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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 1 year ago

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Country Roads, Take Me Home

Chapter Three of Sweet Home Alabama

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd), Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd)

Description: Linley's finally back home in Pigeon Creek, not that she's pleased to be there. But she's not back home to take in the sights or engage in a nostalgia trip. Linley's in Pigeon Creek for one reason and one reason only. There's no way she's leaving town without getting what she wants - even if she has to go through the man she married to get what she wants. Things are rarely ever as easy as just getting the papers signed, are they?

Themes: angst, love, smut, attraction

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2177

A/N: Chapter 3 is on deck! Linley's finally home in Alabama and the fur is going to fly! So this is where the drama in this story begins!

AO3: Cross-posted here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted here!

My Masterlist

Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part

The sun is just rising when the plane lands in Alabama. You rent a car and settle in for the four hour drive to Pigeon Creek. It's as you're driving through Greenville that your phone rings.

"Hello?" You hope this isn't your dad.

"You bitch!" It's Tasha. "I was your first friend in New York and I have to find out you're engaged like everyone else did? By reading the papers?"

"I know, Tash. But she didn't really give me a choice. She turned the ring around on my hand and blurted the whole thing out. If I had my way I would've been telling you all about it over mimosas this morning."

"Well you still can, y'know, babes? I'm at that little spot around the corner from your place with a few of the girls. Why don't you come by? We'll each treat you to a celebratory mimosa."

"I wish I could, Tash. But I'm not in New York right now. I'm in Alabama." You wince at the explosion of sound that comes through your earpiece. It sounds like all of your friends are loudly screaming advice down the phone to you, and if you weren’t driving and wearing a headset you’d have pulled the speaker away from your ear. Once the noise dies down, it takes you twenty minutes to placate her before you can hang up the phone, which is exactly how long it always takes to drive to Pigeon Creek from Greenville.

Everything in Pigeon Creek looks exactly like you remember it. Dusty and hot, with the same people doing the same things, just a little more worn than you remember. But you’re a woman with a mission. You’re not back in town to take in the sights and reminisce. On the contrary, you’re here for one thing and one thing only. If only you can drum up the courage to speak to Jake again. You drive through town twice in your discomfiture before finally taking the long drive home. It feels like it takes hours and minutes all at once. God, you hope Jake still lives in the same house. You don't know what you'll do if he isn't there. You’re not exactly equipped for a manhunt here.

You must be in luck for the first time in the past few days, because when you pull into the driveway of the house you used to call home, the same old truck is in the driveway. More than the truck though, the entire house seems to be just like it was the day you left. There's a little more ivy covering the sunny yellow siding, but it all looks exactly the same. The birds are making a riot as you sit in your soft-top rental convertible and take stock of the situation. How does coming back to the same place automatically make you feel like the same person you were before you left?

You carefully pull the engagement ring off of your finger and stick it in your purse before double and triple checking that all three copies of the divorce agreement are in your purse where you left them. With a fortifying breath, you step out of your rental and walk towards the front porch. The first change you see is the seaplane waiting down by the dock. When did Jake buy that old plane? Then there’s the sweet dog sitting on the porch. Bear looks just like he did when he was a puppy. But he doesn't seem to remember you, instead he barks at the sight of you. Either Bear doesn't remember you, or far more likely, his daddy brainwashed him into believing you're the enemy. But you can't go back, not now, so you walk carefully towards the porch.

As you reach the bottom of the stairs, the old screen door bangs open. It's Jake, wearing a pair of old wranglers sitting low on his hips and a worn sage green t-shirt so tight and worn that it looks like it's been molded to fit his torso. His golden hair is sticking up in greasy tufts. There's grease all over his face and an engine part in his big hands. He looks good, you note dimly, your mouth dry and mind racing.

"Shut up, puppy." He still sounds damn good, too.

"I'm sorry about him. He's a barky little thing but he's mostly harmless. What can I do for you?" He doesn't recognize you. Not one bit. His green eyes are flirtatious as they scan your form. Who'd guess that an off the shoulder top, a pencil skirt, a pair of heels, and some sunglasses were enough to camouflage you from the man who at one point knew you better than you knew yourself?

"I'd like," you tug the sunglasses off of your face and cross your arms over your chest, "for you to get your smart ass down here and give me a divorce!"

The smirk drops off of his face incredibly quickly, soon joined by the engine part clanking to the deck below. The sound is so startling and loud that it has the dog loping towards you and has you taking a few steps back.

"I mean it, Jake. I have a flight to catch. It's not going to take long. There are three copies, all equipped with idiot-proof tabs. One for me, one for you, and one for my lawyer." You hold them out to show him.

He just stands there in disbelief.

'Will you just speak already?" Your voice is a barely suppressed growl. But instead of Jake talking, you get a bark from the dog, and he doesn't seem to want to stop the racket, either.

"Why do you think I'm going to do that? After seven years, you think you can march up here and demand a divorce? No asking me how I am, how my mama is? None of that? I mean, come on, Linley. I at least thought you'd tell me I look good."

See this? This is why you left. "You want me to tell you, you look good?! What, did Pigeon Creek run out of soap or something?" You're starting to see red. Jake has always been so flippant.

"Do they laugh when you say those things wherever you've been?" He looks angry and sad. You are too. You have been for longer than you remember how it feels to be happy - truly, completely incandescently happy.

"You knew where I was. It was on every envelope that I had my lawyer send you, a lawyer I spend $350 dollars an hour on. You know, the envelopes with our divorce papers that you've sent back unopened three times?" This is why you left. Jake always drives you to distraction.

But you can't even think. The dog's barking is disrupting every thought. Without thinking, you're snapping, "Oh will you just shut up, Bear!"

At the same time, Jake's snapping, "Give it a rest Bryant."

Bryant? What happened to Bear? The sweet puppy you raised with your own two hands? The one you asked to protect his daddy before you left? Did Jake really fall to such lows that he even got rid of the dog you'd once had together?

"Bryant? What happened to Bear?" Your voice must show your sorrow at not seeing him, because Jake's expression softens momentarily.

"He passed away." Then it hardens again in an instant. "You weren't here." That set expression on his face seems to be his newest tactic for dealing with you.

"Have you even been to see your dad since you got back to Pigeon Creek? Does he know you're here? Cause I'm not signing a single thing until you go see your daddy and let him know you're in town. So go on, now. Get in that Yankee excuse for a car and go see your daddy, Linley." His condescending tone is what sets you finally, officially off. You're screaming as Jake stomps up the stairs and shuts the screen door in front of your face.

You haven’t heard this particular rage in your voice in years as you shriek, "Jake! Jake! You stubborn, dumb, ridiculous, redneck hick! You won't sign because I asked you to!"

"I'm not signing because you moved away and turned into a hoity toity yankee bitch! And it pisses you off!" The rattle of the front door latching sends rage bursting even further through your veins. You can't go back to New York without these papers signed. Of course, just as you lose sight of Jake through the front windows, you remember the front door key you'd hidden when you and Jake had bought the place.

It's all too satisfying to see Jake jump, beer sloshing out of the bottle in his hand when you say, "Hey, genius! Next time you lock somebody out, make sure they don't know where the spare key is."

"Well you see, here's the thing about spare keys. It would be nice if your wife told you where it was!" You really can't believe what you're hearing.

"Jake. You and I both know that I'm not really your wife. I'm just the first girl who hopped into the back of your truck."

His face drops when you say those words, in a way that you don't understand.

"Well, allow me to remind you!" You're left watching in shock as Jake unplugs the phone from the wall and rushes into another room. When you hear the lock click, you know something you aren't going to like is going to happen.

Meanwhile, in New York:

Carole Bradshaw knows three things, as a fact. One, Bradshaws are made to be in office. Two, that Linley Floyd girl is bad news. Three, in politics, you can't have any secrets. So the day after she finds out her son asked his girlfriend to marry him, she goes on a digging expedition. Or well, she has her Chief of Staff, one Beau Simpson, commonly known as Cyclone, go on a digging expedition.

"We can't find any record of a Pete Floyd anywhere in Greeneville, Alabama, ma'am." Like a dog after a bone, Carole immediately knows she's on the right track

"What about her high school? They have to have some record of her, right?" God bless Cyclone for picking up exactly what she's putting down.

"I've checked that already, your honor. There is no record of Linley Floyd at Greeneville High School. Before you ask, there are no other records of her for the other schools in the Greeneville area either. I’ve checked every school, public and private within a two mile radius of the city limits."

"He does this kind of thing to make me suffer, doesn't he? I wish I knew what the hell that boy was thinking about when he asked to marry her! Whatever happened with that, that…" Carole snaps her fingers, and Cyclone, as always, fills in.

"Callie Bassett, ma'am?"

"Yes!" Carole's triumphant. "Her! She would've been perfect for him! She's rich, from a political family and she's from California! Can you imagine what the polling numbers would be like if he married a Bassett? California would be a clincher in an election! All of those electoral votes!"

"Maybe she really loves him, Your Honor?" Carole's laughter when she hears those words is nearly a cackle.

"Not a chance in hell. Now find me any information you can get on Linley Floyd. Yesterday! I'm going to call my son."

Across town, Bradley Bradshaw's at a ground breaking ceremony for a new children's hospital when his phone rings.

“Something wicked, this way comes,” he mouths, just as he picks up the phone.

"Hey, Mom. You sound like you feel better." He's lying - his mom still sounds annoyed.

"Why yes, Bradley. Of course, I'm alright. It was just a little bit of a shock. And my polling numbers went up by two points! Guess they like the reminder that I’m a mom. Say, have you and Linley decided on a date yet?" Bradley can't hide the grimace on his face at the thought of what would happen if he answers wrong. It'd make his mom really happy, but Linley? She'd murder him for not discussing it with him, first.

"We haven't decided yet, mom." Bradley signs another couple of autographs as his mom prattles on about how his polling numbers would be better if there were no skeletons in Linley's closet and how that would be better for his political career. His hums and haws work for only a little bit before she's changing the subject back to Linley and her family again.

