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#charleston single house
gallusrostromegalus · 3 months
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*ghost sound*
Bestie you're welcome to haunt me but I live in a house with six or more animals, four people with ADHD and/or echolalia-heavy autism, and an HVAC system that dreams of being a symphonic orchestra, so you're gonna have to make more than just the one ghost noise to get any attention.
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mzv11 · 2 months
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Find Your Way Back 2
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Pairing: Venus Bronson (black, fem OC) x Roman Reigns
Warning: language & angst
Word Count: 2.2 K
Catch Up: Part 1
Venus was standing outside of the gorilla when a hush fell upon the room. She felt a heavily soft tap on her shoulder. “I never knew that I was in the presence of greatness earlier. The Final Boss, huh?” Joe teased, Venus faked a blush. “Tribal Chief…you sound impressed.” She laughed. “Oh, I’ve seen your work and I’m very impressed. Tough break on the accident. Seeing you as champ would’ve been dope. But retiring undefeated is a boss ass move. Hey, we’re going to dinner at the hotel…could I talk you into joining us?” Joe smiled. He hoped that she’d say yes. “I suppose that I could grace you with my presence. Catching up with y’all could be fun. Wait…I’m still on the clock,” Venus smiled. “Get out of my sight Ms. Bronson. I’ll see you in Lexington. Don’t beat him up too bad.” Triple H laughed as he waved her off. 
“This is our big little brother, Sefa.” Jon laughed as Venus and Solo engaged in a slight stare down across the table in the lockerroom. “The Bloodline’s Enforcer. I’m familiar with your work Sefa.” Venus growled, her gaze never breaking from his. “And I’m familiar with yours now Ms. Bronson.” He smiled, he was first to crack. She smiled back. “The van is here.” Joe announced as he grabbed his backpack. They walked to the loading dock and got into the van. Venus sat in the back, of course Joe sat next to her. “You think she’s letting him get some tonight?” Jon joked to his twin. “Oh nahhh! I wish she would tho. He’d be a lot less broody. I don’t know how y’all do it every week with him. Last I checked, she was seeing someone. Some baseball player.” Josh shrugged. It had been a while since Josh checked, Venus had been single for 6 months. She was excited to be having dinner with Joe and the rest of the Bloodline but she was going to her hotel room alone. “How are your parents?” Venus mumbled to Joe as the van emerged into the nighttime. “Mom and Dad are really good. How are your parents?” He smiled. “They’re great. I was able to retire them. Bought them a house in Charleston. They ask about you all the time. I tell them to turn on Smackdown.” She laughed. 
“This view is pretty nice. This is how The Tribal Chief lives, huh? You fancy.” Venus laughed. “Yeah, this is what it is now.” He sighed, standing next to her on the outdoor patio. The slight chill in the air was refreshing, the silence that fell over downtown Cincinnati was peaceful. “I’ve missed you girl.” Joe sighed as he grabbed her hand and kissed it. “You were the one who changed their number. You were married, I get it. I don’t know how I’d feel if my man was still good friends with the woman he dated before we got together. It would’ve been fun to invite you to sit ringside at one of my matches though.” She sighed. “I’m sorry Venus. But…we can restart from here, can’t we? I’ve missed my best friend.” He smiled down at her. “I suppose we can. And I’ve missed you too.” She laughed, playfully bumping him with her hip. “Good! Let’s go inside, I can’t keep you all to myself.” He teased. “Oh I know! I’m here to have dinner with all of y’all…not just you.” She laughed as he held the door open for her. Of course his eyes examined her ass when she walked by. 
They all sat down and ordered drinks, Venus ordered top shelf bourbon. Jon ordered blackberry lemonade. Sefa ordered a Stella Artois. Josh ordered Hennessy. Joe ordered vodka with cranberry and lime. “I see someone’s still a basic bitch.” Venus laughed. “It’s hard to mess it up. I see someone still drinks like a pirate.” He teased back. “You damn right!” She laughed as the waiter sat her glass down. They ordered and sat talking while they waited for their food. Joe neglected to mention his failed marriage, he didn’t want to bring the mood down. Venus’s presence made his soul smile. “V, you should drive down to Lexington with us for the show.” Sefa said. “Oh, Josh already asked. I’m still fun on road trips. Big guy, want to come with?” she nudged Joe, winking at him. “I’d love to but I have some meetings and I gotta find a new place.” he groaned. If one of those meetings wasn’t with his soon-to-be ex-wife in regards to the name change of the toddler that wasn’t his, he could’ve rescheduled. “I think you should move closer to your parents. They’re older and would love that.” she laughed. “Ain’t nobody moving back to Pensacola!” he laughed. “I was thinking more like the Atlanta metro area. It’s like a 5 hour drive or a short flight to Pensacola.” Venus explained. “I been trying to tell him! Move to the A, Uce. Come find you a shawty that went to Spelman.” Josh laughed, taking a swig of his drink. “How far away from your parents are you?” Joe grumbled. “Now, I’m 5 hours from Charleston. I had to get out of Miami, my sister loves to show up unannounced with the kids. They all want to come hang out with Aunt Venus, while their mom thot bops around trying to find them a stepdaddy.” Venus laughed. “Venus, where do you live?” Jon asked. “I just closed on a sweet spot out in Buckhead a couple weeks ago. I’m hardly in Miami anymore anyway. I’ve outgrown that life.” Venus scrolled on her phone looking for the listing to the home she just purchased. Josh cleared his throat loudly. “Buckhead? Wow…maybe you should be paying for this dinner.” Joe joked. “Aye…I didn’t invite me to dinner! Once I’m settled in, I’ll invite y’all over for dinner. But y’all gotta bring your ladies, don’t want them thinking crazy about some random woman cooking for their men.” Venus laughed.
Dinner was just like old times. They laughed and talked about what they had all been up to until midnight. “I’m going down to the bar, the Warriors are playing.” Venus laughed as they walked onto the elevator. “Yeah…nah. I’m taking my ass to bed! Checkout’s at 10. We’ll meet you down in the lobby then. Don’t get left!” Josh teased as the elevator stopped on his floor. She didn’t see him hit Joe, but she heard it. “Want some company?” Joe asked loud enough for his cousin to hear. “Oh, sure.” Venus smiled as he moved to the back of the elevator with her. Jon and Sefa were sharing a room on the floor below Josh. “Now, y’all stay out of trouble.” Jon laughed as the doors closed behind him. “Could you put the Warriors game on this TV?” Venus asked the bartender. The man turned the channel and came to ask what they were drinking. “Jefferson Bourbon, leave the bottle, two glasses and two waters.” Venus spoke to the bartender. “Venus…my sweet Venus. I have missed you.” He sighed, downing the drink in one gulp. He frowned as the strong liquid sizzled on his tongue, Venus stifled a laugh. “We shoot Jack. We sip Jeff. Unless you are trying to forget about something. Is that what it is?” She asked, he nodded slowly.
Before he could catch himself, he told her everything. “You telling me this…I’m free to dislocate her shoulder right? How dare that bitch treat you like that?! You are a precious Samoan angel and you deserve the world!” Venus grumbled as she downed her drink in one gulp. “Thank you for that. It really means a lot coming from you.” He smiled at her. This was the first time he talked about it without wanting to cry. “Anytime Joe. I meant that shit too.” Venus spoke, refilling their glasses. The bottle emptied and they talked about life until the bartender dropped the check off. Venus pulled her card from her pocket and handed it to the man. “Drinks on me.” She laughed. “You need help to your room?” Venus asked. “Nah, let’s go.” He slurred. They discreetly held each other up as they walked to the elevator. Once the door closed behind them, they both groaned. “I‘ve never been able to outdrink you.” Joe laughed. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. “I know. I drink like a pirate. What floor are you on?” Venus sighed, feeling his warm breath against her skin. “8. You?” he grumbled. “6.” Venus spoke as the car stopped at her floor. “Goodnight Joe. You sure you’ll be ok?” she smiled. “Mmm….yep.” he slurred. “Hold on.” she pulled him out of the elevator behind her. Stopping at the vending machine, she bought two Gatorades. “Take these. Let’s get you to bed.” she sighed as they walked back into the elevator. “I need your key darlin.” Venus spoke. He laughed. Venus reached into his jacket pocket, only his phone was there. She cautiously reached into his pants pocket, there it was, nestled against his semi-hard dick. “Room number?” Venus sighed. “8…69.” he laughed gruffly. “I’m fuckin’ with ya. 827 at the end of the hall. If you wanted to come to my room…you could’ve just said that. I’ve always got enough strokes for you sweetheart.” he laughed. “Yeah, that’s not happening Joe.” Venus groaned as she tapped the key against the handle. “Maybe next year?” he laughed, opening one of the Gatorades. “Who knows what the future holds? Oooh, this shit is nice Joe.” Venus sighed as he turned the lights on.
He sat down on the bed and kicked his Jordans off. Venus went to use the bathroom before heading back to her room. A silence fell over the room as Venus washed her hands. She cautiously opened the door and walked out. As she got closer, she could hear him crying. “Hey Big Guy, you ok? When did you become a crying drunk?” she spoke softly, her hand caressing his hair. “What did I do to deserve this? Cheated the entire time we were married, while I’ve been nothing but faithful. I’m on the road busting my ass to give her a good life and she brings another man into our bed. Got me raising another man’s child like a fuckin’ idiot! I loved her so much and she’s ruining my goddamn life!” he mumbled, burying his face into her stomach as she stood next to him. His warm tears quickly stained her shirt. “And you’ll find someone to love who loves you just as hard.” Venus sighed, running her fingers through his soft hair. She hated seeing him sad like this, he wasn’t a crier. “Goddamn woman…you smell amazing!” he growled playfully, inhaling her scent deep into his lungs. “I know! I’m gonna go. You need rest and I don’t want to risk getting left in Cincinnati.” Venus laughed. “You could always come with me.” he laughed, pushing himself up until he towered over her 5’10 frame. “I could, but then I’d fight that bitch. I’ve retired from goonery.” Venus  laughed. “But you’re the prettiest goon!” he laughed, his large hands cradling her ass. “Yep…gonna go. Goodnight Joe.” Venus spoke, feeling the energy slowly starting to change. “Thank you for always letting me just exist with you. I don’t have to be anything other than who I am. It’s rare to find, so I appreciate it.” His voice boomed as he kissed her forehead. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her against his chest. “No problem, there’s always room for you under my umbrella. Now get some rest and I’ll talk to you later.” Venus smiled, hugging him back before pulling away. “Text me when you get to your room?” he smiled as he walked her to the door. 
