#house explodes plum
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House Explosion Plum Pittsburgh Leaves 5 Dead and Several People Hurt
A house in Plum Pennsylvania, exploded, and the explosion was caught on Ring videos from other homes in the neighborhood.
Five people killed after a house exploded in Pennsylvania over the weekend have been identified.
The deceased victims include four adults and one adolescent, and all of the victims have been recovered, officials said.
The Medical Examiner identified them as Casey Clontz, 38;…
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🎶 makin plum shortcake, makin plum shortcake, hope I don't explode my house 🎶
#i dont THINK I'll explode my house but i havent baked in forever#more realistically i just hope the plum shortcake tastes nice#they were free plums#idk what to do with plums#make a shortcake?
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just a quick bbf!ellie blurb. (this really is the definition of a blurb 💗)
cw: public teasing, mentions of fingering, cum eating, strap on sex, ellie’s a lil perv whos cutting up some fruits. i don’t know. ♡
﹒ 𓈒 𓏸 ﹒ 🎀﹒ ࣭ 𖧋 ˚ 𓂋 ﹒
right now, her big, veiny hand resting on your naked thigh is nothing but a friendly, comforting gesture — right? and so is the way it caresses you slowly, short fingernails tracing faint circles on your skin, that make your thigh shiver and your skin grow goosebumps that she feels. there’s also absolutely no underlying motive for her covering both of your bodies with a thick blanket in the middle of august, nor for her breath hitching inside her throat when you lay your head on top of her shoulder for just a quick one second.
there’s also no reason for her to not answer your brother when he asks her a question about the movie you’re all intently “ watching “, and yet — she doesn’t.
“that’s such a cool scene” he voices, but to ellie, his best friend and your… whatever, it sounds like muffled gibberish, like he’s stuck inside a cardboard box. he could be banging on the walls and screaming “let me out!!!” and all she’d hear is her own thumping heartbeat. he glances over at her, and just when he catches her gaze, she hums a startled “hm?”
her forehead is covered with tiny beads of sweat, deep auburn bangs sticking to her scorching hot skin because again — it’s the middle of fucking august and she has a fuzzy blanket covering from her tippy toes to her crotch, and the girl sitting innocently besides her has been nothing but a teasing, irritating, mind altering presence that makes her toes curl up inside her socks whenever she’s around.
“i said, cool scene… i heard he doesn’t even use a fuckin’ stunt double”
ellie shifts on the couch and tries her best to look cool, calm and collected. her knee nudges yours by mistake and you nudge it again but you do it harder and on purpose, just to feel her hand tense up on your thigh.
“yeah, super cool” ellie mutters, followed by a chuckle that makes her sound anything and everything but genuine. she doesn’t even know the name of the film you’re all watching, let alone the name of the actor or even the goddamn genre.
all she knows is the feeling of her clammy palm against your thigh, and the flashbacks of you silently whimpering out her name on the porch last night playing in her head like you’re about to be nominated for an oscar. she also knows that the same hand that’s on your body was on your lips, sealing them, attempting to shut you up because the entire house was still awake, and that the same fingers that are now trailing small circles on your flesh were buried deep inside your heat.
when she cut a fresh plum today for breakfast, it’s thick juice splattered on her tatted forearm and she swore that when she pressed down on the fruit — and made a small dent, it felt like being inside of your grippy little hole. then she pressed on it harder and her finger was poking at it’s flesh and it was wet and sticky.
then, she thought about how your eyeballs nearly exploded in your head when she curled her fingers up. “oh yeah?, uh-huh, you like that?”, she teased, and didn’t even expect you to reply — but you mewled cries of “yesyesyes ellie, oh!, more, please”, and now it echoes in her head and she hisses. she presses harder on the fruit, wiggling her long finger in, the knife is nowhere to be found.
she’s thinking of how you gripped at her forearm when she pressed down on your tummy, and sobbed a needy, sickly sweet “oh— oh god, ellie” — which is funny or lewd or blasphemous, because god had nothing to do with it, and the cross that’s splayed on your family’s house walls has probably flipped itself upside down.
afterwards, she thought of how cute you looked, glossy eyed and pouty and sweet, when she told you to open up your mouth and stick out your tongue because your honeyed juices were dripping down her hand and she wanted to see if you’d taste your own cum. and you did.
she pressed down on your tongue with her thumb, circling it over and over again and nearly making you gag, then praised you with a husky “atta’ girl” through gritted teeth and a nearly quivering smirk.
your knees pressed up against her ribs, thighs pressed down against your tits, hands being pinned up on your pillow, cunt aching and clenching around nothing because she’s just letting you grind on her silicone cock and just that — because whenever you try and buck your hips the harness presses snugly on her puffy clit and she has to physically fight the urge to take it off and rub one out, staring at you and using you whilst you’re laying on your back.
she thinks you’re so nasty you might even like it.
she clears her throat and starts thinking about cool stuff she likes. cool stuff that don’t involve you, or your hole or your lips and your eyes or your hair or your tits—
and then and only then, she feels her cheeks grow red — nearly exploding, same color but a slightly lighter shade than the plum, rolls her eyes, scoffs and calls herself a “gross perv who’s also a terrible fuckin’ friend”
because she tried thinking of stuff she actually likes and she thought of you again.
the plum looks like it’s been through hell and back. like a meek soldier who’s been through a tough war and then lost.
so she throws it in the trash, picks another one and prays to god you won’t sneak your way into her thoughts again.
and you do, so the loop continues.
💗
#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams x you#bbf!ellie
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@croptopjames happy birthday to the one and only jfp <3
jegulus | 933 words | trans reg & themes of gender identity and transition
Regulus felt his cheeks heat up as he snapped out of his daze and met James' eyes. He was wearing a knowing look, "Oh, I'm definitely keeping this," James declared, his smirk widening. "Especially if it gets this kind of reaction from you every time."
Regulus’ room was a disaster. James had finally coaxed him into sorting through his old clothes, only managing after he bribed him with promises of kisses and takeout afterwards. The closet had all but exploded, leaving piles of clothes scattered all across the room. With ‘yes’s,’ and ‘no’s,’ and ‘maybes’ occupying every available flat surface, Regulus was sure he hadn't seen the darkened wood of his floor in hours.
Sat on his bed, he watched as James dug through his dresser for another shirt. He let out a thoughtful hum as he grabbed two, throwing one over his shoulder and holding up the other: an awful plum-colored blouse. His mother had bought it for him—form-fitting, smothered in ruffles, and, in her words, “the perfect blouse for a sophisticated young woman.”
Regulus thought it was the ugliest fucking shirt he had ever seen.
“Ugh,” Regulus wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Absolutely not, that thing is a monstrosity.”
James barked out a laugh, amused at the disgust evident on Regulus' face, before flinging the shirt into the rapidly growing ‘no’ pile. He grabbed at the one resting on his shoulder.
“And this one?”
It was worn, fabric soft from years of wear. The dark green and gray had dulled, now just muted shadows of their original hues. The words printed on the front, cracked and creased, read ‘Hogwarts Women's Rowing’. It had been his favorite shirt for a long time. His parents had always been on him to join something– a club, a team, an honor society. If he was honest, he only chose rowing because it kept him out of the house the longest.
And he's so grateful he did, because it brought him Pandora. He suffered through early morning rows and long race days, soreness in his body and blisters on his hands. But every discomfort was worth it for the times he and Pandora would steal an extra hour to lie in the sun by the Great Lake, laughing until their bellies felt as sore as their arms. Worth it for the times Evan would cram them into his shitty jeep and drive them to their races so they didn't have to take the bus. Worth it, most of all, for giving him the first people with whom he could be honest—really, truly honest.
"I don't want to get rid of it," Regulus admitted, a hint of reluctance in his voice. "It was my favorite, but—I’m not ready to wear anything that might make people mistake me for a woman. Not for a while, at least.”
James nodded. He turned the shirt around, head tilting slightly as he considered it. “How about I hold onto it for you? That way it's not gone, just... repurposed.” He looked up at Regulus with a wicked grin. “I bet I could pull it off.”
Regulus couldn’t help but scoff as James began to pull on the shirt. “I’d like to see you try," he challenged, amusement evident in his voice.
But as James stretched out his arms and did a little spin, Regulus wasn't laughing. Instead, he felt his heart swoop. A familiar mixture of fondness and arousal swirled in his gut at the sight of James. Glasses knocked a little lopsided from pulling the shirt on, pajama pants hanging low on his hips and socked feet– it was a picture that made Regulus go warm with affection. But, it was the shirt that really kept his attention. Visibly too small, the letters strained as they stretched across the width of his chest. The hem of it hitting right below his navel, exposing his hip bones and the trail of hair leading down from his belly button. Regulus felt all the breath leave his chest. “C'mere,” he said softly.
James shuffled over to him. “Good?” He asked, a hint of uncertainty in his tone.
Regulus shook his head, he was in awe of James. “Better than good. It suits you much better than it ever did me,” he mumbled, voice low and distracted. Reaching out to place his hands on James' waist, he absentmindedly dragged his thumbs back and forth over his hipbones, eyes stuck to the sliver of skin peeking out from beneath the shirt.
“My eyes are up here, love,” James gently teased, his voice laced with amusement.
Regulus felt his cheeks heat up as he snapped out of his daze and met James' eyes. He was wearing a knowing look, "Oh, I'm definitely keeping this," James declared, his smirk widening. "Especially if it gets this kind of reaction from you every time."
“I lied,” Regulus deadpanned, “you actually look ridiculous.” But his face was betraying him, unable to fight the smile spreading across it.
James hummed in response, the smugness in his tone unmistakable. He was clearly enjoying every moment of this.
"Oh, shut up," Regulus groaned playfully, his hands gripping the exposed skin at his waist to pull him down. James yelped in surprise before their lips were meeting in a kiss filled more with laughter than anything else. But then James was deepening it, and Regulus let himself be kissed breathless. After a moment, he gently pulled back, hand tenderly stroking through James’ hair.
"Thank you," he whispered, his hand tracing a path down James' neck, over his shoulder, and along the length of his arm until their fingers intertwined. "For being here, for—everything. Everything that you do for me."
James responded with a gentle squeeze of their hands, his eyes meeting Regulus’. "Always, love." His voice was soft but firm in promise. And there it was again, his heart swooping in his chest as James pressed a kiss to his temple. "Always."
#i initially had other plans for my submission#but i went in a diff direction thanks to the transphobe in my dm's. enjoy the fluff of jamie and his trans bf!#also literally dont ask me why i picked rowing i have no idea LMFAO#jegulus#regulus black#james potter#croptopjames#jegulus fic#jegulus microfic#marauders#starchaser
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‘OURS’
Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.
Index:
Chapter 1 - Size of A Plum
Chapter 2 - With a ‘U’ or an ‘O’
Chapter 3 - Auntie Laur and A Very Drunk Boy
Chapter 4 - Baby Dior
Chapter 5 - His Treble
Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, mention of the word ‘daddy,’ kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!
Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)
Chapter 6 - Teddy Bear | ‘Ours’
Your due date was fast approaching. It was getting scarily real, in fact. The past couple days had been… difficult. Since the scare at the hospital Trent had been tiptoeing around treating you like a piece of glass. He was being so helpful preparing for your baby girl but you were stressed because he had two away matches back to back and he couldn’t really do anything about that. Your three year anniversary was this week too. You felt a lot of pressure to be ready for that date and for your baby. Trent told you not to worry about the anniversary but you didn’t like that idea because you knew he would most definitely do something for it. It was just so overwhelming to manage anything outside of just looking after your body lately. You actually hadn’t been to a home game of Trent’s yet this season because it was just so taxing. It was hard for you to sit up and down, you hated all the attention on you, the stress of the games was not helping you any. Maybe you were being a little over dramatic but it was a lot to go to Anfield let alone an away match. It was all too much so he told you it was better for you to watch from the comfort of home. You were roughly due in about a week or so at this point. Your parents and Winnie were coming in a few days so they’d be at your house soon as well. Trent had left yesterday to travel to Leicester for a match. So once again, you had opted to stay home for his match and watch the clash at your place with Marcel. Between your anniversary, your family coming, Trent’s game, and your baby you felt like you were going to explode both mentally and physically.
