#so the tapes really made me just yearn for the like. two times tim was there in s1.

[killmebythebeach]

So was anyone gonna tell me that s5 is so unbelievably sad or was I supposed to find that out myself.

[ashironie]

Mag protocol ep 2 spoilers

AHHAHAHAHAHAH FUCKING MARTIN FUCKING JON I WONDER WHO THE THIRD VOICE IS IS IT MELANIE SHES I THINK THE ONLY OTHER PERSON WHO HAS READ OUT A STATEMENT ALSO THE FACT THEY NAMED THEM NORRIS AND CHESTER IS SENDING ME

THEN OH MY FUCK THEN ALICE THE GODDESS THE QUEEN I LOVE HER SO MUCH

GWEN IS GIVING S1JON MIXED WITH POST-JOB MELANIE MIXED WITH TIM’S SASHA AND I LOVE MELANIE SO SO SO MUCH (that who I see her most as)

Sam’s pretty chill ig, second favorite character, after Gwen

FUCK LENA IF GWEN HATES LENA I HATE LENA

Wait wait I interpreted Augustus as a fem name (the “he and Chester” comment must fucked with me a bit) but the more I realize the more that sounds like a male name…

ELIAS DUCHARD????

Also I had to read along with the transcript bc I couldn’t discern anyone’s voices.

Anyway

TEDDY LOVE EM SM HES SO EARLY TIM/SASHA CODED

COLIN IS SO POST JON STALKING TIM CODED I KINDA LOVE HIM KINDA HATE HIM. WHEN HE ACTS MORE LIKE TIM I HATE HIM BUT YK MAYBE THATS A MORE CONTROVERSIAL OPINION

I went fucking CRAZY for the “NORRIS’S STILTED TEXT-TO-SPEECH RHYTHM IS MORPHING INTO SOMETHING MORE HUMAN” like AHHHHH THATS MY MARTIN

Then “NORRIS NOW SOUNDS COMPLETELY LIKE A PERSON NARRATING A STORY, NOT COMPUTER-LIKE AT ALL”

Tbh I didn’t read that or the “HIS VOICE RESEMBLES THAT OF MARTIN BLACKWOOD FROM THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES” bc I decided to just soak in the statement.

ALSO HIS STATEMENT FEELS LIKE MARTIN SO SO MUCH. The yearning in there the not being able to handle whether her love is dead. (I read Harriet and Arthur’s relationship as romantic but I don’t think it says anything like that specifically) (She says “And that voice I have loved for twenty years answered:” so probably safe to say yes)

Then Jon’s statement is about the Magnus institute, about someone feeling watched with eyes all over them, about The Eye. This made Sam want to look into the Magnus institute more, making him more like S1 Jon, especially with the “blast from the past” comment.

Martin’s statement is more poetic, less focused on a single entity (The Lonely mixed with The Stranger? Lonely is obviously up Martins alley but The Stranger took two of his friends and seems like a bit of how he saw Jon, someone he knew but didn’t really, someone who was different, for better, or in this case, worse)

Jon’s case is pretty obvious. The Eye. You might be able to say other entities if you REALLY reach but no one can deny that’s an Eye statement. He also is saying it probably for Sam, knows he’s the type to go snooping for that stuff. I mean two voiced statements (what I’m assuming are true statements) on Sam’s first day? That can’t be a coincidence.

Also a long time ago I came up with an idea for an AU where in Somewhere Else Martin turns into an orange cat and Jon turns into a haunted tape recorder, and they go back in time to S1 (since I’m nothing if not basic). This is REALLY reminding me of that, except they are both haunted tape recorders. Tbh might (probably will) post about the AU since im probably not gonna make it but it is a really cool idea (to me at least)

[creepycatboyz]

"Scary Monsters" Marble Hornets Tim/Brian Fanfiction

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33361528/chapters/83235640

Chapter 2: Reunited at once

Ever since he was free from the grasp of the Operator, he could properly breathe out and not having the feeling of being watched. He yearned for this feeling for years. Medication helped, but he could never shrug off the slight feeling of being watched. He absolutely hated it, as he loved to keep his privacy. He had gotten sick and tired of Jay coming back to dig through the stuff of Marble Hornets, he just wanted to forget that, especially after his best friend has gone missing after Alex and him went to film a scene.

After everything had progressively gotten worse, the lack of medication he had to fend off the Operator with, he had enough. Someone in a beige-yellow hoodie, with a badly sewed on frowny face, has been stealing his medication, and that pissed him off so bad. Tim needs them, not this random person. Eventually he confronted the person, ran after them and surely accidently killed them. He's still not over this, he goddamn killed someone! Was it technically self-defense? Probably not. At least he could've called an ambulance, but he just left with the stolen pills they left in their pocket.

It's been a month, since he packed up the little things he had and left as far as he could. A relative of his offered him a relatively big cabin, where he can stay so he can settle down and calmly search for a job. He told this member the least amount of information, as he didn't want to freak them out or call him crazy.

Smoking a cigarette, this habit having never left his mind, he calmy gazed at the surrounding trees of his cabin. He's not completely engulfed in the woods, but it would be slightly hard to find the way if you don't know it. Which Tim appreciates, as he doesn't really want to talk to people, or be disturbed while he's doing his own thing. He likes his privacy, especially after he had no feeling of being watched. Usually he would be staying as far as possible from forests, as it always reminds him of the operator, but now he grew quite fond of the nature around him. He loves to watch birds pick berries from the nearby berry bushes, sometimes other small animals run around in the evening trying to find something to eat. At times he leaves out some food, a little bit further away from his cabin so they won't come back, to feed the animals around here. If he can't currently take care of a dog, he can at least fed the wild animals around here. He still kept his old phone number, as first off, he only gave it to Brian and Jessica, but never the others. He rarely talked to them outside of filming anyways, and honestly, he doesn't want them to contact him. He's done with the Operator, done with these scary monsters that should stay childhood fears.

The calm moments that were just now, were interrupted by a loud ring from his quite old phone. It looks a bit broken, but it still does his job! He lazily threw the cigarette he was smoking on the floor and crushed it with his shoe. Curiously he walked over to his phone and answered the call.

"Hello?", his voice a bit hoarse, due to smoking just a moment ago. "This is Dove's care hospital, am I speaking to Timothy Wright?", a female voice from the other end came. He grimaced at hearing his first name but soon thought to himself: 'A hospital? Why would a hospital call me from all the other possbilities?' "Yeah, this is Tim, is there something wrong?", he asked, confused on why he was even called in the first place. "A certain Brian Thomas had you on his contacts, in case something happened to him. His family was also on the list, but we couldn't reach them." Hearing his best friends' name his heart dropped, he couldn't even believe it. His lips let out a small whimper before he tried to compose himself. "I- Uh.. I will get there. It'll take some hours 'til I get there though. Around 5 hours", as he was saying that he already began to pack up some money, pills, snacks and spare clothes. The receptionist noted that down and told him Brian is in a stable situation, but has no memory on what had happened. As soon as he heard which room he was in he said goodbye and immediately hung up. He rushed to lock his door leaving immediately.

Right as he got in his car he couldn't even properly focus on the road, due to him being so overwhelmed with emotions. He for real thought his friend was gone! He hasn't heard from him for ages and he only noticed it was off ever since he moved out after Jay tried to dig through the old recordings. He secretely saved the old tapes, Jay posted, of him and Brian, those are the only recent memories he even had of him. Childhood memories of course stayed, but with those memories he also has to look back to the Operator, who tormented him since he was little. While he was driving, he was trying so hard not to cry, mostly due to happiness, he missed him so much. He wished he noticed sooner, but he was completely trying to forget everything, anything to get away from the monster. The amount of happiness overshadowed the dread he was feeling driving closer to Tuscaloosa, his hometown, where all the trouble happened.

Arriving in Tuscaloosa gave him this familiar feeling of being watched. If the Operator felt any joy, he would be feeling it right now, seeing his victim return once again. He won't give him the satisfaction, as he swallowed the pills he had taken with him. The closer he drove to the hospital, the gaze of the Operator started to fade away and he let out a sigh of relief. He wants to get Brian out of this hellhole, where both of them can be safe, from the monster and Alex. He didn't mind Alex if he's honest, he seemed pretty neat, but after the filming of Marble Hornets, he just started acting weird. The Operator can sure do a lot of damage to people, Tim himself is a example for that, but he's slowly getting better. He hopes Alex can also get the help, but he doubts it, as Alex went as far as to attempt murder.

He parked near the hospital and as soon as he stepped out of the car, he felt nervous. What should he even say to Brian? Oh hi, I didn't realize you were missing, because my brain was in constant fear due to some tall thin monster with no face? Yeah, that sure will be believable. He shook his head and made his way towards the hospital. As he entered he went to the reception and told them he's visiting Brian Thomas as he was on his contacts if something ever happened to him. Tim already knew which room he was in as he kept repeating it on the way there in his head, but he wanted to make sure and let the receptionist know that he arrived.

Room 52. He anxiously glanced in the direction of the hall where the numbers from 50 til 60 were. He composed himself and made his way to number 52. He can do this, it's just his best friend, well he hopes they still are. Oh god, what if they aren't anymore? He still cares about him so much. As he stood in front of the door, it took him some moments to gain the courage to knock twice.

A faint 'yeah' could be heard from inside the room and he immediately started to panic. He tried to shake off the feeling, which took a bit longer than he wanted. After having his usual calm expression, he opened the door and walked in, closing the door behind him quietly. What he saw beforehim, was a Brian bandaged up everywhere where he could see him and a cast on his left arm. Confused on how he even got hurt that badly, he was speechless. His friend had a tired expression, but still the warm smile he always had. "Hey Tim, how's it goin'?", Brian spoke, his voice clear, yet a bit quiet and hoarse.

Tim walked closer to him and took a seat on the chair on Brian's right side. "Quite good actually unlike you", he teased and glanced at his bandaged up body and arm. The light haired male rolled his eyes, but still had a grin on his face. "Yeah, no clue what happened. One day I was filming with Alex for Marble Hornets, which is still a stupid name, and ta-da next thing I know I woke up in a hospital. Amnesia I guess?", he chuckled, resting his head on the hospital pillow. "Probably the meds, or you hit your head bad", the darker haired man suggested. Brian shrugged with his right shoulder, as he couldn't with his other.

"I was actually in a coma for around a month, just woke up 2 days ago, I was barely awake though. They tried to call my family, but that didn't work, so today they called you", he explained and he sounded happy about the fact that they called Tim. "I'm glad you came" The smile his best friend gave him, made his heart simply melt, he had a slight tooth gap, which he always thought was pretty adorable. "I missed you dude, I had no clue that something had happened, I wish I knew sooner", that made Tim frown, as he wished he could've been there for his friend, but he just moved away, leaving everything behind, even his best friend.