Five hours later…
Venus sat down on one of the plush couches in the hotel lobby, her earbuds blasting the latest Megan thee Stallion album. She busied herself scrolling through the email about her call time for the house show when Jon appeared in the seat next to her. He had a huge grin on his face. “Heyyy girl. How you doin?” he laughed. “I’m good.” she spoke cautiously. “Have a good night?” he grinned. “I did. You heard otherwise?” she laughed. “No, did you and Big Uce…reconnect?” he laughed. “Eww no! We drank, I walked him to his room and I went to my room and went to bed. I got up and got a quick workout in, took a shower and grabbed some coffee.” she laughed, pushing herself up from the couch. “Oh…it was quick? I’ll talk to him about that.” Jon laughed as he grabbed her bag and headed towards the front. “I’m not doing this with you today Jon.” Venus laughed. “You know I’m just messing with you. He already told us nothing happened. He did say that you got him good and drunk and then took care of him. No hangover. Thank you, he needs that.” Jon laughed as they climbed into the backseat of a tan Suburban. “I love how y’all love him.” Venus laughed. “Meanwhile, you told him that he could always stand under your umbrella.” Sefa laughed. 🎶Under my um-bar-ella. Ella. Ella! Aye! Under my um-bar-ella. Ella. Ella! Aye!🎶 the twins sang while Sefa did a little body roll. “Y’all are so damn unserious!” Venus laughed. This was going to be the longest 90 minutes.
Read Part 3 here
Tag Squad: @southerngirl41 @theninthwonder @gomussy @alichesmi @claymorexpunisher @tribalchiefreigns @romanreignkisser @romanreignseater @papireigns-05 @babiidee28 @purplehairgawdess @jstarr86 @alyyaanna @po3ticb3auty @christinabae @fame-ass-ers @miyuhpapayuh @vebner37 @reci1996 @marvel1995 @annoyedkayah2395 @sexxilatina @cyberdejos2 @jeyusos-girl @acknowledge-reigns @msbluehaz3
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1950 completely renovated home in Charleston, South Carolina has 6bds, 6ba, $995K. This home is an estate in the front,
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and a farmhouse in the back.
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As you can see, there's been an extensive reno. The only thing I question here is, Why did they choose a modern industrial staircase?
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As you can see, they went very ornate. The home has been opened up, a carved mantel was installed, plus a new floor and columns (It may have been a support wall, by the looks of the beam and columns). The flooring, however, looks like it has a deep reddish stain.
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But, here it looks brown. I like the redder one, and I don't know why they would put different flooring in an open concept space.
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There's a another seating area, another fireplace, and a dining area.
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The blue & white kitchen has commercial appliances and granite counters, but the cabinets look like they may have just painted the old ones and changed out the handles.
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Out the back door is a covered patio with the same flooring as the kitchen.
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This area is empty, but it looks like it could be a family room.
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The bath is very fancy. Look at this wall.
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The finish on this bedroom floor is fit for a grand piano. Notice the sliding barn door takes the house back to its roots.
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The larger bedroom has a nice en-suite and must be the primary.
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There's a lot of empty space, especially on the landing. The home goes up a 3rd level to a finished attic.
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They must have bought these chandeliers at a bulk discount. So, this is a family room in the finished attic.
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And, this actually looks like a closet/dressing room.
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Also on the property is a renovated carriage house.
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I think it's meant to be a guest house b/c it's renovated, but has a living room, bedroom and bath. No kitchen.
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The land measures 2.06 acres.
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This is unusual. It's a very fancy gate that says, "Rare Form."
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servegrilledcheese · 7 months
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dear chatgpt please build me a charleston style house with 3 bedrooms 2.5 bath a small library a hobby room and space for a baby grand piano that can accommodate three cats and a little boy for a single mom working as a charity organizer please thank you
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Who is the worst founding father? Round 5: Henry Laurens vs James Monroe
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Henry Laurens (March 6, 1724 [O.S. February 24, 1723] – December 8, 1792) was an American Founding Father, merchant, slave trader, and rice planter from South Carolina who became a political leader during the Revolutionary War. A delegate to the Second Continental Congress, Laurens succeeded John Hancock as its president. He was a signatory to the Articles of Confederation and, as president, presided over its passage.
Laurens had earned great wealth as a partner in the largest slave-trading house in North America, Austin and Laurens. In the 1750s alone, this Charleston firm oversaw the sale of more than 8,000 enslaved Africans.
Laurens’ oldest son, Colonel John Laurens, was killed in 1782 in the Battle of the Combahee River, as one of the last casualties of the Revolutionary War. He had supported enlisting and freeing slaves for the war effort and suggested to his father that he begin with the 40 he stood to inherit. He had urged his father to free the family’s slaves, but although conflicted, Henry Laurens never manumitted his 260 slaves.
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James Monroe (April 28, 1758 – July 4, 1831) was an American statesman, lawyer, and diplomat who served as the fifth president of the United States from 1817 to 1825. He is perhaps best known for issuing the Monroe Doctrine, a policy of opposing European colonialism in the Americas while effectively asserting U.S. dominance, empire, and hegemony in the hemisphere. He also served as governor of Virginia, a member of the United States Senate, U.S. ambassador to France and Britain, the seventh Secretary of State, and the eighth Secretary of War.
As president, Monroe signed the Missouri Compromise, which admitted Missouri as a slave state and banned slavery from territories north of the 36°30′ parallel. 
Monroe sold his small Virginia plantation in 1783 to enter law and politics. He owned multiple properties over the course of his lifetime, but his plantations were never profitable. Although he owned much more land and many more slaves, and speculated in property, he was rarely on site to oversee the operations. Overseers treated the slaves harshly to force production, but the plantations barely broke even. Monroe incurred debts by his lavish and expensive lifestyle and often sold property (including slaves) to pay them off. 
Two years into his presidency, Monroe faced an economic crisis known as the Panic of 1819, the first major depression to hit the country since the ratification of the Constitution. The severity of the economic downturn in the U.S. was compounded by excessive speculation in public lands, fueled by the unrestrained issue of paper money from banks and business concerns.
Before the onset of the Panic of 1819, business leaders had called on Congress to increase tariff rates to address the negative balance of trade and help struggling industries. Monroe declined to call a special session of Congress to address the economy. When Congress finally reconvened in December 1819, Monroe requested an increase in the tariff but declined to recommend specific rates. Congress would not raise tariff rates until the passage of the Tariff of 1824. The panic resulted in high unemployment and an increase in bankruptcies and foreclosures, and provoked popular resentment against banking and business enterprises.
The collapse of the Federalists left Monroe with no organized opposition at the end of his first term, and he ran for reelection unopposed. A single elector from New Hampshire, William Plumer, cast a vote for John Quincy Adams, preventing a unanimous vote in the Electoral College. He did so because he thought Monroe was incompetent. 
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letters-to-rosie · 9 months
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revolution-verse cast list
it occurred to me that my little fic universe has a lot of people in it. I figured it would be a good idea to make a cast list so anyone can reference it whenever they want. I'll add people as we go, too
(not including major Arcane characters because yeah)
Powder's gang
Sky Young: Jayce and Viktor's lab assistant in canon; here she's coworkers with them and Powder at Piltover South-Central University's engineering lab
Megan Young: Sky's younger sister; a medical resident at South-Central's university hospital
Scar: the bat Chirean from canon; a part-time student at South-Central, construction worker, and single dad
32nd Street Community Center gang
Marnie: the director of the community center; an old friend of Ekko and Gianna
Gianna Acardi: the Firelight who knocks Caitlyn out in canon; Ekko's friend from high school, employee at one of Piltover's big 3 mining companies, and haver of a ton of siblings, including Ajuna, Nate, and Gabby
Eve: the Firelight who reminds Jinx of Vi in canon; community organizer who is always ready for a new challenge
Mr. Kang: cooks at the community center often; during Powder's early foster care days, he was her neighbor
Gary: frenemy of Marnie's who frequently steals from the community center pantry; works at a nearby homeless shelter (so at least it's for a good cause?)
Nadir: Gary's fiance who also works to provide assistance to the homeless population
Rosmaria: friend of Marnie's who works for one of Piltover's premiere shipping companies, BOL
assorted folks
Ajuna: in Ekko's game lore, a friend he couldn't save; in this story, he's Gianna's step-brother and a large source of her and Ekko's stress (affectionate)
Kai: Scar's infant son
Taze: a friend of Scar and Eve's who is a refugee from Noxus and an expert on resisting oppressive nonsense; has a wife and kids
Amari: Megan's long-term partner; hopes to go to pharmacy school
Isah: member of Finn's gang, the Slickjaws; she and the members she leads defect due to Ekko's influence
Boone: leader of a gang having territory disputes with the Slickjaws; loyal to Silco and Ekko by proxy
Zeray Bask: a schoolteacher and local leader at the New Antima housing complex; termed "Soup Guy" by Powder
topsiders
Charleston Beaumont: youngest son of Amara Beaumont, the owner of BOL; wants to make shimmer an international product, which has led him into a bloody feud with Ekko
Amara Beaumont: in canon a woman Mel introduces to Jayce after his crackdown on corruption at the Hexgates; in this story, a wealthy shipping magnate who spoils her six children
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dollarbin · 3 months
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Shakey Sundays #1:
Neil Young's Neil Young
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My buddy Greg asked me last weekend, very earnestly, why Neil Young? Why is he your favorite artist? Why?
Greg likes Neil. But he doesn't own 38 different Neil records which are what he'd grab, along with his kids and, I guess, the cat, if the house was on fire; nor has he temporarily and blissfully lost all sense of hearing after seeing Neil in concert eight glorious times, once driving 7 hours each way on a work night to do so; nor did he sing each of his safe-from-the-fire kids to psychedelic sleep every night of their childhoods with a steady diet of Powderfinger (my son always insisted the first line was "look out Momma, there's a white bird coming up the river"; if I sang boat instead of bird he'd sit up in bed, his doll Carson cradled in his arms, and howl in indignation), Lost in Space and Little Wing.
(By the way, that fire scenario really happened: long ago, when the kids were still little and there was no room whatsoever left in our tiny home, all my records were stored in a family cabin in the woods; one time I watched the backside of the ridge behind that cabin going up in flames and then rushed home to get everyone, and all of my Neil, into the car so we could get the hell out of there. Everyone/thing made it out just fine.)
