#much been like ‘what if the church wasn’t so bad : )’ like Travis had to /push/ for the flashback trauma scene w Guidance to be something

[ziracona]

Iirc Griffin did something similar in Amnesty, when Aubrey succeeded on a roll that should've saved another character's life, but it didn't work and I don't think they ever explained why

Yeah!! And in Amnesty, Ned used a point of LUCK. To get a 12. That in MOTW is a guaranteed success. You do not take harm in Protect Someone if you use luck. Also, a fucking shotgun does not DO 7 points of harm anyway. It’s 3. And he fucking KILLED him. Never forgiving Griffin for that one >.>

#that’s not just cheap it’s /explicitly/ against the rules #I don’t ever like if a DM is giving ‘me vs you’ vibes to the players in any form but cheating and lying is the worst #ask #anonymous #like dgmw I love Griffin and most of the time quite enjoy his DMing but several times he has now made me /boiling/ mad #not super happy about the way he has handled Devo’s religious trauma either. like Travis is great #incredible character. he’s got some huge flaws but you also get why Devo is how he is and sometimes he’s super right. but Griffin has too #much been like ‘what if the church wasn’t so bad : )’ like Travis had to /push/ for the flashback trauma scene w Guidance to be something #upsetting and abusive. like let him have a history #taz amnesty spoilers #also not a fan of his new ‘no backstories’ thing #like yeah it can get too much or awkward but they can also be great??? you don’t want to live in them but you want them to give you a rich #basis for where the charcater in-story starts. ??? it causes no issues if you do that? #and it’s fun to occasionally have them be relevant even just for a goofy one off. I had a player be a changeling who had helped a coup in #another country and her co-revolutionary she was with and close to turned on her for racial reasons bc she was a changeling when he found ou #out and tried to kill her and they have a mutual ‘if I ever see you again’ and the experience dramatically influenced how she interacted w #other characters in the campaign bc baggage. but she never even /brought it up/ to a Pc or npc. it’s just rich character to work with #you gotta trust players and yourself a little not let having details overwhelm a story it’s not hard #and if it starts to happen it ain’t hard to correct

[love-and-monsters]

Talsim the Fae: Wedding Party

This is a continuation of this piece, involving you and your Fae boyfriend attending a wedding.

M Fae X F human, 4,565 words.

Content warnings: Mentions of childhood bullying.

“I hate family events,” Talsim muttered. “They’re always awfully boring.” He gave you a pouting look. “Can’t we just skip it?”

“No,” you said. “I already bought the dress. And the wedding gift.”

“I could take you out. And we could just keep the gift,” Talsim said.

“No,” you repeated. “We’re going.” Talsim huffed, flopping onto the bed. You turned back to the mirror, lifting your makeup brush.

Almost as soon as you put the brush against your skin, Talsim hopped off the bed. “Give me that,” he said, taking it from you.

“Hey!” you protested. He lifted it out of your reach as you tried to grab it back. “What are you doing?”

“You clearly have no idea what you’re doing,” he said, waggling the brush in the direction of your face. “Sit back down. I’ll handle it.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong. You sank down onto the bed and Talsim bent down, resting his fingers on your chin. “Close your eyes,” he said. You did so and felt the brush tickle gently over your lids.

“I have kind of a favor to ask you,” you said as he started to apply eyeliner.

He snorted. “I’m already doing you a favor. You owe me one.”

“I think you’re going to like this one a little more,” you said, cracking open an eye. He looked at you hesitantly.

You licked your lips. “Uh. So, I told you this is my cousin’s wedding.”

“Mmhm,” he said. A brush fluttered over your eyelids again.

“I didn’t really go into my relationships with this cousin, though,” you said.

“Turn your head.” Talsim tilted your chin to the right. “No, you didn’t.”

“We saw each other a lot at kids. My family lived closer to hers, so we kind of hung out a lot.” Talsim waited while you hesitated. “She wasn’t all that nice to me.”

Talsim took a step back, examining your face. “Then why are we going?”

“Because she’s my family and everyone will be pissed at me if I don’t,” you said. Talsim shrugged.

“That doesn’t seem bad. You’ll get invited out less.” You cracked open your eyes to glare at him. “Fine. Fine. Keep telling your story.”

“There’s not a lot more to tell. She just wasn’t nice to me as a kid. I wasn’t the most social or attractive kid, I guess, and she kind of teased me a lot. Still isn’t that nice to me, actually. Most of the time she just told that no one was going to love me.” It took some effort to keep your voice steady.

“Well, she was wrong,” Talsim said. His tone was light but his expression was unfriendly.

“I know she’s wrong now, but every time I showed up around her when I was a teenager, she always made some snide comment about how I didn’t have a boyfriend. So, uh. I kind of want to show you off.”

Talsim’s brows lifted and a smile crossed his face. “Oh, well now I am intrigued.” He sat on the bed next to you. “Go on.”

“Well, um.” You could feel your face warming. “I guess, just… you’re, like, a catch, you know?”

His smile widened further. “I am,” he agreed.

“So, I was just thinking that maybe if you came with me, you could kind of… show off that you like me? And that we’re together?”

His smile was wide enough that it seemed almost like it would split his face. “I don’t think that will be awfully hard,” he said. “I act like I like you all the time.”

“Well, you can kind of show off yourself too. I kind of want people to be a little jealous of us.”

Talsim ducked in and kissed your lips. One of his hands came up and tangled in your hair, pressing you firmly against his mouth. His lips parted, pushing your mouth open as well. Then he pulled back.

“Like that?” he asked, eyes gleaming. You nodded, a bit breathless.

“That will work,” you said. “Just warn me next time.”

“It’s more fun when you’re not expecting it,” Talsim protested. You rolled your eyes and looked at yourself in the mirror. Talsim was quite skilled at makeup, though it was rather subtle. He’d focused a lot on small exaggerations to your facial features instead of trying to smooth out flaws. It made your eyes look a little bigger, made your cheekbones a little stronger, and made you look distinctive, but still striking.

“You like it?” Talsim asked, hands resting on your shoulders. He’d gotten off the bed and was leaning over you.

“It’s different than I was expecting,” you said. When you tilted your head in the light, there was a slight shimmer along your face, following some lines you couldn’t see.

Talsim caught your chin again, lifting your face to examine his work again. “I was trying to make you look more like yourself,” he said. “Highlight the common features between your lives. If I had more time, I could probably do a better job, but it’s quite good the way it is.”

You tilted your head back and forth, wishing you could see whatever it was he saw. You’d seen pictures of your previous lives that Talsim had kept, but, aside from a general sense of familiarity you got from looking at them, you couldn’t say they looked like you. Talsim had kept pointing out similarities and gotten frustrated when you had insisted you couldn’t see them.

“We should probably get going,” you said, gathering your bag and pulling your mussed hair back into order. “It’s a bit of a drive.”

Talsim followed you out to your car and settled in the passenger’s seat. “I could drive,” he offered when you sat down in the driver’s seat.

“No. How do you even know how to drive?”

“I’m immortal, remember?” he said. “I learned how to drive the very first cars humans invented.”

“Yeah, and you haven’t driven in twenty years. That doesn’t exactly scream ‘skilled driver’.”

“Oh, I’m sure cars haven’t changed that much,” Talsim shrugged. “The brake’s still the long vertical pedal on the right…”

“That’s that gas,” you said, uncertain whether he was fucking with you or not.

He grinned. “Oops. I’m sure I would have figured it out.”

 “I’m driving and that’s final,” you said, turning your keys in the ignition.

Talsim flopped back in his seat and heaved a great sigh. “Oh, ye of little faith.”

You rolled your eyes in his direction and started along the path your GPS had laid out for you. At least your cousin had decided to hold the wedding fairly close to your home. It was only about an hour away, which, all things considered, wasn’t bad at all.

Talsim shifted in his seat, eyes closed. “I can tell you’re stressed.”

“I’m fine.” You shifted your grip so you were no longer clinging to the steering wheel hard enough to turn your knuckles white.

“Relax. It’ll be fine,” Talsim said. “Can’t be worse than the life your family threw you onto the streets.”

Talsim really tried, but you wished he knew when to keep his mouth shut.

He slept for most of the car ride, giving you plenty of time to focus on exactly how nervous you were. By the time you pulled the car to a stop outside the church, you were pretty sure you were going to throw up.

Talsim stirred. “Mm. Are we there already?”

“Yep. Get up.” He blinked at your terse tone, but obediently got out of the car, braid swinging behind him. You glanced at it, worry swarming over you. “Could you put your hair up?”

He frowned. “It is up.”

“Like, in a bun?” you insisted. He rolled his eyes, but with a flourish, his hair snaked up and secured itself in a neat bun on the back of his head.

“Better?” he asked. “Or would you like me to give myself an impromptu haircut?”

“No, no. It’s fine.” You fidgeted with your dress. “I guess we should head inside.”

