#marshal is the lanky one

[goobygnarp]

Been outta town and started to sketch on my phone. Made some fun puppets.

Good portion of them are aliens.

[second-axis-point]

I just read this fic called “secondhand high” by nightwideopen on ao3 (please go read it 😉) It was a dincobb fic and it has me in a diabolical chokehold. Do you think you could do something similar with male reader in place of Cobb?

Pairing: Din Djarin x Male!Reader

Warnings: Smoking?

Content: Touch starved!Din, Fluff, Din being generally soft

I absolutely LOVED this fic. Space stoner Cobb has me barking like a dog 🐕‍Thank you for THIS request 🧎‍♂️

First Time for Everything

You had been almost giddy when Cobb had handed you a pack of cigarras. You hadn’t had time to smoke after joining the Mandalorian as his partner and mechanic. Din saw you beaming like the suns, watching you walk back to the small hut the both of you were sharing while on Tatooine. The good Marshal had allowed you to stay in Freetown for as long as you wanted as long as you were okay with sharing.

“What are you so happy about?”

Din kept his tone light. You held up the pack and shook it.

“Got my hands on these.”

You moved through the hut to the back porch while Din followed. You sat back in one of the chairs, laying your head against the wall, and turned your attention to the setting suns. He had already taken off most of his armour, leaving him in his under armour and his helmet. He sat down in the chair next to you and watched as well, only looking away when he heard you digging through the bag.

“Where did you even get those?”

He asked you.

“Our favourite lanky Marshal just happened to come across a few of these. He also just so happened to be in the sharing mood.”

You used to live on Tatooine a while back and you've smoked with Cobb a few times. A lazy smile found its way back onto your face thinking back on fond memories.

“You want one?”

You offered a cigarra to the Mando next to you.

“I can’t really um-”

He cut himself off and awkwardly pointed back towards his helmet. You felt like an idiot.

“Oh shit right. I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and chuckled, the awkwardness dissipating quickly. You retracted your hand and moved your attention back towards the suns. You rifled through your pocket and pulled out your lighter. You place the cigarra into your mouth and light it. Din watches carefully. He watches your fingers as they wrap around the cigarra. He watches your chest rise as you take a long drag. He notices that you turn your head away when you exhale, making sure you blow it away from him. 

The way your body relaxes make him want to take the ciggara from your lips and replace it with himself. The light from the suns made you glow. You looked almost angelic. Rugged and handsome in the setting suns. Once you finished and put it out, you noticed him looking at you and turned your head.

“What’s going on inside that head of yours, Mando?”

Your voice cut through his thoughts, snapping him back to reality. 

“You could have one, I have no problem sharing. I could step inside.”

He appreciated the gesture.

“I would but-”

He cut himself off once again.

“I’ve never actually smoked anything before.”

He looked away, not wanting to face you while you made fun of him. But you didn’t. You hummed quietly and thought for a second.

“I could help you if you want.”

He turned back to you, surprised.

“I can’t take my helmet off.”

You nod.

“I could close my eyes or we could find a blindfold. You don’t have to obviously, but if you do, I have no problem helping you out.”

Din didn’t know how you would help but the way you were smiling at him made him not care quite as much. 

“Alright.”

He nodded, feeling a bit of anxiousness nibble on the very back of his consciousness.

“It’s alright Din, you don’t have to.”

You reminded him, sensing the nervousness in his posture, as you got up to search for something to use as a blindfold.

“No, I want to.”

Seemingly satisfied with his answer, you head back into the hut. You finally find a good piece of cloth to cover your eyes and walk back outside. Din was still sitting, stiff in his chair. You brush your hand on his shoulder as you move next to him.

“Hey, relax. It’s alright.”

You saw him visibly release the tension that was sitting tight in his shoulders, his back hunching slightly. You didn’t sit in the chair, instead you moved it away from the wall and sat down on the wood of the porch. You motioned for Din to do the same. Once he was sitting next to you, you shifted so that you were cross-legged in front of him.

You pulled out another cigarra from the pack and lit it. You grabbed Din’s hand and placed it in his grasp. You pick the cloth back up and tie it tightly around the back of your head. You hold your hand out and he gives the stick back to you. You listen to the slight rustle as he takes his helmet off and places it on the wood next to him.

“Ready?”

You ask him. You were actually a bit excited. You’ve had a weird thing going on with Din for a while. This was the farthest you’ve ever gotten with the Mandalorian.

“I’m not really sure what to do.”

He admits quietly, his voice no longer filtered by the modulator.

“That’s alright.”

A soft smile slid onto your face.

“Just take a deep breath, okay?”

You kept your voice quiet, not wanting to sound forceful or startling.

“Okay.”

Din watches as you bring the cigarra to your lips and take a long drag. His hands shake slightly as he watches you bring a hand up to his cheek and pull him closer. Deep breath. Deep breath. Deep breath. He reminds himself over and over as you lean in. You start exhaling slowly as Din breathes in. His chest is buzzing and his mind is swimming and he’s almost positive it’s not due to the weed. He feels like his whole face is vibrating. Once you start to pull away, he breathes out. It was a lot easier than he thought it was going to be, only coughing slightly.

“You okay Mando?”

You move your hand down to his shoulder. Din’s mind went almost completely blank. The only thing he could think of was how close you had been.

“Can you do that again?”

He asked as soon as the words left your mouth. You looked surprised for a split second before giving him an answer.

“Of course.”

You, once again, took a long drag and ran your hand back up to his face. Only this time, Din did the same. He put both of his hands on either side of your face and pulled you in. His eagerness caused a warmth to radiate up your spine. He pulled you in much closer than before, your lips brushing slightly, almost making you forget to breathe out. But you did. You felt Din breathe out and he didn’t cough this time. Before you could lean back, he closed the distance in between you.

His lips were soft on yours and his hands were brushing across your face. Your cheeks felt hot and you could focus on nothing but the man in front of you. You licked his bottom lip, asking for permission. He opened his mouth and you explored it eagerly. He was the first to pull back, not stopping you as you nibbled down his neck and under his jaw. You revelled in the whine he gave once you pulled away. You both were breathing heavily and his hands were still on your chest. You realised that he was pretty much in your lap.

“What do you think, Din?”

You asked him before bringing the cigarra back to your mouth. He hummed and you felt his eyes on you as you breathed out. He watched the smoke leave your lips as he caught his breath.

“One more.”

Was all he said when you moved to put the cigarra out. You laughed and obliged. This time, he took it from you. You listened to him inhale and felt as his hands ran up your chest and onto your face once again. You opened your mouth and inhaled. His lips were on yours once again and you breathed out of your nose. Din put the cigarra out and climbed fully into your lap. The rest of the night was full of intermittent make-out sessions and teasing.

The next day you walked into the cantina, Cobb saw your laidback posture and waved you over. Once you got closer, he saw the hickies and small bites on your neck. He tossed his head back and laughed at your goofy smile.

“What the hell happened to you? I’ve never seen weed do that before.”

He nudged you with his elbow and ordered you a drink.

“Can’t thank you enough. I gotta drop by here more often.”

You thanked him and took a sip of the drink.

“Well, you and your Mandalorian are always welcome in Freetown, partner.”

Cobb winked, clasped you on the back, and moved to go talk to the other patrons. Your Mandalorian. You could get used to that.

[starfacedstudio]

did these back in june to prep for artfight and forgot to share! >:D

Image ID: Four pages of colored sketches depicting different characters in various outfits! Images share the text "Alt Outfits" and "*All clothing colors can be changed or shifted, and the clothing pieces can be swapped with eachother! Or put em in other outfits idc." Characters depicted are as follows: Top Left: Cinnamon, a short pink-red cyclops with four arms and horns, whose outfits vary from casual (t-shirts, flannels, swimtrunks, winter gear) to formal (sparkly vest, dress shirt with suspenders). Colors are purple, yellow, red/pink, or black! Top Right: Mandy, an orange cyclops with freckles and curly hair with a generally casual style in blues and oranges. Features a work outfit, two formal outfits (dress and suit), and two seasonal outfits for autumn or summer! Bottom Left: Butterscotch, a lanky teal/blue cyclops with butterfly ears and black curly hair. She has casual, loose-fitting clothes (patterned shirts, loose pants) in muted colors. She has one outfit with a sparkly green jacket and matching eyeshadow! Bottom Right: Marshal, a white-furred cyclops with blue eyes and dyed hairtips. Leans heavily casual with a lot of long sleeves/pant legs. Includes a hoodie, leather jacket, blue flannel, and a t-shirt. Generally purple with hints of orange, pink, and cyan. End ID.

[barbiewritesstuff]

Church Encounters: Chapter 9

-- We've tried adding a translation with the Italian while keeping it fairly natural, don't know if it works but we'll do better next time for sure .

This fic was written in collaboration with @Igg5989, she has also made the lively moodboard you see pictured here and will be posting this fic on her tumblr and her AO3

Please leave a comment or reblog, we appreciate all feedback :)

Previous Part

Taglist: @acarboni21 @unsurebuttrying @dempy @peaches-1998 @bbooks-and-teas @Roosterscock --

Jake didn’t usually help with the teens but Bob had convinced him a few weeks after Christmas that it wouldn’t be bad. His only experience was with three to seven year olds, even at home, so now that he was sitting with the sixteen years olds he found he didn’t really know what to say. He couldn’t really ask what their mummy and daddy did for work, or if they had learned any cool dinosaur facts at school, or even if they had learned any fun things in Sunday school. Jake was feeling way out of his depth. The campfire had been a good idea, the country boy inside him was satisfied, but that didn’t help that the few months of planning felt like a waste now that he was here. 

It felt like being back in highschool. The kids were all talking amongst themselves, in cliques and groups, it was the same type of gossip too. Who was dating who, who was breaking up, did you hear what Patricia said to Joan, I heard Millie’s parents are getting divorced. Really, the entire thing was making him panic. 

Jake desperately wanted to take a walk and shake off the feeling, but the rational part of his brain, the one that was keeping him firmly seated on the uncomfortable log next to Bob, was reminding him that he was in his thirties now, he was an adult. It didn’t really do much to make him feel better.

“You okay, man?” Bob’s youth ministering partner asked, he was a lanky dude with a goatee and an uncanny resemblance to Shaggy from Scooby Doo. Jake didn’t know his name, the man had been way too absorbed by playing the bongos by himself for most of the evening to bother with introductions. 

“I feel like I’m back at school again,” Jake said, taking a swig from his bottle of coke. One thing had changed since High School at least, his taste buds had stopped liking sugary drinks. 

“I getcha, man,” the man replied, “I’m Freddie,” he added, sticking out his hand for Jake to shake, “though I can’t see why you wouldn’t like high school.” 

Jake snorted. Where to begin, really? He hadn’t always been big and muscular, that was the result of a pretty drastic lifestyle change when he entered basic training. Jake had been awkwardly long and lanky for most of his life, coupled with a few unfortunate hairstyles and the ability to somehow turn every conversation into talking about the Lord, teenage Jake Seresin had been less than popular.

He’d started being mean on purpose then, a skill he now exercised liberally as a sort of shield he regretted having developed at all. Still, the Seresin charm eventually appeared and things started to look up in senior year. Despite his brand new friends, he’d never managed to shake that strange awkwardness and defensive aggressivity about him. 

“I liked leaving highschool,” Jake replied, knowing it cleared nothing up and unwilling to expand.

One of the kids snorted, “I don’t believe that,” he said, “You seem like the kind of guy who’d have dated the cheer captain or something,” he added. 

“Don’t pay him any mind,” Freddie said, “He’s going through his first big boy breakup.”

Freddie had said it in such a mocking way that Jake found himself disliking the man even before the sentence was finished.

“That sucks, kid, I’m sorry. Trust me, I know what it feels like,” Jake said.

The kid looked at him for a second, “You do?”

“Sure,” Jake smiled, “What’s your name?”

“Peter Marshall,” the kid replied.

“Well, Peter Marshall, my first ‘big boy breakup’ was with a girl called Stacey Callahan. We met at my cousin’s weekly Dungeons and Dragons night and we dated for all of senior year. Like all teens, I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with her. I thought we were going to go to college with her, get married, buy a house, have 2.5 kids, you know. The whole nine yards. And then, the day before we were leaving for college, I found out she was cheating on me with my cousin. I think I cried for a whole week straight,” Jake said his best adult voice. 

“Stacey Callahan is a bitch,” Peter concluded, Jake nodded.

“True. But if I hadn’t gone out with Stacey Callahan I wouldn’t have met my girlfriend,” Jake continued, “When I finished crying, I prayed for a while. I really spoke about everything with the Lord, talked about the things I hadn’t updated him on while I was busy with Stacey. Asked him to forgive me for missing church a few times… You know. In the end I also asked him for guidance.” 

“A week later, as I’m still unpacking boxes in my college dorm room, I find that my grandmother has packed me a memory box of my grandfather’s stuff. In that box there’s a pack of letters from my grandfather. He described what it was like to fly and it resonated in me so much that I signed up for the Navy the next day. If I had been with Stacey, I’m sure she’d have talked me out of it. But I signed up for the Navy, went to Top Gun and then I met my girlfriend. She’s everything I have ever prayed for,” Jake finished quietly. He hadn't confessed that to many people. 

Peter considered him for a moment before asking, “Do you think that she was sent to you?” 

Jake let out a laugh, “I don’t know what I did to deserve her but yes, I think she was. But you have to remember that the Lord makes things happen in His own time. I had to wait a few years before I got her, but there was a reason for that, I just don’t know it.” 

“Do you think that you ever will?” he asked Jake. 

It was Jake’s turn to think for a moment, “No, but I don’t think I need to. We need to trust that the Lord has a plan for us, and he will reward our faithfulness and devotion to him with what we need when we need it.” 

Peter nodded. Jake gave him a kind smile before standing up, “Who’s ready for s’mores?”

Jake and Bob made their way to his truck, grabbing the s’mores stuff from the back seat. Before they rejoined the group around the campfire, Jake asked, “You don’t think that was too much do you?”

“Nah, I think you gave him some good stuff to think about. Maybe he will pray on it too,” Bob said, patting Jake on the back, “At least I know you gave me some stuff to pray about.” 

Jake grabbed Bob’s shoulder, “Hey man, I know you’ve had an eye on Maria, and I’m happy for you, just treat her right, okay?”

Jake saw a tint of red come over Bob’s cheeks, “Yeah, I have no doubt that she wouldn’t stand for anything less.” 

“Alright then,” Jake said, “Let’s get these kids some s’mores before their parents come.” 

Bob busied himself distributing the ingredients, and giving each kid a plate and a napkin while Jake stoked the fire. When he sat back down on the log, Jake found that Peter had moved to sit next to him. 

“Can I ask a question?” he asked, his voice sounding a little apprehensive. When Jake nodded, Peter took a deep breath in, “How do I pray? -- I mean I know how to pray, and like, I know the types of prayer but I mean, you know, how do I pray?”

“You’re going to have to be a little clearer,” Jake said. Peter smiled a little.

“You said that your girl was everything you prayed for. I pray everyday: I pray the rosary, I pray the Our Father, I try to talk to the Lord but I don’t know if I’m doing it right,” Peter explained.

Jake was quiet for a minute, thinking his answer through, “Well, the rosary is great, and the Our Father is too, but I think you’re looking at it wrong. You’re looking at prayer like it’s something on your to do list, talking to the Good Lord is more something that needs to be on a schedule, like -- err -- meeting a friend for coffee. Next time you try and sit down with God, maybe look at it like updating your dad on your life, you know? Like you tell him what you’ve been doing, how you’ve been doing. You talk to him about your plans, your hopes, your dreams and what you’re scared of. Just be casual if you have to, you know, just as long as you get the words out. I know some people who write down prayers if they can’t say them, there’s no wrong way, I don’t think. Just make sure that you tell him you love him, you know? Like you’d tell your dad. Tell him you love him and that you’re grateful for the life you have. The Lord put a lot of work into making your life perfect for you, it’s important we let him know we appreciate it.”

Peter was quiet for a moment, drinking in the conversation. Next to Jake, Bob had picked up his guitar. He had put it on his knee, one arm ready to tune the strings, but he hadn’t moved while Jake spoke. Jake felt himself grow self conscious. 

“Maybe -- err -- maybe Bob or Freddie can give a different opinion?” He stuttered out. 

Freddie opened his mouth, but Bob interrupted, “No, I think you explained it very well,” he said, giving Jake a smile.

“It was very genuine,” Peter said, looking at him, “You’re good at this. You’re good at speaking about the Lord and helping people find their ways.”

Jake nodded, “I wanted to be a priest when I was little. I figured learning how to speak was a good idea,” he explained.

“I mean yeah, but that was -- you can’t learn how to find the right words. That’s just you,” Bob said, gently patting his back.

“Was that before Stacey Callahan?” Peter asked, Jake nodded with a shy smile, “So, when you signed up for the navy, being a youth minister was kind of your backup plan?” Peter questioned.

“No. When I signed up for the navy, I figured I had left that all behind, but then I went to Top Gun, managed to piss everyone off and made a grand total of one friend. I was just really lonely, so I went to church on a random Tuesday at like, eleven pm and I was expecting to find it closed. But when I pushed the door, the lock gave way and the door opened. I just kind of walked in and kneeled in front of the altar and prayed for a while.” Jake explained, “Then, I felt a hand on my shoulder and I just about jumped out of my skin, when I turned around Father John was just standing there. I think he thought I was drunk or something, but I stood up, explained everything and told him I was missing home. Halfway through he interrupted me and asked if I wanted to be a youth minister, he thought it would suit me. I said yes and here I am now.”

“Peter’s right, you do know how to tell a story,” one of the girls asked. Jake had felt them looking at him from their log for the entirety of his conversation with Peter. “Why don’t you do the abstinence talk? I bet we’d understand things so much more,” she added. 

Bob had chosen that very unfortunate moment to be drinking from his coke. As soon as she spoke, a laugh came out of his throat and made him choke on the soda, Jake patted him on the back, trying to hide his deer-in-the-headlights look.

“Yeah, Jake,” Bob coughed, “Why don’t you do the talk about abstinence?”

----

The mess hall was booming with people excitedly chatting about the family day that was about to start. With five minutes left to wait on the clock, phones were starting to ring and buzz and siblings had started flocking together. Fanboy had found his sister and had dragged her away from her own friends to join his. Vegas had been dragged away by her brother and Harvard and his brothers had decided to meet in the middle and commandeer a separate table so the four of them could chat and wait. Eventually though, they all joined your table and soon enough, everyone was yelling over everyone else trying to get themselves heard.

“I would appreciate it if you kept the noise down,” Admiral Simpson spoke, his stern voice cutting right through the excitement, “Captain Mitchell, keep your students under control,” he added. Maverick nodded quietly with the facial expression of a man who had no intention of doing what he was told. 

“Dove, Lieutenant Floyd, you seem to be the only ones here not screaming. Help Captain Mitchell keep it down,” he added, shooting you and Bob a look.

“Yeah, sure thing Dad,” you said with a laugh as Bob chuckled into his drink, knowing very well that nothing anyone could say would keep this bunch calm. If family day hadn’t excited them to that point, the seventeen disposable cups of coffee currently littering the table would be enough to cause a commotion. 

It took a second for it to dawn on you but as soon as you had finished your sentence the table had gone quiet.

“Did you just call Admiral Simpson dad?” Vegas snorted. 

The table roared with laughter at your mistake, only Jake and Bob remained serious. You felt a deep blush creep up your face, turning you a lovely shade of fuschia. Seeing your embarrassment, Cyclone decided to step in.

“Your sister’s called, they’ll be late. Although I don’t know why they bother to warn us, I swear Annie would show up late to her own funeral,” he said.

“Wait,” Fanboy said, the smile that had been plastered on his face slowly sliding off, “Are you serious? Is Cyclone your dad?”

“Admiral Simpson, Lieutenant Garcia. And yes, we are serious. Now keep it down,” he said, shooting you a wink, and patting Bob on the back as a goodbye gesture. In the distance you could see Cyclone removing the phone from his back pocket.

Dadclone: Hope they don’t give you too much shit for this…

You could see him standing by the vending machine, pushing a coin into the slot and punching in some numbers, a mischievous smirk plastered on his face. 

