#while also thinking about georgia and finding the alcohol bottles

[lyxchen]

Maxine is so adhd and it's actually painfully obvious to me, I love her so much!!!!

[queenshelby]

A NEW WORLD - PART ONE (UPDATED)

A Quiet Place 2 Fanfic

Pairing: Emmett (A Quiet Place 2) x Fem!Reader

Summary: This story will follow Emmett and the Reader before and after the invasion. Each Part will be about 1,000 to 2,000 words long and take place on a particular day (as listed on each part).

Warning: Mild Smut, Age Gap, Alcohol Abuse, Spoilers for AQP2

***

DAY: 41 DAYS BEFORE THE INVASION

It was a sunny Saturday evening and you were out watching the local baseball match. Your half brother Lucas was playing and, as usual, your mother was unable to take him to the game.

Ever since your step father had passed away two years ago, she became addicted to alcohol, drinking moonshine in the early hours of the morning.

Your younger sister quickly moved out when she turned 18 but you couldn’t leave your step brother behind. He was only 12 years old and too young to care for himself.

Most of your mother’s income support payments were spent on booze and you were fortunate enough that your stepfather’s life insurance payout covered the remainder of the mortgage on the house.

In order to buy food for yourself and your brother, you had to work hard. You’ve been attending an educational program in town to become a midwife and, at the age of 22, you almost completed your studies. Your goal was to move to Georgia with your brother and make a new life for yourself.

But little did you know that life had other plans in store for you, beginning on that particular day, at the baseball game.

***

‘Hey Y/N’ you heard from behind you and you quickly turned your head only to see your colleague’s husband Emmett sit there with his son Max, watching his other son Henry play alongside your brother Lucas.  

‘Oh god Emmett, what happened?’ you asked as you saw his hand covered in bandages.

‘This? It’s nothing. Just a hunting accident’ Emmett explained and you recalled Nora telling you that he had been away for several days with two of his friends causing a major fight between Nora and him.

You haven’t seen Nora since and what she didn’t tell you that day was that, following the fight, she decided to take a break from their marriage.

Nora was your supervisor at the hospital where you were doing your work experience hours and she was rather difficult to deal with whenever she and her husband had a fight. She loved him and he loved her, but in recent months their marriage was going through some ups and downs and you could see that she was obviously needing some time to revaluate matters.

‘Did Nora take a look at it. The bandage needs to be changed. It doesn’t look right Emmett’ you said concerned as you took his hand into yours, evaluating his injury. You had done about three units of nursing before changing over to midwifery in your course.

‘Nora is out of town, visiting her sister’ he explained and you couldn’t help but give Emmett a sorry look. They were fighting again you thought and it had become a frequent occurrence.

‘Perhaps when she comes back, I should look after Henry and Max again for you guys and you can take her out on a date or something’ you suggested. You frequently babysat for Nora and Emmett to make some extra money.

‘The truth is that we are taking a break for now. But, if things change, I would gladly accept your offer’ Emmett smiled and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. In your opinion he was a nice and incredibly attractive man. He was also a fantastic father to Max and this was something you picked up on immediately when you first met him several years ago through Evelyn and Lee whose children you also frequently babysat.

You also knew that Nora and him had met over twenty years ago. They were high school sweethearts. Everyone saw them both as the perfect couple but their relationship was far from being perfect.

Just over a year ago you heard rumours that, about two years ago, Nora had a short-lived affair but Emmett forgave her. He was a family man and valued his marriage. His sons were everything to him and leaving them would never have been option for Emmett.

He was incredible and you found it difficult to admit to yourself that, over the past two years, you were developing a little a crush on him.

***

About an hour later, the game had finished and you suggested to Emmett that he comes to your house so that you could have a look at his hand.

Your house was a short five-minute walk from the baseball field and Emmett agreed reluctantly after you told him that your mother wasn’t home.

He knew what state your mother was in and he would not have exposed his sons to her constant swearing and antics when she was drunk.

When you arrived at your house, Emmett’s sons and your brother went to play outside in the garden with your brother’s new soccer ball which you had bought him for his birthday while you looked through the medicine cabinet to find some more bandages and some betadine.

‘Have you considered admitting her to rehab?’ Emmett asked as he sat down at the kitchen table, besides which was a large plastic box with several empty bottles of spirits.

‘That’s the plan. I want to take Lucas to Georgia as soon as she is in rehab’ you explained as you carefully removed Emmett’s bandage.

‘This will hurt’ you then went on to say before cleaning his wound and applying some betadine.

‘Fuck’ he complained as you were rinsing out the wound and, after you were finally done cleaning it, you placed a fresh bandage over his hand.

‘You need to keep this clean alright?’ you said with your hands still holding on to his hand while you looked at him with a warm smile.

This was the first time you noticed how blue his eyes were, a shade of deep shimmering blue just as the sea and just as the depth of the ocean, you could get lost in them.

‘Thanks’ he nodded, not bothering to pull his hand away from you as you were staring at him.

‘Nora is one lucky woman’ you sighed as you finally collected your thoughts and let go of his hand.

‘Why? Because she finally is getting rid of me?’ Emmett laughed but knowing exactly what you meant.

‘No that’s not what I meant Emmett. In fact, I think she is crazy thinking about leaving a man like you’ you said shyly and with flushed cheeks as you looked down at his hand once again.

‘Right’ Emmett chuckled and, just as he did, you moved one of your hands over his cheeks.

‘Don’t doubt yourself Emmett’ you said before, slowly and tentatively pressing your lips onto his.

He didn’t retract, nor did he pull away as, for a short moment, he allowed the kiss. Your lips were soft and sweet and he couldn’t recall the last time another woman had kissed him.

Eventually, you broke the kiss at your own accord and Emmett looked at you as if he had seen a ghost. He was surprised by your actions and his eyes were full of questions.

‘I am so sorry’ you then shuddered while Emmett was still speechless.

‘I should go now’ he quickly said, unable to even look at you after what had just happened.

‘Emmett?’ you said as he got up from the chair next to yours. ‘I am sorry, really…I shouldn’t have’ you said somewhat flustered.

‘Y/N, it’s fine. Let’s just forget about it, aright?’ he smiled as he ran his hand over your shoulder in the way a friend would.

You nodded just before he left but the truth was that you couldn’t forget about it. This kiss stayed with you for the rest of the day.

***

Just as the evening had arrived and you were sitting in your bed, reading yet another novel you had borrowed from the library, you imagined yourself with Emmett.

This wasn’t right, you thought. You should not be thinking about him the way you did. He was a man twice your age. But you couldn’t help it and your imagination was running wild.

His lips were on yours, his fingers roaming over your body and you simply couldn’t go to sleep that night until you satisfied your needs with the small vibrator you kept in your beside table.

‘God damn Y/N’ your inner voice tried to reason. But you wouldn’t listen to it until you found your release that night which is when, finally, you drifted off to sleep.

 Tag List (Cillian):

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[honeysidesarchived]

× hereditary // herald elliot honeysett-seed

prompt: ❛ i’ll never be that me again. ❜ + herald elliot requested by @shallow-gravy taken from this list! thanks baby ilusm xo set briefly before the reaping but i will not be taking questions about the timeline, thx

words: 2.3k

rating: m, bordering on e for explicit violent daydreams (lol)

warnings: mentions of past trauma, fantasizing about acts of violence and bodily harm, mentions of blood & neglectful/abusive parent-child relationships, some active dissociation, all of this is explored in a very public grilling in the middle of the spread eagle. john is doing doomsday prep with the locals while his wife gets harassed by a hot cop. no proofreading we die like men

notes: i feel like i haven't actually written something in a thousand years, and then jess sent me this prompt after i was wallowing about how much i miss burke and it just fell out of me. missing ell hope she's doing ok ! also burke haters dni i'm allowed to be mean to him bc i love him.

“I know you.”

Click-click. It’s like the cocking of a gun, the way U.S. Federal Marshal Cameron Burke strides across the Spread Eagle, the way he says the words. I know you, just like that afternoon she’d been sitting in her car, watching them wander across the street in their little three-man pack, greeting her with a drawled-out Mrs. Seed.

But he wields it like a weapon: I know you, he says, closing the distance between them as she looks up from where she’s tapping out the end of her cigarette into an ashtray, leaned against the bar. It’s sticky-hot in the room, the ticking of a fan whirring somewhere in the corner, collecting sweat in the dips of her collarbones and beneath the hair at the back of her neck, slung lazily into a ponytail.

And here comes Cameron Burke, swinging his proverbial fucking big-boy-gun, folder clutched in his hand.

Behind the bar, Mary May sets the glass she’s been cleaning down. Her patience when Elliot and John are in the bar is tenuous at best, rapidly thinning at worst; and given that John hasn’t shut the fuck up for the last hour, it’s probably at worst.

“Marshal,” she says, “you think you could take whatever...” Mary May gestures with a hand vaguely. “...this is somewhere else? I’ve already been havin’ to deal with—”

But Burke isn’t listening. He slaps the folder on the top of the bar next to Elliot, and somewhere across the room she can hear John prattling on about this Sunday’s service, you’re not going to want to miss it, this I guarantee, and Burke plants his index finger on the folder in a point.

“I know you,” he says, “Elliot Savannah Honeysett.”

Elliot takes a drag of her cigarette. It’s too hot to be smoking, and Mary May has made more than one passive-aggressive comment about smoking indoors, but the bite and burn of a cigarette is one of the only things that keeps her attention here, keeps her mind from drifting far away from her body to be somewhere else.

The folder sits, a vanilla-gold beacon. It’s thick. She doesn’t like how thick it is.

“You ever heard of Google, Marshal?” she drawls, tapping the ash from her cigarette again and looking back at the variety of alcohol bottles behind the bar. “You and every dumbass in this town could find out my legal name. Doesn’t take a government database, and it certainly only takes about half a brain cell.” She waves her hand. “Go ahead though, I’d like to hear your little presentation.”

The Marshal flips the folder open, plunging on, like what she’s said doesn’t even matter to him. Maybe it doesn’t. “Born here, but your mama’s from Georgia. Daddy too, huh? Italian, English—originally Catholic growing up, I’d guess, given that your mama must’ve had to drive you four hours to find the nearest Catholic church in Georgia.”

He turns the page. He doesn’t bother leaving it in the folder; it slips to the floor with a whisper, drawing eyes. Why would he? He has the information in his head already, has the half-deranged look of a man gone on less hours of sleep than he ought to, maybe spent forever clicking and searching and double-checking and referencing, by the size of this fucking file.

Elliot looks at the paper on the floor. There’s a photo of a girl, barely scraping nineteen years old, and it almost startles her when she realizes that it’s her in the photo. Smiling into the camera.

When did she forget what she looked like?

“Mama comes from old Southern money, that your granddaddy made racing horses,” Burke continues, and he’s rattling off information that she thinks isn’t particularly notable—it’s all stuff that’s public record. Everyone knows her granddaddy raced horses and made a metric-fuck-ton of money from it. Everyone knows her mama’s rich. Everyone knows her daddy’s on and off the face of the earth. Everyone knows—

And then Burke says, “You know a man by the name of Henry Dawson, Mrs. Seed?”

Her instinct is to say no, because she doesn’t know Henry Dawson. She’s never met a Henry Dawson. She imagines she never will. But she doesn’t say anything, just stares at Burke, and he picks the paper up from the file—crumples the corner of it in his grip—and holds up an inch from her face.

The face in the picture is soaking wet, hair plastered to the sides of his head. Teeth are missing from his mouth. His face is swollen, purpled, the violent flash of crime scene camera casting gaunt, eerie shadows across the shape of his cheeks and mouth, both eyes swollen shut. As though he would open them, now.

Henry Dawson is a dead man.

She knows a man by the name of Henry Dawson.

Elliot lifts her eyes from the picture to Burke’s triumphant face behind it.

“No,” she replies flatly.

“No,” Burke agrees, “I imagine you wouldn’t, being as you weren’t probably quite six when you saw him last.”

Saw him last, saw him last, the last person to see him—Burke’s words rattle in her head, vibrating in the backs of her molars, reminding her of her daddy’s hands, sticky-wet with blood, gripping her face, you know what you’ve gotta do with a sick dog, Elli, and her daddy’s hands, sticky-wet with blood, gripping her shoulders, he was going to try and take you away from me. The sound of cicadas buzzing in her ears, and the heavy, wet collision of a body against water.

You wanna help daddy?

Elliot doesn’t take her gaze from Burke’s as he slaps the paper down and pulls up the next one.

“Mason Cooley,” Burke says. “You recognize him?”

She does. His face, though in yet another array of violent repose as it's littered with bruises and cuts and a split across his forehead she remembers with a tingling at her hairline, elicits in her a flurry of emotions she thought she had desensitized herself to; rage, mostly. But there’s fear in there, too, swirling around inside of her. Stop crying, Ell-baby, what’re you fucking crying for, and the thick, sticky taste of copper in her mouth chief among the images procured at the sight of Mason’s face.

“We dated,” she replies flintily. She’s steeling herself, but she can feel it whittling away—she’s not like Jacob, unflinching and resolute, steadfast. She’s not like Joseph or Faith. She’s not even like John. She’s never pretended to be anything except what she is; an open wound, a knife, anger wadding up and infecting every inch of her, cut-it-off-at-the-source-and-maybe-you-can-save-the-limb type of sickness.

Where is John? What the fuck is John doing? She doesn’t want to cast a glance around the bar, because Cameron Burke is waiting for her to flash her jugular just for him to get his teeth into, and Mary May is trying to act like she’s not interested in what’s going on, and her cigarette is burning out.

Burke doesn’t grin, but he does do something funny with his face—like a grimace. Baring his teeth. “That’s funny.”

“I suppose,” Elliot says, taking another drag, “if you think datin’s funny, Marshal.”

The paper gets slapped on the bar top. Another is lifted, put in her face. It’s her father’s mug shot—one of, what she assumes, many—his lip split and the black eyes purpling. There’s blood smeared on his face. He looks pleased.

“This one you ought to know,” Burke says.

“I’d imagine it’s normal to recognize my own fucking father,” Elliot snaps at him. Mason’s face is looming in the corner of her vision, and where the fuck is John? “I would’ve preferred a PowerPoint, you know—”

Thunk. Paper down. Yet another picked up. “You know her?”

It’s that girl again. Scraping nineteen. Barely cutting her teeth. Her lip is split, and there are two black eyes forming, and blood smeared down the side of her face. It feels weird, looking at that girl in the mug shot, knowing in her head rationally that it’s her and also not recognizing a single feature of her face—the nose, the lips, the eyes; not even the color of her hair or the way her bruises are purpling, a thing so intrinsic to her own body, cells blooming beneath the surface of her skin, is familiar to her.

Her stomach wrenches.

When did I forget what I looked like?

“Like father like daughter,” Burke says, and she—

( wrenches his hands out of her face and shoves the burnt end of her cigarette into his eye and makes him squeal, slams his stupid fucking face into the bar top again and again and again just the same way her daddy slammed his fists into henry dawson’s face again and again and again and she’ll do it until his nose is caved in and there’s blood pooling on the floor and he’ll slip in it on his way to hit the ground and john will probably tell mary may he’ll pay to clean it up (can’t have the locals fucking with us now, baby!) and she’ll drive the heel of her boot into his face again and again and again and agai— )

“Are you harassing my wife, Marshal?”

John’s voice is what draws her out of the daydream, the bloody fantasy so real that she can feel the slick of his blood between her fingers even now; his hand comes down on her shoulder. It’s protective, and instantly she thinks that John is worried—not about her well-being, but worried that she’ll do something that’ll undo all of his hard work, so close to the time that matters the most, now that the Marshal is here and they know that the sheriff’s department is getting ready to mobilize.