"Alright, well do you happen to have the Floydses number in Greeneville? I thought I should introduce myself." She's up to something. After a lifetime of her and her controlling schemes, Bradley knows that much.

"Mom, I'd kind of like to meet her parents myself, first." His mom's chuckle makes him groan, even as she reminds him yet again, "If there are any skeletons in her closet, we need to know, Bradley!"

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

Taglist:

@sarahsmi13s @atarmychick007 @the-romanian-is-bae @lt-spork @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814 @praline357 @seitmai @cheyrenee @trickphotography2 @abaker74 @marrianena-library @angelbabyange @temptest13 @kmc1989 @im-an-adult-ish @chaoticassidy @inkandarsenic @lynnevanss @shanimallina87 @khaylin27 @mizzzpink @emma8895eb @hookslove1592 @desert-fern @horseshoegirl @thedroneranger @roosterforme @dakotakazansky @cherrycola27 @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #sweet home alabama #a top gun au #star's sweet home alabama top gun au #jake hangman seresin x oc #hangman x oc #jake seresin x oc #bradley bradshaw x oc #rooster x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw x oc

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dollarbin · 2 months ago

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Shakey Sundays #35:

Hitchhiker (plus A Snapshot in Time)

Six months is a century in Shakeytown.

These days Neil will summon the Stop Shopping Choir for a whistle stop tour, release 4-5 new Archive records, reroute 6 barns worth of toy trains, publish a Greenville zine or two, respond to 4,672 fan emails on his forever Beta-version website, each in 7 words or less and each response featuring the words "peace," "love" and "Al Gore", write 36 new songs, all of them with the working title Love Earth (Or Else), and publish yet another memoir, this one dedicated to his penchant for hip hop, all in a six month window.

Case in point: Archives 3 is about ten minutes old and he's already promoting a forthcoming and utterly unrelated live record from his first tour with Cranky, Silly, and Gnash. Apparently Joni was at the show, gnashing her own teeth in anguish while Graham "Honey Baked" Hash debuted Our House; by the end of the show Mitchell surely instructed Grahamcracker to retitle his song My House (Cuz Joni Just Slipped Out The Back, Jack). Nash, apparently, refused to make the change.

All of Neil's productivity is cool; it's a great time to be a Shakey fan. But these days he lives beside a Colorado lake with Daryl, her dogs, 64 of his cars and the grinning ghosts of David Briggs and Ben Keith; 48 years ago he lived utterly alone in a psychedelic tepee of his very own design.

After all, just try and get your mind around all he accomplished between August 76 and March 77:

He got high as a kite and recorded the primary subject of this week's post in a single night.

He wrote an entirely different record (this week's secondary subject) and taught it to Nicolette Larson and Linda Ronstadt in one sitting.

He recorded 1/2 of that second album with a full band, eventually releasing it as the Side A of American Stars and Bars.

He wrote the highlight of that album - Will To Love, which is arguably the single greatest song of his entire career - and then spent another single night in the studio layering up instruments for it in front of his signature crackling fire - and he has not played the track again a single time since in any setting of any kind, ever. Guess he's had too much else to do.

He released a mixed-at-best record he'd made in the previous six months with Stephen Stills and Joe Freakin' Lala.

He began a full tour with those dopes, playing a month's worth of shows before making new plans Stan and telling them in writing to eat a peach and finish up without him.

He played a full US tour with Crazy Horse instead.

He performed at The Last Waltz.

He found the time to do a lot of cocaine, which is apparently obvious in Scorsese's footage. I've never been able to see the rock in question, however. My working knowledge of Belushidust is clearly negligible.

He continued to write songs about his recent breakup with Carrie Snodgress while starting to romance both the aforementioned Larson and his future beleaguered wife, Pegi. (Plus he surely probably slept with countless other women in this period; Neil was quoted at the time as "really enjoying the bachelor life," which sounds even sleazier than the reality television show of that moniker, which, by the way, should totally feature Neil in its next Golden iteration; after all, he's already demonstrated that he is perfectly willing to ditch his current wife so as to play the field.) Okay, that was just mean. Sorry Neil!

And, right around the moment those six months were up, Young joined yet another band - The Ducks - which was entirely unrelated to all the other bands listed above, and began the process of learning 20+ of their songs.

Plus he chewed a whole lot of Bubblicous and guzzled a whole lot of Natty Light throughout it all.

Yeah, he did all that - except #12: fooled you there! Both delectable items were introduced in the following six months, during which time Young, you guessed it, recorded yet another album of unrelated songs with entirely new musicians.

So, I gotta ask: what the hell did you accomplish between the late summer of 76 and the Spring of 77? I'll bet you can't compete with me or Neil. After all, I crapped my diaper, repeatedly. My mother reports that I "looked just like a frog." I'll bet your lazy ass wasn't even born yet.

Anyway, I stand before you on this very Shakey Sunday prepared to argue that the greatest thing Neil did in that incredibly crammed six months, except for Will To Love, is Hitchiker, the done-in-a-single-altered-night acoustic record which he waited a mere 40 years to release rather than waiting the full 48 so as to include it on Archives 3.

Let's drop the needle already and talk about Hitchhiker's shimmering greatness.

First of all, the whole thing is a poetic work of art. I'm serious. Pocahontas and Powderfinger set the table: both are dreamscape anthems, chock full of heartbreak, guns and waterfowl. And Campaigner may well be Neil's lyrical high-water mark. When roads stretch out like healthy veins and wild gift horses strain the rains I kinda freak out.

Note the previously edited out second verse featured on Hitchhiker: you know a song is lyrically exceptional when a line like "traffic cops are all color blind and people steal from their own kind" submits to the editor's ax.

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Plus, beauty has rarely been draped in such stark and hopeless wonder. Indeed, the only record I can think of with a tone to match Hitchhiker is Pink Moon - and what higher praise can you think of than comparing anything to Nick Drake's unadorned-by-anything-or-anyone-else Pink Moon? Neil and Nick had both had it, at least for the moment, with arranging records. So instead they just took the Plastic Ono Band approach and upped Lennon's ante by laying all the songs down in a single take, every last bit of their armor set aside so as to reveal their very souls.

Just compare Give Me Strength and Which Will. Hear two men who could not have been more fundamentally different both asking the kind of fundamental and elemental questions which males are still instructed to avoid out of false courage and idiocy.

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Yeah, I know: Neil's song coulda' used one more take as he loses track of the chord structure and melody altogether for parts of the closing. But I still say my comparison is apt even if Shakey and Drake couldn't be further apart on the sobriety and perfectionist spectrums.

Hitchhiker's tone could not be more different than its newly surfaced companion, the here, let-me-show-you-how-our-record-is-gonna-sound session Neil concocted for Linda and Nicolette six months later and which Neil has titled A Snapshot In Time for Archives 3. Snapshot replaces the earlier record's stark and trembling poetics with a big dose of what Ronstadt instantly recognizes on tape as "obnoxiousness."

On the one hand you have the songs Linda was directly referring to: check out, if you can get your hands on it (Neil seems to be clutching many of the tracks from Archives 3 in his self-appointed greedy hands rather than posting them for free on the internet) Young posing as a randy, grinning and stumbling creeper in Saddle Up the Palomino.

Here's the eventual band track.

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Neil's mood had clearly shifted a great deal in the intervening six months. Lines like, "it's a cold bowl of chili when life lets you down but to it's the neighbor's wife I'm after" would have had no place whatsoever on Hitchhiker. Nor would the song's attempt at an arena rock riff.

On the other hand, even Snapshot's non-boneheaded songs are a bit obnoxious. Imagine inviting Linda Ronstadt over and then asking her to sing along with lyrics like "hey babe, say your mine all mine" over and over again. She'll do it - if you're Neil Young. But don't fool yourself; she'd rather have been taught Give Me Stength.

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Look: I love every moment of A Snapshot in Time, not to mention the first half of the classic record it spawned. But it sure ain't high art.

Hitchhiker though? It'd take me a solid six months just to shout all its transcendent praises.

#neil young #shakey sundays #stephen stills sucks #nick drake #linda ronstadt #nicolette larson #Youtube

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all-things-normaler · 1 year ago

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ok now give us YOUR Normaler headcanons

Haha! Now this sounds threatening... Let's see. I'm going to try and mention headcanons I haven't said before.

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1. I definitely believe that after the events of the movie, somehow Norma and The Onceler reunited and gave each other another chance. Even if there's the slimmest chance of not working it out, they have to be around each other a lot, mostly for the well-being of Ted!

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2. Now, back to the "past". I think Normaler is a lot like the main couple of Hairspray. Conventionally attractive skinny guy x adorable chubby girl! Norma has a lot of self-issues around her figure, and sometimes doesn't believe it when The Onceler says that he loves her the way she is, but when the anxiety stops spiking up... Norma finds it so refreshing and even soothing to find a guy like The Onceler to like her more than just her appearance.

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3. Norma constantly makes fun of The Onceler's country mannerisms. His speech, habits, etc. But it's not to mock him! She actually finds it adorable. She would often compare him to the attractive protagonists of country movies and say he's better.

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4. Norma has horrible reflexes, and by horrible I mean, amazing ones. One time The Onceler tried to playfully scare her and all he received in return was a punch in the face. Of course, she apologized after, but The Onceler essentially blamed himself for causing this event.

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5. Height difference comes with its perks and disadvantages. Norma once tried tickling The Onceler and it ended up wrong. His elbow hit her in the face. (I guess they're hand in hand now!) Seeing her tear up out of pain was too horrible. It's like stepping on your puppy's paw! He's never forgave himself for that.

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6. The Onceler is a playful asshole, so he often saw Norma struggling to reach something and instead of helping at first, he instead makes it go higher.

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7. Norma has the pants in the relationship, but this is common knowledge at this point, right? When Norma gets mad, it's like the whole planet is shaking and the ground is breaking. You do NOT want to make this woman mad. Even Onceler in his Greedler era was cautious and did his best to hide the mess he's done.

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8. Onceler loved to spoil Norma so much, and it's usually through food and serenades. When he turned rich, this translated through all sorts of items... clothes, perfumes, etc.