“Sorry to be a pain, Marce, can you help me get up?” You giggled and looked at him for some assistance. Your once very comfortable couch had really become a pain in the ass for you. The cushions were so deeply set it was hard to get yourself up on your own.
“Yeah, course.” He stood up and held both your hands to pull you up. Marcel was a saving grace when Trent wasn’t around. You felt a little bad that his friend, i.e. you; had become a pregnant woman he had to stay home with and help get off the couch as opposed to your previously very fun nights at Anfield drinking. You walked about halfway to the kitchen before the worst pain you ever felt ran through you. You were terrified it was another episode of what happened the other week when you were rushed to hospital. That was until you felt a pop sensation and water hit the wooden floor.
“Marce…. “ you yelped. He just hummed barely acknowledging you, keeping his attention on the match. “No, seriously… Marce.” You whined. The sudden pain had you bending over. He turned his head towards you and saw you wincing in pain.
“Fuck” he jumped up from the couch. He ran over to you. “Wait… wait what the fuck do I do?” His eyes widened in panic as he rushed over. Your water had broken.
“Marce… I can’t exactly wait can I? I need you to take me to hospital.” You were trying to slow your breathing. You were attempting to remain calm but seeing the younger boy in front of you absolutely shell shocked was not helping.
“Well, what do we do about Trent… I’ll call him right?” Marcel babbled asking you questions you didn’t have the mental capacity to answer right now, placing his hand on your back, waking you towards the door. All your preparations for this moment had gone out the window.
“Marce… I don’t know, I've never done this before!! We need to go to hospital now!” He nodded, panicking. He let go of you and ran to grab his keys. You heard him pick them up and then drop them nervously running back over to you muttering to himself. He helped you into the front seat of his car. He was in a full blown panic attack and it definitely was not settling your nerves.
“I don’t know the directions to hospital… hold on” he mumbled out tapping at the dashboard in his car into the maps app.
“Marce… I said it inside I can’t exactly ‘hold on’ right now. Can you just take a deep breath for me because your fucking stressing me out.” You quipped at him. He nodded at you, still focused on getting the GPS to work. He figured it out eventually and got on the motorway. Of course, this happened when you were with him. You had called Trent about 10 times to no avail. He hadn’t answered and he hadn’t responded to any texts either. You took a break calling him to ring Dianne, insisting Marcel try Trent while you spoke with her. You needed to tell someone other than Marcel you were having this baby.
“Di… hi, yeah. Erm…well I’m pretty sure I’m going into labor so…” she gasped you could hear her bobble her phone almost dropping it. “In the panic I forgot the baby bag we packed though. Could you go to our house before… I wasn’t thinking.” You started to get upset at how poorly you felt you managed this unfolding. Tears forming in your eyes. Your breath getting lost somewhere in the car. It didn’t help that your contractions were getting rapidly more intense. “No…no, I haven’t heard from him. He hasn’t picked up.” You explained to her that you hadn’t been able to get in contact with Trent yet. Saying it out loud only heightened the emotions.
“He’ll be there hun. I’ll grab the bag and see you soon. Try to take a breath, it’s all going to be just fine. Tell Marce to relax as well.” She gave you a sympathetic laugh knowing Marcel was probably freaking out, which he was. You appreciated her calm demeanor. You arrived at the hospital still unable to reach Trent. You were sobbing. You couldn’t calm down until the nurses literally made you calm down with a sedative. Trent was out on the pitch whilst all this was happening unknowingly thinking you were happy at home watching him. He came in from warming up and sat down in the dressing room. He began to start preparing his match ready kit when he saw all the missed calls on his phone.
“Oh shit! Fuck!” He yelled, standing up from his locker room stall. He read the 100 messages you sent him all reminding him that you were going to have his baby and you’d like him to be there.
“Where you going mate?!” Andy yelled out as Trent ran out of the dressing room abruptly. He notified someone on the coaching staff and they cleared him to go. Trent was going to leave regardless of the consequences frankly.
“I'm having a baby.” He shouted frantically to Andy while messily throwing his things together and grabbing his bag sprinting faster than he ever had on any pitch before. Thank god the game was only about 2 hours away.
“He’s not here… I can’t believe hes not here. He’s going to miss this” you said, attempting to stifle more cries, squeezing Dianne’s hand in the hospital room for support. “Can you call him again?” You whimpered looking up at her distraught. All you could think of was Trent. You really appreciated Dianne being with you but you wished it was his hand who you were holding. Your contractions were starting to become stronger and closer together when Dianne heard the slaps of slides running down the hallway. A nurse guided Trent, still dressed in his full Liverpool warm ups, into the room towards you. You felt so nauseous but seeing Trent provided momentary comfort.
“Sorry, sorry. I’m here. I got you. You're gonna do great, baby. Hmm?” He cooed, pressing a kiss into your hair, wiping some off your face as the doctor explained what was going to happen to Trent.
“T… I’m so glad you’re here.” You whined as people in the room rushed around. It all felt like a foggy haze and a painfully slow one at that.
“I would never miss this.” He smiled at you, pressing his lips to you again. “I’m so proud of you, Y/N. I love you, baby. I’ll be here the whole time. You’re gonna do so well. You’re so strong, okay? I love you so so much.” he murmured interspersed with more kisses. Well… it was fucking horrible but your were as strong as you could be for your new little family, for your baby girl, for her daddy. When she arrived the world blurred. The only thing that existed in your life was the most beautiful baby girl you’d ever seen. You were almost oblivious to the rest of the process. One hour ago your lives changed forever when Teddy Marie Alexander-Arnold entered the world.
The pain from earlier slipped away leaving you in love with the brand new tiny human laying on your chest. It felt like a dream. She was far too perfect to be real. A little while later Trent watched as the nurses laid her tiny head on him. He whispered to her and started to cry a little looking at how small she was on his chest. Watching it his emotions unfold made you start crying. He laughed with a sniffle seeing you get worked up over it all so he leaned over and pressed his perfect pout your daughter had inherited to your lips with your little girl in between you two. It felt like your very first kiss. Only now, you were parents.
“I can’t believe how perfect she is.” You mumbled quietly watching Teddy have a big yawn back in your arms. You giggled at just how remarkably pretty she was.
“I can, she’s your daughter. Makes sense.” Trent cooed rubbing his nose against your cheek. He said that and you obviously knew she was, hell, you could definitely still feel that she was but she was a carbon copy of Trent. God, just the exact spitting image and you loved every bit of it. During your whole pregnancy you’d have conversations about who’s features you’d want her to have but secretly you wanted just this. She looked identical to him. She only existed for a little over an hour but you could see Trent clearly in her big brown eyes and perfect pout. Tiredly, your little girl looked up at you two, now awake, catching her every movement. It was then when you watched in real time Teddy wrap Trent around her tiny little chubby finger.
“Hell of an anniversary present, huh?” You teased Trent as his eyes filled with love hearts looking at his precious baby girl hold onto his one finger with her whole hand.
“She is the most perfect gift. You could ever give me, one that we created. Thank you so much for carrying our baby girl. Allowing me to do this with you. You’re amazing, baby. You’d think those words would’ve lost there meaning over the last couple hours from the amount of times I said them. I swear they’ve never lost an ounce of their weight, seriously. They have never been more true. I knew you were amazing from the moment I met you on 78th Street. God, you were like super glue on my brain. The second I looked into your eyes that beautiful stare never fucking left. Your strength and resilience never cease to amaze me, Y/N. I know you’re rolling your eyes but you really do inspire me. You inspire me to be a better man, a better person. Some days I'm just amazed you even manage to put up with me. You've amazed me throughout our entire relationship.” Trent ended his monologue with a kiss to your lips. He was going to keep talking until you cut him off.
“T… I can’t cry anymore, please.” You whine with a giggle. He needed to stop talking like that or you’d start bawling. “I love you, baby. We are so lucky we have you.” You looked down at your baby girl with a feeling you’d rarely experienced before. Confidence. You were confident. So sure in the fact that Trent would always take care of you two. “Thank you, T. Really, thank you for being the best source of strength for both of us. You’ve been perfect the whole time. I’ve always said this but your dedication is so incredible and you’ve been incredibly dedicated to building an amazing life for me and her. Thank you for being you. I couldn’t have done this without you. As much as you are my boyfriend, my life partner, my baby’s daddy, it made this all the more special that you’re also my best friend, T.” Trent’s lash line filled with tears. He rested his forehead on yours.
“She’s ours, baby. All mine and yours.” He cooed as you tilted your head up for kiss.
Tyler, Marcel, and Dianne sat in the waiting room ironically impatiently. A TV in the room of the hospital was on SkySports quietly buzzing on about the latest reports happening in the Premier League.
‘Trent Alexander-Arnold has been removed from Liverpool’s line up tonight.’
The TV muffled out the news. All three of them picked their heads up to see the report deducing what possibly could have caused the unforeseen change. They just laughed knowing what Trent was doing was beyond worth missing a match. A nurse came before the segment about Trent ended advising his family they could come and see you. Shortly after, you heard a timid knock on the door. Dianne appeared with Marcel peeking in. They were quiet as you sat beaming on the bed with Trent sitting on its edge both still admiring Teddy.
“Congratulations, my baby boy” Dianne came over and gave Trent a tight hug. “So proud of you. Congratulations, sweetie.” She leaned over and kissed your forehead and you smiled up at her. “Oh my goodness isn’t she just perfection. I feel like I’m having Deja vu. You look just like your daddy, don’t you?” She cooed in a soft voice as Teddy opened and closed her mouth and leaned her tiny head onto your chest more adjusting to the world. Marcel snuck up behind his mum and looked over her shoulder down at the little baby in your arms. He hummed like he was inspecting her and was satisfied.
“Congrats bro.” He turned to dap Trent up and gave him a hug. “She looks so much like you and yet somehow she’s perfect and pretty…” he joked, eliciting a slap on the arm from Trent. Tyler waited towards the door not wanting to crowd you, ever thoughtful. When a little space cleared as everyone settled in he came a little closer with a big bouquet.
“For TAA the 2nd’s mummy.” He tipped the flowers towards you to see them and you smiled as he placed the arrangement on a table beside you. He turned back to you with a more serious, sincere look on his face. “Y/N, I know we give you a hard time usually but jokes aside we’re so happy you’re a part of our family. We all knew Trent was punching” Tyler spoke softly until he was cut off.
“You said jokes aside?” Trent looked at Tyler confused at why he was catching strays. Tyler rolled his eyes and turned back to you.
“Anyways… we’re so glad you’re here. This little girl is so lucky to have you, really. I speak for all of us, we love you so much.” He squeezed your hand. It was hard that your immediate family wasn’t there for this but when it really came down to it, the Alexander-Arnolds were your family, wholeheartedly. Teddy was so lucky she was born into such a loving family. They always looked after you and you knew they would look after her probably even a little bit more.
“Marce, do you want to hold her?” You looked up at him and at first he looked terrified but then he mustered some courage and nodded. You patted the bed with one free hand telling him to sit next to you and so he did. He turned his head and looked at you closely. Tired but glowing.
“I’m really happy for you, Y/N. You mean a lot to me. If this little girl is even a fraction like you, she’ll be an amazing person.” He cooed and your eyes began to water. “Don’t…” he tried to stop you. You carefully handed him Teddy. “You’re never dating anyone, okay?” Marcel teased stroking her cheek with the back of his finger. Tyler and Trent conquered immediately without a second thought. You almost felt bad for anyone that was going to try to date your daughter in the very far away future. As he held her, Marcel fell in love with Teddy and in someway you felt like you could tell she was with him as well. She seemed to be a quiet baby which was fitting for you and Trent but you were only a few hours into her life, that could change.
You FaceTimed your parents and they cried on the phone. They had a flight to see you in a days time. They wanted to come sooner but your birth was unexpectedly expected. They tried their best to get to you and their granddaughter as fast as they could. You told them not to worry because you certainly weren’t letting go of her any time soon. For the foreseeable future she'd be right there in your arms.