Brian chuckled and shook his head. "It's alright, you showing up is enough for me" That made Tim smile, and he leaned back into the chair. For a few moments there was an awkward silence between the two, just being in eachother's presence was enough for both of them. The thought of the Operator crept up in the dark haired man and he had to break the silence. "So, when are they going to release you?", he asked, looking at his friend. Brian thought for a moment and scratched his chin, which had a unkept beard. "Uh, maybe two weeks? At most, I would have to do check-ups at the doc though", with that he just shrugged with his one shoulder.

Okay Tim, now you have to ask him if he wants to live with you, that doesn't sound weird, but how will he explain the reason why? Brian doesn't believe in this Operator nonsense, he hasn't been affected by it, at least he couldn't tell.

"I- This is gonna sound weird and it will probably make no sense to you, but do you want to move together with me?", the best way for Tim to ask Brian is just talking to him directly. Brian stared at him for a moment and furrowed his brows, but then grinned. "I mean, it would be refreshing to finally live outside Tuscaloosa, so I wouldn't mind, I'd have to get my old stuff though" He stopped and his eyes widen, he immediately tried to sit right up, making him only groan in pain. Even that didn't stop his panicked talking. "Oh god, I hope they didn't kick me out! I haven't paid rent, in like what? 2 months!"

Oh shoot, Brian has been missing for more than 2 months, at least 6 months? Hell, he himself can't even remember. Trying to calm him down he placed his hand on his healthy shoulder rubbing it gently "Slow down, tiger, how about I check your place out and discuss it with your landlord?" The light brown haired man took calm breaths and nodded. "I should probably call them too, seems more personal" Tim thought for a moment if this was a good idea, probably? Then they would get the amount of months he had been missing... Brian would be hella confused though. "My phone's over there", while he said that he pointed towards a table with his belongings they found him with.

Tim nodded, standing up and walking towards the phone only to realize it has been completely thrashed, as if it fallen out of his pocket as he tripped or something. He inspected the phone and awkwardly turned to Brian, who was watching him in anticipation. "Your phone is completely thrashed man", that's the only thing he could say, holding up the phone that doesn't even turn on, with a completely shattered screen. Brian's face immediately became a frown. "Uhh, well. Shit, I also don't know her phone number. My brain is a complete mess..." Tim smiled and walked over to him ruffling his already messy hair, which made the other man pount slightly. "I'll just drive by there and tell the situation, m'kay? And what if I bring you some good lunch after I am done, so you can finally eat some proper food?" At the mention of food, Brian immediately got excited. "I've only been awake for a few days, but these meals are a real pain. You're the best, dude", he grinned widely.

With that, Tim made his way towards Brian's old apartment, trying to find his landlady. Brian mentioned her name being Margaret something and she was really sweet. He walked around the complex and saw her name on one of the name cards on where to ring. What he didn't expect is for an old lady to open the door, huh, the worst she could do to Brian is pinch his cheeks to death he guessed. He always hated his cheeks getting pinched when they visited his grandparents, he would get very annoyed and his cheeks would be red. "Hello, are you Margaret, the landlady?", he asked, looking at her. She nodded and smiled. "Ah, yes, I am the owner of this apartment complex. Is there something you need?" Her smile was warm and welcoming, she looked like a kind soul. He cleared his throat and nodded. "Yeah, it's about a friend of mine, he rented an apartment here? Brian Thomas, tall, lanky, brown blondish hair?" he asked. At the mention of his name and then the further description her eyebrows raised. "Mr Thomas... I haven't seen him quite a while. He also hasn't been paying rent for the last... eight months or so? Is he alright?" He expected her to be angy, but he was only met with a look of concern.

Tim scratched the back of his neck. "Well, he was in a coma for a month or so and I came to visit him today, because family couldn't. I have no clue what happened to him, but he's very sorry for not being able to pay rent" The old lady scoffed and shook her head. "Tell that boy he shouldn't worry. His furniture is still in his apartment and he can still live here, but with rent. He doesn't have to pay it back, but he should properly take care of himself!" he nodded, paying close attention to every word she's saying. "I'll take care of him, as me and him will move together out of state..." As soon as those lips left his mouth, she started to talk. "Do you want me to call a move truck? My son has one, and he would be glad to help"

The dark haired man just blinked for a few moments and nodded. "Uh, sure? How much would that be, I have some spare money", he chuckled slightly. "Oh, you could fetch me some groceries from the store that is all" Well, he really struck gold with this lady, she's so nice even though, Brian hasn't paid rent in a long time. Surely they had a really good friendship, if she's so worried about him. Tim nodded and asked for the shopping list, which he got. She even wanted to give him the money for the groceries, but he avoided that, persisting that he will pay that out of his own pocket as it isn't too much. He thanked her and told her he will be back soon enough and left to get the groceries and some good food for Brian and him, as he hasn't eaten anything since he came to Tuscaloosa.

Back at the hospital, after delivering the groceries to the old lady, he handed over Brian a turkey sandwich with a sunkist soda. "You still remember my favorite sandwich and drink?", his eyes shined as he unpacked the sandwich with his one hand, immediately munching on it. He opened the can for him, which gained him a grin from his best friend. He also sat down on the chair on his right side, eating his own sandwich, which had tuna. How fast Brian was able to eat, still baffled Tim, he devoured the sandwich in less than one minute. "That was good", was the only thing Brian said, sipping on his sunkist. For the rest of the afternoon, they talked about various things, but mostly enjoyed eachothers presence. After it started to become slightly dark, Tim said goodbye, going to arrange the moving truck and all the other stuff, so everything is ready, when he's released from the hospital

[my-emotional-self]

New Beginnings Part 6

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 7,136

Warnings: Swearing, Mild Smut (mutual masturbation),Scott is Here!,  Anxiety, Scary themes (I don’t want to spoil anything here!!!)

Ratings: R

Summary: After your grandparents pass away, you find out they leave everything to you, including a large sum of money.  Deciding to take the advice of your grandparents, you live your life to the fullest; which means moving to Boston and bumping into Chris Evans.

Part 5  Part 7

 Over the next two weeks, things were finally starting to come around for your new business.  Mary, your business partner, went over everything that needed to be done, and certain people that needed to be hired.  

The first thing you did was come up with a name for your new bookstore and coffee shop.  You knew you wanted a catchy, yet funny name for your new business.  In the end, you came up with Bean There, Read That.  After coming up with the name, you made sure to trademark the name so nobody else could take it.  

Once that was finished, you had to get a state registration to open the business.  Luckily, all that took was a quick trip to the courthouse and all was said and done.  

You got in contact with everyone Mary recommended.  She said you needed to hire a business lawyer, an accountant, and someone for Human Resource.  

It only took two days, but you hired everyone you needed to start running your business.  

Three weeks since Chris had been gone was when things finally started to fall into place with Bean There, Read That.  You met with a construction company that specialized in renovating small business. As you walked around your space with Tim, the owner of the construction company, you told him your ideas as he jotted everything down.

As your lawyer looked over the contract Tim had drafted up, your lawyer, Cooper, gave you the go ahead to sign it.  As long as everything would be done on time and there were no distractions or any problems, they would be done with renovations in three weeks; just around the time that Chris would be back home from filming.  

You were really starting to miss him.  Each time you talked to him on the phone, or over Skype, your heart yearned for him; wanting him to be close to you, to hold you and kiss you.  But even though he was thousands of miles away, he was still giving you advice and praises for doing what you dreamed of.  It made your heart leap with joy each time he told you how proud he was of you.  