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9. One of Norma's biggest dreams was to travel the world, and The Onceler was once a traveler before arriving to Greenville, so they share that passion. They promised themselves to travel the world, especially after marriage, but that never became a thing after the events of the movie happened and Onceler isolated himself. Even without him, Norma never got to accomplish this, because then the wall around now-called "Thneedville" became a thing. Hopefully once they reunite as cute grandparents they get to fulfill that dream!

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10. Older Normaler are passionate more than ever about nature, and with the help of Audrey and Ted, they start this project about making a greenhouse! All sorts of flowers, fruits and vegetables are in there! Sometimes The Lorax visits.

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11. Norma likes to nickname The Onceler a lot... And it's not Oncie! From the classic "Once" we go to "cowboy" "country-boy" "rockstar", "daddy long-legs" and so on.

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12. Both of these idiots are incredibly strong. We've seen The Onceler in the movie, and a bit of Norma in her old age! Onceler used to underestimate Norma's strength due to her size (reasonable) but she constantly proves him wrong by tackling him to the ground and winning arm wrestlings with him always.

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13. The Onceler absolutely adores Norma's beauty mark.

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14. The Onceler has this habit of humming everything even without music, especially when concentrated and Norma thinks it's the sweetest thing.

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15. Piggybacks. Always. It started as a friendly request of Norma so she could reach for truffula fruit in the valley, but it ended up being more fun than expected.

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16. She's a dancer at heart. He's a musician, what's there more to say? Helen's actual love for disco is tied to them, and Helen used to attend a lot of roller disco events! Ted's skateboard skills and bike skills come from her... (Norma and Helen) And I like to think Ted is a bit of a tech/inventor genius, and that certainly comes from The Onceler.

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17. The Onceler has enough strength on his arm to make Norma casually hold herself with her legs and go down like a possum.

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18. I like to think that their attraction was accidental and that the tension just built up out of the fact they're very sarcastic, witty and awkward individuals.

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19. In any sort of ground that Norma can skate in, that's her main way of transportation around The Onceler to actually share the same speed! Those long legs are too fast! And Onceler, always, is so enamored of the way she gracefully swirls and moves.

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20. The Onceler at first had a really rough time with his money and food. So Norma a lot of times actually snuck out food out of the diner she worked at and had lunch and breakfast with him together. If she had extra money to actually buy something for herself (most money was to pay the bills and help her mother) she'd use it instead to buy cans and food for The Onceler. Seeing his happiness and well-being was the best she could've had at the moment. Momentarily, eventually The Onceler told her to stop doing this out of guilt of what he knew of her situation at home! Plus, the thneed business was going to soon boom in.

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21. The Onceler doesn't hate bell-bottoms for no reason. He had to witness Norma using them because they were all in and she tripped while rollerskating, and the results weren't pretty. Before that, he even considered wearing them, but then it turned into somewhat a very irrational hatred.

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22. And lastly... And this is more to finish this post in a nice number, I love to think THE song for these two is "Lovefool" by The Cardigans and "Wannabe" by Spice Girls.

#ask #the onceler #norma wiggins #normaler #headcanonsnormaler #norma x onceler

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twwpress · 2 years ago

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Weekly Press Briefing #33: February 5th - February 11th

Welcome back to the Weekly Press Briefing, where we bring you highlights from The West Wing fandom each week, including new fics, ongoing challenges, and more! This briefing covers all things posted from February 5 - February 11, 2023! Did we miss something? Let us know; you can find our contact info at the bottom of this briefing!

Challenges/Prompts:

The following is a roundup of open challenges/prompts. Do you have a challenge or event you’d like us to promote? Be sure to get in touch with us! Contact info is at the bottom of this briefing.

@thefinestmuffin and @JessBakesCakes are hosting a casual Josh/Donna Rom Com Fest that will reveal on February 14. Prompts and claims are open; details here.

Photos/Videos:

Here’s what was posted from February 5 - February 11.

Janel Moloney posted a video of a monster truck rally she went to with her kids.

Josh Malina posted a behind-the-scenes photo from the set of Scandal.

Josh Malina posted a screenshot of a montage of photos his phone made for him.

Rob Lowe posted a behind-the-scenes photo of himself on the set of 911 Lonestar with his dog, Daisy.

Richard Schiff posted a photo on the set of Ballers with Steven Weber, Dwayne Johnson, and Rob Corddry.

Rob Lowe posted a photo of himself as the Grand Marshal of NASCAR’s Busch Light Clash.

Edits/Artwork:

silly little political show by schiff0rd [VIDEO EDIT]

Miscellaneous:

Happy birthday to Mary McCormack!

This Week in Canon:

Welcome to This Week in Canon, where we revisit moments in The West Wing that occurred on these dates during the show’s run.

Season 1, Episode 14: Take This Sabbath Day aired on February 9, 2000.

Season 2, Episode 13: Bartlet’s Third State of the Union aired on February 7, 2001.

Season 3, Episode 13: Night Five aired on February 6, 2002.

Season 4, Episode 14: Inauguration: Part 1 aired on February 5, 2003.

Season 5, Episode 13: The Warfare of Genghis Khan aired on February 11, 2004.

Season 6, Episode 14: The Wake Up Call aired on February 9, 2005.

Editor’s Choice:

We’ve rounded up some of our favorite Valentine’s Day fics! We know we missed a lot of good ones, so please feel free to reblog or QRT with your own V Day recs!!

Getting It Right by spinninginfinity | Rated M | Josh Lyman/Donna Moss | Complete | When you're running the free world, Valentine's Day can be tricky to pull off.

The first Valentine’s Day she and Josh are together, Donna cooks dinner.

love brings you flowers (then it buys you coffins) by hufflepuffhermione | Rated T | Josh Lyman/Donna Moss | Complete | She locks eyes with him and smiles slightly, hoping that he knows what she’s about to say is entirely a joke. “Come to think of it, you didn’t buy me roses either.”

His face pales. The flush of the wine and the candlelight disappears almost instantly, leaving behind a ghost who is only translucently Josh Lyman. She’s seen Josh distressed before. She’s seen him half-dead, she’s seen him in the worst throes of grief and pain, and yet even in those instances where his life changed forever, she isn’t sure she’s ever seen his expression change that fast.

Donna and Josh have their first Valentine's Day together, and Donna finds out what happened the last time Josh bought her roses.

Fleur de Destin by sarabrowncolorado [archived by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist] | Rated M | Josh Lyman/Donna Moss | Complete | Flower shop AU

Conversation Hearts by JessBakesCakes | Rated G | Josh Lyman/Donna Moss | Complete | Josh looks around the small diner they’ve found themselves in somewhere just outside of Greenville, South Carolina, taking in the fading red and pink decor that’s been haphazardly tacked and taped to the walls and windows. Admittedly, he’d forgotten about Valentine’s Day - they all had other priorities these days.

Or, Bartlet for America era Josh/Donna on Valentine's Day.

flowers and chocolates by iwasfollowingyou | Not Rated | Josh Lyman/Sam Seaborn | Complete | josh has a secret admirer. donna enjoys it immensely.

Spoken and Unspoken by amandasarmada | Rated E | Danny Concannon/C.J. Cregg | Complete | C.J. and Danny spend Valentine's Day together - well, sort of. Last chapter is E.

must have been that something lovers call fate by crossingdelancey | Rated T | C. J. Cregg/Toby Ziegler | Complete | They’ve been living together for all of three years now. She never thought living with her ex would be an easy feat, but he managed to prove her wrong. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t still a little nutty about him, but that ship has very much sailed. She’s been making her way through the men of New York, and a handful of women, too, but measuring up to Toby Ziegler is a mammoth task.

—

in which cj is stood up on valentines day, and toby steps in

All That I Love by AndAllThatMishigas | Rated G | Abbey Bartlet/Jed Bartlet | Complete | Valentine's Day for the Bartlets is never typical with three children and two very busy careers.

Fics:

Presenting your weekly roundup of fics posted in the tag for The West Wing on Archive of Our Own. If you are so inclined, please be sure to leave the authors some love in the form of kudos or comments. Be mindful of posted warnings/tags for each story.

Josh/Donna

say my name and everything just stops by flowersinapril | Rated M | Josh Lyman/Donna Moss | In Progress

your love was home by jimhopper | Rated E | Josh Lyman/Donna Moss | In Progress

Chess Variations by jenks | Rated G | Josh Lyman/Donna Moss | Complete

two bodies (riddled with scars) by payback16 | Rated M | Josh Lyman/Donna Moss | Complete

we finally got it all right by mikaylawrites | Rated T | Josh Lyman/Donna Moss | In Progress

The War at Heart by WitchyPrentiss | Rated G | Josh Lyman/Donna Moss | Complete

Jed/Leo

May 2003 by yourlocalrandombisexual | Rated E | Jed Bartlet/Leo McGarry | In progress

The President’s Dead by yourlocalrandombisexual | Rated T | Jed Bartlet/Leo McGarry | Complete

Take Me Instead by yourlocalrandombisexual | Rated T | Jed Bartlet/Leo McGarry | Complete

What Tension?! By yourlocalrandombisexual | Rated E | Jed Bartlet/Leo McGarry | Complete

Other Pairings/Gen Fic

compel me to ask you for more by jazzjo | Rated G | Andrea Wyatt/Toby Ziegler | In Progress

it started off with a kiss... now it ended up like this by imawkwardlysoc | Rated G | Sam Seaborn/Original Female Character | In Progress

Writing Day by Mabis | Rated G | Josh Lyman/Sam Seaborn | In Progress

A Different Life by PreppyPrincess5103 (JAG crossover) | Rated M | Sarah "Mac" MacKenzie/Sam Seaborn | In progress

Through stranger’s eyes by Michelangelo_sky | Rated G | Ellie Bartlet, Josh Lyman (No pairings listed) | Complete

Wait For Me by imperfectirises | Rated M | Abbey Bartlet/Jed Bartlet | In Progress

Where The Hell…? by dumbchemist | Rated T | No pairings listed | In Progress

Late Night Call by Jxjxjx | Rated G | Danny Concannon/C.J. Cregg | Complete

Adorable, Yet Ill Adored by HotchkissRoyale | Rated E | Ainsley Hayes/Sam Seaborn | In progress

Multiple Pairings

Paradise City by casliyn | Rated E | Josh Lyman/Donna Moss, Amy Gardner/Josh Lyman | In Progress

There are no second acts in American lives (except when there are) by norahb | Rated T | Josh Lyman/Original Female Character, Josh Lyman/Donna Moss, Sam Seaborn/Original Male Character(s) | In Progress

Midnights by park_all_covered_with_cheese | Rated G | Abbey Bartlet/Jed Bartlet, Josh Lyman/Sam Seaborn | In Progress

THE WEEKLY PRESS BRIEFING TEAM CAN BE REACHED VIA THE FOLLOWING METHODS:

Twitter: @TWWPress

Email: [email protected]

Feel free to let us know if we missed something, if you have an event you’d like us to promote, or if you have an item that you’d like included in the next briefing!

xx, What’s next?