You were definitely nervous to leave hospital. To bring your baby girl home and be alone was a pretty scary thing but one thing you were particularly excited for or at least to document was the ‘hot dad walk.’ You were tempted to share it on social media because you knew the girlies would have a field day seeing Trent carry Teddy out but you decided not to because these were just moments for you to share with him and cherish. Although, you definitely were appreciative of how good he looked walking out of the hospital carrying her.
When you walked into the house and opened the front door you saw the most adorable balloons and big teddy bear reading ‘welcome home Teddy girl’ you wanted to cry but you think you may had run out of tears by this point. The amount of flowers in your home was absurd as well. Every person you can imagine sent massive bouquets. Teammates, friends, family from all over. You felt so loved and you were so happy your daughter was coming into the world that way. Trent carried her inside adorably nestled in her seat asleep. She looked so cute in a little white onesie from Dior with pink patterned detailing and a matching hat. You hugged Trent in the foyer, resting your head on his shoulder.
“Welcome home, baby bear.” Trent cooed looking down at her. You smiled watching him admire her. You got settled in the living room needing to sit down asap. Trent’s family was coming over in a little to help out and see more of her but for now it was just the three of you. It had been a long almost 48 hours at this point so they needed to get home as well. Trent gently picked up your sleepy girl and carried her over to sit next to you. The little girl in his arms looked just like her dad, she didn’t even bother to try with your genes. She had his complexion, his eyes, everything and you loved it. Teddy snuggled into Trent finding comfort and warmth in her daddy’s arms the same way you did. Her little breaths hit against him and he’d pout every time she’d make a little noise, kissing her head.
“So… What do we do now?” You giggled, tipping your head back onto the back of the couch, rolling it to look at Trent. The house was quiet except for tiny hiccups from Teddy. Your life had completely changed in a matter of hours.
“I have no fucking idea.” Trent laughed back at you. “Mum and Dad now innit?” He looked down at his mini me still chuckling.
“T! You can’t swear anymore!” You pinched at him. He gave a ‘come on’ face. Teddy was not even a day old; it wasn't exactly like she was picking up or learning the words as you said them today.
“Should we show her her room?” You giggled overly excited you were finally home with your new little family. You were eager to have Teddy see the nursery you worked so hard on. It’s not like she could say thank you or anything, break down if she liked it or not but it was still cute. You wanted to show her everything you could, introduce her to the whole world. You carried her upstairs and opened the door to the nursery you had carefully put together for her. It was so calm and serene there. Cream walls and warm soft furniture. She had a whole wardrobe, books, toys, you just wanted to sit in there all day with her. Just admire her and watch her get acquainted with her new home. The embroidered Avalon blanket Trent had given you laid over a small couch. You couldn’t believe that Baby Alexander-Arnold sewn into the blanket was now here and had her own name. What you weren’t expecting though was the surprise left on her changing table; a big bouquet of Venus et Fleur flowers, two neatly wrapped gifts with white furry teddy bear holding a card in its lap.
“T…” you pouted at him. Obviously it was from him. He always managed to get things organized when you weren't paying attention, with help of course. He shrugged and took Teddy from you. You sat down on a chair in the room and began by opening the card.
‘To my most beautiful girls, You have my whole heart. Can’t wait to see what’s in store for our family. Love you both forever - Your T’
You started to cry. You thought you’d run out of tears but clearly not. He brushed his thumb under your eye catching the tears, pressing a kiss to your hair. You sniffled back more tears and held up the bear towards Teddy. She looked but didn’t exactly have the best attention span yet. She just stayed tucked to Trent happy in his arms, her little hand sprawled on him. It caused you to let out a small giggle before you mouthed a thank you to Trent. He just rocked back and forth with Teddy and gave you a sweet smile and a wink as you grabbed for the first box. Both were small but you went for the smallest first. Your jaw slacked a little opening it. It was an unbelievable diamond signet ring with the initial ‘T’. It was way too nice, extravagant almost. You’d have it forever but what you really loved was that it was the first thing you had that you imagined you could pass down for Teddy could to have one day.
You opened the remaining box to see a necklace with a gold and pale pink pendant. You held the charm with embedded letters in your palm. You looked at the word ‘mama’ inscribed on it. You couldn’t believe that that’s who you were now. Mama to Teddy Alexander-Arnold. You blinked your eyes to pull back some tears and took a deep breath. You flicked your eyes up to Trent and Teddy, the two most important people in your life, for the rest of your life before standing up.
“So what do you think of your room, baby girl, huh?” You cooed coming to stroke her back. Trent turned her to show her all the things in her room. You smiled at them as he picked up items and explained them to her. She just looked on while he held up little items going through one by one asking what she thought. In a bittersweet way you felt as if you had been replaced. His eyes only on her. Teddy just babbled along with a squeal and a squeak.
“Didn’t mummy do a good job for you?” He said hushed in the same tone as you, kissing her cheek. Then Trent sat back down on the couch in her room. He patted the seat next to him. “My girls. Hmm?” He looked up at you with the most loving smile. Okay, maybe you hadn’t been replaced maybe he had just made room to love both of you.
“So did they win yesterday?” You cooed, coming to sit next to him. You kissed Teddy and cuddled up to them both.
“You mean we” Trent quipped and you rolled your eyes at him. “Yeah, baby, we did.” He laughed a little “but I honestly have no idea what happened. I know Dom got a goal but I will find out more when I go into AXA.” He didn’t pick his head up to look at you when he spoke, his gaze was completely fixed on Teddy. You wiped a little bubble of drool from the corner of her mouth that you thought was adorable. Everything she did was adorable.
Unfortunately, Trent had to get back to regularly scheduled programming; to work. It was torture for Trent to have to leave you and her to go into training but he managed demanding you sent him updates hourly. Teddy didn’t really do all that much though so the updates wouldn’t be that interesting to anyone else. That said, to you and Trent though every little thing was equally exciting as it was endearing. Dianne was coming over soon to be with you for support while he was out. Trent definitely hadn’t really felt great about you being home alone since the hospital despite your reassurance. Before she came, you sat in the living room of your beautiful home with your daughter and it all just felt surreal for the moment. When did all this happen? You thought to yourself. Sometimes you couldn’t believe a silly conversation you had on a street corner spiraled into all this, into a baby. A complete whirlwind. You had Teddy in a little Moses basket while you leaned around you to pluck out all the notes from the flowers and gifts you had received to write out thank you cards. The stack was thick It was going to be a long process but it had to be done. You genuinely appreciated all of them. After your hand got tired from writing and you took some time to feed Teddy you looked at her little face and decided you wanted someone else to see just how cute she was so you called Lauren. You had FaceTimed her in the hospital after she was first born but Lauren wanted to see as much of Teddy as possible until she could meet in person.
“Hellooo” you whispered fairly quietly, still burping your baby girl on your shoulder. When Lauren answered she had her phone laying on the sink counter of her bathroom facing the ceiling while she did her makeup. You smiled when her face finally came on the screen as she picked up her phone.
“Hiii mummmy. Who is that gorgeous girll!?” She managed to keep her squeal almost as quiet as your voice.
“Say Hi Ted.” You moved the phone for Lauren to see her face that was leaned on your shoulder. Teddy opened her mouth with the idea moving towards the phone with a tiny grunt. “No, no, no, baby girl.” You giggled pulling it away from her. You and Lauren caught up on her life. Even though it had only been a little over a full day of life with Teddy it was important to you not to make everything about your baby. You wanted to listen to Lauren. Things happening in her life were just as significant. So you yapped away often interspersed with Teddy adding in some gurgles.
“Oh! You know who wanted to congratulate you?” She started to laugh. It peaked your interest. Most people you really knew or cared about had already reached out directly. “I saw Chase at a bar. Well I was out and it came up. You had her and he said congratulations.” She laughed rolling her eyes, understanding how insane it was for the man to even talk to her about you.
“Ew! Lauren… Don’t ever say that name in front of my baby again. I decline that congratulations. Absolutely not.” You laughed but it definitely put a bad taste in your mouth. “Oh Di’s here I have to go…” you told Lauren and ended your call knowing you’d likely call her again tomorrow. Like changing of the guards, a few hours later Dianne was gone and Trent was coming home. When he came back from training you walked towards the front door with Teddy to greet him. She didn’t know it yet but she would be excited to see him.
“My baby bear!” Trent cooed. A massive childish grin pulled across his face. His eyes glimmered the second he saw her and her eyes lit up just the same. “You’re so beautiful, aren’t you? Did you have a good 2nd day in the world with mummy and nana?” He carefully pulled her out from your arms and into his. He kissed her all over, swaying back and forth continuously rattling away to her about his own day like she understood everything he was saying.
“Just take a nap baby” Trent cooed, pulling you further back into him. You had retreated to your bedroom exhausted. You laid back on your bed tucked in Trent’s arms with Teddy on your chest, all three of you completely spent from the last 72 hours.
“T, I don’t want to be away from her.” You turned your head back to Trent, resting your chin on your shoulder. You were serious. You really didn’t want to spend a second apart from Teddy but you were totally drained.
“Just close your eyes for a little, baby, okay? I’ll sit right here with her next to you. We’re right here.” He stroked his hand up your arm. You sat up and handed Teddy to him gently before rolling over to his side settling into the bedding that had never felt more comfortable. “I’ll keep my hand on you. You’ll know she’s here with me.” You nodded and eventually dozed off taking a much needed nap. An hour or so later your eyes began to flutter open in the warm dwindling evening light. You peeked one eye open to see trent holding Teddy in his arms with his phone camera facing them
“Whose that? Is that Teddy and daddy? What do you think, Ted? Think you look like daddy?” He cooed, nuzzling his nose against her cheek. Her eyes lit up looking at him through the phone. “I’m gonna take care of you and mummy forever. Yeah?” He squeezed her gently. She cooed making vowel sounds. You reached out and placed your hand onto Trent’s warm skin.
“Think she looks like you, hmm?” You giggled squeezing his thigh then moving over in the bed to lean your head into the nook of the inside of Trent’s elbow. You looked at your little girl gazing back at you making an identical face to his.
“Well… yeah. Don’t you?” He looked at you and gently turned Teddy’s head towards you and squished his cheek to hers for a comparison. “C’mon, baby. She’s my little twin.” Trent was very proud of his creation. You laughed at him, obviously you were kidding. Their similarities were very very evident. You grabbed Trent’s phone from him to take a photo of them.
“Can you smile for me, my little Teddy bear?” You pinched her chubby cheek and she did what would be considered the best attempt at a smile for a newborn baby.
“Yeah, like be so real right now… she’s perfect.” Trent took his phone back and inspected the photos with a big grin. “Gotta send this one to Jude. I’ve been trying to explain how much she looks like me.” Trent had been sending pictures of your little girl to all his friends who hadn’t met her in person yet. Jude in particular was having a field day getting updates. He was claiming he was the favorite uncle already despite it being a day, despite him not actually being related, despite him being in another country, he was still sure he was the favorite uncle.
You tucked into bed for an attempt at actual sleep. You had coaxed Teddy into her own sleep but you weren’t really she even understood the concept of night time yet. You were mentally preparing to be living by her schedule for the foreseeable future. Teddy was really mellow and slept a lot of the day, would wake to feed and then doze off again. It was definitely adorable but it was definitely equally as difficult. You had made a plan for her to be in the nursery. That was the plan but she got up frequently through the night; hungry. She was very hungry and you were very tired everytime it was your turn to walk over to her room. In the moment of rare down time you cuddled into bed with Trent laying on your side. He wrapped you in his arms whispering behind your ear how much he loved you. How much he cared about you. How proud he was of you. The way his warm minty breath hit the back of your ear had you feeling a way you had almost forgotten you could in the last 48 hours. You pushed your ass back into hin. His breath hitched and moved his lips down to nibble on your neck, sucking sweetly on your sensitive skin. You almost let out a pathetic moan just from being in his embrace and the feeling of his lips. It felt so good to be back alone with him under his touch. It was all so familiar and yet entirely different now that there was a third person in the house. You could feel Trent starting to get hard behind you. His semi hard cock tucked in his boxers brushing up against you.