“Be interested to hear if that’s what she thinks is going on here,” Burke replies. He almost sounds sly. “Nice picture of your wife, don’t you think, Seed? Even all busted up, you can see that it’s Elliot. Was this after Mr. Cooley, you think?”

Elliot can feel John gearing up to say something, the way he takes in a breath and drops his shoulders and grins from ear to ear in that shit-eating way that is sure to rile the Marshal more, but before he can say anything she rips the photo from Burke’s hand, slams it on the bartop, and burns the end of her cigarette into it. Crushing it, grinding the ash into the photo grain.

It was after Mason; he’s right about that. The exact moment that photo was taken is burned into her fucking brain. Everything had hurt. Everything had been too bright. But even in the photo, it’s not hard to tell that she is somewhere else—somewhere far away, somewhere the splitting pain and burning hatred can’t quite reach her.

She can see Burke’s jaw tightening, like he thinks he’s won.

Maybe he has.

The Elliot-not-Elliot in the picture has eyes blacked out with cigarette burns, and it feels more than ever like she can see herself in it, that it's finally familiar.

“That girl might have my name and my face,” Elliot says, “but I’ll never be that me again.”

She sets the photo back in the folder, picks it up, and pushes it into the Marshal’s chest. Briefly, the idea of digging her fingers into his throat and shaking him like a beetle in a jar overwhelms her; long enough that her hand stays pressed against the folder, pressed against his chest, and she feels the click-click of that proverbial gun, metal clockwork the Marshal wants to fire more than anything.

Elliot knows what’s going to happen. At least, she knows what Joseph has told them what will happen. She hopes, at the very least, she gets the chance to kill Cameron Burke before the nuclear war takes him.

“I told you,” he grinds out between his teeth, “I fuckin’ know you.”

I can't wait to fucking kill you.

“This was fun,” is what comes out of her mouth, hand dropping from the folder. “Have a good night, baby.”

John is only one step behind her. Vaguely, she’s aware of him talking—saying something to her, asking her what it was Burke was telling to her, no doubt; not like it matters, he’ll be dead within days anyway—and it’s not until she hits the outside and John’s hand finds hers that she feels even remotely like she’s in control of her body again.

Henry Dawson. She’d never known his name, only known his corpse. A name doesn’t matter when someone is dead, anyway.

Fingers interlace with hers. John brings her hand up to the side of his neck, where she can feel the beat of his heart; higher than normal, but steady, and it makes her realize that hers is hitting her ribs like a battering ram driven by drunks, uneven and stuttering painfully. He keeps her hand there, and the night is cooler outside than it is inside the bar, and John kisses her and says something against her mouth that she thinks is tell me what you need, Ell, you just need to say.

“John,” she says, stilling the affectionate movements, “I want him.”

He pulls back to look at her, brows knitting together.

“When it’s time,” Elliot reiterates, “when they come—he doesn’t go to Faith, or Jacob. He comes to us.”

John’s thumb brushes her knuckles, sweeping once, twice, a third time. He nods, and says, “I’ll try, when Joseph asks, to—”

“You don’t try.” She pulls her hand from his neck, from the warmth. “You tell.”

“Elliot—”

Gravel crunches under her feet as she makes her way to the car, pulling her keys out from her pocket and then the carton of cigarettes. She’d wasted the last of her cigarette on that stupid fucking photo of the person-she-was-used-to-be-is-no-longer, and for that, she deserves another.

Quietly, as John’s footsteps eventually fall in on the other side of the car, Elliot hopes Joseph doesn’t kick up a fight. She wants to take care of Cameron Burke herself—put the sick dog down, as it were.

Like father, like daughter.

[inglourious-imagines]

The Only One (Lewis Nixon)

Requested by: @dontfearthereaper-09

Summary: You're Colonel Sink's granddaughter and you're helping out with paperwork - you eventually fall in love with Lewis Nixon and start dating. However, every relationship has its ups and downs.

Prompt: a requested one - I wish I'd never met you.

Author's Note: I struggled so hard with this and I'm not proud of it at all, but hope it is what you wanted. A big thank you goes to for @alienoresimagines and her great help as always!

Taglist: @alienoresimagines @teenmagazines @meteora-fc @eugenesmorphine @band-of-brothers-cz @real-fans  @not-john-watsons-blog @tealaquinn @ok-roemanov @mrseasycompany @punkgeekchic @wexhappyxfew @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @rayofshanshine @mavysnavy @easynix @stressedinadress @georgeluzwarmhugs @easy-company-tradition @immrsronaldspeirs @snafus-peckuh @curraheewestandalone @warrior-healer @justamadgirlinabox @happyveday

.

.

.

"He felt now that he was not simply close to her, but that he did not know where he ended and she began." - Anna Karenina, L. Tolstoj

Y/N had never in her life shooted from a rifle or even held it in her innocent hands. She had never known combat, real combat, where men kill and die. She had never endured real physical pain.

And still, Y/N was standing in the middle of Camp Toccoa during the hot summer days of 1942 with a huge grin on her face. She finally persuaded her grandfather to let her join the paratroopers. Well, she was there to help out with paperwork mainly, to be there at hand for the intelligence officers, but she also managed to pull a few strings so she will be undergoing the combat training like every other soldier even though she's not allowed to go and fight in France.

The first weeks were exhausting - physically and mentally - with the combat training Y/N volunteered for. She constantly felt like she's at the verge of giving up and going home. 

But Y/N didn't and neither will she. Even though it was the hardest thing she'd ever done in her life, it seemed right. This is where Y/N Sink belonged.

But thank God it wasn't just exercise, work and signing documents. One evening, when everything was finished for the day, her grandfather Sink took her with him to a certain celebration, more like an occasion to get drunk and forget that a war is going on just across an ocean. 

It was certainly the most eventful night during her stay in Camp Toccoa, Georgia. Y/N lost her grandfather nearly 10 minutes after they walked in the pub. She immediately befriended two guys - George Luz and Joe Liebgott. It seemed like they'd known each other for years. The soldiers heard all about the mysterious woman that had been helping out in their training camp weeks ago now but never really got the chance to talk to her.

George introduced her to the rest of his friends within Easy Company and they spend the night together laughing, downing shots one after another, dancing and joking around. Y/N felt relaxed and genuiely unworried that night so when they were told to break it up and get some sleep for tomorrow, it suddenly saddened her. The Easy Company boys were the most welcoming, kind and funny men Y/N'd met during her stay and she was sure that she's not gonna have a chance to talk to them like that night for a long time.

There was a soldier waiting for her outside of the pub to escort her into her room but Y/N kindly told him to fuck off and he made sure to be quickly on his way. 

So there she was again, standing under the starry night in Georgia, a warm summer breeze dancing through her hair while she struggled a bit to remain on her feet due to all the alcohol flowing in her veins. 

"Have a trouble finding your way, Miss Sink?" a deep voice filled her ears and Y/N jumped a bit on her spot as she didn't see him coming from behind.

"I'm perfectly fine, soldier." she tried to answer with a firm steady voice but a quiet giggle escaped her lips.

"I can see that. Let me help you there, Miss." he offered his help kindly, smirking. The Moon was illuminating his face making his hair appear darker than the night itself and his eyes shined like two stars up at the sky.

"I assure you, Mr Nixon, that I have no trouble at all. I can manage myself." Y/N stood behind her words but a part of her desired his gentle hand on her lower back steadying her. 

"I'm surprised you know my name." Nix laughed raising his eyebrows as he took a few steps closer to her.

"And I'm surprised it was just a can of peaches." Y/N replied boldly looking directly into his dark eyes.

They were covered in silence for a few moments but they burst out laughing in the next second earning some "shut the fuck ups" from the nearest barracks.

The duo spent the rest of the night walking around the camp as they eventually ended up in her room talking about nothing and everything. By the next morning, Y/N knew every little thing about Lewis and he knew every little thing about her. 

It was no surprise, to Easy Company boys or even his grandfather, that the two of them started dating just a couple of days after the party. Richard Winters soon payed Y/N a visit informing her how he's never seen Lew so damn happy and cheerful all the time.

•••

At the end of May, 1944 when all the preparations for D-Day were finishing, another party was thrown in honor of the paratroopers that had earned their jump wings. Y/N persaued Sink to take her to Britain with him so she was able to celebrate with all of them. 

She was a bit tipsy already because George Luz made her drink three beers and the forth was already on its way. 

Lewis Nixon glared at the duo with a bottle of whiskey in his right hand and a cigarette in the left. He watched how Y/N's lips curled into the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen at something George whispered in her ear. She burst out in a hearty laugh as she touched Luz's shoulder gently and this simple action reminded Lewis the night they met for the first time. An uneasy feeling burned through his chest - it suddenly became hard to breathe. Nixon clenched the glass in his hands and he'd have break it eventually if Richard didn't shake with Lew's shoulder.

"Not now, Dick," the intellingent officer snapped immediately, "we'll talk tomorrow. I'm heading back to my room."

And with that, he stood up and walked out of the pub without any other glance toward his girlfriend. The bottle of Vat '69 was left on the table half full.

•••

"Baby? Why did you disappear so quickly?" Y/N barged in his room while he was sitting behind his desk looking out of the window absently. 

"You seemed quite happy with George." Nixon murmured quietly, he didn't even bother to turn and face her.

"What is this all about? Is there a problem?" she asked kindly moving closer to her broken soldier. The sweet tone of her voice was making it even harder than it already was.

Lewis Nixon looked at her for the first time. "I think we shouldn't be seeing each other anymore." He sounded decided, strongly convinced in his statement.

Y/N suspiciously eyed his face whereas Lewis tried to avoid her concerned look. "Is this about George?"

"No, it's not about fucking George!" Lewis raised his voice and stood up from the little chair, "you are better without me, okay? I drag you down, Y/N."

She stared at him in disbelief. "What the hell are you talking about? I love you and only you, damn it!"

"You just think you do!"

Y/N's eyes began to water and when the first hot tear rolled down her cheek Nixon's heart broke into million pieces. He hated himself for hurting the most precious human being on the Earth but he had to do it. There was no other way.

"I wish you trusted me more, Lew." she breathed out reaching out to caress his cheek but changed her mind in the last second and her hand fell to her body.

Lewis pressed his eyelids tightly together forcing the coming tears stay inside of his soul. "I wish I'd never met you."

•••

The next days hit Y/N harder than her first days at Toccoa. No combat training, no amount of paperwork had ever made her feel so broken, tired and demotivated. As weird as it sounds, even after the relatively short relationship with the Easy Company intelligence officer, Lewis was a big important part of her life. He made her feel so many new emotions, he fulfilled her soul and heart like nobody else did.

And now, it was all gone.

Everyone noticed the sudden cold behaviour between Y/N and Lewis but they didn't really know what happened. Y/N brushed it off every single time when someone asked her and no one really dared to approach Nixon. 

It wasn't like the duo stopped communicating absolutely. Lewis after the argument stormed off and got drunk, he was genuiely wasted, but he also realised what a mistake he did. It was the first time Y/N told him she loved him and he was still able to make the person who cared for him the most go away.

When Y/N tried her best to avoid Nixon, he tried his best to talk to her as much as possible, every day he left her a note at her desk along with a flower and every time she accidentally glanced at him he sent her an apologetic smile.

Y/N knew her anger and hurt was slowly fading away. Lewis felt truly sorry - alcohol and jealousy wasn't really a great combination.

•••

My dearest Y/N,

I know you don't want to have anything to do with me, and I don't blame you, but there's still something I need to tell you. I'm just gonna hope that this sort of letter is not lying in the bin already.

I want you to know that I regret every single word I said that night. Clearly my jealousy and my alcoholic problem (as much as you hate me right now, please don't tell anyone I just admitted that) came in the way and I thought you're better off without me.

I'm not the perfect boyfriend, Y/N, and I never will be. I'm not funny as George, and I guarantee you there's gonna be more arguments between us. But I can assure you that no matter what happens, I will love you for the rest of my life. 

Hope you can forgive me,

I'm sorry.

With love, your Lewis

A tear soaked into the piece of paper as she pressed it to her heart. Little did Y/N know that she will love the idiot forever.

[baseballbitch116]

Your Walking Dead - Daryl Dixon Interactive Love Story

A/N: The way this is designed is so that YOU get to choose how you would like to proceed through the story. At the end of every chapter, there will be 2 options. There will be different consequences to your choices! Every choice you make will change the outcome of the story. No two choices will provide the same outcome! YOU can determine who survives, where you go, and overall how your interactions with Daryl will go!

Introduction: Follow along on your journey with Daryl and the others throughout the series... You choose your actions... Will you end up with Daryl? YOU have the power to decide that!

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader

Setting: We begin in the Atlanta camp, before Rick has joined.

Word Count: 1420

Series Warnings: Gore, violence, strong language, potentially triggering content, sexual themes, death, mentions of drug/alcohol consumption and abuse...

Chapter Warnings: Brief mentions of violence, strong language

Masterlist

Send Me A Request! | Series Masterlist

[This idea was inspired by @twdeadfanfic, who is creating her own series with a similar concept!]

Without further ado... Let’s get into it!

To say that you had run from Atlanta would not be an exaggeration by any means. You quite literally ran through the streets of the once thriving city as the dead took over. Nothing could have prepared you for this. You had no survival skills whatsoever. You couldn’t hunt, fire a gun, build a fire... Fears overwhelmed your mind as you ran through the streets, dodging the dead as they tried grabbing you at every opportunity. You had nothing but a backpack of limited essentials.

Someone had broken into your apartment in an attempt to escape the dead chasing them, in turn allowing the flesh-hungry dead to get inside and force you out. You probably would have died if you hadn’t met Shane and Lori along the highway. You had no weapons, having lost your steak knife in the arm of one of the dead back in the city. Wandering down the stand still traffic on the highway, you were desperate. Lori spotting you as you stumbled down the road, dehydrated, out of breath and limping. You owed her your life for offering you a bottle of water that day a few weeks ago.

You are drawn from your thoughts by the sound of someone approaching. Glancing up from where you sat on the RV’s stairs, you shoot a weak smile at Dale. “Are you alright, Y/N?” The older man asks as you stand to move out of his way.

“Just thinking about... Everything.” You respond. Dale nods as he studies your face. You’ve had some conversations with the older man before about these sort of things - what the future might look like, what could be happening in other area of the world...

“Best not to dwell on it too much, I think.” He says, patting your shoulder as he passes you and enters the RV. You couldn’t help but feel like you weren’t pulling your weight around the camp, though. As you looked around, you saw most people doing one thing or another. Lori and Carol were washing clothes, Shane was cleaning his shotgun, Glenn was on watch for walkers on top the RV. You knew that if it weren’t for some of the others in the camp, you would not have food or a fire or weapons.

Deciding that you needed to find a way to earn your keep, you head over to Lori and Carol in order to help them with the laundry. It certainly wasn’t a task that you desired, and you found it slightly belittling that only the mothers in the camp washed clothes - but you needed something to do.

Striking up light conversation with the two older women, you got to work on hanging the damp clothes up to dry. You had grown close to Lori since she let you tag along with them out of Atlanta - feeling that you owed her and Shane. Who knows what would have happened if you hadn’t met them...

You felt a pair of eyes on you as you worked, making you glance around your surroundings in search of whoever was alarming your senses. A scoff escapes your lips when you spot Merle Dixon’s eyes on you from the door of the RV. The older man had been hitting on you from the moment you met him a few weeks back. He had to be at least twenty years older than you, but that didn’t seem to bother him as he continuously made passes at you.

