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the-iceni-bitch · 3 years

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All I Need

Pairing: Andy Barber x Fem!Reader

Words: 4512

Summary: Andy has been drowning his grief at your bar for weeks. You help him dry out after a particularly bad night.

Warnings: Major angst!, softish Andy Barber, slight AU (spoilers for Defending Jacob book), explicit language, explicit sexual content (fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse), descriptions of excessive drinking by adult of appropriate age, SMUT, 18+ only!

A/N: I have officially jumped on the love train for everyone’s favorite floofy lawyer. The sad!boi activated my caretaker instincts so this is pretty soft compared to my normal fics, and extremely angsty. Plus the smut kind of got away from me, I actually had to stop myself from writing even more!

Checkout my masterlist and join my taglist if your inclined!

“Shit!! Jesse!” you screamed over your shoulder towards the kitchen, grabbing the bat from under the register as you jumped over the bar to break up the fight.

You swore under your breath as you moved toward the two men who were brawling. The smaller one seemed to have the upper hand, but it didn’t seem like the larger man was putting up much resistance. Maggie just stood there watching them with bambi eyes as you heard your giant cook rumble behind you, ripping off his apron to lend you a hand.

“What the fuck happened, Mags?” You hissed at your bartender, trying to haul the men apart with little success.

“Neal just came over and said he was sorry, and he just lost it.” The poor girl looked like she was on the verge of tears. Granted, she probably wasn’t expecting to have to deal with brawls in downtown Newton at a lawyer bar, but Neal sure seemed to invite violent reactions whenever he opened his stupid mouth.

You lost your patience and smashed an empty glass on the floor next to the two men, shocking them out of it. Neal rose to his feet with a look of fury on his face, but you kept your eyes on Andy Barber.

He’d spent pretty much every night this week since the funeral at your bar. His face was pallid and he had dark rings under his eyes. He was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, and he smelled like stale bourbon. Now he was rolling around on the floor aimlessly like a slug.

“Get the fuck out of my bar, Neal.” You said exasperatedly, spying the mostly empty bottle of bourbon on Barber’s table.

“What, I didn’t do anything!” the giant whined at you.

“Really?! You couldn’t just leave the poor guy alone? Jesus Neal! I don’t wanna see you in here for a month.” You hooked your arms under Andy’s and dragged him to sit on the bench, his head lolling drunkenly on his neck as you tried to assess how far gone he was.

“Fuck you, bitch.” Neal spat at you as he turned on his heel and stormed out, slamming the front door behind him.

“Have a great night!” You called after him, sarcastically, flipping him off.

“You sure that’s a good idea, boss?” Jesse asked, his massive arms crossed over his chest as he shook his head at you.

“Who cares, I hate that smug asshole. Hey, Andy?” You snapped your fingers in front of his face and he slapped your hand away lazily, growling under his breath. “You sneak behind the bar again, man?”

“I swear, I didn’t sell him a bottle, Y/N.” Her chin was quivering as tears slowly leaked down her cheeks.

“I know Mags, he’s a sneaky bastard. Don’t worry, sweetie, you’re not in any trouble. Go to the bathroom and splash some water on your face.” You watched her scurry off to the bathroom and rubbed a hand over your face. “Fuck. I’m gonna call in Emma to give Maggie a hand. You ok locking up tonight Jess?”

“Sure, what’re you thinking?”

You just stared at Andy with overwhelming pity as he almost slid of the bench, forcing you to keep a steadying hand on his shoulder. “I’m gonna take him back to his hotel and help him dry out. Wouldn’t feel right just kicking him to the curb.”

“You’re too soft, Y/N.” Jess chortled at you.

“Yeah, maybe. Can you bring me an ice bucket?” You hooked his arm over your shoulder and hauled him to his feet so you could make your way out to your car.

Jess got your bucket from behind the bar as you hobbled outside. You managed to get your passenger door open and you slid Andy inside. His head rolled on his shoulders as you buckled him in before shoving the bucket into his lap.

“Andy, can you hear me? Don’t you fucking puke in my car!”

He grunted in acknowledgment and wrapped his arms around the bucket, curling himself over to hang his head above it.

“You sure you shouldn’t be taking him to a hospital, Y/N?”

“No… mmph… no fucking hospital!” Andy slurred at you as you slammed the door closed.

“I’m pretty sure he’d jump out of the car if he thought I was taking him to the hospital Jess.” You murmured as you circled to the driver’s side. “Thanks for closing, you’re the best!”

You watched him wave in your rearview as you drove off, making sure to keep one eye on Andy as he groaned over his bucket.

You reached his hotel in 15 minutes, grateful for the short drive as the man was looking greener by the second. You dug your hands in the pockets of his coat, searching for the keys to his room and you thankfully found them quickly. You were relieved to see he was on the first floor, as you didn’t trust your ability to safely get him up the stairs.

Getting Andy out of your car was a deal harder than getting him in, as he slipped further into his alcohol induced stupor. You almost dropped him when you wrenched him out of his seat, and you basically carried him to his room.

You somehow managed to get the door unlocked and drag him inside right when you heard his stomach roil. You cursed under your breath as you scrambled to get him to the bathroom, shoving his head in the toilet just in time as he emptied his gut.

“Shit, Andy.” You hissed, your hands on your knees as you tried your best to breathe deeply and get accustomed to the scent of his alcohol-soaked stomach contents. Once you were sure he was relatively stable, you moved to the kitchenette and filled a glass with tepid water before returning to find him leaned back against the wall. “Drink.” You ordered, kneeling beside him and bringing the glass up to his lips.

His eyes locked onto yours as he chugged the water down greedily. No sooner had he swallowed the glass’ contents than he was lunging forward to throw it back up. You tutted worriedly as you rubbed a hand over his back and used the other to start the shower.

“Why the fuck are you here, Y/N?” He grumbled miserably, not bothering to lift his head as you dragged his coat over his shoulders and threw out into the living area.

“I couldn’t have you killing yourself in my bar, Andy. Where’s your phone?” His stomach seemed to have calmed down, so you drew him to lean back against the wall and started to tug off his boots.

“S’in my back pocket.” He slurred at you. You rolled him over and drew the phone out of his jeans to set it on the counter. “You could’ve let me do it here.”

“Nah.” You said. “If you quit coming around, what excuse am I gonna have to kick Neal out?” You rolled up your sleeves and thrust your hand under the shower’s flow, checking the temperature. “Hey, don’t you dare pass out on me!” You slapped him in the face as he started to doze off and you worked on getting him undressed. “I’m fucking serious, Barber, you don’t get to drink yourself to death on my watch.” You finally got his shirt off and started to drag his jeans down his legs.

“But why?” His eyes were boring into you now, pleading for some kind of answer to what possible reason there was for him to stick around as they welled up with tears.

You chewed your lip as you thought about it.

Andy had been a fixture at your bar for years. Always coming by for a celebratory drink after a win, or when he was working late on a difficult case. Even during Jacob’s trial, he’d stopped by with Joanna a few times to hash out details of the case. No matter how much stress he was under, you were always able to make him smile, and he always left a very generous tip no matter who was serving him. Your bar had been one of the only places he’d always felt welcome, and you had no qualms about kicking out anyone who wanted to give him a hard time.

Then the crash happened. He lost Jacob first; he was DOA to the hospital. His visits to your bar were more somber then. You didn’t try to make him smile, you barely even talked to him. But you’d drink with him in silence when he was the last patron in the bar, sitting across from him in his booth as the rest of the staff shut things down, occasionally placing your hand over his and rubbing your thumb over his knuckles in a comforting gesture.

They had taken Laurie off life support 2 weeks ago, and after her funeral was when he really started to spiral. Rather than nursing his usual three drinks, he was downing whole bottles a night. You had to instruct your staff to cut him off after 6, or he would end up like he was tonight. This wasn’t the first time you had caught him with a stolen bottle.

You couldn’t say why you cared so much. You weren’t even sure you were really friends. But through everything that happened, you seemed to be the only constant, an anchor point for him as his world fell apart.

“I dunno Andy.” You murmured as you drew off his socks before rolling him into the tub with a lurch, making him gasp as the cold water hit his skin. “I guess I’d miss you.”

He glared at you as he shivered under the shower’s stream, huddled around himself in only his boxers.

“Do I need to wash you, or do you think you can handle that on your own?” You asked, handing him a washcloth and some soap.

“I can handle it.” He hissed, snatching them from your hands as he braced himself against the wall and drew himself slowly to his feet.

“Good.” You started gathering up his soiled clothes. “Make sure to wash the vomit out of your beard.”

He ripped the shower curtain closed and tossed his boxers over the rail at you, grumbling the whole time. You bagged up his dirty laundry and set some clean sweats on the counter in the bathroom before you set to work on cleaning the rest of the hotel room, doing your best not to gag at the week-old takeout containers.

Andy staggered out of the bathroom 30 minutes later, rubbing a towel through his hair as he wobbled on still drunk legs.

“How’s your stomach?” You asked, stretched out on the couch and sipping a glass of ginger ale.

“S’better.” He murmured, stumbling his way to the bed and collapsing on it with a groan.

“And your head?”

“Fuck you.” He murmured with his face buried in the pillows.

You grabbed the garbage can from the bathroom and set it next to the bed. “Make sure you sleep on your side or your stomach. I’ll be on the couch.” You turned to leave and he grabbed your wrist, pulling you back.

“No, stay with me.” He mumbled, peeking up at you through those stupid long eyelashes, his damp hair drooping over his forehead.

“You’re still drunk, Andy.” You scolded, snatching your wrist away from him. You couldn’t deny you’d thought about it before, but there was no way you were going to let him make a move on you after the night he had. “I’m just 20 feet away, here to make sure you don’t choke on your own vomit overnight.”

You turned back to find him passed out, a thin trail of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. You rolled your eyes and turned off the lights before collapsing on the couch in a huff.

Andy woke up to the smell of sausage and eggs as you slammed the hotel room door, carrying some takeout from the greasy spoon down the road.

“Shit, I was hoping to sneak out before you were up.” You murmured as he rose up off the bed, his bedhead a sight to behold. “I got you breakfast.”

“What happened last night?” He groaned, his stomach churning as he inhaled the smell of the food you had brought in.

“Well, you stole a bottle of Woodford Reserve from my bar, drank more than half of it, then fought Neal.” You shoved a plate of food in front of him as he sat down at the island. “Then I brought you back here and held your hair while you puked your guts out.”

“Fuck.” He murmured, fighting the urge to gag as he eyed the plate in front of him. “How did I get in these sweats?”

“Don’t worry, I dumped you in the shower in your boxers, no looks at the goods. And even if I had, last night was decidedly unsexy.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry.” He murmured, burying his head in his hands.

“Mmhmm. Eat.” You ordered, making him groan. “Suck it up, Barber, you’ll feel better after a couple of bites.” You watched him shovel a bite in his mouth and chew dutifully, taking a deep breath as you steeled yourself for what you wanted to say. “Are you talking to anyone, Andy?”

“’M talking to you.” He said around his second mouthful off breakfast, starting to feel a bit better.

“I mean like a shrink.” You said, seriously.

“What the fuck is this?” He threw his fork down on his plate, pissed. This was none of your business.

“Andy, you’ve been drinking yourself stupid every night for the past 2 weeks. It’s not healthy, and I don’t want to be responsible for you ruining your life.”

He gave you a snort of derision and rolled his eyes as he stood up to walk away. “Fuck off.”

“Hey!” now you were angry. “I care about you asshole! You think I enjoyed last night? I’m sick of it!” You followed after him, grabbing his shoulder and turning him around sharply.

“It’s not your problem, Y/N.” He seethed at you, ripping your hand off his shoulder as he took a menacing step towards you.

“You made it my problem when you decided to use my bar as the stage for your descent to rock bottom, dick!” You were yelling now. “Y’know what, fuck this. Figure your shit out Barber. Until then, don’t step foot in my bar.” You stormed out, slamming the door behind you as you slipped your coat back over your shoulders.

“Fuck!!” Andy screamed before charging after you.

He managed to catch up to you as you were about to open your car door and he slammed it shut over your shoulder, pinning you against the driver’s side of your vehicle.

“I swear to god, Andy, I’ll mace you.” You hissed at him, turning as you dug your hand in your bag. He wrapped a massive hand around your wrist, stopping your turn halfway.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured, pressing his forward to yours as he leaned against you. “I need you.”

“Andy…” this was such a bad idea.

“Why’d you stay last night?” He muttered, bringing his hand down to cup your cheek. “You said you care about me.”

“I do care, Andy.” You sighed as he took another step into you, pressing his body against yours. “Fuck, what’re you doing?”

“Stay.” He whispered, dipping his face to catch your lips with his and sending every objection you had right out of your head.

You sighed against him as you wrapped your hands in his hair, rolling your body against his. He ran his tongue over your bottom lip before pressing it against yours, his hands moving down to your hips and drawing you into him. You let out a whine as you felt his growing erection grinding against you.

“Shit.” You hissed as you felt a rush of arousal soak your panties. “Andy, we need to go back to the room.”

“Right.” He muttered, deepening your kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck and he lifted you off the ground as he drew you away from your car and started to head back towards the room, thankful he had left the door ajar.

You kicked the door closed as he carried you inside, giving a small huff when he sat down on the bed with you straddling his lap. You slipped your coat over your shoulders and tossed it aside as his mouth devoured yours, lips molding to each other as your tongues tangled.

Andy slipped his fingers under the hem of your tee and drew it over your head, throwing it on top of your jacket before unclasping the front of your lacy bra and nuzzling himself between your breasts. He rolled the two of you gently until he was on top of you.

You sighed as Andy moved his mouth over the slope of your breast to wrap his lips around one of your nipples, sucking softly as he moved one hand to dip beneath the waistline of your jeans. He groaned against your chest when he found you sopping wet for him.

“God, I need you, sweetheart.” He mumbled against your skin as he worked at unbuttoning your fly, dragging your jeans and panties down your legs and flinging them aside before bringing his hand back up to cup your heat. “Need to make you feel good. Lose myself in you for just a bit.” He moved his lips up to brush against your neck as he rubbed his fingers through your folds, spreading your slick over your mound and making you gasp, your fingers gripping his massive biceps tightly as he teased you.

“Andy, please.” You whined, canting your hips into his hand, your clit throbbing with need as the pads of his fingers brushed against it.

He brought his face up to yours as he plunged one thick finger into you, a smile teasing his lips as he watched your face screw up in bliss. He dipped his lips to meet yours as he added another finger, swallowing your small cry.

“You feel so good, beautiful. So warm and tight.” He scissored his fingers inside of you, drawing lewd squelches from your canal as your arousal soaked his hand. “Fuck me, you’re perfect.”

You scrabbled your hands over the broad muscles of his back as he curled his fingers inside you, massaging that soft, spongy muscle deep within your canal. He buried his face in your neck, murmuring soft praises as you came apart beneath him.

You mewled as he inserted a third finger, your cunt clenching around him as you thrust yourself onto his hand, fucking yourself on his digits.

“You close love?” He asked, his thumb brushing against your clit before he started massaging it gently. Pressing soft circles into your core as you writhed beneath him.

“Oh, fuck.” You muttered. “fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck……”

He felt you tense underneath him when he drove his thumb into your clit, hard. You choked on your tongue as every muscle in your body vibrated with pleasure, your release gushing over Andy’s hand and soaking him to the wrist. He felt your nails digging through his sweatshirt as you came.

He kept his fingers moving inside you as your rode out your orgasm, your body rolling in waves underneath him as your pleasure wracked you, leaving you breathless. Once you sagged back against the bed, he withdrew them, disconnecting from you reluctantly to remove his own clothes. Staring down at you, all he wanted was to press himself against every inch of you. Claim every slope and curve of your body for his own.

He gripped one ankle and brought it up to his mouth, skimming his lips over the jut of bone as his fingers skirted over your calf, pressing into the firm muscle there. His lips followed his fingers, searing your skin with each lingering kiss and brush of his tongue as he worked his way further up your leg. Your cunt clenched around nothing when he reached your thigh, his beard scratching at the soft skin between your legs as he marked you with lips and teeth. You tangled your fingers in the blankets and moaned when he bypassed your core, moving up the line of your hip as he claimed you.

Your breath was coming quicker as worked his way over your body. His lips swept against your abdomen now, his tongue dipping into your navel as he nuzzled over the midline of your torso. All you could focus on was the feel of his mouth on your skin, leaving a trail of electricity as marked you as his. He laved his tongue over first one nipple, then the other as you arched into him, pressing your thighs together as your pussy throbbed with need.