“Thissss.” He laughed a little, the air from his breaths hitting your skin. “Yeah, this right here is going to be difficult. I didn’t plan on the time I’d have to be away from mummy.” He joked before he rolled over onto his back dramatically with a laugh. You rolled over onto yours and turned your head to look at him.
“Oh poor T…” you teased him. He was complaining about not getting to have sex meanwhile you were enduring all the joyous symptomatic effects post birth. He rubbed his hands over his face and puffed out some air. “You did this to yourself, you were the one ‘oh let me cum inside yada yada… now look.” You gestured to the less than sexy pajamas you were in.
“Hey… you’re still very very hot baby by the way so don’t gimme that. Also, I enjoyed each and every time I did that. I’m not complaining. I’ll do it again.” He gave you a pompous smile. He was proud of himself having sex with you, getting you pregnant, having a baby, becoming a dad. As he should be but right now your body could care less about his pride.
“Again!??? T! You need to stay at least a yard away from me for a bit.” You laughed at him, shimmying over in bed to distance yourselves.
“You’ll come crawling back to me… I know you, baby. You have never been very good at ignoring me.” He teased squeezing at your arm, leaning over and pressing a wet kiss onto your cheek with a ‘mwah’ sound, “You love me, can’t get enough” he laughed as you dramatically wiped your hand over your cheek pretending to be grossed out but the film of saliva it left. You always secretly like it when he did that. “Oh T! Mmm that feels so good. Let me make you a daddy.” He mocked your voice and accent. “Jokes on you, baby, innit. I took you up on the offer.” He teased you back. You rolled your eyes at his bad impersonation before you kissed his bare shoulder. You leaned away from his theatrics to check the baby monitor. You and Trent made a little game-plan for who would be ‘on duty’ during certain hours of the night. Just knowing he’d be with you was doing wonders for your nerves. You survived your first night with Teddy outside hospital at home. Barely, maybe… at least the best you could. After that your days and nights just blended together into one big chunk of feeding, snuggling, napping and changing. And even as difficult as it was every time she looked up at you, clinging to you, it made it all worth it.
It was hard to get ready with a baby. Thankfully, Trent was home that morning, he had the whole day off so he rocked Teddy, standing in your wardrobe watching on while you haphazardly pulled on Hill House Nap dress. It would have to do for now. You weren’t exactly fit to turn out a look at the minute. You came to grab Teddy to feed her before both your families arrived and sent Trent down to talk to the chef about the meal.
You hadn’t really had a moment to think so thankfully you were able to give blanket ideas of what you wanted for a lunch you were having for everyone to get together to your party planner. The plan was to have close family and friends over to meet Teddy. Frankly, you’d usually manage something like this on your own but you couldn’t be asked. To be fair, your planner went above and beyond for this. It was elaborate. You walked into your back garden with Teddy clinging to your chest to scope it all out. It was so beautiful and whimsical, lots of browns and tan colors. Pampas grass arrangements on the table paired with little bears and lots of balloons. You thanked her and she and her team got out of the way before the first person arrived. No one else but good old George. Trent answered the front door and gave him a big hug.
“Mateeeee, congratulations! Where is she?” George asked, walking through the entryway eager to meet what he said was going to be ‘an upgrade for a new best friend.’
“Thanks, bro. They’re both outside.” Trent gripped his shoulder bringing him in the house. George handed him a present. “You didn’t have to bring anything, honestly George.” Trent laughed.
“My mum told me I had to. She’s coming a little later with dad:” George shrugged. Trent grew up going to primary school with George before he moved schools for football. His whole family stayed close with George’s, their respective brother’s ages aligning closely. The relationship was probably one of the reasons he was able to stay so grounded. It was normal as if at 17 he was just in school not gunning for a spot in the first eleven. The boys walked into the kitchen where you had gone after checking out outside. “Wow… Trentski 2.0 hmm?” George lowered his voice a little walking towards you. You hummed. He gave you a hug and asked if you were doing okay before focusing on your new baby. The three of you caught up chatting while Teddy contributed very valuable ‘puh’ and ‘bah’ noises smacking her lips together trying to nom on Trent’s face as he held her before more people started to arrive. It was mostly just Trent’s family, until finally, your own. Your dad knocked on the door and judging from who was already inside you knew it had to be them. So you cheerily walked to the door holding your baby.
“Want to meet my mummy and daddy? Meet auntie Winnie? What do you think, my little teddy bear?” You cooed, smushing a kiss on her soft skin. You opened the door with one hand. Your parents' faces dropped into silent gasps.
“Oh my goodness, look at her.” Your mum sang coming to hug you. You wrapped your free arm around her and picked your head up to see your dad. His face had transitioned into a proud beaming smile seeing you hold your baby.
“We are so excited to meet you.” Your dad cooed, stroking his hand over her, kissing you on the forehead. “Teddy girl, you are already very very loved.” He was right. It was so special to have all your family and friends here that could make it to meet her.
“She’s absolutely perfect.” Winnie pouted looking at you holding her.
“Well come in! I think you know everyone here… if you don’t I’ll introduce you.” You babbled walking further into your house towards the back garden signaling your family to follow. Your parents and Winnie brought an unnecessary amount of gifts for you. So you asked your sister to just put them upstairs for now, thanking them preemptively. Trent got up from his conversation with his brothers and welcomed your family with big hugs. Everyone mingled. George talked with you and Winnie as he watched Trent hold your daughter.
“She is literally Trent… it’s mad.” He spoke looking at you for confirmation. You nodded with a smile.
“The funny thing is, I really thought I was there too.” You joked and George rolled his eyes at you. As much as you loved that they looked so similar there was a part of you that was a tinge jealous of Trent that when you looked at Teddy, you knew she was his daughter. You had to think about it a little harder to find your features in her. You sat and ate a lovely lunch. You had an avocado toastie with burrata and tomatoes. You got about half way through it before you were full. You weren’t really that hungry though so for the remainder you just held Teddy as people tried to grab her attention, taking a million photos. It was all perfect, the weather, the people, the memories you were making. When everyone had finished lunch a lot of them left and got on their way but Tyler and George decided to hang around for a bit. You stayed outside with your mum, Winnie, and Dianne. Your dad taking a nap jet lagged. Dianne and your mum ranted on and on about new born babies; things to do and not to do, how perfect they are, how difficult they can be, what your body is like after birth. Winnie shivered at the latter.
“I think I need a drink. That was a lot to hear.” She laughed, shaking her head trying to get the images that were just explained and unfortunately burned into her memory to disappear. The boys were all inside Tyler holding Teddy as they all watched a footie match in the cinema.
“So the plan’s back in motion now, yeah? You had her.” Tyler spoke, turning his body to Trent and then gesturing to Teddy. “All good to go? What do you think, Ted?” He asked Trent and the little baby in his arms. Teddy just spittled a little. “Erm… not the answer I was looking for but I’ll take it as a yes.” Tyler laughed before Trent came to pick Teddy up with an unnecessary grunt from how ‘heavy’ she was from Tyler’s arms and brought her to sit with him. Cleaning up around her pouty lips.
“You’ve had it for about a year now, mate. Maybe she should hold onto it. You know, on her finger… it serves no purpose in a safe.” George quipped at Trent with a smug face and a raised eyebrow. Trent nodded and shrugged coyly. You had given Trent a beautiful baby girl. If that wasn’t love, Trent wasn’t sure what was… but that wasn’t all he wanted, all he needed. He needed to give you everything in return and that included his last name. He wanted to be a family. One unit. Trent, Teddy and Y/N Alexander- Arnold.
•
Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter … 🤍
Next part - Chapter 7 xx
#trent alexander arnold x reader#trent alexander arnold#trent alexander arnold imagines#taa x reader#taa66#oursfic
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pt. 2
“You always call me that,” Harry Potter said softly. “Full name, like I’m in trouble.”
“It’s your name,” Draco said. “What would you have me call you? Sugar plum? Honeybunch?”
A worrying choking sound filled the room. Harry Potter was… doing something, not smiling but not not-smiling either, something warm and addictive and very pleased.
“No! Nothing like that!”
“Ah. I see. You're more into the whole animal theme. Lambkin? Duckie? Little lion. Or we can go multilingual. Mon petit chou?”
“Malfoy!”
With the beaming, the unfair, unbearable beaming. Wiping his smirk physically, with a hand, “You're right, you're right, cabbage is not an animal, but I'm running out of ideas here, and you’re no help. Snoozypants? Squiddle-dee? Floopsypops?”
Harry Potter laughed so hard he was tearing up. “Is that—is that how you think normal people call each other?”
“Oh,” helplessly, “I’m sorry, High Lord of the Most Esteemed Committee of Naming and Such, is that too far out of the realm of possibility in a world in which Albus Percival Wulfric—”
“Snoozypants?”
“Liked that one, sweetheart?”
There was that blush. The top-to-bottom, hair-roots-to-feet. It made something in Draco’s belly clench, or unclench, or, just, react. It drew him closer somehow.
Harry Potter was still chuckling, tiny little hiccoughs of it making him jump. With another step forward, Draco murmured: “Unless, of course, you have a better idea?”
His eyes were so big. So—startled. Draco, feeling all of a sudden rather predatory, hastily removed himself from Harry Potter’s personal space and launched his overheated body on the sofa. “Well! That’s the matter sorted, then. Snoozlepants it is. I shall make it official upon my next visit to the Ministry. There might be an outcry, at first, but—”
Stopped when Harry Potter was suddenly very close. “Snoozypants,” he said, nonsensically.
“Bless you?”
“No. You said it wrong. You said—something else. I’m Snoozypants, from now on.” Grumpily, almost. Draco, enchanted, was also severely and terribly charmed.
“Well met,” he sputtered, and even put out a hand, like this was a totally sensible thing to do and not, say, a life-or-death situation that required a lot more courage than he ever had. “I’m—” ran out of words.
“Frimpton,” said Harry Potter. “Frimpton Mousipuff Hendersworth. The Third.”
Draco’s eyebrow hiked all the way up. “Mousipuff? That sounds suspiciously close to a certain House in which we both know I was not.”
Harry Potter shrugged. His face was so alight and so impossibly sweet that Draco nearly gagged. “Sorry, nothing for it now. The name’s been decided by the High Lord of Names and So On or whatever it was you said.”
“Hmm,” Draco huffed, oddly happy. “And here I thought I could outrun those stuffy ancestral monikers.”
“You still go by Draco Lucius Abraxas Malfoy?”
Pretending a hex to the chest, staggering backwards, “Point taken. Mousipuff it is.”
“Frimpton Mousipuff. Henderson. The third.”
“Begging your pardon, Snoozles, it was Hendersworth, not—”
“Ah-ha! So you were paying attention! I knew it.”
Somehow, in all this ridiculousness, Harry Potter was now seated next to him, thigh to thigh although the sofa wasn’t that cramped. He was pure ridiculousness in its purest form. Draco’s brain was barely even coming up with syllables anymore.
“Good,” someone said. Harry Potter. He was speaking. “I like it when you pay attention.”
Draco blinked.
“I like it when you—with me,” Harry Potter waved a hand in the very-little space between them. “Like this.”
Ohs kept exploding inside his chest. Highly inconvenient and likely dangerous. “Oh,” Draco said, out loud.
Harry Potter—he—he—lay his head, gently, on Draco’s shoulder. Melted with the biggest, most contended sigh. He was ridiculous and so warm and very real on Draco’s very real body part and none of this made the slightest bit of sense.
Helplessly, obviously, Draco melted too.
(This is not exactly a sequel to this little thing)
#drarry fic#mostly just sweetness#this is a hard part of the month and sometimes we gotta keep our minds busy#anyway: i think harry would greatly appreciate the chance to be utterly silly with someone#and i think draco will give in to him every single time
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under the apple trees
Charles Evenson searches for his wife in 1920 and finds something haunting under the apple trees, or Charles thinks he killed his wife. on ao3 here.
content warnings: references to domestic violence, sexual assault, burying alive, murder, and alcohol abuse.
June 16, 1920.
Charles Evenson awoke to the feeling of an ice pick piercing his skull. The sip of bootlegged whiskey he presumed to be water, had last night’s dinner threatening to make itself known. As the wrinkles in his face deepened — making him look like his father more each passing day — his tolerance for the drink that once sustained his youth deteriorated.
