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the-great-imagines-of-1812 · 4 years

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To Love Another pt. 3 (Jo March x fem! Laurence! reader)

A/N: I am on a ROLL. feedback is appreciated!!

prologue - part 1 - part 2 - part 3

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THE LAURENCE HOUSE LIBRARY

JANUARY 1862

Laurie stood on the couch with a knee propped up on the table. You were sitting on his knee, both of you looking out the window.

“Sit down, you two. Getting to learn Latin is a privilege. You must learn this. I cannot afford to lose this position.” Mr. Brooke said, desperately trying to get you two to focus on the lesson at hand.

Staring at the solid white snow, a figure appears, and you tilt your head. It was a girl. “There’s a girl out there.” You said, squinting your eyes and leaning forward.

Mr. Brooke sighs, “No. There is not a girl. Back to the lesson, Y/N.”

“No! There is a girl!” Laurie, said, hopping off the couch and taking your hand, dragging you with him. He opens the window, and he stays inside while you sit on the ledge.

“Hello there! Are you hurt?” Laurie says, now resting his forearms on the ledge.

“Mr. and Ms. Laurence, you are going to catch a cold-” Mr. Brooke started, but getting cut off.

The little girl was sniffling. “I am Amy March!”

“Hello there Amy, I’m Laurie.” he said, giving her a polite smile. “Greetings! I’m his sister, Y/N.” also, giving her a smile.

“I know you two! You brought my sister home from the dance, didn’t you? I would have never sprained my ankle as she did. But now i can’t even go back home!” She said, now full-on crying, holding up her hand.

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

Amy now sat on the couch with her bandaged hand, as she looked at the art on the walls. She pointed to one on the wall with a beautiful lake and trees and flowers.

“Tell the servants I want this one purchased immediately!” Amy said, pointing a finger at it.

Laurie laughs at Amy being so confident. You came so sit next to her. “Do you like it? I painted it myself.” you finished, giving her a smile.

“I Love it-” she said. “Do you dream of opening your own art gallery? It’s lovely!!” you laughed. “Yes, that’s the ideal.”

“She’s in here!” a servant said, with Jo and Meg in a tow. Meg immediately goes to comfort Jo, and starts talking to Laurie about the situation. Jo immediately runs to you and gives you a hug. She looks around the library.

“Jo! I’ve missed you!” you said, as she was still gently holding your hand. You squeezed her hand. “I think I’ve missed you all the more! Look at all these books! Surely you mustn't be lonely!”

“I cannot live on these books alone, Sun Flower. I have some personal favorites up in my room.”

Jo hold your hand tighter and her eyes widen. “I must see! Who is your favorite author?” She finished.

“Charlotte Bronte, of course.” You turned around and said “Dear Brother, we shall be right back.” Laurie gave you a nod and a smile and turned back to Amy as you dragged Jo by the hand and led her up the stairs.

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

You heard Jo audibly gasp as she entered your room. It was tall and wide, with windows stretching up an entire wall. The bookshelves were many and the books were plentiful. So much, that you needed the assistance of a ladder to reach some.

You turned around and let go of her hand. “Welcome to my humble abode.” Jo remained frozen, mouth gaping. “Humble?! if I had this bedroom-”

Laughing, you turned around to face her. You gave her a smile. “Which one would you like to borrow?”

Jo kept her gaze on you and thought. “Jane Eyre. You must have it!” you nodded. “I do have in fact, several copies.” You glanced up the bookshelf and spotted the red back of the book and said “I’m always scared to climb up this ladder. I’m afraid of heights.” You said, breath getting quicker and wiping your hands on your skirt.

“I will.” Jo said. You looked at her, confused. “I’m sorry. I meant to say I’ll catch you if you fall. I always will.” She said, getting nervous, but loving the thought of you in her arms.

“A-Alright then.” You said, with a shaky breath. You climbed up the steps until you reached the shelf. You leaned over to grab it and made your way down.

On one of the last steps, you slipped and let out a yelp as Jo grabbed you by the waist, gently helping you down. “Hey, hey. I’ve got you.” she said, shushing you, giving you a quick peck on the cheek, as a protective instinct.

You stared into each others eyes for a few moments until you handed the book over to her. “H-here you go.”

She let go of a lingering hand on your waist and grabbed the book from your hand. “We should be going down.” She said, smiling down at her feet.

You grabbed her hand once again as you led her down the stairs.

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

As you entered the Library with Jo, you now saw what looked like the rest of the March family, along with your brother and grandfather.

“There you two are!” Grandfather said.

Marmee smiled at you two and said. “Well Mr. Laurence, Thank you for taking care of my girls.” he let out a chuckle, stroking his beard. “Come back anytime! You are always welcome here!”

Jo broke her silence. “And Beth would LOVE the piano!”

Marmee took her girls’ hands. “We must be going, girls.”

“Thank you!” all the girls said in unison.

“Come back anytime! My doors are always open. I’ll escort you to the door.” he says.

Jo gave your hand a squeeze and slipped a piece of paper in to your hand. This is for you.” She whispered. You nodded, with a blush on your cheeks.

She gave you one last smile before running off with her sisters. You unfolded the paper.

“Ms. Meg, you forgot your glove!” Mr. Brooke chased after them, Meg’s glove in hand; making you and Laurie laugh.

You unfolded the piece of paper Jo had given you.

The Poppy and The Sunflower.

a poem by Jo March for Y/N Laurence.

Your cheeks went red.

Before you could read it, you were interrupted by Mr. Brooke adjusting his overcoat. “Alright, you two. Back to work.”

You slipped the poem into your pocket and Laurie and you returned to your previous spot on the window.

Mr. Brooke groaned. “Sit down, you two!”

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

A/N: feedback is as always, appreciated!

Happy Reading!

Talya

#little women x reader #little women #little women x y/n #little women x you #meg march x reader #Meg March #beth march #beth march x reader #amy march x reader #amy march #jo march x fem! reader #jo march x y/n #jo march #jo march x you #laurie laurence x sister reader #Talya'swritings

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titriwrites · 4 years

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Polaroid Picture -- Chapter Thirteen

A/N: Huh, so what have you all been up to since April? *hides* I’m so sorry for the wait, but here, have a (hopefully) nice surprise on this lovely Sunday evening

Read either here on AO3 or under the cut :) And enjoy!

Chapter 13

Beth drives, humming along to the music on the radio, bobbing her head. It’s a warm day, and with the weekend approaching she’s in a good mood. Well, it’s not only the weather and the lack of traffic on her way – she’s taken the Friday off too in order to have one more day in Suffolk – that makes her happy today. It’s also that she hasn’t seen Diana in a few months, and she’s excited to be invited.

She wasn’t sure, Beth has to admit, about coming. It’s always been a little strange – at least her friends say so – to still be so close to her ex-husband’s family. But they don’t really understand. While they’re all close to their respective in laws, there’s something about knowing your boyfriend’s and later husband’s family almost as good as your own. They’d been so close, Tom, Emma, Sarah, Matt and Beth. There’d been sleepovers and ghost stories long before sex and love stories. And now with her own parents gone, Tom’s family became hers, and they adopted her and Matt with open arms.

It’s not her fault, really, that Tom’s been gone for so long to lose contact.

But she’s not thinking about Tom now. She’s enjoying the scenery, and then she’s going to enjoy the company of Diana, Sarah, Emma and their husbands and children. Beth laughs softly to herself. Jack and Yakov will possibly suffer a lot with all those women chatting and laughing away – though to be fair, there will also be cooking involved, and they’re almost always nice to the boys.

After half an hour longer on the road, Beth parks in the driveway of Diana’s home. It’s gotten even warmer, this Thursday quickly turning out to be lovely enough to spend some of the evening with a walk on the beach. Beth takes a deep breath as she gets out of her car. Goodness, she missed the smell of the seaside.

She’s not even fully reached the front door of the house, bag now in hand, when the door swings open and the shout from Sarah’s five-year-old daughter can be heard.

“Aunty Libby!” she shouts while running full speed ahead, her mother’s laughter behind her. Beth has learned not to cringe at the sound of the once so very familiar nickname. It’s not Violet’s fault her uncle – an uncle she probably doesn’t even know – used to call her the same. She simply couldn’t say ‘Beth’, and Diana, bless her heart, called her Libby once and it stuck with the little girl.

The little girl who’s now reaching Beth, who sweeps her up in her arms and twirls both of them around twice, shouts of joys coming from Violet. “Hello, Poppy.”

She scrunches up her nose. “That’s not my name.”

“Noooo?” Beth lips shape an ‘O’. “Really? Sorry, then I used the wrong flower. How are you, little Lilly?”

The girl in her arms giggles. “That’s not my name, too!”

“What? Just how many flowers are there then? Is it Rose? Or Petunia?”

“You’re silly, Libby.”

“Oh!” Beth pokes the little girl in the tummy, making her giggle. “I know. Hello, lovely Violet.” The smile on her face makes Beth almost cringe with how much it reminds her of Tom. Again, it’s not Violet’s fault. She simply resembles the Hiddleston part of her family a lot.

“Hello, Libby.”

They grin at each other as Beth carries her niece – she officially still is that just as Beth is her aunty, right? – back to Sarah and what Beth assumes is the rest of the family. And just as she thought, Sarah, Emma and Diana all greet the duo by the door. Already it’s a loud bunch, but Beth soaks it up and revels in it. There are hugs and warm words, Beth is putting down her bag, and in the background, she can hear Jack and Yakov presumably in the living-room watching what sounds like a movie.

Violet is still in her arms, she’s a bit heavier than the last time they’ve seen each other, which was probably three or four months ago. But it doesn’t matter, this heaviness. Beth’s so happy to see them all again.

But then she notices it. Emma and Sarah are exchanging glances, seemingly trying to convince the other to do something. Diana is the personified calm. Before Beth can ask about it though, Violet pipes up from her place in Beth’s arms.

“Can I sleep in your room, Aunt Libby?”

“Of course, you can if you want to.” Beth’s room is on the first floor right at the end of the hallway. She used to stay in there when she visited with Tom. It doesn’t look the same anymore, otherwise she wouldn’t be able to sleep there. Depending on how many people are in Diana’s house little Violet does have her own room though, on the ground floor with Sarah and Yakov sleeping in the former office. Maybe the parents were simply tired of it? “But don’t you want to sleep in your own room?”

“Don’t have one.”

“Oh?” Beth feels the mood shift. Emma’s and Sarah’s faces change, and this time there is a small flicker of something like cringing on Diana’s face. Blink and you miss it, though.

“Nah. Tom and Julia sleep there.”

Silence. Beth grins, then blinks. Huh? She’s heard ‘Tom and Julia’, but that can’t be. She’s tried not to even think those names for the last month. And yet, now it seems as Violet’s said them. Beth feels herself freezing.

“What?” It’s her voice filling the silence. Even the living-room seems to be quiet now. Or maybe Beth is just numb and deaf.

Violet’s got her sass from the Hiddlestons too, because she’s rolling her eyes now. “Tom and Julia sleep there,” she repeats. Slowly and a bit louder. Nope. Doesn’t sound better the second time around. Do they maybe know other couples with that name?

“Your…” Beth clears her throat. “Uhm…” She looks around. The adults exchange glances again, this time the sisters seem to send their mum looks that say ‘I told you so’. Beth still doesn’t know what’s going on. “Tom is here?”

***

Turns out, Tom is there. Not currently, and not for the past hours Beth’s been sitting in Diana’s kitchen, trying to decide whether she should just leave before Tom and Julia are back from their walk – so much Diana told her – or whether she can be brave and stay. But an entire long weekend with the two of them? No. Someone will be going to get killed that way. Or maybe both.

“Okay,” she sighs, sipping her tea and shooting a glance Diana’s way, who’s sitting across from her at the other end of the kitchen table. “Tell me again why you did it? And why you’re meddling with this?”

Diana actually has the nerve to look offended. “I don’t meddle. I simply invited my daughter in law.”

“Ex.”

“Not yet.”

“Diana.”

“Elizabeth.”

Beth opens her mouth to answer, maybe yell a bit, but she can’t go on, because in that moment there are noises at the front door. It’s the first time Diana starts to look a bit panicked and Beth watches with some sort of satisfaction, before her own panic sets in.

She doesn’t want this. She’s never wanted to see Tom – and most of all Julia – again, and now they’re going to walk through the kitchen door in less than 30 seconds. Maybe she can hide, or make a really quick exit through the garden behind the house? Or maybe hide in the garden? Yeah, running and hiding sound like good options now. Beth almost chokes on her tea, setting the mug down with shaking hands.

There’s laughter in the hallway, and the TV in the living-room is switched off. Of course, the family wants to listen in. A bunch of nosy people, the Hiddlestons and their partners.

And then, Beth catches a glimpse of Tom holding hands with his fiancée as they walk past the door, hanging up their jackets. Tom looks wary. Of course, he must have spotted the car in the driveway.

Then he turns his head, and suddenly Beth locks eyes with him. Her heart is beating fast, her mouth goes dry, and she can’t hear anything apart from her own breathing. Tom smiles, then blinks, then frowns, and in the end, he just looks shocked with eyes wide open, lips parted and his Adam’s apple moving as he swallows heavily.

Oh God. Damn, she should have left.

Before she can voice that thought or even think about anything else, Tom is approaching the kitchen with large steps, dragging Julia along with him.

“What—" Beth hears Tom’s fiancée, but there is no answer, because now Tom’s in the kitchen with them, looking from Diana to Beth, Diana and then Beth again.

“What the fuck is going on?” He goes from confused to angry in mere seconds, and although Beth has known him for more than twenty years now, she’s never seen him like that. Mad at her, yes, silent, brooding, disappointed, childish, all of that. But never once angry like this, veins pulsing, voice shaking along with the finger he’s pointing at her now, swallowing hard and going red and sweaty in seconds. “Why are you here?” he hisses. “What are you planning?”

“Tom—”

“No, Mum. I’m not talking to you at the moment.” He’s seething now, and despite the panic that settles in her gut, in her heart and in her brain, Beth hears footsteps approaching from the living-room. To listen in? Or to act quickly in case this goes out of hand? “I want to know what my ex-wife is doing here the same weekend we’re visiting.” He’s addressing Beth once more. “Do you even have any shame? Doesn’t this feel the slightest bit awkward for you?”

That’s it. That’s enough. But before Beth can stand up from the table and take her leave or even open her mouth to defend herself, Diana speaks up.

“I invited her. She didn’t know you’d be here, I haven’t told her. Don’t blame Beth for everything going on in your life, especially not the things going wrong. She’s a guest of mine.”

Beth swallows, and Tom does too. Behind him, Julia pipes up for the first time since they’ve entered the kitchen. “Well, this is lovely.”

“I want her gone,” Tom whispers, mostly to himself.

“Good,” Beth answers. “I want to go.”

“No!” It’s Diana, and she looks like she’s up for a fight to get her will. “I invited Beth over. Get over with it. I want Elizabeth here.”

“You want me to go then?”

Beth huffs. There it is, the childish side. Big, coming from someone who’s not cared about coming or going for the past six years.

“Don’t be stupid, Tom. I want both of you here.” With a glance at Julia, Diana clears her throat. “The three of you, of course. You’re all adults, you’re going to meet on more than this one occasion, I’m sure. If you meant what you said about visiting more often, there’ll be birthdays spent together.”

Beth glances at the couple. Still angry, still confused. This is going to be horrible. Worse than any family gathering she’s ever had to endure.

***

She stays. She’s actually staying in his mum’s house at the same time he’s there with Julia. Tom still can’t quite understand it. She must feel how uncomfortable this is, right?

And what has his mother been thinking inviting Libby... Beth, Beth of course, over? Tom believes his ex-wife when she says she wasn’t involved. She wouldn’t be that vile, and he can feel the awkwardness radiating off of her.

Julia isn’t any help at all, either. Tom almost feels like she’s bathing in this situation. Feeling smug, showing she’s with Tom now. Showing how Libby... Beth isn’t. He should say something. But should he really? Beth can leave too. She should, actually. It’s his mum’s house. He’s got every right to be here.

He sighs. He wanted to sit in his mother’s garden, relax, feel the sun on his face and not think about anything. That didn't work out so well. And yes, that's mostly Julia's fault. And maybe a little bit Beth's as well. Nah, that’s not true, and Tom knows that. But Julia went shopping. For him. And he doesn’t want to assume, but it could be possible that Julia maybe wants to show Beth who’s the boss of him now as well – not that there actually is one, thank you very much.

But yeah, anyway. Julia went shopping, he’s got new clothes – clothes he’s already wearing to make her happy – and then she went for a walk with his family. Well, at least she can’t see Tom’s pain then. He gets up and winces immediately. Damn it all to hell. Slowly, very slowly, he makes his way through the patio door and into the kitchen. Tom simply has to make it to his room, get out of the clothes and think of something to say to Julia. Maybe he could wrinkle it a bit? He glances at the fridge. No, no, she wouldn’t believe him if he said he used ketchup. For what anyway? Maybe he should fry some eggs?

Before Tom can make the – admittingly quite desperate – attempt to ruin his clothes, a voice stops him. He sighs. Of course, Beth didn’t go with them.

“I’m sorry, but how old are you?”

Huh? He looks at her, leaning there against the kitchen door leading into the hall. “Excuse me?”

Libby’s voice is full of laughter, her face looks like it’s almost splitting in two. “You look like a 12-year-old after a massive growth spurt.”

Tom looks down at himself. He knows what Beth means, but he won’t admit it for the life of him. “It’s fashionable now,” he tries to argue, “men wear it like this.” He was assured of it by Julia and the woman in the shop at least. He's not a hundred percent convinced, but what does he know about fashion anyway?

Beth shrugs, the grin still on her face. “Some men do, yes. But you hate short trousers. And you should. They look terrible, not just on you. Why would you wear trousers that are neither long nor really short? They don’t even reach your ankles.” She looks on sheepishly as she finishes. “Sorry, it’s really not my business.”

It’s really not. But Tom’s tired and he doesn’t want to argue with her. Doesn’t even want to agree with her, either. He just needs to make it down the hall, he’s in pain. So, he just shrugs and makes his way past her, wincing when his shoes – also new – make contact with the sore skin on his Achilles tendon.

Tom knows she’s going to say something just by hearing her take a breath. “Tom, you’re in pain.”

He shakes his head. “Nope, I’m not.”

“You’re limping.”

“It’s the way I’m walking.” He doesn’t want to be mean, he really doesn’t. But she’s right, and she’s not supposed to be. She doesn’t know him anymore.

Okay, Tom admits, even if it’s just to himself. Beth doesn’t need to know him to find out he’s in pain. He’s an actor, yes, but not in his private time. Well, not with Beth. Never has been.

She snorts, and Tom rolls his eyes. He’s almost out of the door, though. “That’s totally not the way you’re normally walking.”

He stops, can’t help the thought rushing through his head – and then straight out of his mouth, because apparently his body is betraying him now. “Ah, you’ve been watching me, huh?”