He moved to trace the curves of your shoulders, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed his way down first one arm, then the other. You were panting now, your thighs soaked as arousal seeped out of you. Andy traced his fingers over your torso, skimming over the slopes of your breasts as he moved to kiss the curve of your neck, sucking gently to draw light bruises as his hands moved lower, kneading into your hips. He drew your knees apart slowly, slotting himself between your thighs as he dragged his hard length through your folds, making you keen as he ground into you.

You were a mess, your breath coming in ragged gasps as his hips rocked against you. You were desperate for release, every inch of you tingling with need and when Andy’s cock brushed against your clit, you lost it. You threw your head back in ecstasy as your fingers scrabbled in the sheets, desperate to hold onto something to keep you anchored.

Andy just stared at you, one massive palm cupping your cheek as he watched you falling apart. He needed you so much, you were the only constant he had. The only person who didn’t make him feel like a charity case or a failure. He hated what he was becoming, what the secrets and the tragedy were turning him into, but he knew if you stayed with him, he could come back.

“Y/N,” He whispered as you relaxed and he stilled his hips, his thumb tracing your cheekbone as you slowly opened your eyes, gazing up at him through your lust blown pupils. “Promise you won’t leave me.”

“Andy,” a small voice in the back of your mind was trying to warn you, telling you not to commit to anything now while he was still drowning in his grief. But you were overwhelmed with the pleasurable assault he had subjected you to and when he pressed his lips to yours again, that little voice went away. “I promise.” You gasped when he released you.

He grinned at you as he lined himself up, resting his forehead against yours as he gazed into your eyes. You were so wet that he slid into you easily, bottoming out right away with a hiss.

“Fuck, honey.” He murmured against your lips as you whined, his hips setting a languorous pace as he pulled out halfway before thrusting back into you. “God, you’re so tight, you feel amazing.”

You couldn’t reply, you could already feel another orgasm building as you thrust your hips to meet his, mewling softly as the warm coil in your stomach tightened. You ran your fingers over his auburn beard before burying them in his hair, panting into his mouth as he brought you closer to the edge.

Andy brought one hand between the two of you and strummed his thumb against your clit, making you tighten your fists in his hair until it was painful.

“God, Andy, right there.” You sobbed, your cunt clamping around him as he moved to bury his face in your neck, nuzzling against the hollow behind your ear.

“Go ahead, beautiful.” He scraped his teeth over the edge of your jaw as he drove his thumb against you, and you screamed.

You fluttered around him as your body spasmed, multiple waves of pleasure rippling through you. Your knees gripping around his hips and squeezing as your torso rolled against his. You sank back against the bed with a sigh as your body relaxed, Andy still fucking into you and starting to pick up speed.

“I’m gonna move you, pretty girl.” He wrapped his arms around you and rolled until you were on top of him, pressing you against his chest as he kissed you deeply. “Wanna watch you ride me.”

You gave him a smile as you sat up, bracing your hands against his chest as you ground yourself against him. He was seated in you deeper than anyone had ever been, his cock dragging against that secret spot inside you with each drive of your hips, making you groan. He thrust up into you and groaned at the bounce of your tits while you let out a cry at his tip hitting your cervix.

Andy dug his fingers into your hips as he took over, pistoning up into with increasing speed as your cunt clamped around him. Your head rolled loosely on your shoulders as you let go, eyes fluttering as you felt another orgasm gathering.

You gripped his hips tightly with your thighs as it hit you like a truck, sobbing with pleasure while your muscles shivered over him. Andy sat up quick and caught you before you could collapse back on the bed, wrapping one hand around the back of your neck and catching you lips with his as his hips picked up even more speed.

“Shit.” He murmured against your lips. You felt his cock twitch inside you as his hips faltered in their rhythm. “Are you on the pill honey?”

You nodded vigorously, unable to speak as Andy’s violent thrusts had knocked all the breath out of your lungs and you were gasping.

“Good. Fuck.” He nipped at your lips before shoving his tongue down your throat.

You felt warmth spread through your abdomen as he shot his release into you, his thick spend coating the slick walls inside you and leaking out over your thighs as he fucked you through it. He slowed his thrusts as you felt him soften inside you, groaning into your mouth as he came down and collapsed back against the bed, holding you close to his chest.

His chest hair scratched against your cheek as he breathed deeply, trying to slow his heart rate back down and rubbing his fingers over your spine as you panted on top of him.

Neither of you spoke for a while, content to lie in the comfort of each other’s arms. You made Andy feel safe, and he made you feel needed, and that was all the two of required for now.

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oliviayamaoka · 3 years

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Evan MacMillan (Trapper) x reader continuation

It had been nearly a year since you were released from the realms. But, despite the time, the trauma and nightmares never went away. You heard the familiar chuckle of the Nightmare when you fell asleep, you’d hear the Clown laughing, and the Huntress humming when you were in public. None of it was real of course but it still stuck with you. Sometimes you wondered how the other survivors dealt with the aftermath of stuff. How was Evan?

Evan. You researched the MacMillan Estate, it was real. In this reality but you weren’t sure about the time periods you were taken from. You planned to go eventually but returning from the realms was overwhelming. Seeing your family and friends again was amazing but you also needed to catch up with life. You were gone for a total of four years yet never aged. You tried explaining to your family what happened but they didn’t believe you. And now, you were in therapy. The cops also asked you questions and assumed it was a case of trafficking or a kidnapping. Still, they refused to acknowledge the fact you didn’t age. Time was a strange concept nowadays.

However, none of this stopped you from loving Evan. You knew he was real and you could never forget the pain the Entity brought down on you. You took notes and planned to drive to Washington without a word. You would have gone sooner but your family kept you off the grid due to the things you’d shout in your sleep and the whole story behind the realms. It was understandable yet frustrating. It angered you to think everything you went through was invalid. It made you feel even more alone now, knowing that nobody else knows what happened in those realms. Nobody knew what it was like.

Y/N sighed as she slid on her coat over her sweater. It was a cold day but it was now or never. You had a good dream last night, it was about Evan. Your lips curved into a happy yet solemn smile as you thought about the idea of spending your life with him. The two of you talked about it while in the realms. You never really thought about romance or the idea of spending your life with somebody until you met him. It was bizarre, falling in love with somebody who was supposed to make your trials a living hell. The Trapper, they called him. Y/N got into her car, still thinking about him. The smile never left her face. She had only hoped that Evan was from this timeline but didn’t keep her hopes high since she met Laurie and Steve, people from the 70′s and 80′s. It was a crazy experience.

Hours Later

The MacMillan Estate. You broke into a cold sweat as you lifted your hood over your head, exiting your car. Y/N was happy to have finally found it but the memories of being hooked and tortured were still fresh. Your eyes shut as you took a deep breath to relax yourself, no killer can hurt you now. Nobody ever will. Your hand subconsciously rested on the side of your chest where you’d have been hooked over a hundred times.

Your eyes opened after a moment. You had to be brave, to see what became of this place and if Evan was here. Your eyes averted towards the gate. Y/N walked towards it. It was chained but loose. During your research, you learned teens would come to look around the place. Y/N’s hands fumbled with the old chains before finally being able to pull them out of the gate’s handles. The gates were pulled opened and Y/N took a step inside. It felt too surreal to see the familiar buildings and the brick walls you’d vault over. The only difference being was that there wasn’t a killer shack or any hooks anywhere. It was evening yet it wasn’t as blue as the realms version of the place.

Y/N shut her phone off as it vibrated and kept her hands in her pockets as she walked through the Estate. She smiled as she recalled a funny encounter with Yui and Feng, the three of them would joke around and make the best out of their situation whilst working on a generator near the coal tower. Another memory popped up, she remembered talking with Felix about the architecture of McMillan Estate. He said the place was fixable. It was funny because Evan saw nothing wrong with the place. Y/N unknowingly chuckled as she walked towards the main building, thinking about the good times she had with the others. It was nice to recall those memories, she hoped her friends were dealing with the situation well.

You stopped near a old workshop table and noticed a metal welding mask. Y/N was quick to pick it up and observe it. Evan would sometimes wear these masks to trials but he only wore it when fixing traps or making them. Your thumb brushed against the metal feeling of it, it was old. As you held it, you observed the rest of the items that were on the workshop table. There were some old blueprints and other stuff. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat when she saw the initials ‘E.M’ written on one of the tools. Your eyes rested in relief as you got some sort of confirmation he did truly exist. Still, your eyes watered in both relief and sorrow. You longed for his touch, for his firm hold on you to keep you from going crazy again.

“Come back to me.” You whispered as you wiped away your tears.

You took a few moments to yourself, holding the mask close to your chest. Y/N sighed deeply before turning around with it still in hand. You figured you should do some more investigating.

“You’re on private property.” A gruff voice from behind you said. Y/N gasped in shock, not expecting anybody to be around.

You whipped around, dropping the mask, Your heart was already pounding. The person had given you a good scare, YN’s hands trembled but quickly stopped when she made eye-contact with the much taller man. His expression also seemed to drop when he was able to see the hooded person’s face. It was Evan. Your mind was processing a million things in the moment as the two of you stared at one another in shock.

“Y/N...?” He asked lowly, having his own doubts about timelines and realities.

“Evan.” You managed to say as his expression lit up. Through your tears, you laughed in joy and relief. It really was him.

Without any second thought, you both rushed towards one another. He hugged you tightly as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Y/N smiled widely as tears streamed down her face. Oh, how you missed his firm hold on you. Evan was still somewhat in shock but he kissed your head. He missed your scent and the feeling of you in his arms, safe and loved.

Y/N looked up at him, cupping his cheek in her hand. Your thumb brushed against his upper cheek, it was an amazing feeling that consisted of sweet relief and tenderness. No Entity. no interruptions. Nothing. Just you and Evan at last. There was a look of sadness and love in Evan’s eyes. All that mattered to him now was that you were here with him.

“I couldn’t find you and I wasn’t sure if...” He said to you in awe.

“It’s fine, it’s okay.” You say to him as you both lean in for a kiss afterwards.

The kiss was passionate and long. Your hand rested over his on your lower cheek. After the moment had passed, you both pulled away but never broke eye-contact. A single tear fell down his cheek. You’d never seen Evan cry, even if it was just one tear. He kissed the palm of your hand as you smiled warmly.

“I missed you so much, Evan... I-I wasn’t sure if we were in different time periods or whatever. I would’ve came sooner but my family was being crazy and I-“ You said as he interrupted you.

“That doesn’t matter anymore... You’re here now.” He said to you.

All you did in response was smile widely in happiness and hugged him tightly as he lifted you up, twirling slightly. It was such a rewarding feeling, finding him again and not feeling so alone.

Evan felt the same. A part of him felt empty after being released from the Entity. He felt relieved he didn’t have to be tortured by it again to hurt people. Especially you. It took him a bit to get adjusted to being back in the real reality. He never did stop thinking about you.

Maybe you could indeed live the life you two fantasized about whilst stuck in the realms. Either way, only time will tell.

#dbd trapper #dead by daylight fanfic #trapper x reader #the trapper #x reader #dead by daylight #evan macmillan x reader #evan macmillan

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prurientpuddlejumper · 3 years

Text

You’re a Mean One, Mr. Kneef (Part 3)

<- Part 2 | Part 4 ->

For @thatesqcrush’s Naughty or Nice Holiday Bingo! Filling the Mistletoe square

Bryan Kneef x Female Reader

Warnings: NSFW. Rough-ish hate-sex, mild degradation. Enthusiastic but dubious consent! They both want what’s happening but Bryan is reader’s boss who coerced her into the date and reader is now (half-jokingly?) blackmailing him. It’s super healthy 🙃

5,400 words

Bryan wished he were drunk.

He reclined in a leather armchair, a warm weight in his lap. He stared intently and with disinterest at the embroidery on the edge of a red Christmas stocking hung above the fireplace in his parents’ living room while his tiny nieces and nephews giggled at holiday movies.

If he had been drunk, he would at least have an excuse for his behavior tonight.

No, not for making a dozen paralegal nobodies miss Christmas, leveraging his authority to coerce you into doing a personal favor, or introducing NC-17 language to a family dinner. Those were all par for the course for the most ruthless litigator at STR Laurie.

It was the particular favor he had coerced you into—asking you to pose as the MILF he’d been banging when she dumped him via text on Christmas Eve.

Just so he wouldn’t have to explain why Sydney wasn’t with him.

Just so he wouldn’t be alone for the long drive.

Fucking brilliant.

Now his most obstinate, irritating, antagonistic employee knew about Sydney, knew how attached he’d gotten, had met his mother, and seen photos of him getting a bubble bath in the sink. (He loved his mom, but sometimes he wondered about murder.) Making you do such a humiliating favor seemed like a good way to finally control you. But his upper hand was quickly reversed.

You were right. The whole thing was pathetic.

Still, you were playing along better than he could have expected.

The strangest part was, you fit in with his family so much better than Sydney would have. She was hot, but honestly, dumb as a brick, and as difficult as Bryan himself. He had a better time with you. The way you gently teased him, commiserating with his family over what a pain in the ass he could be. The way you smiled so naturally… he saw how things could have been with Syd. With someone who called out his bullshit, but cared about him anyway.

It was a shame you were just pretending.

Try opening your heart sometime.

Fuck that.

He didn’t need to open up more. He needed to get back to the Bryan Kneef he used to be before some bitch fucked with his heart. He needed to get Syd out of his fucking mind and replace her with someone else. Anyone else.

He needed to fuck someone.

And you…

His attention turned to the weight in his lap.

You were there.

*****

When did the pretend little gestures start getting to you? Start feeling enough like real affection that there was a lonely ache in your stomach?

You fucking hated Bryan Kneef.

But there you were, your fingers tangled in his beard when no one was even watching.

You’d been sitting on Bryan’s lap for what felt like hours—you could probably figure out how many based on the number of Christmas movies that had played and how many of the children had gone off to bed in various guestrooms.

Now the fire in the hearth was burning low, and only the adults remained hanging around in the living room.

His hands were wrapped around your waist, and you had gotten so comfortable, you were practically nodding off to sleep against his chest. Bryan was getting more comfortable, too. You idly stroked his beard, and he didn’t disguise the way he nuzzled into your hand.

The private whispers you shared started as touchy warnings not to screw up your “Sydney” act and counter-threats to expose him if he crossed a line. But that invisible line kept moving, and the whispers became more like the sweet nothings between lovers they were meant to resemble.

He even started stroking your hair. Bryan Kneef, gently running his fingers over your scalp. It was a Christmas miracle.

You might have drifted off in his arms, except for one major distraction—the bulge pressing against your ass.

“What the hell is that?” you asked, close to his ear.

“My dick.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Stupid question, then.”

“Fuck you.”

“Want to?”

You accidentally let out a heady sigh instead of an offended gasp, and his hand moved a little higher, slipping under your knit sweater, grazing over your belly. You meant to tell him to fuck off. Really. You should have told him to cut it out. But the problem was, you didn’t want him to.

“My offer’s still on the table,” he murmured. “Since you’ve been such a good girl tonight. You deserve a reward.”

Being called a good girl did something to you, even though it was—or maybe because it was—somewhat demeaning. Your skin prickled. You swallowed the dryness in your throat. Your skin felt too hot… much too hot, and his thick cock was still trapped firmly between his hips and your ass. His offered reward.

“Y-yeah, I deserve a medal of honor.”

For what, again? For helping out your coworkers? They were already home with their families—you didn’t have to stay this long.

Maybe continuing the charade was just more fun than sitting in your apartment eating Chinese takeout. You accused Bryan of being lonely, but the truth was, you were the one who had nowhere to be tonight—everyone you cared about was half a country away. And your horny, irrational side wanted to feel that cock without so much clothing in the way. Wanted to feel exactly how a selfish asshole like Bryan would ravage you with it.

He would devour you like the big bad wolf…

“That wasn’t a no,” he observed, his beard tickling your ear.

“Shut up!” you hissed back, loud enough to draw attention.

He chuckled, and you felt the vibrations of his chest at your back. “Yes, kitten.”

To his credit, Bryan didn’t try anything further. His hands behaved themselves, chastely stroking your hair, and eventually his erection returned to its pre-arousal size. You had been on his lap for a long time, your ass grinding against his groin whenever you shifted. It was a natural, physical reaction… That was all.

The fact that it felt so good you were soaking through your panties was just natural biology, as well.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Bryan Kneef was the worst boss you ever had. He had no respect for his subordinates (or for anybody—you recalled the deposition in which he’d told a name partner of Reddick, Boseman & Lockhart to “call her own ass”). The fact that he was handsome just made you hate him more.

But god, his lap was warm. The smell of his cologne, and the steady rhythm of his breath…

You got to see a human side to him tonight. The way he acted with people he couldn’t treat like shit. A private side no one who knew him professionally—and you doubted any of the fifty-two other women he hooked up with per year—ever got to see. You were peeking behind the curtain of his life, and it made Bryan squirm. It was kind of cute. And your wild, horny side was clawing at the inside of your brain to give in to all the lewd promises he kept whispering.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK!