‘Bullshit, you live for this,’ you texted back.

Cyclone moved away from the vending machine to stand in the queue for a coffee. He picked up two cups and filled one with black coffee, the other he filled up to the halfway mark and poured milk in to make up the rest. He typed a text with one hand as he fitted the lids on top of the cups.

Dadclone: Watch your language.

Dadclone: (You are right, I live for this)

You let out a chuckle.

‘You evil evil man,’ you replied.

Dadclone: :’)

Dadclone: It’s my revenge for that stupid music set. Just so you know, Elisabeth has already lost a third of it.

Dadclone: Accidentally of course.

‘Of course.’

Cyclone was making his way back to your table. Without saying a word he deposited the two cups of coffee in front of you and Bob, keeping the double decker chocolate bar for himself. Leaving you in the aftermath of his kind gesture with a shit eating grin on his face. Once he had disappeared back into the corridor, your phone buzzed again.

Dadclone: I like being your dad.

The table had been eerily quiet up until that point. Bob raised up the coffee cup to his lips and winced at the boiling hot liquid. On the table, you could see him tapping three of his fingers. He removed a finger, winking at you as you picked up your own coffee and sipped. As his last finger disappeared, Rooster opened his mouth.

“Wow, Hangman… Admiral’s daughter, huh?” Bradley laughed, easing the tension around the table. A few still exchanged nervous glances and Halo looked stupefied, but most had returned to their conversations.

“In my defence, I didn’t know until after Christmas,” Jake replied, shooting you a wink. 

“I spent so many evenings telling you what a hot piece of ass I thought that man was and NEVER did you think to mention he was your DAD?!” Halo shouted so loud that half the mess hall turned to look around. Phoenix choked on her coffee and Coyote patted her back.

“Awww, Halo has a cruush” Fanboy sang, “Halo and Cyclone sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G”

“Leave me alone. There’s nothing wrong with liking older guys,” she said, offended by their teasing. When the boys laughed at her statement, she added, “Why are you fixating on that when he clearly seemed familiar with Bob too. I mean, he gave him a coffee.” 

“I -- maybe -- there’s nothing weird about bringing me a coffee… ‘t’s just a nice gesture,” Bob said, getting quieter as the sentence went on.

Fanboy turned towards him, “No, actually it’s totally not normal. Spill, are you like his kid too,” he joked. Bob thought about it for a moment and Fanboy groaned, hanging his head low.

“I have used too many insults to describe that man around you in the last three years…” he lamented, “You could have just told me, or y’know, asked me to stop, dropped a hint, just give me any indication that saying Cyclone had a stick so far up his ass that he could probably taste it was not a good idea…” 

“Hey man, it’s alright, you didn’t know,” Bob said, trying to make him feel better. 

At that moment Maverick called through the mess hall, “Alright everyone, let's get out to the hanger, they’re about to let people in.” 

When the clock ticked eleven people began streaming through the bases’ gates. The team stood in front of the hangar with Maverick, waiting to be spotted. Penny and Amelia were the first to make their way. Harvard’s family joined them in second, followed by Coyote’s, Halo’s, Yale’s and then, Phoenix’s. Chatter filled the echoing space, making it seem much more crowded than it actually was. 

“I’m going to get some fresh air,” you told Jake, who was deep in conversation with Coyote. He smiled at you in acknowledgement. 

You found an overturned metal box to sit on, not wanting to get your uniform dirty. 

San Diego had been unusually rainy for the past two weeks, soaking everything in a coat of mud and watermarks. But today, as if the sky had known about family day on base, the clouds had vanished to make way for a beautiful blue sky, golden sun and warm temperature. The only reminder of the almost constant storm left were the puddles yet to dry on the tarmac. 

“Got room for one more?” Bob asked, gently pushing you to the side of your box so he could keep himself dry too. 

“Maria is coming,” you said.

Bob turned away from you slightly so you wouldn’t catch his smile, “I know. She texted me, we’re going on a date tonight,” he said, forgetting to hide his grin, “You sure Jake doesn’t have a problem with it?” Bob asked, with worry in his tone.

Jake had gone through stages. At first he had been accepting, then, after a week, he had grown crabby at the thought of his baby sister possibly dating one of his friends, and now, he had turned right around to be accepting. You knew though, that deep down, Jake was excited about having Bob as a brother. 

“No,” you said, “he’s happy for you. He knows you’ll treat Maria right, and he knows that if you don’t Maria will be more than happy to set you straight,” you added. Bob chuckled a little.

“Speaking of, I think that’s them, isn’t it?” he said, pointing towards a group of people now making their way to hangar six. Even in the distance, you could see Isabella’s exasperated facial expression and Tony’s shit eating grin. 

Maria waved at you and you waved back, next to you, Bob jumped up from his seat and dusted off his uniform with a deep exhale. He looked at you with a smile, “I have it bad, right?”

“I don’t think you’ll recover,” you joked as Jake’s family steadily approached. They were now only a few feet away. 

“Y/n , it is so good to see you!” Isabella said, kissing your cheeks before moving on to Bob, “Where is my son?” she asked.

Jake stepped out of the hangar behind her as soon as he heard her voice. Despite having excused himself from whatever conversation he had been engaged in inside, Coyote and Fanboy had followed him out. Jake hadn’t invited anyone to family day before and everyone was curious to know the people responsible for Hangman. You could see in their faces that they hadn’t expected Isabella and Giovanni, however. 

“I’m here. I’m here --” Jake started.

“Pensavo di averti cresciuto meglio! Smetti di rispondere a tua madre!” Isabella chastised him, clearly upset Jake had turned off his phone. 

“Il mio telefono ha esaurito la batteria,” Jake lied. When he caught your eye, he winked, you knew damn well his phone hadn’t died, "Buongiorno" he told everyone. 

“Ci presenti i tuoi amici?” Tony asked, nodding towards Fanboy and Coyote who had now been joined by Rooster and Maverick. They too seemed to be waiting for an introduction.

“Sure. Can we switch back to english?” Jake said, sounding a little annoyed at the show his family was putting on. 

Giovanni huffed, “Come mai? L'italiano non ti basta adesso? Stai diventando un americano?” his voice had been meant as a joking jab, you’re sure, but there was real venom in the words, ‘Italian not good enough for you? Are you becoming American?’

Jake rolled his eyes, ignoring his father’s outraged questions, “This is Fanboy,” he tapped the man on his shoulder, Mickey waved a little, “This is Coyote, he’s my friend from the academy,” Javi nodded slightly, “This is Rooster,” he turned towards Tony, “guarda quei ridicoli baffi.”

“Hey!” Rooster exclaimed at Jake’s jab, “Watch what you’re saying, I do speak Italian. And my moustache is classy, not ridiculous. ”

“You speak Italian?” Jake asked, surprised. 

“Yeah I was stationed in Rome for a year after Top Gun,” Rooster explained, “I picked up some of the language.” he shrugged. Jake looked a little impressed. 

“This is Maverick,” he said, pointing at the instructor standing next to Rooster, “Do you speak Italian?” he asked, when Mav shook his head, he turned back to his family, “E quello che ho buttato fuori dal bar,” he said towards Tony. He’d told the story of throwing Mav out of the bar a million times by now and it never failed to make others laugh. Tony tried to hold in a smile.

“It’s not the full team, but everyone else is busy. We might see them later though,” Jake concluded, “Now, what are you doing here. I don’t remember inviting you,” he told Tony.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot, Jake Seresin is too cool for his family. First you renounce Italian, now your brother… What’s next? The Catholic church?” Tony replied, earning himself some shocked gasps from his wife and mother and a sharp pinch on the arm from his father.

“Non scherziamo su cose del genere,” Giovanni Senior growled menacingly. Jake looked at his brother for a moment as Tony tried to evade his gaze. Implying a rejection of the Catholic church was almost a death sentence for the Seresins, which Tony wouldn’t even think of doing under normal circumstances. Jake narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“What are you hiding?” Jake asked. Everyone turned around to look at Tony. He’d never been good under stress, you had seen it when the boys had played poker at Christmas. Tony had a tick, whenever he bluffed, or someone asked something that made him uncomfortable, his eyebrow twitched. You saw the concentration in Tony’s face as he desperately tried to control the muscle.

He was saved from his involuntary muscle spasm when Annie shouted your name, her long blonde hair flowing in the wind as she ran towards you, and Audrey hot on her heels. You detached yourself from the group and joined them halfway. 

“Oh my God, I have missed you so much!” she exclaimed, grabbing your face in both of her hands and kissing your forehead, “Look at you! You look gorgeous!” 

Annie engulfed you in a bone breaking hug, “Annie, let her breathe for a moment,” Audrey said, engulfing you in her own arms as soon as her eldest sister let go. 

“I thought I heard a noise!” Cyclone’s voice rang behind you, “How is it that in a base full of people, I can only hear you?” he joked.

“It’s because you love us. Your ears are trained to recognise our voices,” Annie joked, hugging him tightly, this time Audrey didn’t wait for her sister to let go before hugging too. 

“I do love you, you are right.” he said, hugging back, “So, have you two met Y/n’s boyfriend yet, or will this be the first time?”

“We briefly met on the phone,” Jake replied for them, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, “Ladies, it is a pleasure to finally meet in person.”

“Huh,” Annie said, “I thought you’d be taller.”

“Yeah, I’m the runt of the litter,” he joked, nodding back to Tony and Giovanni who were standing there talking to Maverick, towering over everyone else, “I make up for it in humour though,” he said, earning himself an approving smile off of Audrey.

“Well, it’s lovely to meet you too. You really should introduce her to your friend, she might lighten up a little,” Audrey laughed while Annie rolled her eyes, “It would be good for you. You wouldn’t smother me as much,” she turned towards you, “She tried tying my shoelaces for me this morning.”

Audrey put down her handbag and took off her scarf, swinging it over Cyclone’s shoulder before taking off her coat and folding it into her bag.

“I work in a nursery, it’s a habit,” Annie defended herself, “But please do introduce me to your friend,” she asked Jake, a hint of desperation in her voice.

“Now, which friend are we talking about?” Cyclone interjected, placing a protective arm over Annie and Audrey’s shoulders.

“Rooster,” you and Jake answered simultaneously. Cyclone paused for a minute. He looked at Bradley and then at Annie, “I can see it,” he said.

“Girls, as much as I would love to show you around with Y/n, I have some work to do. I won’t be free today. Maybe we can grab a coffee tomorrow and catch up?” he added.

“Sure,” you agreed, turning away to walk back to the hangar, “Come on, I’ll show you my plane.” 

Cyclone had already walked away when Audrey realised he had taken her scarf with him. “Admiral,” she screamed with no effect, “Admiral,” she tried again. So much for only being able to hear them, you could see her think, “DAD!” she finally screamed, taking a leaf out of your book. He turned around with a puzzled look. As Audrey tapped her own shoulder, Cyclone looked down to find what had caused the commotion. He jogged back towards them and gave it back with a kiss to her cheek, before kissing you and Annie on the forehead one last time. 

Jake pressed a kiss to your head, “I’m going to show my family around but we should get dinner together tonight okay?”

“Sounds good,” you said, giving him a brilliant smile and a kiss on his lips, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he said back before turning to your sisters, “Have a good day ladies, I’ll see you again tonight.” 

“Bye Jake,” Annie and Audrey called out after him. They both turned to you then, Audrey speaking first, “Okay so I know we said he was liquid fire on that video call but damn Y/N, he is like molten lava in person. I need to find myself a fighter pilot.” 

You laughed at her, “Well lucky for you there is a whole base of them here.” 

Before they could continue on the conversation you started to walk away from them, “Come on, let’s go see my plane.” 

Following behind you, your sisters chatted, occasionally pulling you into the conversation as well. The day on base passed quickly. Annie and Audrey oo-ed and ah-ed over your plane and the different training equipment that they saw as well as some of the other equipment that the Navy had brought out for the day. By the time the afternoon set in, you were exhausted and your voice was tired of being used. 

“Do you two want to come back to my apartment before dinner?” you asked them, “I bought a bottle or two of that wine we like.” 

“That sounds lovely,” Annie said, trying to fan herself with a pamphlet that she had picked up along the way, “Indiana is brutal but it is hot hot hot, today.” 

You laughed, “Yeah, you get used to it,” you said, walking with them back to the parking lot. 

They climbed into your car chatting the whole way home. All three of you let out sighs as the cool air inside the apartment hit your hot bodies. Annie sat down on the couch and took off her shoes, “This is what heaven feels like,” she said as she laid her head back on the cushion.

You and Audrey laughed as you popped open the bottle of wine, “Now it’s heaven,” you said, passing her a glass. 

It was only three and you had agreed to meet Jake and his family for dinner around five. When you made the plans with him that morning, he promised to pick you and your sisters up. When the three of you were together things had a tendency to get rowdy quickly, and today was no exception. 

The two hours passed quickly, and promptly at five there was a sharp knock on the door. You practically skipped down the hall before wrenching the door open, and excited, “Jakey!’ leaving your mouth. 

“Darlin’,” he said questioningly, accepting the hug that you pulled him into before pushing you back slightly to see why you were in such a good mood. The loud laughter coming from within the apartment as well as the sound of pop music started to clue him into what you had been up to, he cracked a smile before asking, “You doin’ some pregaming?” 

You laughed, “Well when we got back a glass of wine sounded so nice, but now that I think about it, I can’t remember the last time we ate.” 

Jake shook his head, “Well we better get you ladies to dinner then, are you ready?” 

Pulling him into the apartment, you pushed the door closed, “I think so, let me gather them up.” 

The drive to the Hard Deck was interesting from Jake’s perspective. The three women with him kept singing to the radio and every now and then Annie and Audrey would let out loud awes at your hand holding. 

When you got there, Jake helped you out of his truck before leading everyone inside. His family had gotten there early, claiming a table towards the back of the place. The kitchen was open until ten so there was plenty of time still to order food. As the night progressed, you had sobered up, but your sisters were down to have a good time. 

Tony had his hands full trying to keep up dancing with Audrey, he was the only one you trusted to make sure she didn’t wander off, and you were sure that Sofia wouldn’t mind since she hadn’t been able to come. 

You had lost sight of Annie a few hours ago, but Jake had eased your anxious looks when he pointed her and Rooster out to you, they were leaned up against the bar talking. 

As Tony and Audrey rejoined you and Jake at the table, he looked at his brother, “So Tony, where is Sofia, I would have loved to see her here.” 

His eyebrow started twitching, “Ah…well you know…she was feeling a bit under the weather…thought it might be a cold…so she decided to stay home.” 

Jake laughed deeply, “Just tell us Tony, you’re a shit liar.” 

Tony grumbled, “Oh lei mi ucciderà…She will kill me, I swear… Sofia is pregnant!” he finished excitedly. 

Everyone at the table cheered, Isabella even going as far as shedding a few tears, “Mio figlio, my son, another baby! How exciting!” 

“I knew you were hiding something!” Jake cheered, “Congratulations man! How’s Sofia feeling about it?”

“She was over the moon when we found out and now that the morning sickness is in full swing, she glares at me whenever I enter a room…” Tony joked, “I get it though, she’s having a rough go of it. It was the same with Catalina, so hopefully it eases up as the pregnancy goes on.” 

Jake nodded, his mouth opened to say something, but you spoke first, “How is Catalina?”

“We haven’t told her yet. You guys are actually the first to know, so I would appreciate it if you kept it quiet.” Tony said, addressing the last part to the whole table.

Everyone chimed in with ‘of course’’s and ‘for sure’’s, and Tony relaxed, everyone had noticed how tense he was before but nobody had said anything about it. 

You looked around, realising that you hadn’t seen Maria and Bob in a while. Turning to Jake, you asked, “What are Maria and Bob up to tonight?” 

“Well Maria said that he was taking her to the boardwalk, they are going to take the ferry into San Diego for part of the night I think, there was a street fair or something he had heard about,” Jake whispered in your ear, not wanting the rest of his family to spoil their night. 

“Oh that’s nice for them,” you said, glancing down at your watch, “We should probably leave soon, or these two will be nightmares to get to church tomorrow morning.” 

Jake laughed, “Alright, let's round them up then.” 

He drove you home, the truck quiet except for the sound of the wind blowing through the open windows. In the distance you could hear the gentle melody of fairground music rising through the air. You smiled at Jake, “We should go some day.” 

“Sure, I thought you didn’t like rollercoasters, though,” Jake said, giving you a nervous look. 

“I’m sure I’ll be okay with what they have, if not, I guess I’ll just have to hold your candy cane,” you replied, moving your hand from your lap to rest on top of his over the gear stick.

Your phone buzzed in your lap. You unlocked the device to see a text from Bob, it was a picture. The photograph had been taken from the top of the ferris wheel where Bob and seemed to be sitting with one arm over Mara’s shoulders. She was leaning into him, her head on his shoulder and one of her hands laying flat against his torso. Behind them, the San Diego skyline stretched far, the lights and lamps throughout the city shining bright in the phone’s front facing camera. Another text came in a minute later, “Thinking of you guys, did you have a nice evening?”

“I take it it’s going well?” you texted back, “Evening went well, my sisters got plastered.”

Bobby boy: Yes! We’re getting off the wheel now, I think we’re going for hot dogs after. Nice, I want to meet them properly, they seem fun.

“We’re meeting dad for lunch after church tomorrow, tag along?” you asked. Bob sent back a yellow thumbs up.

----

The next morning was rough to say the least. Your sisters awoke with moans and groans from all the drinks the night before, but after a few Tylenol and a cup of coffee each, they were up and ready to go. The drive to church was quiet save for the praise playlist that you had turned on. 

When you arrived, they both got out, pinning their chapel veils to their heads. This is the part of the day that you were dreading the most. You pulled out the chapel veil that Jake bought you for Christmas and began pinning it to your head. Upon seeing the lace fabric that you were using, Annie and Audrey both stopped walking beside you. 

“Y/N, what is that?” Annie asked quietly. 

“What?” you asked, trying to play dumb. 

Audrey sighed, “Don’t play dumb. That’s a new chapel veil.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, “Jake got it for me.” 

“Why did he do that?” they both asked. 

“Um…because he wanted to be nice?” you said, but the nerves laced into your voice gave you away. 

“What happened to grandma’s?” Annie asked, her face more stern than you had ever seen it. 

“Um…about that…when I was at Jake’s family’s for Thanksgiving his niece went through my bag and she accidentally ripped it…she is only two and she didn’t know better, but its…its ruined,” you said, tears coming to your eyes once again at the thought of what happened. 

Annie’s face softened at that, and she pulled you into a hug, “Hey, it's alright. You took such good care of it for so many years, something was bound to happen sooner or later.” 

At that moment, you felt a hand on your back, Annie let you go and you turned to see Jake, he was giving you a concerned look, “You okay?” 

You nodded, wiping away your tears, “Yeah, I’m alright.” 

He pulled you into his side, squeezing you there gently before taking your hand in his and leading the way into the church. Audrey and Annie sat with the two of you in the back row, Jake’s family sitting to his right and you and your sisters sitting to his left. A few minutes before mass started, Cyclone came in with Elizabeth and joined the group on your side of the pew. 

Jake still pressed a kiss to your cheek when sharing peace and held your hand during the Our Father. At the end of mass, he bid you goodbye, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’ll see you after your lunch?” he asked. 

“Yeah, I’ll let you know once I get these two dropped off at the airport,” you replied smiling. 

Jake bid your sisters goodbye before leaving with his own family, they were headed to their own breakfast before the Seresin clan headed back to Texas. They all gave you a hug, Isabella pressing a gentle kiss to both of your cheeks, before they climbed into Giovanni Senior’s truck and followed Jake into town. 

The diner you were meeting Cyclone at was just down the street. Annie and Audrey took off their chapel veils and tucked them into their luggage carefully before the three of you drove to breakfast, parking the car next to Elizabeth’s SUV and Bob’s Astra

“Hey kids,” Cyclone called out, ushering his brood into the diner, “You ready for some breakfast?” 

“Ready as ever Dad,” Annie called out with a smile, the three of you making your way up the stairs into the building. 

Cyclone gave each of you a side hug, holding the door open and bringing up the back just behind you. Your group was crowded together for a minute before the hostess had gathered enough menus to take you to a table. 