He blushes in time with Beth, and while Tom tries to make his way out of the room – finally – she stutters, “What? No! I haven’t been watching you. I’ve fucking known you for more than 20 years of my life! I... I... oh, fuck off, I haven’t watched you walk. That’s just creepy, Tom. For fuck’s sake.”

Okay, he stops again, making himself wince once more, but this? This is too good. “Yeah, well. That made me believe you,” he smirks. Tom turns, ignoring the death glare shot his way. “Shit.” He’s sure his Achilles tendons are already blistering.

Tom hears the, “Oh, for fuck’s sake”, but he doesn’t even have time to ask what might be wrong with her now, before he’s dragged to the guest bathroom by his arm, wincing and limping all the way, protesting too, because damn it all, this really, really hurts.

“What the heck is wrong with your feet, Tom?” she asks after she’s made him sit on the toilet seat. He looks up at her, almost sheepishly, feeling like a little boy or young man again, who somehow forgot to do the laundry or bring all the items on the shopping list.

“Nothing,” he mumbles, but then laughs out loud at the exasperated look on Beth’s face. “I’ve got blisters, okay?” Seeing her raised brow Tom continues. “I’ve got new shoes, because apparently mine don’t work with the new trousers. But you shouldn’t see the socks in them. So, I didn’t put them on. I’m barefoot in new shoes, and it hurts. Happy now?”

“Oh, Tom.” She laughs at him, but shakes her head, and Tom is torn between feeling incredibly stupid and happy it’s out and he’s not the only one thinking this was a bad idea. Because he knows that laugh. It’s not meant to be mean, actually she’s already thinking of solutions. She can’t really help herself, it’s just the way she is. “I’ll get you some plasters for that. And please, please promise me you get some socks for those shoes.” Tom nods. He’s too stunned to do anything else. “Alternatively, I can just burn those trousers and say it was an accident,” she winks, “it’s not like I can get on Julia’s bad side any more than I already am.”

And with that she’s gone, leaving Tom to sit on that loo, preparing to take off his shoes. Huh. She’s probably right about that. But he’s not sure if he should feel the way he does about it.

***

Beth hasn’t stopped smiling and grinning since yesterday. She also can't stop shaking her head at Tom’s stupidity. He looked like a teenager in puberty. After a massive growth spurt of course, in love with the most popular girl in school – not that she can relate, she's never been that – who makes him wear the ‘cool’ clothes. He’s never been like that, though, not when Beth knew him anyway. Well, she sighs, people change, and Tom certainly did. But they’ve already established that, right? Right.

She looks around the room, her things packed and ready to be taken to the car. The weekend has been nice, as much as it could with people in it, you don’t want to spend your time with. At least she got to see Tom’s family. Anyway, she can't change it now, so why mourn the time she couldn’t spend with them without Julia running around the house. Or the beach. Or the town. Plus, it’s Sunday, she’s going home today, she won't have to see the two of them ever again, if she doesn’t want to. For real, this time.

Beth takes her bag downstairs with her, where Diana, Sarah and Emma are sitting together in the living-room with biscuits and tea. The men are outside at the playground with little Violet, having said goodbye to Beth earlier. As she looks outside the window and into the garden, she can see Julia pacing on the lawn, her phone pressed to her ear. She looks somewhat excited. Good for her, Beth supposes.

But Tom doesn’t. His hands are tight in his hair, gripping it. He’s frustrated, and he’s also trying to say something. He doesn’t, though. Huh. And then Julia hangs up and comes closer. Beth looks away when they start hugging. No need to watch that.

“Beth?”

“Huh?” She looks around the room. Diana and the girls are grinning at her.

“See anything you like?” Diana asks, pointing outside, her head tilted.

“Just checked.” Her cheeks feel hot, Beth just hopes she doesn’t resemble a tomato.

“Yeah,” Emma pipes up, her eyes glancing Tom’s way. Beth won't look. She won't. “They've been out there for quite some time now.”

Beth shrugs. “Well, maybe they’ve got some things to discuss. They do have to leave eventually, right? Go back to Los Angeles. Or New York. Or, wherever. Don’t they have some work to do?”

Now, the three women Beth loves do dearly are looking at her again. “I don’t know,” Sarah answers. “Do they? I haven’t seen my brother in six years, he sure as hell didn’t inform me about his schedule.”

“Sarah,” Diana admonishes, “he’s tried really well these past few days. Violet adores him.”

It’s clear to see Sarah – and Emma as well – wants to add something, but she can’t, because while they talked, Julia and Tom have made their way back into the house. Julia is looking all giddy, almost bouncing on her heels.

“We want to tell you something!”

Tom really, really doesn’t look like he wants to tell them anything, to be honest. And all of the sudden, Beth isn’t sure she wants them to tell anything, either. Maybe she can just leave very quietly?

“Julia,” he tries, “maybe not now?” He glances Beth’s way, and her suspicions are confirmed. A quick exit is out of the question now, though. Maybe she can drown them out? Or maybe make the ground swallow her.

“Especially now! Elizabeth is part of the plan after all.” Well, that just sounds like shit now.

“Nah,” she says. “I’m not sure I’m part of anything to be honest. Also, I really need to get on the road now. Busy week ahead of me. You wouldn’t believe how many women decided to have their babies next week. Pregnant ladies everywhere.” Emma squeezing her fingers and Tom’s wide eyes make Beth stop her rambling. Yeah, she knows, she knows, no need to rub it in, that was bad. So, she presses her lips together and watches the car crash in front of her happening quietly.

“We’ve just been on the phone with Brian and Judy,” Julia starts her explanation, “they’re our publicists by the way, and they thought it’d be a great idea to go with the flow now, so to speak. And we think it’d be great as well! People got so used to seeing us here in the UK. First in Oxford, then London, and now here. It really would be fitting.”

While Beth feels the heat rising in her body, her heart hammering in her chest, her moth going dry and Emma’s fingers gripping tighter, Diana speaks up. “Excuse me, but I think I speak for all of us, when I say that I don’t have any idea what you’re actually talking about.”

“We’re having our wedding in Oxford, of course!” Julia is grinning, Tom is definitely not.

***

Tagging (oops, please let me know if I used the right list, it’s been a while :D) @devikafernando @itsliterallythis @justthelosersblog @avenger-nerd-mom @archy3001 @nuggsmum @majk78 @hakimo2015 @noplacelikehome77 @theheartofpenelope @mrshiddleston-uk @nonsensicalobsessions @messy-insomniac-bookgirl @pipolaki

#polaroid picture #beth + tom #chapter 13 #tom hiddleston fanfiction #real person fanfiction

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ladyherenya · 4 years

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Books read in October

I read a paperback book for the first time in over three months months and was sharply aware that I couldn’t change anything about the way the text was displayed to make it more comfortable to read. I wondered, sadly, if I no longer like reading physical books.

Then I became engrossed in the story, and there were long stretches of time when I didn’t think about how I was reading a brick of printed paper. I turned pages as automatically and effortlessly as breathing. I think I was just out of practice.

This month’s Unintentional Colour Scheme: pink, purple and light blue.

Favourite covers: The Time-Traveling Popcorn Ball and The Other Side of the Sky.

Also read: “Good Neighbors” by Stephanie Burgis and Tiny House, Big Love by Olivia Dade. (And half a romance novel which I disliked and have no interest in remembering or reviewing.)

Reread: The last section of The Beckoning Hills by Ruth Elwin Harris. The middle section of Hunting by Andrea K. Höst.

Still reading: Between Silk and Cyanide by Leo Marks, and Angel Mage by Garth Nix.

Next up: The Switch by Beth O’Leary, and Hamster Princess: Little Red Rodent Hood by Ursula Vernon.

The Time-Traveling Popcorn Ball by Aster Glenn Gray: A magical story of time-travel and of friendship between eleven year old Piper, who has just moved into a new house, and Rosie, who lived in the same house fifty years earlier. It’s totally charming, and exactly the sort of story I adored growing up. Sometimes that makes me wish I could send a book back in time to my younger self, but I appreciated this book’s references to things that my younger self didn’t know about. I also appreciated how, even though I’ve read similar stories, I couldn’t predict how this one would end. That was very satisfying.

The Game of Kings by Dorothy Dunnett: In 1547, Francis Crawford, the Master of Lymond, wanted by the Scottish government for treason, is back in Edinburgh. The audiobook was the perfect way to experience this! The voices the narrator uses highlights clues in the text, about who’s speaking or the subtext and emotional tones of a conversation, which helped me to follow the story even when I felt confused about exactly what was going on. I enjoyed the Scottish accents, the clever wit, the ambiguity about Lymond’s plans and motives, and the way many characters are very intelligent, perceptive people. I was interested in the historical political intrigue. I loved the twists and revelations, which are brilliant -- incredibly clever and satisfying.

“Good Neighbors” by Stephanie Burgis: The first “fantasy rom-com” about a grumpy inventor who, along with her father, moves into a cottage nextdoor to a notorious necromancer in his big black castle. I wasn’t expecting to read about Mia stitching up undead minions, but appreciate that Burgis doesn’t take this opportunity to give glory details. This short story was fun and satisfying, and I am looking forward to when the rest of this series becomes (easily) available.

Lake of Sorrows by Erin Hart: After Haunted Ground, Dr Nora Gavin heads to the midlands west of Dublin to oversee the evacuation of another body discovered in a peat bog. The setting is fascinating and I like the atmosphere -- this has a strong sense of both place and mystery. However the multiple murders meant there’s more unpleasantness than I’d prefer. But it’s probably not enough to deter me from reading the next book.

The Dictionary of Lost Words by Pip Williams: Engrossing -- a poignant story of childhood during the late 19th century and womanhood in the early 20th century, and an absolutely fascinating insight into the decades-long process behind the first Oxford English Dictionary. Esme’s father is one of the lexicographers collecting and defining words for the Dictionary. Esme grows up with a fascination for words and begins to collect words that the Dictionary leaves out. I liked that Esme has people in her life who love and support her, but the ending is intensely sad. I’m not sure why that disappointed me. As an ending, it fits this story.

Taking Down Evelyn Tait by Poppy Nwosu: Australian YA. Lottie is furious that no one else seems to realise what Evelyn Tait, her nemesis (and stepsister) is like. Her best friend Grace is in love with Evelyn. Her teachers and her father tell Lottie she should emulate Evelyn. So Lottie decides that she’s going to do just that -- she’s going to be better than Miss Perfect. I thought this was a very realistic portrayal of a teenager’s relationships -- with family, with friends, with school and with herself. It’s amusing and, ultimately, believably positive. It captures Lottie’s perspective and her experiences in-the-moment so effectively and intensely.

Wired Love: a romance of dots and dashes by Ella Cheever Thayer (1888): Nattie, a telegraph operator who chats whenever she can “over the wire” with C., another telegraph operator miles down the line. I love stories where characters fall in love through exchanged messages. And the experiences of telegraph operators is absolutely fascinating -- simultaneously a product of the past and yet incredibly relatable from a contemporary perspective, because the internet and mobile phones mean we communicate so much through text. After Nattie and Clem meet, the focus shifts away from the telegraph office to antics at their boardinghouse, but the story continues to be fun and delightful.

Once Upon a Con series by Ashley Poston:

Geekerella: When Elle discovers her late parents’ cosplay costumes in a box in the attic, she hatches a plan to enter a cosplay competition and use the prize to escape her step-family. This contemporary Cinderella retelling about two teenage fans of a SF series Starfield is a romance-through-messages story. Elle uses her father’s old phone, so sometimes she gets messages from people about ExcelsiCon, the convention her father founded. One message sparks a conversation -- but neither she nor Darien realise just who they’re texting. As expected, this is fun and fandom-y, and it makes the coincidences and Cinderella moments feel believable.

The Princess and the Fangirl: At ExcelsiCon, Starfield actress Jessica Stone swaps places with a fan, Imogen. Jess needs to find a mislaid script before she’s accused of leaking it, and Imogen hopes for an opportunity to promote the #Save Amara initiative. I enjoyed how they both experience a different side of fandom. Imogen discovers the pressures of being a star, when con appearances are your job, and, away from the spotlight, Jess discovers how cons allow people to come together and celebrate things they love. My only disappointment was the way they both deceive Imogen’s fandom friend, Harper. I wish that had been handled differently.

The Little Bookshop at Herring Cove by Kellie Hailes: Unlike other books I’ve borrowed because they had “bookshop” in the title, this didn’t focus very much on books, nor did it describe its bookshop vividly. Sophie could have easily owned a different sort of shop without changing the plot, the setting or the atmosphere. This is a light-hearted romance about nice people in a generic seaside town -- not what I was looking for. I wanted more about books and a stronger sense of place.

Lilac Girls by Martha Hall Kelly (narrated by Cassandra Campbell, Kathleen Gati and Kathrin Kana): This begins with three different women at the start of WWII -- a teenager in Poland, a newly-graduated doctor in Germany and a wealthy consulate worker in New York -- and becomes about the Ravensbruck Rabbits, Polish political prisoners subjected to medical experimentation. Not what I expected or wanted to be reading (which is not its fault. I switched to the ebook, because I'm irrationally squeamish about some medical things and cope better when reading to myself). This story is compelling and does a good job of showing how the pain and trauma didn’t just end with the war. And it’s incredibly important to keep telling stories about distressing parts of history.

The Other Side of the Sky by Amie Kaufman and Meagan Spooner: More or less the sort of story I expected from these two. Nimh is the Divine One in a world of magic and prophecy. North is a prince in a floating city of science and engineering. Nimh believes the gods fled into the sky thousands of years ago, and North believes no one still lives down on the surface… until he crashes his glider. I enjoyed this but don’t feel any emotional investment -- yet. I will read the sequel.

Spoiler Alert by Olivia Dade: April and Marcus keep fandom separate from their professional lives -- April to avoid negative comments, Marcus (an actor) to avoid violating his contract. So when Marcus sees a cosplay photo of April online, he doesn’t recognise his friend, he just sees a gorgeous woman getting nasty comments and invites her to dinner. I was hooked. As a romance, this didn’t always focus on the things I most wanted it to, but I understood why it made those narrative choices and liked how the characters resolved their mistakes. And I really liked it as a story about fanfiction and the way we tell stories in response to other stories.

Big Love, Tiny House by Olivia Dade: Lucy goes on a Tiny House Hunting show and drags along her best friend Sebastian. I’ve watched countless tiny house videos on Youtube, so it was fun to see tiny houses depicted in fiction -- although I was disappointed that all the houses are so disastrously bad. Beyond that, I have no strong feelings one way or another about this romance novella.

Memento: an Illuminae Files novella by Amie Kaufman and Jay Kristoff (narrated by a full cast): A bonus prequel, set aboard the Alexander prior to the events of Illuminae. The audiobook is so well done! Even though this is a short story/novella, I cared about the new characters it introduces -- I really like the epistolary format and how it requires the reader to fill in some of the gaps for themselves. (I think that’s part of why I love The Illuminae Files but so far have no strong feelings about Kaufman and Kristoff’s latest series.) And it’s always interesting to see more of AIDAN.

#Herenya reviews books #Aster Glenn Gray #Dorothy Dunnett #Erin Hart #Pip Williams #Poppy Nwosu #Ella Cheever Thayer #Ashley Poston #Martha Hall Kelly #Amie Kaufman #Meagan Spooner #Jay Kristoff #Olivia Dade #Stephanie Burgis

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madeofsplinters · 3 years

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Playlist Notes: “Strike Me Down; I Am Unarmed”

Continuing my series - I’m gonna write “liner notes” for all my fic playlists eventually.

Listen along: [Spotify | YouTube]

Fic for this playlist is “Strike Me Down; I Am Unarmed” on AO3. If you haven’t read the fic, be aware this does not work as a general character playlist for Vader or Tarkin (or Daala, who also gets a few songs); it’s specifically a playlist describing the events of this particular AU fic.

Halestorm - The Reckoning

You made a mess outta me Where do I begin? You'll pay for your sins

We don't ever see Vader killing Palpatine onscreen in this story, but this story is all about Vader having killed Palpatine, so I couldn't resist starting with my favorite Revenge Song...

Billie Eilish - bellyache

My V is for Vendetta Thought that I'd feel better

The story actually begins with Vader waking up in his tank, beginning to recover from the injuries he sustained mid-revenge. His triumph hasn't fully sunk in, and he's confused, ill, and generally a mess. Wasn’t this big, dramatic revenge supposed to solve everything?

Billie Eilish - you should see me in a crown

Watch me make 'em bow One by one by one

It's a total gimme! It's on everyone and their dog's villain playlist already! Am I putting it on my villain playlist anyway? Heck YES. (In my original brainstorming notes for this story, when it talks about Tarkin having to wear Imperial robes now instead of his military uniform, it literally just says "you should see me in a crown dot gif")

Poppy - Fill the Crown

You can be anyone you want to be You can be free, you can be free

This is the song for the earlier chapters of the story, where Vader is blundering around trying to figure out how to be Emperor, while knowing in the back of his mind that Emperor and Sith Master is not actually what he wants to be. The sheer cognitive dissonance of this song is lovely - one voice promising a bright, happy future, much like Tarkin's optimistic view of what's in store for Vader now, while the other one meanders in and out promising atrocities and pain.

DIAMANTE - Sleepwalking

I feel you in my dreams You're everywhere, you won't go easily

Vader, dreaming of Palpatine's ghost.

laye - likefck

Wantin' you is evil When it's hard to have you here

This song is about the loneliness of a long-distance relationship with a wealthy, powerful, neglectful man. I heard it at just the right (wrong?) time, so now it's Daala's song, while she’s exiled to the Maw Cluster and waiting for a word from Tarkin. (But of course, in this fic, she isn't going to stay there...)

Icon For Hire - Supposed to Be

I fear now There's not much left of me When you take the sick away Who am I supposed to be?

The sheer dissonance of Vader trying to be Emperor inevitably leads to a mental breakdown. Now that Palpatine is gone, the natural impulse is to recover somehow from the things Palpatine did to him. But when evil and sickness are as thoroughly baked into someone's life as they are into Vader's, what does recovery even look like? Where do you begin?

Evanescence - Imperfection

I'm gonna save you from it Together we'll outrun it Just don't give into the fear

Tarkin comforting Vader during his mental breakdown, promising they'll fight the ghost that haunts him together. This song is probably too effusive and out of character for Tarkin but I just love it so much. (Spotify informs me that it was my #1 most-listened-to song during the hellyear of 2020.) That little growl on the "don't you dare surrender" in the last chorus. Fuck yes. Fave.

Beth Crowley - Empire

So fear me or love me It's all the same

This song was supposed to be about Game of Thrones, but too bad, it's mine now and it's Tarkin's song (as he sorts through Palpatine's effects and resolves to be an even better Emperor than his predecessor.)

Little Mix - Monster In Me

Why don't we kill each other slowly? What can I say? Baby, what can I do? The monster in me loves the monster in you

Most of these songs give a particular character's perspective at a particular time, but this one is the theme song of the whole, sad, evil polycule. <3

Halsey - Strange Love

And everybody wants to know 'bout how it felt to hear you scream They know you walk like you're a god, they can't believe I made you weak

This song works pretty well for Daala processing some thoughts about Tarkin, the secrecy and scandal and power imbalance of their relationship now that it's become something they can talk about in public, and what she does or doesn't owe to anyone involved.

