#Moving Company in Glastonbury

[castleexpress]

Trusted Moving Company in Glastonbury, CT

Trying to find a reputable Moving Company in Glastonbury, CT? Castle Express Moving is your top choice for stress-free relocations. Whether it's a residential or commercial move, our experienced team ensures safe and efficient handling of your belongings. We offer personalized services, competitive rates, and unmatched professionalism. Call us today at 888-553-4503 or visit the website to get your free quote!

[caviarsonoro]

Radiohead - Street Spirit (Fade Out) (17. Glastonbury 2017).

"Street Spirit (Fade Out)" is a dark and beautiful hymn to human fragility — a prayer that glides with hypnotic cadence along the edge of existential abyss. The song doesn’t scream; it whispers. It moves slowly, as if each chord carries the weight of the world, and it does so with a silent dignity that moves deeply. The melody, minimalist and cyclical, creates a trance-like atmosphere, like a sad mantra that accompanies the acceptance of an inescapable reality. Its beauty doesn’t lie in embellishment, but in the raw way it wraps despair: images like “rows of houses all bearing down on me” or “dead birds scream as they fight for life” build an emotional landscape that is both desolate and poetic. There is no epic, no struggle—only the lucid awareness of being trapped in an oppressive world, where the soul fades away without a sound.

Yet, amid this dense fog of resignation and emotional death, one line emerges like a crack where a little light enters: “Immerse your soul in love.” This final verse, isolated and serene, acts as a small but powerful act of resistance. It is a plea, not a certainty; a reminder that even when everything fades, when there is nothing left to hold onto, love — not as romanticism, but as a vital connection — can be the last anchor, the final spark of meaning. There is no miraculous redemption, but there is a form of emotional dignity: to embrace what is human, to feel, to surrender, even when it hurts. It echoes a deep existentialist philosophy, where salvation does not come from the outside world, but from the individual’s choice of how to face it. As Viktor Frankl would say, even in the greatest darkness, we still have the freedom to choose how we suffer.

Radiohead thus turns suffering into art, doing so without sugarcoating or disguising it. “Street Spirit” doesn’t offer comfort, but it gives us company as we fall. It’s a song that doesn’t promise everything will be okay, but quietly tells us that we are not alone in feeling that everything is falling apart. And in that act of gloomy beauty — of honest exposure of despair — there is something deeply human. Something that touches us, pierces through us, and transforms us.

[sweetdreamsjeff]

Jeff Buckley; Obituary

June 7, 1997

Jeff Buckley, guitarist and songwriter, drowned on May 29 aged 30. He was born on August 1, 1966.

ALTHOUGH he was the son of Tim Buckley, one of the most influential American folk-rock singer-songwriters of the 1960s, Jeff Buckley was thought by many to have eclipsed his father's career with his 1995 debut album, Grace. A collection of unusual cover-versions (Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah , Benjamin Britten's Corpus Christi Carol ) and his own compositions, Grace was a showcase for Jeff Buckley's astonishing vocal talents.

Once described as "a choirboy singing in a whorehouse", he could go from dirty-kneed, Kurt Cobain-style screaming to the purest top C in a breath; before embarking on a scat-jazz odyssey that would last ten minutes or more. Employing a mixture of folk, funk, grunge and jazz, Grace won Buckley the Rolling Stone Best New Artist Award in 1995.

On May 29, while working on the follow-up album in Memphis, Tennessee, Buckley and a friend went to a marina on the Mississippi to relax. Buckley, fully clothed, waded into the river singing, and was swept away by the wake of a passing boat. His body was found a week later.

Jeff Buckley never knew his father - Tim was a lothario with a drug-habit that kept him restless. Although Tim released eight critically-acclaimed albums, his sales were always disappointing. He left Jeff's mother when Jeff was six-months-old, leaving her to support Jeff and his younger brother through a variety of dead-end jobs. They had a nomadic existence, moving from state to state; and the pressure of his mother's work left Jeff to bring up his younger brother on his own.

Although he dedicated the song Dream Brother to Buckley senior, Jeff was frequently disparaging of his absent father - claiming he inherited his musical talent from his mother. At one of his London concerts in 1995, a member of the audience kept shouting out Tim Buckley's name - Jeff responded by miming the inhalation of heroin and falling to the ground in convulsions, before "dying" by the drum-riser. Tim died of an overdose in 1975. He was 28.

As a result of such an unconventional upbringing, Jeff Buckley turned to music at an early age. He was a regular on the New York folk scene, playing to crowded bars in rough-and-ready half-hour slots. One of his trademarks was to begin singing soft and low, gradually raising the volume and pitch until the audience became totally silent and entranced.

His first, limited-edition live album, Live at the Sin-e , was released on the independent label Big Cat in 1994. Such was its critical success that Sony Records signed him up for his first proper release, the Grace album, within months.

Buckley was disparaging of his status and burgeoning "legend" - and often bemused by record companies waiting on him hand and foot. One of his favourite jokes was "How many Jeff Buckleys does it take to change a lightbulb?" "Oh, it's okay, Jeff, we'll do it for you, we know a guy in Brooklyn who's wonderful at changing lightbulbs. He'll do it for a couple of points (royalties) on your album."

Although the Rolling Stone award raised his profile in the US, it was in Britain and Ireland that Buckley's career was based. His audience was diverse - from fortysomethings checking out Tim Buckley's son, to more avant-garde teenage girls, impressed by his cheekbones and haunted eyes. John McEnroe and Chrissie Hynde were regulars at his concerts - Hynde and McEnroe once spending an evening jamming with him after a particularly triumphant London appearance.

Songs such as Last Goodbye - a shivering blend of folk, blues and Buckley's scatting, ululating voice; and the dolorous, harmonium-led Lover, You Should Have Come Over - had marked Buckley out as a new Van Morrison, someone with limitless talent and range.

His last British appearance, at the 1995 Glastonbury Festival, was a chance to premiere new material, post- Grace. Songs such as the astonishing What Will You Say When You See My Face - built around Eastern chord-structures and endless, despairing blues arpeggios - confirmed that Buckley was on an artistic roll that might have resulted in dozens of treasured albums.