“Yes,” Talsim agreed, and started for the door. You hurried after him.

The inside of the church was covered in white and pale blue flowers that curled over the walls and pews. They nicely contrasted the stone-gray bricks of the church. Talsim eyed some of the candlesticks irritably.

“Ugh. Silver.” He wrinkled his nose.

“What’s wrong with silver?” you asked.

“Fae and silver don’t mix.”

“I thought that was iron.”

“If it was, that would be very unfortunate, in this day and age. But no. It’s silver. The purer it is, the worse it is.”

“Do I need to get it away from you?” you asked.

“As long as it doesn’t touch me, I’ll be fine,” he said.

“Honey!” You turned just in time to get a hug from your mom. Your dad stood a bit behind her, looking at Talsim uncertainly.

“Is he with you?” he asked.

“Yeah.” You untangled yourself from your mom and linked your arm with Talsim’s. “This is my boyfriend, Travis.” His real name as a little too conspicuous to you and, after some convincing, he had agreed to use a fake one.

“Oh,” your mom said, glancing between you two. “I’m surprised I haven’t met him before.”

Talsim extended a hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

After a moment, your mom gripped his hand and gave a brief shake. Your father followed suit.

“Um, we just started dating, but it was going really well, so I thought I’d bring him,” you said hurriedly. “He’s really great.”

Talsim swelled with pride. “You’re quite wonderful yourself, sweetness.”

“Well, I’m glad you found someone,” your mom said. “You’ve been single for too long.”

You could practically feel Talsim’s curious gaze lock onto you. “We should go find our seats, hon,” your dad said, taking hold of your mom’s shoulder. “See you later, sweetheart.”

Your parents headed away into the crowd and Talsim grabbed your hand. “Single for a while, hm?”

“I haven’t had a relationship since I was twelve, okay?” you said, shrinking back a little in shame. “And that was a pretty loose relationship anyway. We weren’t much more than friends.” You glanced up at Talsim, who was staring back curiously. “Was I like that in previous lives?”

“Depended on the life and society. Sometimes you’d had several, sometimes not any. Last life you had three before me, I think.” Talsim put a hand over your shoulder. “None of them hold a candle to me, of course, so it rarely mattered.”

You started to head to your seats Talsim glancing around as you did. He kept a hold on your hand, fingers twining through yours. It was reassuring.

The ceremony began and you made a valiant effort to pay attention, but it was long and it was hard to not allow your mind to wander. Talsim was bored too. You had to keep removing his wandering hands.

“I’m bored,” he hissed, twisting a hand around your waist.

“Not now!” you whispered back. “Stop.”

He stopped putting his hands in the more sensitive areas, but he still trailed a fingertip around the junction between your neck and shoulder. You shivered under his touch. He grinned.

Despite being long and fairly boring, the ceremony wasn’t overly unpleasant. You clapped and filed out of the church with the newly married couple. “At least that’s over,” Talsim muttered to you.

“The reception’s the hard part,” you replied.

“Nonsense. Reception’s just a party. They’re fun! I once broke into a royal wedding reception. That was a good time.”

“Was I there?”

“No. Before I met you.” He squeezed your hand. “But this will be fun!”

“Easy for you to say. Your family isn’t here.”

Talsim hung an arm over your shoulders. “No. But I’m here. So, you’re going to have a good time.”

“Mm.” You muttered skeptically. He squeezed you close to him as you headed back to your car.

It took only a short time to get to the building hosting the reception. Everything was decorated in tiny lights and big white bows were attached to the walls and arches. It was pretty, you had to admit, but the throng of people was nerve-wracking. Talsim kept an arm over your shoulders, perfectly at ease. A few people glanced at him and he returned their stare with a winning smile.

“You said you wanted me to show off,” he said as you entered the reception hall. There was an enormous dance floor in the middle with tables clustered around the edges. “Any particular way?”

“No. Just look like you’re having a good time with me-” The words were barely out of your mouth when Talsim seized you and pulled you into a dip. His mouth pressed against yours in a deep kiss before he swooped back up, pulling you with him. Your face burned. “Not like that!”

“Oh,” Talsim said, looking extremely unapologetic. “Well, you weren’t very specific. Can I try again?”

“No. Let’s just go sit down.” You could see people staring at you open mouthed. “I- don’t show off that much, just make it look like you’re enjoying your time with me.”

“I was enjoying my time a moment ago,” he said, but he didn’t try to kiss you again. You located your seats, which were decorated with folded paper name cards. You parents were at the same table along with a couple of your aunts. You were far from the front, which wasn’t surprising. Most of your other cousins were in the bridal party, gathered up at the head table.

“We should probably go congratulate the bride and groom,” you said, glancing at the already-forming line of people around them.

“Why?” Talsim asked, leaning close enough that his breath tickled deliciously against your ear. “You don’t want to.”

“I still have to,” you said. Talsim groaned, but took hold of your hand and followed you up to the front of the room.

Your cousin smiled at you when you approached. Talsim squeezed you against him, responding to her smile with one of his own. He pulled you more firmly against his side. “So nice to see you,” your cousin said, moving in for a one-armed hug. You hugged her back awkwardly. Talsim barely loosened his grip on you.

“And it’s nice to mee you,” she said once you left the hug. Her eyes flicked up and down as she took in Talsim. “I haven’t met you before.”

“No, we haven’t met,” Talsim agreed, holding out a hand. “We haven’t been dating for long,” he said, gesturing to you. “It’s been a lovely wedding. I’m glad I was invited.”

“Thank you,” she said, her eyes darting between the two of you. She looked slightly surprised by your relationship, and even a little impressed. With a quick glance around, you saw that the rest of the wedding party was giving you glances and whispering amongst themselves. A spark of pride flickered through your chest.

“It was nice to see you again,” you said. “And congratulations.”

You walked off with Talsim, a smile growing on your face. Talsim squeezed your shoulder. “That went well, didn’t it?” he asked, ducking his head close to yours.

“I think so,” you said. “Pretty well.”

Gradually, you relaxed. Dinner was a pleasant affair and Talsim seemed to be bathing in the attention he attracted just by being himself. You thought he perhaps applied a small charm spell over himself, but it was also possible he hadn’t. He was pretty magnetic on his own.

After dinner, you excused yourself to the bathroom. It was enormous, with better acoustics than you thought a bathroom should have. No sooner had you stepped into a stall and clicked the door shut than you heard the front door swing open and the swish-click of high heels under dresses.

“I swear, everyone is getting married.” You recognized the voice. One of the bridesmaids. “This is like. The third wedding I’ve been to this year.”

“Catch that bouquet and maybe you’ll be next,” another bridesmaid replied.

“Yeah, right. Haven’t been on a date in ages.” There was the sound of a faucet running and a muffled curse. “Can I borrow your lipstick?”

“Sure.” Someone unzipped a purse. “It’s not like you’re related to anyone here. You could try to hook up.”

“Eh. Maybe. There’ve been a few cute guys.” She popped her lips. “You see one of those guys? Tall, long hair, maybe Indian? Legs for days?” Your heart stuttered a little.

“He was pretty good. Think he was dating that girl he was with, though.”

You could hear the smile in her voice as the other girl responded. “I dunno. I asked Sherry, she’s that girl’s cousin, and she says she’s never seen him around before. Never even heard of him.” She dropped her voice to a stage whisper. “She thinks her cousin hired an escort.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Oh. Fuck. Shit.

“You think he’s an escort?” The other bridesmaid sounded skeptical, which helped you cling to the remaining shreds of your dignity.

“I don’t know. I’m just saying what Sherry said. But I mean. Maybe. I’d pay to go on dates with him is all I’m saying.” The bridesmaids laughed together. The door opened and swung shut and the bathroom was abruptly silent.

Embarrassment and shame flooded you in hot, stinging waves. God fucking dammit. Of course. You show up with a guy who’s obviously out of your league and no one’s ever met before and of course people are going to think it’s strange. Of course. Idiot.

You took a few minutes to control yourself before exiting the bathroom and heading back toward Talsim. He was lounging back in his seat, staring languidly around the room.

“Took you a while,” he said, glancing at you as you sat down. “Want to dance?”

You swallowed. “Not right now.”

Talsim sat up, peering at you in the dim lighting. “What happened? Are you all right?”

You let out a snorting laugh that was somewhat muddied by the fact you were on the edge of tears. Talsim scooted closer to you. “What’s wrong?”

“You were right,” you muttered. “We shouldn’t have come.”

“I knew that already,” Talsim said. “Why do you think that?”

You sniffed. “I overheard some people talking in the bathroom. They think I hired you as an escort.”

“They do?” Talsim’s eyebrows shot up and he glanced around. “Really?” He pressed his lips together like he was trying not to laugh. “I am very attractive, I suppose. Why’s that upsetting you?”