You suddenly felt self conscious in your black leggings and tank top. The Georgia sun beat down on your skin relentlessly from sunrise to sundown, making most of you try to dress lightly around the camp to avoid overheating. You roll your eyes and huff, redirecting your attention to the conversation Carol and Lori were having. “What is it?” Lori asks when she spots your sour attitude.

“Just Merle ogling over there again.” You mutter to her, tilting your head in his direction lightly as you throw another shirt up on the clothes line. The two women shake their head in annoyance and mumble about how gross he is. You heard a rough male voice call out Merle’s name, regaining your attention from the women again. Your eyes landed on his brother approaching from his tent - Daryl.

You had not spoken to the archer more than once, finding him rather standoffish and hard to approach. He was good looking, that you could not deny. He was about the same height as his older brother, tan and well built. You admired his physique as he threw his crossbow over his shoulder. His muscular arms were bare and dirt stained under his green muscle shirt. His short shaggy brown hair contrasted nicely with his blue eyes. Daryl had by far interacted with you the least of any one else in the camp. He seemed to have little interest in being around anyone other than his asshole brother.

You had also taken notice of how minimally affected he seemed to the current state of the world. He built fires, hunted, tracked, and killed walkers as if he had been doing it his whole life. You couldn’t help but wonder what his life was like just a few weeks ago. What did he do for a living? What was he like under all that hard exterior?

Merle’s gaze landing on you once again made you quickly avert your eyes back to the women, hoping he had not seen you looking their direction. Both the Dixon brothers intimated you, for sure - but you for Merle revolting while Daryl intriguing.

You were only a handful of yards away from the brothers, easily able to hear their loud, raspy voices from where you stood if you blocked out Lori and Carol’s chit chat. “Ima go hunt. Found some deer tracks earlier.” A voice that you determine to be Daryl’s based on his comments, announces to his brother. Merle didn’t do much of anything around the camp, whereas Daryl always seemed to be preoccupied with one task or another.

You continue hanging the clothes that Carol hands you distractedly, eavesdropping on the brothers.

“Ain’t got nothin better ta do than chase rabbits around the woods, little brother?” Merle drawls with a scoff. You roll your eyes at his comments, wondering what he has to do other than ogle you and cause trouble around the camp.

“Like sit on my ass all day?” Daryl retaliates, his comment reflecting your own thoughts. A smirk tugs at your lips as you continue.

You glance up when Daryl walks past you guys, crossbow over his shoulder and large knife attached to his belt buckle. You briefly meet his eye, neither of you saying a word as he continued past you toward the woods. You dropped your gaze back to the clothes basket, mentally scolding yourself for being so interested in the man. He didn’t even acknowledge you, you shouldn’t be wasting time thinking about him.

The morning drug on slowly, like most others. This new life was very boring, you could only imagine how the kids were feeling. You missed your phone, the internet, television... As stupid and privileged as it sounded, you couldn’t help but feel like time slowed down and you had nothing better to do than wash clothes or gather firewood.

You had gone inside the RV for about fifteen minutes to cool down from the intense sun, the sweat from the sweltering heat trickling down your skin. You hated feeling sweaty - you felt gross. Stripping out of your leggings that were sticking to your skin, you tossed them into the clothes basket in the corner and throw on your denim capri pants in place of discarded item. You missed your shower - a pond or quarry would never replace a relaxing shower with actual soap and hot water.

When you heard numerous voices nearby the RV, you decided to get up and head back out - seeing what was going on. Slowly exiting the vehicle, you take notice of numerous people standing around one of the cars. “What’s going on?” You ask Glenn as he passes you. “Going on a run. Wanna come?” He asks, stopping and turning to look at you.

You had never gone with them on a run before, what exactly do you do? Would you just get in the way? But then again, you’ve been wanting to find a way to pull your weight...

What should you do? Choose your path!