[ingek73]

Lewis Capaldi’s Glastonbury set displayed the best of the human spirit – and put disability centre-stage

Frances Ryan

In his moment of triumph, his disabilities visible, the crowd loved him. If only society was always so accepting of difference

Glastonbury “moments” do not typically involve silence. On Saturday night, Lewis Capaldi changed that. There were no surprise guests, no wild costumes, nor any clever covers. At times towards the end of his Pyramid stage set, Capaldi himself wasn’t even singing. But the silence was filled – by the sound of a hundred thousand people coming together to sing the words for him.

If you didn’t see the set, Capaldi – who has spoken previously about having Tourette syndrome and anxiety – had problems with his voice throughout and was visibly affected by tics (involuntary movements or sounds). He gave a stellar performance full of heart and humour, but as the hour went on, it was clear he was struggling. “I’m going to be honest everybody but I’m starting to lose my voice up here, but we’re going to keep going … until the end,” he said. “I just need you all to sing with me as loud as you can if that’s OK?” The crowd did not let him down. By the time his mega-hit Someone You Loved began and his voice had all but gone, the audience had taken over, singing the lyrics back to him. Capaldi simply stood on stage taking it in: a sea of smiling faces stretching as far as the eye could see, thousands of voices singing in unison.

It was deeply moving; the sort of display of communal spirit that didn’t just feel like Glastonbury at its best, but humankind generally.

What made the set feel so momentous was that Capaldi, perhaps unknowingly, countered how we typically understand disability (Tourette syndrome is classified as a disability in the UK). There are still few visibly disabled people in public roles and even fewer in the music industry. Other than Stevie Wonder, how many times have you seen a disabled artist with a high-ranking slot at Glastonbury? Or at any festival? It is not just that Capaldi has disabilities, but that they were present and noticeable during a moment of triumph. That can feel confusing for some. Non-disabled people are taught from an early age that disabled people are either tragic or inspirational – if they’re not “overcoming” what “holds them back”, they’re miserably failing.

At the same time, disability is still portrayed as an inherently bad thing, something that cannot coexist with careers, love or happiness. Capaldi’s performance directly challenged this shallow understanding. The realities of his health were not hidden away or kept out of sight until deemed “more acceptable”: disability was front and centre on the Pyramid stage – with joy, pain and talent alongside it.

The singer, who has just come back from three weeks away due to ill health, has said that he will now take some more time off – and it’s vital that he only performs when he feels able to, not under pressure from record company bosses or out of duty to fans. Yet it’s important to guard against the idea that disabled people in the public eye should be permitted to be visible only when “at their best”.

We still live with the all-too common myth that disabled people should hide their disability, often out of deference to the feelings of non-disabled people watching. Just look at the comments on social media suggesting that Capaldi shouldn’t have gone ahead with the performance. What the non-disabled gaze might see (well-meaningly) as “heartbreaking” or supposedly pitiable is often, in fact, just a disabled person living their life. It’s not that it’s at all wrong to feel for someone clearly struggling; it’s rather that sometimes this approach puts the non-disabled person’s own discomfort and awkwardness above that of the person they’re ostensibly sympathising with.

Ask a disabled person and odds are that they’ll have a story about what this prejudice means in their day-to-day life, whether that’s a young woman in pain from arthritis deciding to go without her cane because strangers shout “You’re too young for that!” or an office worker with multiple sclerosis avoiding presentations because he’s worried about colleagues’ reaction to his voice tremors. That sense of shame and isolation is an incredibly heavy burden to carry every day of your life.

Imagine the difference it would make to people’s lives if disabled bodies were normalised. If a tic were just a twinge on the face and not a sign of failure. That’s why Capaldi’s performance on Saturday matters. As the early evening sun shone over Worthy Farm, the crowd were communicating much more to the singer than his own lyrics. They were saying: “We want you exactly as you are.” In doing so, Glastonbury showed disabled people that acceptance is possible, at least for an hour.

Frances Ryan is a Guardian columnist

[influencermagazineuk]

Seventeen: The K-pop Band Poised to Make History at UK Festival

DaftTaengk, CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0, via Wikimedia Commons They are the biggest-selling act globally, and they're about to grace the Pyramid Stage. The headline act on Glastonbury’s Pyramid Stage this yea is a K-pop boy band boasting 13 members, who sold over 10 million albums last year. Despite K-pop's global success, the UK has been slow to embrace the genre. Bands like BTS, Blackpink, Stray Kids, and Aespa have gained traction, often through collaborations with Western artists like Selena Gomez, Lady Gaga, or Coldplay. However, Seventeen stands out as they don't do collaborations and uniquely write and produce their own material. Now, they are set to make history as the first K-pop act on Glastonbury's main stage. The significance of this milestone is not lost on them. “There's a great sense of responsibility,” says Choi Seungcheol, also known as the band leader S Coups. “We’ll keep coming back to that feeling and do our best to prepare, so that we can blow everybody away… Not just our fans, but every other member of the audience.” This year, Glastonbury is moving further from its rock roots, reflecting evolving audience tastes. The Pyramid Stage will also feature Afrobeat icons Burna Boy and Ayra Starr, while pop star Dua Lipa and R&B sensation SZA will headline. Seventeen's performance is scheduled for Friday afternoon, a stark contrast to their usual late-night sets in Asia, but S Coups remains unfazed. “The time of day doesn't really matter to us,” he says. “It's actually even better that we’ll be performing in the afternoon because the audience can see us better under sunlight.” Their music, known for its upbeat and positive vibes, includes hits like "Shining Diamond" and "Very Nice," reminding fans that pop can be fun. Seventeen's journey began in the basement of South Korean entertainment company Pledis, where members endured a long and grueling apprenticeship lasting four to five years. Rapper Jeon Won-woo, known to fans as Wonwoo, was one of the first recruits in 2013, surviving multiple rounds of auditions documented in the online series Seventeen TV. The band faced a significant turning point during an eight-month hiatus when three members were replaced. S Coups recalls, “Our deal was pushed back a little and Woozi, one of our members, thought we could debut earlier than planned if we made our own music.” Woozi, a classically-trained musician, co-wrote and produced most of their songs, inspiring other members to learn songwriting and lyric-making. “Being engaged in our creative process goes a long way towards making our music more authentic. We take great pride in it,” says S Coups. Despite the intense training and initial struggles, Seventeen's debut EP, "17 Carat," was released in May 2016. The group, consisting of S Coups, Jeonghan, Joshua, Jun, Hoshi, Wonwoo, Woozi, DK, Mingyu, The8, Seungkwan, Vernon, and Dino, is divided into vocal, hip-hop, and dance teams. Their name represents this tripartite setup: 13 people + 3 units + 1 band = 17. S Coups, the oldest member and leader, approaches his role with humility. “I try to listen to what every member has to say and have everybody aligned on the same path,” he says. “My goal is to make sure we can last as long as possible, so we can make as much music as possible.” Woozi oversees music production, and Hoshi leads choreography, while each member contributes uniquely to the band’s dynamic. Seventeen's hard work and dedication have paid off. Their sound has evolved from the pop of "Adore U" to the broody EDM of "Don't Wanna Cry" and the genre-hopping exuberance of "Left & Right." Their recent mini-album "FML" includes the introspective title track and the upbeat celebration "Super." "I'm getting so numb to this life that it feels like I'm shrinking away,” sang The8, reflecting on the band's mindset during its creation. "But when we honestly, openly talk about our feelings, it really helps to get rid of the negativity," says Wonwoo. Seventeen's success is evident with "FML" being the biggest-selling record of 2023, selling over 6.3 million copies. To introduce new fans to their music, they have released a 33-track compilation, "17 Is Right Here," featuring all their singles and a new track, "Maestro." Looking ahead, Seventeen aims to expand their audience further with a world tour planned for the end of the year. “We’d like to reach fans in as many countries as possible because we don't really get to see them that often in person,” says S Coups. “I still believe that we have a long way to go and we want to become even more successful.” Read the full article