He stumbled to the bathroom, tripping over his own feet as he squinted to avoid the rising sun peeking through the blinds. He had asked his wife to replace the flimsy lace curtains to something more substantial. She refused, whining she had spent hours crocheting them while he was away. He didn’t have the energy to fight her.
The bathroom door was closed, a sliver of light telling him his wife was holed up in there, again. The same sight and pain in his head had greeted him the morning prior, and the one before that.
Naively he had presumed she was avoiding him, throwing one of her hysteric fits after a disagreement. The memory of their fight had evaded him, the cause long forgotten. What remained was dried blood caked to his knuckles, pools of rust-colored stains on their bedsheets, and a knife lodged in the kitchen countertop.
That morning, unlike the two previously, he twisted the doorknob. His shoulders straightened, preparing for one of their early morning fights. It was a habit of theirs. The oak door creaked open to reveal an empty room.
“Hello?” He muttered. The only response he received was the flicker of the overhead light.
The impending disagreement escalated. He let the anger simmer as he went about his routine; using the restroom, showering, cooking himself a breakfast he burned, smoking a cigarette without opening a window.
He half-heartedly searched the rest of the house, paying closer attention to her typical hiding places. She was nowhere to be found. The impending battle jumped another pitch, his nails dug into his palm.
She had insisted on publicly embarrassing him before. Less than a month into marriage, after she had pushed him too far, she had run off to her parents. A weekend with her cousin for Christmas had turned into a week. He was forced to traipse all the way out to Milwaukee. He refused to acknowledge how exhilarating those fights had been. The hours spent sitting in ugly silence as a train engine chugged along, a tea kettle at a near boiling point for an uncomfortable, unnatural amount of time until the kettle nearly exploded. A shrill scream as a room was drowned in blinding steam.
A thrill ran down his spine as he began to think of the hunt. It was cut abruptly by the realization she may not be hiding but hidden.
———————
He pulled his automobile off the dirt farm road, parking in between dense rows of fruit trees he knew well. Despite its density, Charles knew the orchard had not turned a profit in nearly a decade. The peaches were never quite sweet enough, the apples never red enough, the plums too tart.
The Platt’s grove had made a brilliant hiding place for Charles over the years. In the few months they courted, they had secretly met in the orchard a handful of times, away from her mother’s grating inquisitiveness.
Once they were married, many months in, he had met another woman among the trees. One less stubborn, who did not pester, a woman whose name he could not, nor cared to, remember. He had met a half dozen forgettable women thereafter.
A little over a year into their marriage, in the middle of the night he had raced to the grove. His wife wrapped in a bed sheet lying lifeless on the back bench seat. Frantically he had dug a grave under the apple trees, under the light of his headlights and the full moon. Four scoops of dirt had been thrown into the shallow grave — making a point to cover her face first — when she screamed. He helped her out, and they went home and never spoke again.
Less than a month later, after one particularly loud argument, he snuck back onto the property, spending most of the night digging the small hole into a proper grave. He covered the grave with a board and leaves, telling himself it was a precaution. He would never need it.
When he returned from the front the times he thought he would need it were countless — countless fights and snide remarks — but he had never used it, at least not as a grave. An occasional barrel from his friends in New Straitsville had been stored in the hole to avoid his wife’s nagging.
The engine shut off as he stepped out of the car, scanning the night. It smelled like rain and wet soil. The cicadas screamed, a deafening incessant buzz.
He looked for the heart he had carved in the trunk of an old apple tree; hoping if someone ever discovered the symbol they would suspect adolescent antics, not a morbid gravestone. The trunks looked as if they went on for miles, rows, and rows of evenly spaced trees taunting him.
He walked further into the grove, twigs crunching under his boots, his step quickening. The sun was almost done rising, the old farmer was undoubtedly moving about his routine, unaware of the potential disaster lurking in his yard.
Charles could foresee one of the old hounds digging up the grave, dropping her femur at the front door. He shook his head violently, the ice pick returning to its familiar place in his skull.
She was hiding, throwing a fit, mocking him. She was not buried hundreds of feet from her childhood home at the hands of her husband.
His search was a precaution, he would not kill his wife.
The boy’s face flickered across his mind. He shook his head. That was different, war. His life had been on the line, anyone would have done that.
He was not evil. His wife’s screams echoed in his brain, her pleading, the words ‘no, God no,’ beat in his brain like a pulse. The blood, hers, under his nails, on his knuckles, the bruise on his forearm. Disagreements, like any other married couple.
They had disagreements, but it wasn’t the only thing they had. The happy moments. Summer evenings were spent watching the neighborhood as they sat on the porch swing, nursing a drink. The feast she had cooked when he returned home after sixteen months. The taste of apple pie, the promise he made to do better, her genuine smile. The first time he had brought her to his house, she had prattled on about decorations and Christmas stockings. The moment they learned she was expecting, and every moment after, the bump, the kicks, the nursery that would never be used.
The light of his lantern fell on a mound of fresh dirt, five feet long, and three feet wide. Shit. Shit. Shit.
No.
She was not dead.
He did not kill her.
He had not held a pathetic burial for a pitiful woman, and forgotten entirely.
No.
Excuses for the public began racing through his head: she ran in the middle of the night, it was a complete surprise. No, that would lead to questions about why she would leave him. She could not handle the grief any longer. She slipped on the stairs.
He could move, let her slip from everyone’s memory as he lived a life without her.
“Charles?” A deep voice called out through the trees.
Charles's head snapped to attention. “Hello, George,” he called to the father-in-law he had not seen in nearly four years.
He needed an excuse, now, because she was, he did, and he had. Or at least that’s what he believed.
#charles evenson#esme cullen#esme platt#cw domestic abuse#my stories#this scene is referenced in charles evenson's very unlucky day and bride of cullen and i think one more but i couldn't find it#one day i'll make one of those boards with string with all the stories referenced in other stories
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Home brew time!
The plum tree was loaded this year, and I’ve already made so goddamn many pickled plums and plum jelly jars, so I decided to try my hand at traditional winemaking!
Literally just stuffed a ton of whole unwashed, mashed plums into a boiled-clean jar, skin and pit and all, and let the wild yeast on the skin start to ferment it.
The jar on the right is pure plum mash.
The jar on the left is half plum mash, half water/honey. It IS fermenting, but got a slower start (prob from less yeast due to less skin)
I’m thinking of doing a yeast transfer from the bottle that’s already bubbling like crazy.
I’m sitting here watching my yeasts ferment and fizz, emotionally wagging my tail like a dog watching someone holding a treat.
The plan is to do a second ferment in a few days using modern yeast that’s been bred for a higher alcohol tolerance
First time winemaking myself, though I watched my dad explode a 5gal carboy of fermenting wine as a kid :D
The airlock got clogged, and pressure built up enough to break the glass and send wine spattering the ceiling, flooded the dining room, and dripped thru the floorboards into the basement. Mom banned winemaking in the house after that.
And now I’m doing it in my own house.
Generational fascination with yeasts I guess
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My media this week (1-7 Oct 2023)
📚 STUFF I READ 📚
🙂 Under Alien Skies: A Sightseer's Guide to the Universe (Phil Plait, author & narrator) - The Bad Astronomer paints pictures of what the sky would look like standing on the surface of other planets, asteroids, etc.
😊 Initiation (Sex Wizards #1) (Alethea Faust) - erotic BDSM fantasy - actually a bit more plot & worldbuilding than I was expecting tbh, entertaining
😞 Miss Aldridge Regrets (Canary Club Mystery #1) (Louise Hare, author; Georgina Campbell, narrator) - This isn't a mystery the MC investigates, it's a mystery that happens TO her. She was tediously passive, seeming really rather naïve & foolish (esp given her age and life experience) and entirely in denial about pretty much everything that happens to her (since she's being actively framed for murder). However, the very short interval chapters from the killer's perspective did hook my interest and left me genuinely curious about the mystery. At about 44% I jumped to the end to see how the mystery resolved. I'm counting it as read since I did read over 50% of it.
😍 A Most Agreeable Murder (Julia Seales, author; Fiona Hampton, narrator) - comical pastiche/parody mashup of: Jane Austen (specifically), regency-set/gothic novels (in general) & Agatha Christie/country house mysteries - funny & entertaining, deftly done. Very Nightmare Abbey vibes in the absolute best way. I enjoyed all the caricature characters but 'overlooked tedious (but secretly a [redacted]) sister' Mary was my fave, absolute gothic queen
💖💖 +94K of shorter fic so shout out to these I really loved 💖💖
I'm dating the least inquisitive man in Ottawa (GlitterCity) - Rachel Reid's Game Changers: Troy Barrett/Harris Drover (but really mostly gen), 4K - cute, really nailed the character voices
Tinder Is the Night (rohkeutta) - MCU: stucky, 6K - hilarious, forever fave [reread]
Stay (fandomfluffandfuck) - MCU: stucky, 31K - silver fox/old guard Dom Steve subbing for newbie Dom Bucky - great character voices, hot af sex!
bitten hand guides best (frankoceansmoonriver) - The Witcher: Geraskier, 33K - lovely little fic with werewolf!Jaskier & witcher Geralt
📺 STUFF I WATCHED 📺
Make Some Noise - s2, e1
Dirty Laundry - s3, e2
Only Murders In The Building - s3, e10
Deadloch - s1, e1-8
Our Flag Means Death - s2, e1-3
D20: Burrow's End - "The Red Warren" (s20, e1)
D20: Adventuring Party - "Stoatal Recall" (s15, e1)
🎧 PODCASTS 🎧
Re: Dracula - October 1: Not My Own Master In The Matter
Welcome to Night Vale #235 - Book Club
What Next: TBD - Inside Crypto's House of Cards
Re: Dracula - October 2: Play for the Stake of Human Souls
⭐ The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Searching for Squids with Dr. Sarah McAnulty
Ed Zitron's 15 Minutes In Hell - Episode 9 - David Roth
Re: Dracula - October 3: The Holiest Love
Into It - Tech Bros Laid the Foundation, but Women Built Social Media
The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Enchanted Woods
Switched on Pop - In Defense of Crunk
Re: Dracula - October 4: It Is Like Death
Vibe Check - Freedom, Cut Me Loose!
The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Baobab Fare
⭐ Shedunnit - Agatha and Plum
Twenty Thousand Hertz+ - Wilhelm Scream Remix
⭐ Song Exploder - Alvvays "Archie, Marry Me"
Re: Dracula - October 5: Baptism of Blood
Today, Explained - Caste away
Re: Dracula - October 6: My Affairs of Earth
Dear Prudence - My Girlfriend Is Always Late! Help!
Endless Thread - Find A Grave: Social Media Icon
Into It - Are Bed Bugs and Katy Perry Out for Blood?
Today, Explained - Who shot ya, Tupac?
Switched on Pop - Metro Boomin Wants Some More
ICYMI - Stop Snitching on Main
⭐ One Year - 1955: The Hiroshima Maidens
🎶 MUSIC 🎶
Troubadours From the Tribe
Alternative Radio • 2000s
Foundations of Metal
Rob Zombie Radio • 2000s • Familiar
Metal Radio • 1980s
Manowar Radio
"Give It Away" [RHCP] Radio • Familiar
Stand And Deliver: The Very Best of Adam & The Ants {1999}
#sunday reading recap#bookgeekgrrl's reading habits#bookgeekgrrl's soundtracks#a most agreeable murder#my new living room furniture finally arrived!#i am luxuriating in having a comfy place to sit again!#watching a lot of great TV!#deadloch#omitb#ofmd s2#dimension 20#burrow's end#heavy metal music#adam ant#adam & the ants#rhcp#one year podcast#shedunnit podcast#the atlas obscura podcast#song exploder#re: dracula#welcome to night vale#vibe check podcast#switched on pop podcast#twenty thousand hertz+ podcast#into it podcast#endless thread podcast#what next: tbd podcast#today explained podcast#dear prudence podcast
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A group of guys try to jump Tiffany. Chucky somehow manages to kill them all whilst Tiffany just stares like 😀.
After that Chucky could act all calm and cool as if nothing even happened lmao.