DIAMANTE - Ghost Myself

If I could build a fire and burn down my life That would be the one thing I got right

Vader's suicidal ideation, set to a catchy beat. ("Ghost," used as a verb here, is already suppoesd to be a pun but considering the role of Palpatine's ghost in this story, it's now a triple entendre. Wheeee.)

In This Moment - The Beginning - Interlude

I am the moon and the sun that you bask in I am the name written on your grave

Just a creepy little overture as the characters approach Exegol and prepare to deal with whatever spooky Sith Ghost bullshit they find there. Vader’s ghost, whispering to him.

Delain - Masters of Destiny

I am the dreamer I roll the dice and I'm alive My hands aren't tied

This song and the next two make sort of a trio in my head, all intertwined with each other, all taking place at almost entirely the same moment, or at least in the same scene. In terms of what order Vader figures things out in the story, maybe it should go later; but in terms of making the trio work musically, when I listen to it in order, it goes first. This song is Vader feeling trapped by destiny and by the plans that have been made for him, only to finally realize he isn't trapped at all.

Beast In Black - Unlimited Sin

Swallowed by blind rage Once pure, now bloodstained Evil flows through your black veins

This is, obviously, The Palpatine Song. (UnLiMiTeD pOwEr!!111) It's goofy as fuck. It makes me giggle and bounce around. It almost doesn't belong in this playlist because of how goofy it is. But, even if Palps himself turns out to be really and truly dead, this is the part of the story where Vader comes face to face with his legacy and his impact on Vader's life. And I think the goofiness... sort of works, in a weird way. Even when he is rightfully dead and gone from the narrative, chances are good, Sheev Palpatine is still cackling at you.

In This Moment - Roots

I'm stronger than I ever knew I'm strong because of you

"Songs where women thank their abusers for toughening them up" is an entire genre and I have extremely mixed feelings about it, but In This Moment's approach is sufficiently ambivalent and angry that it works for me. This is Vader coming to terms with his feelings about Palpatine. He'll never not be someone who was shaped by what Palpatine did to him, even with Palpatine dead. But he can claim a strength and a freedom and even a defiance within that.

Lauren Jauregui - Invisible Chains

Keep running, on my way, I can see the light Got a hundred miles left and I'm feeling like I might stay alive

Closing credits. This is a song about working through trauma and mental illness and at last finding a glimmer of hope, and it's the soft little heart of this story. That last cry of "I already saved myself," like it's a revelation to the singer as well as the listener. God I just love it.

#fic playlist

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thanksforthedinosaur · 4 years

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international year of plant health

hi. i made a playlist of a snapshot of the stuff i’ve listened to this year if you’re looking for some recommendations! xoxo mae

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0VkfnggwpC1TEj2wsaHyZr?si=4JJd6Z-kRoCHuHypRtWK3g

1. little simz - might bang, might not 2. jean deaux - recipe! 3. logic - open mic\\aquarius iii 4. spittzwell - the lesson 5. ivy sole - kismet 6. vel the wonder - fine art 7. megan thee stallion - shots fired 8. kari faux - look at that 9. rico nasty - own it 10. flo milli - beef flomix 11. kodie shane - 2 many 12. kali uchis - ¡aquí yo mando! 13. tkay maidza - shook 14. bree runway - atm 15. yung baby tate - i am 16. almondmilkhunni - grapefruit 17. princess nokia - soul food y adobo 18. bosco - attention 19. kiana ledé - movin. 20. diamond white - secondhand 21. queen naija - i’m her 22. danileigh - mistreated 23. parisalexa - 2 optimistic 24. qveen herby - farewell 25. jhené aiko - p*$$y fairy (otw) 26. chloe x halle - forgive me 27. kehlani - water 28. umi - pretty girl hi! 29. rimon - i shine, u shine 30. disclosure - birthday 31. phora - cupid's curse 32. roy ayers - synchronize vibration 33. thundercat - unrequited love 34. thelonious coltrane - perfect timing 35. [ k s r ] - passion 36. alina baraz - more than enough 37. alayna - glowing 38. savannah cristina - self love 39. paloma ford - rain 40. nakala - she interlude ii 41. orion sun - lightning 42. jaz karis - hold you 43. cleo sol - when i'm in your arms 44. keiyaa - do yourself a favor 45. alicia keys - me x 7 46. yazmin lacey - morning matters 47. be steadwell - succulent 48. daniela andrade - k.l.f.g. 49. yung lean - dogboy 50. bladee - sun 51. blackwinterwells - algae 52. sullii - moonlight 53. misogi - heart chained 54. aminé - talk 55. tobi lou - lingo starr: drunken master 56. busta rhymes - look over your shoulder 57. 2 chainz - southside hov 58. atmosphere - the future is disgusting 59. meltycanon - moody blues 60. alfred. - sheeshfred 61. love-sadkid - ephemeral 62. jay squared - vision like you! 63. tuamie - you needed time you said 64. oatmello - blue 65. wun two - a noite 66. kuranes - calm 67. omaure - drama 68. dust and moonlight - sleeping or sinking 69. phlocalyst - image 70. ocha - r33 71. sugi.wa - love u 72. palm - memories of winter 73. goosetaf - tripwire 74. bryzone_ybp - the count 75. orancha - smoky banana 76. evil needle - midnight 77. eevee - romance 78. chief. - can't explain 79. ngyn - aerith 80. fujitsu - move on 81. meitei - nami 82. swum - breezy 83. chris mazuera - perspective 84. jinsang - maybe 85. tesk - cascades 86. saib - nautica 87. mf eistee - uprising 88. kaskade - when you’re dreaming 89. tatsuya maruyama - love you - lo-fi remix 90. towerz - before i gave in 91. baechulgi - abyss 92. underbelly - glitchwater 93. notsure - icecoffee 94. yutaka hirasaka - arise 95. akisai - ecossaise 96. nom tunes - missing piece 97. sweet dove - on the viewless wings 98. park bird - new place, same people 99. city girl - ji-eun's favorite 100. katie dey - loving 101. mary lattimore - sometimes he's in my dreams 102. teen daze - peaceful groove 103. pacific coliseum - turquoise 104. tycho - outer sunset 105. [.que] - glimmer 106. lights & motion - separated hearts 107. roger eno - celeste 108. talsounds - opening 109. alva noto - xerrox voyage 110. 36 - stasis sounds for long-distance space travel (stage 2) 111. stan forebee - bedscape 112. daniel avery - illusion of time 113. arbee - 2sum - charlie dreaming remix 114. okada takuro - waterfront (up-01) 115. gabriel ólafs - lóa - bing & ruth rework 116. warmth - the creek - mixed 117. rhucle - rev 118. com truise - surf 119. sarah davachi - still lives 120. gastón arévalo - sur les traces des explorateurs 121. peter bark - ascension 122. kara-lis coverdale - flutter 123. totally enormous extinct dinosaurs - brockley 124. green-house - peperomia seedling 125. four tet - green 126. morimoto naoki - aru 127. kaitlyn aurelia smith - remembering 128. dj python - te conocí 129. ocoeur - glow 130. christina vantzou - snow white 131. alonefold - strange rainbows 132. savoir adore - dancing temples 133. tengger - water 134. suzanne ciani - a sonic womb pt. 3 135. mogwai - major treat 136. this will destroy you - entrance 137. sleepmakeswaves - time wants a skeleton 138. elsa hewitt - rebird 139. ulla - i think my tears have become good 140. aether - she isn't here 141. zoe polanski - the last frontier 142. lyra pramuk - witness 143. ana roxanne - a study in vastness 144. julianna barwick - nod 145. the leaf library - about minerals 146. gia margaret - barely there 147. lucy gooch - my lights kiss your thoughts every moment 148. briana marela - forgiveness 149. loma - homing 150. mree - open arms 151. ellis - saturn return 152. alexia avina - fit into 153. fenne lily - to be a woman pt. 1 154. noble oak - evaporate 155. mint julep - blinded 156. rush week - best laid plans 157. mini trees - slip away 158. winter - bem no fundo 159. yumi zouma - cool for a second 160. laura veirs - burn too bright 161. terry vs. tori - keepsake box 162. castlebeat - shoulder 163. candace - still phase 164. tiny deaths - if i'm dreaming 165. lydia - heavy 166. caspian - nostalgist 167. nova one - lovable 168. corey flood - heaven or 169. hazel english - off my mind 170. bantug - dizzy 171. tops - colder & closer 172. the hidden shelf - miracles 173. ruru - 99 174. widowspeak - even true love 175. cheerleader - providence 176. wild nothing - blue wings 177. deradoorian - corsican shores 178. strfkr - second hand 179. mint field - contingencia 180. ringo deathstarr - god help the one's you love 181. no joy - dream rats 182. white poppy - orchid child 183. keeps - swiggum 184. flung - firstly zested 185. the bilinda butchers - rie 186. sipper - kid 187. radiator hospital - imposter syndrome 188. addy - equinox 189. boyo - dogma 190. alexandra savior - the archer 191. phoebe bridgers - chinese satellite 192. soccer mommy - circle the drain 193. routine - numb enough 194. quarter-life crisis - comfortable 195. madeline kenney - sucker 196. layne - linnea 197. wilsen - align 198. pynkie - you 199. bandanna - ghost home 200. waxahatchee - can’t do much 201. crisman - portrait 202. liza anne - i wanna be there 203. purr - gates of cool 204. honey cutt - hung up on me 205. the beths - out of sight 206. the ophelias - grand canyon 207. sjowgren - flip phones 208. haim - gasoline 209. thanya iyer - i forget to drink water (balance) 210. sad13 - good grief 211. porridge radio - give/take 212. lannds - not in a good way 213. katie von schleicher - wheel 214. hey cowboy! - detective farmer brown 215. tombo crush - pink 216. eliza moon - tell me / why'd you 217. anna mcclellan - raisin 218. this is the kit - this is what you did 219. snarls - walk in the woods 220. blushh - deal with it 221. long neck - cicada 222. chloe moriondo - ghost adventure spirit orb 223. momma - biohazard 224. varsity - runaway 225. land of talk - footnotes 226. bully - stuck in your head 227. diet cig - stare into the sun 228. expert timing - gravity 229. slow pulp - track 230. maddie jay - shakes 231. beabadoobee - together 232. luna aura - crash dive 233. sorry - perfect 234. torres - good grief 235. partner - honey 236. beauty queen - this time around 237. maggie lindemann - knife under my pillow 238. bryde - paper cups 239. mundy's bay - sleep away the summer 240. squirrel flower - red shoulder 241. mourn - stay there 242. dream wife - so when you gonna... 243. illuminati hotties - superiority complex (big noise) 244. l.a. witch - true believers 245. hinds - burn 246. beach bunny - cuffing season 247. suzie true - idk u 248. bacchae - hammer 249. peach kelli pop - stupid girl 250. oceanator - heartbeat 251. pins - read my lips 252. best coast - different light 253. muncie girls - take steps 254. kailee morgue - this is why i'm hot 255. beach slang - let it ride 256. silverstein - take what you give 257. new found glory - scarier than jason voorhees at a campfire 258. the lawrence arms - quiet storm 259. mikey erg - bon voyage 260. pet symmetry - had a name, don't remember it 261. thank you, i'm sorry - backpack life 262. ratboys - alien with a sleep mask on 263. joyce manor - leather jacket 264. jeff rosenstock - scram! 265. the aquabats! - aliens and monsters! 266. the used - the lighthouse 267. hidden hospitals - how amazing 268. dikembe - all got sick 269. time spent driving - trust no 1 270. the casket lottery - more blood 271. record setter - someplace 272. emma ruth rundle - out of existence 273. gulfer - blurry 274. options - don't mind 275. i love your lifestyle - stupid 276. orchards - stealing your sleep 277. no tongues for quiet people - lake house lake house 278. into it. over it. - hollow halos 279. mountains for clouds - full disclosure 280. joan of arc - destiny revision 281. no thank you - saturn return 282. the front bottoms - camouflage 283. ride your bike - make like a tom and cruise 284. dragon inn 3 - yer brothers 285. the goalie’s anxiety at the penalty kick - jars filled with rain 286. mansions - laser beams 287. waveform* - hello goodbye 288. owen - headphoned 289. cassino - tacoma 290. ajj - normalization blues 291. penelope scott - sweet hibiscus tea 292. angel olsen - (new love) cassette 293. trace mountains - fallin' rain 294. johanna warren - part of it 295. frances quinlan - lean 296. tomberlin - hours 297. samia - triptych 298. field medic - better way 299. adrianne lenker - my angel 300. jack m. senff - another day 301. lomelda - polyurethane 302. rosie carney - high and dry 303. brigid mae power - i had to keep my circle small 304. overcoats - new shoes 305. anna burch - not so bad 306. hop along, queen ansleis - the cactus 307. mandy moore - easy target 308. laura marling - held down 309. lisa loeb - doesn't it feel good 310. trixie mattel - gold 311. lilly hiatt - move 312. molly tuttle - sunflower, vol. 6 313. sarah jarosz - pay it no mind 314. katie heckel - help you mend 315. katie pruitt - my mind’s a ship (that’s going down) 316. in love with a ghost - trans rights 317. snail's house - imaginary express 318. isuka hino - dreamin' adventure!! 319. 4s4ki - nexus 320. lapix - loneliness 321. you - painter 322. aice room - dreary planet - yukiyanagi remix 323. zekk - oxygen 324. lu-i - loved happiness 325. synthion - volt switch 326. sanaas - polestar - junk remix 327. mameyudoufu - fluffy 328. awfuless - redemption 329. rejection - around you 330. toriena - getting into a pose 331. cosmo@bousoup - mow*mow*abduction!!! 332. yunosuke - ziqqurat 333. android52 - lovin', scratchin' 334. サクラsakura-lee - nobody else 335. desired - emotions 336. mikazuki bigwave - sakimashita bloomin'!! 337. skule toyama - smooth 338. adrianwave - goodbye 339. macross 82-99 - melt 340. cape coral - 707 hotline 341. 80kidz - heat 342. night tempo - baby 343. yaffle - lng, before 344. greyl - let me be with you 345. serph - palmtop tiger 346. happy kuru kuru - natsu no hi no labyrinth 347. couple n - earmie 348. airuei - magic sign 349. somunia - non player girl - nyankobrq 2p ver. 350. cosmicosmo - those that we once loved 351. maeshima soshi - the terminal 352. kijibato - 1room 353. yuc'e - ghost town 354. neko hacker - erased 355. jam2go - apotrope 356. mizuki ohkawa - cosmic cleft 357. singto conley - flora 358. 2tonedisco - shoelaces 359. cy8er - もしもしじゃぽん 360. nayuta - connect 361. t+pazolite - himitsu cult 362. milkoi - higher, higher, and then... 363. freezer - caramel rain (sanaas remix) 364. kotonohouse - pitter, patter 365. aika - superstar 366. yukiyanagi - love overdose 367. nanahira - twinkle password 368. ducky - hyper bloxxd 369. porter robinson - something comforting 370. moshimo - シンクロ 371. bish - スーパーヒーローミュージック 372. scenarioart - it's all right 373. base ball bear - ポラリス(c3 mix) 374. majiko - エスカルゴ 375. akaiko-en - ジャンキー 376. the peggies - weekend 377. lovely summer chan - more light 378. polkadot stingray - sp813 379. shishamo - フェイバリットボーイ 380. aimer - run riot 381. österreich - i'll take you everywhere 382. sora tob sakana - 夜間飛行 383. the shes gone - ふためぼれ 384. aimyon - marshmallow 385. cö shu nie - supercell 386. kensei ogata - violin case 387. せだい - yellownola 388. yonige - あかるいみらい 389. bearwear - i think 390. hitsujibungaku - ロックスター 391. cidergirl - 飛行船 392. room97 - faq 393. she's - ugly 394. bbhf - tokenai mahou 395. alisa takigawa - 夢 396. satomoka - glints 397. radwimps - shinsekai 398. pinoko - コリドー街 399. helsinki lambda club - you are my gravity 400. lucky kilimanjaro - 君とつづく 401. dish// - sauna song 402. zombie-chang - snooze 403. mizuki ohira - 無重力 404. みゆな - 歌おうよ 405. iri - come back to my city 406. aya a.k.a panda - i miss u 407. chelmico - disco (bad dance doesn't matter) 408. seiko oomori - 絶対彼女 409. yaeji - my imagination 상상 410. daoko - zukizuki 411. eill - night d 412. cifika - déjà vu 413. yeye - step in time 414. saevom - just like i dreamed then 415. cheeze - today's mood 416. stella jang - reality blue 417. younha - one day of twenty 418. jeong eun ji - whoo 419. fromm - aliens 420. crush - tip toe 421. heize - 1/1440 422. femm - level up 423. awich - poison 424. jessi - nunu nana 425. (g)i-dle - luv u 426. summer soul - tinder 427. taeyeon - worry free love 428. boa - l.o.v.e 429. fromis_9 - feel good (secret code) 430. faky - re:chase me 431. monsta x - night view 432. twice - up no more 433. loona - hide & seek 434. wjsn - pantomime 435. iz*one - fiesta 436. exid - ddd jpn ver. 437. gfriend - crème brûlée 438. april - lalalilala 439. weki meki - 100 facts (cool eng. ver.) 440. momoland - starry night 441. steve aoki - play it cool 442. bts - dynamite 443. sakurako ohara - shine on me 444. sumin - zaza♡ 445. onepixcel - lagrima 446. little glee monster - i feel the light 447. celeina ann - purikura 448. アイラヴミー - そのまんま勇者 449. okkyung lee - here we are (once again) 450. luca - lune 451. hakushi hasegawa - hikari no rock 452. haruka nakamura - your sonnet 453. itoko toma - shade 454. rina katahira - hoshizora* 455. ichiko aoba - easter lily 456. satoko shibata - 変な島 457. 角銅真実 - 6月の窓 458. 熊川みゆ - sixteen 459. 眉村ちあき - 緑のハイヒール 460. 竹内アンナ - striking gold 461. saucy dog - film 462. kaede - -ending- night blue 463. aseul - paradise 464. 박혜진 park hye jin - like this 465. charlotte is mine - road movie 466. plastic plastic - ฮัม - (hum) 467. clams - shiny rider 468. seventeen years old and berlin wall - no paradise 469. nuit - nightbirds 470. fulusu - ghost 471. rammells - sennengo 472. stargaze shelter - emulation (mode:totonee) 473. ヨルシカ - 昼鳶 474. nakamuraemi - 大人の言うことを聞け 475. kenshi yonezu - ひまわり 476. tk from ling tosite sigure - reframe 477. penguinrush - 色彩 478. lee jin ah - candy pianist 479. mei ehara - どちらにピントを 480. jizue - because 481. mouse on the keys - room 482. fox capture plan - stand my heroes - groove version 483. ryutist - girls 484. yeti let you notice - bouquet 485. tricot - 真っ黒 486. madison cunningham - giraffe 487. covet - atreyu 488. floral - maybe not one day 489. envy - eternal memories and reincarnation 490. baths - mikaela corridor 491. sufjan stevens - run away with me 492. fractures - feel 493. the 1975 - frail state of mind 494. dan mason ダン·メイソン - everytime i cry 495. brothertiger - cannonball 496. porches - rangerover - bonus track 497. tame impala - instant destiny 498. washed out - paralyzed 499. pink skies - portland 500. so below - bone 501. purity ring - silkspun 502. llll - breathless 503. slow magic - somewhere 504. kasbo - lune 505. cloudnone - let the music in 506. jody wisternoff - blue space 507. drama - hold on 508. satin jackets - meridian getaway 509. direct - opal 510. lane 8 - road 511. baile - jlm 512. yuni wa - starships 513. nora van elken - sakura 514. geotheory - the day i left you 515. yota - hazy paradise 516. spencer brown - chance on us 517. the avener - conscious shadows 518. kalbells - mothertime 519. bella boo - in love 520. kirara magic - neon 521. mija - digressions 522. cuushe - emergence 523. transviolet - rituals 524. keep shelly in athens - steady to go 525. young ejecta - ah ha 526. annie - in heaven 527. lany - good guys 528. dominic pierce - glad xoxo 529. tender - what you're missing 530. alice jemima - binge love you 531. kitty - baby pink 532. faye meana - like honey 533. lunadira - am i gonna die? 534. loony - white lie 535. justine skye - fav 536. wafia - good things 537. victoria monét - jaguar 538. malia civetz - love thing 539. keiynan lonsdale - i confess my love 540. deaton chris anthony - tuethday 541. kallitechnis - body&soul (ish d remix) 542. talitha. - ineedsomeone 543. keke palmer - thick 544. kesha - birthday suit 545. l.e.j - pas l'time 546. selena gomez - rare 547. the aces - daydream 548. jessie ware - mirage (don’t stop) 549. joan - try again 550. melanie c - blame it on me 551. astrid s - dance dance dance 552. little mix - holiday 553. justin bieber - yummy 554. ariana grande - positions 555. bea miller - feel something different 556. lady gaga - rain on me (with ariana grande) 557. raye - regardless 558. the weeknd - hardest to love 559. andrea valle - lovergirl 560. k/da - the baddest 561. allie x - susie save your love 562. terror jr - dinner plate 563. shawn wasabi - halo halo 564. benee - snail 565. sevdaliza - oh my god 566. gupi - modest 567. six impala - sweetsweetsweetlikebubblegum 568. charli xcx - i finally understand 569. golin - hanakotoba 570. shygirl - freak 571. madge - ethanol 572. arca - afterwards 573. kelly lee owens - re-wild 574. ari mason - pangaea 575. gabrielle aplin - dear happy 576. taylor swift - the 1 577. awfultune - buds 578. sneaks - scorpio on your side 579. izzy camina - kill your local indie softboy 580. mxmtoon - ok on your own 581. wens - giant bat 582. billie eilish - my future 583. tash - when you leave 584. fletcher - the one 585. silver sphere - ghosts! 586. tei shi - ok crazy 587. dounia - sucked all the fun 588. tatiana hazel - carmen sandiego 589. magdalena bay - killshot 590. kllo - insomnia 591. leisure suite - closer 592. morgan saint - i dreamt that i knew you 593. ayelle - got love 594. michi - escondida 595. lyrica anderson - lyfted 596. sasha sloan - lie 597. niki - plot twist 598. sarah reeves - heart first 599. salt cathedral - caviar 600. chelsea cutler - sad tonight 601. rituals of mine - heights 602. e^st - flight path 603. sara diamond - great together 604. phem - stfu 605. carlie hanson - daze inn 606. lauren aquilina - latest ghost 607. caroline rose - command z 608. misterwives - oxygen 609. ella vos - turbulence 610. austra - i am not waiting 611. triathalon - you 612. phoebe ryan - icimy 613. katzù oso - kiss u better 614. luwten - control 615. raveena - heartbeat 616. oohyo - 2020 617. oklou - another night 618. jouska - bring you back 619. fleur east - easy to love 620. soft glas - overbite 621. jaden - muted sunrise 622. snny - better to leave it 623. saint mela - alkaseltzer 624. mia gladstone - ego 625. helena deland - truth nugget 626. oh wonder - oceansize 627. steven padin - sashimi 628. kacey johansing - i try 629. treasureseason - spinning plate 630. landshapes - drama 631. tennis - matrimony ii 632. pomplamoose - morning waterbug 633. soko - being sad is not a crime 634. the big moon - barcelona 635. shamir - diet 636. knox fortune - static 637. carly rae jepsen - let's sort the whole thing out 638. real estate - the main thing 639. hayley williams - roses/lotus/violet/iris 640. nada surf - something i should do 641. bombay bicycle club - is it real 642. the seshen - faster than before 643. thao & the get down stay down - how could i 644. marla hansen - path 645. christine and the queens - la vita nuova 646. half waif - siren 647. malena zavala - ritmo de vida 648. bendik - himmelen 649. hanna järver - kalmar slott 650. frida sundemo - anything 651. kate nv - telefon 652. ambar lucid - questioning my mind 653. coco reilly - mirror 654. ghostly kisses - lydian 655. kacy hill - told me 656. lianne la havas - can't fight 657. donna missal - how does it feel 658. felivand - gone 659. jordana - divine 660. empress of - void 661. banoffee - ripe 662. vanessa carlton - i can't stay the same 663. fiona apple - heavy balloon 664. poppy - concrete 665. rina sawayama - stfu!