You snorted. “People think I’m so desperate for a date that I hired you to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

“They’re in for a bit of shock when I don’t go away,” he said, taking a sip of wine. “They’ll figure it out eventually. Give it a few months.”

“It’s not really the escort thing. I was being stupid. I brought you here because I thought maybe people would be impressed, think I was cool or worthy or something. But now everyone thinks I’m just desperate for attention.”

“This is going to be insensitive,” Talsim warned, “but aren’t you?”

You fixed him with a glare. He wasn’t fazed. “You did bring me here to show me off,” he said. “Not that I mind, but they aren’t entirely wrong.”

“That wasn’t the only reason,” you mumbled, but you could feel your face warming with shame.

Talsim drained the rest of his wine. “It was a big reason, though.” You wilted a little more, scrubbing at your face. “Well, don’t cry over it. You’ll ruin your makeup.” He lifted your head and dabbed under your eyes with a napkin. “Why do you give a shit what they think?”

“I- they’re my family,” you said. Talsim rolled his eyes in a great, exaggerated circle.

“Again: why do you give a shit? Just because you’re related to them doesn’t make them important. From everything you’ve told me, most of these people are assholes.” Talsim dropped the napkin back on the table. “I like you. You have friends who like you. Why do you need your jackass cousin who bullied you as a child to be impressed by you?”

“I just… wanted her to feel stupid for making fun of me, I guess,” you said.

“I can get behind that,” Talsim decided. “We can invite her to our wedding, then. Show off there.”

You had been moving to take a sip of wine, but you choked and spit it back into your glass. Talsim patted your back as you coughed. “All right, sweetness?”

“Married?” you repeated through gasping breaths.

“I assumed we were going to get married,” Talsim said. “Usually we get married. Do you not want to?”

“No, I want to,” you said. “I just assumed you wouldn’t want to. I mean, I figured it was kind of stupid for an immortal to get married? Like it’s a stupid human thing?”

“I like parties,” Talsim said. “Parties about us are even better. And I like calling you my wife and I like it when you call me your husband. I like being married to you.”

“Oh.” You felt warm all over, but it was a pleasant warmth this time. Talsim scooted his chair back and stood, offering you’re a hand.

“Let’s dance,” he said. “If we’re here already, we might as well try to have a good time.”

You took his hand and let him lead you out onto the dance floor. Your coordination was limited, but Talsim was a good dancer and able to support you. He pulled you against him, swaying to the beat of the music and guiding you through the steps.

When you exited the dance floor, you were sweaty and gasping, but laughing. Talsim pressed a kiss to your forehead, grinning wildly. “Your makeup’s smeary,” he said, smudging at it with his thumb. Naturally, his makeup had remained magically perfect.

“You keep ruining it with your lips,” you said. He laughed and kissed you again, this time landing successfully on your mouth. You giggled into it and felt the warm vibration of his returning chuckle.

“We should get out of here,” he said, shifting his position to nudge both of you into a darker corner. “It’s a hotel… we could get a room…” He punctuated his statements with kisses, each one lingering as his teeth teased over your skin.

“It’s expensive,” you said. Talsim had successfully maneuvered you into a secluded corner and his kisses dragged down your mouth and toward your neck.

“I’m sure I could find a nice room that’s empty and convince people to stay away for the night.” He was whispering, ghosting his mouth against your ear. His teeth pulled delicately on your earlobe.

“If your horny ass can wait a little while, we can say goodbye and drive home,” you said. Talsim sighed and pouted, but, with a final, lingering kiss, leaned back.

“Fine. I can wait.” You disentangled himself from him and sought out your parents and the bride before making your way back.

Talsim was in conversation with one of the bridesmaids. As you drew closer, you recognized her voice; it was one of the ones you’d heard discussing you in the bathroom.

Your face burned and you stopped in your tracks, trying to pluck up the courage to move closer. As if sensing your presence, Talsim turned around. “There you are, sweetness. Are we ready to go?”

“Yes,” you said, and no sooner had the word left your mouth than Talsim had swooped upon you to lock lips. You hadn’t been expecting it, but he was clearly enthusiastic.

When he broke away, you were gasping. Talsim looked very self-satisfied. “Mm. Lovely.” He put an arm over your shoulders and grinned at the bridesmaid. “I think I’m perfectly happy where I am.” He waved, then started to walk away, tugging you with him.

“What was that about?” you hissed.

“She made an indication that I would have more fun with her,” he said, “so I decided to show her exactly how much fun I can have with you.” His voice was light, but there was a hard anger in his eyes. “I assume she’s one of the ones who thought I was an escort?”

You nodded, shamefaced. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It would have been pretty funny, until she-” He broke off abruptly.

You side-eyed him. “She what?”

“She made a comment,” Talsim said tactfully, “about you. It suggested that you must be paying me a lot to, uh.” He stopped again. “Never mind. The specifics aren’t important. She was very drunk.”

“Mm.” The cool night air stung your already-teary eyes as you stepped outside.

Talsim sighed. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t do anything,” you protested.

“You’re getting mopey again. Cut it out.” He grabbed your hand, winding his fingers through yours. “I am here with you because I love you and she’s a bitch for thinking otherwise.”

You gave a weak laugh and Talsim stopped. “Don’t believe me?” he asked. His face was suddenly in front of yours, a grin playing on his lips. “Would you like me to show you?”

His hand slipped under your chin, lifting your face to his. “I could show you how special you are to me,” he said. “Who cares what they think? Let them believe whatever they want.” He kissed the corner of your lips, teasingly chaste. “But you know that I’m here with you.” He kissed you again. “That I adore you.” Another kiss. “That nothing will ever, ever take me away from you.” Another. “You know what you have.” The kisses were starting to make you breathless and dizzy. “Can’t that be enough?”

“Slow down!” you said. Talsim drew back. “It’s… I… you’re right. It should be. I know I’m being stupid. I just thought maybe they would think better of me for once.”

“Sweetness, I have seen this sort of people before. They would find some way to undermine anything you do. Best thing is to just get away from them.” His hands repositioned on your face. “Now, I believe we were doing something rather important…”

He snagged a few more kisses before you pushed him away. “Home,” you said. “We should go home first.”

“We should,” Talsim agreed. “But we don’t have to.” You gave him a withering look and he sighed. “All right. Home first, then.”

Talsim slumped in the passenger’s seat, eyes on you as you started the car. His fingertips trailed lightly over your thigh. “You’re going to get us into an accident,” you told him. He sighed, but took his hand back.

“You’re no fun.” He sagged further in the seat, eyes closing. You focused on the road again.

“Hey.” His hand was on your leg again, but this time it was a reassuring touch. “Don’t look so sad.”

“I know it’s stupid,” you said. “They were never going to be nice to me. But I just wanted… I still want it.”

“That is stupid.” Talsim tugged his hair out of its bun and shook it down into its usual braid. “But I understand why you’re sad. You just need time.”

“Time,” you agreed. “And maybe a very good distraction?”

Your gaze was on the road, but you could see his answering grin. “Oh, I think I can do that for you.”

#exophilia #fae boyfriend #fae lover #fae #monster lover #monster boyfriend

[fakexface]

Track 3: Xanny

Author’s Notes: Uh yeah uh this is pretty much just smut. That's it. Larry takes a Xanax and has stoned sex at a party with an OC of mine, Autumn. Smut isn't my forte but... The world needs more Larry Johnson smut. They're both over the age of 18 here. I do not condone the taking of random pills that may or may not be laced with god knows what at parties. Always have a friend that will be sober the entire night with you just in case. Okay. Don't drive buzzed or drunk or stoned. Forgive me Father for I have SINNED. Track 1: !!!!!!! Track 2: Bad Guy

“I'm in their second-hand smoke; still just drinking canned coke.”

           The party was already in full-force by the time they arrived. Ashley met them outside, a red cup in her hand with god knows what in it; Sal didn’t come, instead staying back at the house with Todd and Neil and Aaron. Autumn didn’t mind- she knew this was in no way Sal’s preferred place. Too many people, too much chaos, too much everything.

           Larry had picked her up in his mother’s truck; she’d almost ran late. Maple hadn’t been much help, either, when it came to her outfit selections. In the end, she decided on a black sweater dress and a pair of red thigh high socks and a pair of black, knee high boots. And to her surprise, Larry had gotten “dressed up”, as well; gone was the tan Sanity’s Fall shirt and old jeans. No, instead he wore a black v-neck tee and a pair of acid wash jeans.

           “I almost feel bad for being so late,” Autumn mumbled as she slid out of the truck, glancing around. “How’d you find out about this?”

           “Ash. Some kids from her art class at the college talked about it,” Larry replied with a crooked smile, his arm wrapping around her shoulders. “And college kids throw the best parties. Especially rich college kids.”

           “Which is why we’re in the town over.” Ash joined in, walking on Autumn’s other side. “Drinks are free for all; make them yourself!” She called as she disappeared into the crowd.