After the first week of Chris being gone, you each started sending pictures to each other throughout the day, and before long, your phone held dozens of pictures of Chris.  Each night, you would go through your phone and look at each picture, your smile becoming bigger and bigger with each passing picture.

~~~

The next morning, you arrived at your shop to let the construction crew in.  On the main floor of the building were four offices.  You decided to make the biggest office the break room for employees.  The smallest of the three left was for you, Human Resources, and your accountant. You let Greg, your accountant, and Holly who was Human Resources do with their offices as they pleased.  Luckily, there were already desks in each of the rooms.

As the construction crew got to work, you started to set up your office.  Pictures of your grandparents and parents were arranged gracefully on your desk: your laptop sitting right in the middle.  

The day went smoothly as you found yourself doing some more online shopping, but this time, for your business.  You found bookshelves, coffee tables, chairs, lounges and so much more.  

Tim popped his head into your office alerting you that there was a delivery for you.  Confused, you got up and walked out to the main area. What could possibly be here for you now? You hadn’t ordered anything yet.  

“Delivery for Y/F/N Y/L/N?” the delivery guy said as you came into view.  

He looked familiar to you but you had so much on your mind the past few weeks that you didn’t think too much into it.  As you walked up to his very tall frame, he handed you a clipboard to sign your name; his shaggy blonde hair falling over his face.  

“I’ll go grab your stuff” he said before walking out.  The minute he left, you felt something like a mild punch in your stomach; something that didn’t seem quite right.  It was that gut feeling you would sometimes get as a child before something bad happened. Most of the time, it wasn’t serious; it was maybe a skinned knee, or even a thunderstorm.  But you always trusted your gut instinct.  

The delivery guy came back with a large package.  “Be careful, it’s kind of heavy” he said as he handed it over to you.  Damn, it was kind of heavy as you struggled to hold it in your arms.  

“Thank you” you stated, giving him a weary smile.  The delivery guy turned and walked away as you sauntered back to your office, laying the package down at your desk.  

You noticed your phone light blinking and turned it on, a text message from Chris appearing on your screen.

My Romantic Dork: I woke up hard as a rock today.  I dreamt of you last night, and you did some pretty amazing things with your mouth…..not gonna lie.

Reading his message, you broke out in a smile, but also your face heated up.  It seemed as if the distance between you two made you become bolder while talking to him.  You would sometimes dirty talk with him on the phone late at night, getting both of you hot and bothered.  It hadn’t gone as far as phone sex, but you were seriously starting to think about doing something like that.  You crossed your legs, needing to put some pressure on your womanhood as thoughts of Chris touching you invaded your mind.  

Y/N: Well I can’t help what or who you dream about now can I :p

Almost instantly, he replied to your text.

My Romantic Dork: Doesn’t matter sweetheart.  I wake up hard and lonely.  I can’t wait to be back home with you

Clenching your thighs even more tight, you imagined Chris’ rock hard cock straining against his pants. While you weren’t in too much of a rush to have sex with him, you still wanted to have fun, and damnit, after this conversation, you needed a release.  

Opening your eyes, you looked at the package on your desk; completely forgetting about it with your naughty thoughts of Chris.  

Grabbing a letter opener, you cut into the taped package.  Your ass wiggled back and forth as you opened the box; you were just as giddy as a kid opening presents on Christmas day.

Moving the shiny silver paper to the side, you gasped at what you saw.  With shaky hands, you reached in and very delicately picked up the book.  It was a first edition of “Gone With the Wind”.  Looking back down at the package, tears started to brim your eyes as you noticed there were more books, all first edition.  “Pride and Prejudice”, “Jane Eyre”, “Sense and Sensibility” and “Emma” were all the rest of the books in the package.  

At the very bottom and underneath all the books was a piece of paper.  Gently, you sat down the books onto your desk and grabbed the letter.  

Sweetheart,

I am so proud of you.  With all the tragedy and sadness you’ve had in your life, you overcame that and started a new beginning; not only with me, but with your new store. The minute you told me you were opening your own book store; I knew I had to find some first editions that you could display with pride.  I hope I picked out some good ones for you.  By the time this reaches you, our time to see each other will be cut in half. Until we see each other again.  

Chris

By now you were a blubbering mess as you sat in your chair in your office.  Your hands covered your face as you cried, quite literally, like a baby.  Chris had just bought you five first edition books; not only first edition, but very romantic first edition books.  The books you read as a teenager growing up, some of your absolute favorites.

The construction crew continued to hammer their way out in the main area while your sobs subsided into mere hiccups.  Taking your phone into your hand, you found Chris’ contact and hit “call”.

The phone rang a few times before he picked up and as you heard his voice, you started crying again.

“Y/N, sweetheart what’s wrong?” Chris asked, his tone very concerned.

“I-how-you” was all you managed before succumbing to your tears again.  

“Breathe Y/N, just breathe for me alright” you heard Chris speak softly through the speaker of your phone.

Taking his advice, you took inhaled deep breaths before letting them out; counting to five each time. It seemed to work relatively fast and before long, your breathing returned to normal and your sobbing ended.

“Good sweetheart.  Now, mind telling me why you were crying so much?” Chris inquired on the other end of the line.

“A package was just delivered to the shop” you spoke softly.

“Hhhhmmmm, and what was in the package?” Chris requested with a mischievous tone to his voice.

You let out a chuckled sigh, “You damn well know what was in the package Chris.  I can’t believe you bought these.  I-I don’t even know what to say.  They’re amazing.  You’re amazing.”

A soft laughter came through the speaker; a smile lighting up your face.  

“You deserve them sweetheart.  I was thinking you could maybe get a nice glass display case and show them off in the bookstore.  I just knew I had to get you something.  I’m so proud of you Y/N.”

You couldn’t spontaneously combust just from pure happiness and joy could you?  It really felt like that was what your body wanted to do as your heart skipped a beat at his words.

As your conversation with Chris continued for a few more minutes, an idea came to mind; more like a reward for him and his amazing gift to you.  

“Will you have a date with me tonight?” you asked.

“A date?  How do you propose we do that?” Chris questioned.

“Tonight, on Skype. Let’s watch a movie, or eat dinner together.”

In your mind, you had something else planned and it made your clit throb in anticipation, making you squeeze your thighs together tightly.

“Is 10pm your time alright? Or is that too late?”

A smile lit up your face as your plan started forming.  “10pm sounds perfect.  Bye Chris.”

“Bye sweetheart.”

The rest of the day dragged on and you finally closed up the shop at 8pm after the construction crew, Holly and Greg left.  

Walking up to your front door, you noticed a single flower lying on your Welcome mat.  Thinking it must have been blown by the wind, you shrugged as you unlocked your front door.  

Racing up the stairs, you took a fast shower and instead of putting on your comfies, you put on your fluffy robe instead; throwing your hair up into a messy bun.

You sat cross legged on your bed; your laptop opened in front of you waiting for Chris to call via Skype, and a bottle and glass of wine on your nightstand along with a book. Pouring a glass of wine, you opened your book when you realized you had a little bit of time before Chris would be calling.

A half hour later, and almost the entire bottle of wine gone, Chris’ call via Skype came through and you answered.  

“Hello handsome” you said with as much seduction as you could.  

“Faahhkk, hello sweetheart. You are looking even more beautiful than ever” he stated, his Boston accent showing through, making you wet almost instantly.  You never realized just how hot and sexy an accent could be, until Chris’ started to come through more and more.

A blush crept up and onto your face; his accent and gaze lighting your body on fire, sending tingles straight to your core.

“So, what movie did you have planned to watch?” Chris inquired.  

A giggle escaped your mouth, as he had no idea what you were planning on doing.  The bottle of wine giving you the liquid courage you would need seeing as you’d never done this type of thing before.  

Slowly, you unfolded your legs and spread them on either side of the laptop; your robe still covering up your lady bits.  

Biting your lip, you gave him a wink.  “What if I told you that’s not really what I had in mind?” you questioned as you moved part of your robe up higher, exposing more of your leg.  

Chris gulped and you could physically see his Adams apple bob in his throat.  “Wha”, he stopped to clear his throat, “What did you have in mind?”

You could tell that Chris was already in his bed in the hotel room; his laptop sitting on his legs as his back was leaned against the pillows and headboard.  

“Have I ever told you how turned on I get when your accent shows through in your voice?” you asked as you raised the robe higher up on your other leg.  

Chris let out a breath he was holding as he shook his head at you; his eyes glued to the screen where you were.  

“Well, it does.  What if I told you I wasn’t wearing anything underneath this robe?” you probed again as you bit your lower lip and tilted your head to the side.  

“Fahk” Chris said in a breathy tone as he repositioned himself on the bed.  

Your placed your right hand on your leg and slowly slid it up your inner thigh; your head thrown back before slowly tilting it forward again to face him on the screen.  “I wish you were here with me Chris.  I wish this was your hand” you lusted out as your hand trailed higher.  

“Jesus.  Fahk baby I wish I was there with you right now.”

Using your other hand, you untied your robe and let it fall off to the sides.  You were full exposed to Chris as your legs were still spread right in front of the camera for him to see.  

Chris must have knocked his laptop off of him because he suddenly wasn’t there on the screen. “Shit” you heard him cuss as he came into view again.  

A soft chuckle escaped your lips when you saw how flustered Chris looked.  “If you were here, what would you do to me right now?” you seductively purred.

His mouth was agape and you knew exactly what he was staring at as your hands gently skimmed the softness of your inside thigh; so close to where you needed to be touched.  

“First, I would play around with those perky nipples of yours” he husked out causing you to bite your lower lip.

You took your left hand and cupped your left breast; your fingers tweaking your nipple as you moaned out in pleasure; imagining it was Chris doing this to you.

“Mmmmm it feels so good Chris” you purred.

Your head rolled back and your eyes shut as you continued to twist and pull on your hardened nipple. When you opened your eyes again, you noticed Chris readjusted himself on the bed.  This time, his laptop was on the bed and his boxers were lowered to his knees; his erect dick in his hands.  Seeing him like that only made you more wet and your clit throb harder.

“What else Chris? Tell me what you want me to do” you whispered out.  The sensations you were feeling all over your body was astounding and you couldn’t imagine how much better it would feel if it were Chris doing this to you.  You craved more of the little taste he gave you before he left for filming.  

“Rub your clit sweetheart” he groaned out.  You did as he asked and you let out a loud moan as your fingers came in contact with your aching clit.  

“Fuck Chris” you moaned out as your hips bucked up to meet your fingers.  You kept rubbing in circles and adding pressure when needed as your eyes locked on the screen with Chris’.  His hand rubbed up and down his large cock as his breathing became ragged.

“Slip a finger into that pretty pussy of yours.”

You didn’t need to be asked twice and you did just that.  Naturally your fingers didn’t feel as good as when Chris’ fingers were inside you but it would have to do.  At this point, you were so turned on you knew your orgasm would be reached rather quickly; especially with his dirty talk.  

“Yeah baby, just like that. Fahk you look so sexy right now” he rasped out as your breathing became heavy.  

You inserted another finger into your wet pussy as you spread your legs further and bending them at the knee, making it easier to hit your sweet spot.  As you found it was ease, your panting quickly turned into moans. “I’m so close Chris” you keened as you felt your walls starting to tighten around your fingers.

“Me too baby.  Cum with me” he groaned out and all you could do was nod your head as you tried to hold on as long as possible.

“Now Y/N” Chris moaned and you came on demand at his words.  You cried out in pleasure as your walls clamped around your fingers; your chest heaving up and down as you could hear Chris’ moans from the speaker.

As you both came down from your high, you brought your fingers to your mouth and sucked them clean; Chris’ eyes going wide at your actions.  

“That was so fahking sexy baby.  You’re killin me here” he said with a smile on his face.

You pulled your robe over yourself as you snuggled into your bed and under the covers; Chris doing the same.

“Will you stay with me like this tonight?  At least until I fall asleep?” you asked as you stared longingly into his eyes.

“Of course sweetheart.”

The two of you talked about your days and before you knew it, you had fallen asleep from exhaustion; Chris’ face the last thing you saw before closing your eyes.  

~~~

Another two weeks flew by in haste, your new business keeping you very busy which was what you wanted to happen with Chris being gone.  The renovations were coming along smoothly without any problems which only made things that much better for you.  

You and Holly had interviewed dozens of people over the last week and you finally hired everyone you needed to.  In the end, you hired two full time employees and five part time employees for the bookstore, and three full time employees and seven part time employees for the coffee shop.  Each person you hired for the coffee shop already had experience so there was no need for training there.  As for the employees that would help in the bookstore, well, that was your area of expertise so you could train them if needed.  

The men on the construction crew were very nice and helpful and even decided to help you move in all the new furnishings you had bought.  

It was only one week away before Chris came home and you got that strange feeling in your gut again one night as you got ready for bed; those weird flashes appearing in the night sky. Trying to be brave, you walked to your window where the curtain was open and peered out, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.  Yet you couldn’t ignore the feeling that something seemed wrong.  

The next morning you called Lisa and explained your gut feeling and she suggested that you have Dodger here with you, at least during the night as she insisted it would make you feel better.  You couldn’t say no to that offer and planned to have Dodger at your house overnight, and in the mornings when you went to work, you would drop him back off at Lisa’s place.

Chris didn’t mind the idea at all, but he was still concerned for how you felt.  At his insistence, you let him call the same security company that he used for his mom’s house and they would be coming to install a state of the art security system in your home that weekend.  

“Come on Dodger, lets get you back to Grandma’s” you said in a high pitched voice, Dodger wagging his tail as he walked behind you.

It was Friday morning and you were in such a chipper mood.  The security company would be installing the system tomorrow, and Chris would be home on Monday.  Chris said he was coming straight here to see you when he got home, but you persisted that he go home to see his mother and siblings first.  Of course he whined about it, but you wouldn’t back down. You told him he didn’t need to stay for hours; he just had to drop in and see them first before coming over here. Naturally, he agreed with you and you internally praised yourself for being right about it.

After dropping Dodger off at Lisa’s you made your way to your shop, the construction crew already under way for the day.  

“Hey Holly, is everything going good so far?” you asked as you peaked your head through Holly’s door.

She smiled at you as she nodded her head.  “Everything seems to be running smoothly.  I have all the employees lined up and ready to go with their paychecks and direct deposit.  Uniforms and name tags are on order and will be here next week.”

