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yannadere · 3 years

Text

Songbird Soliloquy

daryl dixon x afab!reader who's a musician

summary: y/n is an underground alt musician who uses their music to lure hordes away from the group.

tags: mild songfic, musician!reader, jealousy, pining, cuddles, fluff, injuries, hurt/comfort

((based off of jazmin beans's worldwide torture))

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you sit patiently, tuning your guitar and giving it an experimental strum. the sound of your loud instrument alarms most people in the camp, and you smile sheepishly, turning down the built in amp. "y/n-." shane starts, but you cut him off. "relax, it's fine. it was barely loud compared to how loud this baby can get." you grin, continuing your tuning. "okay, just please don't alert every walker for miles to our location." he sighs, and you roll your eyes. "dude, relax. it was barely a strum." you giggle, noticing carl's curious gaze.

"hey, little man. wanna learn one day?" you ask with a smile, and he looks up at lori. "maybe when we're somewhere safer." she nods, smiling. "cool!" carl bounces slightly, clearly excited. "alright, the plan is to move out of atlanta..." rick states, and you nod as the group starts listening. "we're heading to fort benning, georgia. should be safer." rick informs, and the group seem to agree.

"alright, we're heading out asap." rick nods, walking away, lori following. daryl huffs, slumping down onto a chair next to you. "you ever gonna ditch that thing?" he asks, and you shake your head. "never. she's my baby." you grin, sticking your tongue out at him. daryl rolls his eyes and carl beams. "can you play something?" he asks, eyes staring at your guitar. "ahh- i don't think that would be smart..." lori butts in but you give carl a few chords to keep him happy. "not too loud." shane scolds, and you roll your eyes. "c'mon, we've gotta move." rick sighs, closing a car door. "alright. let's go."

the rv comes to a wheezing stop, and you open the door to step out, observing the broken down vehicle next to you. daryl's motorbike passes you and you grin at him as he glances at you. everyone gets out, observing the engine with disappointment. glenn chews his nails anxiously, and you nudge him as you approach him. "relax, dale can fix it." you grin, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "i don't know... it's more duct tape than hose... and i'm out of duct tape." dale huffs, shrugging before crossing his arms in thought.

"surely we could scavenge from these cars..?" you suggest, gesturing to the mass of dead cars down the road. "we can get supplies too..!" glenn nods, but lori doesn't seem happy. "this is a graveyard..." she points out, and you sigh. "lori, we need the stuff in this graveyard to survive." you say, walking away to gather some items. daryl follows you, seemingly agreeing to your statement.

you open a car door, peering inside. "ooh! jackpot!" a toothy grin covers your face as you pull out an unopened bottle of whiskey. daryl smirks at the sight, popping the trunk to check for anything useful. you shrug your backpack off to put the whiskey away when a noise catches your attention. a walker gurgles, trying to crawl towards you. you roll your eyes, grumbling about the 'ankle biter' before stomping on it's head with your heavy platform boots.

"they do some good damage?" daryl passes by you, moving on to another car near where t-dog was scavenging gas. "of course they do. i'm the one wearing them." you reply cheekily, adjusting your guitar strap idly. daryl huffs out a laugh, already searching through another car. "don't blow your ego up." he teases, and you chuckle, bumping him when you pass. another zombie catches your gaze in the distance, sluggishly trudging between cars. rick seems to spot it too, aiming but freezing as more seem to pop up. "daryl, look at this shit." you hiss, grabbing his vest roughly to point him in the direction of the approaching horde.

"holy shit..." daryl moves on quickly, going to pull you with him. "hold on, i can lead them away." you say, grabbing your guitar strap. "are you crazy?!" he snaps, going to grab your wrist. "absolutely." you grin, running towards the horde. you couldn't let anyone get hurt, there were kids in this camp. you had already witnessed so much death, feeling useless as you normally held no weapons other than your pocket knife. "this time, i'm gonna be the hero." you nod, ignoring everyone warning you as you vault over the barrier to sneak past.

you had your target, clambering upon the truck and turning up your guitar to max. you give the strings a harsh strum, happy with the tuning. slowly, the undead turn to you, and you grin. "come on, come get some." you whisper under your breath, starting up gently with a few notes. as the crowd slowly turns to you. eventually, as they start approaching you, you turn up your theme, playing your song adeptly. everyone comes out of hiding one by one to watch you, clearly shocked by your confidence.

carl seems to light up as you play your song, having to yell your lyrics so it would be heard over your guitar's loudness. shane and rick quickly gather the group, moving them back so no one would get hurt if a stray zombie wandered off, yet it seemed they all wanted you. the truck rocks slightly as they bang and press on it, yet you keep your balance.

"i'll be chewing on your face and knocking down your door-" you regain balance as the truck wobbles dangerously, glancing around for another safe car. a van was your best bet in case the truck went, but you had to wait for the rest of the horde to catch up. "a pure violation of god's great creation! it's an infestation, it's world domination-!" you belt out, the truck fully swaying by now. you glance up, everyone's staring at you anxiously. you had to come out on top for them.

thinking fast, you jump from the truck, landing on the van and almost slipping. the crowd slowly moves around the truck as it's rocking ceases, and you realise just how dangerous your new pedestal is. you have to keep moving to avoid getting grabbed, jumping across the cars and ignoring how your guitar doesn't hit every note perfectly.

"i never come second place, always been a big disgrace- shit." you dodge a walker quickly, clambering up onto another car. "smell the fear, i know you see- high achiever." you manage to get back on top of a high truck, watching two of the walkers approaching sophia who was at the side of the group. you strum aggressively, yelling your lyrics as far as your diaphragm would allow. "killing so i stay on top but i could never do any wrong! c'mon you freaks! i'm right here!" as sophia scrambles to carol's open arms, the zombies turn to you slowly and you grin.

"sour to the bone marrow, horrid to the core- all you've got is not enough, stupid! i just want more!" you yell, ignoring how the truck starts swaying. "and i'll throw another punch! yes, i'll get the highest score!" you land on the road, almost falling over before hopping over the barrier and leading them away. you had no plan, truly, only knowing that you had to lead the geeks away from the group.

as the music fades into the distance, the crowd of zombies following, the group almost relax. "what the hell are they thinking?!" dale snaps, peeking down from the top of the rv. "whatever they're thinking it worked." daryl huffs, crossing his arms and putting up a hard front to hide his anxiety. "are they gonna be okay?!" carol stresses, smoothing sophia's hair. "that was a LOT of walkers." lori adds on, holding carl close. "they'll be fine." daryl sighs gruffly. "let's wait for them to come back." he shrugs, walking off. "how are they gonna lose that many geeks?" glenn asks, and rick sighs. "let's just hope they do..." shane decides to add onto his friend's sentence. "and that they do it far from here."

night time approaches fast and the group's worry is increasing. carol notes how daryl anxiously scans the tree line for any sign of you. "daryl, come sit down." she sighs, gently touching his back. "nah, ain't that dark yet..." he sighs, perking up as a repeated clicking sounds through the woods. "you guys know y/n?" a woman asks, her horse jumping the barrier with ease. "yeah.. who're you?" daryl tenses.

"they're at my family's farm." the woman neglects his question, "they're hurt pretty bad." she adds, and daryl swears under his breath. "where's your farm?" he asks, approaching the woman. "i'll take you there. it's southeast from here, can't miss it. it's safe. we killed off the horde that was with them." she nods in the direction as daryl straddles the back of her horse before riding off with him.

"damn... they got away." t-dog says in amazement. "but they're injured. c'mon, we'll get ready to head there in the morning." rick nods, and everyone settles for a long night.

daryl dismounts the stranger's horse, running into the house where an old man stood. "they're-" "where are they?!" he snaps, pushing past. "they're resting." the old man replies calmly, leading him to a bed where you lay, a bloody bandage around your arm. "are they bit?" daryl tenses, observing you. you didn't look sick, but daryl couldn't tell in the poor lighting. "no. they got lucky." the man sighs. "i'm hershel greene. the woman who brought you here is my daughter maggie."

"there anyone else?" he asks, and hershel nods. "my other daughter beth and her boyfriend jimmy, my wife as well as otis who is out hunting and his wife patricia. you'll meet them in the morning." the old man nods, leaving daryl be. "you idiot..." he whispers, combing some hair out of your face. "you could've gotten killed." he adds, and you smirk slightly. "at least i helped... are they okay?" you ask, your voice raspy as your eyes peel open.

"everyone's fine, just worried." he shrugs, trying to seem like he doesn't care. "were you worried?" you tease, taking his hand in yours. "nah. but it's rather impressive how you managed to lead them away." he shrugs. "i passed out on these people's front door, i've got no idea how they dealt with those walkers." you cough, resting your hand on your dizzy head. "relax, don't overuse your brain. it ain't used to that much action." daryl smirks, nudging your arm.

"haha, very funny." you roll your eyes, swatting his elbow away. daryl lets out a breath of laughter, looking at you. "once i'm out this bed, i'm gonna try and figure out where the walkers went." you sit up, but daryl grabs you. "naw, you're resting tonight. you need it." he protests, pulling you back into the bed. as daryl goes to get up, you tug him back as well. "same goes to you, cowboy. come rest." you grin, pulling him onto the bed next to you.

daryl lands on his elbow to avoid landing on you. "before you protest, i could use the company right now. got a lot on my mind." you sigh as daryl hesitates before settling down. "wanna talk about it? 'm a good listener." he prompts, but you shake your head. "i'll manage... just need a familiar face right now." you sigh, resting your head on daryl's shoulder. "i get that.. i didn't have much but merle, and he helped me in his own way." daryl nods.

the two of you sit in silence, grieving over both of your losses before the topic changed. "what's wit' your song anyhow?" daryl asks, and you hum in question, looking at your guitar that was neatly leaned against the wall, your blood staining the strap. "dunno. was the first song that came to my head 'suppose." you yawn, voice sleepy. "had to have a loud song for my plan to work." you add, eyes fluttering closed.

daryl shuffles so his chest presses into yours, arm stiffly draping over you. "what if your plan didn't work? i saw that truck wobbling like it was about to tip over." daryl points out, and you shrug. "if it did, i would be dead, or at least bit." you sigh, opening your eyes once more. "you are an idiot." daryl scolds, and you chuckle. "mhm. but it worked. saved your ass anyway." you fall quiet before asking what's nagging your mind.

"is sophia okay?" you mumble, and daryl furrows his brows. "sophia? she's a bit shaken but yeah, she's doin' alright." daryl confirms and you let out a breath. "thank god." you chuckle as daryl shakes his head with a smile. "saw two of them going for her, too far to see if she got grabbed or not." you explain, and daryl hums. "well, she's not bit, carol would be hysterical if she was." daryl notes, and you nod, happy with his answer as you slowly doze off.

you wake up with daryl wrapped up around you tightly. he's normally the first one awake, so you guessed he had a late night. "dixon, c'mon. get up." you shake him gently, ignoring how he groans in protest. "daryl, c'mon! i wanna snoop around!" you whisper yell, jumping as hershel walks in abruptly. "ah, i see you're awake. lemme check your arm." the new presence wakes daryl immediately as he groggily blinks and grips the handle of his knife.

you sit up, letting hershel peel back the bandages with a yucky noise. you wince, letting out a pained noise as he pokes the flesh around your gash. "there's still bark in there from where that stick stabbed you." he notes with a sigh. "bark?" daryl sits up, watching hershel slowly press the bandages back onto the wound. "careful!" your friend snaps as you let out a strangled noise. "don't worry, they'll be fine." hershel replies, nonchalantly.

you pat your arm gently as if to soothe it as daryl broods, leaning over you protectively. "let's clean it up and get some fresh bandages on it." hershel gathers some material and his tools as well as calling to his wife to bring a bowl of water.

soon enough, you're say with an arrow in your mouth as hershel pulls the last piece of bark out of your arm, dropping it onto a tray where it clutters uselessly onto the metal. "right, let's clean it." he mumbles, mainly to himself as he wets a small cotton ball in water with a pair of tongs. with every gentle dab against your gash, you whimper, teeth clutching the metal of the arrow.

your free hand grabs the nearest thing to you which happened to be daryl's hand, squeezing tightly for reassurance as your eyes flutter closed. "do y'think it'll need stitches?" patricia asks, to which you shake your head. "i'm not having stitches." you protest, words muffled by the object you're biting. "unfortunately, you may need them..." hershel sighs, and you shake your head as he puts the tongs down. spitting out the arrow, you glare at hershel. "i'm not having them." you declare, barely being able to raise your arm to look at the wound crossing your bicep.

"i'm afraid you might have to. it's deeper than i thought." hershel nods, looking for his needle and thread that patricia hands to him. "i'm not having them!" you panic, scrambling back from the man and almost falling off the bed. daryl catches you, steadying you and glares at hershel. "y/n..." hershel tries but daryl snaps. "if they don't want 'em they ain't havin' them!" he snarls, and hershel backs down.

"fine. i can't force you." hershel sighs, putting the needle and thread down as you calm your breathing. daryl rubs your back soothingly, helping you unwind faster as maggie barges in. "daddy! the others are here." she informs, before leaving. hershel nods, gesturing for you to come over to him with some bandages. "i'll do it. patched up a fair amount of people in my time." daryl extends his hand to hershel who hands them over. "alright, but if you get it wrong i'll redo them."

with hershel gone and patricia following, you relax slightly as daryl readies your arm before gently wrapping the bandages around your bicep. "why don't you want stitches?" he asks, and you shudder. "i don't want a needle going through my arm!" your spine shivers at the thought. "naw, i get that.." he mumbles, carefully pinning the bandages into place with a safety pin. "done, c'mon. let's go see the others." he nods to the door, helping you up.

glenn smiles brightly at you, wrapping you up in a hug. "ow- careful- careful!" you hiss as he accidentally presses into your wound. "sorry!" he stumbles back, and carl bounds up to you. "y/n! you're alright!" he smiles brightly, and you smile awkwardly. "yeah..! i'm alright." you tense as he hugs you tightly, awkwardly patting his head and looking at lori for help. his mother laughs, beckoning him over. "you were so cool! the way they all looked at you and you didn't even get scared!" the boy beamed, practically vibrating.

"carl, c'mon!" sophia beams, gesturing to a swing nearby. "stay in sight of me or carol!" lori reminds and they nod. "glad to see you're alright." shane nods to your arm, and you grin. "i'm tough. had plenty of bottles to the head or thrown at me. i'll live." you cross your arms, glancing at daryl. "what happened anyway?" dale asked as hershel guided everyone to the house away from the tree line. "stray branch stabbed me. nothing awful." you shrug, peering to the barn curiously.

"daryl, i'm gonna go walk around, stretch my legs. you coming?" you smile, and daryl nods. "sure." you grab his hand to pull him away, but hershel stops you. "don't go too far and don't go in the barn. nothing in there but old rusty tools anyway and the last thing i need is another injury." he warns, and you sigh. "fine fine, no barn concert then." you grin, pulling daryl away from the group.

"you're going in anyway, aren't you?" daryl smirks, following you closely. "of course. are you saying you wouldn't?" you giggle before hearing carol yelp. "sophia?!" the two of you turn to see the mother searching the area around the swing desperately. "shit..! another time then." you run back to the group with daryl hot on your tail.

"carl said they were gonna play hide and seek so he doesn't know... i'm sure she didn't go far." rick sighs, adjusting his hat to keep the sun out of his eyes as he scans the tree line. "hershel, any idea of where she could hide around here?" shane asks, but hershel shakes his head. "nothing around here but open field..." he gestures around, and carol hiccups a sonb as lori tries to comfort her.

you look at daryl before glancing to the barn. "is she behind the barn?" you ask, and hershel falls quiet. "could be... but there's no way in other than the doors and we would of seen her go in." he shrugs. "me and daryl can scan around there, see what we can find." you nod, and daryl heads off in that direction. "don't go in!" hershel reminds you, and you feel your spine tickle with suspicion. "what a weirdo..." you roll your eyes and daryl hums.

you walk around the barn, gently calling out for sophia. "nothing..." you sigh, looking around. "hey, see that?" daryl asks, and you turn to where he points. "an open window..." you grin. "gimme a lift, i'm gonna take a peek." daryl crouches behind you, grabbing your hips and hoisting you up so you can grab the windowsill.