Could you write this scenario? I really like your work, you're a talented author.
Aw thank you for the compliment Anon!!!! And yeah sure!!! Let me know what you think!!! Hope you enjoy!!! Hope this is enough. 😅
It was a cool summer night, the blissful breeze flowing through the town whistling around stray leaves and loose pieces of asphalt that had eroded off the ground. The hour unknown but the sky was dark, only the moon dared shine, illuminating the walk ways. There a couple blissfully walked, these two being no other than the infamous Charles Lee Loman Reinhardt or more commonly known Charles Lee Ray or as his friends called him Chucky and his wife and lover Tiffany Delilah Ray. Now walking in their flesh human skin, a fresh change from the plastic that once housed their souls. Charles has his arm wrapped tightly around his wife’s waist his grasp rather protective much to Tiffany’s satisfaction trying her best to suppress a gleeful giddy smile. These little late night walks were something used to do as a little “romantic” outting when they were first human and it thrilled Tiffany when her husband of all people suggested to pick up the habit again. However for a brief moment Charles released his grip stepping aside taking longer strides moving further ahead. Tiffany sighed but continued to follow after him, she knew he wanted his space for a bit since Chucky wasn’t one for constant company and needed a solitary moment to decompress and clear his head. Tiffany understood and would rather him have space than letting his suppressed rage bubble up to the surface and explode. His moments alone allowed him to process…to relax. She knew he loved her and their family but she understood the need for space from time to time.
Chucky took a moment to himself strolling aimlessly enjoying the cool damp atmosphere dampen his face. The silence soothing to his ears as he strolled down the path, a sly grin stretching across the side of his face. His body loosening releasing tension in his muscles, his shoulders slumping and his mind beginning to wander elsewhere. However his mind snapped back to reality at the sound of discourse and he her his wife was involved.
…
Tiffany was never one to approach conflict when she had no element of surprise or any sort of advantage. She knew her physical strength couldn’t match that of 5 grown hefty men. For an instant she regretted not bringing her nail file or any sort of blade on her since she thought she would set a bad example since she was a mother now and had responsibilities and made a promise to her kids….Glen….that she would cut back on the brutality. One of them men had overstepped and made a feeble attempt at grabbing her wrists only to be slapped right across his face. The man winced clutching the side of his stinging cheek, pressing his upper canines down attempting to suppress the irritating ache.
“Bitch” he grumbled under his whisky stained breath, making another attempt at grabbing at Tiffany. Tiffany made another attempt to swat his hand away only to have her wrist retrained. She could feel the man’s grip tighten with each yank, his grip like sandpaper against her silk skin.
…
The redhead took note of the disturbance in the air and once recognizing it as Tiffany’s he bolted. His body tensing at each smug retort. Chucky took hold of me of the younger slender fellows slamming his skill into the near by flag pole with flawless ease, he assumed he left the man unconscious since he didn’t get up for the rest of the interaction not giving a twitch. Chuck set his sights on another one standing at 6 feet once typically an obstacle for his previous doll body but now standing at 6’4 he paid no mind. He gripped the lads throat squeezing it till his face turned to that of a hybrid blueberry plum hue. He continued to squeeze until he felt the throbbing pulse in the man’s leg weaken by the second till it thumped against his finger no more and only then he dropped the limp body to the earth from were it once came. Finally the last one. The one with the stupid lopsided face. Eyes to far apart, nose to close to the lips, a nasty snaggletooth, and a large mole on the side of his face under his right eye. Nothing appealing in Chucks eyes just garbage begging to be tossed away. However this piece of shit touched his women…His Woman…he’ll be damned he if allowed that vermin to breathe. Without hesitation he snapped, grabbing the man’s arm and twisting it till he felt something pop or snap. Then sending a fist right through into his nose setting it up a few inches to a spot that would make his face easier on the eyes of crimson hadn’t been dripping from his nostrils.
Tiffany could only watch feeing a rush run through her system as a grin stretched from ear to ear watching her husband do what he does best. And all of it for her. Something a girl could only hope for. A man who took initiative.
Chucky continued to swing beating down at the man till his face was no more that pumpkin pulp….red runny pulp that oozed. Much to his display the man still had a pulse. But no matter….he’ll drag it out….He tugged at the collar and gave it a firm squeeze, feeling left over breath seep out his mouth. Before he could finish the job Tiffany practically threw herself at him pulling her close to his body till there was nothing in between. Wide eyed her killed him in for a kiss locking lips with his, tenderly at first then growing into passion once he reciprocated all while choking a man with one hand and his arm help high while the other warmly wrapped his way from Tiffany’s waist ensuring she wouldn’t slip away. With once final squeeze he hear something snap and dropped the corpse wrapping his other free hand around his press pressing harder into their kiss feeling her smile as he gripped at her. And he could feel himself smile too.
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I'm listening to Daughter of White cover by Viking. And I'm just.
Dying because the whole Yard Fire AU, actually started when I made Mike as Clarith ("demon child"; she was the only albino with red eyes girl) & Garrett as Micheala!-
Yeah: Micheal in the au is! albino, but the normal(??) one; white hair and blue eyes. — Micheal & Abigail survived, having Garreth be the one killed inna petty demand from King William.
Vanessa escapes early, but her last name is tainted. She's an Afton, and Micheal is angry at that last name.
He was going to kill her; at the sea-side on where Garreth -> plum haired prince - saved him.
But.. he saw himself in her.
Lonely, without anyone to believe them, etc. (though in the next week he knows that her brother; Casside, is there in the house beside his own(more of a shack, but yeah) -> due to not sleeping (first things of becoming the vessel of Sloth). So someone does believe in her. Just like Abigail believes him. He sees himself more in Vanhumrigh because of that..)
Exploding you with my mike & garrett brother relationship(again! Not actually related in this AU!)
the song is so cool!! their cover is beautiful
and oooo albino!!! thats so interesting… and poor mike and vanessa </3
#blizz’s nonsense#ask!!!#sotogalmo#kellie/audrey/amy!!!#mike schmidt#garrett schmidt#abby schmidt#Yard Fire AU#vanessa shelly#vanessa afton#fnaf au#fnaf movie#fnaf movie au
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@internerdionality was the asker that generated the You're Awful, I Love You timeline (Eddy and Izzy stay together). I wanted to write more in this timeline and they suggested a few things, including Stede and Izzy having to play nice. Spoiler alert: Izzy does not do this.
This takes place roughly three or four months into their new arrangement. Izzy has not met Lucius yet. Realized when I woke up this didn't make sense timeline-wise. So Izzy has met Lucius, but I think he'd still be pretty bitter only a few months out from that.
He’s in the garden when his fragile peace is intruded on. Eddy had planted a fuckton of tomatoes this year for who knew what reason considering she refused to eat them raw. So he was out there picking them and thinking about sauce. He could jar it and foist it on Roach, he’d probably want it. Keep some to make a few pizzas. He’d stripped most of the plum tomatoes and was working on the hefty beefsteak ones when Bonnet showed up.
His incursion into the backyard raised Izzy’s hackles, but he just watched the overdressed buffoon pick his way through the maze of hostas. To Izzy’s displeasure, Bonnet was clearly trying to reach him. He briefly considered going deeper into the tangle, maybe ducking into the tall grasses but that was just delaying the inevitable. Bonnet was a stubborn fucking prick when he felt like it.
“Good afternoon!” Bonnet waved when he got close enough. “How are you?”
“What do you want?” Izzy asked tiredly.
“Can’t a man just talk to his girlfriend’s husband on a fine summer day?”
Izzy plucked a tomato so hard the vine threatened to come out of the ground. “No.”
“Ah.” Bonnet rocked on the heels of his shiny shoes. “I just…it’s their birthday in a few weeks.”
“Yeah.” Like Izzy hadn’t been the only one to remember the date for years. “And?”
“And I’m a bit at a loss for what to get her. I mean I’ve got a gift but it feels…insufficient.”
“Uh huh.” Izzy was not particularly in a gift giving mood this year, all things considered.
“Any advice?”
“No.” Izzy picked another tomato. It was heavy and he indulged himself in a fantasy of throwing it at Bonnet’s head. It would probably explode in a very satisfying manner.
“Ah ,only I imagine you’ve done it quite successfully before-“
“Do you think this is a team sport?” Izzy dropped the tomato into the basket instead. “Just because I’m not standing in the way doesn’t mean I want to lend a helping hand, you ass.”
“It just seems that it would be easier if we got along.”
“Easier for who?” Izzy challenged. “For me? Doubtful. For you? Probably would make you feel less guilty. For her? This is how she wants to make the bed, she can damn well lay in it.”
“Yes, I imagine she can,” Bonnet sighed. “I don’t think it’s a secret that I’m no fan of yours, but I’m willing to make an effort.”
“Congratulations.” Izzy gave up pretending to work, putting down the basket, he stood and crossed his arms over his chest. “Are we done here?”
“I was thinking of a trip. The two of us. For her birthday. “
And it was almost as tempting as the tomato, to give him the wrong direction. But then Eddy would be miserable and that wasn’t ever his goal.
“She hates airplanes. And most cities.”
“Why?”
“Ask them.”
“It’s just-” Bonnet started then stopped. “I don’t know how to do this right.”
Izzy decided he had enough in the damn basket and picked it up, heading back to the house. He could hear Bonnet on his heels and pulled out his phone.
Izzy: your white knight is here
There was no reply. Eddy had taken her bike out this morning, so she could be anywhere, doing fuck knew what.
Izzy set down the tomatoes and started filling up a pot of water. He’d have to blanch the fuckers and he might as well do it now. He could hear the man taking off his shoes, like he always did. Like Izzy didn’t just vacuum daily to keep up with the detritus Eddy dragged in constantly.
“What are you doing?” Bonnet asked, with a genuine curiosity. He was always curious, a million questions that he heard Eddy answering over the phone without ever tiring.
He set the pot on the stove and turned the flame on high. Then he got down a bowl and filled it with ice from the trays and then carefully refilled the trays.
“What are you doing?” Bonnet asked again as if perhaps Izzy hadn't heard him.
“Praying for death,” Izzy muttered and got out a knife.
“Who’s?” Bonnet asked wryly and Izzy had to give him that one.
“Anyone’s would be an improvement.”
“Can I help?”
He wanted to say no, but it was a lot of tomatoes and Bonnet was apparently just going to hang around like a bad smell regardless.
“Get a damn knife. Cut the stems out then do an x on the bottom.”
They worked quietly through all of five tomatoes before Bonnet started up again.
“We could have a party.”
“No.” Izzy cut carefully.
“Why? Does Eddy hate parties too?” He huffed.
“No, fucking loves them. I hate them. You do it, if that’s what you want.”
“But wouldn’t you do it for them? You know. So it’s nice for them?”
Izzy eyed the knife. It wasn’t very big. Bonnet wouldn’t bleed out or anything. No. No. Eddy would fucking murder him. He sliced into the tomato instead.
“What do you think this place is?” Izzy gritted out. “What do you think my life is, Bonnet?”
“It’s...a very nice house? And I’m certain I have no idea about your life. It seems very...organized.”
“Everything is for her. So it’s nice for her.” He checked the water, not yet boiling despite his anger probably bringing the temperature in the room up several degrees. “I did all that and it still wasn’t fucking enough, so no. I will not help you throw a party or take her on a trip or whatever else you’re thinking. You were enough by just fucking breathing as it turns out, you can figure it out on your own.”
He could feel Bonnet’s eyes on him as Izzy went on slowly carving up tomatoes.
“It wasn’t the breathing that did it.”
“I couldn't give less of a fuck what did it.” Like it didn’t keep Izzy up at night wondering. “And if you’re about to tell me like you think you know where all my failings are, please do us both a favor and shut the fuck up.”
Bonnet did, in fact, shut the fuck up. Very briefly.
“So what ARE you going to do for it? Anything?”
He exhaled sharply, “Why does it matter?”
“At the very least, I don’t want to repeat an idea.”
“Maybe I’m not doing a goddamn thing, how about that?”
Bonnet frowned, “What? Really?”
“Really.” He repeated in a mocking way.