In other words, Greg's not me. Plus, he grew up a Pearl Jam guy so we were listening to Mirror Ball as a common ground of sorts when the question, Why Neil Young?, was asked. At that point Neil was hollering about the place called downtown, where the hippies all go, so my first, slightly inebriated, explanation - "dude, I don't know, he's just the best" - didn't really fly. After all, the hippies were dancing the Charleston; they were doing the limbo.
Greg's question is a good one. What attribute can you insert after the statement "Neil Young is the best _____" that adequately describes his odd and supreme genius?
"Poet" doesn't work. Sure, Neil can write about roads stretching out like healthy veins and wild gift horses that strain the reins, but he can also dedicate a ten minute song entirely to describing one person's surplus of mashed potatoes.
Nor can you get away with "he's the best songwriter" when he's released at least 6 different versions of the song Dance, Dance, Dance and much of his oeuvre from the past 10 years spews hot, Promise of the Real sized chunks.
Even Neil's newest robot will probably concur: there isn't any single thing that Young is the stand-alone-best at. (Well, maybe he is the best at screaming into his guitar's pickups...)
And yet, for me, the truth has never been in doubt since I first heard Side 2 of On the Beach over thirty years ago: Neil Young is, and always will be, my favorite musician.
So I think it's about time this blog started wrestling with Neil "Shakey" Young himself. That's why I'm kicking off this weekend with the first of many Shakey Sundays: I'm gonna write about every one of Neil's studio albums, in order.
Those of you who only show up to see if I have more to say about John Darnielle's cooking skills: relax. I'll continue to post Dollar Bin posts on other artists alongside this new project. I promise. But be warned, Young currently has 45 studio albums to his name and I have a ton to say about all of them. So this will take awhile.
I'm not making any promises of the real here: I'll surely take some Sundays off, these posts will often appear, like this one, in truly Shakey fashion, on the wrong day of the week, and I may keel over or get a life before I ever write about Storytone or Fork in the Road. But it's time to give this Neil Young thing a shot, a shot that will ring all around the border, like a venom in the sky. Will we make it? Hey, who knows where or when. But let the Dollar Bin's Shakey Sundays begin.
Here we go:
Neil Young did not yet know how to be NEIL YOUNG in 1968. When putting together his debut solo album he:
Overdubbed instruments and vocals alike instead of leaving everything as live and raw as an octopus that's just been tossed up On The Beach;
Brought in ace session musicians and back up vocalists instead of the wandering cast of reckless, drunken fools who he's been working with ever since;
Boxed up (nearly) every raggedy edge of his sound into tiny, bite-sized morsels instead of pummeling us into submission;
Bounced around from one real studio to the next over three months instead of doing it all in a barn or in front of a crackling fire in the night;
Waffled between, and deferred to, three different producers instead of ordering everyone around like they were his private army of Jawas; and finally,
He recorded while sober.
And yet the end result is a lovely, under-appreciated record, one you're fairly likely to pick up in any Dollar Bin to this day. I suspect a lot of casual collectors have bought Neil Young in the last 55 years based on the twin false assumptions that Joni Mitchell painted the cover (she didn't) and that it'll sound, you know, like Heart of Gold. Lucky for you, those buyers listened to the album once, understood none of it, then chucked it. So go get it already.
I remember picking up my own copy for a buck or two. It was the summer of 1992 and I had a bus ticket to take me from my grandmother's house in North San Diego all the way to my buddy Ned's parent's house in Coronado. I was 16 and had the day off from my summer camp job. Every cent of my huge $46/week salary was in my pocket and I had zero bills to pay nor any responsibilities to speak of. That sounds so awesome.
Anyway, there I was on the bus, feeling groovy. I'm not too spontaneous a guy but I saw a record store along the way and got out; there was yet another shop across the street. Encinitas, CA, was a cool place to be 30+ years ago; today I'm sure those store fronts are both dedicated to the kind of high end vegan yoga wear I'd need to take out a home loan to get into. But oh boy, just imagine how good I'd look...
Neil Young was included in my Dollar Bin haul from that afternoon, as was Time Fades Away. Who knows what else; who knows why I remember any of this.
Then again, I know exactly why I remember this: it was one of the funnest days of my life. I showed up at Ned's a few hours later and showed off my new records to a pretty big swath of 16 year old boys. No one was impressed; at that point Neil's only real claim to fame with grungy white kids was that Sonic Youth had opened for Neil the previous year. No one really cared about Sonic Youth; they only cared that Nirvana had once opened for Sonic Youth.
Poor Kurt was still alive and well at that point; he was the most famous musician on the planet. Everyone wanted to talk about him, not speculate with me about the fact that one single song seemed to take up nearly all of Neil Young's B Side.
So, instead of talking about Shakey, we spent the rest of the day, and night, driving from one 7-11 to another all over San Diego county, hunting for the most mythical of Slurpee flavors: Cinnabomb. That's a quest that I suspect a lot of 16 year old boys could still passionately get behind. Sadly, we never found Cinnabomb, but I did learn how to jump out of Ned's Vanagon with everyone else at red lights and make a lap around the car while screaming.
Good times. No, Great Times.
At that point I liked Neil but was still a year away from lifelong devotion. In a future post about Weld (uh oh, maybe I will need to do all the live records too?) I'll describe what it was like seeing him live for the first time a year earlier; I think it permanently altered the shape of my face. But I was too young to really know it yet.
After 31 years of pretty regular listening to Neil's debut, I'd argue that it demonstrates just how many different paths were open to him as he transitioned away from what was essentially a big deal boy band, Buffalo Springfield.
Neil Young opens with The Emperor of Wyoming, one of the most unique tracks Young's ever produced. As the strings play toss with Neil's slick guitars, opening a comfortable prairie scene to the sun, the wind and to our cheerful gazing eyes, we're given the immediate sense that Young could have wound up becoming a proper musician: scoring films, producing for others, you know, making music for normal people.
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Missing entirely from the track is any sense of underlying menace, and menace is always a hallmark of Young's best work. Rather, it sounds as though the fine people of Wyoming are all holding hands and working together to build their Emperor a lovely barn, a barn no one will ever convert into a recording studio. Rather, everyone will have access; the people's grain will be safe and the Emperor will bestow handfuls of flowers upon every last one.
It's an instrumental track, and how many of those are on all 45 of Neil's albums? There's all of Dead Man, of course, but that's a soundtrack album. Side 2 of Neil Young opens with another instrumental, as well, one that he seemingly had absolutely nothing to do with. And I think that's it! Neil put this great track together, then never made music like this ever again. Wow.
But there's a back story of course: I think The Emperor of Wyoming is a sequel of sorts to a track Young didn't release, in his classic, mercurial fashion, for another 40+ years. Take a listen to Slowly Burning, recorded under the Buffalo Springfield moniker a year earlier. In actuality it's Young in the studio with session musicians, teaching himself how to make beauty.
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Next up on Neil Young is The Loner, and we start to hear the Neil Young we know. There's plenty of that menace I was talking about in the song's titular character: this guy is watching you, probably right now, and if you get off the train at your station alone, he'll know that you are.
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But Neil wasn't ready to unleash such menace sonically: every sense of the chaos he'd tapped into on Mr Soul a year and half earlier is immediately strangled off on The Longer, leaving room for full strings. Young was ready to sing about creeps. But he had not yet decided to sound like one.
The drums suck on this track; the guy responsible would go off and found the band Poco, together with the album's primary bass player, Jim Messina, who is the sole member of Buffalo Springfield that Young welcomed into this project (and Messina was barely a member of the band, only playing on their last record). My famous brother will probably soon tell me that Poco is a a big deal band I ought to get into. He's wrong; I know this even though I have never listened to a Poco record; I simply have intuited that they are un poco terrible.
But back to Buffalo Springfield. I debated starting this entire project with their first record. After all, that's the first thing Neil properly released. That record is great for a lot of reasons. For one thing, it demonstrates that Stephen Stills, at least for a moment, didn't suck. But Neil Young is where we're starting!
The most important hold-over from the Springfield era on this record is producer and pianist Jack Nitzsche, one of Neil Young's three outside producers. Nitzsche is a figure of significant folklore: he's like Phil Spector's mini-me: almost as prolific, almost as genius, almost as nuts. There'll be more to say about Jack on future Shakey Sundays. For now, suffice it to say that he was once arrested for chasing his, and Neil's, former lady friend, Carrie Snodgrass, around her home with a handgun. And then, years later, he and Snodgrass got back together.
Nitzsche seems responsible for much of the greatness within the very best song on Neil Young, The Old Laughing Lady. Every version Neil's ever done of the song is wonderful. He hypnotized himself and every one else present with his coffee house version, busked it incognito on an Amsterdam street corner, rewrote it almost entirely for his 76 acoustic tour, complete with train effects, and laid it down in isolated, after hours perfection during the credits of his otherwise dull concert film Heart of Gold. Next up I hope there's a children's choir involved, singing through his vocoder.
Neil Young's studio take of Old Laughing Lady is a masterpiece. Nitzsche's piano lines are subtle and deft; his production corrects the amateur flourishes that undercut the previous year's Broken Arrow: everything is dense and sparse at once, and the backing vocals, led by the incomparable Merry Clayton a year before she laid down some of the best vocals in any rock song ever on Gimme Shelter, are a surging, moaning pulse that's, once again, unlike anything else Neil would ever put on tape.
But arguably the best thing of all on the song is the bass line. Take a listen.
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That's not Jim Messina. It's Carole Kaye, the only female member of Phil Spector's studio band, later known as The Wrecking Crew. Light years ahead of her time, Kaye is responsible for a bunch of the best notes in all the 60's. She's the bass player on Pet Sounds and Smile; her playing there reset the entire way Paul McCartney played bass. She's on La Bamba, I Hear a Symphony and Love's Forever Changes, plus hundreds of other songs we all know from the late 50's and 60's.
So why don't we talk about her all the time? Sexism people, sexism. The poor woman was abused by her music teacher when she was 13 years old and wound up marrying him and having his child at age 16. Somehow she rose above this all and broke just about every barrier you can imagine in the studio. And good for her: she bailed on the whole hideous scene two years after playing on Neil Young. Now the internet is filled with sweet images of her like this one:
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But why doesn't she play on all of Neil Young? After all, she was in the sessions a year earlier that produced Expecting to Fly and Slowly Burning.
I'm guessing that a) she was too expensive for Neil (she once claimed, without bravado, that she made more as a session musician than she would if she were President of the United States), and b) Neil was already realizing that he's happiest and most successful when surrounded by lesser musicians. No offense Jim Messina, but you didn't freak Neil out with your mad skills. Carole Kaye did.