*****

Martha yawned and patted her husband’s knee. “Well, us old folks are going to bed. Feel free to stay as late as you like, just turn the TV off when you go. No one’s in your bedroom if you do decide to stay over,” she added. “I’m making waffles in the morning.”

You swiveled your head around at the empty couches and realized it was just you, Bryan, and his parents left in the living room. Everyone else had gone home or gone up to bed. Bryan had been so cranky about wanting to leave right after dinner, but after you settled onto his lap, neither of you had found a reason to move.

Bryan stood and dumped you unceremoniously off his lap—you barely stuck the landing. He stretched.

“Nah, we’d better head out, too. Thanks for dinner, ma.” He kissed her cheek and hugged her and his dad goodbye. “Get your things, Syd,” he snapped.

Sounded like girlfriend-duty was over. Good. You could stop pretending to like him.

Good.

“Be nice,” Martha chided, batting him on the arm. “Go help her find her coat; she doesn’t know the way around.”

Bryan put his hand on the small of your back and led you through an archway to the entrance hall.

His father cackled as you passed through it. “Look up!”

Mistletoe.

Bryan glanced up at the bundle of mistletoe without moving his head, so it looked like he was rolling his eyes. Then he looked at you and quirked a brow. You let out an awkward laugh, which he took to mean kissing was not part of the deal.

“It’s depraved that you want to make your children kiss,” he said dryly. “You do this to Tim and Steve, too?”

“We did, and it was adorable.”

“It’s tradition! Kiss. Kiss!”

“We are not going to kiss for you like trained monkeys,” said Bryan.

His parents passed under the arch and pecked each other’s lips.

“I love you, dear,” said his mom to his dad.

“Love you, too,” said his dad to his mom.

“No,” said Bryan.

“’ Night, peanut.” Martha pinched his cheek, and she and her husband took their perfectly hideous matching holiday sweaters upstairs.

“There,” Bryan sighed as his parents’ bedroom door clicked shut. “That wraps it up. Good work tonight.” Genuine praise from Mr. Kneef was rare, and sent a strange flush of heat between your legs. He turned toward the closet to fetch your coat, but you caught his wrist. He turned back to you.

“It is tradition…”

“Is it now?” His eyes narrowed, and a confident smirk turned the corners of his lips. He stepped closer, dangerously into your space, pushing you back against the corridor wall. “We wouldn’t want to defy tradition...”

Fuck, fuck—what were you doing?

His scent was overpowering and masculine, his presence overwhelming your senses, making him seem so much taller than he was as he shadowed you from the overhead light. You grabbed the front of his cashmere sweater and pulled. His lips crashed into yours, as hungry and fierce as you dreamed they’d be. There was no slow mounting of intensity—the moment his mouth was on yours it was fighting for dominance, wet and hot, his tongue forcing your lips open, not giving you a second to catch your breath. He tasted like cocoa and peppermint. A low growl rumbled from his throat, and you felt it in yours, his tongue was buried so deeply down it. You wrapped your arms behind his neck, tangling your fingers in his salt-and-pepper hair, drawing his weight down on you, letting him trap you against the wall. Someone was making a pathetic high-pitched whimper, and you realized it was you, desperately clawing at his sweater to grab more of him, rocking your hips forward until he reciprocated and his erection pushed against the aching heat between your legs.

When he finally pulled away, you were panting, lips drenched and throbbing from his aggressive technique. His hand was unabashedly cupping your ass, rolling the fat of it in his palm.

Oh, fuck.

No. No, no, no. He’s an asshole. A shallow jerk, and you hate him. You were not supposed to give him the satisfaction of seducing you.

He brought a hand to your face, holding it firm to keep you looking at him. His green eyes were dark with lust and energetic with desire. He lowered his face to yours and licked the saliva off your mouth. You shuddered, hips twitching forward into his cock.

Then again, it wasn’t like this meant you had feelings for him. He certainly didn’t have any for you. This was about sex. About your satisfaction. What was so wrong about fucking your boss?

The same dominating, shameless personality that made him a nightmare to work for would be right up your alley in bed. You wanted those big hands all over you, holding you down. That filthy mouth degrading you. You wanted him to call you kitten and sweetheart while he had his way with you.

His big hand was still holding your face, his lips still breathing your air as they hovered over yours.

That was it. The floodgates were open, and there was no closing them again. The wild, wanton part of you won out and took control. There would be no more rational decisions tonight.

“Can I have my reward now… Mr. Kneef?”

“Yeah?” he breathed against your lips, still pinning you. “You want the medal of honor?”

“Fuck you.”

“Since you asked nicely.” He grabbed your hand and dragged you up the master staircase, down a hallway, and pushed you into a bedroom.

As soon as the door was closed behind you, his demeanor shifted slightly. His strong hands were pawing at your ass, roving under your clothing, but he pulled his head back when you tried to kiss him. “You sure you want to do this? To be clear, this is not part of our arrangement—I don’t want to hear from HR later that I forced you to fuck me.”

“I plan to leave this part out of the complaint I’m filing.”

“Good to know you’re still filing it.” He pinched one of your nipples through your bra to punctuate the thought. You tried not to melt in his hands.

“Maybe that depends on your performance,” you purred, letting a slow, wicked smile spread over your lips. “You’d better fuck me like your job depends on it, Mr. Kneef.”

“Treacherous little bitch,” he growled. “I like this side of you. You just tell daddy exactly how you want it...” His teeth grazed your ear. A flight of goosebumps broke out over the back of your neck.

“Oh, fuck… I want that nasty fucking attitude of yours. You never hold back, never have any respect for anyone—I bet you like giving it hard, don’t you?” You pulled his hips toward you and snapped yours against them.

“Is that what you want? You like it rough?” His fingers tangled in your hair and pulled your head back, exposing your neck. His lips were hot and his beard scratchy as he sucked a mark onto the soft skin of your throat while you moaned.

“Yeah. I want you to use me. Think you can do that?” you challenged, only a slight hitch to your breath betraying what his mouth was making you feel.

Despite the soft domesticity of your performed cuddling earlier, you could only imagine Bryan one way. And soft wasn’t it. One tolerable night didn’t mean you liked him… but it was kind of hotter if you didn’t. You had your own frustrations to work out.

The big bad wolf could fuck you hard enough to forget you were alone on Christmas.

“I think I can handle it.” He pulled harder and sucked another mark, this time enough to leave a bruise.

You let a moan slip out, grateful it was the time of year you could get away with wearing a scarf all week until those faded… because you wanted more—a whole little collection from Bryan Kneef’s filthy mouth.

“I knew you were a slut deep down…” He found the hem of your sweater and yanked it off over your head in one motion. “Having such filthy thoughts about your boss is naughty behavior,” he tutted. “Santa’s going to bring you coal.”

“And what about sexually harassing your employee?” You cocked an eyebrow, using the temporary space between you to posture with your hands on your hips defiantly.

“You’ve got no case for that one, sweetheart,” he chuckled darkly, stroking your cheek with unsettling fondness. “You barged into my private office and asked me out for drinks. Sounds like you’re just a slut.”

You glowered at him incredulously because… he wasn’t… wrong.

“It’s OK. I like sluts.” He smirked. The thumb stroking your cheek worked its way over your chin, brushed your pouted lips, and slipped between them. Your tongue instinctively darted out to taste the salty pad, and his eyes darkened with desire. “That’s right… take it, you filthy little—” He hissed when you nipped him hard enough to get his attention.

“And you’re lucky naughty boys are fun to play with.” You ran your tongue over his thumb soothingly.

His chest reverberated with a predatory grumble. You were going to pay for that. Within seconds he had your top off, and then your bra—his hands were everywhere, rough and demanding, not waiting for permission.

He wrapped one strong arm around your back to brace you and lowered his face to your breasts and started sucking on them, hard. His free hand kneaded your other breast, rolling the hardened peak under his thumb. Lightning shot through your body, making your back arch, your chest rising into his mouth. “Oh, Mr. Kneef…” you moaned, curling your fingers into his thick hair.

He was so ravenous his beard burned your skin, his tongue leaving wet trails of saliva along your abused breasts. Your nails dug into the back of his head as you pulled him deeper against you, encouraging every dangerous graze of his teeth and every mark he left on your skin that turned your lower body into molten lava.

“Fuck… yes, Mr. Kneef,” you panted. Always “Mr. Kneef.” It did something frenzied and primal to remember you were fucking your boss. Bryan wasn’t the kind of man you would fuck unless he was your boss. He wasn’t a lover, he was a kink.

Just when your raw nipples couldn’t take anymore, his mouth was on your lips again, assaulting your tongue with his, deep and persistent. There was a blur of movement. Your stomach lurched, the room spun, and suddenly you were on your back, on a mattress with Bryan on top of you.

Then he was sitting back, pulling his cashmere sweater off and unbuttoning his dress shirt while your fingers grasped at his belt, fumbling to unbuckle it. The tent straining the fabric beneath it was considerable, and that melting heat in your core was desperate for it.

You could see the dark need in Bryan’s eyes, but he managed a little more restraint than you were capable of in the moment. “Ground rules,” he said. “If you want to go through with this, there’s none of that fake lovey-dovey shit, understand? You are not my pretend-girlfriend. I am not going to be tender. There’s no cuddling.” His white undershirt fell open and revealed a broad chest covered in a forest of greying hair you wanted to get lost in. He followed the path of your eyes, and one corner of his lips twitched into a greedy smirk. “I am going to fuck you. Hard,” he growled, lowering his body on top of you, so close you could feel the heat of his skin on yours, the tickle of his chest hair on your sore breasts. His half-undone belt hung down and dragged on your hips. “I am fucking pissed about being dumped, and you are just a replacement. A body for me to fuck. That’s the deal—do you understand? Don’t come running to me Monday expecting any special attention.”

“Deal. On one condition.” You grabbed his beard and pulled his face down so his eyes were locked with yours. “You don’t fucking tell anybody about this. No one at work hears a word. No disgusting locking room talk. I am not one of your conquests. You want to tell anyone you got laid? It was Sydney.”

“Deal, Syd. Now shut the fuck up.”

You released his beard and pat his face condescendingly. He caught your wrist with an annoyed grunt, fingers circling it effortlessly, and pinned it beside your head on the mattress. Then he was stealing your breath with another fierce kiss, all teeth and tongue and snarling into your mouth. You felt dizzy when he finally broke it to pull his shirt the rest of the way off and toss it aside.

“Oh fuck, Mr. Kneef… you really are attractive,” you commented, running your free hand over his muscular chest and arms. God, those arms were the size of your head, with thick veins running their length.

He glanced down at you but barely took note of the way you were salivating over his body. He knew how hot he was. It wasn’t news. What interested him was you.

He slid your skirt and panties down over your hips, stripping you completely naked on the bed, and looked you over appreciatively. For someone who dressed so conservatively all the time at work, you were sexier than the real fucking Syd. He was starting to think it was a good thing the bitch dumped him—look at all he was missing out on being chained to one pussy.

“You OK?” you asked. You noticed him pause after getting your clothes off, and he had that strange sort of sad look again.

He blinked, and his eyes hardened.

His pants dropped to the floor so he was standing just in his boxers. Then he was on top of you, pushing you back down into the mattress, using his knees to spread your thighs apart. That wild, needy heat flared up within you, anticipating it.

You reached between his legs to cup his bulge through his underwear, his heavy balls, the stiff erection above it. His cock was so thick you gasped as your fingers surrounded it to take in its size, and couldn’t wrap all the way around.

“Fuck. Oh wow, fuck. That’s huge,” you husked, voice slurred with desire. “I guess when you strut around like you’ve got a huge dick, it’s for a good reason. I always thought you were compensating for something.”

He growled and thrust his hips between your spread legs so you could feel that massive cock grind against your pussy.

“Ohh—fuck!” you groaned. You considered the monster between Bryan’s legs, and suddenly the idea of him fucking you with it as hard as you asked for made your throat go dry. “I don’t know if I can take this all at once.”

“You won’t be able to walk right on Monday. Everyone’s going to know what a great holiday you had,” he promised sinfully. “I’m going to rip you in half.” He rocked his hips again, rubbing your clit with the pressure of it, and you felt yourself getting wetter.

“I fucking mean it, Bryan. You are actually going to hurt me with that thing.”

His face grew serious. “You want me to stop, say stop—any time. Say no. Slow down. I’m not going to fucking hurt you.”

That was entirely relieving, actually. You’d kind of jumped into this hoping he’d ride you hard and push you around, but the fantasy didn’t work if you weren’t in control if he pushed too far. You were actually putting a lot of trust in a man you hated because you were horny.

He felt like shit that you’d think he would actually hurt you like that. But he could hardly blame you. “If you can’t speak, tap out. Can you do that? Show me you know what I’m fucking talking about and you’re not just nodding along.”

You scowled indignantly and tapped three times on his arm.

“Good girl.” His beard was tickling the soft skin of your chest as he made a path of bites and kisses down your body. “Don’t worry, kitten. When I’m done, you’ll be begging for me.”

He lifted your legs over his shoulders and sucked a long, teasing mark into one of your thighs, pinching the flesh in his teeth, determined to leave a lasting impression with this one—so anyone else who might fuck you in the next few weeks would know he was there. Then he moved his attention to your already-drenched heat. He dipped one of his long, thick fingers in first, and you gasped, flinching as it plunged its full length up to the knuckle into you, and he chuckled at your reaction.

“You’re tight even around one finger,” he said. “Am I making you nervous?”

You looked down your body at Mr. Kneef, your asshole boss, between your legs, slowly pumping a finger inside you. “Fuck you.”

“Trying, but I’ve got my work cut out. What a beautiful pussy, though…”

Without warning, his tongue darted out and licked your clit. You felt yourself clench around his probing finger and relax again, flooding with warmth. He grinned against your heat and began eating you out relentlessly, filling the room with filthy wet sucking and lapping sounds. Your soft, whimpering cries filled the air, too—you tried not to make too much noise with his family in the house, but you couldn’t stop a few from slipping out. You yelped as he added fingers with just as little warning, stretching you open a little at a time. He changed up the pattern and speed of his tongue on your clit, always backing away just as the molten heat of your orgasm began to build to its delicious, irresistible heights. He didn’t stop until his beard was soaked, and your pussy was practically sucking his fingers in with the need to be satisfied—until you were begging for it.

“Please… Mr. Kneef—ah! Please let me come?”

“Now, now. You’re going to come on daddy’s cock.”

“Yes!” you gasped, clawing at his hair, “Yes—fuck me. Oh god, fill me up with that perfect cock.”

He stripped his boxers off, and his red cock sprang free, already glistening with arousal, the smooth head pulled out of his foreskin. Veins snaked up the sides of it just like his arms and the backs of his hands. It was every bit as big and solid.

Kneeling between your legs, he gave his cock a few strokes and rubbed it through your dripping wet folds. The blunt, hot pressure of it sent waves of arousal up your spine. Your legs opened a little wider without your bidding them to.

“Wait!” you choked out, coming to your senses. “Condom.”

Bryan grumbled. “I’ve only been with one partner for the last three months. I’m clean.”

“Put a fucking condom on—”

“Or you’ll tell HR?”

“And your mom, too.”

“Bitch.” He smiled, the corners of his bright eyes wrinkling. Nobody ever called you that like it was a compliment before.

“Asshole.”

There were condoms in his business card case, as if he had rather expected the night to go this way.

When he finally entered you, he was studying your face almost tenderly for signs of pain or hesitation. He worked you open in a steady movement—not rough as promised, but not patiently waiting. His blunt head stretched you more than his fingers, but you were so sensitive already—so close—your walls eagerly gripped him, reshaping for his size, and the sore, burning sensation of being stuffed past your limit was one you relished as much as the pleasure.

Your legs hooked around the back of his thighs and guided him in until he was buried in your tight warmth.

Slowly at first, he rolled his hips fluidly until he was sure you could take it. When he felt you relax around his cock, your eyes on his with lust-blown desire, he snapped his hips against you once, the smack of flesh echoing through the quiet dark of the bedroom. A deep, startled moan followed it, torn out of your chest.

You were already at the limit of pressure your body could take just being filled by Bryan’s cock. The hard thrust went even deeper—too deep. You had never felt such a fullness before, and—fuck—he was hitting something so deep inside. Something that made your whole body start to melt. It didn’t matter if you could take it or not.

You wanted every inch of this bastard.

“Yes… That’s it… More. Give it to me.”

Bryan lifted your legs up onto his shoulders and leaned over you, pushing them toward your head. The new angle made him feel impossibly large, and when he found just the right angle for leverage, he started fucking you harder and deeper than you’d ever experienced. Every ruthless snap of his hips hit so deep it knocked the air from your lungs and drew a wailing moan from low in your throat.