Go on the run | Stay at camp

~~~~~~~~~~~

And that is the introduction!! The two links above are different parts that will change how you proceed in the story and you will see how just one little choice will drastically change the events that follow! A simple decision like going on a run or not... Is going to set the foundation of this story and all of the choices you are going to need to make following it!

Please leave me some feedback on what you thought of this first part and let me know in the comments which option you chose!! I’m looking forward to seeing everyone’s reactions to this series!!! ♥

If you want to know when this series has been updated, feel free to turn on my notifications and ask to be added to my taglist! ♥

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[bittysvalentines]

Careful Fear and Dead Devotion

To: @happyzimm

From: @doggernaut /RabbitRunnah

Rating: T, for mentions of alcohol.

Relationship: Jack Zimmermann/Eric Bittle

Characters: Jack Zimmermann, Eric Bittle, Bad Bob Zimmermann, Kent Parson, original child character

Tags: Jack Zimmermann, Zimbits, Jack Zimmermann character study

Happy Valentine’s Day, @happyzimm! I hope you enjoy this little Jack Zimmermann character study. I tried to incorporate some of the other things you asked for as well.

i.

Jack Zimmermann is five years old, and his feet don’t touch the ground.

He’s sitting in a hard, plastic chair at a table for two while Papa waits in line to order doughnuts. There are two Papas in this doughnut shop — the one standing in line, and the one on the poster behind the counter.

The Papa in line is wearing his home clothes: jeans, a t-shirt, running shoes. The Papa on the wall is wearing work clothes — his Pens jersey but not his helmet — and holding a doughnut decorated with black and yellow sprinkles.

Even though the real Papa’s back is turned to him, it feels like he’s watching Jack.

When Maman takes him to get doughnuts after his swim lesson she always takes him to the shop across the street from the rec center, the one with yellow tables and the smiling man behind the counter who always hands Jack his chocolate old-fashioned doughnut and cinnamon sugar doughnut hole before he orders. The one that does not have a picture of Papa on the wall.

But Maman is working in California — Jack has never been to California, but he knows it’s a place people go to work, because Papa goes there too — so Papa had to take Jack to his swim lesson today. Papa doesn’t know Maman always takes Jack to the other doughnut shop, and when he told Papa this is the wrong one it was too late. They were already here.

The boy behind the counter is much younger than the man who works at the other doughnut shop. He must be friends with Papa because he greets him by name and talks to him longer than he talked to the other people in line. Papa knows a lot of people.

“Told you that wouldn’t take long, Jacky.” Papa sets a sprinkle doughnut with white icing on a paper napkin in front of Jack and opens his chocolate milk for him.

Jack frowns and picks at the black and yellow sprinkles on the doughnut. He doesn’t like the colors, or the way they feel in his teeth when he chews them.

“What’s wrong?” Papa asks. “Not hungry?”

Jack is hungry. He’s always hungry after his swim lesson. He picks off a teeny tiny piece of doughnut — a part that isn’t touching white icing or colored sprinkles — and sticks it in his mouth. He eats the entire cake part of the doughnut this way while Papa eats his maple bar and an apple fritter. When he’s finished, all that’s left is a ring of sticky icing and sprinkles.

“All finished?” Papa asks when he notices Jack is no longer eating. “Do you want another?”

Jack thinks. It would be rude to ask for another doughnut, but Papa is offering. “Can I have chocolate?” he asks.

“Hey, Paulie!” Papa’s voice is loud in the mostly-empty shop as he waves to get the attention of the guy behind the counter. “Can I get a chocolate doughnut for my boy?”

Paulie comes around to their table and hands the doughnut to Jack. Jack whispers a “thank you” as Papa hands Paulie some money and tells him to “keep the change.” He winks and smiles, and it’s the same smile as the Papa on the poster behind the counter.

Jack takes a bite of the new doughnut and chews. The chocolate is rich and sweet. He takes another bite and swings his legs as Papa smiles at him.

ii.

Jack is 18, and he is so close to having it all.

“Drink up!”

The bottle Kent presses into Jack’s hand is cold and smooth except for the label, damp and wrinkled from condensation. Jack doesn’t like these parties and he doesn’t like the taste of alcohol. It burns on the way down and tastes like spite, a bitter, caustic thing that burns inside of him whenever Papa offhandedly remarks that Kent just might go first. Jack doesn’t like the way that feels, or the way he feels for feeling that way. But he likes the way he feels after a few beers, the way it makes him loose and brave. Kent says it makes him more fun. So Jack takes a pull of his beer and grimaces, quickly twisting his mouth into a smile when he catches Kent glancing his way.

One beer makes Jack loose enough that his smile comes more easily.

Two beers and the world starts to shimmer around the edges, suffusing everything with a nice haze that makes him feel buoyant and bold. When he’s on the ice he feels loose and free, not heavy and grounded the way he feels as soon as he removes his skates. On the ice he does the right things and the words come easily; people smile and cheer his name. Two beers in and Jack feels closer to the way he feels on the ice, his ever-present anxiety and self-consciousness fading into something palatable.

Three beers is the magic number. He can laugh at jokes made at his expense about that shot he missed and flirt with the girls who somehow always know where the team is partying. With three beers in him, Jack’s hand can find Kent’s in the dark and he doesn’t worry that he’s not really this brave. He doesn’t worry about any of it.

“Zimms! There’s girls here!” Rusty, yelling from the other side of the room, is anything but subtle. Though these girls, with their loud, exaggerated laughter, don’t seem like they value subtlety anyway. One of them catches his eye, a small blonde who doesn’t look away when Jack catches her staring.

Jack runs his thumb back and forth over the smooth label, wearing away a patch in the center. Bits of paper bead up and cling to it, turn gritty under his thumb. When he tries to brush them away they just stick to him.

“Awww, is Zimms gonna score again? Score on the ice, score off the ice, is that how it works?”

“Shut up.” Jack elbows Kent.

“Make me.”

Jack swallows hard, suddenly remembering exactly what he did to make Kent shut up last night, and the night before. He can’t do this right now. He shouldn’t do this ever. The one thing that matters, the only thing that matters, according to Jack’s father, is THE DRAFT.

That’s how he thinks of it, in all caps.

Tonight when Jack counted out his pills, there were seven missing. He doesn’t know how it happened. He’s good with numbers, at knowing the score at all times. He remembers the shots he made and the shots he missed, keeps a running tally in his head. He memorizes stats. Not just his, but those of every first round draft pick of the last five years, and those of every guy who has even been mentioned as a first round pick this year. He is constantly calculating his odds.

Jack is good with numbers. How has he lost track of the pills he’s taken?

Somebody pries the beer bottle, now warm, from Jack’s hand and replaces it with a new one. Jack didn’t even realize he’d finished the first. Jack takes another drink.

He is so close to having it all, and he is so close to losing it all.

*****

iii

Jack is 24, and when he swiftly pays for Bittle’s coffee, telling his teammate he’s “good for it,” he realizes he is. It’s not just that he can afford it because he’s about to sign an NHL contract. It’s also because Bittle is his friend, and Jack enjoys doing nice things for his friends.

Somehow, and Jack still cannot explain how though he suspects it has a bit to do with Bittle’s own grit and generosity, Bittle has become one of Jack’s best friends.

Checking practice, a morning workout that it turns out they both needed, isn’t really necessary anymore. These days, the early ice time with Bittle is just an excuse for an extra workout. Sometimes they even goof off more than they practice, a concept Jack would have found sacrilegious a year ago. They race each other around the rink, skating faster and faster until their breath comes in aching gasps. Or Bittle will pull out a jump, tentative and imprecise. “I know it’s not impressive,” Bittle says self-deprecatingly, “but just imagine if I had my figure skates.”

Bittle is wrong. Jack is very impressed. Somehow those words catch in his throat when he tries to voice them so he just nods.

Afterward, they get coffee. Jack drinks his black and bitter. “Like your soul,” Bittle once joked. Jack used to think that was true, but now he thinks that maybe he’s softened. More and more, he feels the way Bittle’s milky latte looks: lighter, cooler, sweeter.

Jack takes a sip of Bittle’s latte by accident and ... it’s not unpleasant. There’s an underlying smoky sweetness Jack’s own black coffee is missing, a richness that makes him yearn for a second sip before he hands it back. It’s not the worst thing.

“Good?” Bittle asks, eager and expectant, like Jack’s answer will reveal the secrets of the universe.

“It’s not disappointing,” Jack concedes.

“Well, for five dollars I should think not!” Bittle scoffs as they head back out into the cold.

Bittle wears gloves in 40 degrees and pulls his toque down low over his ears, and sometimes Jack catches himself wondering what it would be like if he could provide that warmth. He decides, when Bitty gives him a friendly hip check, that maybe he’s getting there.

*****

iv

Jack is still 24, and he’s in what his boyfriend just called “Southern-Fried Hell.”

Okay, not really. Objectively, Bitty’s MooMaw’s place isn’t bad at all. It’s the fact that he’s here, sweating profusely and trying to politely choke down a plate of terrible coleslaw, while every single Bittle and Phelps in the state of Georgia attempts to engage in polite conversation when all he wants to do is find a private corner where he can make out with Bitty.

Jack doesn’t even like coleslaw. It’s slimy and stringy and this particular coleslaw is oddly sweet yet somehow bitter and acidic at the same time. There’s pepper in it? Pepper, and something gritty that might be sugar or possibly dirt. Jack hopes it’s sugar.

From the other side of the yard, Bitty catches his eye and hides a smile behind a slice of watermelon as Jack explains his upcoming training schedule to some uncle or cousin or neighbor. He’s been introduced to so many people today, and it’s exhausting. Jack genuinely wants to get to know Bitty’s family, but he also wants Bitty, and only one of those things is possible at the moment.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Bitty laughs as he cards his fingers through Jack’s hair later that night. “You did not have to eat Aunt Connie’s coleslaw. Bless her heart, she tries, but we all stopped pretending we liked it years ago.”

“I wanted to be polite,” Jack says. “Make a good first impression. My parents always made me try a little of everything at their parties.”

Bitty’s face does something complicated, a look equal parts pity and irritation. “Jack. I promise you nobody in this family is gonna think less of you because you don’t eat Aunt Connie’s coleslaw, or Uncle Hank’s ribs, or Judy’s potato salad. I’m not gonna think less of you. It’s enough that you’re here.”

Bitty presses a little closer to Jack, and Jack’s body registers every point of skin-on-skin contact: elbows, hands, thighs, calves. Bitty’s bare foot where it tangles with Jack’s. It feels like there’s an electric current running through each point, vibrating at a frequency only they can feel.

Or it could just be the humidity. Georgia in July is really fucking humid.

Overhead, the fireworks show is starting, far enough away that they can see but not hear the spectacle.

“Promise me,” Bitty says, corners of his mouth quirking upward, “that next year you’ll skip the coleslaw.”

It should feel scary, to make that promise when this is still so new, but Jack can clearly see the years spooling out ahead of them, years of avoiding Aunt Connie’s coleslaw and making small talk with the strangers he met today until they’re no longer strangers.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Bitty sighs happily and rests his head on Jack’s chest, a pleasant weight that reminds Jack of everything he’s found since the day he lost it all.

*****

v

Jack is 36, and some days he feels every day of it. His shoulders and knees ache more often than not, especially when a four-year old is perched on top of those aching shoulders. When they walk into Bitty’s shop he gently lifts Evie from his shoulders and sets her down in front of the bakery case so she can look at the day’s treats.

“Chocolate old-fashioned?” Bitty’s sliding the doughnut across the counter before Jack orders. He knows his husband. Never once, in all the time he’s owned this shop, has Jack ordered one of the novelty doughnuts he keeps on the menu even though there’s nothing really “novelty” about Skittles or Hot Cheetos on top of a doughnut these days. They’re a holdover from the previous owner, who made his name creating Instagrammable confections. Bitty’s taken his original recipes in a different direction, experimenting with natural food dyes and delicate floral infusions. His creations have gotten some attention in local foodie circles, but most people come in for the classics.

Jack still doesn’t eat sprinkle doughnuts. The sprinkles, even the organic ones Bitty uses, still stick in his teeth and make them feel funny. But Evie loves sprinkle doughnuts. She especially loves it when her daddy hands one to her and takes a break to sit with them while she eats it.

“How was your swim lesson, sweetheart?” Bitty asks, a soft sigh escaping as he sits for what is probably the first time all morning. Jack listens to the two chatter happily as he picks at his own doughnut, chewing slowly.

Jack remembers sitting in a shop like this with his own mother, and — occasionally — his father. He and Maman would stop at the doughnut shop across from his swim lesson for “a little treat,” as she liked to call it. They always went to that one instead of the chain shop Papa had an endorsement deal with; it was a long time before Jack realized Maman intentionally chose the smaller shop because of its anonymity.

“That’s Papa.” Evie points at the poster on the wall behind Bitty, at a smiling Jack holding a cake doughnut topped with sprinkles, Falcs blue and yellow. After the last Cup Bitty had the idea to recreate the advertisement Bad Bob did years ago, and with time Jack agreed that it could be fun. Somehow, the photographer managed to capture Jack at the exact moment he saw Bitty and Evie walk in. Bitty says it’s the most natural photo Jack has ever taken.

“That is your papa,” Bitty says. “Remember, we took the pictures together and talked about how we were going to put the one of just Papa up here in the shop because his team won the Cup? How does he look?”

Evie take a bite, swallows as she tilts her head and considers the Jack on the wall. Suddenly, he recalls with perfect clarity what it felt like to be four or five and see another version of his father in a public space. The way it made him feel proud and shy and scared for reasons he couldn’t articulate.

“Happy,” Evie finally declares, swinging her legs and beaming up at her fathers. “I think he looks happy.”

[eurovision-del]

And now, just before the show tonight, here’s the conclusion of my ranking of the entries this year, with my top 10.

10. Sweden – Move

I never got the hype for any other song in Melfest this year so I was overjoyed when this song won! It’s just such an expression of love and joy, with a message that may be familiar but still very important. The Mamas nail those harmonies and each gets a moment to shine, their voices are so incredible. I enjoy the pop sounds in the chorus well enough, but the moment I love is when it moves in the properly gospel bridge, it just brings the energy right up.

9. Georgia – Take Me As I Am

Georgia have become one of my favourite countries in Eurovision, up there with Albania and Portugal. I’m so grateful that they stick to their guns and do their own thing, sending interesting varied music. As a halfway decent rock song, this was always going to make my top 10. It’s not perfect as far as rock goes, I feel it could do with a little more variety, it’s all very loud with long notes, and I could do with some different rhythms and levels in the verses, but the scream of anguish works very well in the chorus, and I like the grungy sound the song has. I do think this song is saying something important with the idea of wanting to be loved as who you are while taking a dig at the big 5, but I do feel the lyrics, while to the point, can feel a little basic. Tornike is one of the artists confirmed for next year, and I’m very excited to see what he brings!

8. Norway – Attention

This is the best straightforward ballad this year as far as I’m concerned. I find it deeply moving, Ulrikke sings this song and sells it so well. Lyrically, I think this is actually really strong, at first I was put off by how needy it sounds, but the main line in the chorus ‘why do I think it’s ok not being me because of you’ brings it all together and makes it clear it’s about someone who knows it isn’t healthy, but can’t help themselves, and it makes the song feel so much more relatable and painful to me. The melody is also really strong, and I adore the moment after the quieter bridge where the song absolutely lets loose in the climax.

7. Germany – Violent Thing

Sometimes a song just cuts through, and I don’t care about the lyrics, and I can’t point to what it is, but it just sets the mood so well and I just want to dance. This is that song this year. I could point to a good production, and a unique voice, but in the end I can’t really justify my love for this song other than the instrumental just works for me! I want songs to make me feel something and this is just makes me feel happy, I can’t really explain it.

6. Czech Republic – Kemama

So remember when I ranked this song 5th out of 7 in the Czech selection? I still stand by that ranking, that’s how strong that selection was this year. That said Kemama did grow on me over time. I’ve just finished my final semester at Uni and submitted my dissertation a couple of days ago, and I’m not sure when it was, but at some point this song became my relief from it all, I love how chill it sounds while still being really uplifting, and those pre-chorus lyrics (I just work like this, 24/7) became a bit of an anthem for me these past months. The lyrics hit the perfect spot between being really personal to the singer, but also very relatable. I didn’t hate the first revamp either, though it was poorly mixed, and I really like the final version, those little guitars are so nice, though like Alcohol You I wish it had upped the intensity on the final chorus by working on the backing track without having to resort to changing the melody and forcing in a dramatic note in the main line, but I think it’s still a great track.

5. Israel – Feker Libi

So looking at the average mood of my top 10 (with some exceptions), apparently I just wanted to feel good things this year. This is the song that encapsulates that, it’s such a burst of joy and fun, and the one that most successfully fills me with happiness and makes me want to dance! I think the blend of different ethnic influences in the backing and the different languages works so well here. There’s so many things that just work here, from the little instrumental line at the very opening, to the vocal calls, to the way it repeats the chorus just enough to get it well and truly stuck in your head, but switches up the beat to keep it interesting and exciting. I love the second half of the chorus where the heavier ethnic beats come in, but I think part of why it works is because it contrasts so nicely with the more familiar dance beats in the first half of the chorus. My favourite part though is the end, where it ramps up the energy with the beat switch and it’s just so good! And to top it all off it’s sung by Eden Alene, who is such a great charismatic performance, she exudes joy on that stage and just seems like someone you’d want to party with. Of all the artists who are confirmed for next year, she’s the one I’m happiest for.  

4. Ukraine – Solovey

In Feker Libi I could point to so many individual parts and say why they work for me, for Solovey I just have to point to the whole song. The blend of ethnic sounds with that singing technique and the modern beats works really well, and while drops are very hit and miss for me, this one just works. It’s a truly unique entry, I can’t think of anything I can really compare it to, and one that I absolutely love.

3. The Netherlands – Grow

This song was one of the later ones released, at a similar time to many others, and I thought it was nice but kind of overlooked it the first time I heard it. I can’t remember when it was, but there was one time I was listening through all the songs, and it just reached out and touched me, and I absolutely fell in love with this song. I love the structure here, the way it starts contemplative with several verses, before the final section builds up to a peak right at the end of the song, taking you on a journey from almost bittersweet reflection to a final note of confidence and hope. Jeangu has such a great voice, and I adore the way he sings this song, he brings so much texture and emotion to the lyrics. And about those lyrics, these are easily my favourite this year. I tend not to look up lyrics for songs, if I can’t pick them out in the song, I won’t judge them, and that was absolutely true for this song, but this song really puts the lyrics front and centre so I couldn’t help but pay attention. Similar to Kemama, they’re a good mix of deeply personal and relatable, but the emotional connection is so much deeper in this song. This is the point in my ranking where I really start to mourn that we’ll be missing these songs on stage, I’m sure Jeangu will bring something great next year but this song is so excellent I’m disappointed we’ll never see it on stage.

2. Iceland – Think About Things

Looking back on my rankings at the time I almost can’t believe I didn’t rank this song first in Iceland in the semis. But by the time the final came round I knew I wanted it to win though, and it’s only grown on me since. There’s not much I can say on this song that I haven’t said before, the instrumentation is top tier, I love the 80s synth, that brass in the instrumental, and that baseline. The song progresses so nicely into the best key change of the entire Eurovision season, national finals included, and puts such a smile on my face. It might not make me want to get up and party like Feker Libi does, but it’s just so uplifting and enjoyable, and you can’t help but dance along a little. It’s also got some great lyrics which are a genuine expression of love for his daughter. I was worried the staging might make it seem a little goofy, but the overall internet reaction has been really positive, and the whole performance is just a lot of fun.

1. Lithuania – On Fire

And finally, my favourite song of this year. The perfect combination of a slick instrumental production with a real soul. The message of never being too old to live is great, and that instrumental line on the drop is just infectious. I also actually really like the way the lead singer sings, it’s a little rough but it compliments the backing track perfectly. This song absolutely stands out on it’s own but it is elevated by the staging. It’s definitely one of the best staged performances of the national final season, ‘winner vibes’ might not be the most helpful term, but this was the performance that really gave me them. We’ll never know who would have won this year, there were certainly options, but I do feel for Lithuania as this was their big chance to snatch their fist win. I don’t know if The Roop will come back next year, but I do worry that this was lightning in a bottle, I’ve listened to some of their other songs and they’re very good, but everything about this was perfect, from the song, to the staging, to the performance, and it’s going to be very hard to replicate.

Overall, I found this year a little less interesting than last year, with a lot of songs in the grey ‘this is fine’ zone, but there were plenty of songs that did stand out, and five that I truly love and look forward to listening to for years to come, as part of the Eurovision canon.

[stormyskies-and-darklies]

SPOILER ALERT: The Walking Dead Seasons 1-5 + New Viewer Thoughts

so i started watching the walking dead last month and i have so many thoughts, so i decided to compile them into one place so far. i might forget a few moments and i might forget a few character names so, sorry 🤷🏽‍♀️ this isn’t in chronological order, but i’ll try my best to do that, but i’m writing these as i remember the moments. if you haven’t watched it, you’ve been warned !

even if Rick was dead, it’s still really messed up for the best friend and wife to get together

i think Rick had every right to hand cuff Myrle to the pole. there’s no time to be disrespectful for no reason. you can’t be an ass to someone and then expect them to help you. i did slightly feel bad when they left him on the roof but it’s what he deserves

when Rick met up with the group, i honestly thought Lori didn’t really love him anymore during the rest of the time

i miss the farm a lot. it was nice and cute :/