Much of the rest of the album is filler, stuff Young wrote to flesh out the record and stuff he largely has not returned to since. But most of that filler is great.
Take I've Been Waiting For You. If you set aside Young's uptight, anodyne vocals and the fact that this song is little more than a chorus and a guitar riff, you'll discover that Neil was well on his way to Prince-like studio skills. He stacks up his own organ, piano and guitars atop drums that don't suck. The whole thing, even the unfunny Ha's! in the intro, swings.
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But we've got to end this first Shakey Sunday by taking note of the most important relationship Young began during the record. Indeed he says it was one of the most important relationships in his entire life. Supposedly, Neil was hitchhiking in Topanga Canyon at some point in 68 when a guy even crazier than him, David Briggs, picked him up. I guess we'll buy into that story and wonder if we would have stopped for Neil in 1968. Before you jump to any conclusions, remember what he looked like at that point.
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I don't know about you, but I'd have left his ass on the side of the road.
Briggs had no real qualifications for producing Young or anyone else at the time. But he quickly supplanted both Nitzsche and Ry Cooder in the production booth and helped Neil make more than half of Neil Young. Briggs had exactly what Neil was looking for at the time, and he's still looking for it now: sublime amateurism, both from himself and from his contributors.
Maybe Briggs taught Neil how to run around the car screaming at red lights during their first drive together; maybe not. But either way, he made Neil happy, and he started to get him truly comfortable in front of a microphone for the first time.
Thank God they found one another. Yes, some of what they made on Neil Young is mediocre for Young, and the album's never-ending final track, Last Trip To Tulsa, is one of my least favorite Neil Young songs (except when the Stray Gators are tearing it into wonderful pieces), but most of the best things we'll talk about in these upcoming posts came from the partnership between Young and Briggs.
And so I hope you're out there right now with a similarly sweet partner of any kind, digging your Shakey Sunday.
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adventuresinobx · 2 years
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Love in Secret - Chapter 6
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Drew Starkey x fem!reader
Summary: It’s time to leave Charleston and say goodbye to your boyfriend - at least for a while. But how will things fair long distance, and will the two of you stand the test of time now you’re not together every day?
A/N: I’ve been sitting on this chapter all week because I was so inspired to write it straight after I finished chapter 5. I’ve had this planned for months - and it came out exactly as I wanted 😭💕
Previous chapters: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
Warnings: None, just more cute fluff ❤️
“How are you feeling?” Drew asked quietly, noticing you were particularly quiet this morning. You were just lying next to him, looking away and into the distance, your back pressed against his chest as he wrapped his arms tight around you. It had been a few days since the party and it was time to leave Charleston in less than 48 hours time. You didn’t know how you felt about it all; you’d considered delaying your flight 100 times just to spend more time with Drew. But you decided against it in the end, knowing you could fly out and see him again soon.
One day, you’d be living together anyway, your mind wandering to what that house might look like, whether you’d have kids, what Drew would be like as a dad. You knew it was early to think about these things - but you weren’t putting any of your dream scenarios into motion - you were just excited for the future and the day you two could get together again and you could be where you felt the most wanted, the most needed, in your entire life.
You felt him place soft kisses on your head, his arms wrapped around you. He placed soft and gentle kisses on the crown of your head, his arms snaking tighter around you with every single motion. His facial hair tickled your neck, as he scooted down a little to press kisses on the nape of your neck down to your bare shoulders. You were both still naked from last night’s activities, falling asleep tangled up with one another after the most wonderful and romantic night.
Drew had cooked for you - he was actually getting good at it - and then the two of you popped out to King Street to get some ice cream. You held hands the whole walk down the main road; it was late at night on a weekday and there was barely anyone around so you managed to feel somewhat normal as a couple for once. You had initially been a bit hesitant about holding hands in public but he had managed to convince you that this time of night was fairly low risk. There had already been some reports surface online with his most hardcore fans after one of the other partygoers caught you two cuddling in the back of one of their stories. 
“Just thinking,” you said, running your thumb across his hand, which was draped over you and resting on your tummy. He was so cosy, so warm, and sweet with the way he was holding onto you - like you were delicate and could break any second but with a warmth too.
Your mind flicked back to the night before, how he’d spent a good half an hour making you feel good, his head buried between your thighs, his stubble rubbing against the sensitive skin there. He was so good with you, and so - focused - on you. Another thing you loved about him. You, of course, returned the favour. And by the sounds of his moans, he loved it too.
“About what?” he asked. You shook your head. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to share, but he knew what it was, what had been on your mind for the last few days.
“Just don’t want to leave,” you sighed, “How will I cope with not seeing you every day or getting to snuggle up with you every single night.” You felt emotional that you were leaving your boyfriend soon; you’d been joined at the hip ever since you hit it off. And what would happen when you weren’t together? Would things just drift until you two didn’t know each other anymore? That’s what happened to you in the past.
“I love you,” he whispered, “You know that don’t you. You know I love you so much.” It was almost like he was reading your mind, but he got quite good at that over the weeks and months you’d known each other. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever expect to fall in love in a quiet city like Charleston - never did you expect to fall in love at all - but here you were, more in love than you’d ever been in your entire life and it felt good.
“I love you too,” you said, turning around to face him and cuddling into his chest. You’d miss this, every single thing about this, but you’d stay here and burn this feeling into your memory forever until there was absolutely no chance of you forgetting it. You’d never done long distance before; hell you’d never even really had a relationship before, but you knew you’d make this work somehow. You knew it would be ok.
**
You had gone home that morning, back to your apartment as you had about five or so hours to get everything ready for your flight later. Last night, Drew had given you some gifts to take home with you - a teddy for your sister, a Charleston fridge magnet for your parents (they were collectors of the craziest things) and he gave you his favourite possession yet - his black hoodie which you had seen one of the first times you stayed at his and borrowed it whenever you were at his and the cold nights when you’d sneak out to your “secret” (quiet) area to chat whilst he smoked a cigarette. It was huge and absolutely drowned you, but you liked that about it - and so did he. He had it for years, but he only wanted you to have it when you were gone. A reminder of him, and whilst it wasn’t that useful in hot Charleston, you definitely could do with it where you were from.
Drew had planned to take you to the airport, to say goodbye properly, and you weren’t sure how much you were looking forward to that. It would be hard to say goodbye to him so publicly when you were keeping things somewhat low key but he insisted, and it was nice that he cared enough that he wanted to be there.
It was about midday, and you had finished packing your stuff - the hoodie neatly folded - and ready to go in your backpack which you took on the plane with you. Drew would be here in about half an hour, or so you thought.
Your phone buzzed and you gleefully picked it up but were left confused by the words on the screen.
“Are you free to call me?” It didn’t sound good - but you did as he asked and rang Drew’s phone.
“I’m so sorry baby, they’ve called me in for voiceovers and I can’t get out of it, today of all days. I’m so sorry,” Drew immediately said, not even saying hello or anything. He just wanted to tell you. He sounded disappointed and your face showed you were too.
“That’s ok babe,” you said, trying to be strong, “It’s not like we won’t see each other again.” You held it together pretty well, but the tears did prick at your eyes.
“I’m so angry,” he said, and you heard something like his fist slam into the wall, followed by an ow from his end of the phone, “But Chase is going to come pick you up from yours and take you to the airport and he promised he’d make sure you get there ok.”
“Ok thank you, that’s kind,” you replied, not able to disagree - you had no other way to get to the airport as Drew was meant to be giving you a lift.
“I’m sorry again baby,” he said and with that, he was gone and you were left alone in your apartment and feeling a little sad at how it had all played out.
Half an hour later, Chase had arrived at your apartment block, his Bronco pulled up on the street in front. He buzzed your door and headed upstairs when you let him in. You were stood at the door when he got up to your floor and he noticed the redness is your eyes, but as a good friend didn’t say anything, he just jumped in for a hug straight away. You two had become quite close. Chase was friendly with everyone but you and him just clicked as friends and you know you’d be seeing him a lot more too, which of course you loved.
“Ready to go?” he asked, walking into your apartment. He surveyed the room, checking all the plugs were switched off and when you asked him what he was doing, he told you “Drew had asked me to check you turned everything off and you didn’t forget anything.” You rolled your eyes and laughed.
“Shall we then?” he asked, after he did his little inspection, as you nodded and took a moment to look around your empty apartment. Suddenly all those wonderful moments you’d shared here with Drew flashed into your mind and you had to hold in your emotions. You went to grab your luggage, but Chase stopped you, taking it for you and heading out the door with it, you following with your backpack on. He headed downstairs first, giving you a few moments alone as you switched the light off for the final time. The end of an era.
Once downstairs, you saw Chase putting your luggage into the back seat of the Bronco. You thanked him and put your backpack in the back too, before you made the way to the passenger seat, stopped by a little gift bag of stuff on the seat instead.
“What’s this?” you asked, confused.
“Oh that’s from Drew, he asked me to give it to you. It’s a little travel care pack. An eye mask, some moisturiser, snacks and something else I can’t remember,” he said, as you went to take a peek inside, “But don’t open it til you’re on the plane.” You looked a little confused, but nodded, putting it next to your feet on the floor as you climbed into the front of the car.
You sighed, looking out the “window” of the Bronco, and watching the signs for Charleston go by in the other direction. It was when you got on the Arthur Ravenel bridge that tears threatened to come out. You knew your boyfriend was working, but it would have been really nice for him to have been here to see you off.
“I miss you,” you texted him, and soon he replied to tell you he missed you too. Chase chatted with you throughout the journey. He noticed that you seemed so be a little distracted, but he continued to chat about things, anything to keep your mind off your man. He even managed to make you laugh, and you thought he was such a sweetheart for what he’d done to support you.
After a while, he decided to ask you what your plans were going forward, now you were moving back home.
“I think, I’ll just - I don’t know - go back to a normal job I guess, it’s not easy to come by these jobs,” you said, Chase nodding in response, as you carried on, “I can’t really afford to not work. And I certainly can’t afford to move away from my state, and it’s not like Drew and I can find a home anywhere, because you know - it’s expensive and he’s not gonna be there half the time.”
Chase nodded, he only knew too well how hard it was to keep a home, a base. It was why he moved to Charleston. The place had completely given him the life he dreamed of, and who was he to turn his back on that?
“I’d love to live in Charleston, it’s so nice there,” you mused, “But if Drew is in LA, it’s hell of a journey.” 
“There’s always the spare room at mine if you and Drew ever want to visit. Drew’s already started decorating it with things of his.” You laughed, that was such a Drew thing to do. “Won’t be long before there’s a picture of you two up in a photo frame there.”