“You are amazing!” you said gleefully before heading back to your own office.  

Mary, your business partner had practically saved your life.  You knew nothing about how to start up and run a company but she practically did all the work and told you the best of the best to hire.  With everyone helping you, things were running perfectly and you couldn’t wait to open.  

A knock on your door startled you as you moved your head up to see who they were.  You didn’t know him by name, but you knew him.  It was the delivery guy that had been delivering your packages and flowers.  While you felt a bit uneasy around him, you still smiled as you stood up.

“Hi, how can I help you?”

“Umm.  I umm, saw the sign last week out front that said you were hiring” he quietly stuttered out; his shaggy blonde hair practically hiding his face.

“I’m sorry, but all the positions have been filled already.  If you leave an application with Holly next door, we can keep it on file for the future” you stated as positively as you could.  

He muttered something under his breath that you couldn’t hear before he turned around and walked out.

Sitting back down on your chair, you let out a shaky breath.  Something just didn’t sit right with you when that guy was around.  You made sure to jot down on your to do list to talk to the security company tomorrow and see if they could install a security system for your new shop sometime soon.  

Your phone lit up and you opened it to see a text from Lisa.

Lisa: I have to take Dodger to the vet for a checkup tonight. Is it alright if I just drop him off at your place later tonight?

You felt a bit unsettled having go to back to your house tonight without Dodger, but you decided to just stay as long as possible at the shop.  

Y/N: That works perfectly fine with me

You drowned yourself in work for the rest of the day; Chris texting you silly pictures and sweet words, making your heart bound in your chest and always lighting up your face with a smile.  Three more days and he would be back home.  Three more days and you could wrap your arms around his toned body.  Three more days until you could feel his lips on yours.  Distance does really make the heart grow fonder.  

He would be home for the holidays, but then he would be right back to work again.  The thought made you sad, but you knew the two of you would be able to work through it.  Now that you had your little shop, it kept you busy and your mind off things. You could also easily go and visit him on set, you were sure he wouldn’t mind that.  

It was dark out by the time you locked up your shop and headed home.  There were a few people scattered along the sidewalks of the small shopping area, but that didn’t stop you from feeling uneasy again.  As you turned around, you saw another flash of light in the distance and it chilled you to the bone.  Glancing around the street, nothing looked out of the ordinary so you quickly jogged to your car before slamming the door shut and locking the doors.  

Your heart hammered in your chest as you drove home, hoping that having a security system set up this weekend would make you feel more at ease.  

Pulling up your driveway, you forgot to the leave the outside lights on and it looked quite ominous in the cool fall night.  There were barely any leaves left on the trees and you scolded yourself about the lights not being on.  

Using your flashlight on your phone, you unlocked your front door and turned on the outside and inside lights.  You wanted to make sure when Lisa dropped off Dodger that she would be able to see things clearly.

Not long after being home, your doorbell rang.  It startled you at first, but then you realized Dodger was being dropped off and you happily made it to your front door.  

Upon opening it, you saw Dodger standing there, but it wasn’t Lisa holding on to his leash.

“You’re not Lisa” you blurted out on impulse.  

The guy holding his leash gave you a “no shit” look before laughing hysterically.  

“No, no I am not.  But I am one of her spawn.  I’m Scott” he stated with a friendly smile.  

You slapped your hand on your forehead feeling like an idiot.  Both Lisa and Chris had shown you pictures of Scott before but with everything going on in the past few weeks, realization never hit you when you saw him.

“I am so sorry.  I feel like an idiot” you said as your face became hot with embarrassment.

“Pffttt don’t sweat it” Scott said as he waved his hand in the air, “When my mom said she was bringing Dodger over here, I told her I would do it.  I have been DYING to meet you!” he finished with enthusiasm.  

A smile appeared on your face as you opened your door wider.  “Well then, by all means, please come in.”

Scott bent down to grab a big paper bag and you quirked your eyebrow at him.  “What?  I heard you were a delight to chat with so I brought food and beer.  Hope that’s alright?”

Your eyebrows rose in not only shock, but also in pure joy.  “You are my hero right now Scott!” you beamed as he followed you inside your house.  

~~~

Three hours later, you and Scott were giggling on your couch as you were waiting for your mud masks to harden.  The pizza was gone, and between the two of you, the case of beer was gone too.  You both talked about anything and everything. He had learned your whole life story and you his.  Scott even told more stories about him and Chris growing up and your stomach, yet again, hurt from laughing so hard.  

“You look so fucking funny” you laughed out, looking at Scott’s face caked in his mud mask.  

He rolled his eyes at you and smiled, “You’re not looking much better!”

Just then, your phone started to ring as Chris was calling you.  “It’s my boyfran!!!” you said in a sing-song voice as you were a bit drunk.

Scott grabbed the phone from you and answered it but didn’t say anything.  Instead, he turned it to video call and waited for Chris to turn his on too.  You could hear Chris through the speaker calling your name in confusion.  Scott came to sit next to you, both appearing on the screen and giggling at your appearances.  

It didn’t take long for Chris to realize you had switched to video call and his far appeared on the screen. Both you and Scott giving him goofy faces making Chris spit out his drink in realization.  

“Scott?  What the hell are you doing there?” Chris questioned in confusion which quickly turned into laughter as you and Scott kept making silly faces; your mud masks covering your face.  

Scott rolled his eyes at Chris before speaking.  “Well, seeing as you and mom can’t STOP talking about this beautiful lady right here” he said motioning to you, “I just had to come see and talk to her for myself. And must I say Chris….she is a KEEPER!” Scott shrilled out.  Thank god your mud mask was on because your face was pulsating from the heat at Scott’s compliment.  

A small chuckle came from Chris’ throat as a smile appeared on his face.  “Like I told Ma, I already know she’s a keeper Scott.”

“Alright my mask is well formed, I’m going to leave you two to talk while I scrub this off my face” Scott said as he got up from the couch and strolled to the bathroom, singing a random song softly.

Turning back to face Chris, you gave him a shy smile.  “I really like Scott” you said as you peered at Chris through your lashes.  

“He’s a pretty good guy” Chris responded to you, eyes locked on yours.  “I really miss you sweetheart.  I can’t wait to see you in a few days.”

Your smile grew wider but you found it difficult as your mud mask was formed, making your facial expressions pretty restricted.  “Three more days” you sighed in content.  

“How is everything going with the shop?”

“So well Chris. Everything is running smoothly. Everyone I hired to help me out are wonderful and making things so easy.  The construction crew is almost done and they’ve been so helpful!” you beamed in excitement.

“And that creepy guy?” he asked with distaste.

You let out a deep breath at his words, feeling disturbed.  “I don’t know.  I mean, he delivers things so I see him around the different shops nearby.  I just have this weird feeling about him Chris. I don’t know how to explain it” you said solemnly.  

“The security system will be up and running tomorrow sweetheart.  There is no way anybody or anything will get through that alright? And I’ll be home by Monday and I can stay for as long as you want me to.”

Your heart jumped in your chest as you thought of Chris staying with you more often.  Lets be real, you wouldn’t mind him staying over more often, but you didn’t want to ruin the honeymoon phase of your relationship too early, especially if these gut feelings about that creepy guy turn out to be nothing.  

“I appreciate that Chris. I think Scott is actually staying over tonight.  We may have had a bit too much to drink” you giggled out as you hiccupped.  

Chris smiled at your giggling form as his hand reached up to scratch at his beard.  Damn that beard.  You were so happy he didn’t have to shave it just yet as you wanted to know what it would feel like on your thighs, hell, on your whole body.  You clit tingled at the thought of Chris ravishing your body and you had to clench your thighs.  

“I’m going to let you go sweetheart, I’m gettin pretty tired here.  I’ll see you in three days ok?”

“Alright Chris. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight sweetheart.”

~~~

You scrubbed the mask off your face and showed Scott one of the guest bedrooms for him to sleep in. As you made your way to your room, you stumbled around a bit, the drinking really starting to take effect.  Dodger hopped up on your bed as he eagerly waited for you to climb in and cuddle with him.  