[bpbuilderctl]

BP Builders

BP Builders is a very fortunate roofing contractor for the residents of Rhode Island and Connecticut. In case you require roofing services and reside in the central Connecticut or Rhode Island region, get in touch with BP Builders.

roofers connecticut

If you need premium roofing supplies in the Rhode Island or Centaurus roofer near me areas, give BP Builders a call. Give BP Builders a call if you need roofing services and you reside or work in the Connecticut or Rhode Island region. BP Builders can replace the roof if you're not happy with how your property looks. For residents of Rhode Island and Connecticut, our company is the finest choice for roof replacement. Business Roofs It was a smart move to hire a licensed roofer. This local roofing firm should be contacted if your roof requires repair and your business must quickly return to normal. Our acts will cause a massive shift in the outcomes. Benefits to the Mind and SoulIncluding exercise in your daily routine is a fantastic way to make improvements in your life. Before the storm's full force is felt, it can take some time. While you're away, we can take care of any correspondence with your insurance provider. Allow me to explain what happened: A Brief Synopsis: A Synopsis in Brief We should not give up since soon someone with more experience will join us. How would you feel about partnering with a roofing company in Connecticut? Are you in then? Contact BP Builders as soon as possible. For over 25 years, a lot of people have depended on our roofing and home renovation services. These home repair experts have all the required licenses and insurance, and they are so confident you'll enjoy the results that they back it with a five-year warranty. If you need further information, don't be afraid to ask. You may rely on our professionals to assist you with home improvement. Our unwavering dedication to offering top-notch service in every interaction sets us apart from our rivals in the roofing contractors Glastonbury market. CT You are guaranteed our undivided attention for any comments you provide, regardless of when we get in touch with you until the installation is complete. Our roofing firm stands out from the others because of our unwavering dedication to them and our desire to go above and beyond their expectations. Let's take a collective look at the industry's past goals to ensure we all remember and understand them. To discuss any and all roofing needs, please contact BP Builders. Because we only sell the best items, we are able to offer the longest warranties available. Nobody is more skilled at roofing than we are. Making you the center of attention and going above and beyond your expectations is our objective. If you'd like more information about the roofing services that come with a 10-year warranty, don't hesitate to contact us. A Reputable Roofing Company Whatever the situation, BP Builders consistently delivers the exceptional service they provide. Our expert roofers are equipped with the know-how and abilities needed to finish the job. We won't leave your roof until the job is done to your satisfaction. You can reach us at any time of day or night if you need assistance. Because this ShingleMasterTM is a Certainteed product, it will endure for many years. Before employing a roofer, find out if they are licensed. A CertainTeed certification will make your roofing business stand out from the competitors. In my field, most businesses have been failing for a while now. Your roof will endure for many years thanks to our thorough roofing procedure. Bo Builders promises the best roofing systems available with SureStart PLUSTM, the leading extended warranty coverage in the industry. Our goal is for you to be completely satisfied. We maintain contact with all of the major insurance providers, in my opinion.

roofers ct Has your cherished house been harmed by a storm, strong winds, or hail? Our roofing firm is capable of handling any size job. Do not be alarmed; we are the ones who will contact your insurance company. BP Builders' specialty is restoring properties to their previous splendor. Together with comprehensive examinations, they also offer precise estimations. We can also take care of any repairs that are necessary for the property you purchased. A terrible agony has befallen you and your family members. We understand that replacing a roof is definitely not an inexpensive fix. Our variety of payment choices allows you to buy with confidence. In addition to cash or a check, you can pay with any major credit card. No matter how long you put it off, you will eventually need to get your roof repaired. Please call this number to speak with BP Builders. Do not hesitate to contact us if you need any assistance. Defenders of the Famous and Wealthy Prior to replacing or repairing anything, ensure sure the roof is clean. By hiring us, you may be confident that bad weather won't affect your house or yard. For those who lose nails or staples when gardening on a regular basis, a magnet can save the day. Paying attention to your doctor? He surveyed the well-kept lawn, trying to think of something to write down. Hartford, Indiana does occasionally hold a few events. Put Your Trust in BP Builders' Roof Knowledge The roofing team at BP Builders has ten years of combined expertise, so they are qualified to evaluate your demands. Reputable Roof Cost Estimates Many of the local roofing firms would be pleased to inspect your roof and, should they find any issues, do the necessary repairs. After the assessment, we are happy to provide a quote with no strings attached. Advice for Companies in the Roofing Industry Our roofing coatings are astounding people in Connecticut. Our exceptional service quality never fails to astound our clientele. For all of your roofing needs, from initial installation to continuing maintenance and beyond, BP Builders is here to help. We provide an all-inclusive service that includes cleanup, documentation, and permit filing in addition to roofing repairs. Assurance of Peace of Mind Roof You can feel secure knowing that our construction and roofing replacement services are supported by warranties ranging from five to twenty years.