You laughed, smiling to yourself, you really did love the friendship they shared. And you were glad Drew picked Chase as his best friend. No one else would have handled all this - drama - and the secrets as well as him.
“Right, here we are,” he said, heading towards the car park at the airport rather than the drop off zone.
“Oh you can just drop me off Chase,” you replied, keen that he wasn’t put out by you needing a lift.
“Don’t be silly,” he replied, “I’ll make sure you get in ok. Make sure you check in and everything.” You smiled back over at him; that was sweet of him to do that. He really had become a huge support for you, and if Drew couldn’t take you to the airport, you were glad it was him instead.
“Thank you,” you muttered, jumping out the car when he had parked up and grabbing your little gift bag from Drew and your backpack from the back of the car. You went to take the suitcase out by Chase stopped you.
“I’ve got it,” he said, “Don’t worry.” You offered to take it and again he refused, walking behind you.
“Lead the way,” he told you as you headed into the check in hall, which was buzzing with people. You headed towards the check in desk, watching as all these couples and families bid their farewells, hugging each other. You felt a lump build in your throat; all you wanted was for Drew to be here to say goodbye properly. There’s that old cliche; if you knew it was the last time you were going to see him was this morning, you would have said a better goodbye. You sighed. Too late now.
You looked back to see Chase, stopping to wait for him as he had trailed behind a bit with your case, but as you started to walk again, your head still turned back, all of a sudden you bashed into someone and their cases which were surrounding them.
“Oh my god I’m so sorry,” you said, looking up to meet a very very familiar face.
“Don’t you worry about that darling, fancy bumping into you here,” the voice said. That voice you’d come to know - and love - and there he was stood in front of you.
“What are you - Drew - what are you doing here?” you said, not even able to get your words out. You looked back at Chase, who stood a little away with your case giving you both some space. He gave you that smile to let you know he knew all along exactly how this was going to play out. You silently scolded him, laughing and shaking your head at him.
“Surprise,” Drew said, his arms wrapping around you as he placed his head on top of yours sweetly.
“What are you doing here? I thought you had work?” you said back, looking at him and then at Chase, who couldn’t wipe that cocky smile off his face.
“Coming to surprise you,” he said with a smile, “I didn’t have work.” You playfully slapped him on the arm.
“I thought you said no more lies,” you tutted at him and instantly he laughed, before adding that he “thought this was a good one though”. You held onto him so tight, his arms tight around you and his grip so strong. You took a deep breath, inhaling that scent of his you had come to love. It was so good to be back in his arms again.
Eventually, you managed to pull away, his arms still wrapped around you but looser now so you could look him in the eyes. You suddenly remembered you were in a busy airport and looked around, noting all the bags.
“Wait who’s bags are these?” you said, pointing out how there was one big piece of luggage and a small one next to him. You gave him a confused looks
“Mine,” he said rather proudly, “We’re going on holiday together. I’ve booked us some flights. And then back to see your mum and sister. I want to meet your family.” 
“But -“ you started to say but he pressed his finger softly against your lips, making you smile.
“I’ve already spoken to your mum, it’s sorted. She knows we’ll be with her in a week’s time. She said she can’t wait to meet me, of course.” You laughed at him, shaking your head. He was a funny one.
“Where are we going?” you asked, biting your lip with excitement. You couldn’t wait to find out.
“New York first, then onto Antigua. How does that sound?” You stood there open mouthed. “Two nights in New York and then we head to the Caribbean. I hope you’ve packed your bikini,” he said and it suddenly dawned on you that you didn’t have one.
“Don’t worry, we’ll go holiday shopping in New York baby,” he said in his normal voice before leaning in to whisper to you, “As long as I get a little fashion show when you settle on a couple of swimsuits.” You giggled and nodded, smiling at him. This was all a dream.
If you thought your goodbye was emotional, his and Chase’s were worst. Like a couple of lovesick puppies those two were, at least they were jokingly acting like they were. “I’ll text you as soon as we land,” Drew joked, as Chase bantered back: “You better do, I won’t stop thinking about you until I know you’re safe.”
You laughed and shook your head, giving Chase a hug too before you walked hand in hand with Drew through towards the security gates. He waved goodbye, you turning to wave goodbye too. “Thank you for everything,” you shouted back, giving him a beaming smile with him matching the same back.
“Shall we get some food?” Drew asked you, grinning at you as the two of you waited in the line.
When you were through security, you headed with him to one of the fast food outlets and promptly ordered near enough the whole menu with him. You had a few hours til your flight so you both just sat there, chatting and slowly eating until it was mainly all gone.
You heard your boarding call and stood up, going to clear the remnants of your food away. “Wait one second,” he said, gesturing for you to sit down at the chair nearest to his. You did as he asked, his arm flying around your shoulder as he pulled you in close.
“Did you - bring that bag I gave you?” You nodded, looking around and noticing it by your foot. You picked it up and shook it briefly. “Ok open it.”
You popped it on the table and did as he asked, carefully pulling all the tissue paper out. In the bottom was a little square shaped box. You took it out and examined it for a moment, before opening it. Inside, there was the most beautiful necklace. It was silver, no doubt, and on closer inspection, it had a word written on it. His name - in cursive letters.
“Drew,” you shrieked, throwing your arms around him and pulling him in for a hug. You peppered kisses all over his lips, smiling through them as your focus returned to the necklace he had bought for you.
“Do you like it? Can I help you put it on?” he asked, firing both questions at you before even waiting for an answer to the first one. You nodded, instantly turning away from him and pulling your hair out the way.
He swung the necklace over the front of your neck and carefully blew some of the little bits of wispy hair out of the way. You shivered at the sensation, blushing and giggling as he placed a single kiss on your neck, before securing the necklace around your neck. You turned back to face him, smiling as he adjusted the pendant bit and smiled back at you.
“I think it looks beautiful,” he said, pausing for a moment as he ran his thumb along the delicate chain, “You look beautiful. It’s beautiful.” He grinned at himself, obviously proud he had picked something so nice.
“Thank you, it’s perfect,” you muttered back, leaning in to plant a kiss on his lips. “I love you Drew Starkey.”
“I love you too.”
A/N: So that’s it! Chapter six done and dusted! My plan is to do one more chapter of this - an epilogue about their holiday together - cos I’m not quite ready to give up this couple just yet. Anyway I hope you liked this 💕💕
taglist (pls let me know if you want to be added 🥰)
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roosterbruiser · 8 months
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I just saw the new look of the Rhett x Singlemom!reader and I can’t wait for it!
With it, I have a few questions:
Why the changes? I’m on now way upset about it! Actually, the more context that we have been given as to why it was only Reader and Emmylou (previously Forest) gives it a much more angsty feel and I love it!
And one more, why was it originally called 33rd of August? I’m only asking since there is no 33rd day of August lol
I hope this doesn’t trouble you, have a nice day! ❤️☺️
happy to answer these questions!! they're VERY long so pls feel free to skim if necessary
so long, long ago I started writing a fan fiction for Harry Styles. I literally started writing it when I was like 13 or 14 yrs old. to say it was problematic..........wouldn't even do it justice. I finished it and had it posted on Wattpad for a long time!
but then I wanted to rewrite it. so I did! and then I kept rewriting it like every single year. first it was a modern day story about gang member Harry. and then it was ex gang member Harry. then it was a 70s au bad boy. then it was just a 70s au that was more of a coming of age story! the version I rewrote when I was about 18-19 is not that bad! it's actually still posted on Wattpad 😳
then when I got to college, I wanted to do more with it. so I started rewriting it as a novel. so the novel was about a girl who was groomed by the father of the children she babysat and ended up falling pregnant by the time she was 19. they conceal her pregnancy and then when she has the baby, it's a total scandal bc no one knew and it's the 60s and she's unwed. plus her employer is the only doctor in their small town and rumors go nuts!!
so in that story, I was gonna have it that she gives the baby to the bio father to be raised with him and his wife. then she moves all the way to West Virginia to start her life over at her aunt's house in Charleston. and she meets a handsome, rugged cowboy who helps heal her wounds.
ALL THIS TO SAY....I really like that plot so I tweaked it and made it applicable to Rhett Abbott bc fan fiction is my one true love.
so The 33rd of August is actually a Joan Baez song and that's why it was titled that!
Bluebird Wine is an Emmylou Harris song :-)
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gothdaddyissues · 1 year
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In The 20s
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Welcome to the Church - Available on Ao3
or under the cut (~3300 words)
SUMMARY: Welcome to the Church - the biggest, swankiest speakeasy in town. Terzo has a plan, and he's setting it in motion. But first, he must comfort his girl Evie, and make sure Copia is on his side...
TW: for physical/mental after-effects of physical/sexual violence/abuse
TAGS: Terzo, Copia, Ghoulettes, Original characters, aftermath of violence, implied sexual violence, language, Google Translate Italiano
“Are you sure you know where you’re going?”
“Yes! Yes, I was just here the other night. Trust me!”
The red and black Model T trundled down an unpaved road on the city's outskirts, the driver and his 5 friends packed in tight. The three in the back seat were giggling, passing a small flask of moonshine back and forth between them. Finally, the car turned off the road in front of a large, weatherbeaten church.
“We’re here!” the driver announced.
“This?” the female in the front seat scoffed. “This ain’t no gin joint. It’s a church!”
“Nuh-uh,” the driver said. “You’ll see!”
He drove the car along the side of the building, through a passage partially overgrown with trees, wide enough to only allow a single vehicle through. It led behind the building to a large plot of land used as a car park, well obscured by the foliage. He parked among the dozens of other vehicles already there.
“C’mon, cats and kittens, let’s go!”
The group entered the church from a side entrance, which led them down a hall and directly into the main chapel. “Are you sure about this, John?” one girl whispered, grabbing onto his arm and holding close to him.
“I sure am, Ruthie. Just watch.”
Standing in the chapel in front of the altar was a man in a long, hooded priest’s robe, his face obscured by a black masquerade mask. He turned to them when they entered. “Greetings, my children. How may I guide you this evening?”
“Um, we’re here for confession,” John replied.
The masked man nodded. “Of course. Right this way.” He led them to the confession booth along the side of the chapel, pulling the curtain away to reveal an opening in the back wall and a staircase leading down to the basement.
“Go in peace,” the priest said.
The group hurried past the mysterious ‘priest’ and into the stairwell. The steps were rough-hewn wood planks with a wide, well-worn groove down the center from the sheer amount of foot traffic. The further down they went, the cooler and darker it became as they made their way deep underground. The sounds of laughter, glasses clinking, and music grew louder and louder the closer they got to the bottom. Another man stood at the end of the stairwell, bathed in the warm light emanating from an open doorway to the left. “Welcome to The Church,” he greeted, “The show starts at 1 am. Blessings be upon you.”