           The scent hit her almost immediately, a wall of sweat, sex, booze and weed. Nose scrunching up, she glanced around; people were mainly lingering, talking, laughing. But music played- a deep, rumbling bass that shook the floorboards and reverberated within her chest.

           “Damn,” Larry murmured, his arm slipping down from her shoulders to her waist. “They’ve got a killer sound system here.”

           “You’re tellin’ me,” she shook her head, glancing up at him. This was also his scene- he was extroverted more than she was. Stormy hues slipped across the foyer, taking in the low lighting, the smoke lingering in the air. “I’m gonna get some drinks.”

           “You, drinking?”

           “’m gonna get water, an’ you’re getting something that doesn’t have a lot of alcohol.”

           His lips turned down in a pout. “Party pooper.”

           “I can’t drive stick.”

           “… Good point. I’ll find you?”

           That had been nearly twenty minutes ago. But in that time, she’d found herself a closed bottle of water in the fridge, and grabbed Larry a simple Miller Lite. He liked beer. He didn’t get vodka. Not tonight.

           She’d also ended up finding people she knew from some of her classes. But the biggest surprise? Seeing a pair of stormy blue hues a shade lighter than her own, messy brown hair, and blond hair that was normally combed to perfection. Dancing. Close. Very close.

           She’d had to do a double take.

           Aaron did come to the party- and with a friend, it seemed. She couldn’t help but grin; her twin brother had been crushing on Travis for far too long. How he’d managed to convince him to come to a college party an hour away from Nockfell and dance, she’d never know. Or, well, she’d find out tomorrow.

           A glance to her phone’s screen showed that it was almost eleven thirty- they’d arrived at eleven. Had Larry gotten lost? Had something happened? Worry tugged at the edges of her mind; she was ready to dial his number when familiar hands gripped her hips. “Have I told you that this dress makes your body look downright sinful?” He murmured against her ear as he pressed against her back.

           A shudder danced through her as he squeezed. “Once or twice. Why’d you think I wore it?” Turning in his grip, she leaned back slightly, studying his face. His pupils weren’t blown, but… “… What’d you take?”

           “Nothing- not yet.” He flashed a dangerous grin as he held up a small, rectangular pill. A bar.

           Surprise had her brows raising. “That’s- a benzodiazepine? Xanax?” She squinted, trying to see the word etched into the pill.

           “Yep.”

           “… And you’re gonna take it?”

           “… Yep.”

           “… If we wreck because I don’t know stick, it’s your fault.”

           He flashed her a wicked grin before opening his mouth, tongue lolling out. He placed the pill on it, took hold of her water bottle, tilted his head back and stole a drink, swallowing the pill.

           “You’re awful.”

           “The worst, baby.” He agreed, winking.

           “You don’t know if that was laced with anything!”

           “Well, we’re gonna find out, aren’t we?”

           Shaking her head, she grabbed hold of his hand. “You’re dangerous.”

           “Says you,” he replied with a slow smirk, his gaze trailing down from her eyes, lingering on her lips. “Let’s dance.”

           “Aaron’s here.” She stated, nodding towards the pair.

           “… Is that… Holy shit is that Travis?” He wheezed, his eyes wide as he took in the sight. “Who knew church boy…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

           “All he needed was to get outta Nockfell…”

           Larry hummed, pressing closer as he reached up to tilt her head back towards him. “So,” he murmured, dipping down to ghost his lips across hers. “Let’s go.”

           “Go?” She echoed, pulling back, a brow raising before realization hit. “Larry, no,” she began, only to be cut off by a gasp leaving her lips as his thigh slid between hers, pressing, rubbing. “Larry I swear to God-”

           “C’mon, no one will miss us… And there are plenty of bedrooms upstairs…” His lips trailed across her jaw, down to her neck, lingering. “And you want this.”

           “You’re stoned.” She argued weakly, brow furrowing as he shifted his thigh.

           “Not really. It was a low dose- you know I’ve taken more than just that.” He pulled back, reaching up to brush her hair back from her face. “C’mon, ‘Tum.”

           Stormy hues glanced around- Ash was nowhere to be seen, her brother didn’t even realize they were in the same room… It wouldn’t hurt… Right? “I blame circumstance for this.” She decided before grabbing his hand and pulling him along, ignoring the laugh he let out.

           “Maybe you should have taken one. I have another…”

           “I’m taking a hard pass on that.”

           They took the stairs quickly, disappearing to the second floor. Larry took the lead, then, going from room to room, checking the doors. “They’re all-” he began to pout, bottom lip jutting out until she slid to her knees beside the door.

           “Gimme your wallet,” she demanded, holding out a hand. He didn’t hesitate, pulling it out of his pants and setting it in her hand. “If this has a spring-latch or a slanted-latch, we’ll be in luck…”  She mumbled as she pulled his license out. Pressing a hand against the door, she pushed as hard as she could on it while using her other hand to slide the card into the gap between the doorknob and the door, dragging it down until it was at an almost 90 degree angle with the doorknob. She stuck her tongue out as she tilted the end of the card facing her towards the doorknob before bending it quickly the other way, causing it to slip under the end of the slant-latch. A soft cheer escaped her as the door opened.

           “Holy shit,” Larry grinned, taking his license and wallet back as she rose to her feet. “How’d you learn how to do that?”

           “My bedroom used to be on the second floor of our house, and I didn’t wanna jump out the window, so I learned how to do that. I can do it with a bobby pin, too.” A shrug as she pushed the door open farther, revealing a bedroom.

           Larry wasted no time, stepping in and pulling her in with him before closing the door behind them. He turned on her, looking her over before backing her into the door. His hands gripped her hips as he stole her lips in a searing kiss. She reached up, tangling her fingers in his hair, tugging enough to get a pained noise from his lips.

           “Bed. Not against a wall.” She whispered into the kiss. He made a noise of agreement and pulled back, fully expecting her to follow. But she didn’t. Instead, she leaned back against the door with a smirk. “Go lay on the bed.”

           Twenty minutes later, he had her undressed to her underwear. The Xanax was taking effect, making his movements slower, more relaxed. Or, it would, if she wasn’t currently kissing the head of his dick. Her tongue darted out in a kitten lick, stormy hues closed, listening to the soft noises Larry let out.

           He always was vocal in bed.

           She liked that about him.

           His hands were tangled in her hair, not pulling, just resting, holding. His eyes were closed, lips open to release those wonderful soft noises as she opened her mouth and began to take more of him in. Times like these, she was glad for her almost non-existent gag reflex.

           After all, he was big- not outrageously so, but proportionate to his body size. Bigger than some of the others she’d had in the past.

           She curled her tongue around him, drawing forth a startled moan as the piercing dragged along the heated, sensitive flesh. He gasped out, his hands tightening in her hair. She couldn’t quite tell what he’d said as she swallowed around him- some bastardized mixture of “Oh, God,” and her name.

           “That’s a good boy,” she murmured hoarsely as she pulled back, her hand taking over, stroking him with long, even pulls. His hips shifted on the bed, wanting more. She took her time, looking him over- completely naked, his chest was flushed, his cheeks were rosy, his hair spread out around his head like a dark halo. He looked like sin incarnate in that moment, with his eyes wide and pupils blown. “Are you a good boy?” She asked sweetly, tilting her head to the side.

           “Yes, yes,” he nodded, licking his lips.

           “Good.” Pulling her hand away, she listened as he whimpered. “I’m gonna ride you,” she spoke with confidence; it wasn’t often that she was able to take control. Normally, he was in control. But now? Now, he was soft and pliable and sweet and damn it all, she loved it.

           She shimmied off the bed before peeling her panties off; reaching behind herself, she unclipped her bra, letting it fall to the ground to join the rest of their clothes. A glance over her shoulder to make sure that yes, the door was locked again.

           “Baby,” Larry whined, reaching out for her.

           “Yes?” She crooned, taking his hand in her own as she climbed back onto the bed. His gaze raked across her skin, drinking in the eternally tanned tone, the freckles across the tops of her shoulders, the scar across her left ribs from an accident when she was younger.

           He reached up, brushing his fingers against that scar. “You’re beautiful.”

           “You’re stoned.”

           “True.”

           She leaned down, capturing his lips in a kiss as she settled into his lap, straddling his hips. Reaching down, she ghosted her hand across herself, drawing a soft gasp out of her lips before she took hold of him, a wonderful groan leaving his lips. Carefully, she guided him in, in, in, her head tilting back as she sank down onto him slowly.

           His hands went to her hips as if second nature, helping her, holding her still as she adjusted. They’d had a little bit of foreplay, yes- but the stretch was always there, no matter how many times they did this. “I never,” she began, shaking her head as sparks of pleasure danced along her skin, “would have thought that we’d be the co-couple to be fucking at someone else’s house.”