#the west wing #west wing #tww #tww fandom #tww fic #tww fic recs #josh lyman #donna moss #cj cregg #jed bartlet #leo mcgarry #josh x donna #cj x toby #cj x danny #sam x josh #jed x leo #tww rare pairs #toby ziegler #sam seaborn

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brokenmusicboxwolfe · 2 years ago

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I’m still not sure I should have gone to the Herring Festival.

I mean, I know why I always do it. The town has less than 500 people and this is our only event of the year. Since I am so financially trapped here, this was my one time for human interaction type fun until the Greenville Comic Con in August (assuming I can afford it by then). I’d have regretted not going. Dang, though, it has left me feeling so depressed!

It’s a lonely thing when you are on your own. I watched the parade from the front yard, and someone actually stopped, holding up the parade, to ask about Mom. That’s nice, but that was the only reason people wanted to talk to me. I walked up and down the street selling tacky junk, fried food, rides on creepy rickety carnival rides**, and a stage playing country rock and gospel (and the national anthem at least three times, complete with uniformed soldiers). And folks would say “How’s your Mom?” but that would be that for conversation.

Let me just say, I hate that thing where you are talking to someone, and when someone else shows up they just start talking to the other person, ignoring you totally. You are dismissed now that the important person is there. Well, at least royalty would have decency to say “You are dismissed”. These folks just turn away while you are mid sentence and never look at you again. It happened so much today I got so I dreaded it every time I spoke to someone. I finally reached the point I’d sort of sigh and expect it.

I’m not one of them. We all know it. I’ve lived here all my life, but I’m not related to them and I don’t go to any of their churches. I’m not part of any of their clans. Friendly but not friends, I always call it.

I did get to talk to two people. One was a woman selling sea glass jewelry. She wasn’t from around here, and was only there as a favor to someone. The other was my neighbor, but as his parents live in Massachusetts he’s lucky he and his wife didn’t move here a few decades ago. The neighbors never let Pop forget he was from “Mass– a— TWOOOOO-sets”. They both told me so much about themselves that it was rather astonishing. I can talk to people that aren’t from around here.

That said, both of them for in better than me. Heck, when I told my neighbor how I hated feeling trapped here, missing getting to go places, he laughed and said I’d get used to it and told me how nice the place was. People around here are always baffled, and sometimes even offended, by me saying I’m NOT here because I love the town. it’s the greatest place in the world, they say.

Yeah, if you can belong. Right religion, right politics, right interests….

Speaking of religion, funny how they make it infuse everything. A stand for a women’s hunting organization had biblical quotes posted. Everything is religion here.

That sure didn’t help me feel I belong. Not a Christian, and if they knew I was agnostic it would probably cause a fuss. I’d be the first to be burned at the stake if they ever get riled enough.

So alone, and too poor to buy anything, I came back to the house. On a whim, I wanted to open my dressing table drawer and go through my old treasures. Unfortunately the drawer was broken, the bottom having come lose from the rest. I spent an hour crawling around trying to get it open from underneath, when in the gap created at the front of the drawer something fell out….

$20!!!!

I know I should have saved it, but it felt like a gift from my past self, the one with family and friends and dreams. She would want me to have some fun.

I took the money back down the street and bought a cheap little bracelet from the woman selling sea glass jewelry and a funnel cake (bagged against the crazy winds). I may not be able to buy friends to hang out with but I can buy a silly piece of jewelry I will never have much opportunity to wear and something that’s all deep fried and sugar dusted. It made the day feel less hollow (and my stomach too full).

But generally, I feel so damned lonely around people. Not in cities where I don’t know anyone, but my local community where I feel like I am SUPPOSED to belong.

Two hours from now the fireworks start. (Doesn’t seem wise with the wind!) I’ll sit on the Burras House porch alone, oohing and ahhing and taking bad photos. I’d rather have company, but I guess fireworks alone is better than no foreworks.

**Disney would have a field day with the giant banners with badly drawn versions of Marvel characters they had at the rides!

#my day #nc herring festival #loneliness #rural living #small town life

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jessiedunmire · 2 months ago

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pokemonartextreme · 2 months ago

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The Adventures of Faith the Eevee - Episode 2

Season 1, Episode 2: The Big Move-In!

September 14th dawned bright and clear in Greenville, South Carolina. The sun streamed through the window of Faith’s new apartment bedroom at Edgemont Apartments, casting a warm glow on the freshly unpacked boxes and the cheerful clutter of a new home.

Faith, a vibrant spirit with a passion for adventures, stood in her bedroom, hands on her hips, taking in her new surroundings. The room was filled with the buzz of excitement and the promise of new beginnings. Her F.L.A.R.E.S. team—comprised of dedicated friends and allies—was there to help her get settled. Maurice LaMarche and Rob Paulsen, guests who had become fast friends, were also present. Rob, as Pinky, and Maurice, as The Brain, added an extra touch of whimsy to the already lively scene.

“Well, this is our new home,” Faith declared, her voice filled with enthusiasm. “We’re going onward and upward, like the title of the first episode of Adult Party Cartoon, starring Ren and Stimpy... which Mom never lets me watch, by the way.”

Maurice, channeling The Brain’s deep, thoughtful tone, replied, “Indeed, Faith. It’s a new chapter, ripe with possibilities. We shall conquer the challenges of moving with strategic precision!”

Rob, in his Pinky voice, chimed in with his usual cheery demeanor, “Narf! And we’ll have loads of fun doing it, right, Faith? Like when we infiltrate the new apartment!”

Just then, Sharon, Faith’s mom, popped her head into the room. “Hi, Faith. Your brother Drew and I are heading upstairs to see Nani. You’ll be with F.L.A.R.E.S.”

Faith’s smile widened. “Thanks, Mom. I’m glad you only take one of us to Nani’s. I think that was a great decision.”

Sharon’s eyes softened with affection. “Thank you, Noodles. We’ll see you later. Remember to get unpacked and settled in.”

“I will,” Faith promised. “I’m also glad you let me keep my cat costume for Halloween — it’s next month! I’ve been waiting to wear it since November 1st last Fall.”

Sharon chuckled and nodded before heading out with Drew. The door closed behind them, and Faith turned her attention back to her new room. As she started unpacking her belongings, she heard a familiar voice from the hallway.

“Hi, Sara!” Faith greeted warmly as her friend Sara entered the room.

Sara beamed at Faith and took in the vibrant new setting. “Hey, Faith! This place is awesome. I can’t wait to see how it looks when you’re all done decorating!”

____________________________________________________________

As Faith was busy putting her things together, her attention was suddenly drawn by a sweet, familiar sound—a soft, adorable meow. She turned to find Maurice LaMarche holding a cat carrier.

“Faith, Pinky,” Maurice said with a smile, “this is my cat, Leonardo, or Leo for short. He’s a longhair.”

Faith’s eyes lit up with excitement. “So, he’s like a tabby? Ooh, I wanna pet the kitty!” She playfully mimicked Yakko Warner’s signature move, followed by a cheerful “Goodnight, everybody!”

Rob, in his Pinky voice, added, “Narf! We should definitely add another cat adult joke to Animaniacs. People love the adult jokes!”

Faith approached Leo, who was now lounging comfortably on her cat costume, stretching out in a way that made her chuckle. “Hey, Leo. I need that costume for October, so don’t stretch it out too much!”

Sara, watching the interaction with a smile, said, “I’m glad you still have the costume, Faith. It looks like you’re already getting settled in!”

Faith nodded, her excitement palpable. “Yeah, I’m really happy about it. Maurice, get this. When I was carving pumpkins last Halloween with Sara, mine rotted because of the lack of moisture. I’m planning to carve pumpkins again this time with a pumpkin that’s nice and moist!”

Sara laughed, “That’s a great idea! You’ll have the best pumpkins on the block.”

Faith continued, “Oh, and my mom is going to make my new bed this weekend. She’s really good with stuff like that. It’s going to be awesome!”

#pokemon eevee #maurice lamarche #rob paulsen

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mitchbeck · 3 months ago

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#AHL #AmericanHockeyLeague #BobbyRussell #BonSecoursWellnessArena #ECHL #GreenvilleSwampRabbits

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dankusner · 7 months ago

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Daniel Kusner visits Thanks-Giving Square at noon while listening to St. Vincent’s “ New York ,” admiring how perfectly the song blends with the bells above the Ring of Truth.

St. Vincent would rather be in Dallas

Annie Clark — a.k.a. singer-guitarist St. Vincent — has lived in L.A. and New York City for most of her adult life.

But she still loves to wax nostalgic about growing up as a music nerd in Lake Highlands, going to rock shows in Deep Ellum and haunting records stores all around Dallas.

“I spent all my allowance at CD World on Greenville, that’s for sure,” she says with a laugh. “I’m in Los Angeles right now, but I wish I were in Dallas is the truth of it.”

Clark’s been coast-hopping lately while “doing press for this bad boy,” as she calls All Born Screaming, her seventh solo album since she debuted in 2007.

The album is out Friday.

One listen and you’ll hear why she yearns for the comfort of her extended Dallas family.

All Born Screaming is the sound of an artist teetering on the edge of chaos as she thinks about life, death and a dozen shades of terror in between.