"see anything?" he asks, but you shake your head, squinting harshly to try and see. "nah, it's too dark." you gesture for the flashlight daryl carries, and he hands it to you carefully to ensure he wouldn't drop you.

the light flickers, slowly blinking to life and you gasp, almost falling backwards. "holy shit!" you yelp, and daryl panics, pulling you back down. "what, what's in there?" he asks as you recover from the sight. "we need to go! there's a LOT of walkers in there!" you gasp, running back to the group.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl x reader #daryl dixon fic #twd x reader #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction

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sunshineseguin · 3 years

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take me back to the night we met || mat barzal

pairing: mathew barzal x fem!reader

summary: months after the end of your relationship, mathew still struggles to come to terms with losing you. he sees you everywhere and in everything he does. what sticks with him the most is the night you met.

warnings: break-up angst, alcohol consumption, mentions of anxiety & a near panic attack, swearing, mentions of sex (nothing graphic), possible grammatical errors, flashbacks are in italics!!

word count: 6,371

author’s note: i wrote this fic inspired by the song ‘the night we met’ by lord huron so i definitely recommend listening while reading! i wrote this fic as a standalone and don’t plan on writing a second part. feedback is always appreciated, i read everything even if you put it in the tags.

check out my players list & prompt list if you’d like!

Mathew knew it wasn’t a good idea to go out, especially on a Sunday night with an early practice in the morning. The season was about to start and he knew he had every reason to be just as amped up about it as his teammates. He should be cheering with them and drinking beers carelessly like he wouldn’t regret it in the morning. Yet, he couldn’t. The regret that he was already carrying on his shoulders was enough to last him a lifetime. Instead, he was gulping down whiskey on the rocks like it was water and he was stranded in the Sahara Desert, wallowing in his own self pity as he had been for months.

He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder and glanced up at Anthony who gave it a squeeze. The blonde smiled, but it was one of sympathy, his bright blue eyes swimming with concern for his best friend. Mathew almost scoffs.

“How ya doin’, man?” Anthony asks and glances towards Anders who’s watching them both closely.

The raven haired male simply shrugged half heartedly in response. He knew his captain was worried about him, the whole team was for that matter. He hadn’t been right for a while and nearly closed himself off completely. He didn’t join in on the playful chirps at morning skate or reply to Anthony’s invites of golf with the boys. He didn’t go to the team cookouts. He barely mustered a reply when Trotz was ripping into him for being so unfocused. The guys were starting to realize they only ever saw him on the ice or drowning himself in the hard stuff at the bar. He was a walking shell of the man he had been a year ago.

“What happened, Barzy?” Anthony sighed, moving to stand in front of his friend so that he could meet his eyes. “We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s going on.”

Mathew saw a notification pop up on his phone that his Uber was approaching, giving himself the perfect opportunity to get out of his best friend’s inevitable interrogation. He knew the team was only going to let this go on for so much longer before sitting him down and making him talk about his feelings. He was already dreading all of the things Anders had to say but hadn’t yet. He tossed back the last of the amber liquid in his glass, not even feeling it burn its way down his throat with the amount he’d already consumed that night. He stood from his stool, a bit unsteady on his feet as he pats Anthony on the shoulder leaves him with few words before heading out.

“It doesn’t matter. You can’t help me.”

The bar was definitely over what capacity should allow that night. The bar was swarmed as people shouted their drink orders at the poor bartenders who were scurrying around like mice. Patrons were spilling out onto the dance floor, packed in like sardines to the point that you could hardly move. You pushed yourself through the crowd, muttering worthless apologies to people who weren’t even listening as you desperately searched for your friends. You’d lost them over twenty minutes ago and had lost all hope in finding them.

You were starting to feel claustrophobic amidst the sweaty bodies pressed against you, chest growing tight the longer you spent in the crowd. It felt like the walls were beginning to close in on you as your head grew fuzzy. The Long Island Iced Teas you’d been consuming since you got there three hours ago certainly didn’t help. You forced your way through the crowd and to the exit of the bar, shoving people who wouldn’t move as you tried to get air into your lungs.

You stumbled out of the doors to the bar, ignoring the odd looks people heading inside sent you. Your knees felt weak as you braced yourself against the wall. Hand shaking, you pressed it to your chest to feel that your heart was rapidly pounding away. You closed your eyes and did all you could to focus on your breathing and get yourself to calm down. You hadn’t had a panic attack in some time, sophomore year of college the last you could recall, having learned what triggered them and how to keep the panic from overcoming you.

Mathew was standing farther down, away from the never ending flow of people coming and going from the bar’s entrance. He had his arms crossed over his chest as he stared out at the street with a scowl. He and Anthony were supposed to be leaving together, walking back to their shared apartment building a few blocks away. The blonde male had been busy when Mat stepped out, chatting away with some pretty redhead who’d caught his eye early in the night. He was about ready to make the walk by himself if his friend didn’t show himself in the next five minutes.

He saw you out of the corner of his eye, alone and trembling without so much as a jacket. He looked around to see if anyone you might know was near, but no one was paying you any mind. He was overcome with a sense of worry as he stared at you, not knowing if some sleazebag slipped something in your drink or if you had some kind of medical condition. He found himself moving closer to you and asking, “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just-” you stated breathlessly, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, “I just need a second.”

You stood there for another moment until you had yourself composed, finally standing up straight when it didn’t feel like your knees would give out anymore. You weren’t expecting to open your eyes and find the person attached to the voice that just spoke to you still standing there. His hazel eyes were filled with worry as they flickered over your frame. You were too busy gawking to notice his genuine concern.

“Did something happen in there? Do you need me to call someone?” the handsome stranger asked, his gaze finally settling on yours.

“N-No,” you stuttered sheepishly, clearing your throat and blinking quickly as if that would make the nervousness go away. “It’s lame, actually, I lost my friends and… The crowd was a bit much.”

Mathew’s shoulders visibly relaxed when he knew something traumatic hadn’t happened and a laugh passed through his lips. He offered you a smile and replied, “Yeah, that is kind of lame.”

You scoffed playfully and rolled your eyes, feeling your face heat up slightly. He laughed again and shook his head a bit, saying, “I kid, I kid. This place does get pretty rowdy on the weekends.”

“Not to be completely cheesy but, I take it you come here often?” you asked with a smile, wrapping your arms around your middle as the cool New York air started to seep into your skin. The adrenaline from your near panic attack had kept you from realizing how cold it was out and you’d left your jacket inside at your table. Hopefully one of your friends would grab it despite the drunken escapades they were partaking in.

“Pretty often, yeah,” Mathew grinned at the question. He was sure you hadn’t intended to use it as a pickup line, yet he found himself hoping there was genuine interest laced behind your words.

He shrugged off his black bomber jacket when he noticed you shivering and held it out to you. As you opened your mouth to protest, the look on his face told you that he wasn’t taking no for an answer. So you took the item from his hands and slipped in on with a gracious ‘thank you’ once you were swallowed in its warmth.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Mat,” he replied while shoving his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

It was silent for a moment between you, neither knowing exactly what to say. Mathew didn’t know if you were intending to head back inside and enjoy your night. While he was more than ready to go home ten minutes ago, he was now enamored by you, and wanted to do anything to stay in your presence. Usually, he was quick witted and able to charm a girl with a few simple words. In front of you he was drawing a blank, afraid of saying the wrong thing and scaring you off.

Seeing you shyly toy with the ends of his sleeve, a nervous smile curling on your lips as you looked at his feet had a surge of confidence flowing through him. He offered, “Would you want to grab a coffee? I know a place that makes the best homemade crepes.”

The memory hit Mathew like a freight train as he stepped out of the doors of the bar. He was left staring at the wall, at the very spot he spoke to you for the first time. He couldn’t feel the dull ache in his chest, having numbed himself with whiskey that was far too expensive. He turned to walk down to the street to wait for his Uber, but stopped short as he caught a glimpse of a woman walking by.

His eyebrows furrowed as he stared after her. It was as if time slowed down, everything moving in slow motion but her. Everything was as he remembered from that night. The way her hair was styled, the dress that stopped halfway down her thighs, the heels that echoed in his head with each step she took. What shook him to his core the most was the jacket sported on her shoulders. From the night he first gave it to her, she would always steal it, claiming it looked better with most of her outfits than his own. He never argued, because he agreed, and he would never turn down a chance to see her in his clothes. It was you — unmistakably you.

Mathew’s feet started moving on their own accord behind you. It was like you were running away, until he realized it was him who was moving in slow motion with the people around him. The streets were bustling with people of all likes, experiencing the enticing New York nightlife. He was weaving through the crowd, calling out your name, desperate, broken and begging you to put back together the pieces of his broken heart.

You kept walking and Mathew was trying his hardest to catch up, but was like with each step he took his feet were growing heavier and heavier. He let out a strangled, frustrated cry as he yelled out your name once more. Suddenly, he was knocked to the side, stumbling over his own feet and nearly falling into the street. He turned to look at the man who just rammed into him carelessly.

“Watch where you’re going, you prick!” he shouted after the man who paid him no mind, receiving a few dirty looks from others.

It was then that he realized everyone was moving in real time again. His breath hitched in his throat as he spun to search for you in the crowd. You were gone. Deep down, he knew you had never been there in the first place. His mind was playing another dirty little trick on him, as it did so often the last few months. His guilty subconscious tormented him with images of you, making him watch you slip away time and time again. The hollow feeling deep within him only grew with every hallucination.

He turned his attention to the building he’d found himself in front of, and if the visions of you weren’t already torture enough, the universe had just thrown something else into the mix. Yet, he found himself making his way up to the door, the bell chiming above his head as he entered the quant diner. He takes a glance around, seeing an old couple at a table on one side of the building and a man by himself at the bartop, a laptop open and headphones in as he had a quiet conversation on what Mathew assumed was a Zoom or FaceTime call. He drops his head and walks to the familiar corner booth then slides into the seat and cancels his Uber.

A moment later, the waitress approaches the table. Mathew meets her eyes and embarrassment floods through him as he takes note of her sympathetic smile. He’s seen the smile a thousand times now from anyone who had an inkling of what he’d been going through.

“Coffee?” she asked softly, knowing the answer before he could even muster a nod.

You slide into the booth, sighing in content as the warmth from the building seeps into your bones. Mathew slides in across from you and the two of you share a shy smile as you meet eyes. Never before had he been so nervous to take a girl out. Maybe it was because you weren’t like the others. You hadn’t thrown yourself at him the first chance you got. You didn’t seem to know who he was or his status in the social hierarchy of the people in Long Island. It was refreshing and terrifying all at the same time.

You both look up as the waitress walks over with a bright smile on her face and asks what you’d like to drink. “Coffee,” the two of you say at the same time. Mathew’s face visibly turns a light shade of pink, and in turn you feel a rush of heat traveling up your own neck. The waitress smiles knowingly.

“Cream, please,” you add.

As the waitress turns to Mathew he says, “Black is fine.”

It’s silent for a moment as you both wait for the waitress to return with your drinks. Your eyes are floating around the diner, taking in some of the unique decor and 80’s flare with a modern twist. Mathew watches you closely and decides he quite likes the way your eyes shine under the glow of the baby blue neon lights. He takes it upon himself to start pointing out some of the historical decor in the building. It’s your turn to admire him and how his eyes light up when he talks about something he finds exceptionally appealing. His lips are curled into a smile as he spouts off facts to you about each item he points out.

He pauses his rant about people not appreciating The Beatles enough when he sees you grinning at him. He smiles sheepishly and diverts his gaze to the steam rising out of the coffee mug just placed in front of him, asking, “What?”

“Nothin’,” you replied with a small shrug, smile never leaving your face. You stirred a splash of cream into your own coffee and quizzed, “I take it as you come here often too?”

Mathew felt his ears grow hot but he still managed to muster up a confident smirk and lifted his eyes to meet yours, “I said best homemade crepes didn’t I?”

“That you did.”

“I usually end up here after a night at the bar and I need to sober up. People say coffee doesn’t work but it sure feels like it,” he explained, “Plus, they serve breakfast twenty four hours.”

The way your eyes lit up when Mathew said that had butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He listened as you went on a rant about how breakfast was underrated and you’d kill for pancakes for dinner over a steak most nights. From there, the conversation between the two of you flowed effortlessly. You learned how the other liked their eggs cooked and what your drink of choice was. Your favorite colors and favorite scent of body wash. Being with Mathew made you feel as if you’d been sleeping all of these years and were just waking up. Never had you felt so drawn to someone in the way that you were to him, and him the same. Any other night, if he had met a girl in the fashion that he’d met you, he would have had you in and out of his apartment long ago. He wouldn’t be on his third coffee refill with a plate of perfectly cooked strawberry crepes in front of him.

Mathew learned that you hadn’t been in New York long. You’d moved about two months ago and had a fashion design internship with some fancy company he’d never heard of. You were looking to build your own empire in the business. With the way you exuded yourself now that you were comfortable with him and talked with so much passion about your dreams, he didn’t think you’d have any trouble. The drive you had to build a future for yourself wasn’t something he was used to hearing from the women he surrounded himself with.

The famous athlete, something you learned about him in between bites of food, was used to women throwing themselves at him and his teammates. Some of them were just looking to brag that they slept with an Islander, others had more devious intentions. They were after the money Mathew tried his hardest not to spend recklessly - the gifts he could potentially buy. Some wanted his last name, to be in with the WAGs and flaunt their relationship all over social media; to rub it in the face of others that she got what they so desperately wanted. It was part of the reason that he never exclusively dated, too afraid that there were ulterior motives behind sultry whispers and sly smirks.

The diner that had previously been significantly busy when the two of you got there had now cleared out completely. You and Mathew hadn’t realized how long you’d actually been there until you took note of the empty tables. Your waitress was standing in the corner against the wall, looking like she was mindlessly scrolling through Instagram while she waited for you to leave. You and the Centerman had been so lost in each other that you hadn’t realized hours had passed and it was nearly two in the morning.

“I guess we should get out of here, huh?” you asked, hoping the gorgeous man in front of you picked up on the suggestive tone of your voice.

It didn’t seem like he did though with the way his shoulders slumped and he mumbled, “Yeah, I guess we should.”

As Mathew fished his wallet out, he felt you gaze burning into him. You weren’t ready for the night to end and you were hoping he was thinking the same. He looked up and locked eyes with you, holding the stare as you raised a singular eyebrow and a coy smile curled on your lips. Realization crossed the chiselled features of his face and he gave you a smirk before throwing down a good amount of cash on the table. He slid out of the booth and held his hand out to you, giving you a small bow as if you were royalty.

“M’lady?”

Mathew chokes on the very breath in his lungs, his eyes burning as he stared down at the cold, untouched mug of coffee in front of him. It’s no longer black, now a light chestnut color but the splash of cream he’d subconsciously added to it. He had picked that up from you because ‘only psychopaths drink black coffee, babe’. He switched back of course. This was the first time he let himself slip up and fall back into a habit that used to be so comfortable with you.

He swallows thickly and stuffs a generous amount of cash into the black checkbook, far more than what the coffee was worth. He pushes himself out of the booth and avoids the waitress’ eyes as she comes over to collect the payment. He can’t even muster a smile as he mumbles out a ‘thank you’ and exits the diner. Lori, the woman who always gave you the best service there, is left to sadly stare after him. She knows better than to ask what happened to the sweet girl who always used to accompany him.

Mathew walks a couple blocks down to his apartment building, trying not to remember how you’d clung to his arm. How your giggles echoed down the empty streets and your perfume swirled around him. When he closed his eyes he thought he could almost smell it, wondering if traces of you were lingering on the jacket hanging heavy on his shoulders. He still remembers how it felt to have your hands wrapped around his bicep and your hip bumping his as you walked pressed to his side. He enters his building and the feeling is gone as quickly as it came.

He walks into his dark apartment and thinks that it feels colder and colder every night that he comes home alone. He can’t help but take note of your missing pile of shoes by the door that he always used to chirp you for. He hangs his keys on the hook and his eyes linger on the empty spot beside it. He walks past the couch on the way to the bedroom and tries not to think about how bare it looks without the hoodies you used to steal from him littered about.

He strips into his boxers after brushing his teeth and climbs under the chilly sheets. He’s turned on his side, staring at the vacant spot beside him. He can see you there, messy hair splayed out around you and your face smiling back at him. He reaches out and grabs the pillow that used to be deemed yours, pulling it into his chest tightly. Your scent is long gone from the pillowcase, yet he still buries his nose into it and squeezes his eyes shut as if that will bring you back.

As he begins to drift off to sleep, his mind once again tortures him with visions of you. How you stumbled into his apartment the night you met as a mess of teeth and tongues fighting for dominance. You undressed each other on the way to the bedroom, clothes scattered across the floor. Your skin was hot against his as he laid you on his bed for the first time and worshiped every inch of your skin. He remembers your breathy moans in his ear as he filled you up and rocked into you, slow and deep. Your limbs were tangled as you came down from your highs, your head on his sticky chest as he ran his hand over the tangled hair on your head.