Finishing your bathroom duties, you stripped off your shirt and walked back to your bedroom to get a clean one; the shirt you were wearing had some remnants of the mud mask on it. A few bright flashes caught your eye but at this point, your mind was in such a haze you didn’t even think anything about it.  Putting on a shirt, you climbed into bed as Dodger cuddled up next to you.  

~~~

The weekend flew by quickly. Your security system was up and running by Saturday afternoon and you had an appointment with them during the week to set up a security system for your new shop.  They showed you how to work the system and you were relieved to realize just how easy it would be.  You already felt a bit safer in your house.  

Saturday afternoon you and Scott took Dodger for a walk and then went to dinner in town.  Per usual, the conversation flowed effortlessly and the laughing almost never died down.  

Sunday was spent as a lazy day indoors.  You cleaned around the house as you wanted to make sure you wouldn’t have any chores to do for when Chris came home.  You wanted to spend as much of your free time from the shop with him once he returned.

Monday morning you awoke with a smile plastered on your face.  Chris was coming home today and you couldn’t be more happy.  Looking at your phone, you saw a text from Chris from about four hours ago saying he was on the plane and heading your way.  His flight would be about five hours and you jumped out of bed and started spazzing around your room; your arms flailing around as your feet took you off the floor.  Dodger just stared at you as if something was wrong.  Chris must have switched to an earlier flight since he wasn’t supposed to be home until later this afternoon.  

“Your daddy will be home in a little bit Dodger!!” you squealed as you rushed towards him, scratching his head and belly as his tail wagged freely.  “Do you have to go potty?”  Dodger immediately gave you a bark letting him know he did and the two of you raced down the stairs.  You had so much energy filtering through your body.  

Opening the front door, Dodger raced out to the lawn to do his business.  Looking down, you noticed there was a small bouquet of flowers on your front step, along with an envelope.  

“That’s weird” you said to yourself as your face scrunched up, “Why wouldn’t they have just rang the doorbell?”

Your immediate thought was that the flowers were from Chris of course and another letter from him. As your heart started racing from the excitement of what Chris’ words would entail on the letter, you and Dodger made your way back inside.  

The bouquet of flowers was very small compared to the ones Chris normally got you so you hitched it under your arm as you tore open the letter.  

Your heart stopped in your throat as your arm holding the flowers gave out and the vase dropped to the floor, shattering into tiny pieces.  Dodger, in alarm, ran upstairs from the loud noise as your shaky hands started going through the pictures.  

They were pictures of you, all of them.  The first few were of you outside, leaving your shop, walking Dodger around the neighborhood, playing outside with Dodger.  The next few were of you driving your car, to and from your shop, leaving Lisa’s house, Scott in the passenger side from when you went to dinner.  The last few made your heart drop to your stomach. You were topless, in your room.  

Your breathing started to quicken as your hands shook with such ferocity; your mind fuzzy as you fell to your knees, glass shards tearing into your skin.  You felt as if you couldn’t breathe, like someone was blocking your oxygen from getting into your lungs as tears formed in your eyes.  

In the state you were in, you didn’t know what to do, who to call.  Chris was on a flight so his phone wouldn’t work no matter how hard you tried. You didn’t even think of calling the police in your haze; instead, you called the only other person you could think of.  

“Hello?” Lisa’s soft voice answered on the other end of the phone.  As much as you willed it to, her voice did nothing at this point to calm your frantic state; you couldn’t even speak.  All you did was try to breathe, as best you could as tears flowed, your sobs evident to Lisa.  

“Y/N?  Sweetie what’s wrong?  Are you alright?” you could hear the panic in her voice as you tried to form words.  

“Li-Lisa” you managed to cry out.  

“Are you at home?” Lisa questioned in panic.  You nodded your head but soon realized she couldn’t see you.  

“Y-yes” you choked out as you heard rumblings around on the other end of the phone.  “SCOTT!” you heard Lisa shout, but it was drowned out by the blood pumping through your ears.  “Scott hurry, you’re coming with me!  Y/N, we will be there soon.  Just breathe honey, breathe in and out” Lisa said as reassuringly as she could.  

You did your best to take your advice but it wasn’t working so well.  Your chest heaved, trying to get air but nothing was happening.  As your head became fuzzier, the tears came tumbling down your face like a waterfall.  Lisa stayed on the phone with you, trying to keep you as calm as you could.

You faintly heard the sound of paws on hard floor as you looked up.  Dodger was standing in front of you, but far enough from the glass to not get hurt, his whimpered voice coming out in concern for you.  

It didn’t take long before Lisa and Scott came barreling through your door in haste; gasps coming from each of their mouths as they saw you sitting on the floor near the shattered vase; pictures of you scattered everywhere.  

“Shit” Scott whispered as he came near you and carefully helped you to your feet.  You cried out in pain as your knees locked into place, blood soaking through your pants from the glass.  He picked you up, bridal style as he brought you to the living room; Lisa fresh on his tail.  

Your breathing became somewhat normal but you were in too much shock to say anything.  

“I’m going to call the police alright sweetie?” Lisa said as she moved to the kitchen.

“Chr-Chris…Chris” you gasped out as your eyes became wide and your body shook.  

“Shh…it’s alright Y/N” Scott cooed trying to ease you down.  He checked his phone before glancing cautiously at you.  “His flight is probably landing right about now.  I’m going to call him and tell him to come straight here ok?”

“Please do-don’t tell him wh-what happened.  I don’t want hi-him to be wor-worried while he dr-drives” you managed to hiccup out between short breaths and shakes.  

Scott just gave you a sullen look as he nodded his head at you.  He got off the couch once Lisa sat down next to you, not wanting to leave you alone by yourself.  Lisa placed the photos on the table in front of you as she gathered your hands into her; your sobs taking over your body again as you leaned into her touch.  

“Ssshhh, I’ve got you sweetie.  You let it out” she said as she soothingly rubbed your back.  

Why was this happening to you?  This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.  You just wanted to move here, and start a new beginning.  Things were going great with Chris, and you had a new business. But now, you didn’t know if you even wanted any of that.  You didn’t want to put Chris in danger, and now you didn’t even know if you would have the courage to step a foot outside.  

Holding onto Lisa for dear life, you continued to sob and not once did you feel awkward about it. Lisa had practically taken you in as a daughter, and you were grateful for that.  You didn’t know what you would have done if you hadn’t met her, or Scott for that matter.  

Before long, the police showed up.  Scott took the initiative to talk to them, letting you take the time you needed to calm down in Lisa’s arms.  You were a mess and you knew it.  This wasn’t the way you wanted to greet Chris after a month and a half apart.  

The police understood how scared and frightened you were, so they decided to take fingerprints and pictures; letting you take the time you needed to gather yourself before talking with you.  They saw you were in good hands with Scott and Lisa.  

You heard a “ping” go off and your droopy eyes glanced up to see Scott look at his phone.  Your mind still fuzzy and hazed, trying to process everything didn’t notice Scott lean down to whisper something to Lisa.  She continued rocking you back and forth in her arms, not even caring that some of your bloods from your knees were getting onto her.

Scott met Chris outside when he pulled up as he wanted to explain why there were a bunch of Police cars parked outside.  

“Where is she!” Chris’ voice demanded from outside, causing your eyes to open while you were still in Lisa’s arms.  Your heart rate spiked at his voice, knowing that he was here.  

Carefully, you lifted your now sore neck and looked up, seeing Chris standing there in the entryway looking at the mess on the floor.  He started moving slowly around the broken glass, towards the living room where you were.  As his eyes landed on you, he froze.  His eyes wide stared back at you as his hand went to cover his mouth.  

Tears started forming immediately in your eyes again as you took him in; tears of relief that Chris was here; tears of sadness that he had to witness you like this.  

“Y/N” he whispered out as he removed his hand from his mouth, staring at you in shock before his feet willed him to move closer to you.

A/N: AAnnnnddd major cliffhanger there guys.  I’m sorry!  I wanted to give a shout out to @potterhead1265 for some ideas she gave me for this chapter!

Tag List: @evansfanficweekly @iamwarrenspeace @castellandiangelo @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @potterhead1265 @missfirstavenger @always-an-evans-addict @soymikael @zofty15 @createdbytinyaddiction @smoothdogsgirl @capcevans81 @domcaaa996 @nina-bok @vampgirl1997 @fandoms-writer @ssweet-empowerment @thedoctorscamanion @iclaudsworld @whispersofjoy @walkingtravesty97 @srgntjbarnes @rose-quartz17 @sincerelytlh @katiew1973 @miss-cap21

[antiques-for-geeks]

Game Review : Beach Head

US Gold/Access / 1985 / Originally £5.95 / Commodore 16 & Plus/4

Access were in at the start of the home computing revolution. They’re one of those companies that you probably know the games better than the company that made them; Raid over Moscow was one of theirs, as well as Leaderboard and later, Links. Before any of those arrived though, there was Beach Head.

The game was based on some classic World War II style Pacific Ocean theatre action. Everything about the game suggested it; the cover art bathed in the imagery with it’s fighter planes strafing the beach as the landing craft deposited their human cargo ready for the onslaught. The map that greets you at the start of your campaign could be of any Pacific atoll. You can almost hear Douglas MacArthur shouting “I shall return”.

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General Douglas MacArthur, yesterday.

The game was a hit, and was picked up for distribution in Europe by US Gold, conquering this side of the Atlantic. Players who didn’t have a Commodore 64 or Atari home computer soon wanted in on it so US Gold commissioned conversions from other developers, with Ocean notably handling the well received Spectrum version. That sold well too.

So when the Commodore 16 and Plus/4 came along in 1984, US Gold decided to treat owners of those systems to their own version of the game. Beach Head was given to Anirog to convert, who were gaining a bit of a reputation as platform specialists. The game arrived in 1985, two years after Access had released the original.

Firstly, the developers had their work cut out. Anirog had to contend with a target machine with far less resource than the other systems Beach Head had been converted to. Compromise was inevitable.

Just missed ‘im. This happens a lot.

On other systems, Beach Head is made of four stages - you start with a fleet of eight ships and from a map screen you can choose to take them through an underground cavern, threading your boats between mines and torpedoes to make the later levels easier to complete.

This is then followed by the first shooting gallery section; your fleet has been intercepted by enemy ships and you must launch a defence against incoming bombers who will eventually sink your ships if you don’t shoot them down first. Once the enemy is out of fighters (or just bored, it’s never clear which) this then turns into a second shooting gallery round where your attention passes to trying to sink the enemy’s fleet of shops.

Do that and it’s back to the map screen and charging your ships towards the beach and unleashing your tanks over an obstacle course so they get a chance at the fifth level - destroying the big gun at Kuhn Lin in another shooting gallery level. Inexplicably on this level, the enemy gun takes a long time to aim at you and bizarrely, you have to shoot targets at the base of the weapon. This is what causes the gun to blow up - maybe this is what happens when “we’re tired of experts” extends into the military.

Anyway, can you start to see where this is going?

On the Commodore 16, Gone is the map screen and the underground cavern where you thread your way through mines and dodge torpedoes to bring your boats through. Most significantly, the final level is truncated, removing the tank advance, which was a favourite for many players. Anirog focussed on the three which shared the most in common. What remains is still the core of the game however - protect your fleet first from incoming planes, sink the enemy fleet before they sink you, take on the big gun.

Being so significantly cut down was of course necessary for the small memory of the Commodore 16. It could have been done as a multi-load, but then the flow of the game would have been compromised. Plus/4 users, with their 64k of memory get the same thin gruel as everyone else, the size of that market unable to support two separate versions. It could barely support one, but that is for another time.