           He shifted his hips, giving a small thrust- testing the waters. “Yet here we are.” He replied as she adjusted her hips, getting comfortable. She reached back, bracing her hands on his thighs as she began a slow roll that had them both moaning. “You’re worse than I am,” he muttered, fingers flexing on her hips.

           “And how, oh-, how am I?”

           “Because,” he gave a stronger thrust, listening to the gasp that escaped her. “You planned this.”

           “I did not!”

           “You- fuck- did. Why else would you have had lube? And a condom?”

           She fell silent, shame coloring her cheeks as she looked away. “Shut up.”

           He laughed, a full, warm sound. “I love you.”

           “I love you- oh, fUCK,” she jolted as he took over the pace, pulling her down to meet him thrust for thrust. There went any sort of control she had over the situation; her head fell back as she rocked her hips, ignoring the burning in her thighs.

           Neither of them would last long, not at this rate.

           Not after the teasing that had occurred on the drive over, her hand creeping along his thigh while he drove, his fingers brushing against her folds as she read out the directions to him.

           They had both been planning on this.

           Sharp, pointed acrylic nails scratched across a tanned chest, drawing a pleased hiss from Larry’s lips as he snapped his hips up into her once, twice, three times before she collapsed against his chest, unable to do anything other than hold on as he took over. Blunt nails dug into her hips as he held her in place.

           Loud. They were being too loud, she thought distantly, but was unable to contain the moans that bubbled out. “Larry, Larry, oh god, Larry,” she whispered against his throat, pressing sloppy kisses against the skin.

           “I’m gonna,” he whispered harshly.

           “Please, please, please please please,” she whined as his hand snuck between their bodies, finding her clit and rubbing it quickly. She gasped, her stomach clenching- before burying her face in the crook of his neck and biting down- not enough to break the skin- to hold in her moans as her climax washed over her.

           He wasn’t far behind, groaning a mantra of her name on repeat as he slowed his thrusts, drawing out his pleasure before falling still.

           They lay there for a few minutes, panting, trying to catch their breath.

           “… Do you think people-”

           “Yes, Larry, people definitely heard us.”      

           “… Oops.”      

           Autumn snickered, shaking her head as she patted his chest. “We need to leave.”

           “… I’m…”

           “… You’re sober enough that you can at least help me drive.”

           “Can we get food on the way home?” Larry asked, listening as she laughed again. A smile curled his lips as he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, brushing his fingers through her hair. “I’m sorry I’m hungry.”

           “At least I’m not stoned.”

           “Good point…”

#when we all fall asleep where do we go #xanny #larry johnson #sally face #sally face oc #sally face fanfiction #larry x oc #fakexface sin #tw: drug use #although it's hella minor #Ashley Campbell #she makes a brief appearance here #so does #travis phelps

[bitletsanddrabbles]

Downton Court Hotel pt. 6

Completely unpolished draft of the reception, part one.

Of course, the reception was only supposed to be one part.

WHY? WHY, SCENE?!? WHY DID YOU HAVE TO SPLIT UP ON ME? WHY DO I HAVE TO CARE ABOUT PACING? THIS IS JUST A STUPID FLUFF THING!!!! ARGH!!!!

I will probably sit on this one a few days and do a bit more polishing, but for now....

Also, while I don’t have a definite setting for this, it clearly happens sometime before April, 2019.

(The file for this is 34 pages. How did this silly, stupid thing get to be 34 pages long?!?)

Fandom: Downton Abbey

Characters: Phyllis Baxter, Joseph Molesley, Tom Branson, Sybbie Branson, Sybil Branson, Thomas Barrow, Anna Bates

Relationship: Baxter/Molesley, canon pairings

Warnings: Bored six year old child. Bored nearly-forty year old Thomas.

https://bitletsanddrabbles.tumblr.com/post/184219301659/downton-court-hotel-pt-5

Phyllis was exhausted, but at the same time, she couldn't remember when she'd ever felt happier. She lost track of who had shaken her hand, congratulated her, wished her all the best in the future, and moved on to her husband.

Her husband. She may have stayed Baxter on paper, having decided after changing it to Coyle and back that it was entirely too much hassle to bother with again, but she was now Joseph's wife. The thought brought her smile back up full force whenever it started to fade from weariness.

A man she'd never met approached her, a girl of about six hoisted in her arms. "Tom Branson," the man introduced himself and she immediately placed the name. "Pleased to meet – and congratulate – you."

"Thank you," she smiled. "Joseph has told me all about you. It's a pleasure to finally meet."

"Why didn't you have a flower girl?" the girl, who she deduced was his daughter, asked before her father could reply.

"Sybbie," both Mr. Branson and the woman just behind him, who had to be Lord Grantham's youngest, Lady Sybil, scolded in unison. "Manners."

Not quite willing to let anyone get in trouble on her account, Phyllis smiled at the little girl and employed a technique Thomas called 'creative license', but most other people called 'lying'. "A flower girl is supposed to throw rose petals down the aisle," she explained, not entirely certain if it was true, but dimly remembering something like that from a movie she'd once seen. She hadn't had a flower girl in her first wedding either. "And Father Travis is going to have another function in the church later, so I didn't want to make a mess."

The little girl frowned, but didn't offer any argument other than a discontent, "Oh."

"Come on, Sybbie, let's say hello to Mr. Molsley and then we can go get something to eat." Mr. Branson gave Phyllis a look that was both grateful and long suffering.

"Can we have the cake now?"

"The cake comes later."

Sybil Branson stepped in front of her and shook her hand. "I'm dreadfully sorry about that."

"Don't be," Phyllis smiled and shook her head. "She's darling, and what little girl doesn't want to be a flower girl?"

The other woman thought a moment, then replied, "Actually I can't see my sister Mary wanting it. She'd probably have thought it menial. Mary is a bride-or-nothing sort." She laughed a little at some private thought and took Phyllis's hand. "Anyway, thank you so much for inviting us, and congratulations. I'm sure you'll both be very happy."

"Thank you."

And the line wound on, mostly unfamiliar faces given that, outside of the wedding party and a couple of odd friends she'd made in recent years, the guests were all Joseph's friends and family. He'd asked, at least a hundred times, if there wasn't anyone she wanted to invite, but most of the friends she'd known before the divorce hadn't wanted anything to do with a jail bird. Thomas's sister had sent her a congratulatory email and regretted not being able to get the time off, which was probably for the best anyway. Another congratulatory friend had moved to America. She supposed it should have been sad, having so few people to invite, but she found she didn't care. She remembered Daisy asking Anna at the bachlorette party if she regretted going to the registrar's office rather than having a church ceremony and Anna replying that she'd rather have the right man than the right wedding.

Sneaking a sideways glance at Joseph, Phyllis couldn't help thinking she'd gotten both.

Once the last hand was shaken, Joseph held out his arm, the perfect, gallant gentleman, and led her over to the head table. They'd decided, after much debate, on having the food on the table itself rather than a buffet style, although it did cost a bit more. They'd also decided to forgo the speeches, although Phyllis half suspected that someone would find a way to slip one or two in. Mostly, though, she looked forward to an evening of polite conversation, good food, and some dancing.

She was somewhat surprised to find that Thomas had taken his seat at the table already. The rest of the bride's maids and groom's men were still wandering around, admiring the cake and greeting familiar faces among the guests. There were the usual number of flashes going off and people being cajoled in for impromptu group photographs. Thomas, however, had acquired a glass of white wine and was simply watching, although he did stand when she came up next to him.

"What are you doing?" she asked, careful that it didn't sound like a reprimand. "I thought you would be out visiting, not waiting for dinner." She took her seat, letting Joseph push the chair in so that it didn't muss her dress. She had done quite a bit of fussing to him about how difficult it was to move in it, and she was flattered that he seemed to have listened.

"What can I say, I'm hungry." He replied with an easy smile and a lift of his glass. "Besides, outside of Mrs. Branson, there's no one here I know that I don't already see at work nearly every day."

"I thought you might at least want to play with their little girl," Phyllis teased, giving him a sideways smile and looking for Sybbie among the crowd. "You certainly talk about her enough."

"Have you ever tried entertaining a six year old girl on an empty stomach?" he arched an eyebrow at her. "Or worse, one with an empty stomach?"

"Fair, I suppose," she allowed.

“I'm really quite flattered the Bransons made it," Joseph said, waving over one of the caterers circling the crowd with glasses of wine. "She may not go by Lady Sybil anymore, but it's an honour to have her."

"I'll remind you of that after Sybbie takes a handful out of the cake before it's even cut," Thomas replied, smirking into his glass.

That made Joseph pause. "Er, you don't think she really will, do you?"

"I wouldn't think so," Phyllis replied, turning down a glass of wine when the caterer offered. "She's precocious, but she seems like a well behaved little girl."

"No little girl stays well behaved when she's bored," Thomas argued philosophically. "Nor any little boy either. Just you wait, she'll get up to something, mark my words."