He remembers whispering, “I’ve never met anyone quite like you,” and you replying, “You’re something special, Mathew Barzal.” The two of you fell asleep like that, with Mathew thinking he could spend forever with you wrapped in his arms.

Mathew awoke the next morning with a pounding headache and a weight sitting heavy in his chest. He’s still clutching his pillow as he turns over and looks for you instinctively. When he’s once again faced with the empty space beside him, his heart drops. He flips onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. It’s the same everyday that he wakes up, replaying the day everything changed like a broken record in his head.

Your whirlwind romance with Mathew happened unexpectedly. While the two of you did click instantly, you certainly weren’t expecting it to be so serious so fast. He was a famous hockey player who was on the road most of the year. You thought, at most, you would be someone he called when he was home in New York because you were convenient. Instead, you got the fancy dinner dates and spontaneous trips to Philly when he played the Flyers. You got a bouquet of flowers at your door when he was off on a roadie. You got to meet Anthony and enjoy quiet nights in just drinking beers and mocking shitty reality TV. You had moved into his apartment almost completely after only four months without either of you really realizing — yet neither of you stopped it.

The relationship you had with Mathew was unique. It was something people dreamed of and hoped to find. You were Twin Flames; two halves of one soul that united. You fell for each other so hard and so fast it made you dizzy. Before you knew it, a year had passed. You’d completed your internship and your boyfriend was a rising star. You had built a strong foundation in New York and it was potentially where you could put down your roots and live out the rest of your life, yet you had bigger dreams and plans for yourself. Something you hadn’t been completely honest with Mathew about.

You were scared. Scared of the unknown complications and challenges you could face. The two of you had moved so fast you were having trouble differentiating between fantasy and reality — if this is really what you wanted. What if you settled down in New York and Mathew was traded to a different team across the country? What if he decided he didn’t want you anymore in a few weeks time, leaving you high and dry? What if you didn’t really love him and you were just convincing yourself that you did? These questions had been plaguing you for weeks, especially when he was away, and it was becoming too much. So you did the cowardly thing and you ran from it.

It was nearing the Stanley Cup playoffs and the Islanders were well on their way to securing a spot, so most of Mathew’s focus had been on hockey. It never bothered you because it was his career. It’s what he did for a living and what he loved, so how could you fault him for that? The roadies seemed to fall closer together and last a little longer. Mathew now knows that’s why he didn’t notice your things slowly disappearing from the apartment then, and he still beats himself up for not realizing that you were slipping away.

He’d been on one of those seemingly long roadies and his flight came in early that morning from Tampa Bay. While they came out victorious, the games had been rough and Mathew was sore. He couldn’t wait to decompress and cuddle up with you for the few days he had off until the next home game. As the Uber pulled up outside the building, he felt exhaustion overcoming him and wanted to sleep the rest of the day away.

He walked through the door, lugging his duffel bag and suitcase, a sigh leaving his lips at the fact that he was finally home again. The ease he felt was quickly replaced with panic and confusion when his eyes landed on the suitcases in the foyer. His blood ran cold in his veins as he dropped his bags and called out your name with a panicked tone. The apartment remains silent so he quickly makes his way to the bedroom, pushing the door open to find you sitting on the edge of the bed and staring out the window. His own rapid heartbeat is pounding in his ears as he pulls at his tie and moves towards you.

He drops to his knees on the floor in front of you, his eyes full of concern as he meets your tear filled ones. The pads of his fingers are rough and warm as he takes your hand in his own and whispers, “Why are your bags by the door, baby? What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” your voice breaks as you reply, bottom lip wobbling before a sob wracks your body.

Mathew quickly pulls you into his chest, his hand cradling the back of your head as you cry into his game day suit. Dread fills his body, having never seen you so upset. His heart is in his throat and he feels as if he’s going to be physically ill. He holds you like that, kissing the side of your head and whispering words of affirmation until you can compose yourself. You pull back from him and wipe your wet cheeks but he keeps one hand on the side of your head and the other on your waist.

Then you drop the bomb on him.

You explain that your internship was never a permanent plan to stay in New York. You have a flight in four hours that leaves for Paris. A one way ticket taking you to the fashion capital of the world to start your career. You found a job opportunity so perfect that you’d be stupid to pass up. Mathew wants to be happy for you. He wants to jump for joy and celebrate with you, but you hid this from him. You did exactly what he was afraid of and shared with you within hours of your first meeting. He’s filled with disbelief and anger instead.

“This was your plan the whole time? You hid this from me the last year we’ve been together?” he exasperates, moving to his feet as he starts to pace the room and tug at his hair.

“Everything was so good with us I didn’t want to ruin it. I was going to tell you, Mat, I swear.”

“When?!” he shouts, feeling guilty for a moment when he sees you flinch, but the anger overpowers it. “Because it looks like to me you were just going to leave without so much as a goodbye!”

You shake your head, and squeeze your eyes shut, pressing the heels of your palms to your eyes as the tears start to well again. You argue, “I knew when your flight was coming in. I wouldn’t just leave you like that.”

“But you are. You are leaving me like that. You clearly have your mind made up about this and didn’t bother telling me,” he rebuttals, “You let me believe for a year that you were in this. I’ve given you one hundred percent, despite the hardships. What did you give me, huh? Fifty at best?”

You’re quiet, not wanting to admit that you hadn’t been all in on the relationship like him, even though you acted like it. Really, you’d had one foot out the door the whole time. Mathew’s voice shakes as he stares at you from across the room and says, “I love you. I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

A choked sob wracks through your body at his words and you cover your face with your hands. You knew he was in love with you, even the blind could see how head over heels Mathew Barzal was for you. He starts desperately rambling about how the two of you can make it work. Yes, long distance is hard, but he believes it’s worth it — believes you can love him like he loves you if you’ll take the risk. Why else would you have spent a year with him if some part of you didn’t think so? You put up with his relentless hockey schedule when you had every reason to walk away and live your life like the other twenty somethings you surround yourself with.

You disagree though. Long distance would only complicate things further. The different timezones would be unforgiving to your conflicting work schedules. Mathew often didn’t get long enough breaks to be able to fly out and see you and it be worth it. Plus, an international flight once a month, maybe more? It sounded like a good idea but eventually his wallet would suffer. You certainly couldn’t do it with the salary you were starting at, nor would you risk losing your job by unimportant travel to see a man. It was a negative and closed off way of looking at it on your part, but for both of your sake, it was best that way.

“It’s impossible…”

“It’s not impossible, you just don’t want to try!” Mathew yells, unable to care that his neighbors have more than likely heard every word of your argument.

“Mat, I have had the best year of my life here in New York. I’ve made memories that I could never in a million years forget. You are a part of that. I love you, God, do I fucking love you, but admit it. This was never meant to be long term. Not with the paths our lives are taking. We were never meant to last forever,” you stand from the bed and stare at him across the room, pleading with him to look at it from your perspective. You wanted to leave this in a good place, friends possibly, if he could accept what this was at face value. Two people who loved each other very much, but weren’t meant to be. The cliche ‘right people, wrong time’.

Mathew couldn’t though, he wouldn’t. He was blinded by a rage that he had never felt before. You had wasted his time — a year that he could’ve spent entertaining pretty girls who threw themselves at him for a quick fuck. Partying with his teammates and friends and reveling in his success that was only growing with every game he played. He finds himself wishing he had left you alone that night outside of the bar and just gone home. He lets the fury coursing through his veins take over, and with his fists shaking at his sides, he grits out in a low voice, “Get out.”

His words don’t shock you. You don’t know what other outcome you hoped would come from this. It doesn’t stop the stabbing pain that shoots through the center of your chest though. He won’t even look at you, hard gaze concentrated at your feet with his jaw set tight. You fight the urge to go to him. Wrap your arms around him and take it all back. Promise him you’ll stay even though you’d be sacrificing everything. It wasn’t fair to you, so you force your feet to carry you out of the bedroom and out of his front door for the last time. The sobs come once you’re in the elevator, then again in your friend’s (who was nice enough to give you a ride to the airport) car while they held you.

A few seconds after Mathew hears the front door shut, he’s tugging at his dark hair and letting out an agonizing shout. His breathing is ragged as he paces the room and debates running after you, but what would he say? The argument seemed final. You were set in your plan to take off to France and he couldn’t change your mind — he couldn’t make you stay. So he sat down on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands. He squeezes his eyes shut and allows himself to feel the heartbreak, a guttural sob passing his lips.

Mathew closes his eyes and sucks a deep breath into his lungs as the memory fades. His heart is heavy in his chest as he reaches over and retrieves his phone from the bedside table. There’s a text from Anthony sent in the early hours of the morning, asking if he’d made it home safely. He doesn’t reply, instead opening the Instagram app and pulling up your profile.

His breath catches in his throat as he looks at your most recent picture. You changed your hair, a slightly different cut and a different color, but you’re just as breathtaking as he always thought you were. You’re sitting at a cafe with a cup of some fancy brew in front of you and the caption is in French, something about dreams coming true. Though, he’s not focused on some silly caption when he can’t take his eyes off of you. You look happy, wearing a smile he used to see when Anthony or one of your friends would sneak a picture of the two of you. Regret floods his body, the memory of the day you left still fresh in his mind. He thinks about liking the post just to tell you that he still loves you and he hasn’t forgotten about you. He exits out of the app before he allows himself to succumb to that urge.

He forces himself out of bed and into the shower before he’s late for practice. He mulls over in his head whether he should text you or not. He knows you more than likely won’t reply with how things ended all those months ago — now that you’ve moved on and you’re happy without him. He wishes he could too, yet he carries so much guilt for the things he said and allowing himself to have his heartbroken in the first place. He misses you like hell and the never ending visions of you plaguing his mind only makes it intensify.

Mathew heads to the rink in silence. He doesn’t speak to his teammates in the locker room and goes through the motions of practice in a daze. He’s not there completely and everyone can see it in his eyes. Anders is planning to pull him aside, Trotz insisting they have a talk and threatening to bench number thirteen until he gets his shit together. Mathew can tell. No one has tried to speak to him and Anthony keeps throwing him a side glance every few minutes. He prepares himself in the brief post-practice shower.

“Barzy, mind hanging back for a sec?” his captain asks as the other guys begin to filter out of the room.

He huffs out a sound of agreement while fishing his phone out of his duffel bag. His mom usually texts him a few times a week so he needs to let her know that he’ll give her a call later. He nearly drops the device as his eyes hone in on one message. Anders is talking but his heart is pounding so loudly in his ears he can’t hear him. He clicks on your name and feels every nerve in his body ignite at what the text message says.

I miss you. I’m coming home.

tagging the gc bc I love them @bricksatlandyswindow @butgilinsky @barzysthighs @babytkachuks @dmonchld @anxietyandtacos @sortagaysortahigh

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deansdirtylittlesecretsblog · 4 years

Text

Kick in the Ass

Title: Kick in the Ass

Author: Mimi aka @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog

Summary: Dean and Donna act like a couple on a hunt, at Jody’s suggestion.

Characters: Dean Winchester x Donna Hanscum

Word Count: 1505

Warnings: fluff, mutual pining, fake dating,

Author’s Notes: Written for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan Multi-Fandom Follower Celebration. My prompt was fake dating, one of my favorite tropes. I’m also using it for my Donna Hanscum square for @spndeanbingo.

“Jodes,” Donna hissed. “What are you doing?”

Jody shushed her, waving away the question. Donna narrowed her eyes and glared at her friend. She was up to something, she knew it.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Jody said.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Donna muttered, though she had a feeling the answer was “no” considering the look Jody gave her. Over the top of her friend’s head, she could see Dean, leaning against the counter, a cup of coffee clutched in one hand, a donut from the box on the table in the other, the shadow of a beard visible on his cheeks. He took a huge bite of the donut and grunted in Sam’s direction.

“Alright, Dean and Donna will go in the bar, pretend to be a couple, while Jody and I wait outside. We can cover the exits,” Sam explained. “Hopefully you guys can draw out the witch.”

Dean shrugged and shoved the rest of the donut in his mouth. “Works for me,” he mumbled around the food in his mouth. “You good with that D-Train?”

Donna nodded, but she felt numb. She couldn’t believe Jody had thrown her under the bus, volunteered her to pretend to be Dean’s girlfriend. Of course, Jody had no idea how Donna felt about Dean, that was a closely guarded secret that never came to light, ever. It wasn’t like being around him made her stomach twist in knots, or her heart pound, or sweat to pool between her shoulder blades, or her hands shake. No, not at all. She pushed herself out of her chair and darted out the back door, sliding to a stop on the patio and sucking in giant lungfuls of air.

“You okay?”

His gruff, whiskey-thick voice sent a chill racing down her spine. She steeled herself before turning around, vowing not to let herself get lost in those gorgeous green eyes.

“I’m good,” she nodded. “Just...nervous is all. Witches aren’t my favorite.”

“I hear ya,” Dean chuckled. “Witches are disgusting. But, we’ll be good, I promise. We go in there, lure out the guy casting the spells on couples, and we’ll be fine.”

“How are we going to keep him from casting some kind of spell on us?” Donna asked.

“Sam’s making us hex bags as we speak,” Dean said. “Honestly, D, we’ll be great. Might even have some fun, like a real date.” He bumped her with his shoulder, winked at her, and went back inside.

“Fun, sure,” she sighed.

Donna adjusted the skirt she had chosen to wear and climbed from the car. To her surprise, Dean caught her hand in his and tugged her close. He put his arm around her waist when he opened the door to the bar, leaving it there even after they were inside.

“Let’s find a table,” he whispered in her ear, his warm breath tickling her skin and making goosebumps break out all over her.

She could only nod and follow Dean’s lead. He led them to a table in the back, in the corner, positioning them so his back was to the wall and he could see everything. He ordered drinks and it wasn’t until the waitress set them down that Donna realized he’d gotten her favorite.

“How did you -”

“I pay attention, gorgeous,” he smirked. He leaned close, his lips just inches from hers. “By the way, you look absolutely stunning.”

“You’re a big giant fooler, Dean Winchester,” she breathed.

“I’m not,” he shrugged. He grabbed his beer and downed half of it before setting it back down. “You have a hard time taking compliments, don’t you?”

“A little,” Donna murmured. “I guess I’m not used to being complimented. Doug never -”

“Doug’s an idiot,” Dean grumbled. “The biggest idiot.” He squeezed her hand and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Relax, okay? Try to have fun.”

A blush colored her cheeks and she couldn’t stop fidgeting. She glanced around the bar, wondering which one, if any, of the patrons was the witch they were looking for. Someone had been cursing local couples, somehow amping up their jealous streaks to a point where people had died. The last two victims had been found in a destroyed apartment, with hex bags on them. The last place all the victims had been seen alive was this bar.

Two hours later, they were no closer than they’d been when the evening started. Donna was about to ask Dean if he wanted to call it a night when he abruptly rose to his feet and held out his hand.

“Come dance with me,” he said.

“What?” she mumbled.

Dean leaned over her, palms flat on the table. “We’re going to dance and we are going to play it up. Those cursed couples? All the witnesses said they were madly in love, disgustingly in love. We are going out on that dance floor and we are going to make a big old show of how crazy in love we are. Okay?”

“O-okay,” Donna nodded. She took his hand and followed him to the dance floor, with one brief stop at the jukebox, where Dean chose a song “appropriate for slow dancing”.

They’d just stepped onto the hardwood dance floor, along with several other couples, when the music started. The beat moved through Donna, loud, thrumming, her heart thumping out of time, too fast, too nervous, too much. She gasped as Dean pulled her into his arms, bending over to nuzzle her neck with his nose, his blunt fingers digging into her hips as he tugged her close. Heat blasted through her, settled deep in the pit of her stomach and took up residence, intent to stay.

“Relax,” he purred, his voice soft like velvet.

Donna nodded and took a deep breath and moved, letting the music and Dean guide her. She put her arms around his neck, her fingers loosely intertwined, nails scratching at the short hairs on the back of his neck.

Dean smiled and dragged her right up against his body, flush against him, so close there wasn’t an inch of space between them. He pushed his knee between her legs, his hips wiggling, his green eyes flashing with something Donna couldn’t quite decipher.