“But-”
“But what?” Izzy finished the last of the tomatoes. “You can win this one. You can give her whatever big splashy thing you want. World class trip, huge party, bathe her in fucking jewels if you want. Get your round of applause if you want. I’m making it easy for you.”
“I don’t....she always talks about the things you give her. Honestly, it’s a bit intimidating. Neither of you do small gestures.”
Did they? Izzy tried to imagine that conversation and failed.
“What do you mean neither of us?”
“Well, Eddy does things pretty grandly-”
“Know what they did for my birthday this year?”
“...no?”
“They were with you, Bonnet.” He dropped the last tomato into the basket.
“That...no,” he could hear the frown without even looking. “That can’t be right.”
“I wasn’t pissed about it. They never remember. They don’t remember their own birthday. If they remember yours this year, it’ll be because it’s still novel. Eddy doesn’t really do dates. I’ve been their calendar for years. Anything you do will probably make her fucking ecstatic, but it would if you did it just because it was Tuesday too.”
“Is that what you do?”
“I don’t wait for it to be some mystical date to give her shit, I’ll tell you that much,” and fucking hell, he was helping. He wasn’t supposed to be helping.
“What about your anniversary?”
Izzy turned, surprised by the question, “What anniversary?”
“Your wedding anniversary, surely you do something for that? Or when you first met? Something?” Bonnet had stopped helping some time ago and was now just turning the ring on his pinkie finger around and around.
“Uh,” Izzy felt caught out. Were they supposed to do something? “No?”
“Oh dear. It’s only...I’m a little sentimental and I’d like to do something for those kinds of days.”
Izzy set down the knife. He stared at Bonnet. Opened his mouth then shut it hard again. Eddy and sentimental were not two words Izzy linked in his head. But....
“They're different. When they're with you,” he admitted. “If you want to be sentimental with her, she’d probably fucking love it.”
“How do you know that they don’t want it from you?” Bonnet challenged.
In the distance, Izzy heard the roar of a familiar engine and relief flooded through him.
“Water is boiling,” he determined and turned to start dropping in tomatoes one by one.
“You’re a very strange man,” Bonnet declared.
“Yep.” Izzy dropped in another one. He listened to the engine approach then cut off into silence.
“Thank you, I guess. Some of that was almost advice, you know.”
Izzy flipped him off, keeping his eyes on task. The front door opened and Eddy called out, “Stede?”
“Hi honey!” Stede chimed, rabbiting off to greet her.
Izzy watched for the moment the skins split, the contents threatening to go with them. The slotted spoon landed them safely in their icy bath. He did them in small batches. It took three rounds before he could hear Eddy’s tread on the floor. She crossed to him, but didn’t get into his space, just leaned on the sink.
“Did you tell Stede that I spent your birthday with him?” She asked, low and dangerous enough that the hairs on the back of Izzy’s neck prickled.
“He fucking asked and I told him I didn’t give a shit,” he said firmly.
“You know that he does though. That kind of thing matters to him.”
“Good for him,” Izzy fished out a tomato then turned to face her. Her hair was down today, windblown from her ride. She had on jeans and a cashmere sweater in sky blue. Touchable, soft. Approachable. And yet Izzy would feel safer petting a tiger at that moment.
“You’re stirring up trouble,” she accused.
“Am I?” He held her gaze.
“You’re still angry,” she determined.
“Yeah, no shit. I’ve been angry since birth. Probably die mad. Seems likely.”
“Izzy.”
“Eddy,” he returned. “What do you want from me? He comes here and asks me how to woo you. And I’m supposed to do what? Even if I knew what the fuck that looks like, I wouldn’t draw him a picture.”
“What do you mean you don’t know what that looks like?”
“I don’t! I just...kept being there and hoped you’d notice. It wasn’t exactly a mastermind plan, was it?”
“It worked,” she pointed out with a laugh and some of the tension went out of the room.
“Yeah, guess so.” He smirked. “Should I tell him that? Just stick around and be fucking useful?”
“Nah. I don’t like Stede because he’s useful.” She reached out and twisted the front of his shirt in her fingers, then pulled him in close. “You smell like the garden.”
“Yeah,” he reached back, getting a hand under her sweater, the familiar terrain of her waist sliding under his palm.
“I don’t like you because you’re useful either.” She nipped at his jaw, a warning shot. “And you fucking wooed me by being a dependable, loyal, funny little asshole, who’s fucking dynamite in bed, thanks very much.”
“Dynamite?” Izzy’s brain went offline.
“Mm. And,” she moved to his ear, biting down on his earlobe. Hard. “Sentimental. In our way. I know about the box under the bed.”
They did? Of course they did. It wasn’t like he’d chosen an ingenious hiding spot for it. And he wasn’t embarrassed of it exactly. Just maybe not proud either. They were just notes, not even romantic ones. Scribbles they’d made over the years, instructions, random thoughts, shopping lists. Izzy hoarded their handwriting, it’s odd loops and swirls that seemed impossible to throw away.
“I-”
“Save it.” She kissed him at last, long and liquid,then straightened up. “Stede is heading back to the city in a few hours. Night is still ours, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Izzy said roughly. “Sure.”
“Good. Stop trying to poison the well, idiot. You’re drinking from it.”
Then she was gone. Izzy stared after her for a long minute, then started peeling the skins off the tomatoes. If he timed it right, he could get the sauce on pasta tonight for dinner. Taking what she’d grown and making it something to nourish her. Maybe that was the way he was sentimental too.
And anyway, he knew for a fact Bonnet couldn’t cook worth a damn.
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2022 in Music
Here is a note about the music I listened to in 2022. I hope you enjoy it!
Favorite Albums of 2022
Blue Rev - Alvvays
Banger after banger after banger on here!
Favorite Songs:
After The Earthquake
Tile By Tile
Belinda Says
Bored In Bristol
A Light For Attracting Attention - The Smile
This is essentially a Radiohead album with a jazzy twist. Accordingly, it belongs here, among my favorites of the year.
Favorite Songs:
Speech Bubbles
Open The Floodgates
Free In The Knowledge
Skirting On The Surface
Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe In You - Big Thief
My most anticipated release of the year that easily surpassed my highest expectations. It explodes into several beautifully creative directions and where it could overwhelm with its ambition it tends to endear and make you smile.
Favorite Songs:
Change
Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe in You
Flower of Blood
Red Moon
Promise Is a Pendulum
12,000 Lines
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Runners Up
Dawn FM - The Weeknd
Once Twice Melody - Beach House
LABYRINTHITIS - Destroyer
Ice, Planets, Lungs, Mushrooms, and Lava - King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard
Dripfield - Goose
Music for Animals - Nils Frahm
Liked It
Misadventures of Doomscroller - Dawes
I’m Not Sorry, I’m Just Being Me - King Hannah
Good and Green Again - Jake Xerxes Fussell
Hell on Church Street - Punch Brothers
Time Skiffs - Animal Collective
Ants from Up There - Black Country, New Road
Humble Quest - Maren Morris
The Joy of Music - Ben Rector
The Jacket - Widowspeak
Underground Complex No. 1 - Typhoon
Fear of the Dawn - Jack White
Omnium Gatherum - King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard
Giving The World Away - Hatchie
Break Me Open - S. Carey
Romeo & Juliet - Ryan Adams
One is One - Delta Spirit
Two Ribbons - Let’s Eat Grandma
Big Time - Angel Olsen
Preacher’s Daughter - Ethel Cain
Cruel Country - Wilco
The Loneliest Time - Carly Rae Jepsen
Surrender - Maggie Rogers
Teeth Marks - S.G. Goodman
Take It Like A Man - Amanda Shires
Sons Of - Sam Prekop & John McEntire
Chloe and the Next 20th Century - Father John Misty
Reggae Film Star - Damian Jurado
Freakout/Release - Hot Chip
Will Of The People - Muse
WE - Arcade Fire
Birds In The Ceiling - John Moreland
Profound Mysteries II - Röyksopp
sandhills music - Ben Seretan
The Blue EP - MORE&MORE
I’m Sweating All the Time - Wormy
Heartmind - Cass McCombs
The Liar - John Fullbright
Midnights - Taylor Swift
Changes - King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard
Rolling Golden Holy - Bonny Light Horseman
Into the Blue - Broken Bells
I Walked With You a Ways - Plains
Laminated Denim - King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard
ILYSM - Wild Pink
Being Funny in a Foreign Language - The 1975
And In The Darkness, Hearts Aglow - Weyes Blood
Schvitz - Vulfpeck
MUNA - MUNA
Cowboy Ballads, Pt. 1 - Jesse Tabish
Drew Winn - Drew Winn
Can I Take My Hounds to Heaven? - Tyler Childers
Blue Skies - Dehd
Harry’s House - Harry Styles
Ali - Vieux Farka & Khruangbin
Meh
Quitters - Christian Lee Huston
Chris - Ryan Adams
Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers - Kendrick Lamar
Plonk - Huerco S.
Palomino - First Aid Kit
Alpha Zulu - Phoenix
God Save the Animals - Alex G
No Rules Sandy - Sylvan Esso
Not from 2022
Ram - Paul McCartney, Linda McCartney
Plum - Widowspeak
Tago Mago - CAN
Ege Bamyasi - CAN
Night Moves - Bob Seger
Dots & Loops - Stereolab
Haven’t Listened Yet...
ForeverEverAndEverNoMore - Brian Eno
Empire Central - Snarky Puppy
Björk - Fossora
Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Cool It Down
FM - Ryan Adams
Entering Heaven Alive - Jack White
V I N C E N T - FKJ
Inside Problems - Andrew Bird
Kumoyo Island - Kikagaku Moyo
Dropout Boogie - The Black Keys
Headful of Sugar - Sunflower Bean
Everything Was Beautiful - Spritualized
Electricity- Ibibio Sound Machine
(watch my moves) - Kurt Vile
You Belong There - Daniel Rossen
El Mirador - Calexico
Unlimited Love - Red Hot Chili Peppers
Things Are Great - Band of Horses
caroline - caroline
Pompeii - Cate Le Bon
The Dream - alt-j
Anaïs Mitchell - Anaïs Mitchell
Laurel Hell - Mitski
Silver Sash - Wovenhand
Concerts Attended in 2022:
The War on Drugs - Cains Ballroom - Tulsa, OK - 6/4/22
John Fullbright - Fassler Hall - Tulsa, OK - 10/2/22
Spoon - Austin City Limits - Austin, TX - 10/9/22
Goose - Austin City Limits - Austin, TX - 10/9/22
Kacey Musgraves - Austin City Limits - Austin, TX - 10/9/22
Luke Combs - Paycom Center - Oklahoma City, OK - 12/9/22
The Book of Mormon - Eugene O’Neill Theatre - New York, NY - 12/21/22
Links to past lists:
10 Albums that changed my life
2012
2013
2014
2015
2016
2017
2018
2019
2020
2021
_________________________________________________
Happy Listening!
Jake
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Some days I can go nearly an hour
without thinking of the taste
of your mouth. Right now, I’m at school
watching teenagers fidget through a test.
Outside, the sky is smoky and streets are wet
and two grackles step lightly in yellow grass.
Two weeks ago in Atlantic City
I stood on the boardwalk
and looked out across the water –
the railing was cool, broken shells
dappled the beach – I had been
playing the slot machines
and lost all but a dollar. I
tried to picture you in Paris,
learning the sound of your new country
where, at that moment, it was already night.
I thought maybe you’d be out
walking with the street lights
glossing your lips, with your eyes
deep as this field of water.
Maybe someone was looking at you
as you paused under the awning
of a bakery where the smell
of newly risen bread buttered the air.
I remember those suede boots
you wore to the party last December,
your clipped hair, your long arms
like the necks of swans. I remember
how seeing the shape of your mouth
that first time, I kept staring
until my blood turned to rain.
Some things take root
in the brain and just don’t
let go. We went to
a movie once – I think
it was “The Dead” – and
near the end a woman
told a story about a boy
who used to sing: how, at 17,
she loved him, how that
same year he died. She
remembered late one night
looking out to the garden
and he was there calling her
with only the slow sound
in his eyes.