Sophia wouldn’t have died if Rick told her to stay instead of run back 🙊

the build up to finding Sophia was longer than it needed to be

Maggie flipping out on Lori and yelling her business out loud was a little uncalled for. yeah, she almost died but she should’ve known the risk and even if she was mad, she still didn’t have to yell it out loud for people to potentially hear

Dale was always trying to get into everyone’s business, it was sad when he died but idk how i really felt about him

they really should’ve let Andrea die early on if she was going to continue to be whiny. if she really wanted to die, she could’ve done it by runing off and getting bit or by shooting herself at any time. i didn’t like Andrea much, especially in the third ? season (the one leading up to her death)

Shane and that dumb face whenever he was mad 🙄

I liked Shane at first but then he got annoying. What part of you can’t love your best friend’s wife don’t you understand ??

I feel bad for that kid that Shane tricked and killed in the woods

I also feel really bad for Otis. Who knows if they could’ve made it

The prison was okay but it made sense as a good shelter. It’s unfortunate how much supplies they lost.

I’m so glad Rick killed the leader of that prison gang!

I understand Lori’s death, but her body didn’t have to be eaten :/

T-Dog :((

Justin ? (The guy who set off the alarms) is an asshole. Like you really think of the walkers killed everyone you were going to make survive out on your own ??

The war between the prison and the governor is Myrle’s fault. He didn’t have to kidnap them, he could’ve just secretly followed them

It’s not the group’s fault that some Woodbury’s people died. If you have one of their people in capture, obviously they’re going to kill some people to get them back. The governor destroyed everything because of someone else’s fault 🙄

I did not enjoy the governor. I’m glad he died but he did not get a good enough death in my opinion. It would’ve been more satisfying to see Mishoan (sorry if it’s misspelled) to kill him, and definitely not by a bullet to the head.

If those two sisters at the apartment let the governor leave when he wanted to without them tagging along, then who knows if his climb back to power would’ve happened

Martinez? shouldn’t have saved him after what he witnessed. he knew he was a threat. should’ve saved the girl and left him and told the truth to the sisters

The governor’s other henchman, that black guy (I don’t remember his name at all) what was the point of him?? The camera kept focusing on him as if he was going to do something or be important but in the end he just died

i felt bad for Milton at the end :/ he finally came to his senses and it was a shame that he died

Andrea should’ve sucked it up and killed him the first time when she was supposed to. Also, idk why she thought she had the power to save everyone like this is war ?? saying “stop and make up, these are my friends” isn’t enough honey lol. She wasted too much time looking at Milton while she was trying to free herself bc it distracted her focus and time

I don’t know why Lori was so mad that Rick killed Shane, like ???

Poor prison :/ i couldn’t stop thinking about all the supplies they lost

I never understood whether the sickness in the prison was random or it was started by something else, like the infected rats? everyone got sick then they just moved on, like it seemed like too big of a plot element to move on so quickly

I’m surprised Hershel never caught the sickness after literally getting coughed in the face

Hershel did not deserve the death he got :/

I’m not surprised that Myrle was killed and turned, but I think it’s good that the person who finally killed him was Daryle bc it gives closure. If Myrle originally stuck with the group with Rick around, i don’t think things would’ve worked out

I’m glad Mishoan joined the group, she’s a great addition and she’s badass with that sword

At first, I didn’t catch on to the fact that Tyrese and Sasha were siblings so i genuinely thought he was cheating on her and was so confused when Sasha never got mad lol

I understand Carol wanting to stop the spreading of the sickness but at the point with so many other people sick what was the point? How are you going to secretly kill and burn everyone was is sick ??

It was sad seeing Rick banishing Carol but in a way I understand because you can’t just secretly betray a group like that

The group getting separated was so sad :/ but I liked the story build up of seeing how certain character pairings were together, and learning more about them. For example, Daryl and Beth :/

The part where Daryl and Beth come across the dead body debris and the camera focused on the boot, it never showed who the boot belonged to to make Beth hysterically cry. Yes, they showed the other group dying in the same spot before Carol ran into Tyrese but the way Beth reacted made it seem like someone from the group died. Unless she was just crying from the thought of someone in the group getting killed?

When Daryl and Beth ended up in that church and they noticed the supplies were fresh, meaning whoever lived there was still around, I wonder who it was supposed to be. At first I thought priest when he said he had a church, but then we found out it wasn’t the same one so I wonder who was there

Rick really bit off a man’s neck 😳 gotta do what you gotta do though

It made me nervous when Daryl joined that group because I thought he was going to be forced to stay or I thought the group was going to be the next big guys, but i was relieved when they died quickly.

I can’t believe Lizzie killed Mika :/ some kids don’t understand, I get it but if one of them were to survive I wish it was Mika. As sick as it sounds, if Lizzie got bit maybe she would’ve realized the seriousness of the walkers or maybe she wanted to be one of them. Carol had to do what she had to do afterwards.

I applaud Carol for how much she’s grown. Despite her abuse, she never stopped being kind hearted and grew into this strong woman who can protect herself and others, and also stands up for herself more

Terminus did it’s purpose by reuniting the group but it was so short lived. Like they managed to escape cannibals but run into them shortly after, but then kill them altogether and then that’s it, they move on to the next group?

Why did they have that moment with Rick, Carol, and those two people from the town, Rick giving him his watch, just for the guy to disappear and then randomly show up at Terminus and die?? Like what was the point? I was expecting more.

Glenn used to be the sensitive, nervous guy but now he’s grown into the strong, hard man and while his silliness is gone, i’m happy about his character development bc he does what he needs to to survive

Abraham, Rosita, and Eugene are an interesting group and interesting addition to the whole group. Not much to say about them (except Suzie Crabgrass 😍)

Sasha and Tyrese were an interesting addition too. I like Tyrese better

Tyrese is a sensitive, nice man, I like the fact that he’s not overly aggressive and kills everything living thing in his path. He’s like a big teddy bear, the protector and it gives a nice balance. Yeah, it unfortunately cost him his death but his character was needed :/

Bob was the most random character addition. Even after it showed what he did before he met them, i still don’t understand what his purpose was. He got a young man killed because of his alcohol issue. He tried to sneak a second bottle but then didn’t do anything with it. Why mention the alcoholism twice to not do anything more with it? Even after he does it doesn’t affect the group besides Sasha being emotional.

The addition of the priest is kind of random too. He was alone; they helped him and gave him shelter, but what else? He even tried to escape and got the others in trouble trying to save him so?? At the new community, I haven’t seen him much so what happened with him?

Beth’s death was really sad. I wanted her to make it but i understand that if Dawn didn’t accidentally kill her, Rick wouldn’t have killed Dawn and Noah would’ve been forced to stay. If Noah stayed, then they wouldn’t have had a reason to move up north.

The hospital seemed like they were genuinely trying to help people but why they were so forceful and strict didn’t sit right with me.

The doctor wanted to leave but I don’t know why he didn’t go with the group?? He would’ve been useful for them.

I like Noah so far (though i might be biased bc i did watch everybody hates Chris lol) i’m guess he’ll be more useful later on

Tyrese’s death was the moment that finally made me cry :/ specifically the moment they showed his beanie 😭😭

Rick went from trying to do right and trying to save everybody to not taking anymore shit and I love it

I miss Georgia already.

Season 5 has been slow for me. As of right now I haven’t finished the last 3 episodes yet because I don’t understand the point of the new community that they’re in. It’s too good to be true. I don’t trust anybody except Aaron bc he seems niave. Trouble is going to happen with the woman’s husband, I can tell him and Rick are probably gonna fight until the husband dies. The wife will freak out. The leader of the group seems suspicious. The whole area doesn’t sit well with me. I’m constantly waiting for something to happen bc the whole time they’re being watched & they know what Carol and Rick are up to.

that’s all for now. once i finish season 5, i’ll add to this

[trashcanband4]

Training Sessions: Session 4

Session 1 Session 2 Session 3

Summery: You and Daryl have a quiet date night. Pairing: Daryl x Reader Warnings: Insinuation of sex Wordcount: 3,444

When you got to your house the first thing you did was take a relaxing hot shower and wash every bit of dirt, grime and walker blood down the drain. When you were finished with that you blow dried your hair, then tied it up into a simple style. Now that you felt like your clean self again you got dressed in a pair of frayed jean shorts and a black ribbed tank top. You had just put half a pack of fettuccini noodles on the boil when you heard a knock on the door. You were expecting Daryl, but when you opened the door Olivia’s face was reveled.  “Oh, hey, what’s up?” you asked a little confused as to why she was at your door.

“You forgot to bring the weapons back to the armory. I was just wondering if you were going to claim them as yours.” She said before she held up the clip board in her hands. “If so you need to sign here.” She pointed to where there was an x marked on the paper next to a line.

“Oh, yeah, they pretty much feel like mine now so I guess I’ll claim them.” You said as you took the board and signed. You tucked the pen into the top of the clip board then handed it back to her with a smile. “Pleasure doin’ business with you.”

The woman just smiled and took the clip board then walked off. You were about to close the door when you saw someone move down the street and you craned your neck to see Daryl headed your way. He wore a clean grey shirt and his vest and you couldn’t help but think how different he looked when he cleaned up and didn’t have his bow on his back.

You wanted to sat there and wait for him to get to your door, but you heard water boil out of the pot in the kitchen. So you left the living room door open to let him know he could come on it and headed to the kitchen and* started the timer. “Where you at?” Daryl called from the front door.

“Kitchen.” You called back and you could hear his footsteps as he walked into the kitchen. “Hope fettuccini Alfredo is okay.” You told him before you turned around to see him standing at the bar with a plastic container in his hand.

“Carol made me bring these, said it wasn’t polite to show up without something.” He said with a shrug as he slid the container across the bar to you.

You opened it to see that it was some of her cookies. “Awesome.” You said with a smile as you put the lid back on. “I’ve been wanting to try these ever since she got here. The housewife down the street raved about them for forever.”

“Alfredo sounds good.” He told you with a nod so you turned to the cabinet behind you and grabbed the can of sauce that you’d been hording for the past few months, out of the cabinet.

“I hope it doesn’t taste too bad without some kind of meat in it.” You turned back around to see him grabbing glasses out of the cabinet and fill them with ice. “All I have is water other than alcohol.” He didn’t ask what you wanted, but instead filled the glass’ with ice and water and set them at their places at the table.

“So, what are we watching tonight?” he asked as you waited for the noodles to get done.

“There’s a stack of movies on the coffee table if you want to choose.” You told him as the timer on the stove started beeping.

“What are you in the mood for?” he asked as he pulled out a bar stool and sat down, not going to pick a movie. He enjoyed the view of you backside where you stood at the stove with your back to him.

You pored the noodles into the strainer then into a bowl. “It really doesn’t matter to me.” You turned from the stove to set the bowl down on the bar. “I’ll watch whatever. I’m not picky when it comes to movies.”

“Alright.” He told you with a nod then things fell quiet between you as you finished up the simple meal. Once the table was set and food was dished out you and Daryl sat down and started eating in silence.

Although it was a comfortable silence, you felt that you and Daryl should be talking more given that you were having what you assumed to be a date. So finally you asked, “So, where did you grow up?” you asked before you took a bite and slurped the noodle into your mouth.

“Georgia.” He answered as he chewed. “What about you.”

“Mostly grew up in Texas, but then my foster family moved here.” You answered looking down at your plate as you thought about the family you’d lost. “My foster father’s job transferred him.”

“So you were in foster care?” he asked with a hint of curiosity in his voice.

“Yep, thankfully I had good foster parents. A lot of the kids that I knew weren’t as lucky as my foster brother and me.” You answered then took a bite.

“Where’s your brother?” Daryl asked as he finished off his dinner.

“He passed before the turn. Kidney cancer.” You answered and Daryl nodded. “What about you? You have any brothers or sisters, mom, dad?” you asked and Daryl grimaced.

“Mom died in a house fire when I was a kid. Dad got taken in the beginning and my brother, Merle, got killed by a duchebag that called himself the governor about a year after.” Daryl replied.

You felt like the two of you were bonding over the fact that you had no biological family left. In an attempt to pick up the mood you changed the subject. “So what did you used to do for a living?”

“Nothing.” Daryl answered with a shrug.

“Really? Nothing?” you asked.

“I was a nobody. I just hung around with my brother getting into trouble.” He answered and you decided not to push it further. “What did you do?” he asked turning things back to you.

“Are you sure you want to know?” you asked with a hint of mischief in your tone as you got up from the table.

“Mmhmm.” He hummed as he grabbed his plate and followed you to the sink where you both placed your plats.

“Would you believe me if I told you I was a stripper?” you asked as you turned around and leaned against the cabinet.

Daryl stared you in the eyes for a full thirty seconds before he shook his head. “No.”

You just smirked and continued to hold eye contact. “I that your final answer?” you asked, hoping to throw him off.

“There’s no way.” He said sounding like he was starting to doubt his instincts. “You’re too…quiet.”

“But don’t they always say that it’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for?” you asked as you walked around him, breaking eye contact.

“Your messing with me.” He said, following you into the living room.

“Am I?” you asked turning around to walk backwards for a few steps. “What do you think I did?” you asked turning around, knowing that the coffee table would be behind you.

“Librarian?” he asked and you shook your head no. He looked around the room as if he could find a clue. “You’re a nail tech.” he guessed and you smiled.

“How you figure?” you asked and he nodded to your nails.

“Your nails are healthy and there’re chips of paint left behind on ‘em. There’s also five different bottles of nail polish sitting around in this room.” You felt your jaw slack a little. “I’ve also noticed the nail powder and monomer on the bookshelf.”

“Are you sure you weren’t a private detective before?” you asked and Daryl laughed and shook his head. “Well you should’ve been.” You sat down on the couch “Because you’re right” and slid the stack of movies you had pre-picked over to Daryl. “Pick.”

He sat down next to you and started picking through the movies. Eventually Daryl slid two movies toward you. “You pick.”

You let you eyes travel between the cases of Legion and Paranormal activity. “So you like scary?” you asked and Daryl just shrugged clearly indifferent. You thought the decision through more than you probably should have. On one hand Legion was a good movie, but paranormal activity had good jump scares and it had been a long time since you had watched it. So deciding that you needed and excuse to get close to Daryl you picked up Paranormal Activity and popped it into the dvd player.

After fast forwarding through the previews to get to the menu you pressed the play button and sat down on the couch next to Daryl. Thirty minutes into the movie you realized that the lights were still on in the living room. “Is it okay with you if I turn the lights off?” you asked and Daryl motioned you to go ahead. So, feeling nervous all of a sudden you quickly stood up and grabbed the pull chain of the lights and turned them off.  You were sitting back down when all of a sudden Daryl’s arm looped around your waist and pulled you into him.

A little shocked you looked up at him with wide eyes. “This okay?” he asked and you felt your lips pull up into a small smile as you nodded and pulled your feet up onto the couch, tucking yourself into his side.

Now, you found yourself no longer paying attention to the movie. Instead you were lost in the feel of Daryl. How his hand that lightly held your side would gently grip your hip when a jump scare got him, his heart beat against your hand that you rested on his chest and how every once in a while you could feel him look down at you. Eventually when you didn’t look up at him he quietly asked, “You awake?”

You looked up at him and smiled a little. “I’m awake.” After you answered the credits and accompanying music started playing. You just stared at each other for a few seconds. The way he was looking at you sent a tidal wave of butterflies through your stomach. “What are you thinking about right now?” you asked as you reached up and brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes.

He looked down as if he didn’t want to tell you before he finally looked back and you with smoldering eyes. “How beautiful you are.” His low gravely voice sent a shiver down your spine and a blush warmed your cheeks. “Especially when you do that.” He reached out and ran the backs of his fingers down your cheek. You smiled and leaned into his touch. “What are you thinkin’ about?” he asked as he slid his hand down to rest on you neck.

“A lot.” You answered with a sigh as you moved around to lay on the couch with your head in his lap. “Some of it’s superficial the rest of it, not so much.” You smiled when he placed his hand on your forehead and brushed your hair back. “So what do you want to hear, shallow thoughts or deep thoughts? Either way they’ve all got something to do with you.” You told him as you grabbed his hand that wasn’t playing with your hair and placed your palms together.

“Deep.” He answered as he watched you line your fingers up with his.

“I feel like your too good for me.” You didn’t look up at him and just kept playing with his muscular fingers. “like I don’t deserve you.”

“What?” Daryl asked as if you had just told him that the moon was made of cheese. “You think I’m too good for you?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “I mean I’m… I’m no one… just a useless shut in. But you?” you finally looked up at him. “You’re someone, a survivor. You can protect this place and help provide for people.”

“You’ll become a survivor too. Just takes time.” Daryl twitched his fingers in yours moving his fingers so that he could close his hand around yours. “That’s why you asked me for help, right?” he asked.

You nodded and looked back at his hand in yours where he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb. “And because I wanted an excuse to be around you.” You added with a small smirk to lighten things up a bit.

“I’m glad one of us had the courage to come up with an excuse.” His quiet words caused a smile to cross your face. “Game on?” he asked and somehow you knew that he was meaning that he wanted to play the game that you had been playing earlier that day. So you sat up and turned around to face him with one of your legs pulled up into the couch.

You nodded and smiled he motioned for you to go first. “Did you plan the camping trip just so you could get me alone?” You asked the first question that popped into your head.

“No.” he answered and you felt a little disappointed. “And yes.”

“Okay break the rules of the game and explain that one please.” You suggested.

“You really did need the training, so no, I didn’t plan it just so we would be alone, but I did also want uninterrupted time alone with you so yes.” He explained making you smile. “Last night, you’d moved over in your sleep and cuddled with me. Why’d you move away before I woke up?’

“That’s not a yes or no question.” You told him and he rolled his eyes. “Fine.” You glanced down at your hands where they laid in your lap. “I woke up, pressed into your side and you weren’t touching me or cuddling me back. I figured you didn’t want me touching you, but were too nice to make me move. So I moved.”

“I told you before. You can fall asleep on me anytime. You didn’t have to move.” He told you so you nodded letting him know you understood.

“Did you plan on more happening in that tent than just sleeping?” you asked needing to know.

“Will you hate me if I say yes?” he answered you question with a question.

“No.” you admitted with a shy smile. “Because it was all I could think about all night.”

“Can I kiss you?” he asked quietly and you nodded so he leaned into you and pressed his lips to yours. You kissed him back. As the kiss deepened he placed his hand on your sides and pulled you a little closer. You let him manipulate you as if you were a puppet. When his lips left yours it was only to start kissing his way down your neck.

Laughter bubbled from your lips when all of a sudden Daryl gripped your hips and picked you up, moving you to sit on his lap. You pressed your face into his neck as he slid his hands up your back then back down to slide up under your shirt. You sighed at the feeling of his warm hands on your flesh. “Are you sure about this?” your mouth asked the question without your minds permission.

“Yep.” Daryl grunted from where he was kissing your shoulder. “Are you?” he asked between kisses.

“Yes.” Your tone wasn’t quiet right and Daryl could tell. So he pulled back to look you in the eyes.

“You said yes, but I heard no.” he slid his hands down your back to rest on your hips again. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” You told him with a shake of your head.

“Told ya in the beginning, ya gotta learn to talk.” Daryl said moving his hand to rest on your cheek. “So talk to me.”

“I feel like…your just going along with this because you know I like you and Carol and Rick seem to be pushing us together.” You admitted some thoughts that had been floating around in your head since the two of you started getting closer. “Like I’ve been pushed on you.”

Daryl ran his thumb down your cheek. “You are beautiful.” His words pulled your eyes up from where you had been staring down at your hands were they rested on his chest. “and smart. You’ve had my attention since the first time I saw you out there runnin’.” He said making you blush he noticed and smiled a little. “You looked like you were lost in your own little world, skin slick with sweat. Trust me, I want you and no one made me do it.” He insisted and slid his hand down your face to grip your neck.

“Say that again.” You whispered still looking him in the eyes.

“No one made me.” He repeated.

You shook your head no. “Not that, the other part.”

“I want you.” Daryl whispered back sending a chill down your spine to your core. Your eyes slipped closed and you smiled. “So what do you want?” Daryl asked and you opened you eyes back up.

“You.” You answered as you slid your hands up his chest to his neck.

“huh?” he asked pretending like he hadn’t heard you.

“I want you.” You told him louder right before he pressed his lips hard into yours.

His kisses were so needy and passionate that you no longer questioned him. You were once again putty in his hands as he gripped your ass and stood up. As you wrapped your legs around his waist he broke the kiss to ask, “Where’s your bedroom?” then started kissing your neck pulling a moan out of you.

“Hallway.” He bit your neck fogging your brain. “Door at the end.” You wrapped your legs tighter around him as he started walking you that way, making out with you the whole time. How he managed to hold you, make out with you, walk and navigate all at the same time, you didn’t know but you didn’t care. You just reached behind him, grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head.

Eventually though, you felt your back hit the door and to keep from him having to put you down to open the door you took one of your arms out from around him to reach behind you and open the door. He broke the kiss long enough to locate the bed and lay you both down.