She closed her eyes, shutting out everyone and everything but her and Dean. She forgot about the case. She forgot about her nerves. She even tried to forget that she had it bad for Dean Winchester and dancing with him would only make it worse. She shut down her brain and let her heart take control.

Dean’s hands traced her curves as they swayed to the music, his lower lip caught between his teeth, his eyes on her and her alone. He was a damn good actor, that was for sure. He even had her believing they were in love. She couldn’t look at him, fearful he would see her truth reflected in her eyes.

“Hey,” he whispered.

Donna peeked at him through her lashes, unable to handle the full force of his stare. He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger and tipped her head back, then he gently brushed a kiss across her lips.

“Don't hide from me, Donna."

"Dean, what are you doing?"

"What I should have done a long time ago," he whispered. "I'm not gonna fight it anymore."

"Fight what?" She was intentionally playing dumb, terrified that he was doing all of this for show, acting like he truly liked her when really, he didn't. She held her breath as she waited for an answer.

"Fight being with you. I think when this fake date is over, we need to try the real thing."

Donna froze. "Are you saying what I think you're saying? Because if you're joking, I swear I'll kick your ass."

"I'm not," Dean insisted. "I wouldn't. What do you say? Are you willing to give me a shot? I understand if you're not..."

Donna nodded, her blonde hair flying around her head. "Holy smokes, Dean, I've been crushing on you since the day I met you. Of course, I'm willing to give you a shot."

Dean's mouth was on hers, kissing her with an almost desperate need, the two of them clutching at each other as if they were somehow going to be torn apart. Which unfortunately happened about twenty seconds later when Donna felt Dean's cell phone vibrate in his front pocket.

Damn it," he muttered, yanking it out of his pocket and opening it. "It's Sam. He says stop messing around and get to work."

"Oh, shoot," Donna giggled. "I forgot we were working."

"Me, too," Dean smirked. He pressed another kiss to Donna's lips, pulling away reluctantly. "This isn't over, sweetheart. We're picking up right where we left off when this case is over."

Heart in her throat, Donna could only nod. Knowing that was going to make it very hard to concentrate for the rest of the night.

"Remind me to thank Jody later," Dean whispered. "She gave me the kick in the ass I needed."

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itsyourchoicedevotionals · 5 years

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Consequences

“There is a way that seems right to a man and appears straight before him, but at the end of it is the way of death” Prov 16:25 AMP

David should’ve been off at war. Instead he restlessly strolled about the flat roof, looking at the beauty of his kingdom. The reflection of sunlight glinting across water caught his eye. Nothing could’ve prepared him for the feast his eyes were about to behold. There, cupping her hand full of water above her head, stretched the glorious little sheep of Uriah.

Her nude body silhouetted against the water, With his eyes, David committed adultery. It was only a formality to send for Bathsheba. Releasing his pent up manhood caused him to thrust her away. This little lamb couldn’t be his. He must return her home.

As all of life choices can go, this little toss in the bed with another’s lamb brought about grave consequences. ***Life was conceived in the bed of adultery. ***Cover up attempt: Husband was more noble than the adulterers. ***Cover up plan two: Murder had to occur to spare the little lamb’s life.

On a simpler scale: the eight year old girl was rejected by everyone on the playground. She played by herself. The bell rang, but lost in her world, she didn’t hear it. Confronted by the teacher, she had no reason. Frightened beyond thought, she didn’t know what to do. Not taking responsibility, a little lie would make things better. Her cousin, ‘the sheriff was coming to the playground to see her and she didn’t want to miss him.’ (After all, not totally a lie she excused herself. Although, he wasn’t a blood relative― He was her cousin’s uncle.)

A Commandment of God broken. “You shall not bear false witness…” Ex. 20:16NKJV. Consequences come along: A lying spirit followed her and the future generations of her household.

The consequences for David were very severe: 1. The sword, or killing, would never leave David’s generations. (Never’s a LONG time for terror to reign.) 2. Adversity would come up out of his own family. (Family feuds are so heart-wrenching.) 3. Another man would have intercourse with David’s wives in front of all Israel in broad daylight. (Shame.) 4. Bathsheba would lose her first child to death. (Total grief for her.)

Curses don’t come without a cause: Prov. 26:2Amp “like the sparrow in her wandering, like the swallow her flying, so the causeless curse does not alight.” Give a legitimate cause for a curse to stick around through a sin and generations of lives are infected. Have you given the legitimate right for a curse to land in your generations?

Read 2 Samuel 12: After Nathan, the prophet, came confronting David with all of his sins, David repented. His cry of repentance comes in Psm. 51:7-8NIV. “Cleanse me with hyssop and I will be clean, wash me and I will be whiter than snow. Let me hear joy and gladness, let the bones you have crushed rejoice.” Realize— King of Israel had to be crushed to see, consequences come to even royalty. No one is above, nor is anyone beneath the reach of consequences.

Rash thoughtless actions mark so much of society today. No one thinks anything matters. Yet, not even the smallest stupid or wise decision is left unnoticed by consequences. Violence begets violence. Ask those in prisons, they know. Ask the single mother, alone raising her children. Ask the man holding the whiskey bottle— not his wife and children. Ask the children, who feel less than others, because of the drugs or alcohols parents couldn’t give up for them.

Consequences endure, with some come curses. What are you making, good consequences? Curses? It’s your choice. You choose.

PRAYER: Papa God, everyone, at some point, has been duped into thinking, the Piper never had to be paid. Forgive us. Repenting, we pray asking for mercy and deliverance from curses coming along as part of the consequences, in Jesus’ name I pray.

by Debbie Veilleux Copyright revised 2019 You have my permission to reblog this devotional for others. Please keep my name with this devotional as author. Thank you.

#Jesus Christ #Word of God #lord of lords #Holy Spirit #God #it's your choice #devotional #consequences #violence #curses #legitimate #hope #love #faith #good #adversity

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aint-nodenying · 5 years

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five things + one

the one where brian realizes he likes charlie much more than he let on. in five instances, he does something about it, plus an extra cute thing.

word count: 4,671

hello, i’ve been working on this for a long time. i’m not very proud of it but i’m glad it’s on here so it’s out of my head. anyways, i hope that y’all like this, enjoy, like, reblog, do all that sweet stuff. it was very tricky to write this since i only had a rough outline but i tried my best and i think this is one of the longest pieces i’ve ever written.

this is the first piece to the Made For One Another series but this one is told from mainly brian’s third person. i’m gonna, of course, write one from charlie’s pov next but for now this is what i have.

i tried my best to stay true to the introductions i made, especially i like to change a lot of thins last minute. for instance, charlie is no longer from the west midlands, but is instead cockney since i can imagine that accent so much better. anyways, enjoy!!!!

-----

Charlotte Davis was an enigma to the tall curly-haired boy, and she was absolutely enticing. She was quiet, yet loud - confident, yet shy - she was the definition of a juxtaposition. Charlie was a woman who knew what she wanted and was talented at what she did; a master of one, she would’ve been considered. That’s why she got along with Freddie, they were both reserved but sassy. Somehow, she was always confident around the boys, especially around Brian (but he didn’t know why.) Both Freddie and Charlie were annoyingly stubborn, yet soft enough to be considered paternal. She had an aura around her that drove Brian mad.

Charlie was beautiful, she was tall, but not too tall. She had a beautiful shade of brunette curly hair and freckles all over her face that looked like a work of art. But if you asked Brian, he wouldn’t tell you that he dreamt of the dots or that he had written about the plump red lips that invaded his mind - he wouldn’t do that.

She lived with Freddie and helped out at the market with Roger and Freddie on the weekends when she wasn’t working part-time at the diner by their apartment. She went to school part-time for fashion and was quite studious, meaning she kept to herself in her room, preparing for tests. She had been in college for fashion design and typically helped the group of boys with their clothes before their gigs. She had always been there for them since before Queen and he was forever grateful for it. He could recount the number of times where he realized his gratefulness was replaced with admiration and love.

In fact, the first time he had found he liked her, it was at a Smile gig back when Tim was still in the band. They had just met for the first time. She and Freddie were sitting in the bar, leisuring while the band performed their songs. At that point in time, Freddie had just begun to spend time with them regularly and had become a constant figure in their lives. He had come to most of their sets, helped them pack up their instruments, and hang out at their flats. So, at the end of their set, they began to take apart their equipment when Freddie came up to help as well. Behind him was a girl, a girl that none of them have seen before.

“Hello, loves, that was a good set tonight,” said Freddie, collecting the mic stands. As he begins to walk away with those, he looks back at the girl and calls out to her. “Uh, hey love,” she looks at him. “Help us out a bit, grab those amplifiers and follow me.” She nods and begins to reach down when Roger makes a noise of protest.

“Wait, wait, wait. Who is she?” he asked, nodding his head at her. Her eyebrows flew upwards, dropping the amp back down. Roger puffed up his chest, attempting to look intimidating to her, yet failing. She rolled her eyes and picked the amp back up.

“M’name’s Charlie,” she thrust her hand out low for a handshake. Roger looked at her hand suspiciously before slapping his palm into hers and shaking it slowly. His knees began to buckle and he began to moan in pain before she let go with an innocent smile. “Nice t’meet you. Your outfit is quite shabby, innit?”

He scowled at her for a second or two before breaking out in a smile, still massaging his sore hand. “I like you, I do.”

The band all broke out of the stupor and began introducing themselves in the same style, without the hand crushing. She held the amp in her hands and followed Freddie to the van behind the pub. She helped sort all of the equipment into the van and went back into the building to sit in a booth with the boys.

The band had taken a liking to her immediately, they appreciated the fact that she kept it real, (“Listen, Roger, all I’m sayin’ is that your sideburns make you look like a disgustin’ hillbilly and the outfit makes you look homeless.”) and that she could drink them all under the table. Brian and her kept a solid conversation about school and how they hated their teachers (“God, I hope that professor Jones just bites the dust one day.”) They had been closer than ever and all Brian could think about was her beautiful olive eyes, and how soft her hands were compared to his.

Before they had left the pub that night, Charlie and Brian had talked all night about absolute nonsense and they both realized that their relationship could go farther than they anticipated, yet they were okay with it.

---

The second time he realized he liked her was when they were relaxing. It was after Tim had left the band and Freddie had replaced him. The band had been all in Freddie’s apartment exchanging ideas for their next song. The flat was cozy, surrounded by colorful throw pillows and a large bohemian style rug with a golden yellow couch. The room was obviously decorated by Charlie and was well taken care of, judging by the lack of dust on the furniture.

“Okay, well the bridge is going to be a bit odd, is that alright?” Brian asked, glancing at his lyric book, trailing his finger along the words trying to find the specific words. Freddie grinned and sipped his tea from his mug (which was quite comical, mind you. It had a rather large cat on it with the words, “I’m feeling meowtastic!” which was a gift from Charlie.)

“Excellent my dear, let us hear it.” Brian squinted at his lyrics, trying to decipher his own writing.

“Alright, it’s going to be a bit with no instrumentals, rather just the drums,” Roger made a hum of appreciation from the mossy green love seat. “And it’s going to start with a call-and-response, “Do you think you’re better every day?” then a response of “No, I just think I'm two steps nearer to my grave.’” Roger craned his neck up towards the ceiling, relaxed and Freddie was grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“Brian, that’s lovely. That’s definitely going on. Who’s going to sing that?” Brian groaned quietly, thinking carefully while strumming a C chord softly. The door opened loudly and then slammed harshly, shaking the coffee table. Loud cursing followed, accompanied by a loud crash. Roger and Brian immediately stood up, ready to help the familiar voice but Freddie just hushed them and indicated them to sit down. His eyebrows furrowed and took a deep breath.

“Charlotte, my love, are you alright?” There was another crash followed by more cursing. Roger and Brian shared a glance before looking towards the front door. Their eyes widened as a vase flew from the main hallway into the kitchen, breaking on the tiled floor.

“The fuckin’ cuntbag fuckin’ fired me today. I should’ve shoved me fist up his asshole, the fuckin’ cunt. I work there for three fuckin’ years and deal with his fuckin’ gropin’ and disgustin’ innuendos, but he fires me for apparently chattin’ up one of me customers. I hope he- oh my god.” she cursed, storming into the living room before stopping short, staring in horror at the other two wide-eyed guests. She was mortified, she had just cursed up a storm in front of her best friend’s friends, who were very attractive men.

Brian was very surprised to see how angry a woman like Charlie could get. He had no idea why his cock gave a little twitch in his pants but he subtly grabbed a throw pillow from beside him to cover his groin. No one noticed to his relief and focused his attention on the fuming woman.

“Charlie! That was amazing, who knew you had it in you?” Roger exclaimed. Freddie sipped from his mug quickly before standing up with his hands on his hips.

“Young lady, that was not amazing. That’s the fifth vase that you’ve broken this month, who is going to keep paying for these?” Charlie stood there sheepishly, rubbing her forearm. She fiddled with her frizzy hair and giggled nervously.

“Sorry, you’ve had to witness that everyone, I hadn’t meant to do that.” Roger laughed boisterously, waving his hand for her to sit down.

“Babe, that was absolutely amazing, I think that we all thought that was quite amazing. I think we should all actually pay your boss a visit, huh?” She sat down on top of Brian’s lap (successfully scaring him), slouching over and pouring herself a shot.

Over the sound of Roger’s obnoxious cackles and Freddie’s comfort, Brian had a bit of a dilemma. He realized for the first time how long her legs looked in her short waitressing uniform and how silky her hair looked in her ponytail. He also noticed how beautiful her smile was and how when she laughed, she covered her mouth with one hand and her stomach with the other. He also noticed how she sat on top of his boner, and how she could most definitely feel it.

Of course, she could feel it but she liked the effect that she gave him, so she just smirked into her glass and shifted a bit. Brian groaned lowly and wrapped his arms around her hips. He breathed through his nose and tried to distract himself from the beautiful girl on his lap.

“-ian, Brian!” yelled Freddie, snapping under his nose. Brian looked away from the rip in the seam of the couch and glanced at them, humming in a questioning tone.

Roger held up a shot of whiskey. “Let’s go, big boy,” he handed Brian the shot glass. “Down the hatch, we’re going to comfort Miss Charlie by drinking in our feelings.”

This is a problem to deal with another time, he thought, downing the shot in a gulp.

---

The third time Brian noticed his attraction for Charlotte was during one of their gigs. The band was performing with John Deacon for the first time and Charlie was helping out the band by setting up their equipment. At this point in time, she had gotten a new job at the very bar they were performing in, but she was on her day off so she could fully support them.

She wore a large brown cardigan over a cropped striped shirt and large bell bottom jeans. Brian noticed how the tops of her breasts popped from the seam of the neckline and how the bell bottoms accentuated her curves. Once again, he got a little bit happy down below the belt and tried to distract himself from the girl bent over, adjusting Roger’s hi-hat.

After the incident in the apartment, the quartet had gotten closer and somehow the tension between the girl and the curly-haired man had increased. As she finished setting up the cymbal for the blonde diva behind the drumset, she stood up straight and glanced over at the guitarist. Charlie stepped towards him, secreting confidence and stepped close enough to smell his cologne. He could feel the warmth of her chest against his arm and flushed red.

“Hello there mister May,” she purred. “Need any help, sir?” He hesitated, gulping before shaking his head quickly.

“No, I’m alright, thank you Charlie.” her smirk wiped off her face and she slouched in defeat before nodding and walking away. He watched her back as she walked towards the bar and glanced over to see John smirking at him.

“What, John?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. The bassist shook his head before continuing to tune his instrument.

“You’re so obvious, that’s all.” Brian’s cheeks turned red and glared at the other. “You’re both so stupidly oblivious though.” Brian’s head shot up to stare at the brunet.

“What do you mean, oblivious?” At that moment, the lights dimmed and Roger began to hit a simple beat to introduce the lead singer onto the stage. He began to play to the beat of Keep Yourself Alive and Brian joined in, enticing cheers from the crowd. As he sang the bridge, he connected eyes with Charlotte from the bar and she stared at him, chewing on a straw seductively. He pulled away from the mic and gulped before looking back down at his guitar. He realized two more things during the gig: one, he had feelings for Charlie. Two, she had feelings for him as well.

After the set was over, Brian placed his Red Special down carefully and wiped the sweat off his brow. His eyes scanned the bar area to look for a certain curly-haired girl and ended up giving up, jumping off the edge of the stage. He was bombarded with girls immediately who touched his biceps and stroked the ends of his curls. He dismissed them with a stiff smile and a polite, “I’m a bit busy right now girls, sorry.”