The eleven of you enjoyed the meal and at the end, with much protesting from Annie, Audrey, Bob, and yourself, Cyclone picked up the whole bill, simply saying, “I don’t get to take my adoptive kids out to breakfast as much as I would like, let me treat you.” 

When it was time to be headed to the airport you all made your goodbyes. Annie and Audrey were both a little tearful when giving Cyclone and Elizabeth hugs. They might not be your parents, but they were sure as hell the closest thing you had for a long time. 

You dropped your sisters off at the airport with hugs, tears, and the promise that you would see them on your next long leave. You stood at the bottom of the escalators watching as they rose to the security floor, giving one last wave before they were out of sight. 

Climbing back in your car, you sent Jake a text. 

Girls dropped off, heading home :(

Jakey <3: I’ll meet you there. 

Jakey <3: My family just left too. 

While family day was nice, it was always hard saying goodbye. As if the weather could sense your mood, it started to rain softly on your way home. Jake was waiting for you at your apartment when you arrived, and he had already picked out a movie to watch. You smiled when you recognized the beginning of the film, Pride and Prejudice (2005) was your comfort movie. You hadn’t mentioned that to Jake more than once, but he must have remembered. 

After changing from your church dress to a pair of warm sweatpants and a t-shirt you snuggled up next to him on the couch. You laid your head on his shoulder, inhaling his clean, manly scent. He squeezed you to his side, no words were needed to communicate the melancholy that you were feeling. The afternoon passed in a blur and the last thing you thought before falling asleep was how even the stupidly handsome Matthew Macfayden had nothing on how Jake had looked while standing in the rain. 

[expanding-inwards]

Character Introduction: Romeo Byrne

23 years old. Italian-American. Tall and lanky with long wavy brown hair that is always immaculately styled. Tanned skin and covered in freckles with brown eyes. Protagonist

Excerpt

“These ones actually fell into a storm drain.” Kicking his shoes off, Romeo snatched the half-drunk beer off the table. Ignoring Marshal’s protests, he took a swig and groaned. He had almost caught the key before it fell, but his hands were all sweaty after meeting Jade, and they slipped right past him. And for some unknown reason, people will tell you to fuck off if they see you trying to pry open a storm drain at 11pm. “But that’s not the problem here.”

Description

A newcomer to the Mercurys racing team, Romeo made a name for himself almost immediately. Talk of his cockiness and unhinged driving echoed around the circuit, spoken usually by rival Cannons in derogatory tones. Most of which were true.

With his heart on his sleeve, a disregard for the rivalry held for so long, and gender nonconformity in a community where masculinity is an unspoken standard, Romeo finds himself walking a thin line of how much of "himself" he should really be.

Taglist (ask to be added for removed)

@morganlefag @tragicbackstoryenjoyer @catboy-jesus @yors-truly @silverslipstream @soidlium

[1ore]

question for yuri, the lastborn, and blighted trahearne—fave physical feature on each person (self & the others)?

(rubs my shitty little fly hands together)

Yuri

@ himself:

His legs, for running like hell when shit hits the fan LOL. He doesn't think about himself very much, but if you were to ask him, I think he would say something like that. There's an extra layer of significance to them, what with the Orrian diaspora living with one foot in the ocean and one on shore, not taking terra firma for granted, and being forced out of their homeland to wander abroad. Also this sentiment that the Museum of Walking impressed on me, that walking is like knowing a place, kissing the ground.

otherwise I think he might say his hair. It takes time to style and care for, so he must enjoy it on some level.

@ trahearne:

Impossible to narrow down to a single trait, and I imagine this will be a theme.

I think Yuri was arrested by Trahearne’s silently-amused/knowing eyes, after they met at Claw Island. The resting gay nod. A funny side-effect of meeting Trahearne in the middle of a crisis is that seeing him out-of-action for the first time comes as a surprise. Like, this is The Same Guy. It’s a far cry from his serious and sometimes grim Pact Marshal demeanor, but at the same time it's not really that different. (Aside: when Yuri realizes that this isn’t rare for him, he just finds himself so burdened with responsibility that he doesn’t have time to put it all aside, Yuri’s heart bweaks.)

Also his coattails and “second skin” of armor in general…….. Trahearne gets a kick out of it when Yuri sidles his hands under there, but I think Yuri gets inordinately excited. He loves ruffling his hair, his collar, the combination body hair / coat lapels that run down his chest, all of it.

Yuri also thinks Trahearne’s jawline and "beard" are so handsome. And when his pseudo-snakebites catch on his lips when they kiss. Well. That’s just what it’s all about, isn’t it

@ the lastborn:

Yuri was intimidated by the Lastborn’s attention because of a lot of reasons, but one of those reasons is because he thinks the Lastborn is a beautiful person from toe to tip. Like YES he thinks Trahearne is unattainably handsome in his own way, but the Lastborn has an ethereal or fey-like quality to him that makes him truly untouchable to Yuri… Even though he’s been serving “Born on a mountain / raised in a cave / truckin’ and fuckin’ is all that I crave” since the moment they met.

If he had to point to specific areas, I think it would be his wrists, neck, and shoulders. They’re elegantly lithe but inelegantly lanky/gangly at the same time, in the way a fawn’s legs are. Also his stomach. I think the exposed area where his "coat" comes apart feels velvety soft, like the flat of an agave blade.

Yuri also gets a kick out of the Lastborn's yucca mane for concealing his body, the way clothes or armor otherwise would. Getting a flirty peek of collarbone feels special. It helps that the yucca blades are so sharp, he feels privileged when he’s allowed to be physically close with him.

Aaaaand his profile in general is handsome to Yuri, especially the broad curve of his nose and the way his eyelashes hang over his lidded eyes. He feels like the Lastborn is truly Seeing him, even when he’s just absently glancing at him.

Lastborn

@ himself:

His scar. I’m not sure how he gets it, but it’s probably from his time in the Nightmare Court. To him, it marks him as irreparably “broken” in the eyes of both the Grove and the Court—he is neither the Pale Tree’s perfect step-son, nor is he the Court’s little prophet-prince. He doesn’t belong to them anymore and he’s free to be his own dude.

@ trahearne:

🙄 You’re so vain. You probably think this post is about you. You’re so vain. (so vain.) I bet you think this post is about you, don’t you, don’t you?

Anyway. God. Where does he begin. I think the severity/sharpness of Trahearne’s features left an impression on the Lastborn, when they first met. Like, he had been fed such an idealized picture of The Firstborn ™ (good and bad.) It disarms him to realize that YES Trahearne has a presence and is handsome in his own way, but it’s a rugged handsomeness. He has nicks in his leaves and gnarled corking on his arms and his shoulders and elbows stick out at awkward angles, sometimes. This guy’s been all over, and he isn’t pristine like the Firstborn who stayed in the Grove.

This sentiment also allows him to help Trahearne, as he reconciles with the scars he got from battling Mordremoth. They give Trahearne a little bit of dysphoria, because they’re a painful reminder of his failures in Maguuma, and they're not what anyone imagines when they think of him. But the Lastborn met him so late in his life that they’re an indelible part of Trahearne's image, in his mind's eye. The Lastborn thinks of them the same way he thinks of his own scar--that they’re a visual reminder that he’s free to be his own dude now. And he also just thinks they’re hot LOL.

What else… That he’s a short twunk is endearing, sure, but I think the Lastborn genuinely loves what a solid little dude he is. In the same way that he loves how soft Yuri’s body is, it’s comforting to drape himself over someone who is physically sturdier? stronger? than him. When they start to get closer and Trahearne gets to be more physically affectionate with him, it really makes him feel held.

He’s also a little envious of his nighttime glow. The Lastborn doesn't have one, and it clearly identifies that something is "wrong" with him in the eyes of most Sylvari. But he also just thinks it suits Trahearne that he can always see him—however faintly— even when it gets dark.

@ yuri:

God. Not to be like this, but during their flight from Maguuma, I think the Lastborn saw Yuri’s warm eyes looking up at him with exhausted gratitude and felt something for the first time in years. The Lastborn is embarrassingly fixated on how warm and tender he is in general. Not just emotionally, but physically warm, soft, unarmed—no sharp edges on him, like there are on the Lastborn. He doesn’t have to restrain himself to be around other people, he can just be with them.

Also his scent LOL. Yuri is well-groomed, but I think the innate smell of his skin is novel and exciting to the Lastborn. He likes that he can smell him on his clothes or his bedding, and it doesn’t get lost the way his own scent might.

The Lastborn also has an oral fixation loves his mouth and nose, just the shape of his face in general. Again because there’s not a single hard edge on him, and because he thinks he's hot. But Also because he's charmed by how openly Yuri expresses himself, he smiles so widely and frowns so deeply. The Lastborn doesn’t have to guess what he’s thinking, it’s usually written on his face. He’s very honest in that sense.

Trahearne

@ himself:

Not sure if “favorite” is the word, but I think Trahearne has a complex relationship with the unarmored parts of his body. I think it reminds him of the vulnerability he felt, during those first hours he spent under the Tree, newly emerged. Just him and the whole wide world.

I think he also has a similar relationship with the ground as Yuri does, where keeping his feet and hands exposed keeps him in physical touch with his surroundings. He’s well-armored, but it’s a conscious choice not to close himself off completely.

@ yuri:

His hands. Sorry this is a basic answer for this audience, but I think they would have been the first point of physical contact for Trahearne. They were also the only part of Yuri’s body that was exposed (i mean, besides his face) when he was still wearing his Pact uniform. Trahearne was lucky enough to learn the rest of his body, but his hands were first.

After Yuri becomes a shambling war spirit, I think this fascination with his hands is re-awakened by the fire magic that Yuri stole from Balthazar. Trahearne would never admit it-- he knows what a fraught relationship Yuri has with Balthazar, and for a while, it’s difficult to see him as a pale shadow of the man he knew. He would also rather die than admit that, because it IS powerful magic, it feels physically good to him and to the Dragon. But still, he’s fascinated with Yuri’s control over it. It seems effortless for him to take command of something violent and unpredictable. Trahearne struggles to wrap his head around it, when he’s had to fight tooth and claw to control his own Mordy powers.

Trahearne loves all of him though, I think he takes quiet joy in giving and receiving physical affection. He's lucky that Yuri is a big guy with a lot of love to give. Getting a hug is like getting bodied, and there’s no shortage of chest or stomach real-estate to rest his head on.

@ the lastborn:

I think Trahearne shares a little bit in common with Yuri, in that he initially sees the Lastborn as someone he doesn’t know how to “be” around. But the similarities end there. For him, it’s because the Lastborn has always been framed as dangerous, strange, and other to him. His body was made for a desert far away from the Grove, with plants that arm themselves and shrink from the sun. They don’t aggressively associate with one another the way a forest understory does, so they seem to him to be unfriendly and inhospitable (if strangely beautiful.) This is very much how he feels about the Lastborn before they get to know each other, to the point that the Lastborn notices how unwilling Trahearne is to do his usual microgestures, like touching shoulders or grabbing hands, and this stings.

(The Lastborn was also created to chew on the roots of the Pale Tree with his weird little mandibles, so. that's a lot to take in.)

This changes bigtime when Trahearne starts to appreciate how much they have in common. I think he learns to love him truly, not for some austere beauty that exists “despite” his thorny exterior, but just as he is. The blighting pod exaggerated his own thorns and sharp edges, after all. They aren’t so incompatible with one another.

I think he also enjoys the Lastborn’s mane for the same reason Yuri does, and the same reason he finds Yuri undressing to be hot (removable clothes are a funnie concept to guy whose skin is also his clothes.) Tousling it, fussing with it, getting past it is a ritual. It’s always there to keep his hands busy while they gossip.

What else... Trahearne has a strong knee-jerk reaction to his scar, as well, because he initially sees the Lastborn’s face as a sole touchstone of familiarity. It reminds him that he's looking at the face of someone from the Grove, someone who is part of his family... And may or may not be strangely handsome in a way he doesn’t trust… But then the scar reveals his underlying mandibles, and the illusion is broken.

Later on, he realizes that he’s drawn to it more than he is pushed away by it, and this feeling supplants any feelings of repulsion/othering he used to have. The scar mostly reminds him of Malomedies. It seems terribly unfair that someone would do something so violent to him, and it would stay with him so permanently, but he is learning to appreciate it from the Lastborn’s perspective.

[everythingisblue-if]

were there any planned ROs in the reaper watches me?

Yes, there were a few and I’ll list them here:

“The Reaper Watches Me”

ROs :

Marshall (Mars) -

Mars is the leader of a group of friends named the “Onlookers.” He’s able to see the Grim Reaper and tries to prevent any deaths occurring by the Reaper’s hand. Impassive and harsh, he tries to keep you safe by protecting you at all times. Who knew that his body-guarding skills would blossom into a new love?

(Mars has tan skin, dark brown hair that's faded at the sides, gray eyes, and slight stubble on his face)

Sable

Sable is the brains of the Onlookers; he designs the tech and gear for the group when it’s time to help people and capture lost souls taken by the Reaper. Usually shy and reserved, he opens up to you more than his friends. Will you two stick together?

(Sable has bright, red hair, green eyes, and wears thick-rimmed glasses. He’s lanky and pale with a small amount of freckles)

Mariana

Mariana is the twin sister of Mars, but they have two different attitudes. She’s more friendly, but she continues to hold you at arm's length. The mastermind of the group, she cleverly creates methods to achieve their goal. But what will she plan if her goal is now you?

(Mariana has dark brown, curly hair and tan skin. She has gray eyes and a bright smile)

Parker (gender selectable)

Parker is the clown of the group, but mostly a gifted fighter. They are a warrior of sorts; fighting monsters or souls that they come across just to protect you all. They flirt with you constantly, but they have no means to start a relationship. But will they feel obligated when you’re in danger and it’s their last chance?

(Parker is of Korean descent, and he has pale skin and dark brown eyes. He’s very well muscled, and has black hair that’s curled on top of his head)

Justine/Justin/Justice (gender selectable)

J was your childhood friend until you moved across the country due to your mother’s career. But now you’re back, and you two are catching up. But you didn’t know that you would be pulling them into the craziness that’s happening in your life. But you mean everything to them, so they’ll do whatever to help.

(J has blonde hair and a average build with glistening, blue eyes)

~

I was contemplating on writing a description, features, and ROs description on tumblr, but idk, I didn’t lol

But now you know about the ROs, so that’s one thing I can tick off the box 😂

[ausetkmt]

It’s After the End of the World By Daphne A. Brooks

I remember how it ended. A bespectacled, lanky, light-skinned sister sporting two braided pigtails stepped up to the mic. She was rocking garden-green pants and a yellow spaghetti-strap tank top, and she came out late in the Black Rock Coalition Orchestra’s Nina Simone tribute set in New York on June 13, 2003. Armed with a startling mezzo-soprano that dipped into the outer limits of audible desire, she was covering “I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl” like her life depended on it. Her crooning felt sexy and dangerous and inquisitive as she declared, “I want a little sweetness down in my soul...I want a little steam on my clothes.” The crowd swooned. We were suspended for a moment between the grief of having lost our Nina some three weeks before (April 21, the day that Prince would die 13 years later) and ecstatic remembrance as this then-unknown singer, Alice Smith, summoned the potency of our lost patron saint.

“Our Nina”—as she is sometimes called by black feminists who feel especially possessive and protective of her—was a musician whose body of work pushed us and challenged us to know more about ourselves, what we longed for, and who we were as women navigating intersectional injuries and negations of mattering in the American body politic. She was beloved as much for the emotional force of her showmanship as she was for the lyrical, instrumental, and political force of her virtuosity. That night (one I remember so vividly, perhaps, because it was the Friday before my father died), Smith was conjuring that revolutionary, climactic Nina feeling—the erotic kind, which women of color historically have rarely been able to claim for their own, and the socially transformative kind, that marginalized peoples have called upon to bring about radical change.

That revolutionary Nina feeling runs like a high-voltage current from her earliest American Songbook covers through her  Frankfurt School battle cries, folk lullabies and eulogies, blues incantations, Black Power anthems, diasporic fever chants, Euro romantic laments, and experimental classical and freestyle jazz odysseys. It is the signal she sends out to tell us that something is turning, that we may be closing in on some new way of being in the world and being with each other, or we are at least reaching the point of breaking something open, tearing down Jim Crow institutions. Often enough, it indicated that we were joining her in tearing up those unspoken rules about how a Bach-loving, Lenin- and Marx-championing, “not-about-to-be-nonviolent-no-more” musician and black freedom struggle activist should sound. 

Photo by Gilles Petard/Getty Images

Soothsayer, chastiser, conjurer, philosopher, historian, actor, politician, archivist, ethnographer, black love proselytizer: She showed up on the frontlines of people-powered mass disturbances, delivering the good word (“It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day”) or shining discomforting light on the stubborn edifice of Southern white power (“Why don’t you see it?/Why don’t you feel it?”). And even when illness set in, and exile didn’t soften her grief for fallen friends and their unfinished revolution, she faltered for a time but ultimately stayed the course. She was fastidiously focused, insouciantly exploratory, and ferociously inventive at her many legendary, marathon concerts—Montreux, Fort Dix—the ones in which her mad skills, honed during her youthful years in late-night supper club jam sessions, returned in full. She was epic, our journey woman, the one who was capable of taking us to the ineffable, joyous elsewhere in that “Feeling Good” vocal improvisation that closes out that track. 

Today, we return to her more passionately than ever before, looking to her for answers, parables, strategies—not only for how to survive, but how to end this thing called white supremacist patriarchy that some of us had naïvely believed was ever-so-excruciatingly self-destructing. Since her death, her iconicity has grown, spreading to the world of hip-hop (which, as  the scholar Salamishah Tillet has shown, frequently samples her radicalism), to academia, where studies of Simone—articles and conference papers, seminars and book projects—pile high, making inroads in a segment of university culture previously cornered by Dylanologists. We take her with us to the weekend marches. Our students cue her up, summoning her wisdom and fortitude during the rallies.  

This massive old-new love for our Nina is a way of being, and her sound encapsulates the pursuit of emotional knowledge and ethical bravery. She forges our awakening.  I said as much a few weeks before Nina passed, when I offered a conference meditation on the late Jeff Buckley’s cover of “Lilac Wine,” a song I had kept on a loop during my grad years and one that had taught me a few things about heartbreak and heroism.  Through the voice of that white, Gen X, alt-rock daring balladeer and ardent fan of Nina’s, I could hear Ms. Simone singing to me, “Leave everything on the floor, and face the end triumphantly.”

It was a message that she conveyed all on her own when I saw her in 2000 at the Hollywood Bowl—one of her rare, stateside shows in her waning years. That night, she kept a feather duster at the piano, and after each song, she raised it like a conductor’s baton, beckoning an ovation. I remember that it was a gesture that felt cold and distant at the time, a sign of her lasting, antagonistic relationship with her audience—all of which is no doubt true. But in hindsight, I think more about the lessons she was bestowing on us, yet again, that evening. At the close of every number, we were invited to recognize the wonder of her artistry and to listen with anticipation for whatever would come next, the next better world she would create for us and with us—a black space, a women’s space, a free space. All those endings which might lead to new beginnings.

Daphne A. Brooks is Professor of African American Studies, Theater Studies, American Studies, and Women’s, Gender & Sexuality Studies at Yale University.  

Listen to Nina Simone: Her Art and Life in 33 Songs on Spotify and Apple Music.