"Well her parents still have her outnumbered, so hopefully it won't be too bad," Phyllis reasoned, trying to keep Joseph from getting up and going to guard the cake personally, which he was looking like he might do. "Your parents never did."

"No, they didn't have the good sense to stop at one, did they?"

Phyllis frowned at him a little, reaching over to place a hand on his arm. At his mild, querying expression, she decided not to say anything. After all, perhaps he really had been referring to the difficulty of riding herd on four little ones at a time, rather than questioning his own existence. And if he really was depressed, he certainly didn't want her to know, so pressing wasn't a good idea. Still, there was an undertone to the observation she didn't quite like.

"Mrs. Molesley? Mr. Molesley?" their photographer stepped up to the table, catching Phyllis's attention. "I don't suppose I could get a shot, could I?"

"What, now?" Joseph blinked, looking from his glass to his plate. "We've not eaten anything."

The photographer gave him a highly amused look. "Do you really want a picture of the two of you with bits of lasagna all over your plate? Better to take one now while everything's clean and pretty looking."

"Good point, I suppose. Very well," straightening his tie, Joseph took his glass. "Er, what should we do?"

"Just lean together, raise you glasses, and smile," the woman replied, playing with one of her lenses. Then she looked at Phyllis and realized she didn't have a glass. "Oh. Or, hm..."

"Here," Thomas passed his still mostly full glass over. "It's just for a picture, right?"

"Right," the photographer beamed as Phyllis took the glass and, leaning into her husband, raised it. Thomas moved over another seat, getting himself well outside of the frame. "Wonderful, perfect. Hold that pose and..." there was a click and a flash of light. This was followed by the camera being turned at several angles, the lens adjusted, and three or four more flashes of light before the newlyweds were allowed to relax. "There. That'll look wonderful in the wedding book."

Thomas smirked and reclaimed his glass. "I hope you're planning on having copies of that wedding book made.  All of the bridesmaids are going to want one."

"I suppose they will, won't they?" Joseph sighed. "Ah well. Hopefully it won't be too expensive."

Phyllis watched the photographer taking at least a dozen pictures of the cake from various angles, including having one of the groomsmen steady her as she got up on a chair, and wondered. "I suspect that will depend on how big it winds up being. She's taking an awful lot of pictures."

The observation seemed to somewhat worry her husband. "I thought all wedding photographers took a lot of pictures? I mean, surely we're not going to have all of those cake pictures in our book, are we? We only need one or two."

"Didn't you select the package that lets you decide what to use and what not?" Thomas asked, eyeing them sideways over the rim of his glass. Phyllis thought she detected a smirk to his tone.

"Yes," she answered hastily. Really, the worst was over. It was time to relax and have fun, not work themselves into a nervous state over the wedding photos. "Now that you mention it, I do remember doing that."

"Well the, you've nothing to worry about."

The conversation wandered to how nicely the ceremony had gone, what was on the menu  (Thomas was pleased to hear it was prime rib rather than lasagna), and the plans for their honeymoon. Phyllis was much more excited about seeing Paris with Joseph than she'd been about going to Monte Carlo with Peter. Hearing him talk about the Louvre and Notre Dame alone was enough to make her wish she was already there.

Of course, there were other things she was looking forward to, as Thomas noted with a quietly wicked grin that confused her husband, but made her blush. Still, this time they weren't the most exciting thing and she couldn't help but think that was important.

Slowly the other members of the table took their places. It was about time for the food to be served when Mrs. Branson came past, looking somewhat worried. "Has anyone seen Sybbie?"

The question ran up and down the table with a resounding negative. "Have you tried by the cake?" Joseph asked. Clearly the emphasis that had been put on young girls and cake over the course of the evening had made an impression.

"Don't worry," she gave him a knowing smile. "Tom has stationed himself by it just in case." She sighed and looked around. "I'm certain she's just playing somewhere, but I'd like to find her before the food comes out."

"If not, I'm sure she'll come out when she realizes everyone's eating," Anna assured her.

"Oh, undoubtedly." With a sigh, the young mother moved off to the next table.

"You know, I used to think I wanted children," Joseph noted. "Now I'm starting to think I'm too old."

"Nonsense," Gwen laughed from Anna's far side. "I know people who have had children at your age. You'd make wonderful parents."

"Perhaps," Phyllis allowed. "But if we do decide to go that route, I think I'd just as soon adopt."

"Plenty of unwanted children in the world," Thomas agreed. Again, there was that note to his voice that suggested it was more than a simple observation. "And you've both good steady jobs. I'm sure you'd make good parents."

"Yes, well, it's something to talk about, in the future," Joseph allowed. "Although I'm all for getting through the honeymoon first."

"True," Thomas nodded sagely, his eyes fixed on a point just beyond his plate. "After all, depending on how things go, you might not need to adopt."

"Thomas Barrow!" Anna swatted his arm. "That is hardly polite."

"True though, isn't it?" Thomas noted with a smirk. Before anyone could react, his entire body did an odd jerking motion and a squeal of laughter erupted from under the table. "Got you!" he proclaimed, with a vicious grin.

"What on earth?" Joseph stared at the table cloth as if it were possessed, then at Thomas as if he were possessed, and back.

Pushing his chair back a little and lifting the fall of white cloth, Thomas revealed the source of the laughter: Sybbie Branson, trapped neatly between his legs. Looking up, he waved at the little girl's mother and called, "Sybil! I think this belongs to you!"

"No, no, let me go!" Sybbie protested, still laughing, trying to extract herself from his grip. Unfortunately for her years on his feet had given Thomas rather strong leg muscles, so the scissor trap held firm.

"Young lady, get out here," her mother scolded when she reached the table. "It's time for food."

"I don't want food – just cake!"

"Haven't you heard? You can't have cake if you don't eat your dinner first," Thomas informed her, reaching down and hauling her into his lap, clipping his head on the table as he did so. "Those are the rules of weddings."  

Sybbie wasn't having any of it. "You're making that up!"

"No, he's not," Phyllis shook her head, fighting back a smile. The rest of the table was trying, and more or less failing, to keep a straight face. "That's a very important rule at weddings. It's so the delicious wedding food doesn't go to waste."

"And there's going to be all sorts of good things to eat besides cake," Joseph chimed in.

"Like what?"

"Come with Mummy and see," her mother instructed, holding out her hand. Thomas released the little girl, only to have her vanish under the table again and come out the other side. She shot straight past the offered hand toward where her father was standing.

“I get to sit next to Daddy!"

Mrs. Branson sighed and shook her head. "How Mama and Papa put up with three of us, I'll never know." With a long suffering, apologetic smile, she turned and headed toward her seat.

"Mmm, I think we should definitely get through the honeymoon before we discuss children," Phyllis gave Joseph a sideways, knowing grin. It wasn't that she was opposed to the idea entirely, just that she wasn't certain she was up to it any more than he was. "Maybe do some baby sitting before we make up our minds."

Once everyone was seated, Joseph stood up. "Good evening all," he started, wearing the hesitant, humble smile that Phyllis loved so much. "Thank you all for joining us tonight for this very special occasion. I know you're all hungry and we'd said no speeches, but I can't let this moment pass without saying a few words."

“Of course you can't."

"Thomas, shush."

Whether he missed the quietly hissed conversation from the bride's party or simply chose to ignore it, Joseph continued. "Growing up, I always assumed this day would come. Everyone was always talking about getting married and having a family and children. It seemed as inevitable as graduating school and getting a job. Just one of those things people did. I didn't even know I was looking forward to it until suddenly I was five years out of school, employed, and still single. I hadn't even really dated, being absorbed in my studies and all. By the time I was forty I'd decided that maybe it wasn't going to happen. It was one of those things like getting a career with a bachelor's in history." A small, but well meaning chuckle went through the assembly. "I gave up, and that may sound pathetic and whiny, but it's true, and in the end I'm glad I did." He looked down at Phyllis and his smile grew. "Because this day  wouldn't mean half as much as it does if I were still young and taking it for granted. This love wouldn't be half as true, I don't think. And I'm not going to talk about how it's going to last forever or anything like that, because that would be taking it for granted as well and Phyllis? If there is one thing I never want to do, it's take you for granted. I want to be the man you deserve, and the man who deserves you, and that's not just going to happen. It's going to take a lot of effort, but I'm ready. I'm excited." He looked back out over the room. "And I am so very, very glad that you are all here to be a part of that. Thank you."  He sat down to a round of applause, punctuated by an 'aw' here and there.

Smiling so broadly it hurt and fighting back tears, Phyllis leaned over and kissed his cheek. He took her hand, squeezing it, and then they both wound up blinking as every camera in the room flashed at them. Clearing her throat softly she suggested, "Maybe we should have some food."

"Er, yes, food. Food is a good idea."