He strode to the bar and ordered four beers for the band and leaned against the island, staring off into space. After a few minutes, he felt a pair of hands poke harshly into either of his sides, making him jump from the ticklish feeling. He turned around in shock and saw a giggling Charlie in front of him.

“Oh Bri, you’re so easy to scare, aren’t you?” he shook his head and chuckled. Once he realized his feelings, he saw her in a different, more bright light than before. She was beautiful laughing like that and he turned back around, blushing slightly. He folded his hands together and rested his forearms back onto the table. “You did great, Brian. Looked great up there. I wonder who dressed you tonight.”

Brian looked down in shock and saw her biting her lip. She wasn’t looking at his eyes however, she was looking right at his chest, where the first couple of buttons were unbuttoned from his navy blue button-up. He was quite sweaty and he saw her eyes dilate at the sight of a sweatdrop dripping down his pectoral.

“Thanks, love,” she blushed at the pet name. “My stylist has quite the eye. You looked great down there, dancing your heart out. You looked truly in your element out there.” she shrugged and wrapped her cardigan around herself tighter.

Brian glanced back towards the bar and saw the bartender slide him the beers with a wink. He tipped one of the beers towards the man in appreciation and gathered the three remaining drinks in one hand. He turned around to face Charlie and took a sip out of his beer. Her eyes followed his lips which were wrapped around the bottle’s neck and at the droplet of alcohol on his plump bottom lip.

Brian saw a mischevious glint in her eyes and was about to ask her what she was thinking of, she interrupted him and swiped her thumb across his plush lip to pick up the alcohol. She stuck the same thumb into her mouth and sucked at it, her eyes fluttering shut.

Brian’s mouth parted slightly in shock and watched as her eyes opened slowly with a small smirk around her finger. The boner that he had before that disappeared returned at full force and he didn’t know what to do. She turned her torso away from him and kept her eyes on him before winking and walking towards the stage to help pack the equipment.

“Fuck. Me.”

---

The fourth time Brian realized his feelings for Charlotte were deeper than he realized, it was in the studio while the rest of the band were out eating. Here he learned that she was a vegetarian and they both sat eating a vegetarian chicken alfredo (substituted with vegan meat) that she brought from home. They were sat on the small futon in the sound booth with her legs on his lap and chatting quietly.

“No, he really did, you’ve got to believe me,” Brian rolled his eyes at her arguing. “Don’t roll your eyes at me May, I know what I saw. Saw it with me own eyes.” He scoffed, eating a forkful of noodles.

He wiped his mouth before speaking up. “You can’t tell me that you saw him waxing his own nipples, the man has his shirt off all the time, his nipples are still quite hairy.” she shook her head firmly.

“No, I know what I saw, it might’ve been dark but I couldn’t dream that up.” he laughed loudly, twirling some pasta around his fork before letting it rest in the Tupperware and reaching for a napkin on the table.

“Charles, love,” she smiled into her alfredo, face hot. “From what you’re telling me, it was about two o’clock in the morning,” she nodded. “It was dark,” she nodded again. “And you saw John Deacon, a man who doesn’t even live in your apartment, waxing his nipples?” She nodded the last time, firmly. She set her empty container onto the coffee table.

“Obviously, I know he doesn’t live with us, bu-”

“Great, so you know what you’re trying to tell me is bizarre.” She glared at him for interrupting her and jabbed his bicep with her index finger.

“No, Mister Man, I was going to say that he slept at our house the night before, and I never said he waxed it well. All I’m saying is that for a man with low pain tolerance, he waxed his chest like a pro, no screamin’ whatsoever.”

She changed her position so that she was sat facing him, her legs folded and her knees touching his thigh. He smiled and put his container on the table next to hers. He sat back, looking at her, eyes flickering from her lips to her eyes.

“You’ve got a little bit of sauce on your lip,” he said. Charlie’s eyes widened and she attempted to lick it away. Brian giggled and shook his head softly. He grabbed her chin in one hand and brushed his thumb against her top lip. “There we go, got it.”

They stayed in that position for a few seconds, his fingers grasping her chin and her small hands wrapped around his wrist. She let out a shaky breath and he saw her eye darting down to his lips. He was doing the same, entranced by her red lips. The both got closer to each other, breaths mingling together.

“Charlie, you’re so beautiful,” she laughed airly, moving her right hand to wrap around his neck. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world and you’re going to do great things in this world.” she smiled and nudged her nose against his.

“As are you, Mister May, you’re so talented and anyone would be lucky to have you around them.” they got closer, top lips brushing against each other, sharing breaths.

As they were about to interlock lips, they both heard loud voices echoing down the hallway of the studios. THey sprung apart and he stood up, pretending to fiddle with the soundboard. The band and the sound technician came into the room, laughing and pushing each other, glancing at the two, thinking nothing of what was about to happen.

“How were your lunches children?” asked Freddie, hanging up his jacket on the coat rack in the corner of the room. They both looked each other speechlessly before both at the same time responding nervously.

“Yeah, it was alright, delicious even-”

“Oh so good, you don’t even know-”

The two quick, odd responses confused the three other men, making them share a glance before shrugging and grab their instruments.

“No time to think,” exclaimed Roger, twirling a drumstick. “Time to record some music.” all of them cheered before making their way into the recording booth. Brian and Charlie shared a glance before walking into the room and both shared a secret smile.

This was when they both realized that they were into each other way more than they thought and that they were falling hard.

---

The fifth time was different. The fifth time, the two parties did something about their feelings. Or rather, Charlie did something about it. The fifth time, they were at the Ridge farm and she had come along to measure their sizes to make up their costumes and to help out with the instruments. She was there, looking angelic as usual in her oversized grey hoodie (which was actually Brian’s) and a pair of fishnet stockings under her black leather combat boots. She finished plugging in all of the amps and adjusting the drumkit to Roger’s liking before waltzing over to Brian slowly. She smirked and walked close to him, almost touching chest to chest.

Slowly, her hand reached around his waist to reach for a cord behind him. Her nose brushed up against his before she moved her lips to his ear, brushing his cheek along the way. Brian’s breath hitched as she got closer to him, grasping the neck of his guitar a tad bit tighter.

“Sorry, dove, you were in the way of this,” she smirked, moving away from him, not before subtly rubbing her ass against Brian’s crotch. He moaned quietly and watched as she walked away, her hips swayed sensually (no doubt on purpose.) His eyes narrowed as he examined her ass, having half a mind to think of the other members.

John was taking a shower, and he took quite a while to shower, Roger was making breakfast (full English so that took a while as well), and Freddie was still asleep in his room. He stalked towards her, footsteps loud. She turned around shocked, not expecting him to be so close to her. She also didn’t expect his hand to wrap around the back of her neck and the other around her waist. She definitely didn’t expect the pair of lips crashing onto hers either.

She grunted in surprise as his lips moved against hers, hands clenching her hoodie tightly. She responded after a moment, her hands snaking around his waist to grasp at his bony shoulders and his bum. They both tried to pull each other impossibly closer as Brian began to walk backward against the table.

He grabbed onto her thighs and pulled on one of them, indicating her to jump. She did and he placed her on top of the table that had nothing but a few red solo cups and cords. He allowed his tongue to brush against her lip, stimulating Charlie enough to open her mouth in a moan. Their tongues entwined with a loud noise, both of them pushing and pulling against each other, fighting for dominance.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ hot,” she grunted, tugging at his hair. His head bent backward exposing his long neck, which she began to suck at. He moaned loudly, groping her ass and her waist as she did the same to him. She sucked hickies down his chest before being obscured by his shirt and got pulled up back to connect in an open-mouthed kiss.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” grunted Brian. He began to unbutton her shirt feverishly, kissing a trail down her chest. She pulled on his hair to coax him back up to her face, and to moan into his mouth. She ground her hips into Brian’s cock, causing him to moan into her mouth. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in closer to continue the stimulation.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Charlie pulled on his hair, pulling his face out of her neck where he was sucking kisses into the junction of her collarbone and sternum. He didn’t get the message and came back up to pull her face into a messy kiss, full of tongue and teeth. He ground his hips upward to her pantless crotch. “No, wait, Brian, wait.”

He stopped, eyes closed and breathing heavily, forehead pressed to hers. She breathed just as heavily, stroking the top of his messy curls. They must of have been a sight to witness, with their birdnest hair and with Charlie’s shirt half unbuttoned, both of them practically on top of each other.

“I really, really like you, Charlie,” she opened her eyes slowly to see him already looking at her. “I think that I even love you, for quite a while now.” she exhaled through her nose before smiling. She pulled him in for a soft kiss before petting down his hair.

“Oh, Brian. I love you too,” she rubbed the tip of her nose to his. “You’re so talented, you have such a beautiful soul,” he blushed, chuckling lightly. He moved so that they wear hugging each other tightly, their faces in each other’s necks.

“So is it a bit unorthodox to ask you to be my girlfriend right now?” that statement made her laugh loudly before shaking her head. She pushed his shoulders away to look at him. She grabbed his face with both hands and kissed his lips.

“No my love, I suppose I’ll accept,” he hugged her tighter, kissing her deeply. He sucked at her bottom lip before she surprised him and jumped down from the table. She turned around and pushed him until the table pressed into his lower back. She grabbed onto his belt buckle and wrapped her leg around one of his. “That means that you’re mine now too, alright?”

He smiled and moved her hair away from her neck, wrapping a large hand around the back of her neck. They kissed a few times before pulling away. “There’s no place I’d rather be, my darling.”

---

After telling the lads about what had happened in the studio that day (without the gory details), they all celebrated for the fact that they’ve finally gotten their heads out of their asses. While the band was starting to get big, they had a small concert in America. They had just gotten big and Queen was starting to get noticed. Charlie had come along for the ride, successfully finished her bachelor’s degree in fashion and had a stable job as the band’s outfit coordinator. She was the glue that held the band together, mediating fights, designated driver from parties, and inspiration to most of Brian’s songs. At their most recent concert, one in Nashville if they remembered correctly, Charlie made Brian try on his newest outfit.

“Charlie, the shirt is much too long for me to be able to play properly,” the tall curly-haired man pouted. She scoffed and walked up to him, briefly stroking the top of his head to rest her palm on his cheek.

“Baby, you’re such a whiny child,” she looked downwards at his sleeve and began to fold it inwards, shortening the length. “honestly, sometimes I think you’re worse than Rog.”

They both quickly looked up to see if said man was in the room but saw no sign of him. They stood in the middle of the room, stuck in a moment of intimacy. Brian cupped the nape of her neck and angled her face up towards his. He leaned down, brushing the tip of his nose against hers, top lips grazing against each other.

“You’re beautiful, Mr. May,” she closed her eyes and let out a shuttering breath against his lips. “you guys are going to do great things.” Brian’s other arm wrapped around her waist, pushing her chest up against his and allowing his lips to fully graze against hers; touching, but not quite. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her right hand playing with a stray curl.

Looking down at her closed eyes, Brian breathed out, “I wouldn’t be who I am without you. I never will be either, because you’re going to be with me every step of the way.”

With that, his lips landed on hers gently. Her hands reacted immediately, burying them in his thick mane of hair. His right hand firmly clutching her neck, keeping her in place and his left arm completely encircled her torso.

At that moment, life was perfect.

victims:

@polaroids @magicwithaknife @rogersdrumkit @blitchen @mxrcury-love @lady1505 @shae-is-not-ok @alexfayer

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unnaturalequilibrium · 6 years

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five fave Vanity scenes (for now)

#3C) Cellar “the little boy who pulled the little girl’s pigtails”

There really wasn't any other way this could have ended, was there? You amp tension to max, coat liberally in alcohol and sprinkle with “wanting to live life to the full” (ie canonically randy characters) and the conclusion to this scene is advertised harder than a blasted MCU movie. It's going to end in kissage. The only thing that could have prevented that was heterosexuality, which luckily neither of these characters are afflicted with. Still the way it was executed is A+ and party time excellent.

Where were we? Ah yes, in the previous scene Charity makes this whole point about wanting Vanessa to drink until she passes out, indirectly telling her she can't stand the idea of spending time with her. Cut to this scene and my my how the turn tables. We see a mellow Vanessa slumped down in a comfy chair in the corner, quiet and relaxed, and Charity being the one who can't leave her alone. A couple of sips of whiskey and suddenly Charity seems instinctively drawn to and can't help herself from engaging Vanessa in conversation, while sloppily offering her unsolicited love life advice. She literally goes from ugh at the mere idea of spending time with Vanessa to actively trying to get close to her. Clearly the alcohol has mellowed her mood too, because she is surprisingly soft as her intoxicated ass start to shower Vanessa in indirect compliments about how she's worth more than Daz. Vanessa (observant as always) immediately recognise the niceness behind the words and calls Charity out on it, wondering why she's being so nice to her when she has every right to be angry at her. At which Charity utters the famous last words of, “you're too easy, I like a challenge”. Major hindsight lols, if she only knew. Vanessa's response however is to do what Vanessa does best, she distills this down to the truth behind it and serves it right back at Charity in a statement thinly disguised as a question. She asks if that is Charity's idea of fun, then press on and ask if it's a matter of being unable to stop herself. And as we the audience see Charity's face as she’s hammered with these questions you suddenly get blasted in the chest with deep sympathy for the devil, because the look she is sporting is heavy. Even without any background to Charity you know this is a seriously broken woman with more nuances and vulnerabilities than she'd like to let on. As I've watched more of this story that quality of hers; the way she can display raw emotion on her face, in combination with perfect comic timing, has made me a big fan of Emma Atkins. She does some good work.

Back in the cellar, I'm not sure what it is about Vanessa but Charity seems as to treat her like she's Wonder Woman's whip, if she stands close enough Charity will tell the truth no matter if she intends to or not. It's such a fun game to watch. Charity trying to play it cool and snarky. Vanessa having none of it, disregards the blustering and instead simply rips Charity's words apart until all that is left is the honest core, which she bounces back to Charity who acknowledges it for what it is, the truth. And something else that's even more noticeable in this scene is how it manifests physically. You know how Charity have a bit of a habit to do the coat pull to get Vanessa closer, Vanessa on the other hand doesn't have to get physical, because she can literally perform the same act through her words. It's as if each time Vanessa forces Charity to face the truth Charity is also physically pulled closer to her. Go back and watch the scene for yourself, it almost becomes comical. Vanessa says something about Charity that is so true it probably hurts, Charity responds by moving closer and then admits she's right. The process repeats itself three times. Truth – pull – truth. Watch it repeat itself until Charity's lips are on Vanessa's.

That's when we get the kiss. Their first kiss. And it was witnessed and deemed good. By all of the land. To the surprise of a lot of the gays in the land. Honestly though how many awkward kisses haven't you sat through because well the rest of the storyline is pretty decent or at least it's good enough to tide you over when there's nothing else? I have literally seen so many cringe kisses between two women in various forms of visual media that I now have the lived experience of expecting cringe. As if external and internal homophobia wasn't enough to deal with we have to carry this burden too. I almost feel bad because Vanity has so far never disappointed, not once have they made it come across as if there is any dissonance in their scenes of physical affection. Yet I sadly still expect the day of the cringe. You know that awkward scene which requires a pillow to hide behind. I have been so conditioned by awful sweeps kisses that were actively trying to sell themselves as hot while being not, that I simply don't trust no more. Sad state.

Enough about the bullcrap though, because this was the absolute opposite. This was good. It was great. It comes across as a kiss. That's it. Nothing less, just a simple kiss, and not an edgy cool “wow factor”. You don't get how rare that is unless you're gay yourself. This though, this kiss - it's a gentle thing that flows naturally. Not complicated, just rare and because of that kinda precious.

It is a bit surprising however, not that it happens, because you can taste it in the tone way before it becomes real. No the thing that is surprising about it is the gentleness, because the act itself largely comes across as a defence mechanism of Charity's. Vanessa has rattled her bones significantly, so she responds in a way she feels would give her back some control, she goes all out seduction. Don't get me wrong, there's definitely attraction there and it obviously is mutual, but I think Charity wanted to shake and shut Vanessa up. But like I said, the kiss itself is gentle and even though Charity's body language is domineering, invading Vanessa's space, the metaphorical “pulling her pigtails” with the mask and the finger on her chin, there's also the beat, the pause as they share a breath before their lips actually do touch. There's room for hesitancy, there's room for changing their minds, there’s room for Vanessa to pull away, but in reality that pause is neither hesitance nor reluctance on either character, it rather plays out like antici-

-pation.

And when it finally does happen that kiss flows like it had lingering in their minds for a lot longer than a quarter of a bottle of whiskey. Straight up, it's delicious. And an epic but understated finale to this cellar symphony. It’s so well done.