Stepping through the opening revealed an enormous speakeasy, easily the biggest and most elaborate in the whole city. It was already teeming with well-dressed patrons, most holding wine, whisky, or cocktail glasses in their hands. Gilded crystal chandeliers hung from a tin ceiling over the large seating area. Along the length of the wall near the entrance was the bar, heavy dark oak, with arch-framed shelves behind it housing a generous array of glassware and liquor bottles, and tended by two distinguished-looking gentlemen in pinstripe waistcoats. There was a wide variety of seating: stools, tables for two, four, and six, and benches and banquettes along the wall across from the bar. The carpeting was plush and the upholstery rich and luxurious. At the far end of the room sat a grand piano on a large stage hung with lights and deep red curtains trimmed in gold fringe. And in front of that, a roomy dance floor, already in use by several couples frolicking and doing the Charleston in time with music coming from a Victrola in the corner. The area on the far opposite side of the stage was a raised dais that held two extravagant private booths, each within carved wood arches, and with heavy gold drapery hanging in front of them to obscure those who sat there from view. The entire establishment was as ostentatious as the notorious gangsters that owned it.
John grabbed Ruthie’s hand. “Let’s get us a drink, sugar.”
The group made their way over to the bar, and as they stood in wait Ruthie noticed one of the private booth curtains flutter open, a man dressed in a shiny black suit and pristine white spats emerging from within. He was hard to ignore - his face painted white, with deep black markings on his eyes, nose, and cheeks, reminiscent of a skull. His black hair was slicked back which enhanced the face paint and his dual-colored eyes, one green and one white… the birthmark of the Emeritus clan.
He sauntered across the room, greeting and shaking hands with the patrons he passed until he caught sight of her staring starry-eyed at him. She tried to look away but it was too late. He looked her up and down with a flirtatious gaze, gave her a nod and a wink, and walked off before her companion noticed.
Chuckling to himself, he made his way across the dancefloor and slipped behind the stage. It would be showtime soon.
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Terzo made his way down the small corridor beyond the cluttered backstage area. It was a short distance to the dressing rooms, the first open room filled with the male members of the club’s band preparing to take the stage, going through their warm-ups, and tuning their instruments. Terzo greeted them as he passed through: “Good evening, fellas.” Across the room were two doors. One was Copia’s dressing room/office, but the other - the ladies’ dressing room - was where he was headed first. He knocked and stepped inside without waiting for an invitation.
He shut the door behind him quickly, leaning his back on it and standing in admiration of what he saw before him. Three lovely women, a blonde, a brunette, and a redhead, in various states of dress. “Buonasera, ladies,” he purred.
The women continued their preparations unbothered, quite immune to Terzo’s flirtatious behavior. The blonde even rolled her eyes at him as she pulled on her stage dress over her silky undergarments. The brunette was threading a feathered headband through her waved hair, while the redhead - dressed in a black pantsuit matching what the men in the band wore - was standing before a large mirror, busy rimming her eyes with a dark black liner.
“She’s here?” he asked.
“Of course,” the blonde said motioning to the other door in the room, “She’s been holed up in there for an hour.”
“I hope she’s okay,” the redhead said, while still concentrating on her makeup application, “She’s been awful quiet.”
“Allow me to check on her then,” Terzo volunteered. He made his way through the room, seductively taking each woman’s hand and kissing the back of it as he passed them. First the blonde: “Lovely Cumulus.” Then the brunette: “Sweet Cirrus.” Then, as she finished her makeup, the redhead: “Fiesty little Sunshine.”
They weren’t falling for it. “Just go cheer up your girl, ya goon,” Sunshine sighed, ushering him away.
Terzo knocked twice, this time waiting until he heard a reply before entering. A soft “Yes?” came from within and he let himself in, shutting the door behind him.
The room was no bigger than a large closet - it was, in fact, a storage closet before they converted it into a singular dressing room for their star songstress. It was big enough for only a chair, a rack filled with fringed, sequined, and sheer stage dresses, and a vanity table placed in front of a large, lighted mirror. It was there she sat, already in costume, black hair in a sleek bob, putting the finishing touches on her stage makeup. The beautiful Evelyn Stewart, or Evie as they called her.
Her back was to him, but he could see the reflection of her face in the mirror. He noticed redness around her eyes, puffiness on her lids that she was futilely trying to hide with creams and powders. She glanced at him in the reflection, just briefly, before returning to her work. There was no joyful gleam in her eye, no rosy cheeks dimpled in happiness as they usually were. There was only sadness there, heavy and dark, rolling off of her as she sat slumped at her table. He hated seeing her like this. He had seen it before, in her and in so many others. He knew the cause of her despair: Papa.
His father, Papa Nihil, the head of their family and the leader of their gang. Almost 100 years old, he was an ancient relic of a time long past. He was old-fashioned, resistant to change, too comfortable in his role as patriarch. He ruled through intimidation and fear, and no one dared to cross him. His two eldest sons, Primo and Secondo, had tried. They challenged his way of thinking - they challenged him - and their only reward was to be shunted out of the hierarchy, pushed down the line of succession due to their insolence. Now Terzo was the heir apparent, and he played along, doing everything his father wished and more to gain his trust… while at the same time taking initiative and making new connections behind his back, laying the groundwork for the future. It was a dangerous game and he was preparing his final play: pushing the old man out for good. His brothers had his back. It would be all for the sake of the family business.
Until then, they all had to take the knee and kiss the ring.
Poor Evie never asked for this. She was never looking to be a mobster’s girl. All she wanted was to sing and entertain. But once Papa got a look at her, there was no going back. Evie was his, whether she liked it or not. He kept her on his arm as a trophy, as a symbol of his power, and there was no way he would give her up willingly. Terzo had seen Papa be cruel to her, knew he would force himself on her for his own pleasure since he was too old to ‘perform’ in any way that would be satisfying for her. Not that her needs mattered one bit to him. She was beautiful, talented, and clever, but essentially, she was Papa’s prisoner. She deserved better. Terzo tried to be the one to give that to her and he felt no guilt in doing so. He wanted her to have all the attention, all the affection, and all the orgasms she desired. Papa’s increasing possessiveness was making that more and more difficult.
“Hello baby girl,” he murmured. He came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, giving a light squeeze before leaning down to kiss the nape of her neck. The kisses continued downward, past the pearl embellishments draped across the back of her dress, until he knelt behind her. Wrapping his arms around her waist and hugging her tight, he rested his head upon her shoulder, making eye contact with her through their mirrored reflections.
She smiled back at him then, a genuine smile. She melted into his touch, leaning her cheek against his. “Hello handsome,” she replied. “What’s with the face paint tonight?”
Terzo scoffed: “Papa wants us to start wearing it again when we’re here. He says it makes us more intimidating, shows everybody who’s boss.” He kissed her cheek softly, belying his menacing appearance. “You okay? Anything I can do for you?”
She slid her hands down to cover his, entwining their fingers. “I’m okay,” she said, a small tremor in her voice. “Better now.”
Terzo studied her face in the mirror. “Did he hurt you again?” he asked, scowling in pre-emptive anger.
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “No,” she said. She wouldn’t look at him again.
He sighed. Her reticence told him she was lying. He laid a string of gentle kisses along her neck. “My sweet girl, you deserve so much more than this. You deserve a man who will worship you like the goddess you are.” His hands slid up from her waist to her breasts, cupping them in his grasp ever so reverently, while his kisses continued. “Mmmm… I’ve missed you,” he hummed in her ear.
“I’ve missed you too,” she whispered, sliding her hand up the side of his face to tangle in his hair.
“C’mere baby.” He spun the stool around until she was facing him, and he wasted no time, capturing her lips in a tender kiss, pulling back momentarily to nuzzle his nose alongside hers. He felt her smile, heard her soft giggle. He kissed her again, his tongue gently slipping past her lips. He pressed himself into her, his passion taking over as the kisses continued, his hands moving to her legs, parting them, pushing the hem of her dress up past the satin garters adorning her thighs. His fingers danced along her bare skin…
Evie abruptly put her hands over his, stopping him in his tracks. She pulled her lips away, reluctantly, pressing her forehead to his instead. “Terzo, no,” she protested, “Please. I don’t have time. I have to finish getting ready.”
“I’m sorry, dolcezza,” he apologized, “I can’t help myself, you are so irresistible. So delicious..” His lips were back on her neck, the other side this time, sucking and nibbling at the sensitive flesh until he felt her tense up. A mewl of pain escaped her lips.
He pulled back, his brow furrowed in concern. He could see the bruises on her neck now, a column of angry fingerprint-shaped marks on her pale skin. His fingers ghosted over them. “Evie,” he gasped, “You said he didn’t hurt you…”
Evie pulled away and spun back around to face the mirror. “It’s fine,” she said firmly, going back to her preparations. “You need to stop worrying about me so much. Fussing over me. Papa’s getting suspicious, he knows something’s up. We gotta be more careful. You’ll probably be in big trouble if he finds out you came back here to see me.”
Terzo stood up, coming around to lean against her vanity table so he could see her eye to eye. “Actually, he’s the one that sent me. He has a message for you.”
She glanced up at him while powdering her face. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“He wants you to sing ‘his’ song for him tonight.”
Evie made an annoyed face. “Again? The band is sick to death of it.”
“But he’s not,” Terzo said, “And what Papa wants, Papa gets. We know that all too well, both of us, si?”
She sighed. “It’s not on the setlist. I’ll have to tell Copia.”
“No, no,” he tutted, “You leave that to me. I have to speak with him anyway.”
“Fine.” He watched as she struggled to cover up the marks on her neck. There were tears welling up in her blue eyes, but she blinked them back, steeling herself with a determined huff of breath. She put up such a brave front, keeping that tough-as-nails exterior of hers from breaking. He was one of the few people who knew just how sweet and vulnerable she was on the inside.
Terzo went to the jewelry box on the table, rummaging for something big enough to cover her wounds. He found a multi-strand pearl choker with a large faux-diamond pendant dangling from the front. “Allow me,” he said, placing it around her throat and moving behind her slightly to fasten it for her.
She examined herself in the mirror, satisfied that the necklace would conceal the bruises. Her eyes met his in the reflection once more. “Thank you, Terzo.”