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twdmusicboxmystery · 5 years

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FTWD 5x12: Ner Tamid - Analysis

Wow! This episode had so much in it! You know how sometimes I don't go over the minute details in the background because I feel like you guys already know them and they only serve to illustrate parallel? This was kind of the opposite. I will talk about the major parallels I saw, but the amount of small details was mind blowing and I think they're important.

***As always, spoilers abound for episode 5x12 below. Don't read until you’ve watched.***

We start with the image of the fire burning. It's a rope that's being lit by a match. We also see a chalice that has a Star of David on it. This is a rabbi in a mosque who is observing some Jewish worship. The first thing this reminded me of is the altar that Morgan built in Coda.

Of course, the rabbi’s sermon gets interrupted by walkers. I thought it was interesting that he put on a jacket. After all, it didn't look particularly cold outside.

They had him stop and put on a black jacket for no apparent reason. He was wearing a black jacket over a white shirt, so suddenly he was wearing black and white.

While outside, he sees a car with three walkers trying to get into it. My first thought was that there must be someone in it, and there was. He took down the first two walkers without too much trouble, but the third one ended up on top of him. Then the car door opens and Charlie steps out.

Okay, so many interesting clues in this sequence. We have the altar from Coda, the Star of David, the black and white colors, and the fact that there's a girl alive in the back of the car with walkers surrounding her.

Naturally, my first thought was that maybe Charlie is meant to be a proxy for Beth here. I think she is, and I've wondered before if maybe she's meant to be. There hasn't been anything super huge pointing to her being a Beth proxy thus far, but remember that she shot Nick. And it's not like Beth shot any main characters before she disappeared or anything, but even so, I thought there might be something to that. Ever since Charlie appeared, she's been sort of a background character. She's always around but they haven't spent a lot of time on her characterization. I thought maybe they were holding her in reserve for something. Given her role in this episode, she's definitely starting to look like a proxy.

The rabbi introduces himself Rabbi Jacob Kessner and says the mosque is called Temple B’nai Israel. Charlie says she saw the light in his church, and that's what drew her toward him. He tells her it's not a light. It's Ner Tamid (title of episode). It's the flame of truth or of God and God lead her to him. Then, it looks like the light is flickering and about to go out and he says that flame of truth needs new batteries.

Holy TD symbolism, Batman! First of all, Battery Theory. And there's a big emphasis on batteries throughout this episode. Of course, all that started at Grady because we saw so many batteries that were dying. Also remember that Norman said that Beth was Daryl's light in the darkness and to see that light go out was very sad. Now, in this episode, we have an emphasis on a perpetually burning light that's never supposed to go out. Sounds like a Beth parallel to me.

Another interesting detail: the rabbi keeps referring to God as a “she.” At first, I thought maybe he was referring to the flame as a “she.” And maybe he was. But he did it more than once. I can tell you that’s a little weird. A very traditional Jewish rabbi, as this guy seems to have been, would not think of God as a woman. The god of the Old Testament, whom they worship, is and was always male. So why would he do this? Whether he’s meant to be referring to God or the flame, it feels like a hint from the writers about who the flame or Christ figure in the show is, you know?

Back with Sarah, Dwight, and the rest of the group, we see the armored truck roll over a walker’s head.

After that, the rest of the cars in the convoy also went over the walker and smash it to bits. It just reminded me of Consumed. When Daryl and Carol were following the cop car into Atlanta to look for Beth, we very obviously saw them smash a walker head in the same way.

When the convoy stops to set up camp, they use rolls of chain-link to guard against walkers. It just reminded me of the prison. We also saw Charlie and the rabbi killing walkers on the fence around his synagogue. So lots of callbacks to the prison.

When the caravan stops to rest, they us a circular setup for their camp with the tanker in the center. It's a smart way to set up camp against walkers and other enemies, but the circle is also interesting. A couple of things I think this could be.

We’ve talked before about how Morgan’s symbol of the X inside the circle, which we saw in Coda, could possibly be a lamp sign or the symbol for the positive charge of the battery, which is also often symbolized by an X or cross inside a circle. This looks at the negative charge the battery. The minus sign inside a circle. And given that there's a big emphasis on batteries here, I think that's interesting. I may be developing more of a theory about this, but I'll leave it for another time.

Charlie refers to the Light of Truth a lamp once or twice. Which, to be fair, it is. It’s not an actual flame, but rather a light, which can be plugged into a batter, in the shape of a flame. So it works in a literal sense. But also, Lamp Theory.

The other thing I couldn't help but think of is that when we first met the hipsters (Jadis’s people), they encircled Rick's group and we got a bird’s eye shot of them in a circle. I think this is probably part of that same symbolism.

We heard a few 8s in this episode. When talking about going to get gas, Sarah said it would be “tank town at 0800,” which was her way of saying they were going to get gas at eight. Of course they didn't, because they realized Charlie was missing.

Then the rabbi said it took him eight years at Yeshiva to understand what Charlie had already figured out. I looked it up and Yeshiva is a Jewish university. I’m really side-eyeing that. He’s referencing 8 years of education. Remember that there was an 8 beside Beth in Tyreese’s death hallucination and now we’re 8 years post-Coda.

The Rabbi was talking about how God had led her to him and he said, "maybe there's something you need here." So, more of the “something you need” theme.

It occurred to me that the inside of the synagogue looked a little bit like Ezekiel's theater in the kingdom. Because it’s q synagogue with pews, it also naturally looks a little bit like Father Gabriel's church. And of course there’s the church Glenn and Enid went into in 6a.

The rabbi also explained the resurrection in a way that had a very strong parallel to what Herschel told Rick in S2. While on the highway in the finale, waiting for the others to find them, Herschel said he'd always believed in the resurrection of the dead, but what was going on with the walkers wasn't exactly what he had in mind. The rabbi said something very similar. That he used to tell his congregation that eventually the dead would reunite with their bodies and be resurrected, but he thought he only got it halfway right. So, a major call back to Herschel and S2.

He also said tradition was very important. This is definitely true from what I understand of Jewish culture. They're very ardent about their traditions. I also took it to perhaps be a line the writers might be aiming toward us and the symbolism in general. As if to say that precedent in the show is very important.

We had more emphasis on the battery because he was on his last battery and it started to go out. In order to keep the lights going, he needed to find new batteries. Definitely feels like a theme to me. Obviously, the light equals hope and you need batteries, apparently, to keep that hope burning. These are all things we saw heavily around Beth and Grady.

The rabbi goes to another building and finds that it's full of walkers, who are escaping. My first thought upon seeing building is that it looked like a lot like the school from S5. The same school the Termites camped out in front of. Many of Father Gabriel's congregation (as walkers) were in it, which is why he broke out of his church in Coda and went there. It was in that scene that we saw him look at a bible and one of the pages said Bethel on it.

So this rabbi definitely has heavy parallels to Father Gabriel in S5. He is alone in his synagogue and his congregation is dead. They been imprisoned in a building some distance away from his church.

When he goes looking for them, there's a circular driveway in front of the building. So that circle theme appears again. We also see red flowers. I'm thinking the red flowers, just like the color red, equals death. I was reminded of the poem, In Flanders Fields, which is a famous poem about red poppies growing where men in war died. Just goes to show that his congregation was dead, even though they hadn't revealed that to us yet in the show.

Upon seeing this, my first question was whether the rabbi locked his congregation in there, just as Gabriel locked his congregation out. We don’t find out what happened until about three quarters of the way through the episode. This rabbi didn't have as much culpability as FG did. He didn't actively sentence his congregation to death. We do find out that he was having a crisis of faith — much like FG in S5 — and that he abandoned his flock to go try and figure out his own psychological crisis.

When he returned, they’d been locked in that building already. So, he abandoned them and then they died. But he did not orchestrate their deaths in quite the same way FG did with his flock. Still, the parallels are there.

I think this is important is because 1) We saw this around FG in S5 while Grady was happening. So even though Beth never met FG, it was definitely happening around her storyline. And 2) FG is now a walking embodiment of Sirius symbolism.

John and June come to pick up Charlie and the bring a battery for the rabbi. They emphasized the number 36 by having June say there were 36 people in the convoy. The rabbi then said that some people believe there were 36 righteous people in the world at any given time. There are a few ways you could read this. 6x03 is Glenn’s death fake out episode. 3x06 doesn’t especially stand out to me. Series number 36 was 4x01. You know, where Beth came front and center?

Meanwhile, back at camp, Sarah and Dwight sit atop a trailer, keeping watch together and drinking beer. Dwight says the beer is pretty good, and Sarah says, "Seriously?" There’s the Sirius reference for this episode. Pretty much every episode of this season has had one.

The two of them have a casual conversation, but I found it kind of interesting. Sarah asked Dwight how long he'd been on his own, and he didn’t know. He said he lost track of time. So, he doesn't even know how long he's been gone from DC. Interesting, as they’re kind of playing with time again. Then Sarah says, "but your gal kept going, the idea of her?" Definitely something that could be applied to Daryl. Dwight answered that the walkers kept him going too. He said he used to watch them, wandering who knows how far, not knowing where they'd come from and where they were going. Just a lot of things about traveling long distances and being on journeys that I feel it could apply to Beth.

Meanwhile, Dwight keeps looking through blue binoculars. So there's that pesky blue color again and the binoculars theme. He’s also sitting on a blue cooler (@frangipanilove’s blue coolers theories) and there is a red/green diamond pattern on his shirt (Beth = Queen of Diamonds).

Back in the synagogue, we also find out the rabbi makes his own wine. He says he has a “green thumb.” Of course, the wine he makes is probably much different than moonshine, but the concept is the same. He's making his own booze.

While John and June are there, the rest of the rabbi’s congregation break out of the building through the glass (Breaking Glass Theory) and the synagogue is suddenly surrounded by walkers.

Then we have some ladders! After posting my ladder theory this last week, I was excited to see this. They were trying to find a way down to go help the convoy because Logan's people had found them and they were on the run. John uses a ladder and slams it into a car windshield, breaking it. He and June descend and use the ladder as a bridge between cars to try to get across the lot without actually having to walk among the walkers or kill them. Think about that. They’re using LADDERS as BRIDGES across CARS to get through a WALKER HORDE.

They nearly make it, but in the final leg of their journey, one of the fences falls — not unlike the church falling in 6x07 and letting walkers into Alexandria, and they know they can’t make it out.

Charlie had one of Beth's lines here. Yet another way to show that she's a Beth proxy. When the rabbi tells her that it's okay, she says, "It's not okay, it's not okay." Beth said that twice a Grady as well. In fact, it was one of the last things she said before being shot, in reference to Noah staying behind.

John also used the phrase “exhibit A." He’s talking about how she wasn’t necessarily wrong to do what she did. She kept them all moving to avoid exactly the situation they were in: surrounded by walkers and trapped on top of a car. He says their “current circumstances are exhibit A.” So this is the A theory. I have more to say about this, but just keep it in mind for today.

In order to save John and June, who were then trapped into the car, and get all them out of there, the rabbi blew a horn—a Jewish horn called a shofar—to lure the walkers into the church.

A couple of things about this. 1) The home is not unlike the wolf horn blown in 6x02, which also led the walker horde toward it, and led to Glenn’s death fake out sequence. 2) What follows in this episode is exactly what happened with Father Gabriel’s church in Coda. They lure the walkers into the synagogue and then trap them inside by barring the front doors.

It works, but the church/synagogue are lost. And once again, the last time we saw this was in CODA.

By the way, a shofar is made from the horn of a ram. We saw a ram one very prominent time before: in 5b when Aaron and Daryl were trying to capture buttons, Aaron tripped over one and nearly got bitten by a walker. So it’s a symbol they’ve used before.

In the end, the battery dies, the light goes out, and the Rabbi goes with them.

Meanwhile, Logan’s men chase Sarah and Dwight and the convoy for quite a while. Once they have them cornered (Sarah’s truck runs out of gas) they just drive away. It seems, at first, because Logan’s guys saw John and June in Al’s SWAT truck coming to the rescue, but Dwight still thinks it’s weird. He says these guys don’t do anything unless it’s on purpose. (Clue about the symbols in the show perhaps?)

Turns out, Dwight’s a smart dude when he wants to be. Somehow, probably from watching the Al’s tapes that he took from the vault last episode, he’s figured out where the oil fields are. He purposely had his guys chase Dwight’s group away so he could go steal the oil without them trying to stop him. The episode ends with him arriving at a place called Lonesome Quarry, where apparently the oil is.

That’s super interesting to me. I need to think on this some more and maybe I’ll address it again later on, but it’s interesting that it’s a quarry. That actually gave me a bit of a lightbulb moment. I started thinking about the quart from 6a. The group started Operation Lead the Walkers Away from there in 6x01 and it led to Glenn’s death fake out in 6x03. If you recall, there were even semis and tanker trucks in that quarry. The operation started a day early because on of them fell off a ledge, which allowed the walkers a way out of the quarry, so they had to start the operation earlier than expected.

So I’m wondering if that was a foreshadow to this, or if they’re at least purposely paralleling the two. Remember there was a death fake out involved in that. Both the beginning of a death fake out, and the end where Glenn was revealed to be alive. So I’m very curious to see where this will go.

Looking at the trailer for next week’s episode, where Logan will obviously make a play for the oil, there are things that look a LOT like 6a. Like this.

It’s Logan, probably running from Sarah in her truck. But it just LOOKS a lot like Rich running during 6a.

And then we see people approaching on horseback.

No idea who they are as the picture is intentionally blurry in the trailer, but probably new characters. Helicopter people? Highwaymen? Also reminds me of the horse from the TWD S10 trailer.