These three scenes build perfectly on each other and at the end of it your curiosity is utterly peaked. You now know they’ve got both chemistry and the writers on their side, and on top of all of that they can make physical affection look casual and comfortable. And this is where you should get scared. What they have here is an absolute killer combo and you are about to say goodbye to your chill and hello to your new favourite obsession, a soap from the 70s about sassy British famers.

#vanity #vanessa x charity #vanessa woodfield #charity dingle #emmerdale #charity x vanessa #five fave Vanity

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your-dietician · 3 years

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Today's events for July 3 | Entertainment

New Post has been published on https://tattlepress.com/entertainment/todays-events-for-july-3-entertainment/

Today's events for July 3 | Entertainment

TODAY

A Patriot Paw Parade will be held at 10 a.m. today at Downtown Dog, 150 Laurens St. S.W. Those wishing to attend should arrive at 9:45 a.m. There will be a best-dressed costume prize and an Ice Cream Paw-Ty after the walk. For more information, visit aikendowntowndog.com.

Aiken Music Fest will be held from 6-10 p.m. today at Highfields Event Center, 118 Gaston Road. The Red Clay Strays with Billy S. will perform. The gate opens at 6 p.m., and music starts at 7 p.m. Tickets are $15. The Aiken County Crafters will be in the vendors village. Food trucks also will be on-hand. For more information, visit aikenmusicfest.com.

The Back to Basics Alcoholics Anonymous group will meet in-person at 7 p.m. Tuesdays, Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays at St. Paul Lutheran Church, 961 Trail Ridge Road. Masks required for those who have not been fully vaccinated.

A barbecue fundraiser will be held from 4-6 p.m. today at the Midland Gospel Singing Center, 705 Martin Smith Road, Gilbert. Plates are $6 and include a barbecue sandwich, chips, drink and dessert. Proceeds will benefit the center’s operating budget. A gospel singing will be held at 6 p.m. Oasis and Master’s 3 will perform. Admission is free. Social distancing will be observed. A love offering will be accepted. For more information, visit midgsc.com.

SUNDAY

Quakers (Religious Society of Friends) will hold virtual services Sunday. Services are open to all. Worship in silence begins at 10 a.m., followed by online fellowship for those who wish to linger. For more information and the Zoom link, call Brenda at 803-648-6020.

An Independence Day celebration will be held at 5 p.m. Sunday at the Augusta Common, 836 Reynolds St., Augusta. The event will feature live bands, food vendors, games and more. Fireworks will begin around 9:30 p.m. The event is free and open to the public. For more information, call the Augusta Parks and Recreation Department at 706-796-5025.

MONDAY

Aiken Women in Black and Moms Demand Action will hold a Vigil for Peace and Nonviolence from 4 to 5:30 p.m. Monday. The group gathers on Hitchcock Drive at the entrance to Aiken Estates, across from the Fresh Market along Whiskey Road. Participants are invited to stay for the whole time or as long as they can. If you can’t stand, chairs are welcome. The witness against war and all forms of violence meet the first and third Monday of the month and are held rain or shine and on holidays. All, including children and men, are welcome. Participants can bring their own signs as long as they are nonpartisan. For more information, call Lynn at 501-499-4485 or Brenda at 803-648-6020.

TUESDAY

The Awesome Aiken Al-Anon group meets from 6:30-7:30 p.m. Tuesdays and Thursdays at First Christian Church, 900 Kerr Drive.

Nar-Anon Aiken For Comfort Family Group will meet from 6:30-7:30 p.m. Tuesdays in person in the conference room near the main sanctuary at St. John’s United Methodist Church, 104 Newberry St. S.W. and via Zoom. For more information, email [email protected].

The City of Aiken Parks, Recreation and Tourism will hold registration for 2021 Fall Youth Sports Tuesday through July 22 at Citizens Park, 651 Old Airport Road. Sports include flag football (ages 5-12), soccer (ages 4-18), volleyball (ages 9-14) and cheerleading (ages 5-12). Fees vary by sport. Registration is open Mondays through Thursdays from 8 a.m. to 8:30 p.m. and Fridays from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. Birth certificates and proof of residency are required to register. For more information, call 803-642-7761 or visit cityofaikensc.gov.

WEDNESDAY

The Summer Food Service Program meals will be provided from 9:30 a.m. to 12:30 p.m. Wednesday and July 21 and Aug. 4 at the Outreach Community Church, 188 School St., Warrenville. Meals will be provided through contactless curbside pickup.

THURSDAY

Music in the Park will be held at 7 p.m. Thursday at Maude Edenfield Park, 495 Brookside Ave., North Augusta. The Savannah River Winds Concert Band will perform. Those attending should bring a chair or blanket. In the case of inclement weather, concerts will be held inside the North Augusta Community Center. The concert series is sponsored by the North Augusta Cultural Arts Council, the City of North Augusta and the S.C. Arts Commission.

J & the Bootleggers will perform live during Amp the Alley beginning at 6:30 p.m. Thursday. For more information, visit visitaikensc.com.

JULY 10

The Old Edgefield District Genealogical Society will hold a Southern Author Expo from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturday, July 10, at the American Legion Hut, 314 Penn St., Edgefield. Authors Tom Poland, Patricia G. McNeely, Alexia Jones, Helsley, Tom Robertson, Marion F. Sturkey, June Gardner, Ralph Scurry, Dr. Jodie Peeler, Dr. Walter B. Curry Jr. and Karen Stokes will be on-hand. The Edgefield Preservation Association will hold a lunch fundraiser from 11:30 a.m. to 1 p.m. Lunch tickets $15 in advance and $20 at the door, and can be purchased at the Tompkins Library, 104 Courthouse Square. For more information, call 803-637-4010 or email [email protected].

A Christmas in July Market will be held from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. Saturday, July 10, at 506 Main St., Edgefield.

JULY 12

Revival services will be held at 7 p.m. nightly July 12-15 at Mount Canaan Baptist Church, 2451 Edgefield Road, Trenton. Guest preachers will be the Rev. Barbara Brightharp Wills on Monday; the Rev. Reginald Grimes on Tuesday; the Rev. Billy Smith on Wednesday; and the Rev. Charles E. Goodman Jr. on Thursday. The Rev. George L. Brightharp is the pastor. For more information, call 803-480-8086.

JULY 20

DayBreak Adult Care Services will hold its Lewy Body Dementia Support Group at 11 a.m. Tuesday at the Lessie B. Price Aiken Senior and Youth Center, 841 Edgefield Ave. N.W. For more information, visit daybreakaiken.com or cal 803-226-0288.

Wagener-Salley High School, at 272 Main Street South, in Wagener, will be the host site July 20-22 for a volleyball camp for students — girls and boys alike — who are preparing to start second through sixth grade. Sessions are to run from 9 a.m. to noon. The focus is to be on fundamentals. The cost, which includes a camp T-shirt, is $60 for anyone registering by June 30 and $80 thereafter. Information is available from Shane Hutto, the high school’s head volleyball coach, at [email protected].

JULY 21

The Summer Food Service Program meals will be provided from 9:30 a.m. to 12:30 p.m. July 7, July 21 and Aug. 4 at the Outreach Community Church, 188 School St., Warrenville. Meals will be provided through contactless curbside pickup.

JULY 22

Music in the Park will be held at 7 p.m. Thursday, July 22, at Maude Edenfield Park, 495 Brookside Ave., North Augusta. Double D will perform. Those attending should bring a chair or blanket. In the case of inclement weather, concerts will be held inside the North Augusta Community Center. The concert series is sponsored by the North Augusta Cultural Arts Council, the City of North Augusta and the S.C. Arts Commission.

The Brandon Bower Band will perform live during Amp the Alley beginning at 6:30 p.m. Thursday, July 22. For more information, visit visitaikensc.com.

The City of Aiken Parks, Recreation and Tourism will hold registration for 2021 Fall Youth Sports July 6-22 at Citizens Park, 651 Old Airport Road. Sports include flag football (ages 5-12), soccer (ages 4-18), volleyball (ages 9-14) and cheerleading (ages 5-12). Fees vary by sport. Registration is open Mondays through Thursdays from 8 a.m. to 8:30 p.m. and Fridays from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. Birth certificates and proof of residency are required to register. For more information, call 803-642-7761 or visit cityofaikensc.gov.

JULY 23

The Augusta Poster Show will be held Friday, July 23, from 6-9 p.m. and Saturday, July 24, from 11 a.m. to 7 p.m. at the Wow! Club at SRP Park, 187 Railroad Ave., North Augusta. The event will feature over 30 different posters from 30 different artists. A VIP Preview will be held Friday. Admission is $10. Saturday’s show is free. For more information, visit augustapostershow.com.

JULY 24

The Southern Roots Team will hold BarkStock from noon to 4 p.m. Saturday, July 24, at the Beverly D. Clyburn Generations Park, 700 Mack Henry Holland Drive. The event will feature food, vendors, music, fun and a pet supply drive. Admission is one item per person to donate to local animal shelters. Accepted items include pet toys, pet food, treats, cleaning supplies, towels/blankets, collars/leashes, or food and water bowls.

JULY 27

An online book club for adults will meet from 2:30-3:45 p.m. Tuesday, July 27. July’s book is “Summer of ’69” by Elin Hilderbrand. To sign up, call 803-642-2020 x. 1121 to get the meeting link. For more information, visit abbe-lib.org.

JULY 29

Town Mountain will perform in concert Thursday, July 29, at Southbound Smokehouse, 1855 Central Ave., Augusta. Doors open at 6 p.m., the show starts at 7 p.m. Admission is free. For more information, visit fwbpro.com.

JULY 31

A Dog Wash will be held from 9 a.m. to noon Saturday, July 31, at the SPCA Albrecht Center for Animal Welfare, 199 Willow Run Road. Baths, ear cleanings and nail trims will be available. Prices vary. For more information and a list of prices, visit letlovelive.org. Masks and social distancing are required.

AUG. 11

The James L. Hammons Detachment No. 939 of the Marine Corps League will meet from 6:30 p.m. today at the Knights of Columbus building, 1003 Spaulding Drive. New members are needed. Membership is open to all honorably discharged or currently serving Marines. Associate membership is opened to all branches of the military and family members. For more information, visit aikenmc1939.org.

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danieldukeauthor · 4 years

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Book Review: 'The Mysterious Life and Faked Death of Jesse James'

Book Review: ‘The Mysterious Life and Faked Death of Jesse James’

My sister / co-author Teresa F. Duke and I are very honored to have received such a wonderful book review from Kris at Whiskey & Wit Book Reviews. I’ll post an excerpt of it below and you can click on that excerpt to read the book review in it’s entirety at Whiskey & Wit Book Reviews. While there, subscribe to her website for more great book reviews!

The Mysterious Life and Faked Death of Jesse…

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#5 star #authors #book review #book reviews #Daniel J. Duke #excerpt #five star #History #James L. Courtney #Jesse James #new book #Old West #outlaw #paperback #Teresa F. Duke #The Mysterious Life and Faked Death of Jesse James #Whiskey & Wit #Whiskey & Wit Book Reviews #wild west

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crimsonrevolt · 6 years

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Congratulations Chloe you’ve been accepted to Crimson Revolt as Sybill Trewlawney!

↳ please refer to our character checklist

Your application was such a treat to find in our inbox, Chloe! From the expanded traits to the wonderful headcanons you gave, your Sybill is so wonderfully fleshed out. The love you have for her is amazing and we all loved just how well you captured her - ‘she’s always been unafraid to march to the beat of her own drum‘ completely sold us. It’s so clear to see from you application just how much you’ve thought about the role that Sybill has to play in the war and gone into so much detail about her involvement with Aversio it’s such a pleasure to see! We think that Sybill will fit in just wonderfully and we cannot wait to have you both in our roleplay!

Application beneath the cut

OUT OF CHARACTER

INTRODUCTION

Chloe, she/her, GMT, from England

ACTIVITY

Well it’s been a little while since I’ve actively roleplayed so I might start out a little rusty, but given the preference you have for longer threads and your lenient activity limit I’m sure I’ll be around fairly often, like three times a week at least. (to give you a number I’d say like 7/10 on the active scale)

TRIGGERS

*removed for privacy

HOW DID YOU FIND US?

I was looking through the hp rp tag, and to be honest I was looking specifically for a Sybill Trelawney to play that I felt was actually a good representation of her character and also sat within an rp that had a good plot aha

WHAT HARRY POTTER CHARACTER DO YOU IDENTIFY WITH MOST?

Maybe a cliché but I really loved Ginny (in the books of course, don’t EVER get me started with the mess they made of her character in the movies dear god) she was spunky and confident (and ginger like myself, which tbqh has made me slightly bias in favour of the whole Weasley clan. Like you’re telling me not only do they deal w/ shit for being blood traitors but they redheads too??? Hard knock life, my man.) And of course my dear Sybill, who was just trying to be understood in a world that wasn’t quite ready for her.

ANYTHING ELSE?

Nope

IN CHARACTER

DESIRED CHARACTER

Sybill Trelawney

FACE CLAIM

Alycia Debnam Carey isn’t an fc I’ve ever worked with before but after browsing her tag and doing a little research she seems an excellent choice for Sybill in my opinion, and since she’s your chosen fc too I’m sure you’d have no problem with me picking her. (I am also partial to Juno Temple as Sybill, but I kinda feel that’s getting a little overdone)

REASON FOR CHOSEN CHARACTER

Uhhhh this is just a general comment but I really love that you’ve made Sybill a big of a fighter and actually self confident like all the time I see her portrayed as this scared little thing and I don’t think that’s accurate, like I’ve always felt that (at least in her younger years, before the world beat her down a bit) Sybill would have been a passionate and confident woman with faith in her gift and a desire to set the world to rights. Her words aren’t always tactful, sure, but I think everything Sybill says she says because she thinks it needs to be heard.

When I first read about this Aversio group you’d created I wasn’t sure that putting Sybill in with such people was the right choice but after a little thought the idea really grew on me. I think Sybill’s visions have forced her to witness so much death and destruction that she has been powerless to prevent, and who wouldn’t be made angry like that? Who wouldn’t grab the first chance that came along to take back some of that power, to try and defend the people she loved? Sybill is part of this group for all the right reasons. She’s fighting for freedom and safety, but she’s not naïve, she doesn’t think the order sitting around and just waiting to form counter attacks are doing enough. I also feel she was something of a loner in school and despite being quite clever was never really invited into or considered for the order and so perhaps this comes from the ever so slight niggling urge she has to prove herself, because despite being a hippy dippy seer she’s also capable of affecting change and taking part in things. (If anything her visions and prophecies have only made her more determined to change the world, for she will have seen how truly tits up everything could go.)

I just have a longstanding love for Sybill, she’s always been unafraid to march to the beat of her own drum. Like, refusing to take on the name ‘higglebottom’ and so causing the end of your own marriage?? That’s hardcore. That’s a woman who won’t take no shit. Yeah, I love Sybill and I am forever searching for an rp with what I feel is an accurate representation of her. This is getting long so I’ll wind it down now, but if you’d like to hear anything more about my love for Syb pls just do message me lmao.

PREFERRED SHIPS // CHARACTER SEXUALITY // GENDER & PRONOUNS

Sybill has always been wary of romance and love. With her gift it is easy to see the multitude of ways things can fall apart. Not only that, but it is hard to find someone with complete faith in this gift of hers, someone who truly believes all her madcap ramblings and feels the power of nature and the universe as much as she does. (Of course, she would only ever settle down with someone who believed in this power as much as she did and yet like her was not afraid to question it.) Sex is different to romance, though, I think Sybill views sex as something much simpler and it’s very much a pleasure she indulges in without ever feeling guilty about it. Honestly I think she can be quite the flirt when she wants, not ashamed of her desire to lure a man or woman into her bed for the night, because why should we deny ourselves such a simple craving? We shouldn’t.

As far as ships go I’m very happy just to go with the flow, nothing prioritised. Sybill goes by she/her pronouns, did consider them/they for a while but after some contemplation in the forest realised her energy was decidedly feminine in its nurturing and care, even if it was a little wilder and more adventurous. (Sexuality I touched on a little above, i feel like she’d be very fluid about it and call herself bisexual if pushed on the subject)

CREATE ONE (OR MORE!) OF THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR CHARACTER:

-EXPAND ON THE TRAITS

Self-assured- Sybill has gotten comfortable with her gift of sight, and by extension- since she’s long felt like that was the most drastic aspect of her personality- the rest of herself. She’s confident in who she is and the doubts of others can no longer throw her off her chosen course.