He turned her around again, taking her hands in his and placing soft kisses on them. “I wish I could stay longer, tesoro. But I will let you finish getting ready. And after the show, I will take you back to my place, hmmm? Pamper you. Candles, a bubble bath, champagne?” He nudged her chin with his fingers, running his thumb along her bottom lip while staring into her eyes.
Evie placed her hand around his wrist, caressing small circles around his pulse point with her finger. “That sounds wonderful.”
“Everything’s gonna be okay, baby, I promise.”
“Be careful, Terzo. You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep,” she warned.
She was right, but he was damn sure going to try and keep that promise to her. Terzo smirked as he pulled away, heading for the door. “Are you calling me a liar, cara?” he teased, trying to at least make her smile on the way out. “How dare you…This is the most honest face you’ve ever sat on and you know it.” He winked and slipped out of the room.
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“20 minutes to showtime! 20 minutes!” the stagehand called.
Terzo knocked on Copia’s dressing room door and opened it enough to poke his head in. “You got a minute?”
Copia was standing in front of a mirror, pulling on his red tailcoat. He took a quick glance at his watch. “I have a couple, but not much more than that. Why?”
Terzo stepped inside and shut the door behind him, giving Copia a glance up and down. “Going with the red suit tonight, eh?”
“They’re still trying to get the blood stains out of the white one,” he retorted, giving Terzo a sideways look. “Thanks to your brother and our little policeman friend.”
“Actually, turns out he was Imperator’s little policeman friend,” Terzo revealed as the flopped down into Copia’s desk chair. “One of our inside guys told us he was on her payroll.”
“She couldn’t come for us with someone better than a rookie? She’s going to have to try harder,” Copia said, adjusting his collar.
“No doubt she will,” Terzo agreed, “Especially after what I found out today.”
Copia turned to his friend: “Don’t keep me in suspense.”
“Capone is coming to town.”
“When?” Copia was wide-eyed. This was big.
“To be determined,” Terzo said, “But it’ll be soon. And I’m going to arrange a meeting with him, make him a deal.”
Copia scoffed. “Your father won’t like that.”
Terzo leaned over the desk. “I don’t care,” he stated, punctuating each word by jabbing his index finger onto the desk. “The game has changed and Papa doesn’t get to play anymore. It’s our time now, Copia. Partnering with Capone will make us stronger than ever. And if we don’t do it, Imperator will! Then we’d really be fucked, right? I’m not taking that chance. Papa doesn’t have to know until the deal is done.”
For a few moments, it was silent except for the faint sound of the girls doing their vocal warmups in the room next door. Copia adjusted his cuffs and smoothed down his lapels, his brow furrowed in worry.
Terzo stood and approached Copia with his arm outstretched. “You’re with me, aren’t you fratellino?” he asked. “I can count on you, si?”
Copia took hold of Terzo’s forearm in a Roman handshake. “Of course, you can,” Copia said, their arms still locked, “I’m always with you, Terzo, you know that.” He put his other hand on Terzo’s shoulder, gripping him tightly. “But I hope you know what you’re doing. We’ve seen what Papa is capable of when he’s angry. There’s been a lot of funerals… I don’t want to have to go to yours, you understand?”
“Have some faith in me, Copia,” Terzo smiled, clapping him on the back affectionately.
There was a knock on the door. “10 minutes ‘til showtime!” the stagehand announced.
The two men separated, Terzo heading for the door. “Oh, speaking of angry Papa, I almost forgot,” he said, turning back to Copia, “He wants to hear his favorite song again tonight so you’d better put it back on the setlist, yeah?”
“What?! You tell me this now?” Copia groaned.
Terzo took his leave, as quickly as he could. “In bocca al lupo!”
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ginnieschoepf · 4 months
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December 10 Sims Community Finds
All Advent Calendars are at the end of the Updates
Updates:
Besen’s Sims 2 Bodyshop - Eyes; Fashion - Child Male, Gentlemen uploaded http://simscave.mustbedestroyed.org/index.php?topic=38588.0
JulieJ’s Sims 2 Simblr Clothing https://julietoon-ts2.tumblr.com/archive
A Nonsensical Simblr Sims 2 Hair https://nonsensical-pixels.tumblr.com/736267445155823616/download-sfs-mf
S2I Downloads & Requests Sims 2 New bedding: sucks you in by technicolorrr https://s2idownloads.blogspot.com/
Nosferatusim Sims 2 Clothing https://nosferatusim.tumblr.com/archive
Isimchi Sims 2 Novel covers https://isimchi.tumblr.com/736282058524082177/download-novel-defaults-posters-mf
PF’s Simblr Sims 2 Wall deco https://pforestsims.tumblr.com/736324225527365632/hip-bunny-graffiti
Platinum Aspiration Sims 2 Hair https://platinumaspiration.tumblr.com/736331588499079168/adorable-hair-for-the-younger-life-stages-i-hope
Tvickiesims Sims 2 Bowl food tweaks https://tvickiesims.tumblr.com/736230778734854144
Stuff For The Sims 2 Eyebrows https://lidiqnatasims2.5quality.eu/
Leto Mills Sims 2 Clothing, clothing fix https://letomills.tumblr.com/archive
Mod the Sims Sims 2 Uni career wants, houses https://modthesims.info/downloads.php?gs=1
Marta’s SimsBook cc Sims 3 Christmas set https://martassimsbookcc.tumblr.com/736210754294923264/title
Angela Ester Sims Sims 3 Cheap single-story family home with The Sims 3 base game http://angelaesterthesims.blogspot.com/
Bionic Zombie Sims 3 Deco https://bioniczombie.tumblr.com/archive
Layla CC Sims 3 Clothing https://laylacc.tumblr.com/736176968550285312/hello
Bluehazard’s Blue-Lens Sims 3 Uploaded all poses https://bluehazardxx77xx.tumblr.com/736318458377256960/last-post
Johziii Sims 3 Sims https://johziii.tumblr.com/736298751454527488/cc-is-included-in-the-package-file-put-in-your
Sims Deo Gloria Sims 3 Bedroom https://simsdeogloria.tumblr.com/736289837150257152/simsdeogloria-4t3-charly-pancakes-smol
Bo Builds Sims 3 Part 1 of the curve project https://bothebuilder.tumblr.com/736278786916679680/download
Olomaya’s Mod Playground Sims 3 Exercise mat https://olomaya.tumblr.com/736244169217114112/lets-get-physical
Nikatyler Sims 3 Sims https://nikatyler.tumblr.com/736354268070674432/gen-6-cousins-pt-1
Wandering Sims Sims 3 Patterns, wall art https://wanderingsimsfinds.tumblr.com/archive
Faerieland Sims 3 Hair https://faerielandsims.tumblr.com/archive
AndiBuilds Sims 4 Condos https://andibuilds-simblr.tumblr.com/736354602126049280/oak-bluffs-40x30-a-condominium-community
Toreno Werty Sims 4 Deco stable https://toreno-werty.tumblr.com/736264906626777088/download
JulieJ’s TS4 Simblr Clothing https://julietoon-ts4.tumblr.com/archive
Sunflower Petals Sims 4 Kinesiology tape https://sunflower-petals.tumblr.com/736246091089149952/kt-tape-here-is-a-simple-set-of-kt-tape-or
Missy’s Musings Sims 4 Updated mods https://missy-hissy.tumblr.com736232291320430592/look-whos-been-busy-this-morning-several-mod
Javi Trulove Sims Sims 4 Shoes https://javitrulovesims.tumblr.com/735696731300413440/javitrulovesims-do-the-charleston-shoes
Historical Fiction Sims Sims 4 Clothing https://historicalfictionsims.tumblr.com/archive
Hex Code Sims Sims 4 Choker https://hexcodesims.tumblr.com/736174988193873920/grunge-revival-kit-choker-edit-more-details-as
Powluna Sims 4 Clothing https://powluna.tumblr.com/736345093186912256/as-requested-there-is-now-a-turtleneck-version
Savannah Sims 4 For Rent bonus content https://xsavannahx987.tumblr.com/736336880953638912/for-rent-bonus-content
Vampire Simmer Sims 4 Hair https://xvampiresimmerx.tumblr.com/archive
Mod the Sims Sims 4 House, well as outdoor sink http://www.modthesims.info/browse.php?gs=4&f=38&showType=1
Advent Calendars:
Advent Calendar list Sims 1, 2, 3, 4 http://simscave.mustbedestroyed.org/index.php?topic=38583.msg322242
Goat Sims 2 Doing Goatmas https://goatskickin.tumblr.com/archive
FakeBlood Sims 2 Advent Calendar https://fakebloood.tumblr.com/archive
Mimi Sims 2 Advent Calendar https://rascalcurious.tumblr.com/archive
Sims & Stuff Sims 2 Advent Calendar https://sanneke94.tumblr.com/archive
Around the Sims Sims 3 A new object every day from the 1st to the 24th of December! All objects available 12/25. https://aroundthesims3.com/
Ameriko’s Intuitive Mind Sims 3 Advent Calendar https://ameriko-steelie.tumblr.com/archive
Blacky’s Sims 3 Advent Calendar https://www.simszoo.de/blog/entry/2519-1-dezember/
Simlicious Sims 3 Advent Calendar https://simlicious.tumblr.com/archive
Studio-Papillon Sims 3 Advent Calendar https://studio-papillon.tumblr.com/735498731365007360/hey-guys-the-most-beautiful-time-of-the-year-is
Around the Sims Sims 4 A new object every day from the 1st to the 24th of December! All objects available 12/25. https://sims4.aroundthesims3.com/
Blacky’s Sims 4 Advent Calendar https://www.simszoo.de/blog/entry/2519-1-dezember/
The Royal Thornolia Chronicles Sims 4 Advent Calendar https://theroyalthornoliachronicles.tumblr.com/archive
Verdantis Sims 4 Advent Calendar https://satureja13.tumblr.com/archive
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scotianostra · 1 year
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Happy 75th Birthday Scottish folk singer and number one hit wonder  Mary Sandeman aka Aneka.
Born in Edinburgh in 1947 Mary rose to become  respected traditional vocalist, she sang with the Scottish Fiddle Orchestra, and taught herself to sing in Gaelic. 
Mary Sandeman was asked to provide vocals to a pop project by producer Neil Ross early 1981. Not really wanting to do this in her own name, she chose the pseudonym Aneka for her debut single "Japanese Boy" on Hansa, released in May. The synth pop song featured geisha-like vocals, and when the single suddenly shot up the European charts, eventually peaking at #1 in the UK and eight more countries in August, Mary Sandeman was soon in demand on music shows in which she also dressed like a geisha in kimono. The B side of the single was Rabbie Burn’s Ae Fond Kiss.