So again, no idea who it is, but I’m excited to find out.

So what are my major takeaways from this episode? We saw a lot of callbacks to the prison and to Father Gabriel’s story line in particular. Those are things that were happening in S4/S5 around Beth. Another religious dude with a crisis of faith. Losing his synagogue, like losing FG’s church, along with the alter, were both specifically seen in Coda.

Then there’s the eternal light and it’s ties to Beth, and the fact that the rabbi keeps referring to it and/or God as “she.” And finally, something big will probably go down over this fight for the oil. So a good episode. Leaves us with lots of questions, but I enjoyed it.

I’ll stop there for today. I have a lot more to say. Not about the episode specifically (a few things about it, though) but a lot of what I saw here symbolically made me start thinking or rethinking some of our theories. I suppose I just have some musings about where this may be going and how things might connect. So, pretty much predictions post. I’ll post more thoughts throughout the coming week. How did everyone else like this episode?

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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galadrieljones · 6 years

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A Funeral: Chapter 6

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2 | Pairing: Arthur x Mary Beth | Rating: Mature

Content: Existential Angst, Friendship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Nature, Touch-Starved, Humor, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Angst, Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Fake Marriage, Epiphanies, Backstory, Banter, Deep Emotions

Summary: To help her process Sean’s death, Mary Beth asks Arthur to take her on a hunting trip, somewhere far away. He agrees, and on their little journey together, they find quietude and take comfort in their easy bond. In their desperate search for meaning together, they endure a number of small trials, which bring them closer to one another as well as to the future, and to the unchecked plights of the natural world.

**Chapter-specific Content Warning: distant reference toward sexual violence

Masterpost | AO3

Thanks @bearly-tolerable for the banner!! ^_^

Chapter 6: A Couple Busted Umbrellas

The dream he’d had at the Winterson's B&B was not a good one. You know, there is this abandoned homestead in Scarlet Meadows? Not far from Rhodes, and outside that homestead there are two little crosses set up on either side of a big, pretty tree. It is familiar. Arthur stumbled upon it once while out hunting whitetail for camp, not too long ago, and in doing so, he remembered all the bad things that had ever happened to him. The little crosses and all of their lonely passion dredged up a layer of guilt from so deep inside that his vision went white and he nearly stumbled into his horse. The guilt was covered in barbed wire. It hurt a lot to swallow it back down again, but he did it anyway and then he went back to camp with a dead deer for Pierson, and it was twilight and Dutch sat, consumed in his own neurosis with his head in his hands. Nobody else really knew about Eliza except for Dutch, Hosea, John, and Abigail. Arthur went to his bed that night and he went right to sleep, very early.

Arthur didn’t dream of the two little crosses that first night with Mary Beth. He didn’t even dream of Eliza. He only dreamed of the polar bear—climbing again out of that polar bear skin and seeing the world burnt around him and wondering where it was everyone had gone to, everyone he ever cared for. It woke him up, and when he woke up, he sat up, and the barbed wire had unfurled and ensconced him in its horrible pain so deep he got to thinking it was happiness. What else could be so all-consuming without causing death? He rightly had not known before. But it wasn’t Mary this time—nagging him, this petty pain just below the surface. No. It was much too deep for that. He felt twenty-five again, in that moment, sleeping in a soft bed next to his pregnant girlfriend who he had made that way. How he loved her. Like he had never loved anything—no man or woman or child could come close to the desire he had to keep her safe. She was the love that came first, that preceded all. And when Mary Beth touched his shoulder that night, he was not awake yet. He was still in the dream, next to Eliza, in a farmhouse in Butte, Montana. Where the buffalo roam, he thought. And when he woke up he was crushed at all that had come to pass. He felt so old. But also, all at once, he was relieved. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact sensation. It was of the most conflicting he had ever felt in his life.

Now he and Mary Beth had started continuing their way north again, eventually headed toward O’Creigh’s Run. It was so pretty here. So damn pretty, thought Arthur, especially once you got up in the Grizzlies a little, and these orange flowers grew everywhere, poppies or something, Arthur wasn’t quite sure. Ram and Whitetail all over the place, hopping and stumbling and drinking from the ravines. Arthur knew now that, as they left Emerald Station, they would soon be leaving civilization as they knew it and entering into a kind of dark territory. They still had time. Ambarino was a good, clean place, still wild terrain populated mostly by animals, hunters, fishermen. But once they got further east, it was all ghosts and people that looked like ghosts, and fog and strangers in the windows of rotten shacks way high on the cliffs. At times he became bothered with anxiety and regret at having brought Mary Beth on this trip, as he thought intensely about the dangers that could await them in the northern stretches of New Hanover. But it was too late now, and he didn’t rightly know anything, and for all of his certainties, it was just as dangerous, her sleeping alone at Shady Belle in the southern swamps of Lemoyne, as it was her riding with him in the deadzone of all that lie north of Annesburg. He supposed he could have taken her to Strawberry. To West Elizabeth. Real good hunting out there. But it was further west than he was willing to go, and the closer he got to Blackwater the faster the true dangers began to appear.

He knew it would be fine. He would make it fine. And for now, it was Ambarino, still just mountain prettiness and fields of wild flowers, and he knew that she would like it up here. He just knew. It all sort of looked like her, felt like her—soft and good but with unexpected outcroppings and steep drops and you had to keep a watch on your footing lest you loose your step. Plunge off a cliff. As they rode north, away from the Winterson’s comfortable B&B she was quiet for a time and wistful, like she was caught in a dream. He did not disturb her. He had not meant to worry her that night before. He had bad dreams all the time—it was nothing new. Nothing to do with Mary Beth.

But the truth was, that memory was already stoked by now. It was a creeping heat. He could feel it. Other times he might try and dull it out of himself with whiskey, but not today. He needed to be sharp. He needed to be fully awake and aware because even if it was pretty country there were a lot of dangers in the Grizzlies and there was nothing that was going to prevent him from protecting the two of them, protecting her.

So there he rode, right on the sharp knife’s edge of his worst nightmares, and yet fully in the present on the trail to Ambarino. They rode at a trot mostly. Mary Beth was contemplative and sometimes, she would slow down to scribble something in that book of hers and then she’d put it away into her dress folds again. He would smoke and light her a cigarette, hand it across to her as they rode on their horses, and she would take it and smile and thank him for his chivalry. These little pieces of their time together would tug the strings inside his heart. His affection for her was growing and this, too, like everything else in his conflicted mind made him homesick, and worried. She was a little like Eliza. She was young and had long, wavy hair that curled in the humidity, and she was kind and dutiful. They both liked to read. But unlike Eliza, Mary Beth was sure of herself. She had all this confidence, and until now, he’d never really known it. He’d always sort of seen her as the wildflower in the camp. Prettier, softer than the other girls, but incredibly stoic. It was hard to see through her. He felt in, in some ways, transparent by her side.

Arthur Morgan was a callused man but he had never once closed his heart to love. He was an optimist. He wanted to believe things would be okay. It was not this part of him that made him so difficult to crack.

They made camp near a lagoon called Moonstone Pond. Arthur took Mary Beth fishing. She was not experienced with a fishing rod and desired a lot of guidance. He showed her how to hold it, how to cast, watched her closely. She regarded the water with a close eye. She was very eager to learn, got a single bite, but it was kind of a big feller and she couldn’t manage. She broke the line and stamped her foot with comical indignation.

"Dammit," she said. "I’m a terrible fisherwoman."

"Nah, you’re just fine," said Arthur. "You know how many lines I break daily? And I’ve been fishing for...years. You’ll get it. Want to try again?"

She looked at the fishing pole then handed it back to him. "I’m too hungry to try again," she said, smiling. "I’d like to watch you."

He had a toothpick between his teeth, took it out of his mouth, flicked it to the weeds. It was chilly up in these parts and she had put on her riding gloves. "I’ll do my best not to disappoint you."

"You couldn’t disappoint me, Arthur Morgan."

This amused him. He fixed up his hook with a nice bait worm, cast it into the water. They stood quietly for a while. Mary Beth dropped to a crouch to look at her reflection. She tapped its surface and made little ripples in the water. The sun was getting lower, like a hot burn on the horizon, just past the trees.

Arthur caught a nice, fat bluegill, then another. Mary Beth clapped. She was very excited by the catch. He cleaned and filleted both fish as Mary Beth ground up some salt and pepper in a little mill. Arthur set the fillets on the pan and she sprinkled on the seasoning. By now the sun was down and the nighttime animals had come out for their evening prize. They could hear raccoons chattering and other weird animal noises in the distance, but nothing close enough to fear. After frying up and eating the fish, they split a can of strawberries for dessert. Between them it was like a whole swelling song. A harmony of nothing and thinking and peace. The temperature fell a little further with the sun gone away, and now they could see their breath, so they put on their coats and huddled close to the fire and close to one another, leaning up against a big rock. Arthur sensed that something was on Mary Beth's mind. She seemed to watch the fire like she was begging it to breathe into life, a Phoenix.

“Mary Beth,” he said, after some time.

“Yes, Arthur?”

“Everything okay? You seem a little...quiet.”

“I’m fine.” she said. She shifted toward him, held her hands over the fire. “I just been thinking. The country up here is big and it makes me feel things. That’s all.”

“I get that,” said Arthur. “I get that a lot.”

They warmed their hands to the flame. She leaned against him, casually, placed her head on his shoulder. “Are you okay?” she said.

“I’m fine,” said Arthur. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” she said. “Or—just, last night. You had a bad dream. Do you remember?” She was looking up at the dark night sky. The smoke from the fire went up and was mingling with the stars.

Arthur didn't say anything at first. "Nevermind," she said.

“It's all right," he said. He looked down at his gloved hands. "I do remember. Sort of. I remember the dream.”

“What was it?”

“I’ve had it a couple times now,” he said, scratching at the back of his neck. He wore his hat with a judicious feather of Cardinal. “It’s like, I’m living inside this polar bear skin.”

“A polar bear?” said Mary Beth.

“Yeah. I’m about to die, but I climb out instead, and when I do, the world is gone. It’s burned. It wakes me like that every time.”

“That sounds awful,” said Mary Beth.

“It ain’t pleasant,” said Arthur, resituating against the rock. He pulled his knees up to study the elaborate threading of his leather boots. “And every time I wake up from the dream, I been seeing something different. Someone different.”

“Like who?” she said. "Like Eliza?"

He looked at her, curious. He nodded. "Like Eliza."

She perked up a little, her eyebrows very pursed in concern. “That is what you said to me. You thought I was her?”

“Yes, or no. It wasn't that simple.”

“Who is she, Arthur?”

Arthur was quiet about it. The barbed wire creeping. But he was aching, too. He didn’t see the good in holding it inside. Not here, all alone out here, just them two. He and Mary Beth, they saw the world in such a similar way. He had opened up to her before. He sighed. “I can’t remember the last time I talked about this,” he said, almost to no one, to nothing. Almost laughing at himself.

“I know you had a girl once, before Mary Gillis. Abigail...she might have mentioned, once. Don't blame her. It wasn't gossip. Is that Eliza?”

“Yes, ma'am,” said Arthur.

Mary Beth just nodded. “I see. Is it bad? Is it bad, what happened?”

“She died,” said Arthur, surprising even himself. The words tasted, felt odd in his mouth. He picked up the empty can of strawberries. He studied the label. “We had a baby. A boy. He grew to about four years old, and then the two of them—they was killed by bandits, at home. For ten dollars. I wasn’t there. I suppose I dream about it, sometimes. I want you to know, I wasn’t calling you Eliza, Mary Beth. It wasn’t that. I was just…confused about where I was, after the dream and all. I’m sorry. These dreams—they can really take hold of you if you ain't prepared, which one never really can be.”

Mary Beth was staring now, right into him. He was staring at the fire, but he could feel her. She linked her arm inside of his with a great deal of intent. It was sort of like she already knew, or like she had divined it out of him, but of course that was foolish. He felt her little arm in his.

“I’m so sorry, Arthur,” she said. “Truly, I am. Thank you for trusting me with your story. For letting me help you carry it.”

“Of course,” he said, tossing the can into the darkness. “But there ain't nothing to be sorry for. I’m just shocked I found a way to say it out loud again.” It felt simple right now, but he knew. He knew nothing was so simple as just talking. He took a very deep breath.

Mary Beth smiled. He smiled down at her, in some sort of relief or embarrassment. She just put her head back on his shoulder for a little while and they waited beside one another, feeling the earth, hard and sore beneath their boots.

“You want some gin?” she said in a little while, out of nowhere. "Seems appropriate."

“Gin?”

“Mrs. Lizette Winterson gave me a novelty bottle before we left the B&B,” said Mary Beth. “You want some?”

Arthur smiled. “They sure liked you.”

“They liked you, too,” she said, and she hopped up. She patted him on his hat and then went to fetch the bottle off her horse nearby. “It’s a good bottle. It smells clean.”

“Clean is good,” said Arthur.

“You want some?”

“Sure. Just a little though.”

“A little is good,” said Mary Beth. She sat back down by his side and poured a couple slugs into their tin cups from dinner. She garnished the gin with little sprigs of mint, mostly for the looks, but it smelled nice. They touched their cups together.

“What are we toasting to?” said Arthur.

“I’m not sure,” said Mary Beth. "What's brought us here?"

“It was Sean, wasn't it?" said Arthur. "Old Sean MacGuire."

She got bright. “That’s right,” she said. And she held up her glass. “To Sean, and to all those who’ve gone from this life and on to the next.”

“To Sean,” said Arthur, solemn, but grateful. “He was a gotdam idiot, but I liked him.”

"Me, too."

They drank.

Arthur liked the gin—the mint made it feel very refreshing, like a cap on his sadness. Meanwhile, Mary Beth immediately shook out her head and laughed. “Yuck,” she said.

“Yuck?” said Arthur, admiring the gin in the bottom of his cup. “Tastes like Christmas trees if you ask me.”

“Well you are clearly more accustomed to the hard stuff, Arthur Morgan.”

“I don’t doubt that, Mary Beth Gaskill.��

They drank some more. Mary Beth sipped hers little by little and seemed to become tipsy in an instant. She was funny now, like she was trying to lighten the mood. To cheer him up as she was wont to do, and she spoke very fast about many things that interested her about their trip so far. The color of the mountains, the idiots on the bridge, the funny Frenchwoman, Lawrence and his little glasses, Arthur's bullet wound, the fight. Just as he had thought, she liked the orange flowers of the terrain very much. She liked the sky here, too. She said it was so clear, she thought to drink it. He thought it a beautiful image. Arthur listened to her talk, and he listened to the night world going off around them. It seemed safe. They were safe here, he thought. No trouble would befall them that night. He had decided. He sipped his gin.

“You know,” said Mary Beth, after a little while. She had finished her cup and poured a little more. Arthur stopped after one. He could sense she had warmed to him and she felt him responding. He was okay inside, sort of. She could tell.

“What is it?” he said.

“I used to have a really good daddy,” she went on, a little random, peering down into her drink. She nodded, stirred it a little with her finger. "He was a good man."

“Is that right?”

“He was a blacksmith,” she said. She took another sip. “And he was good to my mama and my brother and me. He was a literate man. We all could read, he saw to it. We had a homestead ranch in the cuts outside of Shawnee, Kansas.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” said Arthur.

“Oh yes,” said Mary Beth, smiling to herself. “Well, I did. Before he died, that is. He was about four years older than me.”

The way she'd said it was nonchalant. Arthur fixed on her. She was watery in her eyes now. Not drunk, but softened by the booze. He knew she wasn’t done with her story and sensed her unfolding. Like she was going to tell him now, her tragic past. Just as he had told her his. “Go on,” he said.

“My mama was a baker, and she sold her pies to the local market. I had a good childhood.”

“That sounds real good, Mary Beth. Real good."

“Yeah, it was,” she said.

He waited. She seemed like she wanted to set down her cup. It was not empty, but she seemed to be finished with it. He held out his hand, she gave it to him. He set it aside, staring right at her. But she was looking at her boots.

“When I was about twelve," she continued, dreamy at first, but then solemn, sniffling from the cold, "my parents was out, on the town one night. They went to a show or something. They was in love. They went on dates. My brother was home with me. We was playing a card game, Spades I think. He let me stay up late. My parents was robbed that night, on the ride home, my daddy killed by bandits after his pocket book, and his coach. They took the dress off my mama’s back and she nearly died as well from the cold. Violated, of course. Probably somewhere dark, outside. Only I didn’t realize then. I was...naive. I was twelve. When we found her, my brother covered my eyes and he put his jacket over my mama’s shoulders and we helped her home. I never saw my daddy’s body. I didn’t get to see much of anything, but I do remember my mama was just in her slip. She soon got...very ill, after that. Local doctor said she caught Typhoid Fever. Nobody knew where. The event and my daddy’s death put her at the end of her life, and she was depressed, on top of the illness. I do remember her, her drinking. All day. She wasted away. Mumbling and such, picking at her bed clothes like she thought they was infested with bugs. The fever made her say and do odd things. I’ll never forget. She died a month later.”

Arthur sighed. He took her gloved hand in his. It was very small. “I’m sorry, Mary Beth. That sounds very hard.”

She smiled, low. It was her way. To smile. To always try and smile. “Thanks, Arthur. Anyway me and my brother was taken away from each other after that. Me and Bobby. That was his name. They stuck me in a home for orphans in Shawnee, but he was old enough and he found work at the mine.”

“Coal mining?” said Arthur.

“Yeah. Coal. But he had a...accident. That’s what they told me. About a year later. A bad fall. Broke his spine. That's how he died. All the money he made, he kept squirreled away and he would bring me a billfold every Saturday. I had been saving. I used most of it to bury him proper. We had a church funeral and I was the only one who came, save for the pastor. They let me out of the orphanage for it and that is the night I slipped their eye. I went to Kansas City with fifteen dollars to my name. I met a madame who was good and she found me before it was too late. Said I was too young and too pretty for whoring but she liked my disposition and taught me to pick pockets instead. To be…persuasive. I ain’t never whored, Arthur. I ain’t never been that kind of girl, no matter how bad it got. I swear.”

She seemed nervous as she said it, like she was apologizing, or meaning to prove something to him. Arthur was just listening, but when she got to this part, he became almost alarmed—not by what she’d said, but how she’d said it. He straightened up. He felt something snag inside him. Some hard protective nature coming into focus. He didn’t want her thinking like this, feeling these things about herself. “I would never judge you for that, Mary Beth. Not ever. Do you hear?"

“Arthur—“

“I said, do you hear?"

She was fixed in his eyes, blue as winter. She believed him. He could see it. “Yes, I do.”

“Good,” said Arthur. He slouched back a little. There was a cold rock for him to lean against. He opened up his chest and put his arm around her shoulders. He kissed the top of her lavender head, held her fiercely out of some pure instinct. He was deep inside that moment and not coming up for nothing. He was reminding her of something, something real between them, and about him, who he was. What little he truly understood about himself, this was it. He wasn't going on and letting her think her worth to him somehow depended on her past hardships. They sat like that for a little while.