[camellasstory]

Hire the Best Cabinet Painting Company in Glastonbury, CT for Professional Resurfacing

Are your kitchen cabinets looking tired and worn out? If so, it might be time to give them a fresh new look with professional cabinet resurfacing. Not only can this breathe new life into your kitchen space, but it can also add value to your home. However, for the best results, you’ll want to hire the best Cabinet Painting Company in Glastonbury, CT. Let’s explore why investing in their expertise is worth every penny!

Benefits of hiring the Best Cabinet Painting Company in Glastonbury, CT

When it comes to giving your kitchen a fresh new look, hiring the best cabinet painting company in Glastonbury, CT can make all the difference. Professional painters have the expertise and experience to deliver high-quality results that will transform your space.

One of the main benefits of working with a reputable cabinet painting company is their attention to detail. They know how to properly prepare cabinets for painting, ensuring a smooth and durable finish that will last for years to come.

Additionally, professional painters have access to top-of-the-line materials and equipment that can elevate the overall look of your cabinets. Their knowledge of different paint finishes and techniques allows them to achieve stunning results that you may not be able to replicate on your own.

By hiring experts in cabinet resurfacing, you can save time and effort while ensuring a flawless outcome. Letting professionals handle the job means less stress for you and more time to enjoy your beautifully refreshed kitchen space.

Factors to consider when choosing the Best Cabinet Painting Company in Glastonbury, CT

When selecting the professional cabinet painting company in Glastonbury, CT, it’s crucial to consider their experience and expertise in the field. Look for a company with a proven track record of successfully completing cabinet resurfacing projects.

Another important factor to consider is the quality of materials and paints used by the company. Ensure that they use high-quality products that will provide a durable and long-lasting finish for your cabinets.

Customer reviews and testimonials can also give you valuable insights into the reputation of the painting company. Take the time to read feedback from previous clients to get an idea of what to expect from their services.

Additionally, check if the company offers any warranties or guarantees on their work. This can give you peace of mind knowing that they stand behind their craftsmanship and are committed to customer satisfaction.

Consider requesting quotes from multiple companies to compare prices and services offered. Remember that while cost is important, it should not be the sole deciding factor when choosing a cabinet painting company for your project.

How to prepare for a professional cabinet resurfacing job

When preparing for a professional cabinet resurfacing job, the first step is to clear out the contents of your cabinets. Remove all items and store them in a safe place to protect them from dust and paint particles.

Next, make sure to clean the cabinets thoroughly. Use a mild detergent or cleaner to remove any grease, dirt, or grime that may have built up over time. This will ensure that the new paint adheres properly to the surface.

After cleaning, it’s essential to sand down the cabinet surfaces. This step helps create a smooth and even base for painting and improves adhesion. Be sure to use fine-grit sandpaper and wipe away any dust before moving on.

Consider discussing your color preferences with the good Cabinet Painting Company in Glastonbury, CT before they begin work. They can provide guidance on choosing the right finish and color that will complement your space beautifully.

Conclusion

Hiring the best cabinet painting company in Glastonbury, CT for your professional cabinet resurfacing job is a wise investment. Not only will you benefit from their expertise and high-quality workmanship, but you can also rest assured that your cabinets will be transformed into beautiful focal points of your home. By considering all the factors mentioned and adequately preparing for the project, you can achieve stunning results that will enhance the aesthetic appeal and value of your space. So why wait? Make the smart choice today and give your cabinets a fresh new look with the help of professionals who truly understand how to bring out their full potential.

FAQs

What sets your cabinet painting services apart from other companies in Glastonbury, CT?

At our cabinet painting services in Glastonbury, CT, we take great pride in offering top-notch quality and exceptional customer service. What sets us apart from other companies is our attention to detail and commitment to using high-quality materials. 

How can hiring your company for cabinet painting save homeowners time and money?

Hiring our company for cabinet painting can save homeowners both time and money in several ways. Firstly, our team of experienced professionals can complete the job efficiently and quickly, saving homeowners the hassle of trying to paint their cabinets themselves.

What steps do you take to ensure customer satisfaction with your cabinet painting services?

At our cabinet painting services, we prioritize customer satisfaction above all else. To ensure that our customers are completely satisfied with the results of our work, we follow a few important steps. First and foremost, we have a thorough consultation process where we listen to the specific needs and preferences of each individual client.

Do you offer a variety of colors and finishes for customers to choose from when painting cabinets?

Yes, we understand that every customer has different preferences and needs when it comes to painting their cabinets. That’s why we offer a wide variety of colors and finishes for our customers to choose from.

[musicmoney]

#Musicmoney meets Tim, Just A Jester to hear about his new track, Slow Dance

Where are you from?

I'm from Kingston, London, UK. 

Describe your sound:

My sound varies depending on the song I'm writing. Each requires something different depending on its theme and tempo etc. However, all songs have either electric or acoustic guitar in common. 

Tell us about your latest track:

My latest track, "Slow Dance" is an acoustic song, it was written 31 years ago. I'd almost forgotten about it until an admirer told me they wanted to hear it again. It was actually one of quite a few that Island and Ensign records wanted to sign me up for years ago. Unluckily for me the management company who represented me at the time turned the deals down because the offers weren't enough to cancel an outstanding debt they had. I didn't find this out until 2 years after the deals were offered. "Slow Dance" is a song about my reflections of early discos where men lining the walls of the venue would eye up their potential partners on the dance floor. The slow dance was the perfect opportunity for the guys to make moves on girls they fancied and be intimate with them in the dance.

Who inspires you?

My inspirations come from anything that captures my imagination; the story of a remarkable life of someone, an emotion, a tv documentary, a broken heart, new found love or just a reflection of the state of the world around me.

Where do you see your career in 5 years?

I'd like to be a full time professional musician playing and recording like I used to years ago. I will make this my aim over the next 5 years.

Where can we check out your sounds?

You can check out my sounds on just about any platform, all songs are distributed by ditto on Spotify, Apple and Soundcloud etc. They have all had radio plays around the world, I've had over 10 top 10 hits in various international chart shows.

Tell us something about yourself that people need to know...

Over the years, in various outfits, I have supported Van Morrison at the Ivor Novello awards, played live my song "Railway Stations" to 9 million viewers on BBC 1 TV, played Glastonbury on different stages 8 times, toured England and Italy with bands including Sonja Kristina of Curved Air, (Stewart Copeland's ex-wife) recording countless albums. Recorded at Peter Gabriel's Real World studio with some of his band members.