Free-spirited- spends a lot of time out in nature, but its much more than that. Sybill is very unassuming and so as long as what/who you are is not a cause of harm (for example, unless you are a death eater) she is quite happy to not only let you continue with your life and hobbies, but likely also interested in learning about it. She is happy for you to be in love, she is happy for you to mindlessly fuck, she is happy for you to abstain and spend all your time writing. As long as your soul is good and warm, you can be counted as a friend of Sybill’s.

Crafty- well, there’s the obvious definition of her being artistic which is true, Sybill likes to paint and tell fanciful stories and take one mans trash to make into her own treasure. But her crafty mind also makes her quite statistical, she can wriggle her way out of almost any problem and really earns her keep as one of the strategic minds of Aversio.

Genuine- Another fairly obvious I feel. Some of the stuff Sybill says may be odd, but she means every word of it. This applies to her actions too. She has not one conniving or manipulative bone in her body, she never lies. Everything Sybill does is honest and true to the core of who she is.

Dreamer- constantly lost in her own world. Idealistic almost to a fault, often too optimistic about the future. Sometimes too optimistic about the present and so gets herself into dangerous situations just because she underestimated the circumstances.

Emotional- oh GOD if you criticise Sybill’s shoes she will CRY for a week. If you call her pretty in passing it will make her smile all year. Let me be clear here I don’t think Sybill holds grudges or has preferences, but I think she remembers everything that people do and everything impacts her as much as it did at the time it truly happened (does that make sense? Every time she remembers that Lily once complimented her hair it fills her with the same joy as the initial compliment did, for example.) I think this is why her gift takes such a toll on her, every bad thing that happens (whether it really ends up happening or not) affects her psyche terribly.

Dramatic- it’s very up and down with Sybill. I think being dramatic is good and bad, because every small show of kindness is an absolute joy but also every little negative moment or action is the worst betrayal imaginable. Nothing is done in halves by Sybill.

Weird- I mean self explanatory. She talks to plants, she’s constantly blabbering on about the energies of nature and the universe. She relies too heavily on her inner eye to guide her rather than just watching and responding. It’s a weirdness she’s comfortable with but that doesn’t mean everyone else is so ok with it, sometimes she makes people uncomfortable with her frank statements and odd habits.

-A FEW HEADCANONS

Sybill can play guitar. Yeah, she loves music, I think she plays guitar really very well and finds it quite relaxing (can’t think about anything else if you’re trying to master difficult songs y’know) but it isn’t a talent she often shares.

She writes poetry too, doesn’t call it that, just calls it writing. Often times her visions and prophecies can be a lot to digest and so writing about it all can help to sort her crazy imaginings from what might actually be possible.

Not adverse to substance abuse. She lives alone, and sometimes being part of Aversio leaves her incredibly amped up and angry, so it can be difficult to sleep. A few glasses of whiskey or a couple of joints sort that problem out, though.

Can get aggressive with fellow Aversio members. See she knows they can handle it and all the negative energy has to go somewhere (where else would she take it out? Nature? Absolutely not.)

She meditates because it helps focus her inner eye.

-A FEW POTENTIAL PLOT POINTS

This aggression with Aversio members might be an interesting one- like, does she think some of them are really just death eaters afraid to admit that? Are some of them scared of her? Do they think she’s too pushy with the people she’s supposedly aligned with? Yeah, lots interesting to say there.

Of course as an Aversio member there’s always the chance that the order or DE might find out that she’s part of such a group and try to sway her one such way (the DE would have no chance, and i don’t really see the order being much luckier, though she may be willing to form some kind of cooperation with them.)

There’s always the chance of her abandoning everything to just live in the forest.

More prophecies or visions! Are they always accurate? Who knows?!?!?! No one really.

IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE

The following section should be looked at like a survey for your character. Answer them in character and feel free to use gifs. Or, if you’d rather, answer them in third person or OOC without gifs. Answers do not have to be extremely lengthy.

♔ If you were able to invent one spell, potion, or charm, what would it do, what would you use it for or how would you use it? Feel free to name it:

I think I’d like to invent a potion that would make me immune to all poisons. To be honest, that’s one of the few things that forces me to buy actual food from shops and stops me from living purely off the foods nature provides. I’m quite worried about being poisoned by something not meant for me you see, so if I had a potion that meant no such poisons affected me I would live only off the bounty provided by nature.

♔ You have to venture deep into the Forbidden Forest one night. Pick one other character and one object (muggle or magical), besides your wand, that you’d want with you:

I think Xenophilius Lovegood would make for very good company. He’s easy on the eye and we’re both the types who see more in the world than most people do. I don’t suppose i’d pick anyone for their ability to keep me safe- I’m quite capable of that, thank you. Rather I think I’d pick Xenophilius because we would not run out of things to talk about. Ad far as objects go, maybe a sword? They fascinate me to be perfectly honest- so violent, so pretty- and I think it would be most useful should magic fail me.

♔ What kinds of decisions are the most difficult for you to make?

Who to send on missions or counter attacks. It’s never very easy to decide if you need stealth and logic or aggression and strength, you know? And always I am so fearful that by sending the wrong type we will do more harm than good.

♔ What is one thing you would never want said about you?

That I am a liar. That’s easy, people can say much about me as long as they always believe I am true.

WRITING SAMPLE

Sybill could not sleep. This was not a rare occurrence. More often than not she’d use alcohol or drugs to knock herself out for the night, acutely aware of all the work that there was to be done the next day and so too focused on being alert for that to be concerned with her own body. Tonight, however, she chose the forest. And drugs. There was a lovely little wood right by her house (would Sybill move anywhere without nature close by? Of course not.) And so she meandered through the trees until a small clearing came about, settling herself with a joint and her notebook for a sleepless night.

See, tomorrows attack did not directly involve her. It was more an urban stealth mission, not really her style, and so she saw no harm in turning up to the meeting a little tired and out of it. Hey, she was usually ‘out of it’ as far as the others thought anyway, and so what was the harm really. So for this plan she had taken more a strategic role, using her gift to her advantage to help plan the timing, who she be where and when they should be there. It was something of an arduous task to be honest, left her a little drained to look so closely at individuals, but Sybill would never complain about it. Her inner eye was a gift very few possessed and she intended to use it to it’s full potential.

Besides being out here among nature’s glory with her writing and a joint would be sufficient to restore the balance of her energy. She took a drag and sighed into the quiet night, shifting to lay on her back and feel the full flow of the earth against her body. Her fingertips tingled and her toes curled. God, you know what would really help her sleep? Sex. But so few were as interested in no strings in the same way she was. Still willing to form a connection and truly bon with each other, just not so insistent that such a bond be permanent. It was okay to need someone only for a night or two. The summer she’d bounced around muggle music festivals had spoiled her, obviously. Maybe most wizards were so interested in commitment because it carried on the family name.

Not that she could blame them for such. Cassandra Trelawney had claimed the gift skipped three generations after all and by golly the family had seen to it that her point be proved. The idea made her giggle, bright energy pushing out against a dark sky.

Whatever the case, she was antsy and restless and worried about tomorrows plans. Worried about tomorrows’ people. If things went wrong those few were the ones who would pay most dearly. She closed her eyes, trying to feel the influence of the universe move through her and search for the answers she desired. Would tomorrow be okay? Had they chosen well? The universe, as it so often was in what it considered small affairs, had little more to offer than a small reassurance that Sybill wasn’t driving towards utter disaster.

#Accepted App #illness and timezones worked against us but we're thrilled to have you!

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dandonnarumma · 6 years

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TOP 50 RELEASES OF THE YEAR PT. 2

Without a question, 2017 was the year of Planning for Burial. I've been a big fan of his music for a while now, and this year just further cemented Thom Wasluck's musical genius for me. I can't say how many times I've listened to Below the House, but it's an absurd amount. Like, a ridiculously absurd amount. From the pounding and guttural bombardment of Whiskey and Wine to the droning and ambient anguish of Dull Knife pt. 2, that album is utterly enthralling, and encapsulates the mood and emotions of sadness and melancholy so perfectly. It's an album that I connected to upon first listen, and haven't stopped jamming since its release back in March. If one fantastic release wasn't enough, Planning for Burial also released Matawan-Collected Works 2010-2014, which boasts some of my favorite songs from him to date, including I Hope You’ll Pick Me Out and I Put Red House Painters on a Mixtape for You. A collection of rarities and unreleased tracks that were recorded between his first and second albums comprises this release, and god damn does it not disappoint.

I was also fortunate enough to see Planning for Burial twice this year-once with the mighty and amazing Have a Nice Life and then this weekend here in Rochester, NY. The Boston show will forever be one of the best shows I’ve ever witnessed, and seeing Planning for Burial and then Have a Nice Life was almost like an out of body experience. Both times I saw Planning for Burial, I was floored and amazed by what I was hearing and seeing, and by the fact that what I was hearing was just one dude, a guitar, an insane pedal board, and some amps. Like, what?! Conversely, Funeral Advantage's Please Help Me delves into the sadness of breaking up in a much more upbeat dream-pop manner. Please Help Me and CEOT7K are two of my favorite songs of the year, and I absolutely danced like a maniac to CEOT7K at my wedding back in August. This EP is incredible, and my only knock against it is that it's not an LP. I want more from Funeral Advantage, and hope we get some more music in the near future. From there, Blueprints for an Empty Vessel by Pallow continued to traverse the waters of gloomy and melancholic music so thoughtful, creatively, and magnificently . Blueprints for an Empty Vessel's melodic gloomgaze immediately hooked me in with Holding and then punched me in the gut by the end of the album with Dreaming for Letters. I feel that this album will wind up being one of the most underrated releases of 2017, but it shouldn't be. It's a phenomenal album with incredible lyrics. Between this LP and their two EPs, there’s not a single song of theirs that I don’t think is awesome as hell. Do not sleep on this band. Next up is Long Island's amazing Iron Chic. I'm not sure there is any other band that fully encapsulates the doldrums of your late 20's/early 30's as perfectly as Iron Chic does, and Can't Stay Here is a prime example of that. I found myself relating to so many of the lyrics throughout this album, and totally sang them as loud as possible more than a few times. Iron Chic is hands down my favorite punk band, and Can't Stay Here is yet another slam dunk from a band that has released some of my favorite albums over the last decade or so. I can't wait to stage dive and sing along when I see them at the Bug Jar next month. Then there's Sannhet's So Numb. Good god does this band and album rip. Do yourself a favor, put on Sleep Well, turn the volume up as loud as possible, sit back, and prepare to headbang until your neck is about to break. Holy shit is this album incredible. I've yet to see them play live, and I've heard their live show is unbelievably awesome, so that's on the list of things I have to do. This album is amazing from start to finish, and these dudes reign as the kings of post-metal, as far as I'm concerned. Between Chelsea Wolfe's Hiss Spun, Death Bell's Standing at the Edge of the World, All Out War's Give Us Extinction, and All Pigs Must Die's Hostage Animal, my ears and brain were in heaven all throughout the year, and the amazingness didn’t stop there, as there would even be more amazing releases from some of my favorite bands as the year progressed. Godspeed You! Black Emperor, King Woman, my long anticipated wait for a Death of Lovers LP, Full of Hell, Big Brave, Incendiary setting the world ablaze, and Jacob Bannon's incredible debut of Wear Your Wounds all assaulted me, made me want to sing, dance, sit in a corner and be miserable, scream at the top of my lungs, headbang into oblivion, and pick up a guitar and write music. 2017 was a fantastic year for music, with some of my favorite music to date being released. If you’ve yet to check any of these bands or releases out, do it to it, Lars, because you won’t be disappointed.

Here’s my top 25 releases of 2017:

25. Damn.-Kendrick Lamar

24. Auras-Deafcult

23. Music for Chilling Out-The American Dollar

22. Covert Cult of Death-Low Estate

21. Every Country’s Sun-Mogwai

20. Thousand Mile Stare-Incendiary

19. After the Party-The Menzingers

18. Voids-Minus the Bear

17. The Dusk In Us-Converge

16. Ardor-Big Brave

15. WYW-Wear Your Wounds

14. Trumpeting Ecstasy-Full of Hell

13. The Acrobat-Death of Lovers

12. Created in the Image of Suffering-King Woman

11. Luciferian Towers-Godspeed You! Black Emperor

10. Hostage Animal-All Pigs Must Die

9. Give Us Extinction-All Out War

8. Matawan-Collected Works 2010-2014-Planning for Burial

7. Standing at the Edge of the World-Death Bells

6. Hiss Spun-Chelsea Wolfe

5. So Numb-Sannhet

4. Can’t Stay Here-Iron Chic

3. Blueprints for an Empty Vessel-Pallow

2. Please Help Me-Funeral Advantage

1. Below the House-Planning for Burial

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penniesforthestorm · 3 years

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“But us sheep? We won’t never get struck out.”: ‘Justified’ Season 1, Episodes 10-12

The fuse has been lit, and the sparks are starting to fly, as we come to the final stretch of Justified’s premier season. For the finale, “Bulletville”, I’ll be doing a more conventional ‘review’, wrapping up some thoughts on the season as a whole. If you’re just joining us, my notes for the pilot, episodes 2-5, and 6-9 can be found by clicking the links. Read on for more...

Episode Ten: “The Hammer”

-We’re introduced to Boyd’s new church, as he lays out his philosophy to an aspiring acolyte, Bobby Joe: replacing addiction or other types of recidivism with a sense of purpose, which, y’know, isn’t the worst idea.

-Raylan arrives, and can’t resist poking the bear, in a mocking address to Boyd’s ‘congregation’. “...May this food provide them with the nourishment they need, but if it does not, may they find comfort in knowing that the US Marshals Service is offering $50,000 to any individual providing information that will put Boyd back in jail. We can make the check out to cash, or to Jesus.”

-Case of the week: eccentric federal judge Mike “The Hammer” Reardon (Stephen Root) requests Raylan for his personal security detail. Reardon’s penchant for strippers, whiskey, and ‘draconian’ sentencing add up to serious trouble.

-Boyd’s mission: wiping out meth in Harlan County (again, not the worst idea), which happens to be Papa Bo’s primary source of revenue. Cousin Johnny drops by for a revealing conversation--Johnny’s willing to turn on Bo if Boyd has a more successful scheme in mind. Boyd tells him, “Truth always sounds like lies to a sinner.”

-Raylan tracks down ‘Preacher Fandy’, whose church was bombed in the pilot, to see if he’ll testify against Boyd. He’s dropped the Rasta act, and notes that it’s been three months since the bombing.

-Raylan and Reardon have a long chat about regrets-- Reardon describes an early case he feels he was too lenient in, and brings up the subject of Raylan’s Miami adventure, asking, if Bucks had been unarmed, “Would it have changed what you did?”

-Boyd blows up a backwoods meth lab, and, to his dismay, is informed that there was someone inside.

-The Reardon adventure reaches a crisis: Virgil Corum, released after an eight-year stint for possession, corners the judge at his favorite bar. Reardon clumsily fires on him, but Raylan stops him. The judge, indignant, protests, “I thought you guys shoot people all the time! That’s why I picked you!”

-Raylan visits “Fandy”/Otis again, and realizes he’s misread the situation: Otis didn’t identify Boyd because he genuinely didn’t see him. He offers to testify if Raylan will show him a picture of Boyd, but Raylan, wised up in light of his other escapades, tells him, “I’m not that guy.”

Episode Eleven: “Veterans”

-Raylan and the marshals raid Boyd’s camp, and Raylan catches Dewey Crowe, struggling to escape his own tent. The casualty in Boyd’s meth-lab bombing was a CI for the State Police.

-Raylan and Art question Boyd, and Art is infuriated by Boyd’s use of the Bible to justify his own ends, sending him on his way with some hard words about “the hand of righteousness.”

-Nicky, one of the cookers from the lab, comes to Bo and Johnny Crowder asking for protection. Raylan visits Sheriff Mosley in prison, and finds out that Arlo took over Bo’s collections after Bo’s arrest, but couldn’t maintain control.

-Bo visits Boyd, and attempts to bring him to heel with an “offering” of the protection money he’s collected. Boyd doesn’t exactly turn him down, but neither is he willing to follow orders outright.

-Raylan and Art, attempting to track down Arlo, have a chat with Aunt Helen. She sends them off to the VFW, but, as neither Raylan nor Art are veterans, they can’t enter. Finally, Art calls Deputy Tim, and the three of them try to convince Arlo to give them info on Bo, but Arlo and Raylan’s mutual animosity gets in the way. Outside, a call comes from the police that the two survivors of the lab explosion are no longer, uh, surviving...