#downton abbey #downton abbey fanfiction #modern au #phyllis baxter #joseph molesley #tom branson #sybil branson #sybbie branson #thomas barrow #anna bates #wedding reception #shenanigans

[grapsandclaps]

PROGRESS UNBOXING PART DEUX

Hello everyone! Welcome to the final edition of Grapa and Claps for 2017 which took me to Camden for Show 104 of the year for Progress Wrestling's mystery show - Unboxing which as with the word mystery it was actually a mystery to who or what would turn up???

But as with any trip to Camden, it was time to take in a couple of the sights and sounds of the town before going to the graps.

First port of call was The Black Heart where rumours of a possible BritWres Pool Title taking place were unfounded due to Champion Athers strategically placing a 'No Pool' sign on the table to take his reign further into 2018 😉

Drink in this establishment though was as expensive as ever with one of the drinks on offer being £7.80 for a 6% pint of Beavertown - ridiculous 😣. I instead went for a pint of Camden Town INK which is a cross between a stout and a porter and cost the sum of £4.70 for a pint.

After working through the crowds of the Progress Fans Forum meet up, it was time to get to the next destination of Brewdog for the inevitable dry bumming of £6 for 2/3rds and surprise surprise I wasn't far away. 2/3rds of 5.6% Big Brown at a cost of £5.60 and also 2/3rds of a 6% ale for £5.40 weren't too bad with the Big Brown maybe picking up the best drink award.

An early start to proceedings was had with a start of 3pm at the ballroom for Progress Wrestlings last show of the year. So let's see what went down:

First match up was a Survivor Series style 4 on 4 elimination match with the teams entering the festivities were as follows - Moustache Mountain, Aussie Open, Chris Brookes and Inflatable Lykos and also the Tag Team Champions - ITV 1's BAFTA Award Winning Drama THE GRIZZLED YOUNG VETS.

The rules of this was Tyler Bate and Trent Seven were made respective captains of their team with them picking high school style - all lined up. So the teams ended up.being Trent, a reluctant Zack Gibson who was on great form again trading barbs with Trent, Kyle Fletcher and Inflatable Lykos vs Mark Davis, Tyler Bate, Chris Brookes and the unfortunate James Drake who was picked last (much sympathy here from 14 year old FAT Andrew Ogden of Hollingworth High School, Milnrow who always got picked last)

This was a lengthy but fun match with Gibson and Drake being early casualties getting done over by shenanigans involving the Inflatable Lykos. One of the main comedy parts of this match was the Inflatable being chucked off the Electric Ballroom balcony by Chris Brookes to the awaiting congregation below to the laughter of the 700 strong crowd.

Finish eventually came with Trent Seven and Chris Brookes being the last two men woth Brookes pulling out the Cheeky Roll Up victory over Trent to win in 22 minutes (the whole segment was just over 40 minutes, like an opening to RAW) - I just wasn't a big fan of the GYV's looking silly here if being critical of the match but i'm sure they will bounce back.

2nd match was Jack Sexsmith vs Joe Coffey in a interesting match up as it was Sexsmith in a different predicament against a much larger opponent. This match I felt was to get current No.1 contender Jack Sexsmith over a serious wrestler and I have got to say it worked here with him and Coffey producing a very good match which Sexsmith won with the Crossface for the surprise submission victory.

The Sexsmith push has been a bit stop start obviously with him getting injured in the SSS16 when I guess he would have been prominent in the latter stages of that tournament. But since then he has played beating stick having been done over by Haskins, Havoc and Eddie Dennis, I am just hoping now that there can be a sustained push now to get him ready for a match with Travis Banks for what would be a great title match.

3rd match up was a 6 way Womens contendera contest with a multitude of new faces to the Chapter shows with Chakara vs Charlie Morgan vs Charli Evans vs Millie Mckenzie vs Candyfloss vs Sierra Loxton.

One thing to note early is that Candyfloss's music just doesn't suit her bubbly character, The music is all dark and moody, when it should be a more upbeat and snappy pop tune.

This was a really good showcase match here with everyone getting their spots in, including many German suplexes from Millie Mckenzie for whom 2018 could be a huge year. Sierra Loxton I like the look of as well, good character and a good wrestler - very promising.

It was Millie who ended up with the victory here hitting a neckbreaker type move for the popular win. Millie vs Toni Storm in 2018 could be a great match to set up to later in the year with the right build.

Half Time Main Event was a '12 Days of Christmas' Tag Team Match with Jimmy Havoc & Mark Haskins vs the Progress debuting Clint Margera & Drew Parker. In all sense and purposes this was a Tag Team Hardcore match with the usual cavalcade of weapons including Kendo sticks, tables, chairs and lego.

I never understand why if doing a hardcore match why wouldn't you use Sticklebricks instead of Lego but thats just a personal choice of mine.

In terms of a Hardcore match it served a purpose and was good in places but having already seen the Fight Club Pro DeathHouse this year with at least 3 of these characters, everything else past it this year has gone down like a 'wet fart in church' and would be a late entrant into the 'get in the bin' awards for 2017 - i'm just fed up of these type of matches now.

That aside this was a good introduction for Parker and Clint to Progress but they eventually fell to the team of Havoc and Haskins in 17 minutes due to a Lego related finisher.

After the break and a great review from our Geoff of Bang Bang Chicken it was time to get into the meaty sized portion of the second half of the show, starting off with Flash Morgan Webster looking hopeful of victory but this was soon banished with the opening sounds of 'I Will Be Heard' by Hatebreed signalling the arrival of Rampage Brown to the roar of the Camden Massive.

Very good 10 minute match played to the backgrpund noise of the '12 days of Rampage' which first got an airing at a TIDAL show recently. The original version at a wrestling show was sang to Ryback at PCW Bradford last Christmas for those who could remember.

Webster plays the underdog really well against much larger opponents and doesn't really get the credit he deserves. But for all of his effort he was eventually put away with a SUPERBOMB from the top rope and then finished off with the 'Piledriver of Death' from Rampage for the loss.

After the match Webster got on the mic to say that the run of losses has took a toll on him that much that he is now taking time away from Progress to regain his bearings. This is very similar to what Progress are currently doing with Doug Williams at the moment 🤔

It is to be noted that the winning theme of Rampage's was not 'I Will Be Heard' but more 'I Won't Be Heard'.

Semi Main Event was for the Progress World Championship with Champion Travis Banks facing a returning and in what was a surprise to many - Will Ospreay who when last seen in Progress was losing a 'Loser Leaves Progress' match vs Jimmy Havoc in March this year.

This was 20 minutes of just fantastic high-octane action between 2 of the best wrestlers in the world. For all what people think of Ospreays usual high flying antics, his ground game has really improved in the last year since his move to pastures new in New Japan.

Plenty of near falls in this match with Ospreay kicking out of the Slice of Heaven and Kiwi Crushers, Banks also kicked out of many finishing attempts from Ospreay as well. The end came though at just after 20 mins with Travis locking Ospreay in the Lion's Clutch Submission for the win - this was a late contendet for Match of the Year, you owe it to yourself to watch it on demand.

After the match TK Cooper made an in-ring appearance to say to tag team partner and friend Travis Banks that when he is fit in 2018 that he is possibly coming for a Progress World Title shot in the future. If he can stay fit next year, TK could do big things - he has the look of a young version of The Rock in my opinion.

Main Event time with the WWE UK Title taking prominence tonight with current WWE UK Champion Pete Dunne facing off with a one off returning Gentleman Jack Gallagher.

Now in his time away from the UK scene, Gallagher has carved out a decentish career in the WWE starting off as the quirky umbrella carrying gentleman who also had a fantastic upbeat theme, he looked so different to the rest of the bland blokes in trunks brigade that are prevalent on 205 live that the crowd really got behind. I can say first hand that Gallagher is a lovely person to meet and has some of the warmest hands around (only matched by Chris 'Taff Master' off of Twitter)

But in the last 6 months that has been ripped up totally by WWE who have turned Jack into a dastardly heel with an utter dirge of a theme tune and also stuck him with perennial momentum killer Brian Kendrick. Jacks likeable personality has literally disappeared and he is now just 'bland bloke in slacks and brogues'.

So with utter toss theme tune in hand, Gallagher made his way to the ring to a good reaction to face the Bruiserweight Pete Dunne for said WWE UK Championship.

A good match in its own right but it did have an hard act to follow after Ospreay vs Banks which for me was Match of the night. Lasting just over 15 minutes, it was Pete Dunne who retained the title hitting two bitter ends on his way to victory over a valiant Gallagher who looked good in defeat.

By the looks of it, Pete Dunne will now be moving on to a match with Joe Conners early next year.

Drink prices - £4.90 for Camden Pale Ale and £3 a pint for coke.

Leaving the ballroom it was then decided to have a swift drink in the Euston Tap which I had 2/3rds of a Beavertown Stout for £4.60 and it was very nice indeed.