With the reduced footprint, it is still not enough.The graphics measure up to the C64 original, the sound is serviceable, but there has been a significant compromise in terms of playability.

Your gun turret - your main interface with the game is incredibly difficult to control. You can aim it just fine, adjust the height just fine and a fire just fine. But not all at the same time.

On other versions, combining actions was taken for granted. Sink a ship in the sea-battle level and you’re already moving across the screen changing your weapon’s angle as you go. It’s part of the game. Every fraction of a second counts. However here, try combining things and the turret just stops. Then there is the disappearing turret; when this happens, you really don’t have much idea of what is going on. It’s like conducting a war via seance. Except you’ve not got the plant in the room banging the table leg with their foot when the fake medium wails “is there anybody there”.

This bizarre situation just about works with static targets once you get used to it, but when defending the fleet from incoming fighters and taking on the big gun? It just doesn’t work. You end up just resigning yourself to keeping the gun in one position and elevation and keep firing, hoping that the planes fly into your shots like a blundering toddler into a set of closed patio doors. The element of skill is removed from the game completely and it becomes a weary battle of attrition with you hoping that you don’t lose too many ships to make it to the later levels.

The fighters gone, a ship starts shelling me. God knows what is going on. Press fire and hope for the best.

Why there is a such a glaring hole in the game is inexcusable and smacks of the kind of half-arsed platform exploitation that US Gold were infamous for. Compare this to literally any other game on the Commodore 16 and it really feels like an unfinished budget title rather than something crafted and worthy of your £5.95.

But! Bill Herd who designed the Commodore 16 and Plus/4 said they were never intended to be games machines. They were meant to be more basic machines that extended at the top end into the business market. They were meant for text editing. Give Anirog a break! Oh yeah? Played Trailblazer?

Buying it today

From what we can make out, it does not seem to appear that often so does have a certain uniqueness to it. The C64, Atari and Spectrum copies are ubiquitous but other platforms a lot less so. It was re-released on the Americana label, though this seems to be rarer than the full-price version. Expect to pay anything up to £10.

Commentariat

Tim : Sad to say, but Beach Head has not aged well. While not a bad game, it is very much of its time regardless of the system you play it on. The game is a nice walk down nostalgia lane and in some ways is one game you yearn to return to, but when you do it’s not as good as you remember. This stands in stark contrast to Raid over Moscow...

Liking this version is doubly hard. The cut-down nature of the game I can understand, being fundamentally unable to play I can’t. Don’t waste your time or money unless you are a completist or masochist or both.

Score Lord : How did you get my number? Don’t call again.

Meat : Back during Christmas 1983, my next-door neighbour’s big present was a Commodore 64. He and his brother were given the machine and also had two games, Gorf which came on cartridge and was great for a quick blast and Beach Head which came on cassette which to begin with, they couldn’t play. Their Dad having only seen a Spectrum and thought he’d save a few quid using by a household tape recorder instead of the necessary Datasette. The idiot.

When we finally got to play it, we loved it. So much so that the following Christmas I got the Spectrum version for my poverty-spec gaming experience.  Imagine my surprise when I found out a version of Beach Head existed on the equally poverty-spec Commodore 16.

After eagerly loading it, I was hoping for a smart conversion that played to the strengths of the machine. The reality could not have been further from the truth. Disappointed was not the word. Just for comparison I checked out the Spectrum version again and yeah, the problem wasn’t rose-tinted glasses.

Between them, Anirog and US Gold had managed to take a decent game and make it both uncontrollable and dull. Send for the Inspector, a crime has been committed.

Score card

Presentation 5/10

You get the full-price experience for the time, which is quite nice. At least this is an area where they could be arsed.

Originality 2/10

Coming in 1985, the novelty factor of the original was two years passed. With the compression of the game, it’s lost even more in these stakes. It’s now basically just a shooting gallery game, with the fun sucked out of it.

Graphics 4/10

Not going to win any awards, but tidy enough. Hold on, are those blobs supposed to be ships?

Hookability 1/10

You can’t really play it effectively.

Sound 3/10

There isn’t much, but what there is has been done satisfactorily.

Lastability 1/10

No hook into the game, no point in playing.

Value for Money 1/10

Not worth £5.95 of anyone’s cash in 1985 and certainly not worth that today.

Overall 2/10

A conversion so wretched that at the time you’d have been better off putting the money towards a second-hand C64 and picking the title up on budget. Today, it’s for the collector only.

[dustedmagazine]

Listed: Axis:Sova

Photo by Grant Engstrom

Axis: Sova has grown from a one-person operation to full-fledged heavy psych juggernaut with last year’s Motor Earth. In 2015, Ben Donnelly observed that, with Early Surf, “Axis: Sova make heavy psych that bears the traces of bedroom multi-tracking, epic and casual at the same time. Some more fidelity wouldn't hurt their fuzz forms, but the chunks of treble and simple beatbox steps give it an appealing down-to-earth quality.”  Founder Brett Sova contributes a list this week.   

ZZ TOP — “Under Pressure,” “Gimmie All Your Lovin’" and “Sharp Dressed Man” Live On The Tube 1983   

When it comes to the Little Ol’ Band from Texas, the first few records are undeniably hot and where it’s at. But Eliminator is mostly Billy Gibbons working with a drum machine if legend has it right, and top to bottom it delivers with extremely high impact. It’s a big commercial sound, for sure, but that type of ambition following a successful formula is a credit to Gibbons’ vision and willingness to morph and change creatively. BFG’s guitar tone here in particular is one I was after a little bit on Motor Earth — distorted amp saturation that feeds back whenever you’re not playing, bleeding. Something I always listen for with ZZ is the number of guitar tracks on each song — while they’re an exemplary power trio live, Billy tends to at least double track his guitar on a lot of recordings, and sometimes he’ll have two rhythm tracks panned to either side along with another track for the solo (check Tres Hombres, for example). Always pretty tasteful and subtle. (Axis: bandmate) Tim Kaiser and I set out to make our version of a boogie rock record with Motor Earth, and along with Beefheart’s Clear Spot, some Crazy Horse, and some requisite Stonesian scuzz, ZZ provide much blueprint for something of that nature for me, personally. All that aside, this footage of the band doing “Under Pressure” on 1980s British TV show The Tube is simply badass and I'd question the health of anyone who doesn't enjoy it.   

Les Rallizes Denudes  "Night of the Assassins" 3rd Sunset Festival Live 1976  

Been on a mild Japanese psych kick, and this is the original artifact: Les Rallizes Denudes playing one of their iconic songs live (of course) at a festival at dusk against a glorious, mountainous backdrop. Their noise comes atop something simple and repetitive to latch onto, which allows their feeding lead guitar squalor to fully envelop and carry me around as if strapped to a horse on a patient gallop. It's yearning for something, like anything FSA, if FSA was ever accompanied by Link Wray-ish, rhythmic progressions. Melody and groove on the foundation, a screech of feedback over the top: "I Will Follow Him," but decapitated. 

Electric Eels — “Splittery Splat”  

One of the interesting things about growing up in Ohio and then leaving at the age of 18, when your brain is still mushy, is slowly realizing, especially once outside of it, just how much great, fucked up music has come from the state. There are the obvious and hugely successful ones, like, say, Devo, and there are some like Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments, a band I saw numerous times in high school and sorta just took for granted as simply being ‘the guy from Used Kids Records’ band.’ I just saw TJSA in September at Cropped Out Festival (a.k.a. the most important festival on the planet), in Louisville, KY, for the first time in 15+ years and they were phenomenal — they represent to me a lineage of Ohio punk/weirdo music that is entirely genius yet also entirely too out for a broader audience (major label support or no), much like V3 or Tommy Jay, or Electric Eels. This Electric Eels song was on a Scat Records cassette compilation that my friend discovered when we were teenagers in the late 1990s. Apparently I borrowed it and never gave it back, because I recently rediscovered it when going through a box of tapes not too long ago. It’s a perfectly fucked punk song, from composition to delivery to recording and mix. Seems like they’ve gotten a lot of reissue treatment, but I’ll always remember this song from the Scat tape.  

Fumio Miyashta (Far East Family Band) Live On Boffomundo 

Embedding is disabled but you can go here and watch: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RHNLtEMl2dg

Killer live performance of mellow headtrips via one of Japan’s psych-rock purveyors in the proggiest sense, Fumio Miyashta (of Far East Family Band). These dudes he’s playing with really lock into it, with tasty, mellow guitar leads and a pulsing bass mingling with the space-synth sounds Miyashta is laying out there. A relaxing and deep listen, but also buoyant and light, at times reminiscent of Blackouts by Ashra, which came out three years prior to this performance on The Boffomundo show, an early cable TV show dedicated to progressive music.  

The Stooges — “My Girl Hates My Heroin” from My Girl Hates My Heroin 

Unmatched depravity — like The Stones recording at Nellcote to get that dusty, humid summer basement vibe for Exile, this jam/gem from a rehearsal around the Raw Power era comes from a neighborly basement with similarly thick air. I make no bones about worshiping at the house of Ron Asheton (Fun House forever), and therefore must point out his nimble and fluid bass playing on My Girl Hates My Heroin, pushing this grimy riff forward, but Williamson really had a gnarled, unhinged nastiness to his playing that’s immediately enjoyable, as well. Iggy sounds like hell, like he should. Bought this on CD at a record store in Paris when I was in high school, and listening to it made me feel like a tough dude for the rest of that year.

Alice Coltrane — Huntington Ashram Monastery  

Lacking depravity — empowering! Impossible to do a list without including Alice Coltrane. Journey to Satchidinanda is one of the few records I’ve ever bought new that I’ve truly worn out from excessive plays. Huntington Ashram Monastery might be more consistently played currently. It’s a power trio album, the Rashied Ali and Ron Carter rhythm section out to quake. Relatedly, last time I was in San Francisco I visited the Saint John Coltrane Church, where we listened to and meditated on A Love Supreme in its entirety. As a congregation — which didn’t consist of more than a handful of people — we collectively chanted/sang along when it was time, and otherwise actively listened free of distraction. The experience felt like an open window into the spirituality so prevalent in his and Alice’s music.

Royal Trux — Untitled (3rd album) 

“Your beautiful skin, your beautiful spine / You’re beautiful all the time.” Chunky acoustics, insulation, isolation and utter abandon in the form of serrated guitar squeals from the edges of Neil Hagerty’s torn up plectrum straight to your ears. The album begins as something earnest, almost pensive, a light haze akin to just waking up, and proceeds to slowly rise out of bed and begin to walk around, shaking out the legs and cracking the joints til the moss rolls off and the stimulant (or analgesic) hits the vein. From there, its loose openness stretches into a broad expanse, allowing for glorious feedback-laden solos to cover the sonic horizon, barely-there rhythm action holding it together by sheer will. Not much percussion, no bass? More room for what matters! Herrera’s voice right in the sweet spot with bad intent, “on top.”  The things I want and need from rock n' roll.  

Randy Holden — “Blue My Mind” from Population II

Randy Holden, the badass who spent a year and half an album in Blue Cheer, realized his vision with the unmatched velocity of his solo album, Population II. I was just hipped to one of his earliest bands, The Other Half, for whom Randy Holden played guitar prior to his stint in Blue Cheer, and the power and brilliance of his song construction is evident and completely identifiable even there— but Population II is the full realization of Holden’s six-string swagger damage, and “Blue My Mind” is the highlight for me. There’s barely a drop of effects (ok there are overdubs), it’s just the sound of one man blasting through a literal wall of 200 watt Sunn Amps (16 of ‘em?) with minimal bass and drum accompaniment. Sunn amps have a distinctive sound: their reverb isn’t close to sounding “sparkly” the way someone might describe a vintage Fender with admiration. Instead, when cranked, they sound kinda like a guitar being played through an overheated A/C window unit or maybe a tube-powered hairdryer in a tile bathroom that’s meticulously mic’d through a high powered PA System. It’s not for everybody, but that gnarled and blunt quality cannot be matched, requiring zero fuzz or distortion pedal whatsoever to achieve a gloriously saturated molten tone that somehow retains bell-like clarity. Early days for Axis: Sova was playing through a ’67 Sunn Sceptre exclusively. While that’s not the case anymore, it’s very present on songs from our previous album, Early Surf, especially the title track’s main riff. Guitars in front!  