He clamped a hand over your mouth, eyes a warning. “Quiet. Don’t wake the house.”

“Oh god… oh fuck, Bryan, you’re so… big.” Your voice shook as you tried to speak and hold back another moan.

Unlike the high, breathy gasps you usually gave, Bryan’s massive cock was pulling a new level of moan out of you, as penetrating as his thrusts. Another tore from your throat. You couldn’t hold it back if you wanted to, when his cock slammed into that spot that made you melt. It came from so deep within it shook your bones.

His hand covered your mouth again, and a fire kicked up in your stomach. The warmth of his salty palm pressing over your lips, pushing your head down into the mattress as he jackhammered into you—you were lost and aroused at the dominance of it. This time you grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand over your mouth tighter.

He tipped his head at you curiously, and you shot him a defiant look, grinning against his palm as he realized how much you liked being gagged.

“You like that, you little slut?”

You moaned even louder, letting him muffle you. You didn’t have to hold back now—the harder he rutted, the louder you wailed into the weight of his hand, which meant he didn’t have to hold back either.

The entire bed shook, legs scraping the floor with every powerful thrust as he fucked you into the mattress.

“Take that cock,” he grunted. “That tight pussy feels so good.”

Every stroke bottomed out, hitting depths you never thought possible, and hitting something that ached exquisitely and sent tendrils of molten heat out to your fingertips and down the base of your spine.

It came on so gradually you almost didn’t notice the warm tension building up in every part of your body until it was breaking over you like a wave. Bryan tightened his grip to silence your climax, sobbing into his hand, kissing it, but mostly just letting yourself cry out louder as wave after powerful wave shook you from toes to fingertips, making the world lose focus. All you could feel was him filling you so completely, fucking you through it as your walls convulsed around his cock, and the weight of his hand on your mouth holding you down, anchoring you.

He grunted, pumping faster, shallower as your walls clenched too tight to penetrate, then just as you were starting to come down from your high, his hips jerked, stuttering in their rhythm, and he heaved an exhausted, satisfied sigh as his hot release filled the condom.

His hips stilled. He slowly released your mouth, and you kept moaning, “Fuck… fuck… oh my god, fuck. That was so good.” Your skin was still prickling with warm needles, and you felt… vulnerable.

You felt him start to pull out and grabbed his thick ass, pulling him flush against you.

“Don’t...” you panted. “I want to feel you inside me a little longer.”

“I told you none of this clingy shit,” he frowned. His brow was beading with sweat, and a sheen covered his chest muscles. His pink nipples were hardened peaks in his greying chest hair.

“Shut the fuck up,” you sighed, head falling back on the pillows. You relaxed your legs off his shoulders and crossed them around his back, holding him in place. “I just love your cock. You’re still an asshole. Just shut up and pretend you’re someone nice for a second while I catch my breath.”

It wouldn’t last long before he grumbled about needing to shower and dispose of the condom. But for a few minutes, the callous Mr. Kneef did as he was told and held you as the stars faded behind your eyelids, and your breath stopped trembling. When he was quiet like that, his solid presence was comforting—an anchor when you felt like you might float away.

When he wasn’t taunting and condescending—being himself, in other words—you could imagine he was the kind of person you would want to hold you.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

Tagged: @beccabarba / @caked-crusader / @itsjustmyfantasyroom / @thatesqcrush / @dianilaws / @permanentlydizzy / @mrsrafaelbarba / @madamsnape921 / @astrangegirlsmind / @neely1177 / @onerestein / @welcometothemadxxhouse / @stardust-fray / @dreila03 / @the-baby-bookworm / @ireadfanfictionontheweekends @storiesofsvu @xixxiixx

#Bryan Kneef #Brian Kneef #bryan kneef x reader #Raúl Esparza #thatesqcrush holiday bingo #moodboard #my writing

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monstrousroommates · 3 years

Text

Raspberry Morbs

On AO3

Getting back into the swing of things with a new chapter!

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Roman didn’t have as much time to spend with Remy and his boys once he’d gotten a job at the theatre. He had his own parties to attend, which he did invite Remy to join in with, and Remy would from time to time. Roman left the name ‘Cairnhill’ behind when he went into the theatre, going for the less upper class and cheerfully alliterative ‘Roman Richards’. Remy wasn’t surprised at all when Roman’s talent was more than enough to get him on stage with the barest whisper of persuasion. He had talent and dedication, and he was a pretty thing as well, if a bit more brown than most people liked. Stage makeup did wonders for that, apparently, and if Roman’s memory was spotty about what he had been like or what he did before he’d awakened, he didn’t forget things now, learning songs, scripts and blocking with ease and flair.

He continued to live with Remy, as he promised, and they’d meet in the late nights when Roman came home from the theatre, and Remy came back from his outings. From time to time, Roman Cairnhill would make a reappearance, of course, when he wasn’t busy being someone else, and once because he absolutely had to be there for his cousin’s wedding. Then the weddings of some of the boys, as they settled into more sedate lives. Roman even managed to bring himself to Reggie’s wedding, impeccably turned out to watch the man get married to a flushed pink woman of no real beauty but lovely wheat-blond hair. Roman joked, quietly to Remy that she looked like she had good teeth at least. Remy thought that her father’s position as senior partner in Reggie’s law firm had more to do with it.

Another thing that his new career slowed was Roman’s working through Algernon’s journals. It was over two years later when he finally found an answer as to how his portrait had been damaged.

There had been an argument between Algernon and his dearest friend Laurence- dearest friend being a not particularly effective cover for his live in lover, though Algernon never referred to him as anything else. Laurence had, after a long sickness become hysterical, demanding to know why Algernon loved his artifacts more than he loved him. Algernon had attempted to soothe him, but to no avail, Laurence was certain that his place in Algernon’s affections was being usurped- especially by the eyes of the mummy that sat in his office. Apparently, the mummy had a place of honor, stood carefully in a supportive box like a grandfather clock, watching over Algernon’s study where he did most of his work. Algernon had referred to the mummy as ‘his ancient angel’ fondly in the journals. So in a fit of jealous pique, Laurence had viciously scratched the eyes of the portrait, scoring into the wood panel it was painted on, using a letter opener. He had immediately collapsed back into his fever, having risen from his sick bed to do it.

Roman would have almost found it funny if it hadn’t involved him. After reading the journal entry, and the ones after it as Algernon desperately tried to nurse his friend back to health, Roman suffered from nightmares that were almost night terrors. Of being held down while his eyes were plucked out. Of being held immobile while people negotiated his worth. Of screams of an argument where he couldn’t defend himself. And of being a child, held by a female figure who he knew in the dream was his mother, as she railed hysterically and threatened him with a knife, as his dream father tried to placate her. Nothing he could do would chase these dreams away- even drinking himself into a stupor- the best he could do was send his soul flying away, to explore the world rather than staying in his body to dream.

“In June, seized by a fit of fever, Laurie rose from his bed whilst I was elsewhere. I came home to find him in the study, screaming at my magnificent specimen of mummification as though it could hear and understand him. When I came in, full of concern for Laurie’s health, he rounded on me- venting his fever worries. An educated man such as himself, babbling about a mummy’s curse, tearing our friendship apart. That I was bewitched somehow. Nothing I said seemed to reach him. In fact it only seemed to agitate poor Laurie more.

With a mighty screech he upset the specimen, sending it tumbling down to the ground. Nightshirt askew, he leapt on top of it like a squabbling farm-maid, taking the letter opener in his hand and gouging at the portrait. I managed to physically subdue him, as the action seemed to have broken the bizarre state he was in, and he sobbed terribly as I brought him back to bed, and took care of him.

Once Laurie was safely asleep once more, pressed there under the weight of a quarter grain of morphine, I finally returned to my study, and my poor specimen. The mummy itself seemed to have taken no harm from the rough handling, but the portrait that adorned it- ah! It makes me quite sad to look upon it, remembering the glory it once was. I have decided to remove the portrait and store it elsewhere. Poor Laurie, I wonder what sort of nightmare set this off?”

Remy looked up from the journal entry he’d just read outloud, over to where Roman sat, wine glass clutched in both hands between his knees.

“That’s a lot, pidge.”

Roman nodded.

“I just felt- I needed to share it with something.” he gave a weak laugh. “Imagine! My beauty is just so great that someone felt the need to defend their lover from it when I was a thousand years dead! What an honor.” He shook his head, and Remy put the journal down, moving to put his arm around his friend. “It wasn’t even anything personal, just a fever dream.” He tossed back the last of the wine and put the cup down, so he could cover his eyes. “It’s been haunting me since I read it.”

“I can understand that.” Remy nodded. Roman straightened up and stared across the parlor, clearly not seeing anything.

“I think that I’m going to leave the box and the portrait with Dr. Lloyd.” Roman said after a moment. “I just… I can’t stand to look at it right now. And it’s hardly doing me any good. He’ll at least enjoy it more, and he had hopes for restoration projects. Though last I heard he was trying to learn the technique they used in the first place.” Roman shook his head, and leaned against Remy’s shoulder. “So how have you been? We haven’t had many evenings together of late. We’re approaching the end of a run and the director and owner have had their heads together about what to do next. I might even get a few nights off.”

Remy gave a soft chuckle.

“I wanted to talk to you about something, Roman.”

“Gadzooks! My name! Are you feeling quite the top, Remy?”

“Little tired and sad- you know I love a flit and flirt with the boys. Thing is most of them are shackled and respectable these days. A few confirmed bachelors, but I’ve had to venture more into the libertine areas of the city, which wouldn’t do my reputation much good if I was caught, not at my ‘age’.”

“What is that again, young man?”

“Oh hush.” Remy snorted. Roman might not look or act it, but it was pleasant knowing that he wasn’t automatically the oldest person in the room. Picking up his own glass, he tossed most of it back. “I have to reset soon, I think. I don’t really want to go back to France.”

“Oh, like your friend.” Roman said with understanding, and snagged the bottle, refiling both their drinks.

“Yes. Johan is about ready to come back as well, which would mean I’d have to give him back his house anyway.”

“Has it been that long already?”

“Well we’d been gadding about for a good handful before we met, Pidge. A properly constructed reset only takes a decade or two at most.”

“I wonder if I shall have to learn to do that.” Roman mused stroking his thumb along the clean-shaven line of his jaw.

“Huh.” Remy huffed thoughtfully, and leaned over, dropping his head against Roman’s, where it was still leaned against him. “Well if you do I’ll give a hand. You don’t have the network for it.”

“I doubt I fit in with the Red Pages.”

“You’re unique, that’s for sure.”

“I suppose I am.” Roman said softly. They stayed like that for a long time, sitting together in uncharacteristic silence.

#sanders sides fic #monster AU #ts roman #TS remy #mummy!roman #vampire!remy

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ziracona · 4 years

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And I hate to do this- So on that thread, not that he's as bad, why do you think Michael is redeemable? (and also Frank) Especially by his main victim? :? I hope that isn't as bad or as judgmental as I think it sounds... - Sleepy (its like 5am here :3 living up to my name i see)

So, these I gave a short and a long answer for under cut, but forgot I’m on mobile and can’t do that. I can tag it “long post” but uhhh, sorry about this. Anyway, thats why Frank comes in two chunks. I wrote it expecting to be able to use a read more. :’-] also ya fine. And I hope you’re in bed 🤣 now. Okay so. Here’s my reasons:

For Michael, to start, Halloween is complicated af. You have to know what timeline people are talking about, because there are like 8+ and Michael has been written as a wildly different character by wildly different content creators, and I would not feel the same ways towards them all. They’re not the same character. When I talk about Michael, unless I’m going on about a specific other film, I mean either H20 canon, or DbD canon, which are in line with each other when it comes to characterization. (This also includes Halloween’s 1 & 2 in the H20 line, and Halloween 1 at least in DbD). In those timelines, Michael has like at best 2% agency and choice in his own life and what he becomes. That’s why I am sympathetic. I still root for Laurie to nail his ass to the wall of course, and everything he has done to hurt someone isn’t okay just because his life is unfair & awful & out of his control, but I still find him a very tragic character. He was canonically suffering violent psychosis his parents refused him treatment for, isolated with a monster as his doctor & only human contact for 15 years from age 6 on, overdosed on medications that when OD’d worsen psychosis symptoms and can cause permanent brain damage, and stuck like that until escaping briefly when he turned 21.

In Halloween canon, Michael tells his parents he hears voices telling him to do bad things like hurt people, but they tell him he is imagining stuff, and ignore his attempts to get help. The voices say they will be quiet, which is what he desperately wants, if he kills his sister Judith. So he does, at age six. Scientifically speaking, that’s literally too young to really have a complete grasp on death and mortality itself, let alone complex ethics. He immediately goes to his parents after doing the deed, so they can do whatever they need to do. Instead of getting him help, he is sentenced to 15 years in a 1960s American sanitorium (hell), until he turns 21 and can be tried for murder as an adult (fucking ridiculous and unfair?? Tried as an adult is for like, upper teens who commit heinous murders. How tf you justify trying a six year old literally too young to really understand murder as an adult for murdering someone??). They give him to Dr. Sam Loomis, a fucking horrible person, who says he spends 8 years trying to help Michael (a fkn lie), but canonically by only a few months of meeting the kid is thoroughly convinced he is evil, the devil or a demon in human form, faking his psychosis and side effect symptoms (trauma induced mutism from killing his sister, onset of catatonia/motion loss symptoms, etc, all of which are common with his disorder & trauma), desperate to kill again, and an evil mastermind doing the devil’s work, and says so. Spends four hours every day accusing Michael as a six year old child on, of planning to do horrible things and faking his illness and being a demon and not a human, and Loomis, from age 6 to 21, is this kid’s only human contact. And the staff knew it and how wrong and disturbed Loomis was, but did nothing. So from age 6 to 21—barring one or two visits from his mom & Laurie before his dad beat 4 year old Laurie for saying Michael’s, who he hated after Judith’s death, name—until she trauma blocked out having had a brother or sister at all, and then both parents died in a car crash—his only human contact in complete isolation was an adult man who told him for four hours a day he was an evil lying demon faking his symptoms and plotting murder and not a human and promised he would kill Michael and stop him, from childhood on, and that was it. He was never given an understanding of what was medically wrong with him, or that anything was at all. He was threatened and abused and kept overdosed on drugs for 15 years since early childhood, and his only understanding of the world taught in that absolute isolation, was that he was a demon who wanted to get out and kill again. And the violent psychosis, telling him if he killed both sisters, they would go away and leave him in peace with no more constant noise. With no normal understanding of the world or people or life like he was owed ever given to him, no understanding at all of what you were going through or were aside from the promise drilled into your head you were a monster who wanted to kill every day for 15 years while drugged up? Like, I’m a firm believe people are responsible for their own actions, but in a case as extreme as that, honestly, how else was that ever going to even be able to end? You forget, as a child. Who you used to be. That’s beyond grooming even, it’s being grown in a lab for the sole purpose of someday walking out, taking a large kitchen knife, and killing Laurie Strode. And it’s tragic. It’s unfair. Halloween is a tragedy, not a horror film. It didn’t have to be that way. He wanted help. He asked for help. Loomis is directly and pretty much solely responsible for the lives lost in 1978. You know he won’t even call Michael “him”? The only human he contact he had since age six on called him “it.” And no one stopped any of that. And even then. Even then, even with all that. With the drugs, and the lab grown killer, and all of it? Michael is pretty much the single least sadistic slasher killer there /is/.

Everyone he kills in Halloween? He kills fast. It’s actually kind of boring if you’re expecting a scary slasher, because there’s no chase until Laurie. He just appears, runs you through, and you die. Very fast. And if there is any emotion expressed towards the act of killing or aftermath, it’s not pleasure or hate or happiness, it’s curiosity, because literally everything is something he wasn’t allowed to experience growing up and just has no practical experience with yet. And on top of all that, he also just doesn’t kill people he doesn’t have to. He kills one man for clothes, kills Annie to re-do Judith’s murder since it didn’t work the first time and he needs both sisters for the voices to stop, and he kills Bob and Lynda becuase they stumble onto where he is & are a threat to success. (This + Judith 15 years prior is all the deaths in Halloween period, btw). Michael routinely only kills his target, and anyone who is a threat to success. Literally doesn’t even jump out to kill Bob or attack until Bob opens the door to the closet he was hiding in, and he has been seen. Walks past a security guard and lets him go in H20 becuase he doesn’t see him, steals keys from a mom with her 4 year old kid and doesn’t even hurt them because they don’t see him really either, steals a knife from an old lady making a sandwich who is one foot away but looking the other direction, so he lets her go. Even with all the possible stakes against him, really, Michael is like, the least cruel and most sympathetic and merciful version of that lab grown killer possible, which can only be a testament to the person he was initially/still somehow has managed to keep faint traces of alive inside.