Photo by David Redfern/Getty Images

“I Loves You Porgy”

Little Girl Blue

1958

Nina Simone’s first album,  Little Girl Blue, was just a run-through of the material she’d been singing in clubs, in the arrangements she’d already made. They were ready to go. “I Loves You Porgy” became a Billboard Top 20 hit in 1959 and established her career in New York. To hear it is to understand how Simone’s critical consciousness began early and never turned off. She approached the ballad from George and Ira Gershwin’s “folk opera” Porgy and Bess not as a classical musician, as per her training, or as a jazz or cabaret musician, as she had been called—only as herself. Even on paper, the song is emotionally loaded: a plea for protection to a man the narrator has come to trust. In emotional terms, Billie Holiday’s 1948 version feels optimistic, guardedly bright; Simone’s feels concentrated and gravely serious, almost private, even as she adds trills and rhythmic details to every line. When she sings, “If you can keep me, I want to stay here/With you forever, and I’ll be glad,” there is no way to know what “glad” means to her. –Ben Ratliff

Listen: “I Loves You Porgy”

“My Baby Just Cares for Me”

Little Girl Blue

1958

When Nina Simone cut  Little Girl Blue, she was still smarting from her rejection from a prestigious classical conservatory. Throughout the album, she proved her chops by dropping a reference to Bach in one swinging track and improvising with a fluidity that Mozart would have admired, and also by subtly changing a tune that American listeners thought they knew. The standard “My Baby Just Cares for Me” was first made popular by the 1930 musical  Whoopee!, and through such lyrics as, “My baby don’t care for shows/My baby don’t care for clothes,” its singer takes pride in a romantic prowess that can cut across class divisions. The vaudeville star Eddie Cantor performed it onscreen in a brassy, obvious way that fit the era (up to and including his use of blackface makeup). Simone’s reading is more soulful and complex. The tempo has been slowed, but the feel for jazz swing has been powerfully increased. In the middle of the song, over a finger-popping groove, Simone delivers a solo of pellucid elegance. Her vocals draw their power both from blues grit and crisp articulations, and from the way Simone bridges those styles. The way she plays this song, those old “high-tone places” and social codes no longer seem so untouchable—in the presence of such artistry, they only seem embarrassing and ripe for redefinition. –Seth Colter Walls

Listen: “My Baby Just Cares for Me”

“Black Is the Color of My True Love’s Hair”

Nina Simone At Town Hall

1959

Recontextualizing an Appalachian folk song, Simone transposed a mournful lament with roots in the Scottish highlands to 1959 America, where “black” was imbued with far greater heft. Coming early in her career, “Black Is the Color of My True Love’s Hair” promised an increasing political consciousness in her music, the intent clear in the cascade of loving, mournful, minor-key piano in the intro and her ever-profound, trembling contralto. The line “I love the ground on where he goes” held particular meaning in 1959, as the Civil Rights Movement was hitting a fever pitch but the racist laws of the Jim Crow South still held strong. Town Hall, where the album was recorded, was in midtown New York. It was the first concert hall she ever played, a venue where she would be venerated for singing her mind. The song arrived at the beginning of her fame but, more importantly, it was an incubator of her mindset to come. –Julianne Escobedo Shepherd

Listen:“Black Is the Color of My True Love’s Hair”

Photo by Herb Snitzer/Getty Images

“Just in Time”

At the Village Gate

1962

Simone’s live albums, recorded in clubs or theaters, were fundamental to her work. All of them still feel charged. By 1957, when she was still playing in Atlantic City clubs, she had established a hard line: You paid attention or she stopped playing. By 1959, when she first played at New York’s Town Hall, she graduated in self-definition from club singer to concert-hall singer, which is to say she knew there was a sufficient amount of people who would come to hear her. And in April 1961, when she recorded  At the Village Gate, she could bring back that imperial attitude to club dimensions, leading her quartet from the piano.   

For about one full, intense minute at the start of “Just in Time,” she winds up her quartet with dissonant, percussive chord clusters. Then she settles into the first verse, sung at confidential level, drawing out her vowels into quavers. Her piano solo is as hypnotic and repetitive as what John Lewis made famous doing with the Modern Jazz Quartet, but smudgier and more emphatic. This is comprehensive skill—singing, playing, bandleading—and the song is all zone: nearing it, then staying in it. –Ben Ratliff

Listen:“Just in Time”

“The Other Woman/Cotton Eyed Joe”

At Carnegie Hall

1963

Nina Simone once dreamed of becoming the first black female classical pianist to play Carnegie Hall, but when she finally made it there on April 12, 1963, she was working in a different idiom. Her set was filled with traditional songs and standards she made her own, including this striking mashup that closes her  At Carnegie Hall live album.

A staple in Simone’s sets, “The Other Woman” is a deceptively nuanced Jessie Mae Robinson tune with immense empathy for the mistress. It was first recorded by Sarah Vaughan, but Simone elevates the song further with her ability to conjure the loneliness of womanhood better than just about anyone, particularly when her accompaniments run slow and sparse. In performances over the years, the emotional burden of “The Other Woman” seemed to weigh heavier on Simone, as she experienced infidelity from both sides. At Carnegie Hall, though, she segues into the most elegant take on “Cotton Eyed Joe” imaginable, merging folk, jazz, and a touch of her beloved classical. –Jillian Mapes

Listen:“The Other Woman/Cotton Eyed Joe”

“Mississippi Goddam”

In Concert

1964

As the Civil Rights Movement gained traction, retaliation from racist whites became more intense, reaching a terrible apex in 1963, when the KKK murdered Medgar Evers in Jackson, Mississippi, and four children in a church bombing in Birmingham, Alabama. Nina Simone’s frustration and desperation is palpable in the biting, cynical way she performed “Mississippi Goddam” at Carnegie Hall—a room full of natty whites, but the rare New York concert hall that was never segregated. Within her voice, unloosed so explicitly for the first time, a sanguine irony formed the tension between its sentiment, the very real possibility of being murdered for her race (“I think every day’s gonna be my last”).

During her set at Carnegie, which was recorded for her album In Concert, Simone referred to this song as a show tune “but the show that hasn’t been written for it yet.” Its frantic tempo reflected the urgency of the moment, a template for protest songs to follow, and the piano chords propelled the song’s existentialism with the determination of a steam engine train. It was gonna make it on time, but its destination was still unknown. –Julianne Escobedo Shepherd

Listen:“Mississippi Goddam”

“Pirate Jenny”

In Concert

1964

Nina Simone seethes the lyrics to “Pirate Jenny,” taking every ounce of delight in openly threatening her audience. The song, penned in the late 1920s by the German theatrical composer Kurt Weill, is a revenge tale in which a lowly maid fantasizes that she is the Queen of Pirates and that a black ship will soon emerge from the mist to destroy the town in which she has been treated so poorly. In Simone’s hands, it transforms from political metaphor into dark and unchained spiritual catharsis. Her performance devolves from singing to whispering, with raspy venomous verses such as, “They’re chaining up the people and bringing ‘em to me/Asking me kill them now or later.” Accompanied only by piano and timpani, she allows for long pauses, using silence as a psychological weapon. You can all but hear the audience clutching their pearls. –Carvell Wallace

Listen:“Pirate Jenny”

“Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood”

Broadway-Blues-Ballads

1964

Though the unremarkable  Broadway-Blues-Ballads followed “Mississippi Goddam”’s overwhelming reception a few months earlier, its opening number, “Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood,” quickly emerged and remains a tentpole of Nina Simone’s identity. (Never mind that its lyrics were written by Bennie Benjamin, Horace Ott, and Sol Marcus.) After years of “inferior” show tunes and “musically ignorant” popular audiences, as she would later call them in her autobiography I Put a Spell on You, Simone was all too familiar with this song’s themes of lonely remorse, of seeming edgy and taking it out on the people she loved, of “[finding herself] alone regretting/Some little foolish thing...that [she’s] done.”

Though “Goddam” began a pivotal year in which Simone would refocus her life on civil rights and black revolution, “Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood” would continue to reflect her  personal struggles to come, including the bipolar disorder and manic depression that went undiagnosed and self-medicated until late in life. White audiences often saw her as the benign entertainer they wanted to; Simone long struggled to be seen as her whole, complex self. –Devon Maloney

Listen: “Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood”

Photo by Jack Robinson/Getty Images

“See-Line Woman”

Broadway-Blues-Ballads

1964

In the stretch between 1962 and 1967, Nina Simone was at her most prolific, releasing at least two albums per year—and three in 1964. Broadway-Blues-Ballads premiered several songs that became fixtures of Simone’s live repertoire, including the scintillating call-and-response number “See-Line Woman.” Built on the structure and rhythm of a  traditional children’s song, it tells the tale of four escorts, dressed in different colors that signify what they’re willing to do. In Simone’s rendering, the “See-Line Woman” is something of a femme fatale, who will “empty [a man’s] pockets” and “wreck his days/And she make him love her, then she sure fly away.” 

Simone’s performance showcases her voice as a powerful instrument, flirtatious and sly, backed by a stuttering hi-hat and flute arrangement that never outshines her vocals. The origins of the tune that inspired “See-Line Woman” remain uncertain, but Simone’s recording leaves little doubt that the song is hers. –Vanessa Okoth-Obbo

Listen:“See-Line Woman”

“Be My Husband”

Pastel Blues

1965

The lyrics of “Be My Husband” are attributed to Andrew Stroud, Nina Simone’s second husband and manager—a strong, guiding, sometimes violent hand in her career and her life. (Billie had one. Aretha, too.) The title seems mysterious at first: Is it a proposal, a bargain, or a command? Is she saying “marry me” or “act like a husband is supposed to act”? All of her musical and expressive genius is here. Her breath and guttural sighs seem to say, “This shit is work with an intermittent erotic respite.” Her voice dips, curves, bends, and flies, provides the melody and the rhythm. She demands, she pleads. She is all strength, then absolute vulnerability.  

The year Simone recorded “Be My Husband,” death came for both her closest friend, the playwright Lorraine Hansberry, and Malcolm X. Spring brought Selma, and Nina serenaded the marchers. In this season of mourning and wakefulness, “Be My Husband” revealed itself to have been all these things: a proposition, a bargain,  and a command.  Do right by me, Simone sings, and I’ll do right by you. Love for a man, a people, a nation is struggle—it is work. –Farah Jasmine Griffin

Listen:“Be My Husband”

“I Put a Spell on You”

I Put a Spell on You

1965

History remembers Nina Simone as nothing if not resolute, thanks in significant part to “I Put a Spell on You.” Slinky and confident, with flashes of destructive insecurity, her now-iconic cover of Screamin’ Jay Hawkins’ blues lament begins matter-of-factly, informative even, then whips itself into the controlled fury of a woman who has made up her mind and is bracing for the inevitable fight. Simone refuses to be taken advantage of throughout, claiming what is rightfully hers: “I don’t care if you don’t want me/I’m yours right now.”

Personal meaning aside—in 1965, she was halfway through a marriage—“I Put a Spell on You” also evokes Simone’s relationship with her audiences over the years. Its release, after all, came just as she was finding her own magic: As she wrote in her autobiography, “It’s like I was hypnotizing an entire audience to feel a certain way….This was how I got my reputation as a live performer, because I went out from the mid-Sixties onward determined to get every audience to enjoy my concerts the way I wanted them to, and if they resisted at first, I had all the tricks to bewitch them with.” –Devon Maloney

Listen:“I Put a Spell on You”

“Feeling Good”

I Put a Spell on You

1965

Throughout her life, Nina Simone rebelled against the tendency for her music to be categorized as jazz or blues, as it gave little acknowledgement to her classical training and her fluidity in other genres. I Put a Spell on You cemented her status as a singer at ease with popular music, who could command attention even when her exceptional piano skills played a secondary role. Simone’s version of “Feeling Good” is one of the album’s masterworks, and it became a standard in its own right. From the opening notes of the strictly vocal intro, she looks to nature to describe contentment: birds flying high, the sun in the sky, a breeze drifting on by. When the big band orchestration comes in, the horns and strings transform the song into a sermon of unbridled joy, peaking with a rousing scat solo that can only emerge from the depths of a free soul. –Vanessa Okoth-Obbo

Listen:“Feeling Good”

“Ne Me Quitte Pas”

I Put a Spell on You

1965

This song finds Nina Simone’s emotions at their most indulgent, her shivering voice at its most precise. Penned by the Belgian crooner Jacques Brel and originally recorded in 1959, its cloying lyrics “Do not leave me” were meant to poke fun at men who could not keep their hearts in their shirts. On Simone’s recording, however, the work becomes something else entirely: It is an agonizing mediation on the kind of existential desolation that only a broken love can bring. Andrew Stroud, a retired NYPD lieutenant, once held her at gunpoint and raped her; she remained in this relationship for nearly 15 years, during which she recorded most of her defining albums. Here, she expands and contracts, pianissimo to fortissimo, as though the entire song were a series of sighs; when she sings, “Let me be the shadow of your shadow,” in its original French, a cosmic rumble emits from the depths of her heart. The chorus is simply the song’s title repeated, and the fourth one sounds precisely like the last flicker of a candle’s flame. –Carvell Wallace

Listen:“Ne Me Quitte Pas”

Photo by Frans Schellekens/Getty Images

“Strange Fruit”

Pastel Blues

1965

In 1965, three very important marches took place between Selma and Montgomery, Alabama, in protest of laws that prevented black citizens from exercising their right to vote. The third and most successful of these culminated in a concert organized by Harry Belafonte, at which Nina Simone performed. There, Simone—who once declared that she was “not non-violent”—used music as her weapon in the fight for liberty. 

Pastel Blues was not an overt protest record, but “Strange Fruit” was an unequivocal rebuke of the lynchings that claimed so many black lives. The song was originally popularized by Billie Holliday, who often performed it under strict conditions to avoid backlash over its severe message, but Simone was no longer held back by fear, having already put her career on the line with the similarly frank “Mississippi Goddam.” Over somber piano keys, she recounts the horror of seeing black bodies hanging from the trees like fruit, in one of the most startling metaphors ever set to wax. At the song’s apex, when describing how the bodies would be left “for the leaves to drop,” Simone wails the third word with an anguish that’s as unforgettable as the painful history that the song decries. —Vanessa Okoth-Obbo

Listen:“Strange Fruit”

“Sinnerman”

Pastel Blues

1965

One of Nina Simone’s most recognizable recordings, “Sinnerman” has been repurposed by everyone from David Lynch to Kanye West. What remains in its original form, however, is the pure punk of it. This live recording rides hard on a driving 2/4 backbeat, one that accelerates a full 10 bpm over its 10-minute run. Simone’s backing band is sharp, the rimshots and high hats insistent, the piano work both velvety and forceful. It is a song of apocalypse, of bleeding seas and boiling rivers and the inability to escape God’s wrath no matter where you turn. 

As a child, Simone learned “Sinnerman” from her mother, who sang it in revival meetings to help sinners become so overwhelmed as to confess their transgressions. Hellfire, brimstone, and damnation were the lullabies on which she was nursed, and it explains her disdain for the fearful. “Sinnerman” is an attack; its hypnotic repetition is designed to induce you to God or madness, whichever comes first. She unleashes her voice, sharp and wide, like sunlight glinting off the blade of a knife. Here, Simone—whose life was as violent and lawless as her music was transcendent—channels heaven and hell equal measure. –Carvell Wallace

Listen:“Sinnerman”

“Lilac Wine”

Wild Is the Wind

1966

“Lilac Wine,” a woozy torch song, originally appeared in James Shelton’s if-you-blinked-you-missed-it 1950 Broadway musical revue “Dance Me a Song.” In 1953, Eartha Kitt dropped a cover and the song became a standard. Nina Simone’s arch-dramatic reimagining is as exotic and dizzying as the titular intoxicant, veering drunkenly between minor and major keys. Simone slows down the tempo to a dirge-like crawl; her classically inflected piano accompaniment is spare and insistent like a metronome. But it’s her trembling singing that really delivers the devastation: The way she captures crestfallen confusion and inebriated fogginess in her vocal performance is astonishing, and no easy feat. Even more astonishing: The way she balances the song’s damaged gloom with a heaving romantic tenderness. –Jason King

Listen:“Lilac Wine”

“Wild Is the Wind”

Wild Is the Wind

1966

Nina Simone debuted her elegant take on “Wild Is the Wind” on 1959’s At Town Hall—a year after Johnny Mathis scored an Oscar nod for the standard—though it would be another seven years before Simone introduced her ominous studio version. Wild Is the Wind, one of three albums Simone released in 1966, is filled with songs that yearn for understanding and romantic resolution, but few capture the feeling with as much uneasiness as the title track. One minute she’s completely swept away by love’s rapture with classical-piano opulence; the next her vibrato purrs on its lowest setting. The music cuts out. Nina smirks sharply. “Don’t you know, you’re life itself,” she coos. Some annotations of this line end it with an exclamation point, but Simone sings it more like a question. She knows how she feels, but there’s still something uncertain about it, perhaps a reflection of her own turbulent private life at this moment. –Jillian Mapes

Listen:“Wild Is the Wind”

“Four Women”

Wild Is the Wind

1966

While most of her records featured interpretations of songs written by others,  Wild Is the Wind is special for a composition penned by Simone herself. On “Four Women,” she deconstructs the shameful dual legacies of slavery and racism in America, narrating from the perspective of four black female characters. Aunt Sarah is forced to work hard and be strong, lest a whip be cracked on her back; the biracial Saffronia exists between black and white worlds, shouldering the knowledge that her father “forced [her] mother late one night”; Sweet Thing is the little girl forced to grow up too fast, who has come to understand her body as something that has a cost. The song is set to a simple melody of bass and percussion, with Simone on the piano, but the tension builds with each vignette. By the time she gets to Peaches, the most vengeful character, Simone is yelling with the fury of many generations, and the instruments crescendo. With “Four Women,” Simone took a stand for black women, whose suffering at the nexus of race and gender discrimination is often rendered invisible. Shortly after its release, it was banned by several radio stations for supposedly incendiary content—a possibility that Simone must have anticipated. But she was a fearless fighter, and the song was her affirmation that black womanhood would remain at the heart of her activism. –Vanessa Okoth-Obbo

Listen: “Four Women”

Photo by Michael Ochs Archives/Stringer

“I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free”

Silk & Soul

1967

Though urban America was unraveling in 1967, with riots exploding in Detroit and Newark, Simone was being encouraged by RCA Records to go easy on the activism and focus on her career. She released three studio albums that year, the final being  Silk & Soul, which was mostly filled with love songs and strings. However, right at the top of Side B was a track that would become an anthem of the Civil Rights Movement: “I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free,” written by the jazz pianist and educator Dr. Billy Taylor.

The song’s swinging melody and finger-popping performance belies its message, summarized in the yearning ambiguity of its title. The contrast between the emotion of the lyrics (“I wish I could share all the love that’s in my heart/Remove all the bars that keep us apart”) and the upbeat, gospel-based arrangement added depth and power. Out of this tension, the song rang out as a hopeful but realistic vision of emancipation. –Alan Light

Listen:“I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free”

“Come Ye” 

High Priestess of Soul

1967

“Come Ye” is the sparest track on  High Priestess of Soul, an album produced with a fairly heavy hand by Hal Mooney. By then, Simone was seen widely as not just a musician but as a kind of power station of black consciousness, with the ability to politicize audiences—even white and American ones. In vocals and percussion alone, this is an original African-American folk song: polyrhythmic, in a single tonal center, played with hand drums. In four verses, Simone gradually raises its stakes until it all ends direly: “Ye who would have love,” she sings. “It’s time to take a stand/Don’t mind the dues that must be paid/For the love of your fellow man.” This is the intersection of cultural memory, passion, and action—medicine, warning, and alarm. –Ben Ratliff

Listen:“Come Ye”

“Backlash Blues”

Nina Simone Sings the Blues

1967

Simone’s friend Langston Hughes mailed her the lyrics to this song in poem form, and she took immediately to his indictment of “Mr. Backlash,” a personification of white oppression of black America’s small gains (and the “black, yellow, beige and brown” among them, equally oppressed). Simone delivered these promises and threats with a slinky blues rasp, forecasting that the person to receive the backlash would be the oppressor himself. Its lyrics also dovetailed with the rise of the Black Panther Party, which had begun exercising their right to open-carry in their efforts to protect the black people of Oakland from police brutality. Simone sang easily, measuredly, with the confidence that one day a score would be settled: “Do you think that all colored folks are just second class fools?” –Julianne Escobedo Shepherd

Listen:“Backlash Blues”

“I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl”

Nina Simone Sings the Blues

1967

In the 1960s, Simone left her first label, Colpix, ended up at Phillips, and then hopped over to RCA Victor. In 1967, she recorded her debut album for RCA: Nina Simone Sings the Blues, a hard-driving, tough-talking collection of originals and covers. On “I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl,” she borrows the basic blues progressions from “Nobody Knows You When You’re Down and Out,” a 1920s cautionary standard originally popularized by Bessie Smith. But Simone comes up with an original lyric that bypasses social commentary and conjures up bawdy flirtatiousness and lust instead: “I want a little sugar in my bowl/I want a little sweetness down in my soul/I could stand some lovin’, oh so bad/I feel so funny, I feel so sad.” Impressive in her thematic range, Simone had no problem mixing double entendre lyrics about ribald sex and in-your-face politics on her albums: “I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl” appears alongside her classic civil rights protest song “Backlash Blues.” Songs like this serve as a reminder that the revolutionary activist who can’t occasionally admit to being horny isn’t really the revolutionary activist we need. –Jason King

Listen:“I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl”

“Why? (The King of Love Is Dead)”

’Nuff Said

1968

What and whom are we mourning? How will we mourn, and can we transform the depths of our despair into living in a way that honors what we’ve lost? Nina Simone turns each of these questions over and over from multiple vantage points in this nearly 13-minute performance, recorded on April 7, 1968, at Long Island’s Westbury Music Fair, three days after Martin Luther King, Jr.’s assassination. She and her band learned the song, written by bassist Gene Taylor, earlier in the day.