Velvet Underground — “What Goes On”  Live at the Hilltop Festival 2nd August 1969  

Featuring Mo Tucker, the human metronome. I wish I could get a snare sound out of my drum machine like this. Its rhythmic simplicity set against skittering guitars produces counter beats and accents that start to feel like Terry Riley’s sat in — especially once the organ begins to fry. 

Sonny Sharrock — “Once Upon a Time” from Ask the Ages   

Stately and serene, a song beholden of wisdom and truth. You know, hopeful. The melody has a patient emotion that doesn’t force itself on the listener, but rather amplifies whatever feeling the listener has at that moment — be it upbeat, uplifting, or melancholy.  Especially gritty tone and saturation. Sonny Sharrock’s last album is amazing, with a killer band including Pharaoh Sanders and Elvin Jones.  

Steve Hillage — “Salmon Song” live in 1977   

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Hypnosis via riff-phrase, let it slip, put a driving, unwavering bass line underneath it, and soar towards a gassy nebula… its space-prog breakdowns and solos cascade and shimmer, and then the riff rises again. The whole album, Fish Rising, is cool, but not as tough to beat as this live performance of its best jam, "Salmon Song."

Rafael Toral — Wave Field   

Wave Field - Remastered by Rafael Toral =

Aside from Flying Saucer Attack, who regularly achieve something similar, there are few pieces of guitar music that convey as much emotional expression through feedback and drone as well as Wave Field by Portugal’s Rafael Toral.  It’s deep, theta brainwave meditation is enveloping and surreal — it drips and distorts reality like the best painters of the genre — to a liquid degree, akin to floating in a sensory deprivation tank. Having gone looking for it online, I just discovered that Rafael has remastered it to create what he feels is a more spacious sounding recording, more in line with his original vision. I’m not entirely sure which sounds better to me: both versions fit like a snug wetsuit in bath water. 

[sharionpage]

An Uneventful Apparition

Holy Thursday, April 2 2015 – Michelle Wiener’s account

Previously in a post entitled “On Yom Kippur” (2015), I wrote about a sacred experience in which I encountered three mysterious Hispanic women by a waterfall in the mountains of North Carolina. I mentioned briefly in that post that I had seen these women two other times.

Today, I am going to share the details of the third appearance; it’s now been two years, and I am just now writing about it. Such sacred experiences are not easy to write about because few people believe you anyway, and yet you know what you experienced was something profound beyond description.

One might wonder what a Mormon convert from a Baptist background was doing in a Catholic Church, but that night I was there with two of my friends, Tim and Kelly, a married couple of nearly thirty years.  I sometimes visit their church for special evening services, although my faith remains Mormon. They have also visited my church, as of recently. That particular night I visited their church was Holy Thursday, the Mass (Sacrament Meeting, in Mormon terminology) right before Easter, which included a foot washing ceremony.

My story, as far as the apparition is concerned, is fairly simple, and therefore relatively uneventful, as far as apparitions are concerned. That night, we took a seat, and I noticed three Hispanic women sitting behind me who looked vaguely familiar. My heart skipped a beat, and I did not look directly at them. I thought to myself, “This can’t be.” I comforted myself with the thought that this could be anybody; Sacred Heart does house a Hispanic congregation. But at the same time, I had a strange feeling it was them, so I was thinking, “Oh, no….here we go again.” I said nothing and got ready for the service.

While I was sitting in the service, I continued to look around me and considered the all-male priesthood; it reminded me so much of my own church, also male dominant with only men serving Sacrament. In that moment, I longed for Heavenly Mother. I had all but forgotten about the three mysterious women sitting behind me.

Then at one crucial point in the liturgy, which switched back and forth between English and Spanish, I got lost in the Spanish. Something prompted me to turn my head around, and the lady standing directly behind me pointed me to the correct place in the liturgy so I could follow along. Afterwards, she winked at me. I suddenly knew.

Later as I was reflecting on the evening’s activities with my friends, I asked them if they noticed the women behind us. They both had noticed the three Hispanic women, but did not get a good look at them. However, my friend Kelly did say that she could tell I had experienced something very sacred in my interactions with those women. I was taken back; I had only interacted with one of the women, and very briefly, at that!

For a while I questioned it. Could it really have been them? Nah! I was just imagining things. By this point, I had told my husband about it, so he knew. One night as I was ironing my clothes, I mentioned the woman to my husband, and added without thinking that she had winked at me. My husband just stared at me dumbfounded and asked why I had never mentioned that. Later he admitted that she had winked at him last time we saw her! Apparently, that was her signal.

A year and a half later, again on the eve of Yom Kippur, I found myself in the parish priest, Father Eckert’s office, with long-time friend of mine, Mark Sells, another ex-Baptist, sharing the story. In that meeting, I bore my testimony of Joseph Smith, and the Book of Mormon – to the Catholic priest, along with sharing my story of visiting the Sacred Grove and how much it meant to me. This is a “missionary opportunity” most Mormons don’t even receive. However, nobody in my own church knows about this, because how would I even begin to explain this whole scenario away to my Bishop, or others in the ward, for that matter?

Now here is where the story gets crazy! My Catholic friends believe this was indeed an apparition, but it was the Virgin Mary, not Heavenly Mother! However, I have always stood my ground, and I explained to the priest my thoughts on this, pointing out the consistency with Mormon doctrine. What I have never doubted – and I told my friends this – was that one of the women very well could have been the Virgin Mary! I never denied it outright; I just don’t believe the one I spoke to was Mary. I never have.

What made the story even more intriguing was how the services are always taped, yet the priest looked through the archives and could not find a copy of the tape from that particular service! She obviously did not want to be caught on tape.

Today, my devotion to our Mother in Heaven remains strong. I do believe it was Her, although I am certainly not closed off to Marian devotion, whether to the Virgin Mary or Mary Magdalene (as the Bride of Christ), as I believe both to be earthly manifestations/representations of Heavenly Mother.

——————————————————————————————————————-

Response to Michelle Wiener’s account of Holy Thursday 2015

by Mark Sells

I have had the privilege of knowing Michelle Wiener as a friend since we were both members of Franklin Baptist Church.  Michelle and I both struggled with our religious upbringing.  My fundamentalist background led me for a while to embrace atheism, but ultimately–and largely through the help of C. S. Lewis, I was brought for the first time to historical Christianity and finally, more specifically, to the Catholic Church.  Michelle went through a similar time of doubt and exploration and her journey has brought her to the Mormon faith.  Because the events that Michelle describe took place at Sacred Heart Catholic Church where I am a parishioner, she has graciously invited me to offer my own interpretation of what happened or might have happened that night.  For the record, I can attest that despite her generosity and her eagerness to meet with me and with my pastor, Michelle has not in any way renounced her Mormon beliefs.

Let me begin by saying that I do not doubt the reality of the experiences Michelle describes.  It is possible that the women behind her in Mass also met with her by a waterfall in the mountains of North Carolina.  There are no coincidences in life, only God’s Providence.  It seems to me that only two questions remain:  Was this a heavenly visitation?  And, if so, what is its significance?

Catholics certainly believe that the saints in Heaven can appear–in accordance with God’s will–to those on earth for the edification of our souls.  Fortunately, though, we have a simple test as to whether such a visit or any private revelation is divine in origin:  Does the apparition contradict what God has already publicly revealed to the faithful in the Deposit of Faith, that is through Sacred Scripture and Apostolic Teaching?  If it does, then the apparition cannot be of God.  I believe that Joseph Smith’s own claims of heavenly visitation and private revelation in which much of this Deposit of Faith was explicitly contradicted shows that his teaching and the subsequent development of the doctrine of Heavenly Mother are therefore unhistorical and false.

However, I am not claiming that Michelle’s experience was false or that it was not of God.  If her experience was supernatural, I am only claiming that there is a more likely interpretation of what happened which I will get to in a moment.  In the meantime, I will admit that I don’t have the space here to adequately defend the all-male nature of the priesthood.   I will say that the historic Church has reasons other than chauvinism for holding to it, reasons rooted in Divine Revelation and in particular rooted in Christ’s ministry and in the Church that He Himself founded.  Christ was not a slave to the mores of the time and place of His earthly ministry as can be read plainly in the Gospels.  The honor that He gave to the women of His day and His treatment of other marginalized groups shows that He transcended these cultural restrictions as we would expect the Incarnate Son of God to do.  Yet He chose twelve men for a special calling and gave them a special authority to speak and work sacramental wonders in His Name.  That authority and the sacraments that follow from it have existed in the Catholic Church down through the centuries to this very day.

I believe that if Michelle’s experience was supernatural that it was, in fact, of God.  When she first shared with me the account of her mysterious meeting with the Hispanic women at the waterfall, my mind immediately turned to Our Lady of Guadalupe, an appearance of the Blessed Virgin Mary that is credited with the miraculous conversion of Mexico.  (We have a stained glass representation of her appearing to St. Juan Diego in our church.)  I further believe that if Michelle’s Holy Thursday experience was a visitation that since it took place during the offering of Holy Mass and therefore in the presence of the Holy Eucharist under the auspices of the Catholic Church, that it was likely also an appearance of the Virgin Mary.  Michelle has more than once shared with me the yearning in her heart for what she calls the Divine Feminine.  I believe that this yearning is a good thing, a natural–even supernatural–longing.  And I believe this yearning, once properly understood and channeled, is gloriously fulfilled in the doctrines concerning Mary.  For Catholics and for many Eastern Orthodox, the most holy created being who ever lived is the Blessed Virgin Mary.  She was chosen by God to bear His Son, but she was not a passive vessel.  The Early Church Fathers of both the East and West rightly called her the new Eve as Christ is similarly called the new Adam.  Her YES to God’s plan in the prayer of the Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55) was described as the untying of the knot of disobedience that bound mankind.  Her cooperation with Divine Grace opened up the world to the Incarnation and to the possibility of Redemption.

This is only the beginning of the recognition that historical Christianity has for Our Lady:  She is the Theotokos, the God-Bearer, the Mother of God.  She is the Ark of the New Covenant who carried in her womb, the literal Word of God, the Bread of Life.  The original ark, though inanimate and perishable, and though carrying only inanimate and perishable things, was treated with enormous reverence, so much so that to touch upon it unworthily could lead to death.  How much more reverence then does the Church rightly show for the person Mary, made in God’s image and preordained to give birth to and to raise His Son.  And so there is an even better reason to suppose that those who are seeking a “heavenly mother” will find her more aptly in Our Lady:  Mary is the Mother of Christ.  We are members of the Body of Christ.  She has long held the title Mother of the Church.  Thus every Christian is invited by the Church to call on her as Mother.  In our First Saturday Devotions, we even refer to Our Lady specifically as “heavenly Mother” and offer reparations on behalf of those who would turn “children against Mary as their heavenly Mother.”  These teachings and this title long predate any Mormon doctrine of “Heavenly Mother.  (“All generations shall call me blessed,” Mary prophesies in verse 48 from the Magnificat, and so all generations of Catholics have done so, most often referring to her as the Blessed Virgin Mary.  Mary is blessed by God in a unique way, but to clarify, she is not a goddess.  Polytheism is completely alien to Judaism and to historical Christianity.)