As for Laurie finding him redeemable, answer is threefold I guess, and I’ll start with the most important. 1: in Halloween canon, Laurie cares for Michael and is incredibly sad about what he turned into and wishes he could be different (once she remembers who he is). That’s established canon, not a choice of mine. In Halloween 2, she tries to talk him down before shooting him, and he hesitates when she says his name and lowers his weapon for a moment. In H20, she talks about him a lot & even asks her boyfriend (a psychologist) if he thinks something so traumatic can happen to someone that they can never recover, bc even though she hasn’t seen him in 20 years, he’s still on her heart. She hesitates to kill him once she has him helpless in the finale, and when he reaches out for her hand, she almost cries and starts to reach back because it’s what she has truly wanted for so long. 2: Michael & Laurie are siblings, and that’s a very important relationship to me. Obviously, there’s lines where you cross, it’s fkn over, but it is special, and I’m weak for it. They were both cheated of the good family life they could have had, and I like characters I care for getting recovery and rehabilitation, and I would like them to be able to recover and have whatever fragments of the lives they wanted which are still possible. And then 3: Laurie is his victim, but they’re also both victims of Loomis, and the system, and her parents, and if she does /wish/ for him to be okay and things to be like they were, which was canon before me, so she does, then I think them finding happiness and her relief and new hope in regained family and him redemption and rehabilitation through the quite literally only person he has /ever/ known who treated him well or like even a human at all & is still living, that’s so good. It’s sweet, and it makes sense. I like broken people putting the pieces together and finding ways to be okay. None of the shit that happened to either of them was okay, and Michael sure did fucking do it, but it’s about as “it’s complicated” as literally possible, and Laurie wants him to be her brother again, and Michael deserves a chance to experience personhood enough to want anything like that again too, and I think it’s sweet. To be able to find happiness and peace and a new life in that rubble. It shouldn’t be possible, because Halloween is a tragedy that never gets a happy ending, no matter how many timelines they create or versions they tell, but I wish it could have one. It needs one. At least one, among all the fated tragedies for those two cruelly cursed siblings. They both had their lives stolen. Michael by Loomis, and Laurie by Michael. And I want them to find those stolen lives again. And if they can do it together, that’s a very odd and unusual set of circumstances for that kind of thing, but it’s a very complete way to tell the story. He tried to kill her, but if she asked him to stop and he stopped, if he himself chose to change on his own, when it really, really mattered—decided that it was what he wanted more than all the things he was before, and she decided that was enough, and they could both have a future as family? I like that. It’s a happy ending stolen back.

Long Frank Answer, in case you /have/ read ILM & thus short answer did not answer your question: So. Again, for me, I always talk about Frank as in the version of him I myself write, and I wrote ILM before the archives retcon, and also just ignore them because they’re usually dumb and blatantly contradict well established and longstanding canon. Even then, I usually don’t like Frank though—didn’t like him when I started writing ILM. But Frank has very little established canon character. All there is for sure is he was a foster kid that went through some bad stuff, he met Julie and changed his mind about desperately trying to be homed somewhere other than with Clive bc he liked Julie a lot, he met Susie and Joey, they became a gang chilling in Ormond’s abandoned lodge, then tried to rob a store Joey was fired from, were surprised by a cleaner who grabbed Julie, and Frank impulse stabbed him, freaked, and ordered the others to finish it with him and be in it together. Then before they’d even really finished burying the body, they got snagged. That leaves a whole lot of personality and thoughts and motivations and future choices and person wildly undetermined. Writing, sometimes characters just do their own thing completely out of my control, and I have to adapt. Frank chose not to kill Meg at the end of Tenacity, Adrenaline, & Grit, which surprised me, because he’d been nothing but a dipshit asshole bastard till one minute ago, but I knew it was because he recognized what she’d tried to do at great pain to herself because she wouldn’t bow down and die, and he connected/empathized or sympathized on some level. He also couldn’t go through with killing Quentin immediately after being helped by him in Distortion/Iron Maiden. Neither was like, planned. It’s just who the character was. I was frustrated. I did not want to like or feel sympathy for Frank at all. Then in The Lost, Jeff just fkn hijacked the whole plot and added 20 pages not in the outline because he wanted to be kind to Frank & it’s not like I can stop characters when they do whatever they do. And while writing it, I got to know that the version of Frank Morrison in the world I was writing—which is always the version I refer to/think of him as & write now myself—was not somebody past saving. He’s a piece of shit and he’s done fucked up and inexcusable stuff, and he pays for it. In many ways, Frank gets away with a lot over the course of ILM, but it’s always because characters choose on their own to forgive him, not because they or he doesn’t think it was fucked. And Frank suffers—a lot—for his choices, and has to live through appropriate and large amounts of regret and remorse about stuff he did before the end. He gets the chance to make better choices several times, and mostly he doesn’t. He continues to fuck up. But right near the end, he makes a couple good decisions when it’s down to the wire, sees where his bad choices got him and what he has to live with, and then he does live with it. He almost dies, and then ends up falling on Jeff’s mercy, which he knows he doesn’t deserve and doesn’t expect to get, for a last chance to make it, and because Jeff is an ungodly kind and forgiving soul, he makes it.

Frank isn’t a good person, and he does a lot of stuff that isn’t remotely okay or justified or excused, but he /is/ a kid—the upper end of it, but he’s not a full grown adult. He has every reason to believe nothing of himself or others, a fucked up childhood and life which isn’t his fault, and the Entity got all four Legion kids before they’d even had time to process the one and only violent crime they did (which was unplanned), and it is historically running a PHD in psychological warfare vs everyone. Absolutely none of that excuses or justifies him, but it is an explanation for some of it that is not as bad as say, doing that shit for fun or cruelty or hate or what have you, which makes him a bad person, but one with a lot more humanity left than say, Kenneth. Who is at -100 or something. If he’s still got a lot of humanity left, that means he could be redeemed, and he eventually chooses that path for himself and hits the appropriate “I did something horrible. Fuck. It was really bad. I should not have done it.” “I am really sorry I did this. I feel awful. I’m sorry.” “I cant change it, but I can try to do better and make whatever reparations I can.” “I want to be better, and I am going to try.” necessary stages of actually trying to improve. So, I like him. He did a lot of really awful shit that wasn’t okay, but he was never without sympathetic elements. He does love his friends and his girlfriend, he is a good boyfriend to Julie and selfless towards her and his crew (overall anyway—has even risked death for them very willingly, even the one who was fighting with/kinda hated him), will keep his word in deals and has some semblance of both sympathy and honor, feels guilt, is a kid, did not choose this life but was rather catapulted into it and too weak to climb out once he landed in the mud. All of that together makes him someone I feel sympathy towards and find quite redeemable, so long as he will decide he wants that, which, in ILM, he does. If you just meant Frank in general then idk how to answer because there’s not much established Frank period it’s kinda a shell like all original dead by daylight characters, and I have no thoughts on it by itself because it’s not a whole person, and so I really only think of Frank as ILM verse Frank now.

#ask #sleepy #hope this is coherant. I love answering but I’m also on vacation trip rn so I’m not proofreading & u get what u get 🤣 adds flavor #in living memory (fic)#in living memory #spoilers #ILM spoilers #Halloween #dead by daylight #long post #Michel is not the villain of Halloween: he and Laurie are both the victims & it’s a fkn Greek tragedy #they both deserved so much more than the lives they were thrown into #: (#sad now just thinkin bout it

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in-flagrante · 4 years

Text

Downton Abbey beauty Michelle Dockery reveals life with new love in isolation

Michele Manelis, in Los Angeles, News Corp Australia Network

May 24, 2020

There’s a pivotal scene in Apple TV+ thriller, Defending Jacob, in which Michelle Dockery and Chris Evans – the parents of a young boy accused of murdering his classmate – are ambushed by a scrum of news cameras and paparazzi.

For Dockery, of course, it is an all too familiar experience – earning this kind of jarring attention ever since landing her breakout role as Lady Mary Crawley in the hit series, Downton Abbey.

“Yes, it felt very much like an overnight thing,” the British leading lady tells News Corp Australia of her rise, more than a decade ago now.

“It was by the second episode that aired in the UK and suddenly we were on the covers of newspapers. I just couldn’t get my head around it, it was overwhelming. Certainly, I had to get used to it. It was an adjustment, absolutely.”

Since the 2015 finale of the beloved series, and with the exception of last year’s hit Downton Abbey film, Dockery up-ended the upper-crust trajectory of her career

starring as a drug-addicted con artist in Good Behaviour and a ranch owner in New Mexico’s Wild West in Godless.

All traces of Lady Mary were further obliterated when she starred alongside Matthew McConaughey in Guy Ritchie’s 2019 film The Gentlemen, as the wife of a drug baron, in which she got to use her natural Essex accent.

“After those, I think any worries [of being stereotyped] were quickly dispelled,” she notes. “Thankfully, there are creative casting directors out there with a big imagination but I think if I was to be put into a 1920s drama it would be as if it was Lady Mary but in another house, if you know what I mean.”

Now, in Defending Jacob, she pivots once more – this time as a devoted mother, grappling with the reality her son may be a killer.

This journey for me, playing Laurie, has been such a rollercoaster,” she says. “Laurie has doubts about her son and then also about her husband and I found her struggle with guilt interesting, that she thinks about the possibility that her son really did commit that crime and if there was anything she could have done as a mother to avoid it.”

The series was shot in Boston, where she lived for several months.

“I loved it. I’m very much a city girl and I think Boston is a great place. I’ve described it as

if New York and London had a baby.”

The 38-year-old is chatting via Zoom from her London home on her fourth week of self-isolation. She’s make-up free, looks casually elegant in a black shirt and jeans, and appears to be sitting in her living room.

“Yes, I have a very comfy sofa, where I am now and where I’ve been spending much more time than usual.”

Dockery smiles often and looks happy and relaxed, despite the unusually restrictive circumstances we all find ourselves in.

“We’re doing fine, thank you,” she nods, referencing her boyfriend, music manager Jasper Waller-Bridge, 31, the younger brother of Fleabag’s Phoebe Waller-Bridge.

The couple has been together for several months, making this the first relationship for Dockery since her fiance, John Dineen, died of cancer in 2015.

She has never been one for opening up about her personal life, though she is happy to share some lockdown lowdown.

“I’m reading a lot, cooking way more than I ever usually do, so I’m enjoying that. I’ve been doing a lot of my mum’s traditional recipes, so a lot of stews to keep the immune system up. And I love Italian food so I have been cooking a lot of pasta,” she says.

“I’m also putting up pictures that have been leaning against a wall, [like] an Andy Warhol print, plus taking care of my plants.”

On top of her binge list is a TV classic, The Sopranos.

“This is the third time I’ve done that and [it] is still, to this day, my favourite show. It’s definitely one of the best TV shows of all time.”

Sharing her own fan moment, she leans in: “Actually, I met [Sopranos star] Edie Falco. I think she’s the greatest actress on the planet and when we met, she was everything I imagined her to be, even though I could barely speak because I was so starstruck,” she laughs.

Dockery knew instinctively from a young age she was destined for the stage.

A precocious child, she says, it was at her own insistence that she changed schools to start chasing her dream.

“It was a big decision at the time and now looking back, I think it’s amazing that at 12 I knew I was meant to be somewhere else. That decision changed the course of my life.”

Her career began in theatre productions and gathered momentum when she received an Olivier Award nomination for Burnt by the Sun, followed by a Best Newcomer trophy for her performance as Eliza Doolittle in Pygmalion, at the 2008 Evening Standard Awards. At the same time, she began landing TV roles in productions such as The Red Riding Trilogy, and a BBC adaptation of The Turn of the Screw, before her breakout performance in Downton.

As for the rumours of another Downtown Abbey movie on the horizon, she is enthusiastic as the suggestion.

“The way Hugh Bonneville talks about it,” she explains, “it’s almost like we’re all holding hands and jumping in at the same time. And yes, that would have to happen if we were to do another movie. [But] I would absolutely be in, of course.”

The Source: [X]

#michelle dockery #defending jacob #her interviews

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enchantedamusedslightlyconfused · 4 years

Text

73 questions.

I was tagged by @wescoasts @machine-gun-casie (BABES)

Almost all my friends have been tagged and I don't wanna be that asshole so ill try not to be. I tag @awkwardrocker @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @trixiehoe @she-who-is-timey-wimey

On a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now?

Well it’s finals week so about -864. After that I have two weeks of legitimate nothing where I will bake my heart out so we’ll see

Describe yourself in a hashtag?

#yikes #ughshesinherfeelsagain

If you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be?

Milo Ventimiglia, Kells, Rook.....being a music video love interest is only my life’s pipe dream

If your life was a musical, what would the marquee say?

And that’s on daddy issues and no supervision...

What’s one thing people don’t know about you?

I used to model like went to modeling school and got paid for it type shit

What’s your wakeup ritual?

get woken up by my dog tired of hearing my alarm, walk said opinionated quadruped, feed quadruped, get dressed, COFFEE, then take life as it comes

What’s your go to bed ritual?

melatonin gummies (gotta make anxiety fun), skincare when executive dysfunction will allow, brush teeth, fight dog for my spot in bed (moving a 90lb animal is no joke), turn on my sleep playlist or use my ambient noise app, stare at ceiling

What’s your favorite time of day?

witching hour followed by golden hour

Your go to for having a good laugh?

lately tiktok and Kellyvisions, previously vine compilations or Netflix specials

Dream country to visit?

Ireland. I NEED to go to the motherland. My families castle is still standing and I get in for free. its on my bucket list FOR SURE.

What’s the biggest surprise you’ve had?

getting into nursing school and chiropractic school. I’m a loser and I’ve never had a surprise party. I’d melt in puddle of love tbh

Heels or flats/sneakers?

Flats 98% of the time. Heels are reserved for business casual necessity, Halloween, or if I’m feeling myself

Vintage or new?

both, depends on the item

Who do you want to write your obituary?

Amy-Sherman Palladino

Style icon?

lmao a what? on the real though catch me fucking with those eco-friendly kitchen witch vibes. All the dainty jewelry, linens and converse/docks fam

What are three things you can’t live without?

my dog, my family (found and blood), healing people however I can (medicine ruined me for any other career and its sucks you guys)

What’s one ingredient you put in everything?

tbh salt, I question a recipes validity if salt isn't involved

What 3 people living or dead would you like to make dinner for?

Kells and the band (I'd be too nervous for a one on one), a dinner party with my MGK fam, Elvis

What’s your biggest fear in life?

Failure, not accomplishing anything

Window or aisle seat?

window all day everyday, on the wing preferably cause I like to feel the landing gear #pilotsgranddaughter

What’s your current TV obsession?

Roadies forever, pry that series from my cold dead hands (also Gilmore Girls and Criminal Minds)

Favorite app?

tie between Tumblr and Pinterest (im an aesthetic slut)

Secret talent?

I am bomb at disney princess songs, the girls I babysit for treat me like a jukebox at bedtime, cutest thing ever

Most adventurous thing you’ve done in your life?

delivered a baby has hands down been the coolest thing I’ve ever done

How would you define yourself in three words?

I fucking hate this question. always have. empathetic, resilient, intuitive

Favourite piece of clothing you own?

overall: my senior prom dress. its emerald green, backless, with a slit to upper thigh chefs kiss

everyday wear: Colorado sweatshirt

Must have clothing item everyone should have?

I second Jude: over sized hoodies

Superpower you would want?

nonspecific healing powers so they aren't limited to physical ailments

What’s inspiring you in life right now?

Colson

Best piece of advice you’ve received?

HA. probably that the body remembers more about trauma than the mind and your seemingly irrational physical reactions to things are your brain’s attempt to protect you

Best advice you’d give your teenage self?

his mistake does not define your worth. I went for a variant of these boys aint shit don't judge me cause she needs to hear it

A book that everyone should read?

Harry Potter series (yes the whole thing), Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson, Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson, The Giver by Lois Lowry

What would you like to be remembered for?

empathy, the way I made people feel

How do you define beauty?

FOR THE LAST TIME ITS SUBJECTIVE, things that give you peace, it could be a song, a person, a sunset, a scone, a leaf. If it makes you stop a second and exhale then its beautiful to you

What do you love most about your body?

holy trigger question Batman...my eyes, my hair color, texture, and its ability to grow

Best way to take a rest/decompress?

drive with the windows down and blast music while singing at the top of my lungs

Favorite place to view art?

unexpected places, like street corners, carnivals, just somewhere it takes you off guard and makes you stop and pay attention

If your life were a song, what would the title be?

it’d be one of those crazy long 2000s fall out boy titles for sure, subject matter yet to be determined

If you could master one instrument, what would it be?

violin hands down, it hits me different

If you had a tattoo, where would it be?