Meanwhile, Mary Beth felt protected and guilty and happy and uncertain and very warm in his embrace. She was tipsy, but she was not far gone, and she’d never been held like this—not by him, not by a man she cared about, so safe and familiar. The way he smelled was indescribable. It was just Arthur. Like plants and skin and warm mint on his neckerchief. Sweat and smoke and bonfires. She placed her face into the scruff on his neck and just breathed. It made her feel all better. It calmed her senses, her nerves, her sadness and her anxieties. He was allowing her to do this. He had one of his big gloved hands in her hair. He took a deep breath and she could feel his wide chest rising and then falling against her in an exhale. Then, she closed her eyes for a moment, and he began to speak in his deep voice.

“I remember that day I met you,” he said. She could hear the smiling in his voice. She opened her eyes. “We brought you back to our camp in Leawood. You had about a hundred stories and you had a…very expensive hunting knife holstered on you, if I recall correctly, one of the likes I’d never seen. What was it, five years ago?”

“About,” said Mary Beth, smiling. “I stole that knife off a brigadier. Or, that's what he said he was. I’m not sure what a brigadier would be doing in Kansas. Even still. It wasn’t hard.”

“Well, you’ve got talent.”

“I was little more than a kid I suppose,” she said. “When you found me.” She shrugged.

“You wasn’t no kid,” said Arthur, like an affirmation. He looked down at her, very serious. “You was surviving. It’s all we’ve ever done, souls like us, Mary Beth. Growing up fast, living hard, because we have to.”

His wisdom crushed into her, face first. She was so grateful. “I reckon we are just a couple of busted umbrellas, you and me,” she said. “Been through one too many storms in this lifetime.”

“Maybe,” said Arthur. “But you have taught me that there’s always some good in the world, somewhere. Despite it all. And we’ll get through it. It’s gonna be okay, Mary Beth.”

He squeezed her tight. She smiled to herself. Something between them cracked wide open. Arthur watched the fire. She put her head back onto his shoulder. She examined the sky. It was so big. So big, she could barely understand. “It sure is pretty here,” said Mary Beth, wistful. They seemed to float.

“It sure is,” said Arthur.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #arthur morgan #mary beth gaskill #arthur x mary beth #arthur morgan x mary beth gaskill #my writing

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newmusicmonthly · 4 years

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2020

Hello. I hope you and yours are well. As is tradition, below are my selections for albums and songs of the year. As I have yet to receive a reply from you, dear reader, sincerely asking to unsubscribe, you are therefore the proud recipient of the list once more! I’ve altered the format from 5 tracks each month because, as I suspect many of you did, I went into a nostalgic hole for large chunks of this year (for me this consisted of at least two months of nothing but Funkadelic, which does mean my personalised algorithm is now ace), but also when I looked back at when many of these tracks were released it was front heavy for the first half of the year – another body blow to the supposed “monthly” mailer. I even considered not writing my one-liners, but where is the fun in that? Furthermore, trying to keep the long list to 60 tracks in total (equivalent to 5 per month) proved overly frustrating, so I’ve included some extras, especially as this year felt 13 month long. Notwithstanding said excuses, enough preamble, on with the list! Let me know what you think and do send me your own selections. Lots of love xx TOP 10s TOP 10 ALBUMS Baxter Dury – The Night Chancers Mildlife – Automatic SAULT – Untitled (Black Is) Alice Boman – Dream On Kanaan – Odense Sessions Lightning Orchestra – Source And Deliver Yves Tumor – Heaven To A Tortured Mind The Strokes – The New Abnormal Woods – Strange to Explain Erland Cooper – Hether Blether TOP 10 TRACKS Malena Zavala – En la Noche Caribou – You & I Yves Tumor – Kerosene! Puscifer – Apocalyptical Mildlife – Automatic King Hannah – Meal Deal SAULT – Wildfires // Bow [yes, there are two tracks there] Kanaan – Urgent Excursions To the Tundrasphere Frazey Ford – Golden Jessie Ware – What’s Your Pleasure? NEW MUSIC ‘MONTHLY’ MAILER Spotify Link Here Holy Fuck – Near Mint What better way to kick off a retrospective look at 2020 than with ‘Holy Fuck’ Alice Boman – It’s OK, It’s Alright Really love this album and this pick is a real downer, spectral and haunting but also touching Smoke Fairies – Out Of The Woods Jessica and Katherine still delivering a decade on, the chorus guitar riff is tops Nicolas Godin – The Border Air’s Nicolas Godin doing his best detached friendly robot, mais bien sur Moses Boyd – BTB Vibrant, propulsive, energetic, gotta move! The Men – Wading In Dirty Water Avid readers will know I’m a fan of these guys and this one rides a familiar Crazy Horse choogle Tame Impala – Breathe Deeper Funky bass, piano flourishes, solid synths, all groove Kanaan – Urgent Excursions To the Tundrasphere Ok, here it is, there’s always going to be at least one – this is the 14 min space rock jam – skip/enjoy! Frazey Ford – Golden This production is right up my street, soulful vocals swoop around tight rhythm section and hammond keys, an analogue dream Caribou – You and I From the analogue to a digital master, man this beat is catchy Pulled By Magnets – Cold Regime People Die File this under terrifying experimental jazz Jonathan Wilson – Riding The Blinds JW doing that 6/8 minor ballad thang Baxter Dury – Say Nothing Another album I loved this year and could have picked any number of tracks, so here’s a quote from Baxter: “My craft and in a sense a certain style has been perfected and it’s easy… I don’t have to do it again basically. I don’t want to hear another man talking over an orchestral background.” Ha! U.S. Girls – 4 American Dollars Slick funky, soulful, classic strings, building into a brilliant outro with great lyrics Deeper – Lake Song Detached vibe ala Joy Division / The Cure done through a Pavement lens with serious downer lyrics Pretty Lightning – Voo Doo Boo Swampy dirge guitar grooves Tamikrest – Anha Achal Wad Namda Another mailer favourite, Touareg guitar wizards Tony Allen, Hugh Masekela – Never (Lagos Never Gonna Be the Same) Master drummer who sadly passed away earlier this year just after this release, and two years after master trumpeter Masekela’s own passing, this track is a buzzing tribute to Fela Myrkur – House Carpenter Danish black metaller does Scandinavian folk: bright and beautiful Sufjan Stevens, Lowell Brams – The Runaround A weird album, even by Sufjan standards, but I found these electronic ambient sounds strangely comforting R.A.P. Ferreira – ABSOLUTES Rhythm & poetry The Weeknd – Blinding Lights What can I add to the smash of 2020? Catchy af Porridge Radio – Long Indie banger, with a decidedly angry, bitter, playful lyrics Cleo Sol – Her Light If online research is to be believed Cleo is part of the collective in SAULT with producer Inflo, but this album is standalone brilliance without knowing that, this is pure vintage soul vibes Malena Zavala – En la Noche I returned to this track more than any other this year, the rhythm, the vocals, the melody, the production, even if I have to use google translate to fully understand the lyrics Tom Misch, Yussef Dayes – Lift Off Molten guitar, groovy arrangements, and plenty of business from Dayes Yves Tumor – Kerosene! An absolute belter, amazing vocals, groove and crescendo perfection Warm Digits, The Orielles – Shake The Wheels Off (feat. The Orielles) Immediate synth pop, indie dancefloor (with some solid cowbell) EOB – Brasil First solo venture for Ed, acoustic folk gives way to rumbling bass banger, would very much like to experience this in a field Other Lives – Hey Hey I Grand rocking orchestral aural assault with hints of Morricone Elephant Tree – Sails Fulfilling the heavy dirge quota, that hit at 2:33 is a proper head in the speakers moment The Strokes – Why Are Sundays So Depressing This album snuck up on me, and then I found myself listening to it non-stop, this track such an ear worm Houses of Heaven – In Soft Confusion I think the right descriptor is darkwave – insistent drum machine, reverb soaked vocals, industrial production, gloomy pop hooks Joel Sarakula – Don’t Give Up on Me Operating in a dangerous space between homage and pastiche, groove and parody, this is smooth easy yacht rock Donny Benét – Second Dinner Following hot on the heels of pastiche, this time with tongue firmly in cheek, The Don and his 80s reverence lolz Perfume Genius – Whole Life Completely arresting, the lyrics an absolute gut punch, yet still gorgeous Jake Blount – Beyond This Wall From the press release, this album “features fourteen carefully chosen tracks drawn from Blount’s extensive research of Black and Indigenous mountain music. The result is an unprecedented testament to the voices paradoxically obscured yet profoundly ingrained into the Appalachian tradition” – this contemporary instrumental is a superb banjo and fiddle tune Holy Hive – Broom Formed by the drummer from the Dap Tones and inspired by being on tour with Lee Fields, this gentle soul, complete with tremolo guitar and horns, really floats Woods – Where Do You Go When You Dream A welcome return to form, this mellotron infused number is beautifully catchy Erland Cooper – Linga Holm Dramatic piano and strings from an altogether wild and wonderful album Mystery Jets – Screwdriver Loud / quiet dynamic, bombastic riffs, seething verses, the Jets turn it up to eleven to fight with love Jehnny Beth – Flower Another track where hushed verses give way to chorus explosions, serious tension and intensity Hinds – Good Bad Times Love that thudding bass drum, big stomping pop Norah Jones – Were You Watching? Smooth but haunting, with added Celtic flavour Braids – Young Buck Bleeps and bloops, melancholic poppy vocals, and the damnedest catchiest chorus Jessie Ware – What’s Your Pleasure? Is it getting hot in here? No further questions LA Priest – What Moves Quirky strutting electro, sleek yet squelchy SAULT – Wildfires + SAULT, Michael Kiwanuka – Bow Double billing because I couldn’t make a choice (plus when I realised the rhythms flow perfectly into one another it’s like it’s one song) Run The Jewels – a few words for the firing squad (radiation) Again, difficult to choose which track on this album; this is pure fire with sax and all GUM – The Thrill Of Doing It Right Turn this feel good banger up! Such a big hit when the horns drop at the start The Vacant Lots - Fracture Catchy, icy, synths (and Desert Sands label mates by the by) A.A. Williams – Melt Enchanting slow-burning, stirring post-rock, with a wonderful, soaring crescendo Lightning Orchestra – For Those Who Are Yet To Be Born A late discovery, but immediately catapulted to the top, self-described “psychedelic booty-shake” Kamaal Williams – Save Me Almost chose ‘Pigalle’ but the tight push drumming on this won out, hard funky jazz stylings of the Herbie variety Victoria Monét – Dive Lavish and groovy, and as Monét puts it: “They say most humans are about 60% water, but I believe women must be 69% so dive in baby." Secret Machines – Talos’ Corpse Genuinely so happy to see Brandon and Josh back and still with the big sounds All Them Witches – Enemy of My Enemy Relentlessly heavy, all the chops and described by one reviewer as the love child of TOOL, Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath and Kyuss; I love this band Fenne Lily – Birthday Beautiful and bruised Mildlife – Automatic Another new discovery, in the pocket cosmic goodness and much as it pains me to quote from NME I can’t think of a better description than ‘Mobius strip funk’ Puscifer – Apocalyptical Maynard in the video for this track is an indelible image; massive swaggering Intruder-esque drums, angular menacing guitars, Carina’s ethereal edgy vocals, Maynard’s gritted teeth whispers, and apposite apocalyptical lyrics Matt Berninger – Loved So Little Confessional moody acoustic conjuring up Western-esque vistas Goldensuns – Denandra Moore Californian sun-drenched lo-fi groove, for fans of Conan Mockasin and Night Moves Frankie and the Witch Fingers – Cavehead F*cking excellent west coast garage psych melange and the B,D,E ascend at 3:10 is nod central King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard – The Hungry Wolf Of Fate Genre bending brilliance once again from down under, this cut a heavy, doomy Sabbath assault King Hannah – Meal Deal Ominous drone opens into an acoustic tale of buying a flat with a spider in the bath, Hannah’s sinister smoky sultry vocals draw you in, before some menacing low frequency dirge guitar and drums kick in at 1:30… By this point on first listen I was already hooked, but then comes a great walloping Angel Olsen ‘Sister’ style crescendo, a glorious find at the end of the year (props to Manuel) HONOURABLE MENTIONS Elephant Stone – I See You Sam Lee, Elizabeth Frazer – The Moon Shines Bright Priscilla Ermel – Martim Pescador Rheinzand – Blind Dogleg – Fox The Flaming Lips, Deap Lips – Home Thru Hell The Heliocentrics – Hanging By A Thread Midwife – 2018 Chicano Batman – Color My life Trace Mountains – Rock & Roll Peach Pit – Shampoo Bottles Buscabulla – Vámono Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever – Cars In Space Jess Williamson – Wind on Tin Thiago Nassif, Arto Lindsay – Plástico The Vacant Lots – Endless Rain Nubya Garcia – Stand With Each Other (Feat. Ms MAURICE, Cassie Kinoshi, & Richie Seivwright) Juanita Stein – L.O.T.F. Carlton Melton – Waylay Paul McCartney – Long Tailed Winter Bird

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authoressskr · 7 years

Text

Give and Take

So, I had an odd sort of dream the other night and it helped shape this fic. This is unbeta’d and probably not all in one tense, but I had to get it all typed out!Hope you all enjoy it even if parts don’t make sense sometimes - I is sometimes not so good with the words...

This is a Castiel x Reader AU fic and it had some language (i think) and mentions of character death and some abandonment kinda mentioned.

Tagging the usual people I like to bother...

@lyndsay88 @sdavid09 @lucis-unicorn @thewhiterabbit42 @mamaredd123

Returning to your hometown, with a six-year-old in tow, was not ever in your immediate plans.

Lawrence, Kansas had always held a special place in your heart. You had grown up here. Fell in love for the first time here. But when a job offer had come from California for your mother, just after graduating high school, you’d gone with her simply because she was the only family you had and you had never been apart for more than a couple weeks.

But life has a funny way of giving and taking.

It took your save haven - the only place you could actually remember growing up - but gave you Eileen Leahy, who was the best friend you could have ever asked for. Eileen and you met the first day of college, English 101. She’d been delighted to find someone who knew sign language, even if only enough to get through a short conversation, but you had scribbled down on the paper with your cell number and room assignment that you were willing to learn more.

Your friendship blossomed. Or as your mother put it “Overtook the garden like ivy.” You two were like sisters, subtle sarcasm and movie quotes galore. Both of you had been born in one place and relocated to another, you: California to Kansas and Eileen: Ireland to California. Eileen was simply the best person you had ever met in your life.

So, when she had called you that rainy California night, asking you to hurry and come over, you had done so without hesitation. And when she held that little plastic stick up, with its little blue plus sign, you let out a squeal of joy. Eileen would be a wonderful mother! But she just looked at you with sad eyes, signing ‘What if I can’t hear my own baby cry at night?’

’Other deaf parents do it all the time, all over the world. You will do awesome. I expect nothing less from Eileen Leahy.’ You sign back, a wide grin tugging on your face.

And just like that, your worlds changed. You both moved into a new apartment, two bedrooms and a small “den” that would serve you well until the baby went to school at least. Her boyfriend, Eric, would take her to appointments and for the ones he couldn’t get off from work, you went.

You cried when you first heard her heartbeat.

Eric died in a car accident when Eileen was five months along. Drunk driver plowed straight into him. But Eileen was strong, making the funeral arrangements since he had no family.

She’d crawl into your bed on particularly hard nights, scooting until her back was pressed against yours before sighing and falling asleep.

It was September 24th, 2011 when life gave you Madeline Leahy and September 26th, 2011 is when it took Eileen from the two of you.

Eileen had, of course, prepared for any and every eventually. You’d gone to court and with no blood relatives able to claim her - and Eileen’s will and legal papers - you were legally able to adopt her less than two weeks after she’d been born.

Thankful to have your mother to help, you raised Madeline as your own. When she cooed out “mama” for the first time, you cried. And your happy life was upturned again, just after February 2014, when your mother died in a car accident.

And after a few more years at your well-paying job, you gave your two-week notice, loaded up your sensible three row mid-size SUV and headed back home to Lawrence, Kansas. Better schools for Madeline and a visit to the familiar was what you needed after these last few years.

Pulling into town, you realized how much has changed and how little has changed. You typed in the address to your new home, realizing it was actually just a handful of houses away from where the Winchesters and Novaks had once lived. You wondered briefly if they still lived there before Madeline let out a squeal from the backseat.

“Is that our new house, Mommy?”

“Yes, it is, squidgy! Ready to see it?”

“Yes!” A little pause, her little feet swinging and gently hitting the edge of her booster seat. “Who’s that lady?”

“That’s Jo. I went to school with her and she found our house for us.” You pull into the driveway, next to Jo’s very nice, very new truck. Freeing Madeline is relatively easy and you grab your purse before handing her the soft, periwinkle bunny that Eileen had bought the day after she’d found out she was pregnant. “Don’t forget Poppy.” Madeline tugs the bunny from your grip and hugs it tight to her chest, giving you a nervous smile.

“Hi, Y/N! And you must be Madeline!” Madeline held out her little hand, shaking Jo’s bigger one firmly.

“Madeline Leahy-Y/L/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Joanna Beth Harvelle, but you can call me Jo. And it is very lovely to meet you as well. Very good hand shake.”

“Thank you.” Madeline takes your hand, giving it a squeeze. Jo hands you two plain silver keys and pulls another from her pocket that is purple with lime green and lighter purple polka dots all over it.

“Here are the keys to your new home!”

“Go ahead, squidgy.” You urge, letting your daughter use her very own key to open the front door. “Thank you.” You whisper to Jo, who just smiled reassuringly as Madeline pushes open the thick mahogany wood.

“This place is huge!”

“Go on and explore then.” Her little feet scurry from the entryway towards the dining room/kitchen. “Thanks again, Jo. I know it’s difficult enough selling a house when the person lives in town or nearby, but states away? You’re amazing.”

“Thanks, but it’s all part of my job. And it was nice to help an old friend, bring them home.” Jo follows you into the kitchen, her smile widening as you sigh happily at the large space. “Oh - this basket has some fudge, cupcakes, and scones from Gabriel Novak’s bakery and café Heaven Sent.”

“Mom, is the really big room - can I have a cupcake?”

“Sure honey, but just one please. And yes, the really big room is mine.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. Call or text if you need anything. I sent you all the paperwork, but I’ve left your originals in the dark green folder under the goodie basket.” Jo gives your forearm a squeeze. “And brace yourself for the neighbors and casseroles.”

Four hours, six neighbors, three casseroles, and one pot roast later you manage to set up both your and Madeline’s beds and got most of her room set up by the time the next visitor rang their doorbell.

“COMING!” You and Madeline yell in tandem, pushing up from your seated position on the floor, sorting through all her clothes as she put them away in her drawers. Thank the Lord for Jo, who had let the movers in the day before. You pad downstairs, running a hand through your hair before putting on a smile and opening the front door.

“Welcome to the neighborhood! I’m Mary Winchester and this is my husband John. We live -”

“Five houses down. Sorry. I just, uh, I grew up here. I remember your sons. They were all a little older than me. I’m Y/N Y/L/N and this is my daughter Madeline.”