Finally, Catholics and the Eastern Orthodox believe that Mary was taken to be with the Godhead at the end of her natural life and that she now reigns as the Queen of Heaven.  The Church Fathers from the beginning taught that Revelation 12:1-3 describes Mary.  She is the “woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet.”  It is true that Christ chose twelve men to represent the twelve tribes of Israel who were in turn aligned with the twelve male heirs of Jacob.  But in the end, in the final unveiling, these twelve are revealed as an adornment to Our Lady, “a crown of twelve stars on her head” which she wears along with the sun and moon.  Thus every humble priest ordained by a bishop who in turn received his authority from the Apostles through Succession gladly venerates the Blessed Virgin Mary who is also known to us as Queen of the Apostles.

Hail Mary, Full of Grace, the Lord is with thee.  Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.  Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of our death.  Amen.

  Photo Credit: Robert Wiener

  An Uneventful Apparition published first on http://ift.tt/2wQcX5G

[sharionpage]

An Uneventful Apparition

Holy Thursday, April 2 2015 – Michelle Wiener’s account

Previously in a post entitled “On Yom Kippur” (2015), I wrote about a sacred experience in which I encountered three mysterious Hispanic women by a waterfall in the mountains of North Carolina. I mentioned briefly in that post that I had seen these women two other times.

Today, I am going to share the details of the third appearance; it’s now been two years, and I am just now writing about it. Such sacred experiences are not easy to write about because few people believe you anyway, and yet you know what you experienced was something profound beyond description.

One might wonder what a Mormon convert from a Baptist background was doing in a Catholic Church, but that night I was there with two of my friends, Tim and Kelly, a married couple of nearly thirty years.  I sometimes visit their church for special evening services, although my faith remains Mormon. They have also visited my church, as of recently. That particular night I visited their church was Holy Thursday, the Mass (Sacrament Meeting, in Mormon terminology) right before Easter, which included a foot washing ceremony.

My story, as far as the apparition is concerned, is fairly simple, and therefore relatively uneventful, as far as apparitions are concerned. That night, we took a seat, and I noticed three Hispanic women sitting behind me who looked vaguely familiar. My heart skipped a beat, and I did not look directly at them. I thought to myself, “This can’t be.” I comforted myself with the thought that this could be anybody; Sacred Heart does house a Hispanic congregation. But at the same time, I had a strange feeling it was them, so I was thinking, “Oh, no….here we go again.” I said nothing and got ready for the service.

While I was sitting in the service, I continued to look around me and considered the all-male priesthood; it reminded me so much of my own church, also male dominant with only men serving Sacrament. In that moment, I longed for Heavenly Mother. I had all but forgotten about the three mysterious women sitting behind me.

Then at one crucial point in the liturgy, which switched back and forth between English and Spanish, I got lost in the Spanish. Something prompted me to turn my head around, and the lady standing directly behind me pointed me to the correct place in the liturgy so I could follow along. Afterwards, she winked at me. I suddenly knew.

Later as I was reflecting on the evening’s activities with my friends, I asked them if they noticed the women behind us. They both had noticed the three Hispanic women, but did not get a good look at them. However, my friend Kelly did say that she could tell I had experienced something very sacred in my interactions with those women. I was taken back; I had only interacted with one of the women, and very briefly, at that!

For a while I questioned it. Could it really have been them? Nah! I was just imagining things. By this point, I had told my husband about it, so he knew. One night as I was ironing my clothes, I mentioned the woman to my husband, and added without thinking that she had winked at me. My husband just stared at me dumbfounded and asked why I had never mentioned that. Later he admitted that she had winked at him last time we saw her! Apparently, that was her signal.

A year and a half later, again on the eve of Yom Kippur, I found myself in the parish priest, Father Eckert’s office, with long-time friend of mine, Mark Sells, another ex-Baptist, sharing the story. In that meeting, I bore my testimony of Joseph Smith, and the Book of Mormon – to the Catholic priest, along with sharing my story of visiting the Sacred Grove and how much it meant to me. This is a “missionary opportunity” most Mormons don’t even receive. However, nobody in my own church knows about this, because how would I even begin to explain this whole scenario away to my Bishop, or others in the ward, for that matter?

Now here is where the story gets crazy! My Catholic friends believe this was indeed an apparition, but it was the Virgin Mary, not Heavenly Mother! However, I have always stood my ground, and I explained to the priest my thoughts on this, pointing out the consistency with Mormon doctrine. What I have never doubted – and I told my friends this – was that one of the women very well could have been the Virgin Mary! I never denied it outright; I just don’t believe the one I spoke to was Mary. I never have.

What made the story even more intriguing was how the services are always taped, yet the priest looked through the archives and could not find a copy of the tape from that particular service! She obviously did not want to be caught on tape.

Today, my devotion to our Mother in Heaven remains strong. I do believe it was Her, although I am certainly not closed off to Marian devotion, whether to the Virgin Mary or Mary Magdalene (as the Bride of Christ), as I believe both to be earthly manifestations/representations of Heavenly Mother.

——————————————————————————————————————-

Response to Michelle Wiener’s account of Holy Thursday 2015

by Mark Sells

I have had the privilege of knowing Michelle Wiener as a friend since we were both members of Franklin Baptist Church.  Michelle and I both struggled with our religious upbringing.  My fundamentalist background led me for a while to embrace atheism, but ultimately–and largely through the help of C. S. Lewis, I was brought for the first time to historical Christianity and finally, more specifically, to the Catholic Church.  Michelle went through a similar time of doubt and exploration and her journey has brought her to the Mormon faith.  Because the events that Michelle describe took place at Sacred Heart Catholic Church where I am a parishioner, she has graciously invited me to offer my own interpretation of what happened or might have happened that night.  For the record, I can attest that despite her generosity and her eagerness to meet with me and with my pastor, Michelle has not in any way renounced her Mormon beliefs.

Let me begin by saying that I do not doubt the reality of the experiences Michelle describes.  It is possible that the women behind her in Mass also met with her by a waterfall in the mountains of North Carolina.  There are no coincidences in life, only God’s Providence.  It seems to me that only two questions remain:  Was this a heavenly visitation?  And, if so, what is its significance?

Catholics certainly believe that the saints in Heaven can appear–in accordance with God’s will–to those on earth for the edification of our souls.  Fortunately, though, we have a simple test as to whether such a visit or any private revelation is divine in origin:  Does the apparition contradict what God has already publicly revealed to the faithful in the Deposit of Faith, that is through Sacred Scripture and Apostolic Teaching?  If it does, then the apparition cannot be of God.  I believe that Joseph Smith’s own claims of heavenly visitation and private revelation in which much of this Deposit of Faith was explicitly contradicted shows that his teaching and the subsequent development of the doctrine of Heavenly Mother are therefore unhistorical and false.

However, I am not claiming that Michelle’s experience was false or that it was not of God.  If her experience was supernatural, I am only claiming that there is a more likely interpretation of what happened which I will get to in a moment.  In the meantime, I will admit that I don’t have the space here to adequately defend the all-male nature of the priesthood.   I will say that the historic Church has reasons other than chauvinism for holding to it, reasons rooted in Divine Revelation and in particular rooted in Christ’s ministry and in the Church that He Himself founded.  Christ was not a slave to the mores of the time and place of His earthly ministry as can be read plainly in the Gospels.  The honor that He gave to the women of His day and His treatment of other marginalized groups shows that He transcended these cultural restrictions as we would expect the Incarnate Son of God to do.  Yet He chose twelve men for a special calling and gave them a special authority to speak and work sacramental wonders in His Name.  That authority and the sacraments that follow from it have existed in the Catholic Church down through the centuries to this very day.

I believe that if Michelle’s experience was supernatural that it was, in fact, of God.  When she first shared with me the account of her mysterious meeting with the Hispanic women at the waterfall, my mind immediately turned to Our Lady of Guadalupe, an appearance of the Blessed Virgin Mary that is credited with the miraculous conversion of Mexico.  (We have a stained glass representation of her appearing to St. Juan Diego in our church.)  I further believe that if Michelle’s Holy Thursday experience was a visitation that since it took place during the offering of Holy Mass and therefore in the presence of the Holy Eucharist under the auspices of the Catholic Church, that it was likely also an appearance of the Virgin Mary.  Michelle has more than once shared with me the yearning in her heart for what she calls the Divine Feminine.  I believe that this yearning is a good thing, a natural–even supernatural–longing.  And I believe this yearning, once properly understood and channeled, is gloriously fulfilled in the doctrines concerning Mary.  For Catholics and for many Eastern Orthodox, the most holy created being who ever lived is the Blessed Virgin Mary.  She was chosen by God to bear His Son, but she was not a passive vessel.  The Early Church Fathers of both the East and West rightly called her the new Eve as Christ is similarly called the new Adam.  Her YES to God’s plan in the prayer of the Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55) was described as the untying of the knot of disobedience that bound mankind.  Her cooperation with Divine Grace opened up the world to the Incarnation and to the possibility of Redemption.

This is only the beginning of the recognition that historical Christianity has for Our Lady:  She is the Theotokos, the God-Bearer, the Mother of God.  She is the Ark of the New Covenant who carried in her womb, the literal Word of God, the Bread of Life.  The original ark, though inanimate and perishable, and though carrying only inanimate and perishable things, was treated with enormous reverence, so much so that to touch upon it unworthily could lead to death.  How much more reverence then does the Church rightly show for the person Mary, made in God’s image and preordained to give birth to and to raise His Son.  And so there is an even better reason to suppose that those who are seeking a “heavenly mother” will find her more aptly in Our Lady:  Mary is the Mother of Christ.  We are members of the Body of Christ.  She has long held the title Mother of the Church.  Thus every Christian is invited by the Church to call on her as Mother.  In our First Saturday Devotions, we even refer to Our Lady specifically as “heavenly Mother” and offer reparations on behalf of those who would turn “children against Mary as their heavenly Mother.”  These teachings and this title long predate any Mormon doctrine of “Heavenly Mother.  (“All generations shall call me blessed,” Mary prophesies in verse 48 from the Magnificat, and so all generations of Catholics have done so, most often referring to her as the Blessed Virgin Mary.  Mary is blessed by God in a unique way, but to clarify, she is not a goddess.  Polytheism is completely alien to Judaism and to historical Christianity.)

Finally, Catholics and the Eastern Orthodox believe that Mary was taken to be with the Godhead at the end of her natural life and that she now reigns as the Queen of Heaven.  The Church Fathers from the beginning taught that Revelation 12:1-3 describes Mary.  She is the “woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet.”  It is true that Christ chose twelve men to represent the twelve tribes of Israel who were in turn aligned with the twelve male heirs of Jacob.  But in the end, in the final unveiling, these twelve are revealed as an adornment to Our Lady, “a crown of twelve stars on her head” which she wears along with the sun and moon.  Thus every humble priest ordained by a bishop who in turn received his authority from the Apostles through Succession gladly venerates the Blessed Virgin Mary who is also known to us as Queen of the Apostles.

Hail Mary, Full of Grace, the Lord is with thee.  Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.  Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of our death.  Amen.

  Photo Credit: Robert Wiener

  An Uneventful Apparition published first on http://ift.tt/2wQcX5G