I have a bunch planned, plane on my right shoulder, Kells related between 3rd and 4th ribs (maybe lower in case I ever need a chest tube), watercolor portrait of my dog at some point location TBD

Dolphins or koalas?

dolphins are stoners and they're super smart, but koalas cause they’re grumpy af and honestly same

What’s your spirit animal?

again Jude and I are vibin: I've been identifying with a phoenix as of late. according to pottermore im a greyhound though (yes a patrons is a wizarding spirit animal. fight me)

Best gift you’ve ever received?

seven year old me was stoked to get a functional microscope and metal detector, I was in my egyptology/archeology phase, I still have them lmao

Best gift you’ve ever given?

oh hell idk...I made my cousin cry once cause I made cupcakes for her birthday party, they were cherry limeade flavored and had little straws and everything. that was pretty cool, granted she was seven. I also made my teacher cry cause I made sea salt caramel chocolate cupcakes for her going away party. I guess my baking brings people to tears

What’s your favourite board game?

candy land, battleship, cards against humanity even though there isn't a board

What’s your favourite colour?

forest green atm

Least favourite colour?

bright yellow/orange, its offensive to my general The Dirt Mick Mars disposition

Diamonds or pearls?

pearls (actually opals though)

Drugstore makeup or designer?

not picky provided they are evironmentally friendly. I really like Besame Cosmetics though

Blow-dry or air-dry?

air-dry, I don't have the patience for blow drying

Pilates or yoga?

yoga

Coffee or tea?

COFFEE, im still learning to like tea

What’s the weirdest word in the English language?

holy shit how much time do we have, my favorite weird word to say is fistula or omphalocele (they're medical conditions, don't goole it unless you have a strong stomach)

Dark chocolate or milk chocolate?

dark chocolate

Stairs or elevator?

stairs

Summer or winter?

neither FALL BITCHES winter if I had to pick cause I love Christmas

You are stuck on an island, you can pick one food to eat forever without getting tired of it, what would you eat?

burgers

A desert you don’t like?

red velvet cake....just why is it a thing that exists

A skill you’re working on mastering?

baking scones or shit that’s flaky in general

Best thing to happen to you today?

being tagged to do this twice, I felt special for a hot second (thanks babes)

Best compliment you’ve ever received?

that I would make a good doctor (I handled a scary pt situation like a champ, they didn't know I threw up after I made sure my pt didn't die. puking in a foreign country on the download is a skill in and of itself)

Favorite smell?

bergamot, baking bread, baking spice cakes at Christmas

Hugs or kisses?

HUGS CAN SAVE THE WORLD

If you made a documentary, what would it be about?

gifted kid fall off

Last piece of content you consumed that made you cry?

In These Walls - Machine Gun Kelly

Casual Sabotage - Yungblud

genius assholes...

Lipstick or lip gloss?

lipstick for special occasions but actually tinted chapstick or lip stains

Sweet or savoury?

savory to eat sweet to make for someone else

Girl crush?

Brittney Furlan Lee, Alexis Bledel, Lauren Graham

How you know you’re in love?

you look at them and just say yep. them. usually while they're doing something stupid

Song you can listen to on repeat?

imma out myself but Swing Life Away - Machine Gun Kelly

If you could switch lives with someone for a day who would it be?

the grass is not greener ya’ll. id rather go back and relive days

What are you most excited about at this time in your life?

hopefully passing my first trimester of chiropractic school. fingers crossed pls

#quarantine games #don't come for me people #if you identify with this stuff hit me up #I can always use more quarantine buddies #love and good vibes to you all

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riding-alpacas · 4 years

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The definition of wind

Let's see what Google says when you search for a definition of wind:

Wind is the perceptible natural movement of the air, especially in the form of a current of air blowing from a particular direction.

My definition so far has been something like this:

Wind is when your clothes are flapping in the air and it's generally harder to move forward.

Now, after hiking the O circuit, this is my new definition:

Wind is when rain covers detach from high-quality backpacks, rain jackets rip apart, people blow over like sandwich boards and experienced hikers crawl on all fours in a desperate effort to move a little forward.

And whilst I've literally been blown away in the last 8 days, figuratively I'm not.

Let's start with a look at a map. The O circuit and the W trek are multi-day hikes through the Torres del Paine National Park. Most people do the popular W trek which usually takes 3 to 4 days and can be walked in both directions. The W trek is also part of the bigger O circuit which can only be walked in anti-clockwise direction due to the windy John Gardner Pass. The O circuit usually takes between 7 and 10 days and is considered to be a bit less crowded due to a limited number of permitted hikers in the Northern section.

How the O and the W are connected

When researching the O circuit (or "the O") I found lots of different descriptions, but most of them included words like "challenging", "demanding", "rewarding", "remote" and "breathtaking". Obviously this caught my attention and soon I was in the complicated process of trying to book campsites along the trail. This turned out to be quite difficult and the fact that the camps are managed by three different organisations that don't talk to each other didn't make it any easier. Then I stumbled upon an alluring offer: Pay someone to book all campsites for you, have the tents already set up and be fed in the mountain huts (or refugios) along the way. Given that I wanted to enjoy Mother Nature as much as possible, I like minimalistic travelling and I had some cash at hand, I decided to take up that offer. The only downside was that the first part of the hike would be guided and I expected that this would cause some issues due to different walking paces. At the same time it's always nice to have someone that you can ask questions about flora, fauna and the history of the park.

Fast forward I found myself in a great hostel in Puerto Natales - the closest town to Torres del Paine - packing my 24 litre daypack for the big trip. Some people found it hard to believe that I'd do the O with this little backpack, even though I didn't have to carry a tent and food. And everybody else from our group had at least a 50 litre pack. But I can already spoil that it worked perfectly fine. Seriously, you simply don't need so much stuff, you just need the right stuff. This is all I took:

Sleeping bag (5° and I should have taken a warmer one)

2 breathable shirts as a base layer (wearing one)

Fleece jacket

Insulated jacket

One pair of convertible, water-resistant hiking pants (wearing)

2 pairs of Merino wool socks, one thick, one thin (wearing one)

2 pairs of Merino wool undies (wearing one)

Rain jacket

Windbreaker

Beanie

Bush hat

Buff (one of my most valuable pieces of gear, it's so ridiculously versatile)

Waterproof gloves

Camera

A big, big power bank

Kindle

Sunnies

Toothbrush

Toothpaste

Deodorant

Small soap bar

Small towel

Insulin pens

Glucometer

Glucose tablets

A few protein bars

Headlamp

Inflatable solar lantern

Flip flops

Water bottle

Steripen

The key is to have clothes that are quick-drying, breathable and have as much Merino in it as possible. People might be grossed out by the thought of wearing the same underwear for multiple days but it really isn't a problem. Merino wool is antibacterial and it takes ages for it to smell, it is perfectly fine.

Let's move on to the actual hike: Our group consisted of five people and our infectiously cheerful guide Debbie. The other four were Gail & Alisha from England and Julie-Dodd & Marie-Laurie from the States. Walking pace was definitely an issue from day one. Gail and I were the fastest walkers, Alisha a little in between, Julie-Dodd and Marie-Laurie were the slowest. We never really got into the same rhythm as a group which turned things into a bit of a stop-and-go activity for me. But as I said before: I expected this and could live with it.

The first three days were generally a bit unspectacular. The trail was fairly flat and we mostly walked along some beautiful coloured rivers & lakes through picturesque valleys. Things got a little more interesting on day three when we started to see a few glaciers in the distance which gave us a first taste of the famous Southern Patagonian Ice Field. Wheatherwise it was fairly sunny on day one but it became gradually more cloudy and windy. We also had a few periods of rain and the mornings were quite cold, so all layers of our clothing were used all the time.

Paine River

Mountains that separate Chile and Argentina

Did I mention that I like a good waterfall?

Lago Dickson

The wind was particularly strong on the lookouts. To our amusement, one Canadian couple put it quite nicely when we got to a point where I didn't want to pull out my camera because I was concerned the wind would take it. The girl was yelling to the guy:

This is not a good place to make a sandwich.

This line became a running gag for the rest of the trip.

At the end of day three we got up close to a glacier for the first time and the wind picked up again noticeably. Debbie told us that the next day would be quite challenging: Fierce winds and lots of rain was forecasted and there was a high chance that the John Gardner Pass - which we were supposed to cross - could be closed. She suggested to start early. Not only did we have to hike 1,200 metres up, we also had to hike about 22 kilometres to our next camp.

Glacier Los Perros

The host of the refugio overslept, so after a very sparse breakfast we hit the trail at about 5am. It already started raining and we spent the first hour walking in the dark through a muddy forrest before getting to an exposed & rocky area above the tree line. The rain turned into a mix of hail and snow and the wind pushed us all to the limits. It was here that the first rain covers flew off and people started being blown over. Gail, Alisha and I had to take quite a few breaks to wait for the other two to catch up. As a result we became very cold very quickly and Debbie noticed that we simply can't continue as a group. Even though I had my full waterproof layer on, most of my clothes were soaked in water - the rain was simply too much. The only thing that was dry were my hands, so it looks like my gloves are my most reliable piece of gear (a rather unresearched purchase from Amazon about a year ago). My feet were soaking wet and due to the wind chill became so cold that I couldn't feel my toes anymore.

Debbie sent us three ahead and it definitely helped that we didn't have to stop anymore. I wouldn't go so far to say that we were warm, we were just less cold. When we reached the top plateau of the pass we battled a constant stream of 100 km/h wind. It. Was. Unreal. And surely not a good place to make a sandwich...

Every step became a hard push - this wasn't walking anymore, this was a full-on pulling rope exercise. Alisha fell on her knees, all of us were walking bending over trying to give the wind as less surface as possible. Reaching the main pillar I climbed it with a victorious feeling but this thing was far from over. Getting to the other side we had an astonishing view of the Southern Patagonian Ice Field but we had absolutely no time to enjoy it or even take a little photo. I didn't feel my feet anymore and had to start running downhill for about 10 to 15 minutes in an effort to get warm. I reached some shelter behind some bush, the bush turned back into forest, we were finally much more protected and it became a lot warmer now. My toes came back to life and for the first time we were able to properly speak to each other again. There was a sense of achievement in the air, we hugged each other, we felt like we went through something together. At this point Alisha noticed that my rain jacket wasn't in as good spirits as I was: The hood and parts of the upper back got totally ripped apart. The irony is that I thought about replacing it before the trip but I figured it would do it for one more year.

What's left of my rain jacket

For the remainder of the walk, the massive Glacier Grey stayed on our right and we finally had some time to stop and snap some pictures. We had a rest at a ranger station and waited for the others to catch up. When they arrived, they told us their story and apparently they had to tuck their arms into each other and crawl over the pass. Later we heard that the pass was indeed closed a few hours later and the wind gusts were around 120 km/h. Needless to say that this was the bloody highlight of the whole trip. Unfortunately we don't have any photos from this epic crossing, so I really hope these memories will stay in my head for quite some time and Alzheimer's won't get me too early.

Southern Patagonian Ice Field

Glacier Grey

To our luck the rain started easing up after the pass and the rest of the day was quite cruisy. We crossed a few nice suspension bridges before reaching our camp for the night. You could clearly feel that we now joined the W trek. It was quite busy and the refugio even had a little café with couches and stuff. I wanted to treat myself with a hot chocolate and realised that all my cash that I took with me was gone. I only used a little bit for a hot drink on day one, after that I didn't take my wallet out again. Which meant that someone must have gotten into my tent on one of the other campsites and stolen my cash. I have to say that it was also partly my own fault. Whenever I arrived at my tent, I completely unpacked my bag and spread everything out for easy access. If somebody opened the tent, it would have been a five second job to take out the money. It is a shame though - the back area of the park wasn't crazy busy and it felt a bit like we were all a big family moving from camp to camp. Debbie was also shocked and it turned out that some other people from other groups had some of their stuff stolen, too. I was way too trusting.

This crazy day was also our last day with a guide: The next morning Debbie would leave us and each of us would continue at our own pace.

Debbie drew a little comic for me as a farewell

For day 5 I didn't have any high expectations. On paper it did look like a rest day with only 11 kilometres to walk and not many highlights on the map. But it turned out to be quite interesting. Most of the trail led through exposed areas which I like a lot more than forest. There were wonderful views of Lake Grey and the surrounding mountains but it was still super windy and I couldn't stay long on any of the many many lookouts.

Glacier and Lago Grey

Bye bye Glacier Grey

Hello Lake Pehoe

Day 6 was another big day with more than 20 kilometres to hike. It was the middle part of the "W": French Valley. The first section was quite steep and rocky but the reward was worth it. Reaching the first lookout I had a wonderful view of the valley to the left and the French Glacier to the right. Moving on, the trail became less steep and I barely felt that I was still going up. The second lookout offered another stunning view of the mountains further back. What a lovely little side trip.

Beautiful mountains everywhere

Lake Pehoe

Los Cuernos

French Glacier

Close to Mirador Británico

French Valley

On my way back down I stumbled upon Alisha who started the day a bit earlier than I. The one word that comes to mind when having to describe her condition would be kaputt. She had very sore muscles (or a muscle hangover as Germans would say) and as it turned out later also had two gigantic blisters on her heels. I decided to walk with her until we would reach camp trying to support her mentally as much as possible. The five minutes strategy from Snatch didn't work very well by the way.

To our surprise the trail was leading down to one of these wonderful glacial lakes and we even walked along its pebbly beach for a few metres. We ended at my favourite campsite of the trek (Los Cuernos). It was very close to shore, the showers were fantastic and the buildings quite rustic with great food (the portions were way too small though). Ironically I did not sleep very well at all that night. The wind picked up again in the afternoon and strong gusts woke me up again and again. At times I thought the tent would take off and I'd fly to the Torres. When we walked past the lake earlier, the wind was actually whirling up water which almost looked like little tornadoes. Fascinating to see.

Nice pebbles

youtube

A bit of wind

I have to say a few more words about the water (again). I'm now at a point where I would say that the water here is the best water I ever drank in my entire life. Usually I like to add a little bit of flavour when I drink plain water but here I just couldn't get enough of it. If there is one thing that I will miss most about this place it is the ability to just go to one of these natural taps and drink this wonderful water. My Steripen was only used a couple of times when I knew that there were lots of horses in the area, other than that I never had to treat it at all.

One of the many natural taps

The seventh day was another rest day with only 11 kilometres to walk. Gail and I decided to walk it together and for the majority of the time the trail was just parallel to Lake Nordenskjöld. Towards the end we took a turn at another lake that was named after my second-last car (Inge) before getting back to where it all started about a week ago.

Lake Nordenskjöld

There were a few mountains around

More Lake Nordensköld

The last day was reserved for the hike up to the towers that the park is so famous for. I was hoping that we'd have a clear morning, in which case I would have started in the middle of the night to see the Torres at sunrise - unfortunately the forecast said it would be a cloudy morning, so I rejected that idea. It was supposed to clear up during the day though. A lot of people do this hike as a day hike due to its proximity to the main entrance of the park. I wanted to at least avoid these crowds, so I started two hours before they arrived, hoping for some solitude. It kind of worked. There were already quite a few people on the trail when I made my way up but it was a lot less compared to the masses of people I encountered on my way back. And the forecast was actually true: When I arrived at the base of the towers, it was still a bit cloudy but when I left, I managed to snap a photo of all three towers not being surrounded by clouds. The whole way down it was finally super sunny and I soaked up the much needed sunbeams like a sponge. The towers itself were absolutely breathtaking and I highly enjoyed just sitting there, starring at them for two hours. As you might sense there actually weren't that many jaw-dropping moments during the hike as I originally hoped for, but this was definitely one of them.

The famous towers

On the way back

I guess the first bus has arrived

Beautiful water

What a lovely last day it was

All in all I am a little torn about the O. My expectations were definitely a lot higher in terms of everything. I expected it to be a lot more challenging but most days were actually quite cruisy. I also expected it to be a lot more remote - in reality you would never have to wait longer than 5 to 10 minutes until you'd see another human being, even on the back side. Another expectation I had was more wow moments. Don't get me wrong, it is absolutely beautiful and this is complaining on a very high level but I was very rarely blown away by what I saw. Would I do it again? Probably not. Was it still worth it? I think so.

To wrap it up, I quickly wanted to list my top positive surprises and top disappointments.

Top 3 positive surprises:

I fell in love with glaciers

Walking along the beach of Lake Nordenskjöld on the way to Los Cuernos

The hot chocolate at Camp Serón was the bomb

Top 3 disappointments:

Apart from the John Gardner Pass it wasn't very challenging at all (and that part was only challenging due to the weather)

Overall there were too many people

My cash was stolen

Next I will go back to El Calafate in Argentina and hike on the Perito Moreno Glacier on my birthday. After that I will go up North and spend some time in San Carlos de Bariloche which apparently looks like Switzerland and also has amazing chocolate. I will surely put that statement to a test.