[aziraphales-library]

Hullo!! can I ask fan fics that are meet cutes? i can't find any. Thank you sm!!!!

Hi! Oh, i adore a good meet cute. There is a tag on ao3 and I’ve created a meet cute + Aziraphale/Crowley search for you here, so feel free to drive in! For now, here are a few of my favourite meet cutes...

A Matching Pair Of Fools by ineffablefool (T)

This was foolish, the whole idea was foolish, and Aziraphale himself was the greatest fool of all. Oh, he knew his sister meant well, but what she apparently didn't understand was that Aziraphale was difficult. He was difficult to love, to even tolerate, with his very particular standards on everything from attire to zebra crossings. To expect a stranger to overlook all of that…

(Human AU. Pre-blind-date anxiety followed by Lots Of Soft.)

The Angel and The Holy Thorn by Z A Dusk (G)

Aziraphale has been in Glastonbury for five years but finds himself wondering if he’ll ever find what he’s searching for. Or even figure out what he’s searching for.

His neighbour Anthony has been in Glastonbury for six months and is about to open his new venture - The Holy Thorn restaurant. He loves the town but is having trouble finding his way.

When both men have a frustrating Christmas Eve, a chance collision leads to new connections. Perhaps this will be a happy new year after all?

Trapped by AppleSeeds (T)

When the power goes out, Aziraphale finds himself trapped in an ATM vestibule at the bank with only stunningly handsome model Anthony Crowley for company.

(Basically just a Good Omens version of the trapped in an ATM vestibule scene from the power cut episode of Friends)

Raspberry Ripple by FeralTuxedo (T)

Every afternoon, a man in a velvet waistcoat sits on the bench by the stone fountain and eats ice cream. Every afternoon, Crowley watches him from his office window. One day, he’ll pluck up the courage to talk to him.

Of Boxes, Boas, and Bastards by HKBlack (M)

When Crowley's friend, Anathema, sent an SOS text to help her classmate stealth move out of the place he shares with his seriously shitty (soon to be ex-)boyfriend, he didn't expect to catch feels for an angel. But then, he's always moved too fast. Good thing the angel is interested in keeping pace.

Or in other words,

A meet cute in which Crowley's a disaster, Aziraphale's a bastard, and Anathema's regretting introducing the two of them to one another.

the devil and the deep blue sea by Waywarder (M)

Look, Crowley didn’t have anything really against Pride Night. For starters, he was gay. Flaming like anything, even. But big, happy, in-your-face parties celebrating love and togetherness…

Yeah, not as much his thing. Doesn’t really matter why.

Also:

“And what the fuck does being gay have to do with fish?” Crowley demanded, a bit quieter this time, as a new, already-wasted guest stumbled up to the bar and ordered two tequila shots.

While tending bar for Pride Night at the aquarium (fuck his life), Crowley wanders off in the hopes of seeing some actual fish. What he finds is altogether more wonderful.

- Mod D

[the-al-chemist]

When Stars Ignite - Chapter 59

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N:

Song lyrics used in this chapter are all from Fleetwood Mac’s Songbird, written by Christine McVie. Talbott Winger’s bodyguard Talia Hayes belongs to @whatwouldvalerydo. I’ve been pretty nervous about publishing this specific chapter. Enjoy.

General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning: smoking (cigarettes), brief mentions of alcohol/drugs, language, and Artemis gone completely rogue…

~~~

Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here.

~~~

This work is a collaboration with @lifeofkaze

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @night-rhea @carewyncromwell @thatravenpuffwitch @anthamariemayfair @whatwouldvalerydo

And the songbirds keep singing

Like they know the score

~ Fleetwood Mac - Songbird ~

Artemis wasn’t sure what to do with herself. She knew she couldn’t go back to the soundcheck, and she didn’t really want to go back, either. She left the wings of the Pyramid Stage, and kept walking, not knowing where she was going, or why.

She stepped outside and found the quietest spot she could, and stopped there, her breathing still shallow, her heart still racing. She lit a cigarette, and felt her chest move slower and more widely as the smoke burned its way through her lungs. While one hand held the cigarette, her other remained on her lighter, and she fiddled with it, watching the little flame bob about in the morning breeze.

With each inhalation and exhalation, she felt her anger start to dissipate, and give way to a sense of regret. What had she done? What the fuck was wrong with her? Why had Ethan’s words bothered her so much? Why the fuck had she been so stupid? In shouting at him, she had risked losing a job she had grown to love, with people she had grown to… enjoy the company of. Like. Trust. Why did she always have to ruin everything that was good in her life?

She had an overwhelming urge to get away from reality. Luckily, Glastonbury Festival was as good a place as any for her to lose herself in the crowds. After she finished her cigarette, and pulled herself together somewhat, she set off again. Lunchtime came and went - though Artemis felt too sick to eat - and still she was not ready to return to the yurts, or to spend time with anyone she knew. Instead, she spent the afternoon exploring the less mainstream areas, where she’d be less likely to bump into anyone who knew her.

Even in the quieter zones, crowds had gathered. There were families doing arts and crafts, a group of bohemian-looking people in their middle age doing yoga in the mud, and many teenagers barely out of sixth form already on the alcohol - or, more likely, stronger substances.

Unable to settle in body or in mind, she didn’t stay anywhere for long. The scents of stale alcohol and weed hung in the air, and a mixed cacophony of sounds swam past Artemis’ ears as she meandered past the various tents and stages: the strumming of acoustic guitars, heavy beats of drum and bass, a cheerful-sounding ukulele, the harmonising voices of a gospel choir, and Latin music that, at any other time, might have made her feel like dancing. But not today.

It wasn’t until the evening, when she heard a group of girls a few years younger than herself talking about going to the Pyramid Stage that she remembered that she still had to work that night, and that she had left her morning’s work unfinished. Not only that, she’d agreed to watch Talbott Winger perform with Charlie and his girlfriend. Ava.

Although she still wanted to put off seeing everyone for as long as possible, she had been looking forward to seeing Winger’s set. Frowning for a moment, she decided what she would do. She had a pass to get backstage, and there was bound to be plenty of crew around. No one would notice her in the wings if she kept herself to herself.