Missing someone is like hearing
a name sung quietly from somewhere
behind you. Even after you know
no one is there, you keep looking back
until on a silver afternoon like this
you find yourself breathing just enough
to make a small dent in the air.
Just now a student, an ivory-colored girl
whose nose crinkles when she laughs, asked me
if she could “go to the bathroom,”
and suddenly I knew I was old enough
to never ask that question again.
When I look back across my life,
I always see the schoolyard –
monkey-bars, gray asphalt, and one huge tree –
where I played the summer days into rags.
I didn’t love anybody yet, except maybe
my parents who I loved mainly when they
left me alone. I used to have wet dreams
about a girl named Diane. She was a little
older than me. I wanted to kiss her so bad
that just walking past her house
I would trip over nothing but the chance
that she’d be on the porch. Sometimes
she’d wear these cut-off jeans, and
a scar shaped like an acorn shone
above her knee. In some dreams I would
barely touch it, then explode. Once
in real life, at a party on Sharpnack Street
I asked her to dance a slow one with me.
The Delfonics were singing I’ll never
hear the bells and, scared nearly blind,
I pulled her into the sleepy rhythm
where my body tried to explain.
But half-a-minute deep into the song
she broke my nervous grip and walked away –
she could tell I didn’t know
what to do with my feet. I wonder
where she is now, and all those people
who saw me standing there
with the music filling my hands.
Woman, I miss you, and some afternoons
it’s all right. I think of that lemon drink
you used to make and the stories –
about your grandmother, about the bees
that covered your house in Africa, the nights
of gunfire, and the massing of giant frogs
in the rain. I think about the first time
I put my arm around your shoulder. I think
of couscous and white tuna, that one lamp
blinking on and off by itself, and those plums
that would brood for days on the kitchen counter.
I remember holding you against the sink,
with the sun soaking the window, the soft call
of your hips, and the intricate flickers
of thought chiming your eyes. Your mouth,
like a Saturday. I remember your
long thighs, how they
opened on the sofa, and the pulse
of your cry when you came, and
sometimes I miss you
the way someone drowning
remembers the air.
I think about these students
in class this afternoon, itching
through this hour, their bodies new
to puberty, their brains streaked
with grammar – probably none of them
in love, how they listen to my voice
and believe my steady, adult face,
how they wish the school day would
hurry past, so they could start
spending their free time again, how
none of them really understands
what the clock is always teaching
about the way things disappear.
“Slow Dance” by Tim Seibles
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Refrigeration Was A Wonderful Invention When It Wasn’t Trying To Kill You
Over the years, Cincinnatians have discovered myriad methods to kill themselves. Breweries alone offered boiling vats, open shafts, toppling equipment and exploding barrels. At home, poisonous wallpaper, flammable nightgowns and yawning cesspools claimed many lives. As if we needed any additional hazards to jeopardize our safety, the Twentieth Century introduced yet another deadly contraption – the refrigerator.
The Cincinnati Post [22 June 1920] related one incident that nearly ended in tragedy:
“Firemen carried several tenants from upper floors of a four-story building at Eighteenth and Main streets Tuesday when ammonia fumes, escaping from an ice machine in the cellar, entered corridors and apartments. A valve in a machine that supplies refrigeration in the butcher shop of John Stegner, first floor of the building, blew off shortly before 10 a.m., causing the fumes to escape.”
The circumstances involved here were fairly typical for Cincinnati in the early 1920s and 1930s. Refrigeration was just beginning to enter the domestic market and most electric refrigerators were installed by businesses. In the early days, the noisy refrigeration machinery was usually relegated to the basement. The coolant of choice for most commercial systems was ammonia. Some of these installations were ponderous, as reported in the Post [10 March 1930]:
“Attempting to shut off ammonia pipes after a compressor head broke in the 15-ton refrigeration plant at Hamilton County Tuberculosis Sanitarium Monday at 8 a.m., Gus Leistner, 65, of 914 Findlay-st, engineer, partially was overcome by fumes.”
Later that same year, the University Club at Fourth and Broadway had to be evacuated because of ammonia leaking from its refrigeration system. The Strietmann Baking Company at Central Parkway and Plum Street suffered a massive ammonia spill in 1924. Firemen needed gas masks to enter the Hilberg Packing Company at 516 Polar Street in 1928 when ammonia seeping from the refrigerator filled the building.
Despite such catastrophes, ammonia was the most common coolant for the first thirty years of the 1900s. A Cincinnati firm, the F.W. Niebling & Son Co., of 406 Elm Street, boasted in an advertisement [20 February 1927] that the first ammonia-infused refrigeration plant installed by the company was 31 years old and still “in excellent condition.”
Still, ammonia was connected to so many mishaps that advertisers touted any system that did not involve ammonia. In 1926, the Tudor Court Apartments in Clifton installed a building-wide refrigeration system, with each of the 86 apartments equipped with a Frigidaire unit serviced by a massive compressor in the basement. The owners hastened to advertise that “no brine or ammonia” was used in that system.
Ammonia wasn’t the only chemical employed in refrigeration equipment. Responding to a reader’s inquiry, the Post [22 July 1921] inventoried a veritable witch’s cauldron of compounds used in various systems:
“What is the formula for the solution which is used in the cooling coils of an electric refrigerator? Substances are: Ammonia, carbon dioxide, ethyl chloride, methyl chloride and sulphur dioxide.”
Of that formulary, ammonia’s biggest competitor was methyl chloride, a colorless, odorless, flammable gas. Methyl chloride was more efficient than ammonia and better suited to the small coolant devices required for a single house, as opposed to the big industrial machines cooled by ammonia. Units incorporating methyl chloride were so small they were retrofitted as mechanical ice blocks. Customers kept their old ice boxes, canceled ice delivery and turned on a methyl chloride unit in the same compartment where they would formerly have loaded a block of ice.
Manufacturers also claimed methyl chloride was safer than ammonia. Cincinnati’s Milnor Electric Co. highlighted this benefit in an advertisement [18 March 1923] for their Serv-el Automatic Electric Home Refrigeration products in the Cincinnati Enquirer:
“Important Notice: The gas (methyl-chloride) used in Serv-el is harmless, odorless and non-poisonous. Only Serv-el has this advantage.”
This claim was sorely tested in August 1929 when a rash of deaths blamed on methyl chloride refrigerators was reported from Chicago. The Chicago deaths created a panic among refrigeration companies who appealed to the federal government for assistance. The Cincinnati Enquirer [23 August 1929] reported that three governmental agencies – the Public Health Service, the Bureau of Standards, and the Bureau of Mines – had announced that household refrigeration systems were safe.
“Serious accidents from household refrigeration systems, the statement continued, have been small in comparison to the number in use and added that improvements might be expected that would reduce materially the small hazard that does exist.”
The Chicago deaths gave hope to the consumer ice industry, fighting a losing battle against the march of progress. In an Enquirer advertisement [31 July 1926], the City Ice & Fuel Co. complained that these new-fangled systems required:
“ . . . a complicated, high-cost mechanical-chemical outfit, dependent on a large and continuous supply of electricity to make it ‘run,’ and on some chemical (SULPHUR DIOXIDE OR METHYL CHLORIDE) to create cold – just as ammonia is used in the big ice plants.”
It was, of course, a losing proposition. The old ice boxes were messy, moldy things that really didn’t keep food all that cold and regularly flooded the kitchen with water melted from the huge block of ice delivered by some guy who tracked muddy footprints across your carpet.
All the industry needed was a better coolant, a chemical that cooled your refrigerator but didn’t kill you. The solution came from an inventor named Thomas Midgley Jr., who lived just up the road in Dayton. In 1932, Midgley came up with something called Freon. It checked all the boxes and soon replaced all other coolants for the next 60 years or so.
Problem was, Freon, a chlorofluorocarbon, accumulated in the atmosphere and contributed to the destruction of the ozone layer that protects life on earth from the harmful rays of the sun. So, in essence, to avoid a few disastrous refrigeration accidents, we found a solution that endangered all life on the planet.
Ponder that the next time you pull a brewski from the fridge.
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Cantering Cumulus! Skyland's bravest daughter Sora Harewataru has fallen to Earth! On this strange planet full of concrete jungles, metal boxes, and birds the size of one's hand, Sora must protect Princess Elle, the Hydrogen Baby of the royal family.
However, she may not be alone in her quest! Mashiro Nijigaoka, who sympathizes with her plight, becomes fast friends with our heroine! However, the wicked Underg Empire, plots beneath the surface! What shall happen this episode?
For truth, justice, and a better tomorrow! Cure Sky descends! Don't miss this exciting transmission from Japan's very own Toei Animation Company, Limited!
*Ahem*, that is... Spoilers, I guess...
-Yeah I'm not sorry about that, actually, it was kinda fun.
-Girl punched an excavator. You should probably put some ice on that, Sora-chan.
-What is a hero, anyhow?
-Awwww
-Well, you're known as Pretty Cure to everyone now~!
-Air raid sirens~!
-Purikyua~!
-Hero in the House, bitch!
-Oh hello, granny.
-Mashiro-hime desu ka!?
-What the fuck, why do you have a bachelor pad this huge?
-Hello, grandma!
-"Wow bro, that's crazy. Come in for some tea."
-It's a good thing Sora's Skyland etiquette seems to be almost exactly like the Japanese kind, huh?
-A whole other world~!
-A whole lot of "other worlds" too, but... y'know, let's just focus on Skyland for now, eh? You don't need to know all that so soon.
-Quite the transformation you did there.
-Taking the baby home takes priority.
-What the hell
-Granny prepared all this.
-Ahhhh, baby!
-The story begins.
-Even got a room!
-Getting down on one knee already? Didn't realize you were a love at first sight type.
-Whoa, hey! Knighthood?! I was kidding!
-Dame Sora Harewataru. Legendary Heroine Pretty Cure. Guardian of the Princess. Mashiro's Friend, the title she's most excited over.
-Bedtime.
-Morning!
-Fine earthling cuisine~!
-I fear you would explode if we took you to Oishi-Na Town.
-Borkfast
-Right in the taste plums.
-Rose oil, cinnamon stick, dried frog.
-Is Granny Niji some kinda magician?
-Elle-chan~!
-This is a nice little brass piece.
-Phone!
-You'll be very surprised by our advancements in technology all the time~!
-Robot!
-"Could you... pick out my civvy clothes for me."
-I really liked that sailor outfit and the black jacket one, those were cute.
-This is peak character design tho, very nice.
-Pukutto Bur-Ger...
-Hero?
-Oh ye gods, vines
-Ohhhh
-That's a whole-ass knight!
-Sabaton!
-Ohhhhhhhh, Granny knows a lot, huh.
-I wonder if this is a Heartcatch situation and she used to be a Pretty Cure too?
-Ranborg! Vending destruction and suffering!
-"Why did you pick this one, I wonder?"
-Ohhhh, I get it now. Granny's the knight she saw.
-It's Hero Time!
-I'm floored by this sequence, it's so gorgeous.
-Mugen ni hirogaru aozora! Cure Sky!
-Damn, those drinks are carbonated as fuck.
-"Please be careful :pleading:"
-"Yes, my princess!"
-Spinning! PreCure Counterattack!
-Naming your attacks, a very based thing for a hero to do!
-Pretty Holic Stationery~!
-For the lass who dreams of a hero. For a girl who wishes to be-
-INVINCIBLE SEASON 2, COMING OUT 2023 BABYYYYY!!!
-"Oh by the way, you might see other PreCures in the ED. Uh, just go along with it, there's a lot happening!"
-Might be a bit before we get to see Prism in action. That's alright, I can wait.
-Wing, my precious boy, I await you. Funny how we don't know your name yet. You're absolutely that orange borb I didn't comment on.
-Butterfly, you lookin' fine.
-Zounds! Our next installment of Hirogaru Sky Pretty Cure! Elle-chan has gone so long without the loving embrace of her mother and father that she has become tragically homesick! Cheer up, Hydrogen Baby! Sora-chan will do everything in her Tune in next time! Same Sky Time! Same Sky Channel!
#hirogaru sky pretty cure#hirogaru sky spoilers#hirogaru sky precure#pretty cure#precure#Hop! Step! Jump! Hero Gals Dream of the Everlasting Sky!
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