#chile #torres del paine #hiking #o circuit

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majorproject-isobelmck · 4 years

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David Russell Williams 06/05/2020

Feature wall three below is the information that i will be showcasing on my feature walls within my exhibition, Today i want to narrow down their stories so that i am able to showcase this and today’s task is actual starting to add in all of this information into my work.

https://murderpedia.org/male.W/w/williams-russell.htm

https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/russell-williams-case

David Russell Williams is an English-born Canadian convicted murderer and former colonel in the Canadian Forces. From July 2009 until his arrest in February 2010, Williams commanded CFB Trenton, Canada's largest military airbase and a hub for the country's foreign and domestic air transport operations.

Colonel Russell Williams was commander of Canadian Forces Base (CFB) Trenton in 2010 when he was convicted of murder, following a series of bizarre sex crimes that shocked the country.

Colonel David Russell Williams was a decorated air force pilot and commander at the Canadian Forces Base (CFB) at Trenton, Ontario, when he was arrested in 2010, and charged with the murders of two women, and numerous other sexually related crimes. The bizarre case shocked the military and the country and became an international media sensation.

Background

In July 2009, Colonel Russell Williams, 46, became commanding officer of 8 Wing CFB Trenton. Born in Britain, he had immigrated to Canada as a boy. He was educated at Upper Canada College and the University of Toronto. Williams joined the Canadian Forces in 1987, and served in various capacities as he steadily rose in rank. As a pilot of VIP transport planes, he had passengers such as Prime Minister Jean Chrétien, and Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip. Williams was decorated for his years of exemplary service and for a tour of duty in the Middle East.

A C-177 Globemaster cargo plane sits on the tarmac at Canadian Forces Base Trenton (8-Wing Trenton).

Williams was married to Mary Elizabeth Harriman. The couple, who were childless, lived for 13 years in a house on Wilkie Drive in the Ottawa suburb of Orleans. Later they moved to a home they had built in the capital’s Westboro neighbourhood.

Break and Enter

Williams often spent time at a cottage he owned on Cosy Cove Lane in the village of Tweed, Ontario, 53 kilometers from Trenton. On the night of 8–9 September 2007, Williams broke into a neighbour’s cottage while the family was away, and took photographs of himself in pornographic poses with a young girl’s underwear, some of which he stole. In the months that followed, Williams broke into other residences in Tweed and the Belleville area. Beginning in May 2008, a rash of similar crimes occurred in the vicinity of Williams’s home in Orleans.

Williams victimized families whose members included girls or young women, entering residences at night when the people were away. In some cases he made return visits. Sometimes Williams walked in through unlocked doors. Other times he gained entry by cutting a screen, forcing a window open, or picking a lock.

During the burglaries Williams took photographs of female undergarments spread out on a bed, and of himself wearing brassieres and panties. When he finally left, he took underwear as trophies. In 82 documented burglaries, Williams stole around 1,400 pieces of clothing, most of it underwear and lingerie.

None of Williams’s Tweed victims reported break-ins to the police. Some weren’t aware at the time that their homes had been violated, or hadn’t noticed anything missing. However, 15 of the 25 Orleans families whose homes were broken into reported the crimes to the Ottawa Police Department. Undercover officers were posted to watch Wilkie Drive, but without results.

Detective Sergeant Jim Van Allen, a criminal profiler with the Ontario Provincial Police (OPP), assessed the information on the Orleans break-ins and deduced that as the intruder continued to evade detection, he was becoming more aggressive. In one home, he had left a taunting message on a computer. In another, police found semen on a photograph of a woman. Van Allen concluded that the prowler posed an increasing danger for “a hands on sexual assault.”

Tweed Creeper

As Van Allen had warned, the dangerous nature of the crimes escalated. Two women in Tweed were attacked in September 2009: Jane Doe (her real name protected by a publication ban) on the 17th, and Laurie Massicotte on the 30th. Both women were asleep when Williams broke in. Both were bound and blindfolded, assaulted, and forced to pose nude for photographs.

In both cases the victims called the police, but only after the Massicotte attack did the OPP advise the public. Constables went door-to-door in search of information that might lead them to the prowler locals called the Tweed Creeper.

Murders

On the night of 23 November 2009, in Brighton, a town just west of Trenton, Williams broke into the home of Corporal Marie-France Comeau, who was under his command at CFB Trenton. Comeau put up a fight, and was struck on the head several times with a flashlight. Over the next two hours, Williams repeatedly raped Comeau, beating her viciously if she resisted. He recorded it all on video and with photographs. Williams asphyxiated Comeau by wrapping her face with duct tape. He wrapped her body in a duvet and left it in her bedroom, where it lay undiscovered for more than 30 hours. While police searched Comeau’s house for clues following the discovery, Williams sent personal condolences to her father.

Williams’s next victim was Jessica Lloyd. He broke into her house on Highway 37 near Belleville, Ontario, at about 1:00 a.m. on 29 January, and found Lloyd asleep. Williams raped her and made her pose for photographs. Then Williams took Lloyd to his silver-coloured 2001 Nissan Pathfinder, parked in a nearby field, and drove her to his cottage. Lloyd’s ordeal continued until about 8:15 p.m., when Williams cracked her skull with a flashlight and strangled her with a piece of rope. He captured it all on video. Williams hid the body in his garage. On the night of 2–3 February, he dumped Lloyd’s body in the woods near Tweed.

Tire Tracks

Lloyd was reported missing when she didn’t show up for work and wasn’t at home, though her car was there. Police responded quickly. Investigators from the OPP and the Belleville Police Department suspected that the sexual assaults in Tweed, the Comeau murder and Lloyd’s disappearance were connected. A massive search was launched. It included personnel and a search-and-rescue aircraft from CFB Trenton, authorized by Colonel Williams.

Despite the efforts of police and hundreds of volunteers, after a week no trace of Lloyd had been found. However, witnesses reported seeing a silver-coloured SUV parked in a field near Lloyd’s house on the night of her disappearance. Police found tire tracks whose distinctive tread narrowed the range of potential suspect vehicles to a few, including the Nissan Pathfinder.

On the evening of 4 February, Williams was stopped at an OPP checkpoint on Highway 37. While appearing to be looking for drunk drivers, officers asked occupants of vehicles questions pertinent to the search for Lloyd, and examined tires. Williams said he was in a hurry because he had a sick child at home. During the brief roadside interrogation, officers saw that the tread of Williams’s tires matched those found in the field. From that moment, Williams was under police surveillance.

Arrest

Suspicion mounted when police realized that Williams had lied about the sick child. On the afternoon of 7 February, Williams went to Ottawa Police headquarters at the request of OPP Detective Sergeant Jim Smyth, who said he had a few loose ends to tie up. Once Williams was in the interrogation room, Smyth confronted him with questions for which he had no satisfactory answers. Moreover, Williams was wearing the boots he’d worn the night of Lloyd’s disappearance, which were matched to footprints found in the snow outside her house.

While the interview was in progress, officers with search warrants were going through the cottage in Tweed, and through Williams’s Ottawa home in the presence of his shocked wife. Smyth periodically left the interrogation room to get updates from the search teams, which provided him with more damning facts. Williams finally gave up all pretence of innocence. Smyth asked, “All right, so where is she [Lloyd]?” Williams replied, “You got a map?”

The searches of Williams’s properties turned up his camera, a duffel bag containing a black skull cap, a manual for lock picking, and boxes and pillowcases stuffed with underwear and lingerie. Hidden in the basement ceiling of the Ottawa house were two computer hard-drives containing expertly concealed records of Williams’s activities as a sexual predator over a two-year period. Video clips and nearly 3,000 photographs included depictions of the Tweed assaults and the murders of Comeau and Lloyd. There were also detailed accounts of his break-ins, and a meticulously compiled inventory of all the items he had stolen.

News of Williams’s arrest and his bizarre double-life stunned everyone who knew him and shocked the public.

Imprisonment and Suicide Attempt

In court in Belleville on 8 February, Williams was charged with murder, sexual assault and forcible confinement. He would later be charged with numerous counts of break-and-enter. He spent the next eight months in the Quinte Detention Centre in Napanee, from which he made several court appearances via video link. Because Williams pleaded guilty to all charges, he was not put on trial.

During the Easter weekend in April 2010, guards prevented Williams from choking to death on a cardboard toilet-paper tube he had shoved down his throat. He was subsequently kept under 24-hour watch. On 22 October 2010, Williams was sentenced to two terms of life imprisonment, with no possibility of parole for 25 years. He was also registered as a sex offender. His Nissan Pathfinder and his hoard of stolen garments were destroyed.

Williams was stripped of rank and dismissed from the Canadian Forces. His uniform was burned, and his decorations were destroyed. Harriman, who claimed to have known nothing about her husband’s crimes, began divorce proceedings. Williams is now incarcerated in the maximum-security prison at Port-Cartier, Québec.

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gossipnetwork-blog · 6 years

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50 Pop Culture Events Guaranteed to Get You Excited for 2018

New Post has been published on http://gossip.network/50-pop-culture-events-guaranteed-to-get-you-excited-for-2018/

50 Pop Culture Events Guaranteed to Get You Excited for 2018

Getty Images; Melissa Herwitt/E! Illustration

Ladies and gentlemen, get those crisp, empty calendars out!

The time has finally come to say goodbye to the highs and lows of 2017 and hello to a new and totally cool 2018.

As pop culture super fans at E! News, we wanted to help celebrity lovers get pumped for the brand-new year. What better way to accomplish that goal than to create a handy guide of the movies, TV shows, concerts and trends coming sooner rather than later?

From Beyoncé‘s highly anticipated headlining performance at the Coachella Music Festival this April to Prince Harry and Meghan Markle‘s fairytale wedding in May, we’ve got you covered in our gallery below.

So sit back, forget about those resolutions and get excited for what’s to come in the year ahead.

JUSTIN TALLIS/AFP/Getty Images

Princess Charlotte Heads to School

January: The two-year-old tot has an important year ahead of her as she begins attending Willcocks Nursery School in London.

ABC

Arie Luyendyk Jr. Becomes The Bachelor

January 1: He’s back! Before Bachelor Nation is treated to the Winter Games spin-off, Arie will be given a shot at love. “I’m definitely a romantic,” he told E! News. “I love being the type of partner that surprises who I’m with and tries to do special things with them.”

Courtney Hizey Photography & Emily Maultsby

Married at First Sight Returns

January 2: Six strangers have agreed to take a chance at love and get married at—you guessed it—first sight! Lifetime cameras will be there to document every moment and see if the couples decide to stay together or go their separate ways.

Fox

The X-Files Returns

January 3: Gillian Anderson and David Duchovny are returning to their iconic roles of Dana Scully and Fox Mulder in the six-episode event series on Fox.

Jamie McCarthy/Getty Images

Oprah Winfrey’s Golden Globes Appearance

January 7: The Hollywood Foreign Press Association has announced that the talk-show legend will be honored with the prestigious Cecil B. de Mille Award. And yes, we can’t wait for that acceptance speech either.

Eric Jamison/Invision/AP

Camila Cabello Releases First Solo Album

January 12: After leaving Fifth Harmony, the singer is ready to release her debut solo album that already has huge hits including “Crying in the Club” and “Havana.”

Entertainment Weekly

The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story Premieres

January 17: Penelope Cruz, Darren Criss, Edgar Ramirez and Ricky Martin will bring the tragic story of Versace’s murder at the hands of Andrew Cunanan to life on the small screen. And yes, the genius Ryan Murphy is behind the project.

Bravo

Queer Eye for the Straight Guy Returns

February: All things just keep getting better! Netflix has a new Fab Five that will forge relationships with men and women from a wide array of backgrounds and beliefs often contrary to their own.

Jamie McCarthy/Getty Images for The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon

Justin Timberlake Performs at Super Bowl 52

February 4: No matter who’s playing on the football field on game day, music fans will appreciate the “Suit and Tie” singer’s halftime performance. Will Janet Jackson make a surprise appearance? Stay tuned!

CBS

Big Brother Celebrity Edition Premieres

February 7: For the first time, CBS will assemble a group of celebrities to live in the famous house. “Picture everything about Big Brother, but nonstop action because it’s going to be on a fast-forward button,” host Julie Chen teased to The Hollywood Reporter.

Nathan Congleton/NBC

Olympic Winter Games Kick Off

February 8: Let the games begin! The best athletes from around the world will compete for Gold in South Korea. Prepare for hours of suspense, tears and inspiration.

Focus Features

Fifty Shades Freed Hits Theatres

February 9: Your Valentine’s Day plans are already made thanks to the return of Dakota Johnson and Jamie Dornan. The third installment promises plenty of suspense, surprises and sex.

Marvel

Black Panther Hits Theatres

February 16: Chadwick Boseman, Michael B. Jordan and Lupita Nyong’o star in Marvel’s latest big-screen project that is sure to be a box-office smash.

YouTube

Frozen Comes to Broadway

February 22: Disney’s latest production tells the timeless tale of two sisters, pulled apart by a mysterious secret. Both are searching for love, they just don’t know where to find it. St. James Theatre here we come!

Island Records

Demi Lovato Begins New Tour

February 26: The “Sorry Not Sorry” singer is hitting the road in support of her sixth studio album, Tell Me You Love Me. DJ Khaled will serve as a special guest.

TLC

Trading Spaces Returns

Spring: After a 10-year hiatus, the hit TLC show is back with host Paige Davis and beloved carpenters Ty Pennington and Carter Oosterhouse.

Foxwoods Resort Casino

Guy Fieri’s Restaurant Hits the Seas

Spring: Carnival Cruise Line’s next cruise ship called Carnival Horizon will include Guy’s Pig & Anchor Bar-B-Que Smokehouse|Brewhouse. BBQ, beer and boats? Count us in!

Kevin Winter/Getty Images

Pink’s Beautiful Trauma Tour Begins

March 1: Thanks to the success of her seventh studio album, the Grammy winner is hitting the road. Expect hits, flips and plenty of surprises throughout the country.

Walt Disney Studios

A Wrinkle in Time Hits Theatres

March 9: The feature adaptation of Madeleine L’Engle’s iconic children’s novel has earned plenty of well-deserved buzz thanks partly to its star-studded cast and director Ava DuVernay.

ABC

American Idol Returns

March 11: Host Ryan Seacrest will join judges Luke Bryan, Katy Perry and Lionel Richie for ABC’s revival of the singing competition show.

Facebook/Mean Girls on Broadway

Mean Girls Comes to Broadway

March 12: Tina Fey’s fetch movie is, like, coming to Broadway at the August Wilson Theatre. Cady Heron may have grown up on an African savanna, but nothing prepared her for the wild and vicious ways of her strange new home: suburban Illinois.

Pottermore

Harry Potter Comes to Broadway

March 16: Based on an original new story by J.K. Rowling, the show follows Harry as he grapples with a past that refuses to stay where it belongs. Seven stars of the original West End cast will reprise their roles at the Lyric Theatre.

ABC

Roseanne Revival Premieres

March 27: Get ready for the Conners’ comeback! Featuring the complete original cast including Roseanne Barr, John Goodman, Laurie Metcalf and Sara Gilbert, ABC promised the show’s return will explore life, death and everything in between in the classic series’ brutally honest tone.

Daniela Vesco/Invision for Parkwood Entertainment/AP Images

Beyonce Performs at Coachella

April: She’s back! After welcoming twins in 2017, the “Crazy in Love” singer is set to deliver an unforgettable headlining set during both weekends of the music festival.

Chris Jackson/Getty Images

Kate Middleton Welcomes Baby No. 3

April: Prince George and Princess Charlotte will have a younger sibling when the Duchess of Cambridge and Prince William welcome their third child.

Eliot Lee Hazel/Photo Courtesy of John Legend

Jesus Christ Superstar Live in Concert! Premieres

April 1: John Legend is NBC’s Jesus Christ in the live musical production airing from the Marcy Armory in Brooklyn, New York this spring.

Ethan Miller/Getty Images

Kenny Chesney Begins Stadium Tour

April 21: Country music fans listen up! The “Come Over” singer brings his hits to the Trip Around the Sun tour that includes stops at multiple stadiums across the country.

HGTV

Joanna Gaines Releases Cookbook

April 24: Cooking just like the Fixer Upper star got a whole lot easier. “I’ve been working on this project for quite some time now, and the whole process has really been so fun,” the HGTV star shared on her website. “The cookbook is full of my personal tried and true dishes, favorites from family and friends, and some recipes from our restaurant that I wanted to share.”

Reese’s

Reese’s Outrageous Bar Hits Stores

May: Reese’s new candy is full of creamy peanut butter, surrounded by caramel and crunchy Reese’s Pieces candy and then covered in smooth milk chocolate.