Shaped by the improvisational urgency and rawness of the moment, the live rendition of “Why?” captures many Ninas: the sermonizer accompanying herself on piano and leading her congregation through the wilderness; the Civil Rights dreamer delivering a delicate jazz tale of a nonviolent folk hero; the anguished pallbearer voicing a funeral hymn; and the master of the black freedom struggle jeremiad who laments, “Will the murders never cease?” before slipping fully into her militant “Mississippi” self. She mourns not just for King but for the numerous slain leaders, martyrs, fellow freedom-fighting artists, and “many thousands gone,” as her friend James Baldwin put it—the black subjugated masses who shape the epic sorrow and weariness of her subdued vocals. This dirge-turned-protest-song absorbs the weight of all these bodies but also defiantly affirms the presence of she who remains on the battlefield. “We’ve lost a lot of them in the last two years, but we have remaining Monk, Miles,” Simone reflects slowly, speaking to the audience. From the rafters, a stentorian voice finishes the list: “Nina.” –Daphne A. Brooks

Listen: “Why? (The King of Love Is Dead)”

“The Desperate Ones”

Nina Simone and Piano!

1969

Nina Simone never had the widest vocal range or the purest pitch, but she had a once-in-a-generation talent for conveying the meaning of a song through tone and phrasing. With few exceptions, once she sang a song, it was hers, and she was never afraid to make bold choices that could seem downright strange at first listen. Throughout the 1960s, that incomparable voice appeared in many settings, from huge orchestral arrangements to minimal ballads, as she moved confidently from one musical genre to the next. And at the tail end of the decade, she made an album that returned her to the milieu of her first days as a performer.

Nina Simone and Piano! closes with “The Desperate Ones,” an oblique song by Jacques Brel that depicts, with heavy romantic imagery, the weariness of the ‘60s youth trying to remake the world. It was always a quiet song, both when Brel sang it in 1965 and after it was translated into English for the 1968 off-Broadway show Jacques Brel Is Alive and Well and Living in Paris. But Simone’s performance takes the hushed intensity to an almost frightening level, showcasing her staggering ability to convey feeling with simple elements. She just barely hints at a melody as she reframes the song’s story as something passed between strangers in a darkened alley. Singing in a raspy whisper, her voice is filled with yearning and empathy and wonder, and the starkness of the arrangement highlights its eerie magic. –Mark Richardson

Listen: “The Desperate Ones”

“To Be Young, Gifted and Black”

Black Gold

1970

Lorraine Hansberry, the first black woman to have her work produced on Broadway (A Raisin in the Sun), was a friend and mentor to Simone, and a key figure in her political awakening. When Hansberry died of pancreatic cancer in 1965, at age 34, the singer was devastated—and when Malcolm X was killed the next month, her radicalization was complete.

In 1969, Hansberry’s ex-husband adapted some of her writing into an off-Broadway play called “To Be Young, Gifted and Black.” One Sunday, Simone opened the newspaper and saw a story about the production. She called her musical director, Weldon Irvine, to help with the lyrics, and the song—which would be her final contribution to the protest canon—was finished 48 hours later. With its simple, direct message of racial and personal pride and forceful melody, the single was a Top 10 R&B hit and Simone’s biggest crossover success since “I Loves You, Porgy.” It would be covered by Aretha Franklin, Donny Hathaway, and Solange, and CORE named it the “Black National Anthem.” Simone even performed the song on “Sesame Street.” –Alan Light

Listen: “To Be Young, Gifted and Black”

“Just Like a Woman”

Here Comes the Sun

1971

In the early 1960s, as Simone’s star was rising at New York’s Village Gate club, a young Bob Dylan was scratching at the door of the folk scene brewing across the street, doing parody songs between sets by bigger names. Less than a decade later, Simone had five Dylan covers in her discography, none more necessary than “Just Like a Woman.” 

In Simone’s hands, Dylan’s half-improvised song about watching an ex-girlfriend walk away became a heartfelt paean to all women. Each once-bitter read from Dylan—“she takes just like a woman,” “she breaks just like a little girl”—was now delivered as an affirmation of female resilience and vulnerability, a human frailty that invited empathy rather than contempt.

Voiced by a woman—especially a famously forthright, tenacious one like Simone—the song got a first-person adaptation; rather than infantilizing the “woman” in question and separating her from the world, Simone’s interpretation closed the gap. Released near the height of her influence as a political artist, it’s a feminist treatment with an inversion that feels contemporary, even half a century later. –Devon Maloney

Listen: “Just Like a Woman”

“22nd Century”

Here Comes the Sun

1971

As Nina Simone tells it in her memoir, by the early 1970s, everything was coming undone for her; she had “fled to Barbados pursued by ghosts: Daddy, [sister] Lucille, the movement, Martin, Malcolm, [her] marriage, [her] hopes…” On its surface, “22nd Century” translates this personal moment of peril into big, broad, metaphorical strokes that wed the apocalyptic with cathartic possibility and radical euphoria. “There is no oxygen in the air/Men and women have lost their hair,” she prophesizes, holding steady at the center of an intoxicating swirl of flamenco guitar and calypso steel drums. “When life is taken and there are no more babies born....Tomorrow will be the 22nd century.”

In the future that is Nina’s, things fall apart so that notions of time, space, and the human can be razed and take on new shape. But in this era in which she sought out Caribbean maroonage, there is perhaps an even deeper connection forged by way of this hypnotic, nearly nine-minute odyssey. Covering Bahamian “Obeah Man” Exuma’s stirring, hybrid mix of junkanoo, carnival, and folk, she sticks close to his original recording from that same year and merges her Afrodiasporic revolutionary vision with his:  “Don’t try to sway me over to your day/On your day,” her reaching vocals insist. “Your day will go away.” –Daphne A. Brooks

Listen: “22nd Century”

Photo by David Redfern/Getty Images

Medley: “My Sweet Lord/Today Is a Killer”

“Emergency Ward!”

1972

No artist ever wielded power over an audience as deftly as Nina Simone, but the same can be said of her talent for turning covers into transcendent events. By 1972, she’d perfected—several times over—both delicate alchemies. She used her crowds’ expectations to lure them in before delivering uncomfortable yet necessary truths, all while constructing what one academic, quoting theorist William Parker, called “inside songs”—covers that dig up the song lying “in the shadows, in-between the sounds and silences and behind the words” of the original.

That creative electricity is palpable on this gargantuan, 18-minute live jam that takes up an entire side of Emergency Ward!, the record now considered Simone’s major anti-Vietnam War statement. Backed by a gospel choir, she invites the audience in with George Harrison’s then-two-year-old mega-hit, locking into a mesmerizing church sing-along before revealing the Trojans within: David Nelson’s brutal poem about the desperate, decaying hope of the Civil Rights era. Lines like "Today/Pressing his ugly face against mine/Staring at me with lifeless eyes/Crumbling away all memories of yesterday’s dreams,” dropped into the rhythm of Harrison’s exaltations, inflate the performance like a hot air balloon, making it the ultimate testament to Simone’s ability to turn even a simple interpretation into a political masterpiece. –Devon Maloney

Listen: Medley: “My Sweet Lord/Today Is a Killer,”

“Funkier Than a Mosquito’s Tweeter”

Is It Finished

1974

Nina Simone’s palate was always broad, but with this reimagining of a Tina Turner barnburner, she used minimalist funk arrangements as a platform for her unleashed vocals—mewling and crawling at alternate intervals, the disgusted cursing of a woman highly over a dusty dude. The openness of the 1970s served her more adventurous impulses well, though by the time she cut “Funkier,” she was fully spiraling into depression and alcoholism. (Who could blame her, with the serrated knife that had been the late 1960s, from Civil Rights to Vietnam?) Her edge showed in this song: Her voice cracks with exasperation, alluding that the predator she sings about might well be the good ol’ US of A. Spent, she wouldn’t record another album for four years. –Julianne Escobedo Shepherd

Listen: “Funkier Than a Mosquito’s Tweeter”

Photo by Jack Vartoogian/Getty Images

“Baltimore”

Baltimore

1978

Following the death of Freddie Gray in April 2015, Simone’s 1978 recording of Randy Newman’s “Baltimore”—“Oh, Baltimore/Ain’t it hard just to live”—was widely circulated on social media, illustrating the continuing endurance and power of her work. The song was the title track from a particularly fraught album that appeared as Simone was living in poverty in Paris and her recordings were getting increasingly rare. She fought so much with Creed Taylor, who had signed her to CTI Records, that she insisted he not only leave the studio, but the country. She finally cut all of her vocals in a single, hourlong session.

She did acknowledge, however, that she liked this song, which Newman had recorded the year before. The narrator of “Baltimore” is worn down by the American economy and malaise—“hard times in the city, in a hard town by the sea”—and finally decides to pack his family in a “big old wagon” and send them out of town. Having fled the U.S. years earlier, Simone’s reaction to the lyrics was personal. “And it refers to, I’m going to buy a fleet of Cadillacs,” she said, “and take my little sister, Frances, and my brother, and take them to the mountain and never come back here, until the day I die.” –Alan Light

Listen: “Baltimore”

“Fodder on Her Wings”

Fodder on My Wings

1982

In the early ’80s, Nina Simone was living in France and she was deeply lonely; her family life was strained, and she was suffering from encroaching mental illness. A new song on her 1982 album, Fodder on My Wings, captured with startling intimacy the pain of this period, and she returned to it frequently through the next decade, cutting another studio version three years later (the synth-heavy take on Nina’s Back!) and including it on several live albums, including an awe-inspiring performance on 1987’s Let It Be Me. The title of the song itself is titled “her” wings while the album it appears on uses “my”; the slippery point of view underscores its heavily personal nature, as Simone sings of a bird that traveled the world, from Switzerland to France and England—all places she herself had spent time—and then crashed to earth. “She had dust inside her brain” is the harrowing image the sticks with you, but Simone’s vocal makes a song of weariness and defeat carry an air of defiance, a wise word from someone who survived to tell the tale. –Mark Richardson 

Listen: “Fodder on Her Wings”

“Stars”

Let It Be Me

1987

Simone first covered Janis Ian’s searing, mordant meditation on fame during her infamous set at the 1976 Montreux Jazz Festival; suffering from bipolar disorder, she goes through something like a mental breakdown during the performance. (The scene is a highlight of Liz Garbus’ Oscar-nominated documentary What Happened, Miss Simone?) This spine-tingling 1987 version—Simone’s best, most coherent rendition—was recorded live at Hollywood’s intimate Vine Street Bar & Grill for Let It Be Me.

Written by Ian when she was just 20, “Stars” is a potent critique of star-making machinery: The narrator is both a weary observer of fame, watching faded stars who live their lives in “sad cafés and music halls,” and a tragic figure undone by fame herself. Simone’s embittered, conversational phrasing transforms the song into a cosmically exhausted, stream-of-consciousness rant. She sounds so nakedly weary and afflicted with pathos, you worry she might not even make it to the last verse. But ultimately, Simone’s piano accompaniment builds to a rousing, show-must-go-on climax: “I’ll come up singing for you even though I’m down.” Break out the Kleenex: Few other songs in Simone’s arsenal can make you truly grasp the toll she paid for being alive and giving us her music. –Jason King

Listen: “Stars”

“Papa, Can You Hear Me?”

A Single Woman

1993

In 1993, Nina Simone recorded and released her last studio album, A Single Woman. Living in Southern France, she was lured back into the booth by Elektra A&R executive Michael Alago, who brought major label marketing dollars and seasoned producers and orchestrators. Taken from the 1983 Barbra Streisand film Yentl and penned by Alan Bergman, Marilyn Bergman, and Michel Legrand, “Papa, Can You Hear Me?” is a powerhouse musical theater showstopper that no one would mistake for a conventional jazz standard. But Simone—who starts the song with an allusion to the Negro spiritual “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot”—slyly reconstructs it as an interior, howling lament for her father, who passed away in the early 1970s while they were estranged.

Backed by swelling strings, Simone pulls every ounce of melancholic emotion out of the heart-wrenching lyrics. As the chords ramp up, so does her quivering voice; every time she tackles the song’s falling Middle Eastern vocals runs, it sounds like tears streaming down her face. One of her most dramatic performances captured on record, “Papa, Can You Hear Me?” finds Nina Simone working through the despair of her own orphanhood, exorcising her troubled relationship with the men who defined aspects of her complicated life. How fitting that her final album—a musical commentary on what it means to be a mature, single woman living in exile—captures such pure, unadulterated human feeling. –Jason King

Listen: “Papa, Can You Hear Me?”

[lgg5989]

Church Encounters Chapter 9

Hey guys! Thanks to everyone for your continued support of this fic, @barbiewritesstuff and I are having a great time writing it. She is posting this on her tumblr as well so jump over and give her a like or a comment. You can find the previous chapters on my Masterlist, and you can read the whole series so far on my Ao3! I made the moodboard, I hope you enjoy it! :D

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Tagging: @roosterscock​  

Jake didn’t usually help with the teens but Bob had convinced him a few weeks after Christmas that it wouldn’t be bad. His only experience was with three to seven year olds, even at home, so now that he was sitting with the sixteen years olds he found he didn’t really know what to say. He couldn’t really ask what their mummy and daddy did for work, or if they had learned any cool dinosaur facts at school, or even if they had learned any fun things in Sunday school. Jake was feeling way out of his depth. The campfire had been a good idea, the country boy inside him was satisfied, but that didn’t help that the few months of planning felt like a waste now that he was here. 

It felt like being back in highschool. The kids were all talking amongst themselves, in cliques and groups, it was the same type of gossip too. Who was dating who, who was breaking up, did you hear what Patricia said to Joan, I heard Millie’s parents are getting divorced. Really, the entire thing was making him panic. 

Jake desperately wanted to take a walk and shake off the feeling, but the rational part of his brain, the one that was keeping him firmly seated on the uncomfortable log next to Bob, was reminding him that he was in his thirties now, he was an adult. It didn’t really do much to make him feel better.

“You okay, man?” Bob’s youth ministering partner asked, he was a lanky dude with a goatee and an uncanny resemblance to Shaggy from Scooby Doo. Jake didn’t know his name, the man had been way too absorbed by playing the bongos by himself for most of the evening to bother with introductions. 

“I feel like I’m back at school again,” Jake said, taking a swig from his bottle of coke. One thing had changed since High School at least, his taste buds had stopped liking sugary drinks. 

“I getcha, man,” the man replied, “I’m Freddie,” he added, sticking out his hand for Jake to shake, “though I can’t see why you wouldn’t like high school.” 

Jake snorted. Where to begin, really? He hadn’t always been big and muscular, that was the result of a pretty drastic lifestyle change when he entered basic training. Jake had been awkwardly long and lanky for most of his life, coupled with a few unfortunate hairstyles and the ability to somehow turn every conversation into talking about the Lord, teenage Jake Seresin had been less than popular.

He’d started being mean on purpose then, a skill he now exercised liberally as a sort of shield he regretted having developed at all. Still, the Seresin charm eventually appeared and things started to look up in senior year. Despite his brand new friends, he’d never managed to shake that strange awkwardness and defensive aggressivity about him. 

“I liked leaving highschool,” Jake replied, knowing it cleared nothing up and unwilling to expand.

One of the kids snorted, “I don’t believe that,” he said, “You seem like the kind of guy who’d have dated the cheer captain or something,” he added. 

“Don’t pay him any mind,” Freddie said, “He’s going through his first big boy breakup.”

Freddie had said it in such a mocking way that Jake found himself disliking the man even before the sentence was finished.

“That sucks, kid, I’m sorry. Trust me, I know what it feels like,” Jake said.

The kid looked at him for a second, “You do?”

“Sure,” Jake smiled, “What’s your name?”

“Peter Marshall,” the kid replied.

“Well, Peter Marshall, my first ‘big boy breakup’ was with a girl called Stacey Callahan. We met at my cousin’s weekly Dungeons and Dragons night and we dated for all of senior year. Like all teens, I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with her. I thought we were going to go to college with her, get married, buy a house, have 2.5 kids, you know. The whole nine yards. And then, the day before we were leaving for college, I found out she was cheating on me with my cousin. I think I cried for a whole week straight,” Jake said his best adult voice. 

“Stacey Callahan is a bitch,” Peter concluded, Jake nodded.

“True. But if I hadn’t gone out with Stacey Callahan I wouldn’t have met my girlfriend,” Jake continued, “When I finished crying, I prayed for a while. I really spoke about everything with the Lord, talked about the things I hadn’t updated him on while I was busy with Stacey. Asked him to forgive me for missing church a few times… You know. In the end I also asked him for guidance.” 

“A week later, as I’m still unpacking boxes in my college dorm room, I find that my grandmother has packed me a memory box of my grandfather’s stuff. In that box there’s a pack of letters from my grandfather. He described what it was like to fly and it resonated in me so much that I signed up for the Navy the next day. If I had been with Stacey, I’m sure she’d have talked me out of it. But I signed up for the Navy, went to Top Gun and then I met my girlfriend. She’s everything I have ever prayed for,” Jake finished quietly. He hadn't confessed that to many people. 

Peter considered him for a moment before asking, “Do you think that she was sent to you?” 

Jake let out a laugh, “I don’t know what I did to deserve her but yes, I think she was. But you have to remember that the Lord makes things happen in His own time. I had to wait a few years before I got her, but there was a reason for that, I just don’t know it.” 

“Do you think that you ever will?” he asked Jake. 

It was Jake’s turn to think for a moment, “No, but I don’t think I need to. We need to trust that the Lord has a plan for us, and he will reward our faithfulness and devotion to him with what we need when we need it.” 

Peter nodded. Jake gave him a kind smile before standing up, “Who’s ready for s’mores?”

Jake and Bob made their way to his truck, grabbing the s’mores stuff from the back seat. Before they rejoined the group around the campfire, Jake asked, “You don’t think that was too much do you?”

“Nah, I think you gave him some good stuff to think about. Maybe he will pray on it too,” Bob said, patting Jake on the back, “At least I know you gave me some stuff to pray about.” 

Jake grabbed Bob’s shoulder, “Hey man, I know you’ve had an eye on Maria, and I’m happy for you, just treat her right, okay?”

Jake saw a tint of red come over Bob’s cheeks, “Yeah, I have no doubt that she wouldn’t stand for anything less.” 

“Alright then,” Jake said, “Let’s get these kids some s’mores before their parents come.” 

Bob busied himself distributing the ingredients, and giving each kid a plate and a napkin while Jake stoked the fire. When he sat back down on the log, Jake found that Peter had moved to sit next to him. 

“Can I ask a question?” he asked, his voice sounding a little apprehensive. When Jake nodded, Peter took a deep breath in, “How do I pray? -- I mean I know how to pray, and like, I know the types of prayer but I mean, you know, how do I pray?”

“You’re going to have to be a little clearer,” Jake said. Peter smiled a little.

“You said that your girl was everything you prayed for. I pray everyday: I pray the rosary, I pray the Our Father, I try to talk to the Lord but I don’t know if I’m doing it right,” Peter explained.