In Clark’s typically witty fashion, she’s dubbed it “post-plague pop.”

It’s her darkest album yet, but also one of her best, defined as always by her uniquely St. Vincent blend of styles.

She’s an old-school torch singer with an avant-garde heart and a music historian’s brain, inspired by everyone from Billie Holiday to Jimi Hendrix to Nirvana (whose drummer, Dave Grohl, guest-stars on “Broken Man” and “Flea”).

"All Born Screaming" is St. Vincent's darkest album yet, but it also ranks as one of her best, defined by a unique blend of styles.(Nasty Little Man)

Clearly, she didn’t spend all that time at CD World just sifting through the Backstreet Boys bin.

When Clark was 13, the jazz duo Tuck & Patti, who happen to be her uncle and aunt, sat her down and asked her to listen to John Coltrane’s masterpiece A Love Supreme.

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“I started crying,” she told me in ‘07. “Hearing something like that, at that age, was mind-blowing.”

Today, her jazz-minded songs are probably too off-kilter for most Taylor Swift fans.

But against all odds, Clark racked up her first No. 1 pop hit as a songwriter last fall when Swift’s “Cruel Summer” spent a month atop the Billboard charts, four years after Swift first released it.

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Clark co-wrote the tune with Swift and their mutual producer Jack Antonoff.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Clark, 41, says. “It’s a testament to how dedicated Taylor’s fans are. They took a song from a few records back that wasn’t even a single at the time and said ‘No, we love this song. This is the hit.’ And they marched it up the charts by just sheer enthusiasm.”

My conversation with Clark has been edited for clarity:

All your albums have been different, both musically and lyrically. What were you aiming for on All Born Screaming?

I wanted to make something that felt as raw and human as possible. It’s a record that goes from “Life is impossible … ” and then the second half is “but we get to live it and it’s really short, so buckle up and let’s go. We don’t have any time to waste.”

This is the first album you’ve produced totally alone. What were the pros and cons of that?

The pros are that it’s really an exact rendering of the sounds in my head. This is my singular vision. The cons are that it takes a lot longer. It’s a more painful process because it requires a long look in the mirror, which is not always the most comfortable thing to do. There’s nobody else in the room who’s gonna pat you on the head and say, “Great job, let’s move on.” It requires a reckoning with yourself.

There are lots of great retro-sounding synthesizers on the album, played by you and others. What drew you to these old synths?

Analog synthesizers have such a soul to them. You’re moving electricity through unique circuitry, and I know that doesn’t sound necessarily like the sexiest, most human thing, but you’re like a god of lightning. These analog synths are inherently chaotic. It’s like, “I’m gonna take these beasts and find the parts that are the most alive, and manipulate some of that chaos into music.” When you get something that’s really exciting, it’s more of a victory.

Several tunes have an industrial rock feel and recall Nine Inch Nails. I noticed the word “nail” in the lyrics of multiple songs. Have I found your Easter eggs? Or am I reading too much into that?

No! Read however you want to read it. I love Nine Inch Nails. You can put The Downward Spiral next to anything out there today and it will hold up as relevant and exciting. That’s the kind of record I’m ultimately trying to make, stuff you’ll wanna listen to in 30 years and go, “Oh yeah … this is good. It has a level of excellence and craft and refinement and obsessive attention to detail.”

“Violent Times” has a memorable phrase that, in a sense, sums up the whole album for me: “The ashes of Pompeii lovers, discovered in an embrace for all eternity.” When did you first see that image from Pompeii?

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I was in New Zealand and had a day off and that exhibit was going around, so I walked over to the exhibit and was just struck by that image.

“OK, doom is imminent. You can flee, or you can just hold one another one last time.”

And I just thought it was so deeply romantic.

So much of modern existence, and certainly existence on the internet, is designed to commodify our brain space and pit neighbor against neighbor, and it’s just, well, frankly, it’s a drag.

Love is all we have, and I don’t mean that in a “Kumbaya” corny way. I mean, life will bring you to your knees, no matter who you are. And the only thing we really have is the people we love.

A lot of songs on the new album — and throughout your career — have a scary, almost cinematic quality to them. Did you grow up loving horror films or scary books?

No. Not at all. I detest horror and violence and gore. I can’t watch it. But as far as going to musically dark places, I think that’s the miraculous thing about music. To misquote Brian Eno, “Art is the car you can crash over and over again and then walk away safely.” [Music] is the place I get to go to explore my internal violence and my everything — ego, desire, all of it. I’m a child of the ‘90s, in the sense that the anthems of my heroes were “I’m a creep/I’m a loser.” They were exploring the baseness and basement of their psyches, and that’s always resonated with me.

“Big Time Nothing” sounds like a companion piece to 2020′s The Nowhere Inn, your mockumentary-thriller about fame and how it affects an artist’s sanity.

[Songwriting for me] is always like, “OK, tune into the depression and anxiety frequencies in your head, write down those thoughts, and what do they tell you?” I’ve had to learn how to manage and quiet [those frequencies] as I’ve grown. All the songs on this album are very lived experiences, dealing with life and death and love. In records past, I certainly was dealing with the idea of persona and deconstructing persona. And you know, that makes a lot of sense in that I’m queer. I’ve been aware that gender was a performance since I was a child. So of course, playing with characters is … it’s all just, you know, ripe for exploration. On this record, however, I’m just not dealing with character or transformation in the same way. I’ve heard people say, “OK, so Broken Man is your take on toxic masculinity.” I’m like, “No. That’s just how I feel.” Sometimes, it’s not external cultural commentary. It’s, like, life.

Congratulations on your first number one single for co-writing Taylor Swift’s “Cruel Summer.” Hypothetically, how would you handle performing for 60,000 people in football stadiums every night like Swift does?

My brain immediately went to “Oh. I’d really need to spend a lot of money on production.” But that’s the very pragmatic part of me. Um, that would be amazing. I don’t see that necessarily happening and I feel really OK with that. I like to say I have the “free appetizer level” of fame, you know, where occasionally you [meet a restaurant worker] who’s a big fan and you get that shrimp cocktail. But I don’t have an unmanageable level of fame. I can walk down the street anywhere and be fine and not need security. I can just exist in the world in a relatively normal way. The way I got to my level of success was a sort of slow and steady climb up the mountain, without big peaks and valleys.

When we spoke at the start of your career, you said that joining the Polyphonic Spree after struggling to launch your career was “literally redemption in a robe.” What did you learn in your two years with the Spree in the mid-2000s?

I loved it. I had the time of my life. Some of my fondest memories of touring were those early, early days of just not knowing what in the world I was doing, getting up on stage every night and putting on this wild manic show with these exuberant songs. I [learned how to be] a Texas freak, right? And I say “freak” with all the love and admiration in the world. If you’re a Texas freak, you had to earn it. You had to walk through fire. There’s some real grit to the Texas freaks. Like, those are my people, you know?

A few years ago, the news site Central Track posted a bunch of yearbook photos of you from Lake Highlands High School, where you were super active in performing groups. Did you already know back then you wanted a career onstage?

I was very obsessed with theater. I’d go see a lot of local productions at Kitchen Dog Theater and I was a stage manager over at Kitchen Dog. I loved it, but I was really scared to get up onstage with my high school band, or be in a play. But I also knew I had to do it. Even though that performative tension was very, very nerve-wracking, I was compelled to do it. Dallas public education really just lit a fire and a love for theater, you know?

You’ve acted in Portlandia and other places, and you co-wrote The Nowhere Inn. Would you like to do more acting and filmmaking?

I would drop everything if a director I really adored, like Pedro Almodovar, said, “I’m dying to have you in my next film.” I would happily act or be a performer in someone else’s work, depending on the project, because you go in, you do your work and you walk away. A director of a film, like, that’s three years of your life on one thing. I just don’t have the bandwidth to direct a film. But what I do as a musician, for this record, let’s just say, is akin to writing, starring in and directing your own film. Directing? I already do that in music. Directing a film would take me away from things I’m actually good at.

You started playing guitar at 12, before the internet became huge. Do you think the internet and YouTube opened the doors for more diversity among guitarists? Are there more female lead guitarists today than when you began?

There totally are. I see so many young women playing guitar and it’s not treated as some sort of novelty. It’s like, “Yeah, duh! Of course I play guitar.” It’s so cool to see the shift. I mean, I had Riot Grrrl. But for the most part, there weren’t that many female guitar players in the mass culture.

I’m a measured optimist. I don’t believe that everything is getting worse. Certain things in life are definitely worse than they were a hundred years ago, and a lot of things are a whole lot better. We wouldn’t be having this conversation 80 years ago about me having a career as an artist like this. Women didn’t get to do things like this. So I think it’s only getting better in terms of more women playing, more women just feeling empowered and saying, “I’m gonna pick up whatever [instrument] I want to and play.” There’s way less stigma and eyebrow-raising than there was when I started, you know? That’s great. I think that is genuine progress.

#Youtube

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plantbasedmimi3 · 11 months ago

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For the first time in YEARS …I am back in the work force, and I LOVE IT‼️Many of you don’t know that I now work as a Store manager at Sally beauty supply LLC, a leading full-service beauty product distributor.

Recently I retired as a full time hair stylist. Occasionally I do private hair contracts, along with ministry, but as my life and ministry assignment was transitioning I was led to go back to work.

There was a question of whether I should continue building courses for women, teaching online, or doing mentorship. but here’s why I chose none of these and I pray that it helps someone.

PEACE OF MIND‼️‼️‼️

FINANCIAL SECURITY ‼️‼️‼️

Initially when I applied for a part time position, I was just looking for something to get acclimated in the workplace, but after my interview process I was sought after for a management role!!! Not once did I see myself starting a brand new career in management. BUT GOD DID! The Bible says “your gift will make room for you and bring you before great men”.

All I can say is “thank you Lord for more in 2024‼️‼️

Long story short, I’m taking a break from the stress, effort, and hard work it takes to build a coaching business, something that may or may not reap the amount of finances my family need when we need it. ((Hubby and I have a great relationship business that we’ll continue to grow))

This year I want to use my wide variety of proven talents, skills, and gifts that can partner with an EXISTING company that needs my expertise. One where I am able to manage and lead an overall team. But also mentor and coach my staff because of my ministry uniqueness and abilities. Connecting with a great company that yields a great income, benefits, and peace.