The album Japanese Boy, released in the UK simply as Aneka, was released in October 1981 along the new single Little Lady. Although a Top 10 single in Germany, it could only climb to 50 in the UK in November.
Going away from the geisha look, she appeared in a Charleston-suit for her third single, Ooh Shooby Doo Doo Lang, a tongue'n cheek song, telling the story of a backing singer, even with the ironic reference: And I'm sure you must remember / The time when I sang ... ("Japanese Boy"). Again, Germany was more supportive peaking at 18 and 8 in Austria,  unfortunately at home  the single failed to chart. A fourth single release by the end of 1982, "I Was Free" also from the album, went unnoticed.
She switched to Ariola Records in 1983, releasing a new song Heart to Beat in March without success. She was now stigmatized as a one-hit wonder. A final attempt was made with the Scottish traditional Rose, Rose I Love You, released to minimal attention in early 1984, and that was to be the final Aneka recording before Mary Sandeman decided to return as a folk singer.
From what I can glean Mary married a doctor and settled down in Dunblane for a time and later found work as a tour guide just down the road in Stirling, I listened to her speak on Youtube a few years back where she talked of looking out to Loch Tay from her house, so maybe in Kenmore or one of the hamlets up that way. 
I’ve listened to some of her songs and I really like the sound of this on called  Alister McColl, which  has a more rock feel to it, and I guess she is singing in Gaelic, it sounds very much like it took inspiration from the old Waulking songs, and wouldn’t be out of place on a Capercaillie album.
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reasoningdaily · 7 months
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Listen to this article here
A video captures an incident of Tennessee House Speaker Cameron Sexton, a member of the Republican party from Crossville, appearing to engage in a physical altercation with State Representative Justin Pearson, a Democrat from Memphis. The incident occurred on Tuesday, shortly after the conclusion of a special legislative session.
State Rep. Justin Pearson and his esteemed colleague Rep. Justin Jones can be seen at the bottom of the House Speaker’s dais with signs advocating for their constituents against gun violence.
In the video you can clearly see Speaker Sexton shoving his right shoulder into Rep. Person’s chest.
The incident escalated when Sexton turned toward Pearson, pointing at Pearson and his security detail surrounding the speaker.
Before the incident unfolded Representative Justin Jones (D-Nashville) rallied for a vote of no confidence, targeting the speaker’s position.
However, as the speaker promptly adjourned proceedings, precluding the intended vote, tumult unfurled both on the assembly floor and in the gallery, punctuated by discernible voices clamoring to “vote him out”, which can be heard in the video.
State Rep. Justin Jone’s Vote of No Confidence Filing
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In the video, the House Speaker can visibly be seen aggressively shoving his right shoulder into Rep. Pearson, with plenty of room to walk past the Black Representative.
“White supremacist speaker Cameron Sexton violently shoved me today while I held my ‘Protect Kids, Not Guns!’ I’m infuriated by his actions but more infuriated by the inaction of the Tennessee House GOP to pass a single bill to prevent gun violence,” the State Rep. said. He then adds, “This is how democracy dies. We must rise.”
White Political Violence Weakens the Democratic Process
White political violence in America holds significance due to its historical context, societal implications, and impact on democracy and social cohesion. Several key factors contribute to the significance of this issue:
Historical Context: White political violence in America has roots in a long history of racial discrimination, systemic racism, and white supremacy. From the Ku Klux Klan’s terrorizing activities during the Reconstruction era to more recent instances of racially motivated violence, such as the Charleston church shooting, these acts are part of a historical continuum that reflects deep-seated racial tensions.
Symbol of Inequality: White political violence often targets marginalized communities, perpetuating a sense of fear and inequality. Such violence reinforces the notion that certain groups hold power and control over others, exacerbating existing divisions and disparities. This can lead to a lack of trust in institutions and a feeling of disenfranchisement among minority populations.
Threat to Democracy: Political violence, regardless of its source, poses a threat to the democratic principles that underpin American society. When violence becomes a means of political expression, it undermines the foundations of civil discourse, compromise, and peaceful resolution of differences. It can deter individuals from engaging in the political process due to safety concerns.
Media and Perception: Acts of White political violence often garner extensive media coverage, which can influence public perception and reinforce stereotypes. Media coverage shapes how people perceive these incidents and can contribute to the stigmatization of specific groups or communities, further deepening societal divisions.
National Security Concerns: Acts of political violence can have broader national security implications. When violence is politically motivated and driven by extremist ideologies, it can raise concerns about domestic terrorism and the potential for broader radicalization. Law enforcement agencies and policymakers must address these concerns to maintain public safety.
Impact on Social Cohesion: A society fractured by political violence struggles to maintain social cohesion. Trust in institutions, fellow citizens, and the government can erode, making it challenging to foster a sense of national unity. Social fragmentation can hinder progress on important issues and impede effective governance.
International Perspective: White political violence can influence how the United States is perceived on the global stage. It raises questions about the country’s commitment to human rights, equality, and democratic values. Such incidents can be exploited by geopolitical rivals to criticize American governance and sow discord.
Calls for Change: Incidents of white political violence often trigger discussions about the need for policy changes, law enforcement reforms, and improved social cohesion. These events can serve as catalysts for broader conversations about systemic racism, gun control, and hate crime legislation.
In conclusion, White political violence, such as a simple but aggressive shove from Tennessee State House Speaker Cameron Sexton against State Representative Justice Pearson, the recent bomb threats to Tulsa, Oklahoma schools for making available books that Conservatives are banning, and the January 6th Insurrection in America is significant because it reflects historical injustices, threatens democracy, exacerbates social divisions, and raises broader societal and security concerns.
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If you've ever wanted a castle-like house, I found one that's a real bargain. The original structure was built in 1880 in Charleston, West Virginia. It has 4bds, 3ba, and lots of levels, kind of a DIY castle. But, it's only $289,900. How often do you find a castle house for under $300K? Let's take a look and see if has potential.
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So, let's see what we have here. There're train tracks right next to it, but that doesn't bother me, I grew up next to train tracks, too. It does have stone, turrets and towers, but it also has some modern construction added with vinyl siding.
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In this newer addition to the home, they made a very spacious living room. Disappointed that they didn't include a fireplace, but they did put up a stone feature wall. Could make a nice mini Great Hall.
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Off to the left of the living room is an elevator, so you can travel to each floor of your castle in style.
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Also in the newer addition is a dining room. There's no wainscoting, it's just paint and I can't tell if there's chair rail molding around it, but there's a stone feature in the corner. That's tile-look vinyl flooring. You could always do wainscoting or wallpaper. Get a nice chandelier.
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Not a kitchen befitting a castle. Although it does have that little railing on top of the uppers. That's cute. Needs at least some decor.
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I looks like they not only added a new addition, but updated the rest of the house, too.
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Here's a narrow shower room.
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Looks like this room is used as an office, b/c it's got that weird cabinet on the wall.
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What's with all the old TVs all over the house. (Don't think you're leaving those here.)
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This must be the main bd. b/c it has an en-suite bath.
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Not bad. That tub looks high, it must be a soaker tub.
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Very nice- it has a bidet.
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See, this is a room in the old section of the house. Very dated.
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This is an older bath. The laminate panels on the walls date back to about the 60s.
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Now, above the garage, there's a large patio. I wonder if this old rug is rotting the roof.
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The house is set on a hill, so from the front porch and yard, there's a view of the city.
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On the roof above one of the newer additions, there's a wood deck.
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From this deck there's a view of the Kanawha River.
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Looks like a nice mountainous area, yet close to a main highway. I don't see any railroad crossing safety to get to the highway.
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averymorrisx · 8 months
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'Save me if I become my demons'
Basic info:
Name: Avery Morris
Age: 33
Astrological sign: Aries sun, Gemini moon, Taurus rising
Current occupation: Graveyard Overseer on Night Shift 1
Pets: Black lab mix named Beretta
Education level: High school diploma
Previous occupation: Mechanic
Sexuality: bisexual/biromantic
Positive: loyal, hardworking, compassionate
Negative: closed-off, tactless, jaded
Biography:
Jesse Morris had always wanted a son and didn’t see any reason why three daughters should hold him back from it. He was a military man and ruled his home with a strict set of rules. Charlotte died from complications of postpartum preeclampsia three weeks after Avery was born. The devastating loss prevented him from ever remarrying and he threw himself into raising his three daughters: Ava, Aurora, and Avery. Though the house was often somewhat messy and Jesse didn’t have a feminine bone in his body, he did his best to raise three girls on his own. 
Being raised by a single father made all three girls hyper-independent. They were taught how to shoot any kind of weapon Jesse could teach them, including a crossbow and guns, should they ever need to defend themselves. He also taught them how to live off the land and fix things around the house instead of paying to have someone do it for them. While some may have rolled their eyes and say he taught them so he didn’t have to fix things himself, it was all done out of love.
Once Ava and Aurora turned eighteen, they left their small town of Blowing Rock, NC and never looked back. Avery stayed behind and if she was honest, she much preferred the small town life. Most people in her life growing up had left and it suited her fine. Some would call it a sense of comfort and a general fear of leaving home. 
The news of the outbreak was a horrible, sobering reality that snapped Avery out of her admittedly romanticized small town bubble. It was, quite literally, the end of the world as they knew it, REM lyrics need not apply. Jobs shifted, life was never going to be the same. Blowing Rock became overrun with infected, even despite Jesse’s paranoia and hyperawareness. While some may consider D-Day the worst day of their lives, the worst day of Avery’s life came when she had to pull the trigger on her father after he became infected. She was forced to leave behind everything she had ever known with little more than the supplies that fit in her backpack and her dog, Beretta. 
Avery had found Redwood by sheer accident. Charleston had been the destination in mind when she had joined a caravan, but much like the Oregon Trail, not many survived. The end of the world brought out the worst in people, whether it was pure greed, mob mentality, or infection. Avery barely made it to Redwood after three days on her own and being hopelessly lost. 
Connection ideas:
fellow graveyard workers
people she used to travel with
sisters: they grew up very close (placeholder names are Ava and Aurora) but they ultimately left their small town for college and never really came back except to visit Avery and Jesse
high school sweetheart: the person she would have nearly married (she'd be the girl from the song "Everywhere" by Tim McGraw or from "Georgia Rain" by Trisha Yearwood) (m/f/nb)
fwb: for the sake of human contact. they don't need much from the other (m/f/nb)
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inhighcotton · 1 year
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house on almost 100 acres for $350k
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