-Next day, Arlo meets with Bo. Arlo pleads his case-- the “young punks” didn’t respect him. Bo counters that he placed his trust in Arlo precisely because of his age (as an example, he mentions that Johnny would’ve had ambitions ‘above his station’), and cautions Arlo to come up with the money he lost.

-1st appearance of ‘Lemuel’ and his store of various mechanical wonders, visited by Boyd.

-Raylan encounters Dewey Crowe hitchhiking, and Dewey explains that he was kicked out of Boyd’s ‘flock’ for some... unfortunate personal proclivities, much to Raylan’s derision. Raylan, in a flash of inspiration, ‘deputizes’ Dewey into the Marshal Service, and Dewey instantly explains why Boyd targeted that particular lab- on behalf of his new convert Bobby.

-The church camp is raided again, and Raylan and Boyd have another tete-a-tete. Boyd drops the perturbing detail that Arlo worked closely with Bowman Crowder, and Ava may have known about it.

-Raylan finds Ava, who doesn’t want to hear his plea for her safety. After a confrontation with one of Bo’s goons, a creep named Hessler, Raylan packs Ava into his car and calls Winona, who somewhat bemusedly agrees to host her for the night.

-Arlo and Helen chase off an intruder, blasting away side-by-side. Meanwhile, a contrite Dewey begs to return to Boyd’s flock. Boyd raises his pistol, but decides on mercy instead, telling Dewey to scram. Bobby shows up at the Marshals’ Office, taking the fall for the lab explosion.

Episode Twelve: “Fathers and Sons”

-Arlo shows up, claiming willingness to sing for the marshals, but it’s an open question whether it’ll be the tune they want to hear.

-Bo Crowder meets with Gio, the cartel honcho, in Miami, arranging for a shipment of ephedrine to be delivered by Gio’s assistants, Ernesto and Pilar. In passing, Gio mentions Raylan, hinting that he still wants revenge for Tommy Bucks.

-A pair of strained conversations: Ava at Winona’s, and Arlo at Raylan and Art’s office. Ava is suspicious of Winona’s friendliness toward Raylan; Winona attempts to toss it off. “It’s kinda hard to stay mad at Raylan,” she says. Ava responds, “I wouldn’t know; I’m just getting started.” Arlo refuses to wear a wire to meet with Bo, and he and Raylan goad each other almost to blows.

-Bo, Johnny, Hessler, and a chemist meet with a realtor to rent out space for processing Gio’s ephedrine. During a discussion of the details, Bo sends Johnny away.

-That evening, Ava returns home to find Hessler and his buddies drinking beer in her living room, seemingly on Bo’s orders, and she flees. Winona drops by Raylan’s motel room, and things quickly get intimate. As Winona leaves, we see Ava parked outside. The next morning, Ava visits Aunt Helen, and asks if she can get her hands on a gun.

-Bo and Boyd attend an actual church, and Boyd ‘witnesses’ to the congregation, in a wild, amped-up screed. He proclaims his allegiance to his “one true father”, i.e., The Man Upstairs, grinning pointedly at his earthly patriarch. Outside, Bo gives him a stern serving of ‘Crowder gospel’, boiling down to ‘this joke isn’t funny anymore’.

-Trouble at the VFW: a young soldier about to be redeployed to Afghanistan is threatening to blow the place with a live grenade. Arlo, cool as a cucumber, sits with him and hears his story: He received the epithet “Lucky” after the rest of his unit was killed in Iraq while he was sidelined by an asthma attack. Arlo responds with another parable from the Book of Givens (Old Testament): in Vietnam, his unit was ambushed, and he managed to hide while the rest were dragged off. The story is false, but the lesson is true-- Lucky’s crisis is “why me?”, and Arlo’s answer is “why not you?” Outside, Arlo tells Raylan he’ll wear the wire.

-Ava storms into Johnny’s bar, armed with a sawed-off shotgun, to give Bo a piece of her mind. Johnny attempts to intervene, but she waves him off. Bo tells her he doesn’t want to kill her, but warns her to get out of Kentucky. She tells Bo she’s already shot one Crowder.

-Arlo meets with Bo, wired, but with a trick up his sleeve: he flashes Bo a message that their conversation is being monitored, and hands him an envelope stuffed with newspaper clippings, instead of the $20,000 the marshals gave him as a peace offering. Bo sets up another meeting and mentions that if Arlo ‘sees Raylan’, tell him to get Ava under control. Raylan goes riding off, but Ava has dug herself in.

-Bo’s ephedrine shipment is making its way into town, but gets held up by Boyd, who has a brand-new rocket launcher and seems only too delighted to use it.

So, the table’s all set for the finale. (It seems uniquely apt that my thoughts on said finale will be posted on Good Friday.) See you around....

#tv #recap #long post #justified #did you miss my heart on purpose

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kaos-sverige · 4 years

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Arnold Schwarzenegger on Pandemic, Uniting Democrats & Republicans, and His Pets Whiskey & Lulu

Published on Apr 23, 2020

Arnold introduces us to his miniature horse Whiskey & his donkey Lulu, and he talks about how his preparation for potential emergencies as Governor has helped during the current pandemic, working with current California Governor Gavin Newsom, and uniting Democrats and Republicans so that we can tackle this pandemic together. Arnold's buddy Ed Norton joins in to talk about the new initiative he and Arnold have been working on to bring protective equipment to frontline responders combating COVID-19. In honor of Ed & Arnold’s work and the work of all the amazing health care workers across the world, Jimmy will be making a donation to their Frontline Responders Fund. Go here to donate and get involved - https://www.gofundme.com/f/frontliner... #JimmyKimmelLiveFromHisHouse SUBSCRIBE to get the latest #Kimmel: http://bit.ly/JKLSubscribe Watch Mean Tweets: http://bit.ly/KimmelMT10 Connect with Jimmy Kimmel Live Online: Visit the Jimmy Kimmel Live WEBSITE: http://bit.ly/JKLWebsite Like Jimmy Kimmel on FACEBOOK: http://bit.ly/KimmelFB Like Jimmy Kimmel Live on FACEBOOK: http://bit.ly/JKLFacebook Follow @JimmyKimmel on TWITTER: http://bit.ly/KimmelTW Follow Jimmy Kimmel Live on TWITTER: http://bit.ly/JKLTwitter Follow Jimmy Kimmel Live on INSTAGRAM: http://bit.ly/JKLInstagram About Jimmy Kimmel Live: Jimmy Kimmel serves as host and executive producer of Emmy®-nominated “Jimmy Kimmel Live!,” ABC’s late-night talk show. “Jimmy Kimmel Live!” is well known for its huge viral video successes, with over 11 billion views and more than 15 million subscribers on the show’s YouTube channel. Some of Kimmel’s most popular comedy bits include “Celebrities Read Mean Tweets,” “Lie Witness News,” “Unnecessary Censorship,” “Halloween Candy YouTube Challenge,” and music videos like “I (Wanna) Channing All Over Your Tatum.”

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americanahighways · 4 years

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Southern charms win over a Midwest audience

Hailing from North Carolina, Mandolin Orange consists of musicians Andrew Marlin and Emily Frantz—a singer-songwriting duo whose music evokes intimacy and warmth that instantly transports a listener to a welcome comfort zone.

Spanning the space between folk and bluegrass, Marlin and Frantz sing about the range of personal experiences one can encounter—loss, heartbreak and grief, but also joy, playfulness and the tenderness of memories of those who are with us and those who have come before.

Mandolin Orange performed at Milwaukee’s Pabst Theater on Wednesday, January 29, 2020 before a packed house filled with devoted followers and new fans.

Mandolin Orange was created in 2009, following the meeting of Frantz and Marlin in the Chapel Hill area and the joining of their musical talents. Mandolin Orange has published 6 albums since 2010, with their most recent, Tides of a Teardrop, coming out last February to rave reviews.

This was the band’s first performance in Milwaukee. At the beginning of the show, Frantz described getting off the tour bus that morning. After she walked to the Milwaukee River running through downtown and breathed in the cold air, she said “This is the Milwaukee I’ve always dreamed of!” It was perhaps a bit of a shock for someone more used to temperate North Carolina weather.

On-stage, they described The Pabst Theater, Milwaukee’s landmark theater built in 1895 and styled after European opera houses, as their favorite theater. Naturally, the crowd welcomed the tribute.

Given that this was the band’s initial appearance in Milwaukee, Frantz said their set list represented a broad selection of songs from all their albums.

Mandolin Orange began the set with three songs from their Tides of a Teardrop release. The band led off with “Golden Embers,” one of many of the songs on the album evoking loss, heartbreak and grief—dedicated to the memory of Marlin’s mother, who passed away during his teen years.

Although much of the band’s music is calm, comfortable and nostalgic, they did amp up the performance at times in true bluegrass/fiddle style. Leading into their fiddle-ripping tune, “Hawk as a Mule,” Andrew Marlin relayed how easy it was to write great fiddle songs when properly inspired. After seeing a hawk on a fence while traveling, he thought that would be great inspiration. This morphed into ‘hawk on a stump.’ Then, their experience with legal marijuana in Seattle and fears of carrying it over the border to a performance in Vancouver, Canada, led Marlin to think “what if you could train a hawk to carry weed over the border?” The result—“Hawk as a Mule”—a wild frenzy of fiddling punctuated with Emily’s shouts of “there’s a hawk!”

Few performers draw in their audience like Mandolin Orange. Between each song, Andrew and Emily interacted with the crowd by passing on stories of the road, their lives and experiences. At one point, Andrew complimented the dancing of the lone guy on his feet in the third row.

The band has evolved over time. Early on in their music career, Marlin and Frantz played almost exclusively as a duo. For Mandolin Orange’s last two albums, Blindfaller and Tides of a Teardrop, they have incorporated a more complete band approach with their touring band. Joining Marlin and Frantz on stage, as well as on their latest album, were Josh Oliver on guitar, Clint Mullican on the upright bass, and Joe Westerlund on drums.

Andrew Marlin leads the songwriting efforts of the group, although Frantz contributes to the direction and feeling of the songs, as well as the lyrics and usually “tries to wait until she’s asked.”

Marlin also sang lead vocals on many of the songs. A few times, his voice struck a chord sounding like Willie Nelson—especially evident during “When She’s Feeling Blue.”

Emily Frantz took over lead vocals on a couple of songs during the set. In “Like You Used To,” she sings a tribute to the stability of a relationship and the reasons to stay, despite the ill-reasoned arguments and “all the dirt we’ve piled upon our layers of decay.”

Continuing their tribute to the audience and the theater, between one of the songs, Marlin quipped “We’ve played plenty of shows with Pabst inside of us—this is the first time we’ve played inside of Pabst!” Emily Frantz retorted: “How long have you been holding that in?”

Mandolin Orange returned to the stage for their encore, “Hey Stranger.” In recognition of the Pabst’s acoustics, they unplugged, came to the front of the stage, and played and sung without amplification. The crowd hushed to hear, and then rose to its feet at the end of the song in appreciation of the band’s performance.

Maybe there is something unique about folks from North Carolina or the South, or maybe it’s just this group of amazing artists. Whatever it is, Andrew Marlin and Emily Frantz have a way of drawing you in and having you walk away realizing you just made a couple new friends.

Kate Rhudy – Singing with Humor and Pathos

Raleigh-based songwriter Kate Rhudy opened for Mandolin Orange. Her professional music career has been closely intertwined with Andrew Marlin and Emily Frantz. Marlin was co-collaborator and producer on Rhudy’s 2017 debut Rock N’ Roll Ain’t For Me. Marlin and Frantz both back Rhudy on the album.

To this reviewer, Rhudy’s music falls squarely within Americana—a classification conveniently broad enough to easily embrace the elements of country and folk worked into her music. She’s been lauded as bringing a welcome change from the male perspective of Americana.

Rhudy opened her set with the song “Crazy,” which she said was her mother’s favorite. She continued with many of the songs from Rock N’ Roll Ain’t For Me, which reflect her early life experiences and college years.

Rhudy sings about past relationships in a humorous and sardonic way. Witness her song, “Boy From Charlevoix,” dedicated to a former boyfriend from that town in Michigan to whom she loaned a bolo tie so he could look like Alan Jackson. He ended up losing the tie when skinny dipping in Florida—something Rhudy appears not to have forgiven.

Up next in her set was “I Don’t Like You or Your Band” – an acknowledgement of what she calls the duality of humans. A remembrance of a former boyfriend: “I was in love with a good, good man, . . .And a cheater and a liar, don’t forget drunk driver.” The ability to be a good person and yet do stupid things.

Rhudy has a warm persona and comes across on stage as strong and self-assured. Yet, you only need to scratch the surface of her music and her wittiness to find her vulnerability and a persistent thread of heartache, resentment and profound disappointment. Definitely disappointment in others with perhaps a bit focused on herself.

These traits contribute to the honesty of her music. Rhudy sings with the heart of an old soul—someone who’s seen and experienced much more than might be expected at her age of 24 years.

Kate Rhudy wants to be taken seriously. This comes through loud and clear in her song, “The Only Pretty Thing in Texas,” written about a tour with a band she joined after dropping out of Appalachian State University. After declaring that the only pretty thing in Texas was her dress, Rhudy then goes on to sing how sick she is of all guitar playing men and being told she’s not good enough.

From the minute she walked on stage, Kate bonded closely with the audience. Many will remember her set as the ‘Saga of the Missing Button.’ Showing off a jacket she bought for $5 at a Milwaukee-area vintage clothing store, she stopped mid-song when it appeared a button had fallen off. She continued to look for it between songs and, with the help of a couple stagehands at the end of her set, triumphantly raised the lost button to wild cheers as she walked off stage.

Kate Rhudy rejoined Mandolin Orange for a few songs towards the end of the evening, first playing her fiddle and then providing accompanying vocals.

Kate Rhudy is definitely someone to keep an eye on!

For more information about Mandolin Orange and a list of their tour dates, visit www.mandolinorange.com. Also find out more about Kate Rhudy at www.katerhudy.com.

Mandolin Orange set list Milwaukee, WI 1.29.2020

Golden Embers The Wolves When She’s Feeling Blue There Was A Time Big Men In the Sky Paper Mountain Time We Made Time Like You Used To – duo Echo – duo Old Ties & Companions Hawk Is A Mule Into the Sun Wild Fire Waltz About Whiskey

Encore Hey Stranger (full acoustic)

Show Review: Mandolin Orange Warms a Midwest Crowd with Their Southern Charm with Kate Rhudy @mandolin_orange @shorefire @pabsttheater @katerhudy #americanamusic Southern charms win over a Midwest audience Hailing from North Carolina, Mandolin Orange consists of musicians Andrew Marlin and Emily Frantz—a singer-songwriting duo whose music evokes intimacy and warmth that instantly transports a listener to a welcome comfort zone.

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thegloober · 6 years

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8 Board Games For Adults That Will Amp Up Your Next Game Night

There’s nothing like a little healthy competition between spouses or friends. What better way to pit you against one another — and see who might lose their cool and sweep the pieces off in one angry gesture — than a board game. Yes, your days are likely spent playing some family board games. But, while we have no problem with a quality game of Monopoly, Mouse Trap, or Shoots and Ladders, that’s not what this assortment of board games is for — it’s for you to enjoy with other adults, with maybe a whiskey in hand. Some are trivia-based, some are, let’s face it, focused on seeing who can come up with the best swear word or sex reference, others are just a good time. All are a fun way to spend an evening after the kids have gone to bed.

Villainous

Lots of Disney villains are way more interested than the heroes, so it’s great that they’re finally front and center in this strategy game. Beyond the beloved (or, depending on how you look at it, hated) characters, the game features pretty standard gameplay with pieces, a board, a few different kinds of cards, and tokens. Most of the villains featured, including Captain Hook and Jafar, are from older Disney movies, so there’s also the nostalgic fun of reconnecting with characters that you met at an impressionable age but haven’t thought about in a while.

Buy Now $35

Wit’s End

Trivial Pursuit is a classic, but it doesn’t have to be the only trivia game in your collection. Try Wit’s End, a game that goes beyond simple trivia questions. Each Wit’s End card games with four different questions: a brain teaser, Odd1Out (you pick the word in the list that doesn’t belong, like an SAT question), a sequence that needs to be ordered, and a wild card. It’s a game that appeals to trivia diehards but doesn’t require you to be one in order to be competitive.

Buy Now $35