Larry Busacca/LP5/Getty Images for TAS

Taylor Swift Begins reputation Tour

May 8: In support of her latest record-breaking album, the Grammy winner will travel to stadiums across the country to perform her biggest hits. Expect star-studded crowds and surprises!

Eddie Mulholland/Daily Telegraph/PA Wire

Prince Harry and Meghan Markle’s Wedding

May 19: While there are plenty of Hollywood couples who will likely say “I Do” in the year ahead, this royal wedding will capture the eyes of the world. We’re already prepared—and pumped—to set our alarms.

Kevin Winter/Getty Images for Clear Channel

Maroon 5 Begins New Tour

May 30: The band behind huge hits like “What Lovers Do” and “Don’t Wanna Know” announced a 33-date North American tour in support of their album Red Pill Blues.

Chris Pizzello/Invision/AP

Faith Hill & Tim McGraw Continue Soul2Soul Tour

May 31: The country music power couple are hitting the road together again for their top-selling Soul2Soul tour. And yes, we are crossing our fingers for joint performances of “Speak to a Girl,” “I Need You” and more.

Disney

Toy Story Land Comes to Disney World Resort

Summer: The new land located in Disney’s Halloween Studios will feature two new themed attractions including a family coaster.

Emojipedia

Redhead Emojis Arrive

June: According to Emojipedia, phone users will finally be able to give emojis red hair.

Christopher Polk/Getty Images for iHeartMedia

Kesha & Macklemore Begin New Tour Together

June 6: The Adventures of Kesha and Macklemore Tour kicks off in Phoenix where $1 from every ticket sold will be donated to Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network (RAINN) and PLUS 1.

Barry Wetcher/Warner Bros. Pictures

Oceans Eight Hits Theatres

June 8: Perhaps it’s the star-studded cast? Maybe it’s that intriguing trailer? Whatever the case may be, excitement is building for the follow-up to the Ocean‘s trilogy.

Disney/Pixar

The Incredibles 2 Hits Theatres

June 15: Mr. Incredible (Craig T. Nelson) is left to care for Jack-Jack while Elastigirl (Holly Hunter) is out saving the world in this highly anticipated sequel perfect for the entire family.

Universal Studios

Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom Hits Theatres

June 22: Chris Pratt and Bryce Dallas Howard mount a campaign to rescue the remaining dinosaurs from a dangerous volcano.

Stuart Franklin/Getty Images

Shakira Begins New Tour

August 3: The El Dorado world tour is slated to kick off in Chicago. While the singer had to postpone dates because of vocal cord recovery, fans are still excited to see the superstar singer perform her biggest hits of her career.

Dimitrios Kambouris/Getty Images

Ed Sheeran Begins Stadium Tour

August 18: After the success of Divide, the singer is on board for a North American stadium tour that will kick off at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, Calif.

Neilson Barnard/Getty Images

Kelly Clarkson Joins The Voice

Fall: The original American Idol winner has signed on for a spin in those iconic red chairs as a coach for season 14. “We’ve gone back and forth about a role as a coach for years, but the timing hasn’t been right until now,” Kelly shared at the time of the announcement. “I have always loved appearing on the show as an adviser or performer…Watch out Shelton, I’m comin’ to win!!”

People’s Choice Awards

People’s Choice Awards Moves to E!

November 11: The E! network has acquired the fan-favorite award show, which celebrates the best in pop culture and is voted on entirely by fans. Get ready for a star-studded show you won’t forget.

Alex Dolan/PR Newswire

Lady Gaga Begins Las Vegas Residency

December: Pack your bags Fame Monsters because the “Born This Way” singer is headed to Monte Carlo Hotel & Casino’s Park Theater to sing her favorite songs for audiences around the world.

Walt Disney Pictures

Mary Poppins Returns Hits Theatres

December 25: With a cast of Emily Blunt, Meryl Streep, Colin Firth and more, something tells us the waiting until next Christmas will be worth it for this Disney movie.

Taco Bell

Taco Bell Expands $1 Menu

All Year: Step aside, McDonalds. Taco Bell hopes to satisfy fast-food lovers with 20 new options on its Dollar Cravings Menu throughout the year. Their most recent add was a $1 “Stacker.”

Universal Studios

Kung Fu Panda Comes to Universal Studios Hollywood

TBD: Another level of awesomeness at DreamWorks Theatre will feature Kung Fu Panda as parkgoers are immersed in a brand-new multisensory attraction. Join Master Po on an unstoppable adventure of awesomeness destined to stimulate your senses, exercise your wit and unlock the hero within through the power of kung fu.

Gustavo Caballero/Getty Images for SOBEWFF

Giada De Laurentiis Opens New Las Vegas Restaurant

TBD: The celebrity chef and Food Network superstar plans to open her second restaurant. Called Pronto by Giada, the establishment will be inside Caesars Palace and serve as a quick-service eatery with Italian and Californian fare.

Photos

See More From 50 Pop Culture Events Coming in 2018

Anyone else feeling excited for the months to come? Let’s do this 2018!

Don’t miss E! News every weekday at 7 and 11 p.m.

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davidpires578 · 7 years

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My Journey As A Creative Designer - Woodworking and Beyond #1830: Brushing up on Organization

Those of you who know me realize that I am an 'Organizational Junkie'. Yes – I am actually very proud of that fact. I grew up with very limited means and I was taught to respect and take care of the things we have. Throwing them here and there only causes them to get lost or damaged. Besides – how can we be efficient if we have to stop and look for stuff while we are in the midst of creating? Maybe others can work that way, but I sure can't. Last year when we moved into our new place here, I was fortunate enough to gain a real studio in which to do my work. It is located in a corner room and has windows on two walls, making it bright and cheerful. In addition to all the natural light, I decided to add a white rug and all white furniture as a base for it. This way I have a 'blank canvas' with which to decorate and it lends to the openness and cheerfulness of the room. My artist friends thought I was CRAZY! (So did many of my other friends) But I have had white rugs and light furniture before in my past lives and never had a problem keeping them clean. It only takes a certain amount of care and upkeep to keep it looking nice. Now we are about nine months later, and I am proud to say that everything looks as nice as it did when it was brand new. Perhaps even better as I add some things to the room here and there. I have a wonderful workplace that is clean, neat, functional and inviting in which I spend my days. I am really happy. One of the keys to keeping it nice is to keep up with the organization aspect of the room. I still have a little 'fine tuning' to do as far as my needlework and embroidery supplies go, but for the most part, I keep things in order. This doesn't happen automatically, though. It takes a couple of minutes after each session to put things back where they belong so that the next time I need them, I am able to find them quickly and not interrupt my workflow. It is a basic behavior that I am happy to say is a 'habit' with me and it makes my life much easier and more productive as well. When people ask how I accomplish so much in a day, I know that this is a large part of the reason. A little time spent each day to take care of our very beautiful and expensive supplies really pays off in the end. I can't have it under way. So recently, I have been searching for some new sources of brushes to recommend to my customers and readers. I used to use the Lowe-Cornell 7000 series of brushes, which was a higher end of brush from them. But in recent years, the company has changed hands numerous times and they have not only become more expensive, but harder for me to get, too. My favorite was a 20/0 liner that I have had for over 10 years and still use. It seems that they just don't make them the same anymore. I also had a stash of 'teaching brushes' that I would bring when I taught. Since that hasn't been for a while, I felt it was time to sort through the piles of brushes I have and put the ones that I use most for my own painting. Last night I posted pictures of my progress and I had a lot of interest from my painting groups and some of my other followers as well. I thought that putting everything into one comprehensive post would be a nice idea for those who want to reference it. So here it is. :) I use the upper part of my large cabinet to store my brushes, current paint project supplies, and several types of my colored pencils. I had my cabinets custom made so they are very deep since I had the room.

The trick is not to put stuff in front that blocks the stuff behind it if you can help it. The area in front is kind of a 'temporary holding area' where I can quickly tuck my paint and current project away when I am done for the evening. You will see that in later photos. I began by laying most of my 'current brushes' over the middle of the floor:

This was the only way that I could actually sort them into groups. I grouped them (for the most part) by brand and type. I then decided which ones I really use all the time and which I do not and only use for teaching or backups. Once that part was done, I was well on my way to getting things in a good place. The rest was easy. I began by using two of my decorative boxes for storing the brushes that I don't use frequently.

The box on the left holds my large Home Decor Brushes. Most are Americana Decor from DecoArt. I LOVE them. I was given some Blue Ice to try and I haven't done that yet. I heard good about them and they seem nice, so I will let you know. The box on the right holds my 'extras' that I used for teaching or had from way back when. Many are Loew-Cornell, which I LOVED. But the company has changed hands many times and I don't know if they will have a good future. Others are several brands that I tried and didn't make the cut for one reason or another. Some lost their shape. Others fell apart, others just performed poorly. I am a very light painter and take good care of my brushes. There is no reason that they shouldn't hold up well. I hate to even give many of these away because they are . . . well . . . CRAP I then filled a brush holder with many of my most commonly used brushes. These are mostly filled with my old Lowe-Cornell favorites and the many beautiful DecoArt Traditions brushes that I use. If you want a good brush, you can get the DA Traditions through Art Apprentice Online http://store.artapprenticeonline.com/all-brushes/. They occasionally do put them on sale for 30% off and I buy them then. I do like them a lot. They are excellent quality.

The left side of my cabinet is filled with my different types of pastel pencils, Derwent pencils of various types, and watercolor paints. On top of that, I keep my wet palettes and water basin. In front are 'treats' that I send out with my orders and right now there is a wood order there, too. Everything is easy to get to.

On the middle and right side, there are my two drawers for storing my brushes (they were pulled out in the first picture) and on top of it is a box that will hold my 'current project paints, pattern and surfaces' if they fit. That way I can tuck them away quickly. On the far right in back are the two boxes and the brush holder that I showed you all, which stack up neatly and are easily accessible, as you see. In front of it is a brush bucket to hold the larger brushes that I don't want to squish in the drawers. You will see them in a minute.

Now we will show all the drawers. We will start at the bottom and work our way up. I put the lesser used brushes in the bottom and the more frequently used ones in the top. That way if some small things are on the shelf, I don't have to move them every time I go into the drawers. (By the way – the drawers are available from Mary Kingslan Gibilisco here: https://www.kingslan.com/proddetail.php?prod=brushboxbrushkit I am numbering from the bottom up. Drawer #1 - First – my favorite stencil brushes – Laurie Speltz makes the best (I think it is creativecoach.com) I love her stenciling brushes! Next – Styluses – (can we ever have too many??? ) I use mine for other things and sometimes bend them. Next – Heather Reddick sable brushes for her beautiful stroke work. There are some mini sable mops there, too. Finally – some palette knives, a small utility knife, and a drafting pencil.

Drawer #2

First compartment – EMPTY (Room for MORE! :D ) Second are some new Royal ZEN brushes. They are really reasonable and so far I like them. Mary Kingslan Gibilisco sells them and you can get them around Charlotte Fletcher – you may like these. I do because they are similar to the Lowe-Cornell 7000 series anglers in feel. If they last – GREAT!

<div>Next – My Kolinsky Sable brushes. Mostly from Yarka. High quality and a bit costly. The darker one is from the DA Traditions line sold by Art Apprentice Online. </div> <div></div> <div>Finally – Royal Sabletek from Mary Kingslan Gibilisco. These are really nice (the ones I tried) but I still need to try more of them. You can see they aren't used yet. They feel like really nice quality.

<div>Drawer #3 </div> <div></div> <div>Mary Kingslan Gibilisco mops. High quality and they don't shed. </div> <div></div> <div>Then the DecoArt Traditions Flats. BEAUTIFUL brushes. </div> <div></div> <div>Next the DecoArt Traditions rakes and domes. These are I think my favorite domes ever. Very nice for dry brushing. They are firm but have a beautifully soft and rounded head. Not as stiff as the LC deerfoot brushes. I love them! </div> <div></div> <div>Finally – the DecoArt Traditions Angular Shaders. These are nice, but they are a bit "fuller" than I like for my smaller stuff. I like using the chisel edge of the angular shader for lining and fur and stuff like that. These are a little full for that. But for bigger stuff, they are nice and they do hold their shape well. I use mine a lot.

Drawer #4 – This drawer is all Mary Kingslan Gibilisco's <div></div> <div>First the flats. They are beautiful and have a somewhat shorter bristle. This is because she works a lot with the Genesis paint which is much thicker than the DA Americana Acrylic. They work really well with the thicker paint and have beautiful control. </div> <div></div> <div>Next are the angular brushes and more, smaller flats. Same here. </div> <div></div> <div>Then the filberts. Really nice quality handles and they keep their shape well. </div> <div></div> <div>Finally, the liners and spotters. Again – all beautiful brushes. I really like this line and use it often.

<div>Drawer #5 – This is my 'workhorse' drawer. I actually got most of these brushes really CHEAP from Ebay. I haven't tried many of them yet, but I did for the painting I did last week and they did an amazing job for the price. </div> <div></div> <div>The first section is the liners. I think they cost about $6 for ALL of them! </div> <div></div> <div>The second section is the flats. I like that they have longer bristles so you can load it up fuller for basing without getting the paint int the ferrule. I will have to see if they hold their shape well. </div> <div></div> <div>The third is a set of angular brushes. These came long handled and I cut them down on my saw. I like shorter handles. They are a 'thin' angular brush without lots of hairs, so working on the chisel edge is good with these. They were cheap, cheap, cheap though. I don't know how they will hold up. </div> <div></div> <div>The last section is four of my Lowe-Cornell 20/0 liners. I love these for lettering and I am afraid they will go the way of the dinosaur with the company changing hands again. I had one of these for over 10 years! It was my favorite for teeny, tiny details. The other brush is a Royal Mini-Majestic Monogram brush. I like it, but I forgot where I got it. It is short though so it isn't as good for lettering. I need one to hold more paint.

<div>Drawer #6 </div> <div></div> <div>First section – these are the brushes that Lynne Andrews uses. You can get them from her site at www.lynneandrews.com. I am painting her Ark series and wanted to actually follow her technique and directions. I will let you know on them. </div> <div></div> <div>The next three sections belong to Peggy Harris. I just got these brushes last week and I think they will be my NEW favorites. Peggy works with Silver brush directly and created some of these amazing brushes. The green handled ones are the Ruby series, which is stiffer so it doesn't hold a lot of paint, but is great for precision work. They almost feel like fabric brushes. I absolutely fell in love with them. </div> <div></div> <div>The next section (white handles) are the Silver Ultra Minis. I used some of these for the fine details on a painting last week and LOVE them! They will probably replace my Lowe-Cornell 20/0 liner in the previous drawer because the liner holds a bit more paint and has a bit more control. I look forward to working more with these! </div> <div></div> <div>The last section are miscellaneous brushes from Peggy's site (https://peggyharris.com/harris-brushes/) With Peggy being a lifetime artist, she really knows her stuff and I trust her products. I am going to be looking into more brushes from Silver that she told me would be suitable for my preference for painting. I am excited because so far, these are really wonderful. It would be nice to be able to not have to keep hunting for my 'perfect' line of brushes. In the long run, it will save me from buying every brush that I think with be "it".

And finally – My brush bucket:

On the left pile, there are my larger Mary Kingslan Gibilisco brushes. Anglers and flats mostly. In the middle are some dynasty angles and domes. They are nice, but the anglers are thick for my every day painting. But they can be used for blending my colored pencil drawings with the odorless mineral spirits. On the right, the Dynasty Faux Squirrel brushes. These are nice and hold lots, so they will be good for my watercolors. These were my favorite of the Dynasty brushes. I had trouble with the Black/Gold that everyone raves about. I march to a different drummer, I suppose. Sitting on the top of the bucket is Peggy Harris' beautiful Ultimate Varnish brush. I had to indulge in this brush! It is truly top of the line. Behind that are some large blenders from the Traditions line and some mops. As you see, everything fits nice and neat and is easily accessible:

I hope you liked this 'tour' of my brushes. You can get Peggy Harris' brushes on her website here: https://peggyharris.com/harris-brushes/ Mary Kingslan Gibilisco sells both brushes and the boxes here: https://www.kingslan.com/ And finally, the DecoArt Americana Traditions brushes are sold at Art Apprentice Online here: http://store.artapprenticeonline.com/all-brushes/ Art Apprentice Online often puts them on sale for 30 percent off. :) In other news, we are updating the site today and sending out a newsletter. Keith has a new basket available (SLDK717) and we have some new sales.

I hope you stop by. Look for your newsletter to arrive later on today. I hope you enjoyed seeing my brush organization. I think it is really helpful to keep things in order and I hope it gives you some ideas about some of the brushes you would like to try. Have a great Tuesday! :) </div> </div> </div>

#woodworking #wood #working #miter #saws #Woodworking

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