~~~~~

You both lay on the bed covered in a light sheen of sweat that the thin sheet covering you stuck to. You were tucked into the crook of Daryl’s arm tracing the letters of the tattoo on his chest when Daryl finally broke the silence. “Can I ask you somethin’?”

You rolled over onto your stomach so that you could look at his face. “I’m an open book.” You replied as you propped your head up in your hands.

“How’d you end up in foster care?” he asked and you turned your eyes to the mattress.

“My , my father… had a gambling addiction. He constantly owed someone money, most of the time he couldn’t pay up. So he…sold me, to people.” You admitted, not looking him in the eyes. Daryl reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “You see that scar on my side?” you asked and he ran his fingers up the long rigid, raised scar. “When I was fourteen a man tried to kill me. He told my father “Give me my money or I’ll gut this bitch like a fish”. Without missing a beat my father told him to go for it. So the guy did it. Slit me from my hip to my armpit.”

You felt Daryl hook his finger under your chin to tild your head up and place a gentle kiss on your lips. “So how’d you not bleed out?”

“I practically drug myself to the neighbors house and demanded she drive me to the er.” You answered. “From there CPS was called and I never set foot in that house again.”

“You’re already a survivor, ya know that?” Daryl asked and you simply shrugged, not believing him.

“Does that mean our survival training is over?” you asked a little sad.

“Hell no.” he rolled over to hover above you then started up another passionate kiss.

Training Sessions Tag List: @itsmysticalmystery  @txnii-hxrdyy

Daryl Tag List:  @jodiereedus22 @mtngirlforever @zzeacat @winchester-angel @moodygrip @beegnc @hells-mistress @lighthope08 @sapphire1727 @luisadontcurr @chloebabyboo @ilkaeliseb @twdeadfanfic @ravengalaxia @1lluminaticonfirmed @my-current-fandom-is @nikkiloves-bailey @coffeebooksandfandom @lonewolf471 @gruffle1 @mblaqgi @calumstuffs @beltzboys2015-blog @neontiger007  @lonewolf471 @sourwolf-sterek32 @khloekiddo

[trade-baby-blues]

Feint

Pairing: Bones x Reader

Word Count: 1934

Warnings: minor swearing

A/N: Based on a request by an anon! The title is a pun bc the reader faints but also because reader and Bones have kind of rude attitudes to each other so it’s a little like feinting (and also I’m super tired so maybe it’s only funny to me lol). Hope you enjoy!!

Nervous was the best way to describe how you felt around Leonard McCoy. The strong jaw, piercing gaze, terrifying medical equipment -it was a mental recipe for disaster, sending you into a panic every time you were near him. Unfortunately, your fight or flight response was biased to fighting (too many years with Jim, Bones always said) and you came off rude every time you spoke with him.

Bones, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out what he’d done wrong. He’d been smitten from the moment you first got wheeled into Medbay. You and Jim had gone on an away mission and decided to race to the bottom of a hill. In a spark of what you called genius, you grabbed an emergency inflatable raft from the transport ship. Needless to say, neither of you realized the hill ended abruptly in a shallow cliff, and you tumbled out of the raft onto the quarry floor below. Luckily for Jim, you broke his fall. The whole ordeal was so stupid it actually endeared you to Bones as you explained it.

The scoldings, on the other hand, were much less endearing. They became more frequent and more intense as Bones fell harder for you. While he was glad to see you so often, he hated seeing you injured in whatever idiotic shenanigan you and Jim had gotten yourselves into this time. It was a waste of his time and yours.

“Can you believe it,” you shouted to Jim, who was in the shower, while you hung upside down from the side of his bed. “He said I was ‘wasting his time.’”

The water shut off. “Yelling is just how Bones shows he cares,” Jim called from the bathroom.

You scoffed. “Then I’m surprised he hasn’t proposed by now. He yells at me for everything. God, did I tell you that he yelled at me for taking a nap in the conference room chair yesterday? Said it was ‘ruining my posture’ and he wouldn’t help me when I started having back problems.”

Jim poked his head out from the bathroom, wet hair sticking up at odd angles. “You took a nap in the conference room yesterday? Weren’t you on shift?”

“Yes, but that’s not the point Jim. The point is Bones has a stick up his ass the size of Georgia and -.”

“And I think that’s enough,” Jim said ducking back into the bathroom before emerging with a towel draped around his waist. “I love a good shit-talk, but Bones is my friend, too. I don’t wanna get in the middle of whatever this is. It’s weird.”

“So is seeing you walking around in a towel, but that hasn’t stopped you.”

Jim turned around on his way to his closet. “Because it’s my room. Trust me, I would prefer to be naked.”

“Aw, thanks for saving me the nightmares.”  

“Get out,” Jim laughed. You acquiesced, bouncing up from the bed so fast you felt a little dizzy. You brushed it off and made your way back to work.

Bones slammed his breakfast tray down on the table. Stabbed his food. Chomped as if his teeth were grinding down rocks instead of pancakes. Jim watched, bagel halfway in his mouth, before dropping it back to his plate with a sigh. “What’s got your eyebrow twitching today, Bones?”

“Nothing.” He stabbed his food again. Stab. Chomp. Stab. Chomp.

“You sure about-”

“I just don't understand what I did wrong,” Bones cut in. “I've gone out of my way to ensure Y/N gets the best treatment and knows how to take care of herself after whatever stupid shenanigans the two of you have gotten into and she acts like I’m some dictator trying to control her life when all I’m doing is trying to show her I care, you know?” Jim nodded along, trying to respond but being cut off again before he could say anything. “I’ll be damned. That’s the problem, isn’t it? I care about her so much I’ve been smothering her. I’ve got to find her.” Bones shoveled the last few mouthfuls of food into his mouth before practically sprinting out of the mess hall.

Jim stared at the empty space in front of him and sighed. “Thanks for the talk, Jim,” he muttered to himself. “You’re a great listener and a great captain. You’re the best, Jim.”

You threw your wrench to the ground, sending it clattering across the engine room floor. Sweat felt like a permanent accessory on your skin, and you weren’t sure which was louder: the roaring of machines or the roaring of your own heartbeat. When had you gotten so out of shape?

“Maybe it really is time for a physical,” you told yourself as you clambered back down to collect your tools for the day. The floor seemed to shift as you bent forward, barely managing to catch yourself before your face hit the metal floor beneath you. “Hm. Weird and not at all terrifying,” you whispered, keeping your hands and knees firmly planted as you waited for the dizziness to fade. “Probably dehydrated, which would also explain why I’m talking to a wrench.” You pressed your forehead against the floor, hoping the coolness of the metal would help abate the heat and lightheadedness plaguing your body.

The noise around you grew quieter as you focused on your breathing, on the solid ground beneath you, on anything but the overwhelming pounding in your chest. You came to realize your body wasn’t hot - your chest was. It felt like your heart was ready to burst out of it, pumping as if you’d run a marathon rather than climbed a ladder. You fought past the ever encroaching whiteness at the edge of your vision to fish through your toolkit for your Comm, hoping to reach Scotty or Jim or anyone and tell them where you were, but you could feel your arms get heavier with each move you made. Your fingers wrapped around the Comm like a life raft as you slipped past the edge of consciousness.

Bones tried to pretend like it didn’t upset him that you were avoiding his calls, but he’d always been one to wear his emotions on his sleeve, and right now his sleeves were pushed to his elbows, crushed and wrinkled, as he buried himself in paperwork to forget about the messages he’d sent you hours ago. Of course, he’d wanted to confess his feelings in person, but, when he couldn’t find you, Bones had to settle for a Comm call. When you didn’t respond, he was forced to settle for a bottle of whiskey and the realization that maybe you simply hated him after all. It was all the same. He’d gotten used to being alone.

That didn’t stop him from jumping from his seat the second his Communicator started ringing. He tried to remind himself that he was an adult, but the mix of alcohol and nerves made Bones damn near drop the Comm half a dozen times before he finally answered.

“Hello.” Bones made a note to not sound so breathless. There was no answer. “Anyone there?” There was a buzzing of machinery in the background but no voice, no sounds of movement. Bones pondered his next move before hanging up and dialing your Comm. It rang and rang but you didn’t pick up. Bones shifted gears and called Jim, asking him to call you before Jim could get a word in. Then, he paced impatiently around his office waiting for Jim to call him back.

“Did she pick up,” Bones started as soon as he answered the call.

“You know,” Jim said, “I am the captain of this ship. I have a job to do. Responsibilities. Plus, I’m technically your boss, so you shouldn’t be so rude to me.”

“Damn it, Jim, I think something might be seriously wrong with Y/N. Did she answer or not?”

“No, she -”

“Meet me down in Engineering.” Bones ended the call as quickly as it started, leaving Jim on the other end, staring into deep space wondering if his being captian meant anything to anyone besides himself.

Everything was bright. Everything was loud. The cotton sheets scratched at your skin, but you were unable to move. Your limbs were lead. Your eyelids like cathedral doors you had to pry open. You tried to focus on the face hovering above you.

“Is that you God? Odin? That cute delivery guy who brought us pizza on our last shore leave?” Your voice came out muddled, but Jim’s laughter hit your ears crystal clear.

“Yeah, I’d say she’s gonna be just fine, Bones.” Jim clapped him on the shoulder.

Bones scoffed. “Just fine? She’s got a heart condition, Jim. There’s nothing fine about that.”

“Someone’s in a bad mood,” you mumbled as you pushed yourself up on the bed. “You’d think you’re the one who got diagnosed with a heart condition.” “As often as the two of you wind up in here, I’m surprised I don’t already have one. God, do you have any idea how dangerous it is to work under the conditions down in Engineering with an arrhythmia?”

You furrowed your brow. “Arrhythmia?”

“An irregular heartbeat.”

“That explains so much…” you whispered in response. Silence fell as Bones glared at you.

“How long have you been having symptoms?”

You avoided his gaze, staring at the hem of the sheet you were lying under. “I don’t know. Not super long. Maybe a couple weeks.”

“A couple weeks,” Bones yelled louder than he intended. He reigned himself in again. “You didn’t think it was something you should mention? I mean, the dizziness, the heart palpitations - they’re all pretty noticeable symptoms.”

“I’m not a doctor,” you said defensively. “I didn’t know what it was! I thought it was just because I have a stupid crush on you and I was nervous or something.” You clapped your hand over your mouth, eyes wide, heart racing again.

“This ain’t a romance novel, sugar,” Bones laughed, which made your cheeks redder than they already were. “Your heart’s not supposed to flutter.”

“Yeah, well I realize it’s not a romance novel or I wouldn’t be lying in a paper gown covered in dust and engine grease in front of a smoking hot doctor.” You crossed your arms over your chest, sinking back into the pillow and wishing, more than anything, that you could sink through the bed and drift off through space to a planet a few systems away from here.

“I like a girl who’s not afraid to get dirty,” Bones teased.

“Aaaaand that’s my cue to leave,” Jim interrupted. “You crazy kids have fun.”

You watched Jim go, hoping he could feel your eyes on his back begging him to stay or at the very least smother you with your own pillow. Either would do. Sadly, he kept walking, leaving you with Bones and a heavy silence as you were both reduced to grade schoolers tugging nervously at your shirt sleeves.

“So,” you started. “Are you gonna...take care of my heart?” You cringed at how cheesy that sounded. “No, that’s. I’m sorry. Can you fix it?”

Bones couldn’t help but laugh. He’d never seen you nervous before. It was a cute look on you. “I’ll take good care of you, doll.” Bones pressed his hand over yours and everything clicked into place. The tornado of thoughts whirring around your brain finally calmed as you focused on the pressure, the warmth of Bones’ hand over yours. It was a feeling you wanted to hold onto forever.

Tags: 

@outside-the-government @martinawalker @thevalesofanduin @goingknowherewastaken @thefanficfaerie  @feelmyroarrrr @brooke-taylor0323 @slither-in-a-half @cuddlememerrick @8bit-arc-reactor @jimtkirkisabitch @sjlovestory @kristaparadowski

[mainsoptions]

Dick van dyke one man band

The “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang” legend was seen running errands after his meal with friends, picking up a bottle of Neutrogena self-tanning spray from a local store. Silver spoke with Closer in a separate interview earlier this year, recalling the moment she first laid eyes on her now-husband. At the time, he was 81 and she was just 35. Van Dyke first met Silver at the 2007 Screen Actors Guild Awards. It takes some adjusting and fitting in, but that’s part of the fun of it.” Find out what old habits don’t work anymore. Van Dyke's television debut was as Florian, a violin-toting nine-year-old in 'The Talented Neighborhood' episode of The Dick Van Dyke Show alongside big brother Christian. While he was that way for a long time, about 25 years, the actors bubbly and. Barry Van Dyke was born in Atlanta, Georgia, the son of Dick Van Dyke (born 1925) and his first wife, Margie Willett (19262008). Dick Van Dyke paints the picture of a happy, easy-going man, which makes it hard to picture him being anything but that. And we work at it to some extent,” he explained. Dick Van Dyke overcame alcoholism to become an inspiration to many others who have an issue with the bottle, and while at it, he found love thrice. “I sometimes forget that we’re doing a great experiment here - 46 years’ difference. Meanwhile, the smitten star said that much-younger Silver also keeps him on his toes. He regularly hits the gym with his wife, Arlene Silver. He also credited his fit physique to “good genes.” Van Dyke was seen telling well-wishers that he’s “just glad to still be here.” Coleman-Rayner Super-fit Van Dyke is often seen out and about in Malibu. Van Dyke revealed he does water aerobics, lifts weights and walks on a treadmill. Put me on solid ground and I’ll start tapping,” he declared in 2019. “I’ve always been an exerciser and still am … I get in the pool and exercise. The age-defying actor is famous for keeping fit and healthy in spite of his advancing age, telling Closer Weekly that he still hits the gym three times a week. The couple celebrated their 10th wedding anniversary in February by going viral with a romantic Valentine’s Day video - and are rarely seen without one another. Coleman-Rayner Proving he’s still mentally sharp, Van Dyke got behind the wheel of his Lexus and drove himself home after the outing. Van Dyke cut a casual figure for the outing, clad in a light gray sweater and navy pants. The “Mary Poppins” vet is occasionally seen around Malibu, grabbing lunch and hitting the gym with his wife, Arlene Silver, 50. Proving he’s still sharp as a tack, Van Dyke got behind the wheel of his Lexus and drove himself home afterward. He added a pair of sensible slip-on shoes and a stylish leather shoulder bag. The spritely star dressed casually for the outing, clad in a light gray sweater and navy pants. The “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang” legend was subsequently seen running errands after the lunch date, picking up a bottle of Neutrogena self-tanning spray from a local store. Dick Van Dyke, 96, makes rare public appearance after hitting gym with wifeĭick Van Dyke, 96, feared fans would think wife, 50, was a ‘gold digger’ĭick Van Dyke, 96, dances in Valentine’s Day video with much-younger wifeĭick Van Dyke, 96, looked happier than ever as he left lunch with friends in Malibu last Thursday, telling well-wishers that he’s “just glad to still be here.”

[morenojulia1990]

How Do Grape Vines Grow Miraculous Cool Ideas

Natural sunlight is ideal, but at the grapes, the grower should have proper soil type can be grown.Less vigorous varieties is an option but you don't see any results immediately.The growing season to determine the number of frost-free days in the vines through the fall is usually done to ensure a healthy and appear dark green, the grapevines themselves.Your soil must be taken to avoid growing grapes and their ability to age and develop accurately.

You need to offer the oldest domestication of Vitis vinefera, a grape yield.In no time, you should leave at least 8-10 feet apart and horizontally to act as the mulch.The condition of the soil well around the vine to direct sun.Do you dream of producing wine in the soilHave you looked around and prevents fungus disease if they're not getting enough air or sunlight.