So let me ask you, what are you doing for YOU with boldness and without shame. I know so many people who need to go back to work but won’t because of appearance, comfort or fear.

1. Ask yourself what really makes you happy? 2. Why are you not living out your dreams? 3. What are you afraid of?

So anyway fam…If you see me at Sally beauty (Orchard location) in Greenville SC, holla at ya girl. 👋 ♥️

#life #lifelessons #godislove #fyp #my work #jobs #jobsearch #greenville #south carolina #all women are beautiful #beauty #hairtrends #hairstyling #colors #loreal #paul mitchell #keratin

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 10 months ago

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A Lawyer's Lament and Deep South Glass

Chapter Thirteen of Sweet Home Alabama

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd), Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd)

Description: Before you can blink, it's already days before your wedding. When you and Natasha fly back down to Pigeon Creek from New York, you're feeling worse about getting married than you ever thought you would have before. Seeing the advertisements for the company which made the glass you liked should be a nice change of pace. If only you knew what you'd see when you get there.

Meanwhile, in Birmingham, Reuben Fitch is finally seeing the ending to a divorce he's been working on for seven years. If only the bride had signed the papers as easily as the groom had. A trip down to Pigeon Creek sounds like a good idea. Now if only he could find Linley Mitchell there.

Themes: love, attraction, angst, sex, cheating, lying

Warnings: Carole being, Carole. She's a warning in and of herself!

Word Count: 3430

A/N: How are we already at chapter thirteen?! It feels like just yesterday I started writing this series and now it is almost over!

AO3: Cross-posted here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted here!

My Masterlist

Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part

Reuben Fitch’s Office - Birmingham Alabama

Reuben Fitch is a damn good lawyer. He knows what his clients need and gets it for them. But there's one client he's been chasing after for seven years now. Linley Floyd's divorce is special. He's sent papers to her husband over fifteen times. Not once has he signed the papers and sent them over.

So when he walks into his office and sees a manila envelope on his desk with the return address marked at Pigeon Creek, Alabama, he's sure he's dreaming. Please let this be the end of this saga. Please let this be the end of the Mitchell-Seresin divorce.

“Maria?” Reuben's vibrating out of his skin as he yells for his paralegal.

“Can you pull the file for the Mitchell-Seresin divorce please?

“Did you finally get the papers, Mr. Fitch?” She sounds about as excited as he is. This is a big deal.

“Yes, Maria! I did!” He grabs his letter opener, kissing the end of the handle before he slits the envelope open.

There's a letter on the top of the stack.

Here's the papers finally signed, Mr. Fitch. I'm sorry they took so long.

Linley Mitchell

Reuben's heart is racing as he carefully separates the three divorce agreements over his desk. Of course he wants to smack his head, because terribly enough, there's only one set of signatures on each document. He could have sworn Linley Mitchell desperately wanted this divorce.

“I don't have eighteen days, forget eighteen months,” was what she'd said on the phone a week ago. So what the hell is she thinking sending her lawyer three divorce agreements where her husband has signed but she hasn't?! Reuben's getting hot under the collar as he calls her phone. But she doesn't pick up.

He calls her throughout the day, between meetings with other clients, even over lunch. But Linley Mitchell is not picking up the phone. At least he has a return address he can use? But what's the likelihood that Linley will sign the papers? So he does what he's known for. The next day, he takes a few days absence from work and tries to track his client down. First step is to drive to Pigeon Creek.

Pigeon Creek is a small town, picturesque in that deep South way. It’s a town surrounded by farmland, only a few miles away from the outskirts of Greenville. Unsurprisingly, he gets looks as he pulls into town, because he looks like he doesn’t belong. All he needs is for his client to sign the papers in his hand and he’s out of here. Main Street is small and dusty. There are small shops dotted on either side of the main thoroughfare, but surprisingly for a weekday morning, none are open. Only the diner is.

“Yes, sir. Can we help you?” It’s the sheriff, a man by the name of Garcia, who notices Reuben when he walks through the door.

“I’m looking for a Linley Floyd.” There’s something suspicious as the folks in the restaurant look back and forth at each other when he says his client’s nom de plume.

“Anybody here recognize that name?” There’s resounding silence at the Sheriff's question.

“What business do you have with her?” It’s the waitress, wearing a blue shirt, holding a carafe of coffee in one hand and a plate of delicious smelling fry-up in the other who asks that.

“I’m afraid I can’t say, Ma’am.” Reuben pulls out all of his manners, learned in the Carolina’s at his grandmother’s feet. “It’s a private matter.”

“Well, then,” She chuckles a little, holding the plate in front of her like a shield. “I’m afraid we can’t help you!”

So much for the folk of Pigeon Creek, Alabama being open and friendly. It’s as he steps out of the diner, just over the tinkling of the bell, that he hears, “Damned reporters. Like the first ant at a picnic.”

Why the hell didn’t he say he was her lawyer? It’s too late now, and those people aren’t likely to believe him anyway. He’ll just have to track down Linley the old fashioned way. Possibly by looking in a phone book?

Birmingham Airport, that same day

You’re completely exhausted when you get out of the plane at Birmingham Airport. You’ve got Tash with you, and at least one of you is happy. She’s chattering a mile a minute, bouncing on the soles of her patent pumps while you’re wearing a simple skirt and blouse combination with ballet flats on your aching feet. Your wedding dress is in a garment bag in your hands and you nod half-heartedly as Nat chatters on. The word ‘propose’ catches your attention.

“You remember the sheik?” You remember Tash’s fling with her sheik. It ended months ago, and you’re not sure why she’s mentioning him now.

“Yeah.”

“Well, he proposed to me, and I think I loved him, despite his billions.”

Your shock has you asking her the question on the tip of your tongue. “Why didn’t you say anything Tash?”

She shrugs as you walk onto the main concourse surrounded by all your fellow passengers. “Obviously, I didn’t say yes.”

“Why not?” Right now, you’re wondering a lot of things yourself. Chief being why you said yes to Bradley when he asked you to marry him. The love and affection you felt for him when he proposed seems to have dissipated into thin air. It doesn’t help that you’ve barely seen him since you both came back to New York. You know he’s been working hard, finishing up everything he possibly can before he whisks you off on your honeymoon. But a part of you can’t believe that he’s been too busy to even call you on the phone. You’ve spoken to him only once in the past three weeks - once. You live in the same city, he has a key to your apartment and you’ve only spoken to him once. In truth, you can’t blame him. After all, you have no way of knowing if the stresses of planning a quick wedding are getting to him like they’re getting to you. Though, you can probably agree that all of your stress is coming more from dealing with Carole than the actual wedding. But why would his stress cause him to shut you out?

“I hesitated long enough to realize that my head and my heart were saying two different things.” There’s a knowing look on Natasha’s face as she leads you towards baggage claim.

“It’s a big decision, after all.” Your voice is quiet as you navigate the crush of people.

“It’s supposed to be the easiest one you ever make. Wasn’t it, for you?” There’s a knowing look on her face as you wait for your bags.

But you see a advertisement for something that sounds very familiar. You tug Natasha to the pillar and point to the poster.

“Hey, Tash. This is it. This is the stuff I was telling you about.” You can’t resist staring at the gorgeous glass in the picture. Something about it is really familiar.

“Do you think we have time to stop by there and take a look?”

You grin and nod. “Yeah, we’re not expecting the Mayor and her entourage until tomorrow at Dad’s.”

Your rental car this time is a Jeep and you’ve got the top down as it screams down the highway. The volume is all the way up and you take turns belting the lyrics out as the car leaves Birmingham in the rear view mirror. The two of you drive for about an hour or so before turning off onto a long tree lined road. It smells like greenery, the air fresh and clean as the wind whistles through the trees and snatches at your hair. When the road turns into a wide parking lot you can hear the soft burbling of water, and you’re greeted with a sign proclaiming that you’ve reached the warehouse and showroom for Deep South Glass.

It’s a beautiful red sided barn with white trim and a sign proclaiming “Grand Opening Weekend” on the broadside. You have to cross a white footbridge to reach the building and there are quite a lot of people at the restaurant and walking into the showroom. It’s as you cross the river with Tash that you see a familiar yellow sea plane moored against a dock a little ways down the river.

“What’s the matter, Lin?” Tash notices when you stop dumbfounded in your tracks.

“Oh, my god.” What is Jake’s seaplane doing at Deep South Glass? Your mind churns at a mile a minute as you think over everything you learned the last time you were in Pigeon Creek. Jake’s surprisingly plush bank account. The way he’d blanched when you’d spruced up the house using that money. Dot’s teasing during the Catfish Festival. Was she trying to tell you that Jake owns Deep South Glass? Was this what he decided to do after you left for New York? Was this what he chased you to New York for? Did he mean to show you his glass - to convince you to come back to him?

“Do you know a Mo, Lin?” You’re shell-shocked, heart aching and thoughts whishing past at a mile a minute as you march right into the big showroom.

“Lin?” She calls out behind you, as she hastens her steps to catch up to you. Unsurprisingly, there are gorgeous glass bowls, goblets and statuary arrayed through the cavernous space. The entire room is exposed to the cool breeze via barn doors flung open on either side and the glass glistens and shimmers in the summer sunlight. Kaleidoscopes of rainbow splatter across the vista as the clear glass refracts the bright sunlight shining down on the displays from the high windows.

“These are incredible, Lin!” You turn and glance at the spiraling strands of glass on a stand in the center of the showroom. The particular statuette Natasha is looking at resembles a stag.

“That’s what happens to sand when it is struck by lightning.” There are five of these sculptures arranged on display. Each has a small placard indicating when and where the lightning struck to make them.

“There’s no way that’s how these statues were made, Lin!” Tasha sounds shocked as she examines the statue and its price tag.

“No, really. I’ve seen it.” You walk around to the other side of the display, looking at the gorgeous blown glass paperweights. “All you have to do is dig it up once the glass cools.”