Jake was quiet for a minute, thinking his answer through, “Well, the rosary is great, and the Our Father is too, but I think you’re looking at it wrong. You’re looking at prayer like it’s something on your to do list, talking to the Good Lord is more something that needs to be on a schedule, like -- err -- meeting a friend for coffee. Next time you try and sit down with God, maybe look at it like updating your dad on your life, you know? Like you tell him what you’ve been doing, how you’ve been doing. You talk to him about your plans, your hopes, your dreams and what you’re scared of. Just be casual if you have to, you know, just as long as you get the words out. I know some people who write down prayers if they can’t say them, there’s no wrong way, I don’t think. Just make sure that you tell him you love him, you know? Like you’d tell your dad. Tell him you love him and that you’re grateful for the life you have. The Lord put a lot of work into making your life perfect for you, it’s important we let him know we appreciate it.”

Peter was quiet for a moment, drinking in the conversation. Next to Jake, Bob had picked up his guitar. He had put it on his knee, one arm ready to tune the strings, but he hadn’t moved while Jake spoke. Jake felt himself grow self conscious. 

“Maybe -- err -- maybe Bob or Freddie can give a different opinion?” He stuttered out. 

Freddie opened his mouth, but Bob interrupted, “No, I think you explained it very well,” he said, giving Jake a smile.

“It was very genuine,” Peter said, looking at him, “You’re good at this. You’re good at speaking about the Lord and helping people find their ways.”

Jake nodded, “I wanted to be a priest when I was little. I figured learning how to speak was a good idea,” he explained.

“I mean yeah, but that was -- you can’t learn how to find the right words. That’s just you,” Bob said, gently patting his back.

“Was that before Stacey Callahan?” Peter asked, Jake nodded with a shy smile, “So, when you signed up for the navy, being a youth minister was kind of your backup plan?” Peter questioned.

“No. When I signed up for the navy, I figured I had left that all behind, but then I went to Top Gun, managed to piss everyone off and made a grand total of one friend. I was just really lonely, so I went to church on a random Tuesday at like, eleven pm and I was expecting to find it closed. But when I pushed the door, the lock gave way and the door opened. I just kind of walked in and kneeled in front of the altar and prayed for a while.” Jake explained, “Then, I felt a hand on my shoulder and I just about jumped out of my skin, when I turned around Father John was just standing there. I think he thought I was drunk or something, but I stood up, explained everything and told him I was missing home. Halfway through he interrupted me and asked if I wanted to be a youth minister, he thought it would suit me. I said yes and here I am now.”

“Peter’s right, you do know how to tell a story,” one of the girls asked. Jake had felt them looking at him from their log for the entirety of his conversation with Peter. “Why don’t you do the abstinence talk? I bet we’d understand things so much more,” she added. 

Bob had chosen that very unfortunate moment to be drinking from his coke. As soon as she spoke, a laugh came out of his throat and made him choke on the soda, Jake patted him on the back, trying to hide his deer-in-the-headlights look.

“Yeah, Jake,” Bob coughed, “Why don’t you do the talk about abstinence?”

----

The mess hall was booming with people excitedly chatting about the family day that was about to start. With five minutes left to wait on the clock, phones were starting to ring and buzz and siblings had started flocking together. Fanboy had found his sister and had dragged her away from her own friends to join his. Vegas had been dragged away by her brother and Harvard and his brothers had decided to meet in the middle and commandeer a separate table so the four of them could chat and wait. Eventually though, they all joined your table and soon enough, everyone was yelling over everyone else trying to get themselves heard.

“I would appreciate it if you kept the noise down,” Admiral Simpson spoke, his stern voice cutting right through the excitement, “Captain Mitchell, keep your students under control,” he added. Maverick nodded quietly with the facial expression of a man who had no intention of doing what he was told. 

“Dove, Lieutenant Floyd, you seem to be the only ones here not screaming. Help Captain Mitchell keep it down,” he added, shooting you and Bob a look.

“Yeah, sure thing Dad,” you said with a laugh as Bob chuckled into his drink, knowing very well that nothing anyone could say would keep this bunch calm. If family day hadn’t excited them to that point, the seventeen disposable cups of coffee currently littering the table would be enough to cause a commotion. 

It took a second for it to dawn on you but as soon as you had finished your sentence the table had gone quiet.

“Did you just call Admiral Simpson dad?” Vegas snorted. 

The table roared with laughter at your mistake, only Jake and Bob remained serious. You felt a deep blush creep up your face, turning you a lovely shade of fuschia. Seeing your embarrassment, Cyclone decided to step in.

“Your sister’s called, they’ll be late. Although I don’t know why they bother to warn us, I swear Annie would show up late to her own funeral,” he said.

“Wait,” Fanboy said, the smile that had been plastered on his face slowly sliding off, “Are you serious? Is Cyclone your dad?”

“Admiral Simpson, Lieutenant Garcia. And yes, we are serious. Now keep it down,” he said, shooting you a wink, and patting Bob on the back as a goodbye gesture. In the distance you could see Cyclone removing the phone from his back pocket.

Dadclone: Hope they don’t give you too much shit for this…

You could see him standing by the vending machine, pushing a coin into the slot and punching in some numbers, a mischievous smirk plastered on his face. 

‘Bullshit, you live for this,’ you texted back.

Cyclone moved away from the vending machine to stand in the queue for a coffee. He picked up two cups and filled one with black coffee, the other he filled up to the halfway mark and poured milk in to make up the rest. He typed a text with one hand as he fitted the lids on top of the cups.

Dadclone: Watch your language.

Dadclone: (You are right, I live for this)

You let out a chuckle.

‘You evil evil man,’ you replied.

Dadclone: :’)

Dadclone: It’s my revenge for that stupid music set. Just so you know, Elisabeth has already lost a third of it.

Dadclone: Accidentally of course.

‘Of course.’

Cyclone was making his way back to your table. Without saying a word he deposited the two cups of coffee in front of you and Bob, keeping the double decker chocolate bar for himself. Leaving you in the aftermath of his kind gesture with a shit eating grin on his face. Once he had disappeared back into the corridor, your phone buzzed again.

Dadclone: I like being your dad.

The table had been eerily quiet up until that point. Bob raised up the coffee cup to his lips and winced at the boiling hot liquid. On the table, you could see him tapping three of his fingers. He removed a finger, winking at you as you picked up your own coffee and sipped. As his last finger disappeared, Rooster opened his mouth.

“Wow, Hangman… Admiral’s daughter, huh?” Bradley laughed, easing the tension around the table. A few still exchanged nervous glances and Halo looked stupefied, but most had returned to their conversations.

“In my defence, I didn’t know until after Christmas,” Jake replied, shooting you a wink. 

“I spent so many evenings telling you what a hot piece of ass I thought that man was and NEVER did you think to mention he was your DAD?!” Halo shouted so loud that half the mess hall turned to look around. Phoenix choked on her coffee and Coyote patted her back.

“Awww, Halo has a cruush” Fanboy sang, “Halo and Cyclone sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G”

“Leave me alone. There’s nothing wrong with liking older guys,” she said, offended by their teasing. When the boys laughed at her statement, she added, “Why are you fixating on that when he clearly seemed familiar with Bob too. I mean, he gave him a coffee.” 

“I -- maybe -- there’s nothing weird about bringing me a coffee… ‘t’s just a nice gesture,” Bob said, getting quieter as the sentence went on.

Fanboy turned towards him, “No, actually it’s totally not normal. Spill, are you like his kid too,” he joked. Bob thought about it for a moment and Fanboy groaned, hanging his head low.

“I have used too many insults to describe that man around you in the last three years…” he lamented, “You could have just told me, or y’know, asked me to stop, dropped a hint, just give me any indication that saying Cyclone had a stick so far up his ass that he could probably taste it was not a good idea…” 

“Hey man, it’s alright, you didn’t know,” Bob said, trying to make him feel better. 

At that moment Maverick called through the mess hall, “Alright everyone, let's get out to the hanger, they’re about to let people in.” 

When the clock ticked eleven people began streaming through the bases’ gates. The team stood in front of the hangar with Maverick, waiting to be spotted. Penny and Amelia were the first to make their way. Harvard’s family joined them in second, followed by Coyote’s, Halo’s, Yale’s and then, Phoenix’s. Chatter filled the echoing space, making it seem much more crowded than it actually was. 

“I’m going to get some fresh air,” you told Jake, who was deep in conversation with Coyote. He smiled at you in acknowledgement. 

You found an overturned metal box to sit on, not wanting to get your uniform dirty. 

San Diego had been unusually rainy for the past two weeks, soaking everything in a coat of mud and watermarks. But today, as if the sky had known about family day on base, the clouds had vanished to make way for a beautiful blue sky, golden sun and warm temperature. The only reminder of the almost constant storm left were the puddles yet to dry on the tarmac. 

“Got room for one more?” Bob asked, gently pushing you to the side of your box so he could keep himself dry too. 

“Maria is coming,” you said.

Bob turned away from you slightly so you wouldn’t catch his smile, “I know. She texted me, we’re going on a date tonight,” he said, forgetting to hide his grin, “You sure Jake doesn’t have a problem with it?” Bob asked, with worry in his tone.

Jake had gone through stages. At first he had been accepting, then, after a week, he had grown crabby at the thought of his baby sister possibly dating one of his friends, and now, he had turned right around to be accepting. You knew though, that deep down, Jake was excited about having Bob as a brother. 

“No,” you said, “he’s happy for you. He knows you’ll treat Maria right, and he knows that if you don’t Maria will be more than happy to set you straight,” you added. Bob chuckled a little.

“Speaking of, I think that’s them, isn’t it?” he said, pointing towards a group of people now making their way to hangar six. Even in the distance, you could see Isabella’s exasperated facial expression and Tony’s shit eating grin. 

Maria waved at you and you waved back, next to you, Bob jumped up from his seat and dusted off his uniform with a deep exhale. He looked at you with a smile, “I have it bad, right?”

“I don’t think you’ll recover,” you joked as Jake’s family steadily approached. They were now only a few feet away. 

“Y/n , it is so good to see you!” Isabella said, kissing your cheeks before moving on to Bob, “Where is my son?” she asked.

Jake stepped out of the hangar behind her as soon as he heard her voice. Despite having excused himself from whatever conversation he had been engaged in inside, Coyote and Fanboy had followed him out. Jake hadn’t invited anyone to family day before and everyone was curious to know the people responsible for Hangman. You could see in their faces that they hadn’t expected Isabella and Giovanni, however. 

“I’m here. I’m here --” Jake started.

“Pensavo di averti cresciuto meglio! Smetti di rispondere a tua madre!” Isabella chastised him, clearly upset Jake had turned off his phone. 

“Il mio telefono ha esaurito la batteria,” Jake lied. When he caught your eye, he winked, you knew damn well his phone hadn’t died, "Buongiorno" he told everyone. 

“Ci presenti i tuoi amici?” Tony asked, nodding towards Fanboy and Coyote who had now been joined by Rooster and Maverick. They too seemed to be waiting for an introduction.

“Sure. Can we switch back to english?” Jake said, sounding a little annoyed at the show his family was putting on. 

Giovanni huffed, “Come mai? L'italiano non ti basta adesso? Stai diventando un americano?” his voice had been meant as a joking jab, you’re sure, but there was real venom in the words, ‘Italian not good enough for you? Are you becoming American?’

Jake rolled his eyes, ignoring his father’s outraged questions, “This is Fanboy,” he tapped the man on his shoulder, Mickey waved a little, “This is Coyote, he’s my friend from the academy,” Javi nodded slightly, “This is Rooster,” he turned towards Tony, “guarda quei ridicoli baffi.”

“Hey!” Rooster exclaimed at Jake’s jab, “Watch what you’re saying, I do speak Italian. And my moustache is classy, not ridiculous. ”

“You speak Italian?” Jake asked, surprised. 

“Yeah I was stationed in Rome for a year after Top Gun,” Rooster explained, “I picked up some of the language.” he shrugged. Jake looked a little impressed. 

“This is Maverick,” he said, pointing at the instructor standing next to Rooster, “Do you speak Italian?” he asked, when Mav shook his head, he turned back to his family, “E quello che ho buttato fuori dal bar,” he said towards Tony. He’d told the story of throwing Mav out of the bar a million times by now and it never failed to make others laugh. Tony tried to hold in a smile.

“It’s not the full team, but everyone else is busy. We might see them later though,” Jake concluded, “Now, what are you doing here. I don’t remember inviting you,” he told Tony.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot, Jake Seresin is too cool for his family. First you renounce Italian, now your brother… What’s next? The Catholic church?” Tony replied, earning himself some shocked gasps from his wife and mother and a sharp pinch on the arm from his father.

“Non scherziamo su cose del genere,” Giovanni Senior growled menacingly. Jake looked at his brother for a moment as Tony tried to evade his gaze. Implying a rejection of the Catholic church was almost a death sentence for the Seresins, which Tony wouldn’t even think of doing under normal circumstances. Jake narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“What are you hiding?” Jake asked. Everyone turned around to look at Tony. He’d never been good under stress, you had seen it when the boys had played poker at Christmas. Tony had a tick, whenever he bluffed, or someone asked something that made him uncomfortable, his eyebrow twitched. You saw the concentration in Tony’s face as he desperately tried to control the muscle.

He was saved from his involuntary muscle spasm when Annie shouted your name, her long blonde hair flowing in the wind as she ran towards you, and Audrey hot on her heels. You detached yourself from the group and joined them halfway. 

“Oh my God, I have missed you so much!” she exclaimed, grabbing your face in both of her hands and kissing your forehead, “Look at you! You look gorgeous!” 

Annie engulfed you in a bone breaking hug, “Annie, let her breathe for a moment,” Audrey said, engulfing you in her own arms as soon as her eldest sister let go. 

“I thought I heard a noise!” Cyclone’s voice rang behind you, “How is it that in a base full of people, I can only hear you?” he joked.

“It’s because you love us. Your ears are trained to recognise our voices,” Annie joked, hugging him tightly, this time Audrey didn’t wait for her sister to let go before hugging too. 

“I do love you, you are right.” he said, hugging back, “So, have you two met Y/n’s boyfriend yet, or will this be the first time?”

“We briefly met on the phone,” Jake replied for them, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, “Ladies, it is a pleasure to finally meet in person.”

“Huh,” Annie said, “I thought you’d be taller.”

“Yeah, I’m the runt of the litter,” he joked, nodding back to Tony and Giovanni who were standing there talking to Maverick, towering over everyone else, “I make up for it in humour though,” he said, earning himself an approving smile off of Audrey.

“Well, it’s lovely to meet you too. You really should introduce her to your friend, she might lighten up a little,” Audrey laughed while Annie rolled her eyes, “It would be good for you. You wouldn’t smother me as much,” she turned towards you, “She tried tying my shoelaces for me this morning.”

Audrey put down her handbag and took off her scarf, swinging it over Cyclone’s shoulder before taking off her coat and folding it into her bag.

“I work in a nursery, it’s a habit,” Annie defended herself, “But please do introduce me to your friend,” she asked Jake, a hint of desperation in her voice.

“Now, which friend are we talking about?” Cyclone interjected, placing a protective arm over Annie and Audrey’s shoulders.

“Rooster,” you and Jake answered simultaneously. Cyclone paused for a minute. He looked at Bradley and then at Annie, “I can see it,” he said.

“Girls, as much as I would love to show you around with Y/n, I have some work to do. I won’t be free today. Maybe we can grab a coffee tomorrow and catch up?” he added.

“Sure,” you agreed, turning away to walk back to the hangar, “Come on, I’ll show you my plane.” 

Cyclone had already walked away when Audrey realised he had taken her scarf with him. “Admiral,” she screamed with no effect, “Admiral,” she tried again. So much for only being able to hear them, you could see her think, “DAD!” she finally screamed, taking a leaf out of your book. He turned around with a puzzled look. As Audrey tapped her own shoulder, Cyclone looked down to find what had caused the commotion. He jogged back towards them and gave it back with a kiss to her cheek, before kissing you and Annie on the forehead one last time. 

Jake pressed a kiss to your head, “I’m going to show my family around but we should get dinner together tonight okay?”

“Sounds good,” you said, giving him a brilliant smile and a kiss on his lips, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he said back before turning to your sisters, “Have a good day ladies, I’ll see you again tonight.” 

“Bye Jake,” Annie and Audrey called out after him. They both turned to you then, Audrey speaking first, “Okay so I know we said he was liquid fire on that video call but damn Y/N, he is like molten lava in person. I need to find myself a fighter pilot.” 

You laughed at her, “Well lucky for you there is a whole base of them here.” 

Before they could continue on the conversation you started to walk away from them, “Come on, let’s go see my plane.” 

Following behind you, your sisters chatted, occasionally pulling you into the conversation as well. The day on base passed quickly. Annie and Audrey oo-ed and ah-ed over your plane and the different training equipment that they saw as well as some of the other equipment that the Navy had brought out for the day. By the time the afternoon set in, you were exhausted and your voice was tired of being used. 

“Do you two want to come back to my apartment before dinner?” you asked them, “I bought a bottle or two of that wine we like.” 

“That sounds lovely,” Annie said, trying to fan herself with a pamphlet that she had picked up along the way, “Indiana is brutal but it is hot hot hot, today.” 

You laughed, “Yeah, you get used to it,” you said, walking with them back to the parking lot. 

They climbed into your car chatting the whole way home. All three of you let out sighs as the cool air inside the apartment hit your hot bodies. Annie sat down on the couch and took off her shoes, “This is what heaven feels like,” she said as she laid her head back on the cushion.

You and Audrey laughed as you popped open the bottle of wine, “Now it’s heaven,” you said, passing her a glass. 

It was only three and you had agreed to meet Jake and his family for dinner around five. When you made the plans with him that morning, he promised to pick you and your sisters up. When the three of you were together things had a tendency to get rowdy quickly, and today was no exception. 

The two hours passed quickly, and promptly at five there was a sharp knock on the door. You practically skipped down the hall before wrenching the door open, and excited, “Jakey!’ leaving your mouth. 

“Darlin’,” he said questioningly, accepting the hug that you pulled him into before pushing you back slightly to see why you were in such a good mood. The loud laughter coming from within the apartment as well as the sound of pop music started to clue him into what you had been up to, he cracked a smile before asking, “You doin’ some pregaming?” 

You laughed, “Well when we got back a glass of wine sounded so nice, but now that I think about it, I can’t remember the last time we ate.” 

Jake shook his head, “Well we better get you ladies to dinner then, are you ready?” 

Pulling him into the apartment, you pushed the door closed, “I think so, let me gather them up.” 

The drive to the Hard Deck was interesting from Jake’s perspective. The three women with him kept singing to the radio and every now and then Annie and Audrey would let out loud awes at your hand holding. 

When you got there, Jake helped you out of his truck before leading everyone inside. His family had gotten there early, claiming a table towards the back of the place. The kitchen was open until ten so there was plenty of time still to order food. As the night progressed, you had sobered up, but your sisters were down to have a good time. 

Tony had his hands full trying to keep up dancing with Audrey, he was the only one you trusted to make sure she didn’t wander off, and you were sure that Sofia wouldn’t mind since she hadn’t been able to come. 

You had lost sight of Annie a few hours ago, but Jake had eased your anxious looks when he pointed her and Rooster out to you, they were leaned up against the bar talking. 

As Tony and Audrey rejoined you and Jake at the table, he looked at his brother, “So Tony, where is Sofia, I would have loved to see her here.” 

His eyebrow started twitching, “Ah…well you know…she was feeling a bit under the weather…thought it might be a cold…so she decided to stay home.” 

Jake laughed deeply, “Just tell us Tony, you’re a shit liar.” 

Tony grumbled, “Oh lei mi ucciderà…She will kill me, I swear… Sofia is pregnant!” he finished excitedly. 

Everyone at the table cheered, Isabella even going as far as shedding a few tears, “Mio figlio, my son, another baby! How exciting!” 

“I knew you were hiding something!” Jake cheered, “Congratulations man! How’s Sofia feeling about it?”

“She was over the moon when we found out and now that the morning sickness is in full swing, she glares at me whenever I enter a room…” Tony joked, “I get it though, she’s having a rough go of it. It was the same with Catalina, so hopefully it eases up as the pregnancy goes on.” 