She took a route to the back of the Pyramid Stage that avoided the areas where any of the members of Equinox or their crew were likely to be, and flashed her pass to a security guard on the gate. Her head held high, as if she were meant to be there, she walked straight through the backstage areas to the sides of the stage itself. No one stopped her.

In the wings, Talbott Winger was preparing to start his set, taking deep breaths and smoothing his tawny brown hair back off his tanned, pointed face.

“You’re not meant to be here.”

The voice had come from directly behind Artemis. She turned around to see Winger’s red-haired security guard bearing down at her, her face passive but hardened. Artemis shrugged, and took out her pass.

“Not yet, but I’m allowed to be her,” she told the bodyguard, refusing to be intimidated by her cold stare.

“Most people prefer to watch from the crowds. Better view. Better company.”

“I don’t want company.”

Perhaps it was the tone of Artemis’ voice, or something in the expression on her face, but something made Talbott Winger’s bodyguard relent. Although her eyes remained narrowed, she nodded her head.

“Any trouble, and you’re out,” she told her. “I don’t give a shit about that pass.”

She backed away, and Artemis set herself up by a speaker from which she could see most of the stage, and a large section of the arena, trying to make herself as small as possible. The noise from the crowds echoed through to her as Talbott Winger walked out onto the stage, and started to sing a selection of his new songs.

Listening to the music, far from the crowds, hidden from everyone except the taciturn bodyguard, Artemis finally felt almost free from the niggling feeling at the back of her mind, and the tightness in her abdomen that had lingered with her all day. But, now that she was becoming relaxed, she felt a strange pricking sensation at the backs of her eyes. She blinked, and focused her sight on the wings that were embroidered on the back of Talbott’s jacket, watching the way the stitches caught the spotlight.

A scuffling noise from behind her pulled her attention away from the stage, and she turned her face to see what was going on. By the doorway, Winger’s bodyguard was having a hissed conversation with another person with red hair.

Artemis’ stomach flipped as Charlie and the bodyguard looked pointedly in her direction, and the bodyguard reluctantly waved Charlie towards her.

“I thought you might be here,” he whispered as he approached her. Not wanting to look at him, she turned her face back to the stage without saying a word. “Is he any good?”

“He’s okay.”

“Right. And you, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Artemis lied. She could feel Charlie’s eyes boring into the back of her head, but she didn’t look back.

“Artemis.”

“Yeah?”

“Look, I’m really sorry,” Charlie said, his voice soft. “I let you down earlier, I know. I’m sorry.”

Artemis said nothing. She had nothing to say. Charlie continued:

“I didn’t want to bail on you like that, I swear. And I’m sorry if you didn’t think the meeting went well. I’m sure it went better than you think.”

“The meeting went fine,” Artemis told him.

“Oh,” said Charlie, a note of surprise in his voice. “Oh, right. That’s good. I thought that maybe because you came back so upset that you might have… You know, it’s only natural that you’re nervous.”

“What?”

“About the display tomorrow. It’s a big deal, and a lot of pressure, I get it. It’s no wonder you’re feeling-”

“I’m not nervous.”

“Right. Yeah,” behind her, Artemis heard Charlie sigh before he started whispering again. “Well, about your cousin and the rest of your family, I’m sure they’ll be so happy to see you. You don’t have to be worried about this barbecue-”

“I’m not worried about the fucking barbecue, Charlie.”

Artemis hadn’t meant to raise her voice at all, but she heard Talbott’s bodyguard clear her throat, and turned to see her glaring at her. Charlie must have seen the threatening look in the woman’s eyes too, because he placed his hand on Artemis’ elbow and pulled her backwards, away from the stage and deeper into the wings.

“Alright. So what’s up?” he asked. They were standing face to face now, so Artemis couldn’t avoid eye contact. She shrugged, and shook her head. Charlie tilted his own. “Obviously something’s bothering you, the way you went off on one at Ethan and went AWOL all day. What’s the matter?”

Artemis closed her eyes and inhaled.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I just… I really don’t know.”

“That makes it harder to find a way to help,” Charlie replied. Artemis opened her eyes and nodded slowly.

“Yeah. That’s the problem.”

Charlie frowned, silently thinking for a few moments.

“Have you eaten today?” he asked, eventually. Artemis blinked, staring at him incredulously, and he shrugged. “What?”

“For fuck’s sake, Charlie. I’m not just fucking hungry.”

“I just thought that maybe… I don’t know. Never mind.”

Artemis watched Charlie’s eyebrows furrow even deeper.

“You genuinely don’t know what to do now, do you?” she asked him, and he shook his head. In spite of herself, Artemis laughed, placing her hand over her face and lowering her gaze to the ground. She sighed. “I can’t believe that’s really your solution for everything.”

“In my defence, it usually works,” Charlie smiled sheepishly. “You know, I think you’re probably just more stressed about tomorrow night than you realise. It’s a massive gig, after all.”

Artemis frowned. She didn’t think that was it at all, but she nodded anyway. “Maybe. I dunno.”

“I bet you that’s what it is,” Charlie leant back against the speaker they were now standing behind. “Trust me, I know. I had my first solo run as a pyro on the Pyramid Stage.”

“You did?”

Charlie nodded, and Artemis turned to lean against the speaker next to him, tilting her head expectantly.

“Six years ago. Same year Equinox made their debut at the festival. I was shitting it,” he looked at Artemis out of the corner of his eye. “What are you grinning about?”

“Oh, nothing,” said Artemis. She hadn’t even realised that she had started smiling. “Sorry. Just… That was the summer I came to Glastonbury, just before I started training as a pyro. That’s all.”

“You were here?”

“Technically, I was out there,” she gestured in the direction of the arena, “but yeah. I would have seen your effects. I saw the band’s set, too. It was brilliant. Was a fan of Equinox from there on in.”

“Who would have thought that from the way you were when you first met them in person?” Charlie muttered, with a smirk. “What about my pyros? Did you like those, too?”

“Well, I decided to train as a pyrotechnician after watching them, so…”

“Really? I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be. I saw them and thought that I could do a much better job than that.”

Artemis raised her eyebrows at Charlie, who laughed and shook his head.

“I’d take offence, but it’s true,” he said. “You definitely could. And you will. So you don’t need to be all aggy, alright?”

“Alright.”

“No more shouting at Ethan or calling him a… see you next Tuesday?”