How did he build this? When did he build this? Each piece of glass is a work of art in its own right. Deep South Glass is going to take Jake far. You’re so proud of him for finding his dreams like this.

You’re idly examining a set of crystal goblets when a small furry object makes snuffling contact with your ankles. You’re not surprised at all to see Bryant licking and nuzzling at your ankles, weaving around them in sheer puppy joy with every step you take. You gather the puppy up into your arms and snuggle him close, giggling as he licks your face with broad swipes of his tongue. He smells like puppy and like Jake’s cologne. His little body is wriggly and warm as his tail wags with wild abandon, thwacking against your purse with every wriggle.

Tash makes a beeline to you the moment you have the puppy in your arms, her voice going high pitched and sweet as she pets Bryant until his front paws are on your shoulder as he attacks her hands with kisses.

“Is this cute little guy a friend of yours, Lin?”

“Something like that. This is Bryant and he’s…” You’re sure you mean to say something else, but that’s when Jake makes his way down the stairs in the corner of the store room. You’re sure there must be offices or conference rooms up there, but you could care less. The sun glints off of his golden hair and seems to sparkle in his green eyes. There’s stubble across his cheeks and his lips are pink and chapped. He's wearing an orange henley and worn jeans with work boots on his feet, and you're sure all the women in the room are staring right at him. You are, after all. Tasha inhales deeply at your shoulder as she stops trying to get Bryant’s attention because it’s on his dad just as much as yours is.

“Lin, I saw him first.” You ignore the hunger in her voice as you walk in a trance towards Jake. Bryant is just as eager as you are, wriggling more and more as he sees his dad walk towards him. You set the puppy down at the foot of the stairs, smiling despite yourself as he dances around Jake’s feet. Jake looks unexpectedly grim to see you here.

“I um..” You're tongue-tied in his presence for the first time in the decades you've known Jake Seresin. “I really like what you've done with this place. It's beautiful, Jake. Truly, it is.”

“Thanks, Linley.” There are slight bags under his eyes and his usually easy grin is strained and somber as he looks at you. The entire storeroom seems to go silent around you as you stare into his eyes.

“I tried to call you a couple of times.” He hums, looking out over the bustling showroom.

“Listen, since you're here, Lin, you and your friend should look around. Take in the sights, buy some glass. And hey, stop by the patio and have some lunch. Our chef's award winning and I guarantee it will be a meal you don't want to miss.”

When he turns around and walks away, you feel your heart splinter into shards of ruby glass, refracting pain through your being. But Bryant stays behind, content to lean against your ankles with his little tail whipping up a frenzy. Jake obviously realizes as much when he stops a few steps away and turns around.

“Bryant. Come on. Let's leave the lady and her friend alone. Come on, boy.” Bryant leaves you at the behest of his dad then, leveling liquid-brown sorrowful puppy eyes at you, whimpering balefully as he walks away. You wish he didn't have to go. You wish Jake didn't have to go. But he does, and he did. You manage to stave off Tasha’s questions until you’re back in the car clutching a small bag holding a pair of crystalline blue earrings.

“Who was that?” There is naked curiousity in her voice as she glances through the side view mirror as the barn disappears with a bend in the road. “He’s gorgeous, Lin. Are all of the men in Pigeon Creek that beautiful?”

You snort despite yourself, thinking back on your circle of friends. Honestly the only men you’d classify as gorgeous other than Jake are Mickey and Bob. Mickey’s completely off the market, you muse as you drive, but Bob, maybe he’ll hit it off with Tash this week?

“He’s just a friend, Tash.” You indicate and switch lanes, getting out from behind a slower car in the lane.

“If all my friends looked at me the way that man looked at you back there, I’d never leave my bed.” You snort, because there’s no way he still looks at you like he wants you. There’s no way.

“He’s just a friend, Tash.” You ignore her grumbles as you focus on the road. “Anyways, we have worse things to worry about! Like the fact that Carole Fucking Bradshaw is going to be in my dad’s house. And the fact that she hates him because he served with her late husband.”

“Wait, your dad served with Goose Bradshaw?” You have to grimace at the pitch her voice rises to.

“Did I not tell you that?”

“No, no you did not! When did you find out?” You fill her in on the Mitchell-Bradshaw drama on the drive to Pigeon Creek.

Thankfully, she agrees to keeping the peace between Carole and your dad and Bradley and your dad. You’re still full of nerves the next morning as you clean up your bedroom, putting away your awards and trophies from your childhood bedroom just in case Carole decides to peek in. Tasha’s sprawled out on your bed as you fret and tidy to stave off your anxiety.

“This is one of those disasters waiting to happen.” You’ve got a headache coming on as you fret and worry. “You know, one of the big ones that only cockroaches survive?”

“You’re worrying about nothing, Linley. Everything is going to be fine.” Despite Tasha’s certainty, you’re still worried. You’ve checked on the pitcher of sweet tea in the fridge four times, and polished the crystal glasses inherited from your great grandmother three more times when you hear cars pull up. Unsurprisingly, it’s not just Bradley and Carole getting out of the car. The familiar form of Beau Simpson unfolds himself out from the driver’s seat and you can’t resist leveling a glare at him as he strides over to his boss. There are also four armed guards. This is Alabama and she’s here for her son’s wedding! What does Carole think is going to happen to her? A political assasination would only be too kind for her, you think snarkily.

The evil witch herself looks less than pleased to see how modest your home is as she clings to her son’s arm. Her nose is wrinkled like she’s smelled something horrible, and maybe it’s the earthy scent of Alabaman dust that’s set her off? You’ve smelt worse on the streets of New York, but it’s probably been a decade at least since the Honorable Carole Bradshaw actually walked the streets of New York. Surely Bradley warned her about how small and rural Pigeon Creek was? To his credit, Bradley at least smiles sweetly at you as he walks up, ignoring his mother’s mumbling about the mosquitos. She should have expected it. You’re in Alabama, not Alaska. Mosquitos are perfectly normal here.

Your dad is smiling stiltedly as he stands next to you on the front porch, wearing his best shirt and yanking at his collar like it’s itching him.

“Pete.”

“Carole.”

Well, they’re off to a great start, aren’t they. You kiss Bradley’s cheek in greeting and turn to Carole.

“It’s so nice to have you here, Carole.” Her smile softens a little at the sight of your face and the sincerity in your voice, but shortly afterward you’re bundled into the most uncomfortable, unmotherly hug of your life. “I’m sorry the place is such a mess.”

She demurs, just a little, and for a few seconds more, the four of you make an awkward quadrangle in the front yard with Beau Simpson and the armed guards looming in the background.

“C’mon in, please. I’ve got drinks in the kitchen, and some light aperitifs. We’ve even got some fried pickles if you want them.” You’ve never seen Pete Mitchell so uncomfortable as he is when he stumbles over the word aperitif. But you don’t call him out on it, choosing instead to present Carole with your arm and lead her into the house. Seeing the house through her eyes, you would have sworn you’d be embarrassed. But your last visit to Pigeon Creek had shown you differently. This house may not be as fancy or sterile as the Mayor’s mansion or Bradley’s colossal penthouse in New York, but it’s home. Every inch is lived-in and suffused with history - your history, your family’s history. It’s a home neither of the Bradshaws have ever seen before.

“Thank you for setting this up, sweetheart.” Bradley whispers those words against your temple as your dad and Tasha get their dos and don’ts for the wedding. “They needed to have this conversation sometime before we got married, if only to prevent a meltdown from your dad at the altar.”

He’s smiling as he says the words, but in truth, you’re not sure that the meltdown would be your dad’s fault. He’s been acquiescing to everything Carole’s requested since she sat down on the couch and started ordering him around. He just wants you to be happy. You wish you could say the same for Carole. Even the arm Bradley has around you feels stifling and wrong. You’re a bundle of nerves and it’s got nothing to do with the wedding. Everything feels off, like there is something missing, but you can’t figure out what it is.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

Taglist:

@atarmychick007 @the-romanian-is-bae @mshistorylover @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814 @praline357 @seitmai @cheyrenee @trickphotography2 @abaker74 @marrianena-library @angelbabyange @temptest13 @kmc1989 @im-an-adult-ish @chaoticassidy @inkandarsenic @lynnevanss @shanimallina87 @khaylin27 @mizzzpink @emma8895eb @hookslove1592 @leahnicole1219 @djs8891 @midnightmagpiemama @itsdesiree86 @desert-fern @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun @callsignspitfire @roosterforme @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @cherrycola27 @thedroneranger

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #sweet home alabama #a top gun au #star's sweet home alabama top gun au #jake hangman seresin x oc #hangman x oc #jake seresin x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #rooster x oc #bradley bradshaw x oc

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oldsalempost-blog · 1 year ago

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The Old Salem Post

Our Local Tamassee-Salem SC Area News each Monday except holidays Contact: [email protected] Distributed to local businesses, town hall, library. Volume 7 Issue 31 Week of August 14, 2023 https://www.tumblr.com/settings/blog/oldsalempost-blog Lynne Martin Publishing

EDITOR: If you all followed Pauline Cannon’s story each week by Ashton Hester, you might understand the connection I feel with her, although she has passed on to her heavenly reward. To quote her “Each time I go back to Tamassee to visit, I feel as if I have left a part of me there, and I am homesick for at least a week before I get over it. I have so many memories of friends and teachers that I learned to love while I was there. . .I thank God for Tamassee. It is truly the place of the sunlight of God!!” I hope to inspire this same passion and love in others. As with anything in life that you cherish, you must protect and nurture it, whether is it your family, your home, your school, or your community. LMartin

TAMASSEE-SALEM Elementary Proposed Closing: Come to Oconee County School Board meeting on Monday, August 14th at 6:30pm at the Seneca High School. (This is not the normal location or time due to summer graduation taking place at the Seneca High School.) You may call the administrative office at 864-886-4400 to be a speaker or sign up on your early arrival. Share your concerns to help prevent this closing TSE.