“Oh! Of course! John, you remember Y/N, the one the Novak twins had a crush on when they were little?”

“Yeah, of course. The one who cried over the snails and punched Lucifer.”

“Mommy, you aren’t supposed to hit.”

“No, honey, you’re right. You shouldn’t hit. But I did it a long time ago and I had my reasons.” Madeline blinks big brown eyes up at you then shrugs.

“I’m not much of a cook, so I didn’t bring you anything edible. I brought some apple cinnamon candles and a coupon for the garage if you ever have any car troubles.”

“Wow, thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Winchester.”

“Of course! And just know that we’re just a few houses away if you need anything. Is your husband at work?”

“It’s just Mommy and me.” Madeline answers, opening the lid of one of the two medium-sized candles and sniffing.

“Well, in that case, you need anything done just call me, I’ll run over to the house and jot down our numbers, and we’ll get one of the boys to come help.”

“Okie dokie! I’ll post them on the fridge. Thank you, Mary.”

---

Three days later, Madeline woke you up bright and early, a good hour before your alarm was due to do off.

You had gotten up, got your shower first then shooed Madeline into the shower. As soon as she got out, you could hear her shuffling around in her room. She picked her own outfit, a dark gray shirt with white sparkly angel wings on the back and a pair of red skinny jeans. And you laughed when she came into your room, since you were sporting maroon skinny jeans and a dark gray shirt.

’Copycat.’ You sign, smirking at your daughter.

’You copied me!’ Her little fingers danced before she stuck out her tongue.

“Got your backpack ready? Whatcha want for lunch?”

“PB and J!” Once downstairs, you made her sandwich while she flitted around and gathered a couple snacks to add to her light gray kitty lunchbox.

“Okay! So, since we are early, do you want me to make a big breakfast - pancakes, eggs and some sausage - or would you like to go down to Heaven Sent and get some cocoa and breakfast sandwiches?”

“Heaven Sent! Can we get me a cupcake for lunch too?”

“We’ll see if they have a small box for them to go. If they don’t, we’ll get you one next time. I still can’t find the box with the plastic ware, and I think the cupcake holder is in there.”

“Okay. We’ll look through some more boxes when I get home.” She says so matter-of-factly, tucking her lunchbox into her galaxy print backpack with a tiny, cute, cartoon unicorns on the front pocket.

“Got your key?” She nods. “Okay, you want your hair up, down, half-up?”

“A messy bun?”

“Can do! Go grab the brush and the pink mason jar with the hair ties and bobby pins from the bathroom then we’ll head out.” Her little bare feet don’t make too much noise as they climb the carpeted stairs and it reminds you to shout up after her. “Socks too!”

“I shoved the socks in the hair jar.” She pants out, rejoining you in the kitchen. You lift her up onto the barstool, brushing her long brown hair before pulling it into a messy bun, braiding a long spare piece you’d left out and wrapping it around the base of her messy bun.

“Ta-da! Okay, lets grab our socks and shoes.” You sat side by side on the little antique bench, pulling on your socks and shoes before grabbing your purse and Madeline her backpack.

“Can we walk? Like yesterday?”

“Yeah, we got the time today.”

A short ten-minute walk got you downtown and another few minutes got you to an offshoot of Main Street where Heaven Sent was located. The space is big enough for five big tables, a couple of booths, and a half dozen two-seater café tables. The bakery is open from 5 am to 6 pm and offers almost every delicious thing anyone could dream up. When you walked in, you were assaulted with the wonderful scent of coffee and an underlying smell of cinnamon.

“Can you read the signs?” You ask softly, scanning through the options.

“I can read, Mom.”

“I meant can you see it, Miss Sassypants.” A deep chuckle behind you draws your attention, making you turn to look over your shoulder. And you suck in a sharp breath. You’d know that face - those sapphire eyes - anywhere.

“Good morning.” His voice rumbles out, smiling at you.

“Good morning, Castiel.”

“Y/N?! Wow. It’s been - it’s been forever. When did you move back?” You turn to face him fully, only to be suddenly wrapped in his embrace, his scent still the same as all those years before. All those other embraces, sweet words and stolen kisses. The feel of his body claiming yours for the first time. His last whispered “I love you” before you left.

Funny how much more you had in common with his family now. Chuck Shurley had adopted all his sister, Amara Novak’s, children and raised them as his own. After she had come for a visit one day with five-year-old Michael, four-year-old Lucifer, and nearly two-year-old Gabriel - she had simply told Chuck it was too much, too hard and they needed stability. So, she left her three sons with her brother. And every time she got pregnant after that, she’d appear at Chuck’s home with her baby - or babies as was the case when the twins, Balthazar and Castiel - only to disappear a day or so later after all the paperwork was signed.

Not identical but similar. You both now had children you loved more than anything through circumstances you never saw coming.

“Mommy. The line’s moving.”

“Sorry,” You excuse yourself to the two people behind Cas, pulling yourself from his embrace reluctantly. “Sorry Madeline.” You step forward in the line, just one person from the register now. “Oh, um, yeah, it’s been awhile. I just moved back a few days ago. Wanted better schools for Madeline.” You put a hand on her upper back, her little hand shooting out. “Castiel, this is my daughter Madeline. Madeline, this is Castiel Novak, we grew up together.” Cas takes her tiny hand in his, shaking it very seriously.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Madeline.”

“Thank you, Cat - Cas, Castiel. That’s a hard name.”

“You can call me Cas, most people do.”

“Can I help - IS THAT Y/N?!” Gabriel shouts from the register, making you whip around, a grin stretched across your face.

“Gabriel!” He’s already around the counter, pulling you into a crushing hug.

“You know the cupcake man?!” Madeline gasps out in wonder. Gabriel releases you, but keeps an arm around your shoulders, giving you a firm squeeze.

“That she does, little sugar cube. I’m Gabriel.”

“Madeline.” She extends her hand again and Gabriel drops his arm to kneel on one knee, grasping her small hand in his.

“Very pretty name. Now, what can I get you two pretty ladies?” He slides back behind the counter, rubbing his hands together.

“We will have two medium cocoas and I will have a cranberry white chocolate scone and you, squidgy?”

“I want a blueberry muffin. Do you make cupcake holders?” She ordered and asked all in one breath and Gabriel chuckled.

“I can absolutely get you a cupcake to go. What kind?”

“Strawberry!”

“Done!” You pull your debit card from your wallet and Gabriel scoffs. “You ate everything I made when we were little, even if it was weird. Your money is worthless in this establishment.”

“Gabriel...”

“Nope. Won’t hear of it! Now, shoo, I have other customers. Hey Cas. The usual?” You guide Madeline towards one of the corner café tables by a wall of books, all having to do with food.

“You know lots of people here, Mom.”

“I grew up here, so I do know some people. But not lots.” You chuckle, fishing through your purse for your little notebook. You pull a pen from an inside pocket and scribble down what you’ve ordered (you’d keep track, even if Gabriel wouldn’t), before turning the page and tapping the pen against it as Cas nervously approached the table.

“May I sit with you?”

“Of course, Cas.”

“How have you been? Where have you been? California?” Madeline looks from you to Cas before tugging the notebook and pen from under your fingertips.

“Yeah, I’ve been in California since I left here. Uh, I’ve been good. Really good. How have you been?”

“I’ve been well. I teach second grade at Lawrence Elementary now. Do you have a job yet? Or maybe your husband does?” Gabriel appears at the table with a tray, three drinks, a muffin, a scone and a bacon breakfast sandwich.

“Smooth, little brother. Real smooth.” Gabriel mutters loudly, making Castiel blush slightly, dropping his gaze to the tray.

“I’m not married. And no, not yet. I was going to start looking today while Madeline is in school.”

“Ooh, call Dean, Cassie! They need someone to run the office now that Missouri is moving. Do you know how to do that?”

“Mommy helped run the office at her old job. She could do that!”

“Perfect! We’ll get you and Castiel off to school then I’ll take Mommy to the Winchesters and we’ll be all set!”

“We met them! They live by us!” Madeline is nearly vibrating in her seat as she talks to Gabriel.

“Awesome. That means you live by my dad too! Okay, now you eat, I’ll go package up a strawberry cupcake and I’ll walk with you guys to school.” He doesn’t wait for agreement or an argument, he just winds his way through the tables to the back.

“I’m sorry about Gabriel. He is -”

“He hasn’t changed a bit.” You get out between light laughter. Today has certainly been one for the books. “It’s fine. Really.” You place your hand on Cas’s forearm, gripping the tan trench coat briefly before removing your hand to eat. Cas nods and digs into his sandwich before peering over at Madeline.

“What are you writing?”

“My name. And Mommy’s name. And then I drew this cupcake.”

“It’s a very nice cupcake.”

“It’s just black, ‘cause I didn’t have no other colors.”

“Still very lovely. Are you done? May I take your trash?”

“Thank you.” You and Madeline say in tandem, smiling at each other.

’Copycat.’ She signs, sticking out her tongue. Cas and Gabriel join you, Gabriel extending a small clear container with a bright pink cupcake with sparkly pink icing with a neon blue “M” on top of it.

“There you are, Miss Madeline.” You stood, putting your notebook and pen back into your purse, grabbing your cup as you watched your daughter set her backpack onto the table, withdrawing her lunch box and gingerly setting the cupcake on the top of her sandwich, rearranging her banana to lay against the cupcake container and putting the two bags of Disney fruit gummies on top. She carefully zipped the lunch box, settling it back into her backpack.

“Okay. We can go now.”

“You sound like your mom when we were little. Oh, little sugar snap, the stories I could tell you!” Cas’s hand is gentle, barely there, against the middle of your back, Madeline in front of you as Gabriel holds the door.

“What kind of stories?”

“All kinds.” Cas confirms, sticking close to the outside of the sidewalk. Gabriel launches into a story when you were five and they saw you walking around and asked if you wanted to play at the park. You said you weren’t playing - you were collecting dinosaur eggs. Which were just large rocks that were more egg-shaped. Cas and Gadreel had been more than willing to help, only for their other brother, Michael to come over and matter-of-factly tell all three of you that dinosaurs were extinct. And you had told him that Jurassic Park said they were alive again and he couldn’t have one.

“Your mom kept the “eggs” in the sun, kept them all together and lovingly checked on them all the time, hoping they’d hatch and she’d have a dinosaur or two.” The school is in sight now, Madeline laughing at the story.

”I’m still upset I never hatched a dinosaur,” You mutter, tossing your empty cup into a nearby trash can before crossing the road to the school. The four of you make your way to the kindergarten building, you take a quick tour of the room, meeting Madeline’s teacher and leaving her the Emergency Contact packet you had picked up from the school a couple days ago, all while Gabriel and Cas wait just outside.

“Have a great first day. I love you, my squidgy.” You kiss her forehead, tears stinging your eyes. “I’ll be back to pick you up at 1. Okay?” You kiss her again before the first school bell rings. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Mommy. I’ll see you later.” She presses a quick kiss to your cheek before she bounds over to her assigned seat, you back out of the room slowly, watching as her teacher closes the door as the second bell sounds. You manage a short wave before it closes completely, the tears spilling silently from your eyes.

Castiel’s scent envelopes you, his arm wind around you, pulling you against his side. You stand there for a few minutes in silence before another bell rings out.

“I have to go to work. But I’ll see you later, Y/N.” His blue eyes are kind, just as kind as they’ve always been. “It’s been nice seeing you again.” You turn towards him, hugging him as tightly as he first did.

“Have a good day, Castiel. I was glad to see you too.”

“Alright, alright. Stop hogging her!” He jokes as Cas and you separate, Gabriel taking your hand and leading you from the school grounds.

---

John readily agreed to your employment (after seeing your resume - the man wasn’t born yesterday), thankful to have someone who Missouri likes and feels is competent enough to handle not just the garage’s paperwork but also Bobby Singer’s auto salvage yard as well. John also added that he’d let you have time off to pick Madeline up and she could stay up in the office til the workday was over. You nearly burst out in tears again.

“Thank you, John.” You throw your arms around his neck. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s fine, sweetheart. You were like family growing up and now you got your own family to take care of.” He wraps one arm around you, giving a gentle squeeze before pulling away. “You start tomorrow, 8 am. You give all your paperwork to Missouri?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Gabriel is a smirking mess when you exit the garage before tapping his cheek.

“I think I deserve it.” You roll your eyes, but kiss his cheek regardless.

“Thank you, Gabriel. Really. You’re awesome.”

“I know.” He claps his hands then rubs them together. “Okie dokie, hot stuff, I’m gonna head back to work now. But feel free to drop by anytime, Y/N.” He waggles his eyebrows before blowing you a kiss as he starts back towards his bakery.

Taking a deep breath, you head home. Certainly, today had not turned out like you had thought today would go at all...

---

Two weeks later, now settled into your new house and getting the routine you’d set up the second day of school down pat, you drove to the Lawrence Animal Shelter to deliver on your promise to get Madeline a kitten.

To be fair, you had thought maybe with school, moving and the weekly trips on Saturday afternoons to Heaven Sent (Gabriel was always happy to spoil Madeline with whatever sweet she wanted - and a few she had reluctantly tried at his behest) that maybe, just maybe, she’d temporarily forgotten.

Luck was not on your side, since the night before she had slid up onto a stool in the kitchen, watching you pull the two trays blueberry muffins from the oven, a serious expression in her light brown eyes.

“Mommy. Remember before we moved? You said when we go a new house and I started school, I could get a kitty?”

“I remember.”

“Can we go tomorrow and get one? Pretty please? You promised, ‘member?”

“Okay. Okay. We’ll go tomorrow morning and give some muffins to Gabriel and we’ll go look for a kitten.” You gently free the first six muffins from the pan, setting them on the counter to cool. “Now, squidgy, you know you gotta take care of it. Clean its litter box - make sure it doesn’t chew or tear up things it shouldn’t - and make sure to feed it, brush it and play with it.”

“I will! I can do it!” You sigh, raising an eyebrow.

“Alright. First bring me my laptop so we can read over what we’ll need to do and need to go buy. And when we go, we can ask about veterinarians in the area and stuff. I’m not promising you a kitten tomorrow, Madeline - you understand that, honey? Sometimes it takes a little while to find the one that’s just right.” She nods enthusiastically, her long brown hair swinging as she slides down from the stool and rushes into the little office/library down the hall.

You exit the car, opening the back door to release your child, who is talking a million miles a minute, saying potential names and looking at the list you had printed out for her, saying that the kitten needed a pink bed or maybe a red one, or that she would like a black cat, like in Hocus Pocus. You wrap your wallet around your wrist by the thin leather strap and take Madeline’s left hand in your right, silently steeling yourself for either coming home with another tiny life or to face the disappointment on your daughter’s face when it doesn’t happen today.

No one is at the front desk, so you call out a loud “Hello”, watching as a bright red-headed woman comes in carrying a big black cat.

“I’m sorry! I was in the Cattery and didn’t hear the door jingle. My name is Charlie Bradbury, how may I be of assistance?”

“We need a kitty.” Madeline pipes up beside you.

“Is this your first kitty or do you have another one?”

“It’s our first.” You supply.

“Well congratulations on deciding to become pet parents! Now, animals are a lot of responsibility, but you two look very responsible. Come on, I‘ll show you to the Cattery.” She leads the way down a short hallway, Madeline tightening her hold on your hand momentarily before walking cautiously into the room behind Charlie, you follow and close the door firmly behind you. “So, I’ll pull out a few of the kittens first - we got them three weeks ago and they’re all ready to go to good homes.” The door opens behind you, but you don’t really pay too much attention, watching as Charlie sets down the big black cat and lets five little kittens of all colors tumble out of the large clear cubicle they were in.

“Hello, Y/N.” Sweet Jesus, the man was everywhere. You turn, a smile already gracing your face.

“Hello, Castiel. What are you doing here?”

“He volunteers here! Ooooooh! So, you’re Y/N! Cas hasn’t shut up about you since you moved back!” She embraces you as heat fills your cheeks. “This is great! I wanted to meet you! Dean was talking about you too! How well you run the office! How cute you are!” Charlie releases you from her hold, her green eyes dancing as she chuckles, moving to sit cross legged on the floor next to Madeline. Madeline is too involved with the kittens to pay you much attention, she just turns with a white kitten clutched gently against her chest and calls out a hello to Cas before another gray kitten crawls into her lap, making itself at home and falling asleep as Madeline strokes it with her free hand. Cas stoops down in front of you, picking up an errant kitten.

“I apologize for Charlie. She is very,” He gives a long pause, “Enthusiastic.”

“No need to apologize. Gabriel and you had both mentioned Charlie, so I‘m glad to put a friendly face to the stories.”

“Is the black cat the mom?”

“No. Their mom died. She was trying to take care of her kittens and got hurt. They wouldn’t eat the first couple days until we brought Luna in.” She points to the large black cat who is sitting by your feet while a little black and white kitten is batting at her tail. “Luna adopted them and took care of them, showed them how to be good kitties. The little gray one in your lap usually sticks to her like glue. The other kittens are very indep - are you okay sweetie?” Charlie’s voice goes from forlorn to concerned.

Madeline looks up at you with watery eyes while Charlie’s have an edge of panic.

‘Like me and you, Mommy.’ You tear up too, nodding.

’Exactly like me and you, baby.’ You sign back and say aloud, to give Charlie and Cas a little context for the sudden emotional outburst.

“I suppose we can’t separate them then...”

“Really, Mommy?!” She scrubs at her eyes with her sleeve before carefully setting the white kitten down and throwing herself against you. Cas grasps your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. You hadn’t told Cas the story about you, Eileen and Madeline yet - you felt it was too soon. You had simply stated one day when he had come to the garage at lunch - for his regular Thursday lunch with Dean - that he was great with Madeline, maybe because of their similar backgrounds.

Charlie sniffles, rising from her seated position with a kind smile.

“If you follow me, we’ll fill out the paperwork and you can take Luna and your new kitten home. Have you thought of a name?” Charlie leads Madeline out, winking at you as the door closes behind her, Madeline’s arms holding the gray kitten and Charlie’s with Luna.

“I could go with you, if you like - to make sure the cats have everything they require. And then maybe we could all go to lunch?” His cheeks turn a light pink as he set the kitten he’d been holding onto a carpeted climbing post.

“I’d love to. We’d love to. And maybe you’d like to come over for dinner?”

“Like a date?”

“Yes, Castiel.”

“I’d love that. Maybe you would like to come over for Family Dinner Night tomorrow? The Winchesters and the Singers and us, we all have dinner Sunday night... Tomorrow we’re having it at our house. Would you consider coming?” You raise up, pressing your lips against his.

“Sounds good. Madeline already loves John, Dean, Bobby, Gabriel and you. I think it’d be nice for her to meet everyone else I grew up with.”

“As my girlfriend - uh, date - as my guests?”

“Let’s start with date. We can work our way up to boyfriend and girlfriend.” Cas swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing before his hands reach out, cupping your face and kissing you passionately.

“I’ve waited for a long time to do that again.”