Artemis couldn’t help but laugh at that, but she nodded, “I’ll try.”

“Good enough for me,” Charlie smiled, and stood up straight. “Come on. Shall we go back and see the others before we have to be here to do actual work?”

“I was listening to the music,” Artemis said. Charlie looked in the direction of the exit with a hesitant expression on his face. Artemis tilted her head at him, her eyes wide.  “We were always going to come and watch Winger. And the set’s nearly over, there can only be a couple of songs left.”

Charlie sighed and nodded, and they both walked back around the right hand side of the speaker to where Artemis had been standing watching before. She got as close to the stage as she could without physically standing on it, and Charlie stood slightly behind her, the left side of his chest just touching her right shoulder blade.

It turned out that there was only one song left, and to perform it, Talbott Winger had picked up a semi-acoustic guitar. He plucked a few strings, checking the amplification, before speaking into the microphone.

“This is a song you might know,” he said, and his eyes flicked momentarily to the side of the stage where his red-haired bodyguard was watching, her arms folded across her chest, her face unreadable. “It’s a very special one to me.”

He looked down at his guitar and started to play a set of chords. Artemis smiled, and turned her head to the right.

“Told you we should stay until the end,” she whispered over her shoulder. “This is a great song.”

“I don’t think I know it,” Charlie replied, his voice equally low.

“You do. Everyone knows this song.”

As the intro finished, Artemis turned her face back to the stage. The sweetly melancholic tune had started to give her a very strange sensation, one that she couldn’t place, and the feeling only grew as Winger lifted his gaze from his guitar to sing into the microphone.

“For you, there'll be no more crying.”

All day, she had felt like she was about to cry, and now she was fighting back the tears once more. Don’t cry, she told herself. And she didn’t cry.

“For you, the sun will be shining.”

The sun was setting over the hills in the horizon, and in front of the Pyramid Stage a thousand people were waving lighters above their heads, the tiny flickering dots of light dancing in the dusk like fireflies.

“And I feel that when I'm with you…”

And here she was, with Charlie, again. But why did her feet want to carry her far, far away from him?

“…It's alright, I know it's right.”

She didn’t feel alright. She didn’t feel at all right, she felt… wrong. This was all wrong. She shook her head, trying to clear it of thoughts.

“To you, I'll give the world.”

Her head started to spin, though she stood stock still. Perhaps it wasn’t her head spinning, she wondered, vaguely. Perhaps her head was still, and she was feeling the world turning on its own axis, switching days into nights and nights into days as it rotated. It never stopped. She wished it would stop. It was making her dizzy.

“To you, I'll never be cold…”

She’d always been a cold-hearted bitch. She knew that. For fuck’s sake, she’d been told that. But recently, she’d felt the ice around her chest start to melt, and now she realised it had gone too far, that her heart was so warm it was burning, like something inside her had ignited in her very core. She barely dared to breathe.

“…'Cause I feel that when I'm with you. It's alright.”

Now she could feel the fire inside her heating her whole being, the warmth spreading through every inch of her, from her heart to her lungs, through her diaphragm, up to her collarbone, through the pit of her stomach, in her throat, in her groin, her mouth, her knees, head, feet, hands. The roots of her hair felt as if they were being lifted with it, and she could feel her fingertips tingling.

“I know it's right.”

And Charlie was still standing to her right, and she could feel him, too, and she didn’t know if he could tell what was going on inside of her. Did he know about the fire that was currently blazing, lighting her up, making her feel as if she were about to explode? She wanted the feeling to stop, but she couldn’t make it stop…

“And the songbirds are singing…”

…because the song on the stage was playing through the speakers just behind where she stood, and its lyrics were branding themselves on her brain; she couldn’t stop thinking about the music, and the quick beat of her heart, and the fact that she wanted to run, but somehow she knew that her feet wouldn’t carry her, even if she did manage to get past Charlie.

Charlie…

And just like that, the fire was extinguished, and the burning heat was replaced by an icy chill that sent a shiver all the way up her spine.

“…like they know the score.”

Oh, no.

“And I love you.”

No.

“I love you.”

No.

“I love you…”

Her heart dropped like a stone.

“…like never before.”

Never before had Artemis wanted so much to… Never before had she wanted so much, and yet, so little, all at once.

The soft guitar melody started to play the instrumental section, the gentle tune drifting through the air, wordlessly. Finally, the lyrics had stopped, and now that they had, Artemis couldn’t help but miss them. Her own thoughts were flying around her mind, too fast to catch hold of. And Charlie’s hand was so close to her own, and she couldn’t take hold of that, either. She couldn’t. But she wanted to. God, she wanted to.

“And I wish you all the love in the world…”

She did. She really did.

“…but most of all, I wish it from myself.”

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? She wasn’t the one who could reach out, touch him, love him, even.

“And the songbirds keep singing like they know the score.”

This was it. This was what she’d been trying to ignore all day. Maybe longer. How long had this feeling been there, stirring like a bird on a branch, just waiting to take flight? She didn’t know. All she knew for a fact was-

“And I love you.”

Fuck.

“I love you, I love you…”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Like never before.”

Before she had thought her heart was racing, but that was nothing compared to now.

“Like never before.”

Before she couldn’t bring herself to breathe, and now she wasn’t sure if she even was able to breathe.

“Like never before.”

That was it. The song had ended. The crowd was cheering, clapping, roaring, and Artemis was soaring, and falling, both at the same time. She was weightless, and she was heavy, and she was whole, and broken, and tired, and yet she was alive, so very alive.

“We should go back.”

The sound of Charlie’s voice snapped Artemis back to where she stood to the left of him. She trembled at the feeling of his breath on the nape of her neck as he whispered in her ear.

Charlie must have mistaken her silence for her not having heard him, because he repeated himself, “Artemis? We really have to-”

“I know,” Artemis said, somehow. She was surprised by her own ability to speak; her throat was so dry that she hadn’t thought she’d be able to make a sound. Yet, her voice sounded distant and unfamiliar to her ears, with a hollow quality that she hated.

Her heart heavy in her chest, she closed her eyes and drew a shaky breath. When she opened them, the bright shine of the spotlights from the other side of the stage stung the backs of her eyes and made fuzzy white spots appear in her vision. Still, she kept looking at them as she brought herself to speak once more.