Jake nodded, his mouth opened to say something, but you spoke first, “How is Catalina?”

“We haven’t told her yet. You guys are actually the first to know, so I would appreciate it if you kept it quiet.” Tony said, addressing the last part to the whole table.

Everyone chimed in with ‘of course’’s and ‘for sure’’s, and Tony relaxed, everyone had noticed how tense he was before but nobody had said anything about it. 

You looked around, realising that you hadn’t seen Maria and Bob in a while. Turning to Jake, you asked, “What are Maria and Bob up to tonight?” 

“Well Maria said that he was taking her to the boardwalk, they are going to take the ferry into San Diego for part of the night I think, there was a street fair or something he had heard about,” Jake whispered in your ear, not wanting the rest of his family to spoil their night. 

“Oh that’s nice for them,” you said, glancing down at your watch, “We should probably leave soon, or these two will be nightmares to get to church tomorrow morning.” 

Jake laughed, “Alright, let's round them up then.” 

He drove you home, the truck quiet except for the sound of the wind blowing through the open windows. In the distance you could hear the gentle melody of fairground music rising through the air. You smiled at Jake, “We should go some day.” 

“Sure, I thought you didn’t like rollercoasters, though,” Jake said, giving you a nervous look. 

“I’m sure I’ll be okay with what they have, if not, I guess I’ll just have to hold your candy cane,” you replied, moving your hand from your lap to rest on top of his over the gear stick.

Your phone buzzed in your lap. You unlocked the device to see a text from Bob, it was a picture. The photograph had been taken from the top of the ferris wheel where Bob and seemed to be sitting with one arm over Mara’s shoulders. She was leaning into him, her head on his shoulder and one of her hands laying flat against his torso. Behind them, the San Diego skyline stretched far, the lights and lamps throughout the city shining bright in the phone’s front facing camera. Another text came in a minute later, “Thinking of you guys, did you have a nice evening?”

“I take it it’s going well?” you texted back, “Evening went well, my sisters got plastered.”

Bobby boy: Yes! We’re getting off the wheel now, I think we’re going for hot dogs after. Nice, I want to meet them properly, they seem fun.

“We’re meeting dad for lunch after church tomorrow, tag along?” you asked. Bob sent back a yellow thumbs up.

----

The next morning was rough to say the least. Your sisters awoke with moans and groans from all the drinks the night before, but after a few Tylenol and a cup of coffee each, they were up and ready to go. The drive to church was quiet save for the praise playlist that you had turned on. 

When you arrived, they both got out, pinning their chapel veils to their heads. This is the part of the day that you were dreading the most. You pulled out the chapel veil that Jake bought you for Christmas and began pinning it to your head. Upon seeing the lace fabric that you were using, Annie and Audrey both stopped walking beside you. 

“Y/N, what is that?” Annie asked quietly. 

“What?” you asked, trying to play dumb. 

Audrey sighed, “Don’t play dumb. That’s a new chapel veil.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, “Jake got it for me.” 

“Why did he do that?” they both asked. 

“Um…because he wanted to be nice?” you said, but the nerves laced into your voice gave you away. 

“What happened to grandma’s?” Annie asked, her face more stern than you had ever seen it. 

“Um…about that…when I was at Jake’s family’s for Thanksgiving his niece went through my bag and she accidentally ripped it…she is only two and she didn’t know better, but its…its ruined,” you said, tears coming to your eyes once again at the thought of what happened. 

Annie’s face softened at that, and she pulled you into a hug, “Hey, it's alright. You took such good care of it for so many years, something was bound to happen sooner or later.” 

At that moment, you felt a hand on your back, Annie let you go and you turned to see Jake, he was giving you a concerned look, “You okay?” 

You nodded, wiping away your tears, “Yeah, I’m alright.” 

He pulled you into his side, squeezing you there gently before taking your hand in his and leading the way into the church. Audrey and Annie sat with the two of you in the back row, Jake’s family sitting to his right and you and your sisters sitting to his left. A few minutes before mass started, Cyclone came in with Elizabeth and joined the group on your side of the pew. 

Jake still pressed a kiss to your cheek when sharing peace and held your hand during the Our Father. At the end of mass, he bid you goodbye, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’ll see you after your lunch?” he asked. 

“Yeah, I’ll let you know once I get these two dropped off at the airport,” you replied smiling. 

Jake bid your sisters goodbye before leaving with his own family, they were headed to their own breakfast before the Seresin clan headed back to Texas. They all gave you a hug, Isabella pressing a gentle kiss to both of your cheeks, before they climbed into Giovanni Senior’s truck and followed Jake into town. 

The diner you were meeting Cyclone at was just down the street. Annie and Audrey took off their chapel veils and tucked them into their luggage carefully before the three of you drove to breakfast, parking the car next to Elizabeth’s SUV and Bob’s Astra

“Hey kids,” Cyclone called out, ushering his brood into the diner, “You ready for some breakfast?” 

“Ready as ever Dad,” Annie called out with a smile, the three of you making your way up the stairs into the building. 

Cyclone gave each of you a side hug, holding the door open and bringing up the back just behind you. Your group was crowded together for a minute before the hostess had gathered enough menus to take you to a table. 

The eleven of you enjoyed the meal and at the end, with much protesting from Annie, Audrey, Bob, and yourself, Cyclone picked up the whole bill, simply saying, “I don’t get to take my adoptive kids out to breakfast as much as I would like, let me treat you.” 

When it was time to be headed to the airport you all made your goodbyes. Annie and Audrey were both a little tearful when giving Cyclone and Elizabeth hugs. They might not be your parents, but they were sure as hell the closest thing you had for a long time. 

You dropped your sisters off at the airport with hugs, tears, and the promise that you would see them on your next long leave. You stood at the bottom of the escalators watching as they rose to the security floor, giving one last wave before they were out of sight. 

Climbing back in your car, you sent Jake a text. 

Girls dropped off, heading home :(

Jakey <3: I’ll meet you there. 

Jakey <3: My family just left too. 

While family day was nice, it was always hard saying goodbye. As if the weather could sense your mood, it started to rain softly on your way home. Jake was waiting for you at your apartment when you arrived, and he had already picked out a movie to watch. You smiled when you recognized the beginning of the film, Pride and Prejudice (2005) was your comfort movie. You hadn’t mentioned that to Jake more than once, but he must have remembered. 

After changing from your church dress to a pair of warm sweatpants and a t-shirt you snuggled up next to him on the couch. You laid your head on his shoulder, inhaling his clean, manly scent. He squeezed you to his side, no words were needed to communicate the melancholy that you were feeling. The afternoon passed in a blur and the last thing you thought before falling asleep was how even the stupidly handsome Matthew Macfayden had nothing on how Jake had looked while standing in the rain. 

[blackcrookedoak]

An excerpt from the book:

___

It seemed near everybody in Silver Sands was out tonight, to hear the doctor. “Friends and neighbors, welcome! Gather yourselves up close, now,” a voice boomed from where the wagon waited. “I will disclose to you the latest epiphanies of the learned men of science!” The doctor was younger than Rebekah might have guessed, from his booming voice, and his blustery bravado. He wore a smart gray suit, and pomaded brown curls. A blue silk cravat sat in a bright puff at his throat. It matched his eyes: they were piercing, with a shrewd gleam. His name, according the vivid green placard hanging from his wagon’s roof, was: Dr. Theodore Haywood Lamb. Compounds to Cure-All, Elixirs to Elicit Excellence! The crowd had grown, pushing forward towards the wagon. People from town, people who rode in from the outskirts. Rebekah noted each face, familiar or strange. There was Miss Jenny Roberts, the old maid who did mending from her little house down the way, lowering her round spectacles to peer at the doctors’ dark glass bottles. There was the young dentist, with an arm around his wife’s shoulders. There were local farmhands, and farriers, and the town marshal Mort Jones, who watched the crowd more than the show, just like her. The marshal spotted her, and her uncle. Uncle Jeb gave him a stern nod, overly officious. It was difficult to tell whether he feared the man more, or loathed him. Then another look flashed in his eyes, predatory, when he saw a different man walk by. “Mr. Plowright,” Jeb called, “a word, if you will.” He took the man by the arm, and she knew what a hard hold he had.

A few ladies lingered outside the audience, wearing fine, full skirts and high bustles. They were peacocks among all the pigeons. Rebekah couldn’t recognize them by sight, but they must have been Miss Angela’s girls, gussied up for nighttime. During the day, when they visited the store for thread or linens like anybody else, their faces weren’t painted, and they wore flat skirts, but they were kind and friendly. That was what mattered to her. Still, it wasn’t a surprise they caught the eyes of the men. Including some Rebekah had never seen, clustered past the far end of the wagon. They didn’t look like trail riders, who stopped in town to drink and wash off the dust. And they weren’t so rough-edged as the ranchers—at least in their clothes, if not their manners. They were fine-looking men, in clean suits. One was broad, in a black coat and low hat, his beard thick and dark. Another, lanky and bright blond, with a wild look in his blue eyes. The third was half-hidden in shadow, until he stepped into the lantern light. Rebekah couldn’t help but stare. Brown hair brushed his collar and fringed his cheek. It fell over a pink and vicious scar that stretched across the sharp bridge of his nose. His jaw looked hard as iron, but there was a softness to his mouth. He was young, she would have bet, as young as herself. But unlike her, he’d lived, and the living left its mark. Lantern light sparked off a gilt-edged pistol, heavy in his low-slung gun belt. It near matched his eyes: burning hazel, deep gold in the dark, like buried treasure. The other two men talked in low tones, throwing sly smiles at Angela’s girls, but not him. He stared right back at her. Those dark gold eyes roamed over her. Somehow she felt him searching her out, seeking something she meant to keep hidden. He seemed less a man than a rangy coyote in the brush. Lonely, hungry, wanting. And what he wanted was Rebekah. She turned her own eyes to the ground. Her breath caught in her chest, heat rising to her throat, and falling low into her belly, between her legs. She might have blamed the warm night for her blushing, or the stiff dress buttoned tight at her neck. But she could not ignore the desire in his stare. How it echoed in her. The stranger, he wasn’t the first man who ever looked her over. This was different. No man had ever looked at her like that. There were times Rebekah feared Jeb may not have been entirely wrong about the state of her mind. A storm of feelings swelled and thundered inside her all the time. They were as unruly as dust devils, sudden and awful as lightning. A few moments ago, she might have wept right there in the street, helpless to forget her heartbreak. Now, she imagined striding right up to this rough stranger and letting him take her in his arms. Imagined his hands finding what they searched for. She let out a shaky sigh. It had to be unnatural, in some way, this mess inside her. “—and he’s a worthless bastard,” Jeb spat in a low voice. He was beside her again, shaking his head at the ground, so agitated she could feel the anger steaming off him. “What?” she asked softly, for she’d only half-heard him. Jeb had menace in his eyes. He seized her shoulder, his grasp powerfully hard. “Don’t poke your nose into my affairs,” he muttered. “My business ain’t no concern of yours.” She winced. “Fine. I’m sorry,” she said. “You ought to—“ Then he sputtered, and let go of her shoulder. Someone walked into him, bumping him off balance. “Watch where you walk, mister.” Jeb brushed the lapel of his faded frock coat. The man turned around. Rebekah saw the scar first, then his eyes. It was the stranger. “You watch yourself,” he told Jeb. His voice was throaty and raw. It sent a shiver through Rebekah. Jeb puffed up, about to snap back, but the stranger took a step closer. He had a few inches on Jeb, and he made them count. “What are you gonna do?” the stranger asked. Jeb didn’t have an answer. He may have been nasty to Rebekah, when others wouldn’t notice, in ways no one would notice, but he had neither the talent nor the nerve to fight a man one on one. And all three of them knew it. The stranger raised a hand to his hat, and brushed the tip of it. All the while he stared at her. “Miss.” His eyes lingered a moment, before he looked away, walking away from the crowd, into the night.

[luminouscyst]

top 100 songs:

#95 - Dum Surfer by King Krule

Dumb surfer is giving me his cash. Won a bet for fifty and now I need a slash. Man this band that's playing, is playing fucking trash. Skunk and onion gravy, as my brain's potato mash.

“Dum Surfer” is at times reminiscent of trip hop, jazz, and punk, somehow fused into one cohesive sound. Singer Archy Marshall was no older than 22 when he wrote the song. He’s a lanky ginger Brit, and you might never expect his voice to come out of that face.

The track is gritty, and it’s got an ominous sort of drone that might make your hair stand on end. His voice sounds aggressive and relentless here. The lyrics evoke unpleasant imagery of being deliriously wasted, vomiting on a sidewalk, and experiencing car crashes. The moment his vocal assault pauses, a guitar or sax jumps in to fill its space. The drums verge on hypnotic, staying constant even as the song fades out. It’s not a clean song; it feels raw, grimy, and atmospheric. That’s what I like about it.

[fantasmaz-arc]

happy branger brings day. here we go.

CONNOR HUBBARD   :   member of the hellfire club. weird lanky ginger. senior at hawkins. thinks he’s street smart because he could probably survive a horror movie at least most of one. fc : archy marshall but like circa 2013.

LEO HUNT  :   transfer student from california who has no idea what the fuck he just walked into. might be a band kid ??? might be a little stylish ??? idk he’s been brewing in my head without any other substance than that for a while so. fc : lucas bin.

ROXIE KRAUSS  :   once a popular cheerleader, now a burnout chainsmoker addicted to rock ‘n’ roll. accidentally kind of a mean girl but is mostly just miserable with everything. fc : odeya rush. ** old ass muse, so many iterations, might make a sideblog for her but who’s to say ???

TALULLAH MICHEL  :   just wants to watch her silly little cartoons and smoke her silly little weed and listen to her silly little suicidal tendencies but everything gets real fucked up when she finds her sister’s corpse in a bizarre state. fc : paulina alexis. might also make a sideblog for her. who knows.

ENZO HUGHES  :   ittle hockey player boy who has no idea what’s going on but incredibly resourceful because he fears absolutely nothing and will little do anything for the vine. found a demodog in his backyard, fed it some dunkaroos out of curiosity, and then he had to bludgeon it to death with a hockey stick and has never been the same. fc : jack hughes. *** new final boy muse with a main verse with original horror lore, but i’m just so hyped to play him in the st universe that i’m like. whatever about that rn.

[tehuti88-art]

4/27/24: r/SketchDaily theme, "Animal Alliteration." Not knowing the exact animal alliteration theme ahead of time, and knowing from repeat experience that if I submit art later in the day it won't be seen, I've decided to go off theme today, BUT if this turns out to be an entire alphabet thing, I'll simply submit each theme the following day. (EDIT, I see it's a one-off. So all right...I guess my artwork today...is a distinguished Doberman! 😋 )

Today's work is one I've been wanting to do for a while. I'm disappointed in that he bears the same looking-down-my-nose glower as my earlier "Herr Himmel" art, but otherwise it's mostly okay. Perhaps a future attempt will turn out even better.

Rough practice sketch.

Character and design notes will be in my art Tumblr, tehuti88-art.

TUMBLR EDIT: This is Freiherr Louis (von) Dobermann, of course. He already has a detailed writeup HERE, with more info HERE, HERE, and HERE. His Toyhou.se page (full profile not up yet) is HERE.

Dobermann here wears an old-fashioned Prussian-inspired outfit (I didn't include the rough sketch's epaulets, too fancy), with the kepi (AKA "that f**king hat") he was given by the city authorities, along with the honorary title Inspector, following his monetary contributions during the flu pandemic. He also earned the nickname "Der Wächter Der Stadt," or Watchman of the City, thus the label on his kepi. He hates this hat, but grudgingly wears it for official meetings.

I took massive and mostly intentional artistic liberties with his medal. It's an Iron Cross First Class from WWI. From what I read, these had no ribbon, and were not worn around the neck. The Iron Cross Second Class did have a ribbon--copied here--yet also was not worn around the neck. The similar Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross could be thus worn, but it was established in WWII, meaning Dobey did not earn one. (Lt. Hesse has this medal.) Now, I'm puzzled, while looking for images I came across one from WWI (meaning, not the Knight's Cross), showing some official German guy, appearing to be wearing an Iron Cross at his throat. I finally located it again: Field Marshal Paul von Hindenburg awards the Iron Cross to soldiers of the 3rd Foot Guards, of which he was part of in his early career. Date and place unkown. Fotoarchiv für Zeitgeschichte (1915). Now, that could be some completely different medal, I don't know, the Iron Crosses are like all I know. (Don't get me started on wound badges or whatever.) But it looks like an Iron Cross, around his neck. I didn't know they weren't worn like this when I drew the sketch, but did look it up before the final drawing. Although Wikipedia and Quora say otherwise, I decided to give my First Class a Second Class ribbon, and put it around Dobey's neck. He loathes wearing his medal almost as much as he hates the hat, so again, he must be attending some dreadful social function.

I wish I had the skill for a full-body portrait, to emphasize Dobey's build: Tall (maybe around 6'4" or 6'5"), lanky, broad shouldered yet narrow waisted, a V shape. Contrasted with Hesse, who much resembles him, yet is a bit shorter (I think 6'3") and more muscular.

Please see the links above for Dobey's character history, which I needn't rehash here.