“Mmhmm. You’ll have to work a little harder than last time to get to do the other thing though.” You grin against his lips, happily leaning against his firm body.

“I am nothing if not a patient man.” A firm knock on the glass pulls you from your little bubble. Madeline is pointing at you then at Cas, then to your feet. You pull away from Castiel and sign ’Yes’

’Luna and my kitten!’ Her fingers bob towards her hand as she looks to Castiel again. ‘Are you guys gonna kiss more?’

’Probably.’

’Gross.’

“She wants to sign the papers and pay so we can go.”

“And?” He rumbles out, moving away to carefully put the rest of the kittens back into their large cubicle.

“She asked if we were going to kiss more. I told her probably.”

“Just probably?”

“You play your cards right, it’ll be more than probably.”

Funny how life worked out.

#castiel x reader #castiel fluff #maybe a smidgeon of angst #authoressskr writes #I had a dream #castiel x reader au #domestic cas #teacher!cas #Eileen leahy #supernatural au #supernatural

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sinceileftyoublog · 6 years

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The Beths Interview: Looking Forward Looking Back

Photo by Mason Fairey

BY JORDAN MAINZER

Elizabeth Stokes is dry. This makes sense because, beneath its emotional and poppy surface, the songs of her band The Beths contain a mix of anxiety, realism, and humor. The New Zealand band--which consists of Stokes on lead vocals, guitar, and songwriting duties, bubbly guitarist Jonathan Pearce, bassist Benjamin Sinclair, and drummer Ivan Luketina-Johnston--studied jazz together at the University of Auckland but make music that’s about as far removed from jazz as you can get. Their debut EP Warm Blood and now debut full-length album Future Me Hates Me is certainly subtly radical and cheeky. Like a punk girl group if the backup singers were men, The Beths are an outlet for Stokes’ tales of navigating relationships as a young woman, ones that continue to prove that when you genuinely sing what you know, chances are others will relate. Made a decision you knew was bad but you couldn’t help it? Check out the title track. Ever casually wished harm upon an ex? There’s “Uptown Girl”. Do you often compare failing relationships to vapor? Okay, that one’s probably just Stokes, but her unique lyrical voice puts her on the same level as the listener.

Last month, over Skype, Stokes and Pearce talked to me about the beginnings of the band, making the album, and why even in their hometown they’re still on the edge between DIY and more mainstream. They played local DIY venue Charm School in June and play Beat Kitchen on October 5th. When I told them a little bit about the Beat Kitchen, including that they had food, both Stokes and Pearce simultaneously cheered. “When the venue has food, the sound person is really friendly and professional, that’s the trifecta,” Pearce said. Uncompromising yet grateful, it seems like The Beths are in a pretty good place.

Read the interview, edited for length and clarity, below.

Since I Left You: What, if anything, were you hopping to communicate to listeners with your debut full-length album?

Elizabeth Stokes: I guess we had done an EP, and that was when we made a lot of decisions about what kind of overall sound we were going for. With the album, we had a longer length of time to work with. I want to say that we had a really cohesive idea in mind, but I just wrote songs the way I normally do. Perhaps we were pushing for slightly different sounds, but the general sound we have feels solid.

SILY: One track from the Warm Blood EP--‘Whatever”--made it on to Future Me Hates Me. Why’d you choose that one, and were there any others you were considering putting on the album?

Jonathan Pearce: I think it felt pretty right just based on it already being a bit of a crowd favorite here in New Zealand. People were responding pretty well to it. And we weren’t sick of it! [laughs] We were like, “Yeah, great, let’s do it!” It felt good.

SILY: What’s the story behind the band name?

ES: There isn’t really one. It’s a band name. It’s got “The” in it, which I like because it usually means you’re a band. We just had to come up with a name. It’s my name, I guess.

SILY: Do you still like it?

ES: Yeah, it’s fine. I kind of feel bad that it’s hard to say in certain countries.

SILY: Beth is my mom’s name.

JP: The Queen’s name as well. The Queen of England--not your country.

SILY: The queen of our country just passed away--Aretha Franklin.

JP: Bless. So true.

SILY: One thing I thought was pretty clever was that when you first read the album title, it’s something that seems sad or depressing, but within the context of the title track, it comes across as a lot more intentional. Why did you title the album after that song and that part of that line?

ES: We couldn’t think of anything better. There’s something about it--a lot of the album is kind of about the element of mid-20′s anxiety you get about your decisions. You’re at a point where you can go down a lot of different directions and are like, “Is this right?” “Future me hates me” is not about future you looking back and hating you--it’s about present you being worried about what’s gonna happen down the road. For me, anyway, it’s ended up okay. I don’t think of it as being pessimistic. I think of that song as being an optimistic song.

SILY: You’ve talked about how you include some humor in your music. You don’t want the lyrics to be too earnest. Is there a time to be earnest and a time to not? What are those times?

ES: There’s absolutely a time to be earnest. It’s something I I feel comfortable doing to a point, but I feel like I am a person for whom when things get tense, I like to make a joke because I don’t know what else to do. It’s kind of like that. It takes a lot of effort for me to write something without poking fun at it at the same time.

SILY: Were you consciously trying to invert the typical girl group harmonies by having a female lead and male harmonies?

ES: We obviously decided to have male group harmonies. That particular thought wasn’t there at the start of the band, but once it came through that was the sound of the band, we thought, “That’s cool that it does that.”

SILY: Are you still influenced by jazz, from when you were in school or now?

ES: Musically, when it comes to writing, I’m not sure. The thing about jazz school is you listen to a lot of it and you end up practicing your instrument for hours and hours. You get real insight into music, which I liked. Giving it so much attention every day. Specifically jazz--there are things I can pick out about songwriting. There are a lot of standards I really like, and maybe that’s influenced it. There are things about it I specifically decided to not have influence me. I like to keep the harmonies simple and the structures contained. I don’t like bits to be jammy--stuff like that. [The Beths] isn’t very exploratory in terms of slowly exploring an idea. There’s very little improvisation. It’s more of a reaction to studying. But I did enjoy studying and learned a lot doing it, and it has influenced the way we make music now.

SILY: Do you still listen to jazz?

ES: Yeah, sometimes. Like anyone. It depends what mood you’re in.

SILY: What’s the story behind the album art?

ES: My friend Eleanor Barker paints with watercolor--this really lush, beautiful way with a lot of texture. I’ve just been a fan of hers. I asked her to consider making the album art. I didn’t really say anything, but I sent her the record, and she said, “I think I have an idea.” She just kind of started and showed me a sketch, and I said, “This is awesome.”

SILY: How, if at all, does the live performance of these songs differ from the record?

JP: It’s important to try and play them nice and fast. They’re quite fast. Sometimes, it’s difficult to play them fast, but we do try to play them fast. [laughs] We do all the harmonies--they’re not really studio creations, they’re us singing into the microphone. There’s no witchcraft. We try to do those well.

ES: There’s only a little bit of stuff on the recordings that’s a vocal effect or the occasional dub track or a harmony with myself. We arranged the songs across the room, then played and recorded them. It’s fairly close.

SILY: What else is next for you?

ES: We’re back home for the first little bit in a while. We’re doing some more touring of Australia and New Zealand. It feels like a nice homecoming. We’ve played in New Zealand for so long, and whenever anybody gets out, everybody’s super supportive. It’s been really nice to come home and feel like there’s some context to what’s happening when we’re away. Then, we’re again off to the States. We’re going to Europe next year. A lot of touring. I’ve been writing, so hopefully we’ll start the next record.

SILY: You played Charm School in June. How was that?

ES: That was cool. It happened to be one of the days we were super tired. But I’d heard a lot about the Chicago scene. When I was trying to book that show, I read about how it was really difficult for house venues to keep open. They’d been getting shut down by the police.

JP: What Charm School are doing is really courageous.

SILY: Do you prefer playing DIY spaces to clubs?

ES: I don’t know. I like both, really.

JP: You get a different experience from the audience’s point of view. I do love a DIY show. I love to feel intimate. But you can’t really see the band in their best light.

ES: The venues that we play, we’re not feeling super huge rooms, so when we’re playing a “real” venue, it’s not like we’re playing 1,000 people rooms where we feel removed. We’re playing 100 people rooms where there’s still a close connection. They don’t really feel that different.

SILY: Is there anything you’ve been listening to, reading, or watching lately that’s caught your attention?

JP: We heard the Snail Mail record the other day, and it was pretty amazing. It’s almost a little scary to listen to it because it’s so good. It’s gonna need time to sink in. It’s a very emotional record.

ES: We’re a bit late on it, but we do that quite a lot. When you hear something’s really good, I just wanna wait until I’m ready to engage.

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networkingdefinition · 5 years

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Lavender Quotes

Official Website: Lavender Quotes

• A rhododendron bud lavender-tipped. Soon a glory of blooms to clash with the cardinals and gladden the hummingbirds! – Dave Beard • Add a drop of lavender to milk, leave town with an orange, and pretend you’re laughing at it. – Bill Bailey • As a kid I’d play with homemade recipes, like putting pineapple on my face to exfoliate my skin and doing facial steams with lavender or peppermint oils. I just loved doing stuff like that. It’s what motivated me to launch my skin care line. – Demi Lovato • As far as what I do love, I love birds; I love lavender. – Michael Moore • Avoid men who call you Baby, and women who have no friends, and dogs that scratch at their bellies and refuse to lie down at your feet. Wear dark glasses; bathe with lavender oil and cool fresh water. Seek shelter from the sun at noon. – Alice Hoffman

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Lavender', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_lavender').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_lavender img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Before bed, I read a book or flip on the radio – I’m not picky, I’ll just turn it on and see what comes up. I burn a yummy lavender- scented candle. – Carrie Underwood • Blue is the insides of something mysterious and lonely. I’d look at fish and birds, thinking the sky and water colored them. The first abyss is blue. An artist must go beyond the mercy of satin or water-from a gutty hue to that which is close to royal purple. All seasons and blossoms inbetween. Lavender. Theatrical and outrageous electric. Almost gray. True and false blue. Water and oil. The gas jet breathing in oblivion. The unstruck match. The blue of absence. The blue of deep presence. The insides of something perfect. – Yusef Komunyakaa • Both Matilda and Lavender were enthralled. It was quite clear to them that they were at this moment standing in the presence of a master. Here was somebody who had brought the art of skulduggery to the highest point of perfection, somebody, moreover, who was willing to risk life and limb in pursuit of her calling. They gazed in wonder at this goddess, and suddenly even the boil on her nose was no longer a blemish but a badge of courage. – Roald Dahl • Bursts of gold on lavender melting into saffron. It’s the time of day when the sky looks like it has been spray-painted by a graffiti artist. – Mia Kirshner • But you, you foolish girl, you have gone home to a leaky castle across the sea to lie awake in linen smelling of lavender, and hear the nightingale, and long for me. – Edna St. Vincent Millay

[clickbank-storefront-bestselling] • Can I have a look at Uranus too, Lavender? – J. K. Rowling • Day after day we looked for rain, and day after day we saw nothing but the sun. Lavender that we had planted in the spring died. The patch of grass in front of the house abandoned its ambitions to become a lawn and turned into the dirty yellow of poor straw. The earth shrank, revealing its knuckles and bones, rocks and roots that had been invisible before. – Peter Mayle • Even talking, I’m super-loud. I could never have that kind of meek, little wispy whimsical lavender and lace voice. It comes from my body. There’s no way I can fight it. – Beth Ditto • Gay people do not fight for freedom to live in a lavender bubble, but in a more just society. – Urvashi Vaid • He domesticated and developed the native wild flowers. He had one hill-side solidly clad with that low-growing purple verbena which mats over the hills of New Mexico. It was like a great violet velvet mantle thrown down in the sun; all the shades that the dyers and weavers of Italy and France strove for through centuries, the violet that is full of rose colour and is yet not lavender; the blue that becomes almost pink and then retreats again into sea-dark purple—the true Episcopal colour and countless variations of it. – Willa Cather • Here’s flowers for you; Hot lavender, mints, savoury, marjoram; The marigold, that goes to bed wi’ the sun And with him rises weeping: these are flowers Of middle summer, and I think they are given To men of middle age. – William Shakespeare • Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram; The marigold, that goes to bed wi’ the sun, and with him rise weeping. – William Shakespeare • I love Thieves, it is therapeutic, if you’re not feeling well. It has a very strong scent but is quite wonderful. I also use lavender. Peppermint, when my stomach is upset. – Donna Karan • I love you, Hermione,” said Ron, sinking back, rubbing his eyes wearily. Hermione turned faintly pink, but merely said, “Don’t let Lavender hear you saying that.” “I won’t,” said Ron into his hands. “Or maybe I will . . . then she’ll ditch me . . . – J. K. Rowling • I put a drop of lavender essential oil on my pillow before I go to sleep. – Melissa Joan Hart • I saw Chungking for the first time more than 40 years ago – a city of hills and mists, of grays and lavenders, two rivers shaping it to a point and the cliff rising above me like a challenge. – Theodore White • I turned over, and those big hands got to work on my back. I stifled a whimper in the pillow, because Marco’s idea of a massage bore no resemblance whatsoever to the relaxing spa variety. There was no lavender oil, no soothing music, no hot towels. Just an all-out assault on cramped muscles, until they cowered in surrender and turned to Jell-O. – Karen Chance • If feeling anxious about anything Dr Bachs night time rescue remedy is great. Sometimes a bath before bed helps. Burning Lavender or Clary Sage in the room before retiring. Try not to work on my computer very late and then bed straight after. Getting enough exercise definitely helps sleep. – Rachel Ryan • If you had to choose an oil…it would have to be lavender essential oil, because it is antibacterial and antiviral. So, it’s great to have when people around you are sick; it can also be used to relax. – Karen Rose • it always seems to me as if the lavender was a little woman in a green dress, with a lavender bonnet and a white kerchief. She’s one of those strong, sweet, wholesome people, who always rest you, and her sweetness lingers long after she goes away. – Myrtle Reed • It is easy to forget now, how effervescent and free we all felt that summer. Everything fades: the shimmer of gold over White Cove; the laughter in the night air; the lavender early morning light on the faces of skyscrapers, which had suddenly become so heroically tall. Every dawn seemed to promise fresh miracles, among other joys that are in short supply these days. And so I will try to tell you, while I still remember, how it was then, before everything changed-that final season of the era that roared. – Anna Godbersen • It was our favorite part of the day, this in-between time, and it always seemed to last longer than it should–a magic and lavender space unpinned from the hours around it, between worlds. – Paula McLain • Lavender is the new pink. I’ll never stop wearing pink but I wanted to venture out. – Nicki Minaj • London life was very full and exciting […] But in London there would be no greenhouse with a glossy tank, and no apple-room, and no potting-shed, earthy and warm, with bunches of poppy heads hanging from the ceiling, and sunflower seeds in a wooden box, and bulbs in thick paper bags, and hanks of tarred string, and lavender drying on a tea-tray. – Sylvia Townsend Warner • Look, why don’t you go talk to Ron about all this?” Harry asked. “Well, I would, but he’s always asleep when I go and see him!” said Lavender fretfully. “Is he?” said Harry, surprised, for he had found Ron perfectly alert every time he had been up to the hospital wing. – J. K. Rowling • My favorite name for a color is “puce.” It’s kind of a dried blood color. It’s a hideous color. But I love the word. It’s so euphonic. But my favorite colors are lavender, purple, periwinkle blue, and white. – Elizabeth Taylor • Oils of cinnamon and eucalyptus are as powerful against some microorganisms as conventional antibiotics, and are especially effective against flus. Sandalwood oil from Mysore, India, is not only a classic perfume oil but is also a traditional remedy for sore throats and laryngitis. Lavender oil, so often used in toilet waters and scented sachets, has a dramatic healing action on burns. – Robert Tisserand • One trick I swear by: I pour a little neroli or lavender oil onto a hot towel and use it to wipe off my makeup. It opens up my pores, and then my face cream sinks in better. – Courteney Cox • The air was fragrant with a thousand trodden aromatic herbs, with fields of lavender, and with the brightest roses blushing in tufts all over the meadows. – William C. Bryant • The raindrops played across the coast all through the night, until the soft new day shrugged itself awake, tried on amethyst and lavender for a while, and finally decided on pale yellow. – Gary D. Schmidt • The scent organ was playing a delightfully refreshing Herbal Capriccio – rippling arpeggios of thyme and lavender, of rosemary, basil, myrtle, tarragon; a series of daring modulations through the spice keys into ambergris; and a slow return through sandalwood, camphor, cedar and newmown hay (with occasional subtle touches of discord – a whiff of kidney pudding, the faintest suspicion of pig’s dung) back to the simple aromatics with which the piece began. The final blast of thyme died away; there was a round of applause; the lights went up. – Aldous Huxley • There are some things, after all, that Sally Owens knows for certain: Always throw spilled salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Add pepper to your mashed potatoes. Plant roses and lavender, for luck. Fall in love whenever you can. – Alice Hoffman • To make a perfume, take some rose water and wash your hands in it, then take a lavender flower and rub it with your palms, and you will achieve the desired effect. – Leonardo da Vinci • Valentine’s Day money-saving tips: Break up on February 13th, get back together on the 15th. In place of bubble bath, use lavender-scented dish-washing liquid. Forget rose petals. Sprinkle the bed with sliced beets! – David Letterman • We lavender folk spray up, spontaneously flowering in the color we had learned as an identifying mark of our culture when it was subterranean and secret. – Judy Grahn • What a turnaround in sentiment ‘Glee’ exemplifies. It was only a few years ago that pursuing the dream of a Broadway career or cabaret stardom relegated some poor yearning dope to a lavender ghetto of losers, self-deluders, and social rejects. – James Wolcott • What woman, however old, has not the bridal-favours and raiment stowed away, and packed in lavender, in the inmost cupboards of her heart? – William Makepeace Thackeray • When hope is fleeting, stop for a moment and visualize, in a sky of silver, the crescent of a lavender moon. Imagine it — delicate, slim, precise, like a paper-thin slice from a cabochon jewel. It may not be very useful, but it is beautiful. And sometimes it is enough. – Vera Nazarian • When the light turns green, you go. When the light turns red, you stop. But what do you do when the light turns blue with orange and lavender spots? – Shel Silverstein • With this recitation of paraphernalia and detritus, O’Brien manages to encapsulate the experience of an army and of a particular war, of a mined and booby-trapped landscape, of cold nights and hot days, of soaking monsoons and rice paddies, and of the possibility of being shot, like Ted Lavender, suddenly and out of nowhere: not only in the middle of a sentence but in the midst of a subordinate clause. – Francine Prose • Womanist is to feminist as purple is to lavender. – Alice Walker • Yours is… il sent comme lavande.” Is that French for ‘You stink’?” It means ‘lavender’.” Huh.” She sniffed at her wrist. “I thought I smelled more like a grape Popsicle. – Lynn Viehl

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jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'i', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_i').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_i img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'o', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_o').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_o img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'u', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_u').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_u img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

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equitiesstocks · 5 years

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Lavender Quotes

Official Website: Lavender Quotes

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