I would like to note the train ride home was also one of the noisiest ever singing along with a load of merry Stoke City supporters who had just seen there team get hammered 5-0 with Chelsea, they were in great spirits though and made the journey home a fun one.

So that was that for the last show of the year and I feel despite some gripes e.g. the hardcore tag, the lengthy opening and some questionable music choices, I thought it was a really good end to the year. Ospreay vs Banks, Sexsmith vs Coffey and Gallagher vs Dunne are ones to watch back when it arrives on demand.

Hope you have enjoyed reading and see ylu again in 2018 for the first review of the year which will be Progress in Birmingham #grapsandclaps.

[doomedandstoned]

'Abbey Rose' An Excursion Into The Malevolent World of The Munsens

~Review by Billy Goate~

Live Photos by Javier Armendariz and Travis Heacock (B&W)

I've always had a soft spot for the MUNSENS, going back to the 'Weight of Night' (2014) days.   My first opportunity to meet and interview the Denver band came during their 2015 tour stop in Eugene, and the performance did not disappoint.   They're an affable bunch; down to earth dudes who enjoy skating, photography, and leveling concert halls with ripe riffage.

In the intervening years, Mike Goodwin (bass, vocals) and Shaun Goodwin (guitar) have teamed up with a new member to the Munsens clan for a second record, 'Abbey Rose' (2016) -- a dark, dramatic huddle of tracks averaging +/- 10 minutes each.

I asked Mike for some background on the new EP.

"Following the release of Weight of Night we didn’t play for quite a while," he recounts, "as our original guitarist Jon decided he was going to live in Asbury Park, New Jersey full-time and wasn’t going to be able to come out to Denver to join us permanently, or even periodically, as we’d done throughout the history of the band."

The hunt was on for a replacement.

"Shaun and I continued to write and were set on finding the right person to join us, rather than rush a new lineup together.   Ultimately, we decided Shaun would move from drums to guitar and we would bring in a new drummer."   The two met Graham Wesselhoff "through our friends in Cloud Catcher and we’ve been running with it from there.   We are thrilled to have him in the band."

These mods to the lineup "played a significant part in the construction and sound of Abbey Rose."

I confess, it did take me a while to get into this record, though I've generally found this to be the case with compositions that operate on a grand scale (Dopesmoker being a prime example).   The Munsens are clearly going for the long game with Abbey Rose, preferring a carefully crafted climate of fear and loathing over quick thrills.   These insistent riffs burrow deep into the subconscious, baptizing us into a world of the uncanny.

Stylistically, let me just say how great it is to hear honest-to-goodness, bass-driven doom.   So much of the genre has become dominated by the guitar that it's easy to forget that the bass is so much more than a compliment to the rhythm section.   The capacity of the bass to step up to a leading role is something that, by now, has been amply demonstrated by duos Swamp Ritual, TVSK, Year of the Cobra, and the great Norwegian quintet Reptile Master.

Now, it's time we tackle this beastly anthology track-by-track...

1. You're Next

Abbey Rose by the Munsens

The album opener is a dank, brooding number, with seething vocals that drip with spite and hint of revenge.   "You're Next" and the pieces that follow are send backs to the classic ballad.  No, not the power ballads of '80s hair metal fame.   I have in mind dramatic stories set to song, like the unthinkable tale of Goethe’s Erlkönig, scored so powerfully by Franz Schubert.   The tradition reached a pinnacle in the 19th century, but saw revival in early blues and the folktales Bob Dylan.

There's definitely something sinister afoot in the epic before us.   We feel its stench in the raspy strain of the singing, the prominence of its black hearted baseline, and that dense wall of sound surrounding us.   There's a real sense of presence here, owing in no small part to the live recording (something the Munsens have insisted on for both EPs).   We have Jamie Hillyer of Module Overload to thank for capturing the ambience, as it were, of an empty church hall draped in shadows.   Dennis Pleckham of Bongripper put on the finishing touches, mastering at his Comatose Studios.

"You're Next" has developed quite a bit since I filmed the Munsens performing it year before last at Old Nick's Pub.   "Though it was written prior to Graham’s addition, his drumming has given the song a new feel," Mike observes.   "Shaun and Jon also have much different guitar playing styles.   Shaun had the structure and theme of that song in his head for quite some time, but it didn’t really take shape until we began jamming it out with the new lineup."

Wade in the water Cast your eyes on the sea Looming in torture Beyond the still of the leaves

As I listen, my chest tightens; my throat is seized with dread.   Clearly, I've become entangled in the tentacles of my own imagination, as I did at 12 years old when I swore that a lanky, medieval Satan was hiding in my closet.   The song "can be probably taken a few different levels," Mike tells me, "but that’s up to the listener."

Notwithstanding the ambiguity of interpretation, I found it helpful that the Munsens included lyrics for this release (obscure as they may be).   Personally, it's beyond annoying when a band withholds the words to their songs.   I understand the reasoning, but it really distracts from the listening experience when I'm left to guess what the hell's being said.   But I digress...

"We are psyched on how it turned out," Mike reflects, "though I think we all wish we had a bit more time to work on it, particularly with the drums. We thought they could have been 'larger.'   The lack of time to experiment the way we wished was part of the reason we released Abbey Rose as an EP, despite the running length."

2. Abbey Rose

Abbey Rose by the Munsens

Following "You're Next" comes the record's namesake, which is "framed around The Abbey Rose, a place that yields the image and world an individual desires, or thinks they desire, at the price of having to live with that persona infinitely."   The mood is reinforced by Mike Goodwin's ominous cover photo of an institution frozen in the clutches of night.

The cobblestone is rigid Yet it yields not a glimpse nor a sound The street offers no entrance No, the guests here, go around

The subtext of "Abbey Rose," we're told, is "the insufferable narcissism of our modern age, pushed to extremes by digital personas.   The additional irony lies in that the individual is able to attain and admire all they ever wanted, but are unable to present it to the world around them, the reason they desired such an appearance in the first place."

Curious about this worldview, I pressed Mike for details.   "I imagine a dismal view of the chaos and absurdity around us," he says.   "Lyrically, I wanted this EP to have something of a common thread, and 'You’re Next,' 'To Castile,' and 'Abbey Rose' are a bit similar in that they address a life spent pursuing something that doesn’t exist.   Or should the outcome indeed exist, is it worth the sacrifices endured to achieve it?"

Ultimately, "Abbey Rose" is an admonition against "flawed personal motivation, the groupthink of society, and religious zeal."

3. To Castile

Abbey Rose by the Munsens

"To Castile" takes "the slightly enlightened perspective of someone who has finally realized that it is all just an empty pursuit.   But even when staring the end in the face, they are still wrapped up enough in the bullshit that they continue to play the role.   It has a religious bend, through a fictional letter from Joan of England to her father Edward III from the Port of Bordeaux, while her envoy her swiftly killed by the plague."

I look from high out in the night This fright, it will be mine

The smart pacing of this song and its placement on the EP helps to establish an interconnected narrative.   It's something that really differentiates Abbey Rose from other records.   Admittedly, it is difficult to put something this cohesive together, let alone write a competent concept album that doesn't come across as a loose collection of songs.

4. The Hunt, Part II

Abbey Rose by the Munsens

The clear standout of the record for me is its final track, which guitarist Shaun Goodwin says is "about an evil being that haunts a village."   Part I of "The Hunt" actually began on the prior EP, where "the story is told from the perspective of those haunted by this witch.  They rally to hunt her until finally capturing her ('We’ve got the witch, the high is ours')."   Part II is told "from the evil being’s point of view, as she returns to haunt those that thought they had defeated her."

I will never die I will always rise I will haunt again There will be nothing left This is revenge

As with previous stories, there's an underlying meaning: "It's a metaphor for the evils in life that we each encounter -- addictions, bad relationships, etc. -- and the highs and lows that come along with them."

Mike elaborates: "Part I tells of the elated feeling after seemingly overcoming these wicked vices.   Part II brings the return of such evils, as they so often do in our lives.   Both tracks, and the riffs/lyrics in these tracks, are structured in such a way that you can feel these high and lows as the witch is hunted, defeated, and then encountered once again in stronger force."

We definitely get this impression from the guitar play, which now steps up to a more prominent role.   Shaun's riffmaking is teeming with emotion, building and building to a perfectly choreographed climax.

"Perhaps this metaphor does not hold true for everyone, but it represents a battle that many of us face on a daily basis.   I guess it can be interpreted as 'the hunt' for mental peace."

Thus ends our tour through the imposing Abbey Rose. If you dig it as much as I do, there's more to come.   "I’d say this album is a lot more thought out than anything else we’ve released, but our upcoming full album -- out late summer-- will feel more complete."   The band concludes, "We’ve also been looking to further define our individual sound in a realm that can feel increasingly contrived and this EP, in our opinion, is a greater step in that direction."

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