[Freiherr von Dobermann [‎Saturday, ‎April ‎27, ‎2024, ‏‎12:00:20 AM]]

[naturecoaster]

Dade City Historical Walking Tour Opens: Official Launch to be November 9 at Pioneer Florida Museum

Story by Madonna Jervis Wise In April of 2022, Margaret Angell, President of the Dade City Merchant’s Association, and Mary Katherine Mason Alston, a Veteran of the Marines (who owns Lanky Lassies Shortbread in Dade City), solicited historian/author, Madonna Wise to coordinate the research of historical Dade City from the view of a historical walking and QR tour. Historian Madonna, a retired school administrator and former history teacher, has written thirteen local history books, two of which focus heavily on Dade City where she worked with the preservation board and served for several years as the President of the Pasco Historical Association. Mary Katherine was impressed with the self-guided historical tours of Savannah and St. Augustine (to name a few) and was inspired by Dennis and Nancy Alfonso, her neighbors who enjoyed weekend excursions throughout historical Florida towns to learn about the history. The Alfonsos often exclaimed, why doesn’t Dade City have a walking tour? Soon the team recruited Melody Floyd of the Greater Dade City Chamber, Stephanie Bracknell Black, Executive Director of the Pioneer Florida Museum & Village, Imani Asukile, the founder of the East Pasco African American Historical Society, and Eric Baker who was then working on a newspaper prototype, The Dade City Wire. The research was on warp speed. Stephanie convinced Wayne Sweat, a historian and re-enactor with a melodious voice reminiscent of Ken Burn’s Academy Award-winning Peter Coyote to do the extensive narration recording. In addition, retired Judge Lynn Tepper joined in to assist with consultation and editing. Madonna and Lynn had a history of projects throughout the years such as the Multiagency Council and Truancy Arbitration, so the opportunity to work together again was synergistic. In addition, Judge Tepper consulted on an array of locations where she had worked. About ten months into the development, Madonna realized the tour was not going to come to fruition without the assistance of a technology guru. With some help from the neighboring community, she convinced Britton Janning to formulate an easy-to-use and appealing look. You can see the masterpiece which continues to unfold at https://dadecityhistory.org/ 1 Our team of developers of the Dade City Historical Tour includes row one Margaret Angell, Madonna Wise, and Wayne Sweat; row 2 Melody Floyd and Stephanie Black; row 3 Britt Janning and Imani Asukil. It Took a Village of Local Historians to Document this Historical Tour of Dade City Many community members, merchant owners, and historians assisted with the project. Madonna sadly regrets that during the development of the project, the community lost Sylvia Young, Jeff Miller, Stanley Burnside, and Dennis Alfonso.  Anybody reviewing the tour, however, will see these historians and others referenced as they provided consultation. (For example, a tape of Sylvia discussing the 1909 courthouse renovation she was responsible for on Stop 1; Stanley shares the silent movie theaters in Dade City in Stop 44, and Jeff Miller of fivay.org, consulted with Madonna on much of the tour before his passing.) Some of the board members of the Pioneer Museum such as Clyde Hobby consulted while historian Bill Dayton provided endearing anecdotes that reveal the authenticity and charm of Dade City. The Dade City police chief James Walters, also a history buff, developed and recorded a safety message for walking through town, and narrated the history of the Dade City Marshals who evolved to ‘Chiefs’ in stop, #79. Walters brought in Bob Cabot to work on the fire Department history and SRO Peter Emerson who had collected law enforcement history over time. Stop 79 Dade city police Department shows Marshal Bartow Daniel Sturkie who also served as Pasco Sheriff. Image courtesy of Madonna Jervis Wise. In addition, the team wanted to make the tour a learning tool. Judge Tepper suggested the team consult with Dan Mitchell of Smart Start so that the tour might be used by up-and-coming entrepreneurs. There were examples of leadership and perseverance and so much more. The team met with Mitchell and shared some of the examples of teamwork and the qualities of leadership seen in the history of this frontier county-seat town. Here are a few of the stories that the team shared and a glimpse at a few stops. Education is Incorporated into the Dade City Historical Walking Tour Stop 1: 1909 Pasco County Courthouse: At the foundation of the tour in stop one, you will hear about Henry Coleman and William Ferguson who utilized timing and opportunity to grow their businesses. They were not afraid to relocate and rebuild. They looked strategically at the location of their mercantile and they anticipated change. See how they influenced the placement of the Seaboard Coastline Depot to bring merchants downtown. Then you will see how they worked to influence the establishment of the county seat by offering a space for the courthouse. TIMING, LOCATION, and ASSESSING SITUATION Stop 8: Ford Garage: In 1914, M.C. Autry of Georgia rented the building on the corner of Pasco and Cherry Streets which was converted into an auto display shop. He expanded to operate Ford garages in Brooksville, Tarpon Springs, and Kissimmee. Examples of his innovative advertising which appeared in the weekly newspaper, the Dade City Banner, offer a glimpse into his PRESENTATION SKILLS. A later occupant of the garage space, Gail Greenfelder, and her husband, Glen, used INNOVATION to convert the garage into a 150-seat restaurant with two banquet rooms. Using her culinary training she conceptualized a gourmet restaurant and honed SERVICE EXTRAORDINAIRE Stop 10: Pasco Packing of Dade City was the world’s largest private-label frozen citrus concentrate firm for many decades. In this overview, look at the ADAPTABILITY as the citrus operation went from fresh to frozen concentrate which the Dade City packing plant largely perfected to canned and eventually even to dispensers in restaurants. Note they even used the byproducts for livestock feeds and fertilizer. See how they faced the adversity of the Great Depression to lead the field for over fifty years. Pasco Packing of Dade City was the world’s largest private-label frozen citrus concentrate firm for many decades. Stop 15: Bank of Pasco: PERSEVERANCE is the name of the game for the Bank of Pasco, the third ban chartered in the state in 1889. Surviving an attempted robbery in 1904, when safe blowers dynamited the large iron doors leading to the bank vault, it acquired the name of Old Reliable.” The Bank of Pasco was one of very few that weathered the Stock Market Crash of 1929. It closed for only ten days, and reopened with the unadulterated joy and relief of citizens. It overwhelmingly beat the odds by surviving the 1926 Real Estate Boom as well and then withstood the 1929 Stock Market Crash, as the only bank in Pasco County to survive! Stop 22: Dade City Hardware and Case Hardware on 7th Street in Dade City were competitors and supportive of each other for several decades largely due to the PROFESSIONALISM AND COMRADERY of Robert “Mel” Case and John Newsome. Dade City Hardware. Stop 45: The Dade City Coca-Cola Bottling Company was integral to Dade City for over fifty years. Today the space is occupied by Olga’s Bakery, L.G. Edward’s Insurance, and more. George Gilbert as manager of the coke bottling plant was involved with the schools and civic groups, offering tours and donations. His weekly Coke advertisements championed the causes of the day: patriotism, family commitments, and COMMUNITY. George even installed a lookout tower on top of the Coke building so volunteer corps could be on the lookout for stray aircraft in the early years of World War II as his CIVIC INVOLVEMENT helped to build his store. The tour is available now and can be viewed by phone, computer, or a walk. The team suggests chunking out a few locations at a time.  The official launch of the tour will be on November 9th at 6 p.m. at the Lockey Room of the Pioneer Florida Museum & Village. Respectfully, the tour is dedicated to Dennis and Nancy Alfonso and Judge Lynn Tepper. Historical Stops on the Dade City Walking Tour - Stop 1: 1909 Pasco County Courthouse - Stop 2: 1926 Band Stand/Gazebo - Stop 3: 1904 Sunnybrook Tobacco/ later George Massey Building - Stop 4: 1905 Osceola Hotel - Stop 5: 2016 City of Dade City Building - (site of 1925 George Dayton Building (Florida boom) structure - Stop 6: Hugh Embry Library (1963 bldg. with institution dating to 1904) - Stop 7: 1916 City Hall Building - Stop 8: 1916 Ford Garage now occupied by Kafe Kokopelli, Rolando’s Cigar Lounge & American Pizza Oven - Stop 9: 1961 chartered Pioneer Florida Museum & Village - Stop 10: 1936 Pasco Packing converted to Dade City Business Center with discussion of 1957 Evans Packing - Stop 11: 1944-1946 World War II POW - Camp at Naomi Jones Pyracantha Park - Stop 12: 1912 Atlantic Coastline Depot - (Cultural Museum) - Stop 13: 1980 East Pasco Judicial Center (Robert Sumner) - Stop 14: 1955 National Guard Armory - Stop 15: 1889 Bank of Pasco County - Stop 16: 1919 Bank of Dade City - Stop 17: 1935 Sinclair Garage - Stop 18:  3rd building of Coleman & Ferguson (now Lowman’s Law Firm) - Stop 19: Two Krazy Chicks Antiques and More - Stop 20: 1923 Highland Motors (BLOCK) - Stop 21: 1947 Pasco Motors (Zone Worx) - Stop 22: Dade City Hardware (Savoring Roots) with a discussion of Case Hardware - Stop 23: Hardy & Lingle’s Department Store (Del Carmen Mexican Store) - Stop 24: 1903 Mount Zion African Methodist Episcopal Church - Stop 25: 1893 Historic Pasco County Jail - Stop 26: 1927 Dade City Grammar School (Rodney B Cox Elementary) - Stop 27: 1912 Agnes Lamb Park (formerly Four Seasons) - Stop 28: 1912 Edwinola Hotel and Park - Stop 29: 1965: Sally Blackwood Studio - Stop 30: 1967 Price Park (Francis “Frank” Price and Mildred Butts Huckabay Price) - Stop 31: 1891 St. Mary’s Episcopal Church - Sop 32: Gude’s Kumquat Factory and Kumquat Festival - Stop 33: J.A. Peek & Son Feeds (Wozniak) - Stop 34: 1926 (brick) Coleman & Ferguson Department Store - Stop 35: 1905 Griffin Block (Treehouse Mercantile) - Stop 36: 1922 Frederick Cosner Apartments - Stop 37-38: Pasco Hardware & Supplies/Shofield Building, City Market Building, and Huckabay Building (Look for Top of the Town, Green Door, Two Ole Hens Too, etc.) - Stop 39: 1887 Seaboard Airline Depot - Stop 40: 1922 Greater Chamber of Commerce - Stop 41: The 2007 Roy & Martha Hardy Trail - Stop 42: 1920’s historic Sabal palm - Stop 43: The Spoke (Pasco Lumber, Palmer House, etc.) - Stop 44: 1948 Pasco Theatre (South State Bank) with a discussion of Ben Ali Theatre, Colonial Theatre, Crescent Theatre, The Queen, and Joy Lan Theater) - Stop 45: 1916 Coca-Cola Building (Olga’s Bakery, Arts Eclectic, Edward Insurance) Stop 46: The 1959 Superior Electronics (Candy, Comics & Collectibles) - Stop 47 1912 Sears & Roebuck House Kit from James Ambrose Peek homestead (now Lighthouse Books) - Stop 48: Howard Avenue original split and only remaining intact brick road - Stop 49: 1926 Hayes- Maters Garage (Farm House) - Stop 50: 1926 Dade City’s Woman’s Club - Stop 51: 1947 Dade City Garden Club - Stop 52 The 1966 Polly Touchton Park - Stop 53: Historic 5th Street (original entry into town) - Stop 54: 1925 Telephone Building (Matter of Taste) - Stop 55: 1953 Kiefer’s Pharmacy and Sporting - Stop 56: 1922 Friedman/Larkin Building - Stop 57: 1920’s Neal’s Sundries Building - Stop 58: 1908 Williams Department Store & Lunch on Limoges - Stop 59: 1916 Market/Barber Shop (now Book Shack) - Stop 60: 1906 Touchton Drug Store Building - Stop 61-62: 1921 Sarah Elizabeth “Essie” Coleman Building which houses Angel’s Tea Room and Lanky Lassie’s Shortbread - Stop 63: 1921 Dade City Bakery which is replaced by an exquisite outdoor courtyard - Stop 64-65: 1888 Treiber building housing Rustic Elegance and Dog Mania - Stop 66: 1956 Moore Mickens Building - Stop 67: 1926 Dade City Creamery which houses McClain & Afonso Law Firm - Stop 68: 1956 Dade City Post Office - Stop 69: 1886 St. Paul’s Missionary Baptist Church - Stop 70: Mayor Wm Glenn Lester Park - Stop 71:1913 Jack Bromley Shoe Repair - Stop 72: Otis E & Naomi Scott Jones Nursing Home - Stop 73: The 1945 Main Street Cleaners - Stop 74: Edwards Guest Home/ Sherman Milton Funeral Home - Stop 75: 1949 Harper Mickens Subdivision - Stop 76: 1915 Dade City Fire Department - Stop 77: 1908 Dade City Ice, Light & Power (TECO) - Stop 78: Bonita Flower Shop/Dixie Auto - Stop 79: 1889 Dade City Police Department - Stop 80: 1957 Cow Palace & Chitlin Circuit - Stop 81: 1898 South Florida Normal Institute - Stop 82: Johnny's Barbecue/ Steph’s Soul Food Read the full article

[burningexeter]

PITCH:

The Left Hand Of Carnage

What is it — a hard R action horror contemporary fantasy film that is a modern day Frankenstein meets The Crow.

PREMISE:

Set in Veracruz, this macabre and almost-steampunk tale follows a young man with a slight face deformity named Jorge who is tragically killed in a store robbery gone horribly wrong and later on finds himself resurrected as a large, imposing, horrific monstrosity that is the creation of the U.S. Government as part of a super soldier program to do their bidding.

But unfortunately for them, Jorge still retains all of his memories and is horrified at the monster they've turned him into, leading to him escaping and forced to hide out in the deepest, darkest and seediest parts of Veracruz where in facing his own moral ambiguity, becomes a violent vigilante cleaning the streets all the while seeking revenge on the people who made him this way.

Notes/Details/Trivia:

• The main character, Jorge Ramirez, starts off as a lanky, quiet, struggling but intelligent, well-read, highly organized guy in his late 20s who is slightly deformed on the left side of his face from a childhood accident where he was dropped on concrete as a baby. He lives with his mother, younger sister and pet dog at an apartment and where we are now with him at this point is that he's currently planning on proposing to his long-time girlfriend who is handicapped with one leg. It makes what happens to him all the more tragic and with them it's done in an almost mundane way where there's only an element of quirk to them that is completely subdued when it's clearly necessary.

• Other characters are Spaz, a cynical and sarcastic homeless man that Jorge befriends as a monster, Daniel Henrick, a U.S. general who is running the program and will do anything to stay on top, Rico Torres, a sleazy and deranged mortician wanting to live forever and experience life in his own hedonistic way and Lillian Marshall, a former U.S. reporter investigating the mysterious disappearance of her brother in Veracruz.

• When I say it will be a hard R, I really do mean it. The R rating will allow us to go to places the only way this story can ever actually work. The violence in this will be quite graphic in that it's brutal and gory but it all makes sense in the context of everything. Right down to the fact that the title is a direct reference to Jorge's now massive and monstrous left arm that is now his main indestructible weapon, throats are ripped open, heads are smashed apart, there's plenty of fun and enjoyable blood squibs to go around.

• There is however several lighter aspects and moments to help balance out the darker elements so they help the latter stand out more and hit harder. You need levity for contrast as well as contrast in general, regular Veracruz in the film is in that visually distinct Guillermo Del Toro-esque look that you'd see in movies of his like Cronos and The Devil's Backbone for example. Meanwhile, all of the stuff in the lower, crime ridden parts of Veracruz where Jorge is forced to hide out and later cleans up the streets of the filth that inhabits it are very grimy looking and feel like something more gritty out of something like either John Rambo or Blade II again for example.

• As for the creature designs, almost all of them especially Jorge are heavily inspired by or influenced by Bernie Wrightson's incredible and visually striking grotesque design of Frankenstein. That exact type of heavy, gruesome and intimidating size and psyche while at the same time having the ability to emote and show clear and genuine emotion through it especially with the clear and genuine sympathy you're supposed to have and actually feel for Jorge. Jorge is not a monster nor does he want to be a monster, it's just that he's been given a cruel fate that changes him and his life forever.

• The movie won't just be some dark R rated horror-fest, it will actually have a lot more heart to it than you think with its lead and his relationship with his loved ones even after he's been brought back to life from the dead and turned into something else entirely. That heart is what helps adds to this new twisted tale.

• One thing that will make it stand-out from any other Frankenstein or at least Frankenstein-related productions is that —

It won't have a happy ending but in a very unexpected and unconventional way that you usually see in horror anthologies.

[SPOILER ALERT]

There's a huge and genuine moment of victory where our main protagonist and the ones by his side actually win against the odds and come out on top with Jorge being given a genuine bittersweet end to his character....

However, then when all seems as well as can be and I don't know "the characters walk off into the sunset" or something like that, an extra thing happens immediately after when the coast is clear that goes either "Nope!" or "...Or Maybe Not!"

All in all with an effective and memorable final image that's just as striking to end it on with that. The evil the characters defeated is shown to still be alive and will return.

And yet that's not the half of it even....

[MAJOR SPOILERS HERE]

Once the striking final image happens revealing it's unfortunately not a happily ever after after all, it dissolves and turns into an animated campfire with a female voice then saying ".... and that's the end".

It pans up slowly to reveal none other than two more-than-familiar characters sitting together arm in arm by the campfire —

It's Mikasa Ackerman and Historia Reiss.

It's revealed right then and there that the entire film was a campfire horror story (or was it, damn) being told by Mikasa to Historia.

Without directly stating it, it's shown that this takes place approximately three years after the series finale to Attack On Titan - "The Final Chapters - Part 2" - and that both Mikasa and Historia are now a romantic couple.

Historia is rather shocked by the story as Mikasa then breaks seriousness and starts toying around with her.

After a while, the two decide to call it a night and head back home as Mikasa is about to tell Historia something or rather show something to her as well when she ultimately decides not to and jokingly says "You probably wouldn't believe me even if I told you.... as cliche as it is to say".

The two walk off, holding each other, as Mikasa throws something off behind her as they walk away.

It's an important object from the story or film, revealing that the story wasn't a story at all and that what we saw actually happened.

And as an added bonus but not only will their butts jiggle a little when they walk off together but Trina Nishimura and Bryn Apprill will reprise their roles as Mikasa and Historia from the FUNimation English Dub.

• Now as for who directs it or helms it — Guillermo Del Toro and maybe, just maybe with a screenplay by Frank Darabont. I can't think of anyone more ideally suited for this job more than Guillermo Del Toro and maybe this will give Frank Darabont the chance to do Frankenstein right after his script was butchered with Mary Shelley's Frankenstein (1994).

So what do you think?

[polysematic-death]

Welcoming admission.

A blinding light appeared as it opened its eyes. A peculiar figure with short blonde hair dressed in white who had wings extending from his back greeted it with a gentle smile. He extends his hand out towards it and as it takes his hand, its perspective rises. Below it was a floor made out of clouds, each step it took left a puff of them lingering in the air before dispersing.

The angel turned around and it followed right behind. As the two of them walked towards the gates that shined even brighter than the sun, he began to speak.

“Polysemantic deaths. Polysemous means having many meanings, but what is the meaning of death? You can be boring and say that it simply means that you or the subject of interest has died, naturally or unnaturally but think past that.”

He paused for a moment but began to speak again soon after.

“What happens after death? Where do you go? Do you live another life? Is reincarnation real? Would you ever find them again in another life? Would they recognize you? How does it feel to die?”

He turned around to face it but it could barely make out his face as the bright light from behind obscured it in a dark shadow. Hymnal music began to faintly play in the background as well.

“Regardless of what you think, I can assure you it is based on your beliefs. Some believe in heaven and some don't. Some say nothing happens after death and others say the contrary. It doesn't matter in the end as we will explore four different meanings of death alongside mortal subjects who will not notice us. Here, a list of who we will watch over in the following years and soon interview. Let this guide you through your own beliefs.”

He finished as he took its hand and dragged it through the now open gates to an unoccupied station. Picking up a paper, he let go and handed the paper to it. On the paper was a list of four different names written in all capitals.

‘CESAR TORRES; MARK HEATHCLIFF; JONAH MARSHALL; ADAM MURRAY’

After reading the paper, it looked up to the other angel. Its head tilted to the side and its hand pointed to him.

“Hm? Is it my name you want to know?” He asked the shorter brunet.

Cassiel nodded in response.

“My name is Gabriel, or Gabe for short.” Gabriel said while extending his hand out again, this time for a handshake.

It took his hand and watched as he firmly shaked its hand. Shyly looking up, it mumbled out a brief introduction. “Cassiel. Nice to meet you Gabriel.”

Gabriel’s eyes seemed to sparkle at the sound of its name, he opened his mouth to speak but was cut off as a loud incomprehensible echoed throughout the domain. Their hands let go of each other and fell to their respective owner’s sides and Gabriel’s beaming expression quickly twisted into a distressed one.

As he turned to the side, he said, “I should get going now. I’ll be back soon to continue and finish your admission!” He pointed to a delicately carved and detailed bench. “You can wait for me there! Like I said, I’ll be back in a minute!” He quickly finished with a smile of worry before dashing off, leaving a trail of quickly dispersing fog behind his footsteps. 

Cassiel could only contently sigh at how much of a mess Gabriel was before going to the bench he pointed to. As it waited for the other to come back, it looked over the paper it was handed multiple times. It knew what it was here for but come on, what kind of names are these? Heathcliff? Really?

A shadow was suddenly overcast onto the paper. Cassiel looked up to see a lanky and pale angel dressed in white but this time with long blonde hair that was duller than Gabriel’s. They held their hands behind their back while they read the contents of the paper Cassiel held.

Now noticing the other staring at him, he gives it a sharp toothy grin. The tone they spoke with was the complete opposite of welcoming, as he most likely intended it to be. “The name’s Lucifer, I’ll see you around soon.” Before Cassiel could say anything back, he spun on his heel and walked away with heavy fog covering his departure while it only stared in confusion.

But Cassiel shrugged it off as Gabriel soon came charging back towards it. Still catching his breath with his hands on his knees, he huffed out, “I.. had to rush back here.. Before anyone else.. Stopped me to talk. Sorry!” Plopping down besides Cassiel, he finally stopped huffing and turned to point at the paper in its hands.

“Okay so you already know these are the people you have to interview, yes?” he quickly said before giving Cassiel an expectant look. Cassiel quickly nodded back and he continued. “It doesn’t matter which order you finish them in and I don’t know if you have a deadline yet, I’ll have to get confirmation from Micheal or someone else- Anyways, all of them are usually at the housing across from here, though they might wander out in the morning so it’d be easier holding interviews at night. Do you have any questions?”

It stared at Gabriel for a moment, debating whether it should tell him about the other angel from earlier but it eventually shook its head. In response, Gabriel clapped his hands together and exclaimed, “Well, that about wraps it up then! Cya later, Cassy!”

Cassiel cringed at the nickname but still waved back at Gabriel as he walked off once again. Working here would surely be entertaining as long as Gabriel was around. It couldn’t even believe it was the same person it met in front of the gates..