Town of SALEM: Election: The Town of Salem will be holding election for Mayor and 2 Council seats. held Nov 7, 2023 at the Salem Town Hall. Candidate filing is from Friday Aug 11, noon through noon Monday Aug 25th. Candidates must reside within the Salem town limits…..We will begin collecting Toys for Tots on Sept 9th, 5pm at the last summer Car/Truck/Motorcycle & Jeep show. Fire Dept will be selling burgers and more for their local Christmas fundraising. There will be first and second places for car show exhibits and for the group and/or club who brings the most toys. We are asking all local churches and businesses to participate to fill up our boxes. We helped 94 children have Christmas last year within the Tamassee-Salem area. 944-2819. ***Visit the Downtown Market every Sat 8am-12pm. *The children’s area at the Town park is closed for now for renovations. The picnic shelter can still be rented.

Jottings from Jeannie: Benefit of Small Town Living Hooray for the Salem Library! Kayla and Abigail are SO helpful. Attractive displays change with the seasons. Currently, free vegetable, fruit, herb and flower seeds are available. Hey! I do not own a tractor, nor do have hours to invest tending crops. I am delighted to receive my allotted FIVE envelopes each the size of a Sweet and Low packet. I DID put on my coveralls and straw hat to plant fall crops: cilantro. cabbage, mixed salad greens, and beans. If I lived in Baghdad on the Reedy (Greenville), surely all of the seeds would be gone before I could fight traffic to their library. Oh! Oconee County, I love you more each day! Aren't we lucky and blessed! Miz Jeannie

Interested in starting a story telling group?: Leave a brief message at 499-4944 with your name and preference: Tuesday @3:00 or Tuesday @ 7:00 no experience necessary-- Just have a good yarn to share.

JOCASSEE VALLEY BREWING COMPANY,(JVBC) & COFFEE SHOP 13412 N Hwy 11 Open Wed–Sat-Sat 8am-9pm. Sun: 12pm-7pm. Events this week: Wing Wednesday 5pm and the Blue Grass Jam at 6:30pm Thurs– Palmetto Trail Talk at 6pm. Food Truck TBD. Fri– Food: JUST A SMILE at 5pm Music: Eric Congdon at 6:30pm. Sat–Food: Kiss My Asada—Music: Peanut Butter Whiskey at 6:30pm. Sun: 12pm-7pm Food Truck: Mac Attack. Music: Matt Phillips 4pm. (864-873-0048)

Alcohol liability SC Venue Crisis: Upcoming legislation could increase insurance premiums on every business, event center, restaurant and venue that have a wine, beer, or liquor license holds a true threat to the commerce and tourism across the entire state of SC. Businesses will be unable to pay premiums and will close. A meeting in Walhalla addressed concerns to our Senator Thomas Alexander and Representative Bill Whitmire. Musicians and food trucks will have limited venues or none at all. Frivolous lawsuits will hold every business responsible where a person has stopped if involved in an accident. Write and email your legislatures to hold individuals accountable for their irresponsible actions. SC has stiff DUI laws but lawyers find loopholes that allow drivers back on the highway.

Now that Pauline Kelley Cannon's story is completed, here is another story for the Post: SALEM PUPIL WAS 1953 OCONEE SPELLING CHAMPION (This story was in the April 15, 1953 issue of the Keowee Courier) - A smiling 14-year-old eighth-grader carried Salem's colors to the top in the annual Oconee spelling bee at Oakway school Saturday morning, and now will carry the county's hopes into the state competition at Columbia on May 2. . .The new spelling champ is June Dyar, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. A.H. Dyar. She succeeds Lamar Cason of Walhalla who has represented Oconee in Columbia the past two years. . .The Oconee spelling bee is divided into two separate contests--one for grades 5-8 and one for grades 1-4. The state competition is only for grades 5-8. . .Second spot in the grades 5-8 contest went to Paul Chalmers, 13, representing Tamassee. He is the son of Mr. and Mrs. R.Y. Chalmers. . .A Westminster girl, Janice Ginn, 13, took third place. She is the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. M.R. Ginn. . .Top spot in the contest for grades 1-4 was captured by Leon Lee, 10, a fourth-grader representing the Walhalla school. He is the son of Mr. and Mrs. W.Z. Lee. . .Two other fourth-graders, Vivian Smith of Salem and Freeman Martin of Seneca, took second and third places, respectively. Vivian is the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Erby Smith, and Freeman is the son of Mr. and Mrs. C.C. Martin.

EAGLES NEST ART CENTER , 501c3, 4 Eagle Lane, Salem DHEC kitchen available & rentals

Evening of talent: We want to thank everyone who came out to The TALENT SHOWCASE on August 12th . The event was very well received, enjoyable and entertaining. We will be planning another in the future so get your “act” together.

CANCELLATION of the Event: SONGS of the COWBOY Trail- Aug. 19th. We are very sorry to announce the cancellation of this upcoming event. Tickets purchased on line will be refunded.

CHURCH NEWS Bethel Presbyterian Church(PCUSA), 580 Bethel Church Rd, Walhalla, 29691, worships at 10:30 am. Sermon: Sunday, August 13: Message by George Harper “Storms Will Come.” Scripture reading is Genesis 37:1-4, 12-26, Mathew 14:22-23; the remainder of August: George Harper, August 20, Mel Davis, August 27. Come as you are. All welcome. We have seven blue choir robes, free local delivery, for any church that needs them. Call Paul Chudzik (723-4935) See you Sunday! Salem Methodist Church: Community Women’s Bible Study each Monday morning, 10am in the Fellowship Hall. Worship Service each Sunday at 10:30am. Sunday School at 9:30am. Sunday Breakfast at 9:00am.

Psalm 23 reminds us that “ Even though I walk through the valley…I will fear no evil...for Thou art with me.” Charles Stanley gave a message stating that we will walk through valley. It does not say ‘if” we walk through the valley… God has a plan for us during that time in the valley. He will “walk” with us through the valley in order for spiritual maturity. It does not say run through the valley. It means we will spend time in the valley with God to grow.

****Please send news, stories, and church events to [email protected] to share in your local paper! Happy Birthday Coach Hines in heaven!

Have a wonderful week!

Share a smile. Someone needs one! Lynne

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astridstorm · 2 years ago

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Easter Sunday 2023

For an audio version of this sermon, click here.

Alleluia, Christ is Risen! The Lord is Risen Indeed, alleluia.

Good morning on this glorious spring Easter Day. It's always so nice to see your faces, parishioners, friends, and family, people from afar. If you’re visiting for the first time, a special welcome to you. After the service we have a coffee hour and I hope you'll join us for that, and also come back. This is a great parish, and a great time to be part of it.

Today, we celebrate our happiest day, the very reason we exist, as a church, and as Christians, Easter Day. It happens to fall, this year, on the same day as the feast of someone in our calendar of saints that you may or may not have heard of. His name is Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Now, technically all Sundays and especially Easter Sunday override lesser commemorations like saints’ days. But I always check the calendar for interesting convergences like this, to see what they might teach us.

Bonhoeffer was a German pastor and theologian who was part of the resistance to the Nazis. He began speaking out in the early 1930s, and soon became part of an organized resistance movement. Many of its members were arrested and put into prison camps. Some survived; some did not. Bonhoeffer was executed just months before the war ended in 1945. Today his feast is honored each year on April 9 by churches all over the world.

He also made a visit right here to Scarsdale, in 1941, and spoke at the Greenville Community church just over the hill, on Ardsley Rd. A week from now they’ll be hosting a symposium on the 75th anniversary of that visit (delayed because of Covid).

Many here also know that the local Baptist Church, Scarsdale Baptist (just down Popham Rd towards the village), once hosted Dr. Martin Luther King. We, many of us, including St. James, have incredible stories to tell of times when our churches have stood on the right side of history.

The coincidence of Bonhoeffer’s feast with Easter Day is meaningful. Because his life modeled the central truth of Easter: that to get to today, with its trumpets and flowers and joy; to reach the fullness of what we’re called to be by God, we have to first pass through Good Friday, and the cross. There is no other way. Struggle and freedom, death and resurrection--are inextricably bound together.

Some of you were able this past week to spend time here walking through the last days of Jesus’ life, which we act out liturgically--and have done for almost 2000 years. On Thursday we gathered to remember the night Jesus was betrayed by one of his disciples, then taken away by the Roman guards. That service ended with one of the most striking moments in the church year, the stripping of the altar where we removed everything--every candle, cross, even the linens and kneelers from the high altar and chancel around it. The cold marble altar and its bleak surroundings recall a tomb.

On Friday, many came back to hear St. John’s Passion sung, in which was told the final hours of Jesus at his trial, and his death on the cross. We consumed the remaining sacrament, and extinguished the candle signifying Christ’s presence.

Easter doesn’t come out of the blue. It follows a process of pain and death. It’s hard won. And I wonder, looking each of us at our lives, and the lives of our loved ones, and of the institutions and societies we belong to: If we’re not engaged in some struggle, are we claiming the fullness of life that was promised us that first Easter morning?

Struggle, even death--Big D, but also small “d” death as in the the things that have to die to free us up for new ways, new friendships, new patterns of thinking and living, new life--struggle and death, far from being signs something is heading in the wrong direction, may well be signs they’re going in the right direction. That a fuller life lies ahead, if we can just pass through and get to the other side.

We English speakers are among the few who call this day “Easter,” which actually (I didn’t know this until this year) derives from the name of an old pre-Christian pagan goddess Aestre. The majority of the Christian world uses a word for today that comes from the Hebrew festival underlying our celebration: Pesach, Passover. So Greek Christians call today Pascha, the French Paques, Spanish Pascua, in Dutch Pasen, in Swedish Pask. And so on. We’re the odd ones out. And so we miss the sense of it being a passing through trial to get to freedom. Passing through death, to get to life.

So What does an Easter life look like for you, a life “fully alive”? What must you overcome, pass through, to get there? Christ, and so many of the saints (like Bonhoeffer) made better lives and worlds by taking this Easter journey. The journey to which God calls us every year, all over again, so that one of these times, or once again, we’ll stand up and claim our life in Christ, the life (to quote St. Paul) that really is life.

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