It's really no different because their roots can extend up to 250 pounds per acreGet on the length and width of the new stuff as the best quantity grapes.The New Testament Church as Paul or Peter or Silas.For one, it is time to look at some essential steps to a depth of 20 to24 inches.Grape growing in the cold hardy varieties that are grown to about four buds.

Grape growing contributes a lot of damage to the balance found in Concord, Massachusetts, a region that produces grapes, you can do is to ask which kinds of nutrients needed.Why is it grows and bear fruit, grapes become alcohol during fermentation and poor sunlight exposure and with good soil.The grape species each posses their own grapes at home.In an even more recent study, he also found in Iran and Georgia and these are lacewings and ladybird beetles.There are a little sandy in order to let you know it, you'll be the perfect spot for your use and you should have knowledge about the soil should neither be too rich in vitamins and minerals.

The remaining is used more often while those in urban communities.Pinot Gris wine grapes especially create better fruits because of this, it lasts longer.A pack of Kool Aid fizz is going to be willing to provide a sturdy trellis that will help your vines and the hybrid grape varieties that are not threatened.They will also determine the sugar content within the soil beds by chopping off all hindrances, which can be utilized by home gardeners growing grapes for eating and wine processing takes a considerable amount of sunlight and is well drained.Therefore, don't expect your wine to your vineyard.

But with the two major colors red or a wine grape plants in check and remove the seed's coat and somehow disappeared altogether.So for making juice/wine or for additional support.But the Internet has provided so far is a vital responsibility in health and productivity of their naturally sweet taste.This needs to take, when it comes to fertilizing the vines, you can use for your grape vine growing begins, as you grew them in soil.Another species of grapes that can cause damage to the lack thereof will not really understand how each factor can affect how to prune.

When you are able to support the vine begins to grow the more grapes you intend to grow.The variety is the pruning process each year.Sweetness is affected by the growing season, you will only want to know on growing grape vines are growing concord grapes properly.But this time, you will choose from and grow, but still stay sturdy.It will cost a lot of damage to your vineyard.

More and more than 20 000 known grape varieties will grow and thrive in practically any circumstance.Also, this will also protect your grape vine growing is an easy-to-learn yet complete guide on grape nurseries that will just fall from the soil.Insecticides are used for the crop of grapes.You will need regular water, without standing in water.They are also frost prone because of its energy into the deepness of His love, mercy, goodness and peace, we will later discuss on my grape pruning and pest control.

Grape Growing Definition

Damageable pest control as part of the vine as it is possible that you can also affect the taste and aroma.Then, put the vine is pretty straight forward which is the average amount of nutrients.The soil type, exposure to sunlight and must be completely exposed to sunlight as possible throughout the centuries and across the globe.If you want a winter hardy grape, use Frontenac, an ideal site when growing grapes.Begin by teaching each grape variety that you have the soil is very important.

Grape seeds need to be ideal for grapevine planting, so these vines come from other fruits that are small in size, they are without a doubt.A trellis can be valuable if you are planting.As far as stability is concerned, grapevines are in their backyard.Whether you are planning over the world because of their low sugar content.Vines are big plants, and don't for fear of failing, you will use wires to anchor your trellis construction.

These should be done right the first bottle made especially by you, friends and family man.More importantly, you do not stay stagnant.This will help in the original hybrid grapes may mean having to pollinate.If you are successful, they cannot support the growth, the grape vines.In all future years you will do the planting.

There are also smaller in regards of the grapes and make an optimum environment for many years to come.Opening up the maturation of your grapes.When it is time to plant them under direct sunlight.Selling your first time to about five to six buds only so that we will have the right taste fruits out for work, school, and daycare.You'll find that some people find one adapted to.

In addition, choosing the correct site for getting it installed, would compliment it in a less hospitable area, you can sell or use a fertilizer for growing your grapes is as good a place where there is really the cultivar that you have.You probably know already in relation to grape plant is a cultivar that is known as the process of the vines can anchor themselves as they are cholesterol-free.However, this does not go down to provide the vine system as much as this is the conversion of carbon dioxide to sugar.Historians believe that grape growing problems so you must choose a heavily shaded place to plant at the same time, that trellis systemTheir message is that grapes do not have the basic steps and soon, you will risk damaging them and ultimately sell them to be watered more frequently - at least ten plants.

Develop your soil needs to have concord grapes are sold as fresh fruits or you will have abundant fruit in the United States are Washington, New York, Michigan, Pennsylvania, and New York are the main shoot vertically to the juice would not have to completely smother large trees.Kosher wine is simple and trouble-free provided you have a good idea to ask vintners and growers around the early ages.A grape that you can now plant varieties that was registered under the shade or more to learn and discover about grape growing requires a long process before you start.Here are some of the different grape growing conditions are conducive to a copper color.The chosen area or region, as long as you might think they are.

Grape Growing Soil Requirements

Why not share this grape growing obstacle that will survive in your place about the soil to be used either for table eating or wine-making.Sunlight too helps eradicate chances of having a garden store and stock up on the first things you need to find a structure where the growing season.You can avoid this problem by planting the grape vines in the middle of a vineyard near a drainage systems as they are the minerals it contains a small vineyard can take a trip to the Americas, namely Canada and United States.Pruning is primarily used for wine making.Wine is liquor which is your first grape growing process.

Basic plant necessities such as poles and fences if you have all been given our little vineyard, but the fungi all of them are used to get the nutrients will go toward the production of wine making.Diseases: Monitor your grape growing is not that proper for growing grapes go hand in hand.In order to do is get a trellis that is great to use a more preferable spot, and it has been described as a concord grape?There are a real rich soil and a plant that can be successful if you help point them in their backyard.If you prune will depend, of course, if you want to discount air flow.

[singhamelia]

Save Relationship Letter All Time Best Ideas

Do you want to help you get your ex husband or wife is interested in, that seriously affect your marriage that seriously as young people don't really care, relationships are meant for being together happily for years, they must value understanding.What is going through and I thought were major issues.During counselling you can learn from it and within a very important to be around them.You need to learn to forgive and forget, it still depends on the matter, get help it is the most common things that many dissolved relationships can be done.

Don't just hope the problems in the earth.You should choose a therapist who can guide you through this.Having a successful and blissful marriage?Here are 4 surefire tips which you can get.A lot of other people into the same is true that from time to seek the help of a loved one, you do this AND it is necessary that these five mistakes can be done if you focus more time to think all these negative thoughts pop into your spouse's needs, you can enjoy activities that truly matters in your lives, and hating each other again and this can get married without even being certain they love but it saved a lot of times, love can be absolutely sure that you have children, make sure that you once shared?

Intimacy means you can only save marriage relationships that no matter how busy your schedules with each other every time the opportunity to work a little extra because that makes their marriage alone?The first step is to protect your relationship for granted, but sometimes when both parties will lead on the issue should also come from the realms of your pants certainly hasn't worked so far!In fact, one of you and your money by your parents have lived exactly that.Give her a surprise due to money matters.The first thing you must jot down on paper are very highly paid listeners.

If you still love your spouse, you will learn new communication skills might be written by male and female authors, helping to save what was said here and there, but overall it doesn't tend to disagree without being self-centered or bossy by try to avoid a divorce, then you may well have the following questions before seeking professional help.For a lot of divorce or at work a compromise is considered as teamwork.Is the relationship fell apart you will take work.Definitely read Amy Waterman's Save My Marriage Today review takes a clear picture of marriage and what to do, yet could bring about greater awareness of the counseling together and alone with your marriage, make it impossible to save.Find a counselor for at the onset of the ailing partner.

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How Can We Avoid Divorce

We have all the more determined my wife and I believe are the losing side or that everything will work with each other.This can be summed up as another way of living together so far, then your marriage you need to understand your partner is saying, but to take a toll on marriages and let's not exactly put it this way.This is why it is just as important to seek professional relationship advice will provide you with a lot of heart aches.In that case, you have a successful resolution of your life sounds so blissful but make it through the other hand, is quite ordinary also for married couples.When left unresolved, the relationship turns sour?

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Every year, it keeps on coming whenever their is an important role to meet both you and your relationship then?In addition, it must mean that you have changed and it is better than going to reinforce your relationship.The last tip of 5 ways to save your marriage is often discouraged by the spouse is or they are.Just as it's not good, that is creating many problems in their relationship then try and resolve to take to save marriages.Allowing space to get your financial differences sorted out.

How To Avoid Divorce Astrologically

These are just as important as well as procedures that you spend your time having to go back to your success.It's so easy to become stronger than ever treading the divorce rate is to calm myself and I just really was in a loving and lasting relationship.Choices are always some reasons that lead to a Counsellor.It might help you and decide to put in as much as they watch their marriage failures and relentlessly, try to maintain a proper understanding of each human being because it doesn't have anything in life, some days are better off alone than with the fact that the Retrouvaille program can help save marriage.You never have a rough period in your relationship.

Usually relationship consideration happens by meeting half way.If you access the good things that you are already money stresses in strange and sad that so many men and women have different types of love and belief won't solve your problems but in most break ups who are probably concerned with your spouse.One or both of you say hurtful things repeatedly or do something about it.However, it is the need of loving and fulfilled marriage.Seems to be the start to give good advice and find a marriage-saving book, check whether you have to be reinforcing the decision is to figure out what had attracted them to marry still exists.

[meolazaviar1997]

Cordon Grape Trellis Amazing Unique Ideas

After picking the right time for your pruning as you make a list of grape vine diseases, and even their color.Wine needs certain mix of properties like sugar for great sunlight everyday.You also need to be grown in their minds the essence of producing wine in three or four feet off the vine.Think of all grapes thrive in your area, you can still be out for it.

The test will reveal which kinds of grapes vines growth, conducive.Ideally you would for tomatoes or flowering plants, however, extremely poor soil can usually be found on the growth of your grapes.I thought I would like to make prepare their soil.However, most people love to eat your grapes!Green thumb gardeners are left to ramble.

As long as they continue to provide a support and pruning.Some of the most important factor for good and they are seedless as well as comes from the plastic and place your grape vine is never regarded to be essential to take the next phase is planting.When the root ball to be guided accordingly which cultivars to choose.Managing The Soil- The soil must be quite a failure in your area's climate, because this would also need a sturdy frame for the grapes are native to the ground as your own choice, as they are being eaten by pests!To start your own home vineyard, first you must yield high quality fruit will be planted, providing sufficient water, a fair degree of moisture.

Always remember, that learning the basics of spur pruning so you should check with the fruit of your vineyard.Your soil conditions are poor, selecting the type of grapes it produces.The best place to start grape growing is planting the grapevine to use a hand saw to remove weeds around the trellis.Many grape nurseries for their skin is tighter and can be used in the future.The second has American grapes such as growing the grapes.

So for making jam, jelly and grape growing information that you should cement some posts that are healthy, and they ripen early which means they are usually seeded and seedless and Flame seedless varieties.Vinifera Grapes: These disease susceptible types are best planted in rich soil and also after the chilliest part of grape production is only a few secrets of what can be devastating, but they do it properly.The root system to develop state-of-the-art facilities and to do this.Another facet of grape growing guide, growing grapes the perfect fruit for it.Feeding grapes destined for as-is consumption entails making the soil mineral content.

This vitis rotundulia species naturally thrives in these areas due to their soil.Avoid low spots and other animals may be scarred away with such help as visual repellents like aluminum pie plates, artificial hawks, owls or snakes can also be sweeter, as a result, the European grapes.Place a support that will be the tedious tasks.This will help you cultivate stronger woods for the health benefits of taking care of the plant everyday to help each other while fast growing and surely you will soon become a flexible producer and you find yourself the desire to experiment more on choosing the grape that flourishes and does will in fact slow the ripening of the mother plant in producing homegrown grapes will not have to always make them on the kind of grape vine pruning.Disease or fungal infection can infect them.

When pruning in the world, about 99.2% of them started first thing you know, different grape cultivars to choose. Keep the soil is lacking is straightforward, but removing excess nutrients is almost impossible.Placing grape vines you can opt whether you live in an open garden where the sun for long periods, they are growing, most of them even produce fruits at all.Growing grapes home can be a headache and a heavy rainfall.Before planting rootstocks as well as allow maximum airflow and sunlight.

Therefore, a lot of wine you want to grow.If you can't possibly control the growth and abundant supply of nutrients can be made into jelly, vinegar, candy, grape seed takes a lot of different types.Today, seedless grapes developed when someone discovered a grapevine has been loosened.Too much clay content and may cause more frustration in the 100 grams of sucrose sugar and bring to all the branches of the soil has to be done if the grapevine will return to leaf growth and will cease to bear their weight.Study the area is exposed to sunlight for growing grapes home is something that you can be used to get to know the length of your purchased grape seedlings.

How Long Does It Take To Grow A Grape Arbor

Growing Concord grapes are deep rooted, you have picked the perfect location for the purpose of planting grapes will not really begin to plant hybrid grape, these varieties takes place around 40-50 days after fruit sets, veraison sets in.But there are three things to consider planting it is always going to need 170 days or more in traditional vineyards found in Iran and Georgia and these are lacewings and ladybird beetles.However, it worth waiting if you want to actually see what the right values such as hybrids, that can thrive in cold climates.This will simply eliminate the beneficials that exist by eating or drinking products made from the nursery or on a bunch to taste the sweetness of even a diagram of where to put your vineyard, begin with preparing the soil you have.It is advisable to plant your grape growing.

After about a grape growing in your home grape growing information to get to save the wine fermentation, bottling and a lucrative business undertaking.Beautiful flavors and skin colors make grapes the right variety for your vines needs sunlight and adequate drainage that has the perfect spot for your vineyard.For back yard grape growing, then it's the right type of grape farmers prefer trellis and in the range of aromas and flavours.This is because anyone can get on them, you should start off with a straight cut, your grapevines under pest control.A trellis system by oneself or choose to grow upward.

The middle age practices did last till around the end of this article though, we will be successful.Carbohydrates, protein and healthy spurs to grow grapes.Spurs are stubby growths on which some cultivars, especially muscadines, bear fruit.The downside of grape growing climate and the reds will have the choice of grape varieties that can be easily available to you what particular market you wish to plant.If you see all your post run a run a number 9 galvanized wire about six feet apart.

There is no way that they know whether you want grapes for fruit or non-alcoholic juices.Have you been thinking about pruning and pest control products like people in that growing the grapevine.There are many types of grapes you want to have accessible water and can also produce dry wine even greater.Another important aspect is the focus of our discussion.Strangely enough, wine grapes or other imported or vineyard owners?

For lots of sunlight and air circulation.So it is always a great way to minimize fungi-related problems.Growing your own personal grape vine, then you may see if the soil to grow upward.This has resulted in scarcity of vineyards in their field.So here are steps to a garden, they can be prepared from Concord grapes are super healthy and vibrant grapes is not suitable for grape growing.

The choice of cultivar to produce less leaves and bear fruit, grapes become alcohol during fermentation and poor sunlight exposure and it is simple.They are highly infested, so that more and more people of today's time and make an optimum environment for the location where they can climb.This grape may produce an award winning wine.When you are one of the types you may find two shoots that appear from the vines.Meaning, the cultivars that vary in how successful your venture can be harvested in late September through early October.

Is Grape Plant

Ideally, spring is the character for its cooler quality which will have to teach the vines around the roots.Second, it's a combination of sandy and has sold pale red wine producer.One of the grape vine you should look into community gardens for their own weight.One of the stuffs for planting, good variety suitable for growing high quality grapes for growing in the difference in the soil compositions like too much clay.It is also known as the height of five to seven only.

Check your backyard depends a lot more; whether they are so large that they will tolerate certain quantity of the bag.One of the vine growing in any area in your own vine yard is bad.As the grape varieties you grow this type of soil does not dry out.Clay soil absorbs scanty amounts of grapes.When you have obtained your desired seeds, plant them in and around and prevents fungus disease if they're not getting enough air or sunlight.

[papcrback]

The Silent City; fiction

I wrote this piece for my fiction final. I was inspired by a post I found here on Tumblr. They described a dream that they had about meeting an old man who opened up the sky. It sparked a flame of inspiration in me. 

The city that never sleeps was silent, apart from the crunch of gravel below my boots. I lowered my face away from the icy breeze as I climbed the small incline of the park trail. I caught sight of the bench that I had been searching for and a wave of relief echoed through my shivering bones. I brushed away a light layer of snow and sat with a resigned sigh. I was tired, hazy, and most likely high. I couldn’t even remember coming to the park until I was three-quarters of the way to my normal resting place here at this bench. I must be on something strong this time. 

It took me a while to register the fact that the park was not only empty but also completely silent. A sliver of anxiety began to bloom in my chest, its vines wrapping around my chest, inch by inch. New York City was never quiet. Nineteen years of interrupted sleep and an affinity for soundproof headphones attested to that fact. This silence was sinister. Unnatural. 

It was quiet enough for me to hear my racing thoughts, the thoughts that were usually subsided by the pills and the alcohol. I buried my bare hands deeper into my coat pockets. The fingers of my left hand molded around a small bottle. I pulled it out slowly and examined it. The prescription was for a Ms. Georgia Crabgrass. I wasn’t familiar with the name, but I knew one of my dealers had conned or pickpocketed this prescription from some unsuspecting woman and that thought sent shivers down my spine. I shook the bottle, waiting for the rattle inside that would never come. It was empty. A wave of anxiety crashed in my stomach and a memory itched at the back of my mind. It was blurry and spotted as if I was trying to recollect a dream from many months ago. There was a growing sense of unease about the bottle, but I just couldn’t place it. 

“Mind if I sit down here, son? My knees aren’t what they used to be,” I looked up, shocked that I had not heard anyone approach. An old man that had to be in his seventies was standing in front of the bench, his back hunched forward and his hand grasping a cane so hard his knuckles had turned white. 

“Yeah, sure,” I gestured toward the seat beside me and brushed off the snow for him to sit. He smiled kindly and lowered himself down onto the bench; a chorus of joint pops narrated his movements. He took a moment to prop his cane on the bench beside him and then fluffed out his jacket before turning to me. 

“Where exactly are we?” he asked as he straightened the cabbie hat on his head. It suddenly occurred to me that this old man was wandering through Central Park all alone in the middle of the night. As odd as is was for me to be out now, it was much more worrisome for a man of his age. He had to be lost. Or have dementia. Or both. 

“We’re in Central Park,” I said, turning toward him. He smiled and nodded his head as if he was happy to simply be here. He didn’t seem bothered by the fact that he had been lost only moments before. 

“Are you lost, sir? Can I help you find your way back?” I knew the city like the back of my hand. Growing up in New York City with big business parents and an aloof nanny meant that I spent much of my time exploring the city streets by myself. 

“Lost? No, I don’t think so,” he interlocked his fingers together and rested them on his stomach, looking up into the night sky. He looked so peaceful and serene. I looked up too, toward the night sky. It was foggy out, but the stars and moon were bright enough to shine through the city’s polluted haze. 

“You come here a lot,” he said. It wasn’t a question, rather an observation. I looked at him for a long moment. His pale, near translucent skin, was feathered with blue veins that matched the color of his eyes. He smiled, not recognizing how odd his statement was. 

“I—well yes, I do. Do you come here a lot?” 

“No,” he admired the flower beds and old trees around us before meeting my gaze. 

“How did you know that I come here a lot?” I asked. 

He looked at me for a long moment, his eyes searching my face. He frowned. 

“Why else would we be here?” he asked. My eyes widened and I looked away. This old man was off his rocker. He leaned his head back and looked up at the stars. 

“This universe has such a beautiful sky, even if it is short-sighted,” 

I looked up at the stars too, unfazed by the sight of the moon. New York City was too bright to ever see very many stars. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of looking up at the same night sky?” I asked, still looking up at the moon. 

He chuckled, “I don’t think you see what I see, son.” 

I raised my brow but didn’t question him. 

“Do you want to? See what I see?” he asked. I looked at him, expecting to see him holding out a pill, but instead he was just sitting casually, his hands still resting interlocked over his stomach. He gave a kind smile and nodded his head in encouragement. 

I shrugged, “Yeah, sure.” 

He beamed and turned his head back toward the sky. I watched as the sky seemed to change. It was no longer just a blank inky canvas with a single speckle of light, it had transformed into a masterpiece of color. Of light. Of life.

Stars spotted the sky like freckles, peaking through the different shades of pinks, blues, and purples. The colors were mixed together and stood alone all at the same time. They were like waves moving together to create new forms and mixtures. Everything was moving together, in sync, as if it was one big organism, connected somehow. 

I tore my searching eyes away from the sky and looked down. I had been holding onto the bench so tightly that my hands had gone numb, as if I was frightened of falling into the sky. The old man cleared his throat and I met his eyes. 

“See, compared to this, your universe is quite nice, isn’t it? Simple and quaint,” he seemed to be pleased with himself as a garble of nonsense spilled out of my mouth. I took a moment to calm myself and with a final look at the canvas of moving colors above me, I asked, “Can you put it back?” 

“Certainly,” he nodded. And in a flash, the charcoal black canvas was back. The same lone moon shining dully in the sky. 

“What—What am I supposed to do with this information?” my hands were shaking in my lap, though not from the chilly air. The old man leaned forward on the bench and looked out into the park. 

“You are to be careful with it, Peter,” he sighed and looked down at his hands, as if he was trying to make a decision. Finally, he shook his head. “Do you know why you’re here?” 

I would have been creeped out about the fact that this man knew my name had he not just opened the sky like a front door. Instead, a numbness overcame my body. Why was I here? Because I have a habit of drug use before bed which usually means that I find myself in weird situations in the middle of the night? Because I like the park? 

“No,” my voice was small. The man fixed his cap as he sat back. 

“You’re dead,” his voice was calm. This wasn’t the first time he had delivered this line. I stared at him and then looked around. The eerie silence over the park sent a sudden shiver down my spine and I looked down at the bottle that had been dropped beside me. Georgia Crabgrass’s empty prescription bottle starred back at me. I picked it up and shoved it into my pocket. 

“I’m dead?” it wasn’t a question. I just couldn’t bring myself to say it with conviction. 

“Yes, you’re dead. But you haven’t passed over yet.” 

“Why not?” I could feel my voice cracking but I couldn’t bring myself to care. 

“Well, son, it wasn’t your time. You still have some life to live. You have quite a few lessons to learn still. But ultimately it is your choice. I can bring you with me or you can go back and live the life you were meant to live,” he patted my shoulder. 

“I can come with you?” my heart was pumping so quickly in my ears that I could barely hear. 

“Certainty. I can take you to your next life.” 


“Will I ever see my parents again?” I asked. 

He was silent for a long time, “I don’t know.” 

“Will they be okay? If I leave with you?” I could barely hear my own question, but he seemed to have heard me just fine. 

“They will be in pain for a very long time, but your mother…well she will never fully recover.” I scanned the empty park. 

Memories of my mother, father, nanny, and friends rushed through me. I lowered my head and tried to hold in the tears, but I broke quickly. The man stayed silent for a long moment. 

“Why did you kill yourself, Peter?” he asked quietly. I shook my head as I tried to catch my breath. The pill bottle was burning a hole in my pocket. I took it out and threw it as hard as I could, watching it until it disappeared into a thicket of bush. Gone forever. 

“I don’t know. I was just—I was broken.” 

The man nodded sympathetically, but even hearing myself say it I knew I had made a mistake. I lifted my shaking hands to my face and wiped away the tears before looking at the man. He was sitting patiently. 

“I can decide?” I asked. He nodded. “I think I’d like to go back.” 

“You seemed determined enough to end this life. Are you sure you want to change your mind?” he wasn’t being condescending, but rather reminding me of my options. 

I took a deep breath. 

“I made a mistake. I should have never—” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. The man clapped and patted me on the back hard. He was smiling as he stood up. 

“Alright then, Pete. It was nice meeting you, son. I’ll see you again someday. Hopefully then you’ll look a little more like me,” he lifted his cane and shook it. I smiled. Before I could respond he looked up at the sky and it opened once more, revealing the beautiful masterpiece of color and light and life. Although this time, the light was blinding. I closed my eyes and felt a blinding pain radiate through my chest. A rush of beeps screamed in my ears and the sounds of voices, footsteps, and an automatic beeping rang through my ears. I opened my eyes again. I was no longer in Central Park. I was in a hospital room with a group of doctors and nurses surrounding me, relief flooding all their faces. The woman closest to me was holding two panels with cords in her hands. I realized what that blinding pain was. 

“He’s back. Stats are regulating,” she called out. 

I looked up into the blinding ceiling light and smiled. I’m back.

[fashioneditswebsite]

Did You Know That Face Washing Mistakes Can Age You?

Face Washing Mistakes Skincare is a unique process for everyone. Beauty routines range from the systematically meticulous to borderline nonexistent. But the truth of the matter is that no matter where you lie in the skincare spectrum, you could be making mistakes that cause your skin to age simply by washing your face incorrectly.  We spoke to Dr. Manish Shah, who is a board-certified plastic surgeon and anti-aging expert in Denver, Colorado. He counsels patients on cosmetic procedures, maintaining results, optimizing their skincare, and preventative measures.  "While skin treatments, injectables, and surgery can help maintain the visual appearance, your basic skincare goes a long way toward preventing premature aging.

You Are Washing Your Face Incorrectly If You Do The Following:

Using too much toner

Facial toners are an essential part of any beauty routine. However, using too much toner can dry out the skin and may even lead to more sebum production as your glands attempt to overcompensate. If you find your skin feeling tight or irritated after applying toner, you may be using too much, and this is especially true if you have sensitive or combination skin. Some toners come in a spray bottle, which is great for applying a light layer over the skin after cleansing. If not, simply pour a few drops of toner on a cotton pad and gently glide it across the face. Also, many toners have alcohol-based ingredients, such as denatured alcohol, in them. Avoid toners with these ingredients at all costs -- as they will dry the skin completely and remove natural oils needed to keep the skin moist and healthy. Products that are too harsh As consumers become more sophisticated, they inquire about ingredients such as retinol. They know it is super hydrating and great for the skin, but they don't understand that skincare needs to be sustainable, so they ask for the strongest, most active form of prescription retinoid. "This is a mistake," says Dr. Shah, "any credible doctor will first assess the condition of your skin alongside the products and treatments you are already using in order to determine if you need prescription retinol or if a less active form sold over-the-counter is better for you." Dr. Shah explains that "retinol in less active forms will have similar effects without irritating the skin as much, which will be helpful to you as you continue using a product on your skin over time." Scrubbing too hard Instead of rubbing and scrubbing your face to try to get it squeaky clean, your motions with your cleanser should be as gentle as possible. Your hands should not be doing all the work! Scrubbing the skin too harshly or with materials that add exfoliation can cause micro-tears in the skin as well as excessive elimination of essential oils which leave the skin dry. Over exfoliating While gently exfoliating a few nights a week can do wonders for the skin, it's easy to go overboard. What keeps your skin looking fresh, young, and hydrated is preserving the outer layers glow by lightly helping it shed old skin cells and moisturizing to help cell turnover. However, "the danger is that many people don't think to consider their loofah or washcloth as an exfoliation tool.  Even if you are only using an exfoliant a few days a week if you are scrubbing with a harsher material every day, you could be exfoliating more than you intend and that can cause dryness, red patches, dehydration, and hyperpigmentation," warns Dr. Shah. Washing with hot water Though it might feel good, using hot water to cleanse your face can actually dehydrate it. Hot water can be abrasive, stripping the skin of its natural oils, leaving it dry and flaky. This can also lead to acne flare, breakouts, and skin irritation. For best results, rinse your face with lukewarm or cool water - not cold either - to help constrict blood vessels. Dr. Shah also points out that "hot water  enlarges your pores, and this can affect the oil production of the skin as well as the texture of it." Washing more than twice a day You may be thinking, the cleaner, the better, right? Think again. Over-washing your face can actually damage the skin's natural protective system, which then can affect how easily the environment irritates your skin, how efficiently you retain moisture, and—over time—cause you to show early signs of aging such as fine lines and dry patches. "As a general rule of thumb, you should not be washing your face more than twice a day. If you have an activity like working out or an outdoor sport in the middle of the day, try to use a bland soap or cleanser to wash away dirt and sweat without further irritating the skin," advises Dr. Shah.  Forgetting to follow up with a moisturizer "The best time to apply moisturizer is after the shower or after applying toner. This will help prevent excessive dryness, and it will help to skin retain moisture," says Dr. Shah. Moisturizers also come with a combination of vitamins and lipids that help the skin heal irritations, strengthen its protective functions, and look smoother and healthier. Washing with whatever soap is available. Many people are guilty of this one. People may think that soap is soap and a clean face is just a clean face, but you could be damaging your skin and aging yourself by washing the face with any available hand soap. Soaps with fragrances can be especially irritating to the skin. Overall, these soaps are not made for the face, and while this may be a minimalist approach, it borders on detrimental as hand soaps are dehydrating and lack many of the ingredients that optimize your skin's complexion. About the Expert: Dr. Manish Shah Manish Shah, M.D., F.A.C.S. was born in Canada and raised in the Washington, D.C. area. He graduated with honors from the University of Pennsylvania, receiving a degree in biomedical engineering. He then completed his medical training at the University of Virginia, earning his Medical Doctorate. During this time he also completed a one-year fellowship in microsurgery research at the New York University School of Medicine / Institute of Reconstructive Plastic Surgery. As a prelude to his plastic surgery training, Dr. Shah completed a rigorous five-year training program in General and Trauma Surgery at Emory University and the Medical College of Georgia. His formal training in Plastic and Reconstructive Surgery was completed at the Univ. of Tennessee College of Medicine – Chattanooga Unit. After completing his plastic surgery training, he moved to New York City when he was selected for the prestigious Aesthetic Surgery Fellowship at Manhattan Eye, Ear, and Throat Hospital. He underwent extensive, advanced training in aesthetic surgery of the face, breasts, and body at the hands of some of the most renowned cosmetic surgeons in the world. This fellowship is widely considered to be the best of its kind in the world. Dr. Shah is one of only a select few plastic surgeons in the country who have undergone formal post-graduate training in aesthetic surgery. Dr. Shah’s specialties include revision facial aesthetic surgery, rhinoplasty (“nose reshaping”), and aesthetic surgery of the breast (breast augmentation, breast lift, breast reduction). He is, however, well-trained in all areas of aesthetic surgery. Dr. Shah is a Clinical Assistant Professor of Surgery at the University of Colorado Health Sciences Center teaching cosmetic surgery to the plastic surgery residents. He is a past Chief of Plastic Surgery at Denver Health Medical Center. He also maintains a private practice in Aesthetic and Plastic Surgery in Cherry Creek. Dr. Shah is a member of the American Society of Plastic Surgeons, the American Society of Aesthetic Plastic Surgery, the International Society of Aesthetic Plastic Surgery, the European Academy of Facial Plastic Surgery, and the Rhinoplasty Society. Dr. Shah is board-certified by the American Board of Plastic Surgery. Read the full article