“Ava will be wondering where you are.”

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[scarlettwitcher]

Baby Girl Chapter Four

Summary: Y/n tried to avoid her past with a certain Statesmen but when they’re partnered back up for a mission that could cost millions their lives, Y/n must make the right choice. (This is the Kingsman: The Golden Circle movie basically in writing with reader insert. I recommend watching the movie, it’s amazing! It’s on Amazon Prime Video.)

Characters: Agent Whiskey x Agent Gin(Female Reader), Tequila, Ginger Ale, Eggsy, Merlin, Champ, Harry, mentions of Poppy, Charlie, and Clara

Word Count: 3,306

Warnings: angst, canon typical violence, fluff, cursing, really bad insults

Author’s Note: We are now halfway through this series ladies, gentlemen, and my nonbinary friends. Taglists will be updated soon so if you would like to be tagged for Forevers, Dean Winchester, Marvel, Henry Cavill, or Pedro Pascal, please let me know! REQUESTS ARE OPEN! As always, thank you for reading and feedback is always welcome/needed.

Previously..

You were exhausted after the many sessions you both had and you were asleep, tucked into Whiskey's side. His arm was wrapped protectively around you, holding you tightly against him. You didn't expect this side to him but you loved it. You slowly stirred in your quiet slumber, knowing you had to return to the agency to prepare for anything to appear for the mission. You felt a heavyweight against your hip and you smiled, remembering everything from the night before. You never expected things to go this way but you were happy. You turned in his hold for a little, and watched him sleep. He looked so peaceful, like all the worries that weighed heavy on his shoulders were gone. You loved seeing him like this and you silently vowed to yourself to try and help him feel like that more often. You leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on his lips before deciding to get up for the day. It was going to be a long day and you felt it in your bones.

Now..

Slowly pushing Whiskey's arm off of you, you stood, stretching and wincing. There was a dull ache between your legs and you willed it away. He had gone rough on you, taking you several times, barely any time to breath. He had missed you just as much as you missed him and he showed just how desperate he was for you. You didn't think a man of his age would have that much stamina. You knew there was a huge age gap between the two of you. Big enough to where you could pass as his daughter. But the two of you didn't care. You loved each other and that was enough. Walking over to the mirror to rub any makeup smears away, you stared at your body, seeing all of the bruises, hickeys, and bite marks Whiskey had left on your skin. Ginger was definitely going to give you shit for returning to the agency like this. It didn't help that the bastard left them on every surface that couldn't be covered by your outfit. 

You changed quickly, slipping on your shorts and simple black tank top back on. You found your cowboy boots, sitting on the edge of the bed to put them on. As you pulled the first one onto your foot, you felt a thick arm wrap around your torso, your shoulder being kissed delicately. "Morning baby girl." You hummed as his deep voice was rougher from just waking up. 

"Morning baby." 

"What time is it?" You slipped on your other boot, standing up and turning to face your lover as he sat there sleepily. 

"It's 9:30. We should catch up with Eggsy and head back before Champ has our heads." Whiskey nodded as he kissed the back of your head before getting up, walking around in his naked glory. You couldn't help but stare at him. Even though you spent the night making love to him, seeing him still brought a deep blush to your face. He noticed this and smirked, walking over to pull you into his arms as he kissed you roughly. 

"Still can't get enough of you." You laughed and pushed him back, trying to put a stern face. 

"Stop it. If you keep touching me, we'll never leave this tent." Whiskey chuckled as he shook his head, collecting his clothes that were tossed all around. 

"Who said I wanted to leave when I can have you all to myself?" You bit your lip and you looked at him as he slipped his jeans on, not buttoning them yet, leaving them hanging low on his hips. He knew you were watching him and he thrived under your stare. 

"Soon Jack. This mission will be over and we can have some time to… catch up." Whiskey raised an eyebrow and smirked as he finished getting dressed. You bent down, collecting the rest of your things as Whiskey moved quick, slapping your ass. You squeaked out at the sudden contact, glaring at him. Truth be told, you loved when he spanked you but if he kept teasing you, you really weren't going to leave anytime soon. 

Whiskey behaved himself as you finished getting ready, and you met up with Eggsy at the jet. He gave you a curious look as he stared at your skin. Eggsy wasn't going to question how you got those, Whiskey's smug smile was enough of an indicator. Whiskey smiled cockily, the smug bastard knowing exactly what he did. He laid his claim on you. You flew back to Kentucky and met up with Ginger in her lab. She showed you how the tracker was online and updated you on Tequila's condition. "So, Gin are you going to tell me what happened at Glastonbury?" 

You rubbed the back of your neck before clearing your throat. "I talked to Whiskey and he, uh, well, we caught up." Ginger looked at you concerned but she saw the way your eyes lit up when you talked about Whiskey. She had watched you suffer and she didn't want you to fall down the same hole you did. You placed your hand on her shoulder and you smiled genuinely. "He said he loved me Ginge... You and I both know he wouldn't ever say it unless he meant it." 

Ginger smiled softly, placing her hand on top of yours in reassurance. "Just be careful Gin." 

"I will." You placed a soft kiss on her cheek before walking off towards your sleeping quarters, knowing a restless Whiskey was waiting for you. A few days after arriving, news of the lepidopterist regaining his memory circled around the agency. Eggsy and Merlin were ecstatic, circling the poor man as he came to. You didn't blame them. They had lost everyone and the fact that they had their friend back was good news. You had bonded with the brit during his stay. He taught you many things about butterflies and sometimes when you needed a silent company, you would visit his room and sit with him as he studied his butterflies. Now that he regained his memories, the boys wanted to catch him up.

The five of you decided to go out for a drink, driving down to the closest bar near the agency. You all slid into one booth, Whiskey, you, and Harry on one side and Eggsy and Merlin on the other. Whiskey was taking a sip of his drink as he moved his hand on your thigh just as Eggsy finished catching Harry up. “Now that we've finished the debrief, Harry… Here's a couple of welcome back gifts. First up… a brand-new Kingsman watch. Advanced software, it can hack into anything with a microchip. It is bollocks.” Eggsy held up a fancy looking watch, handing it over to Harry as he looked at it a bit amused, slipping it on.  And Merlin…”

“I made you these.” Merlin placed a glasses case on the table in front of Harry and smiled, as he watched him grab it. Harry opened the case and let out a soft ‘ha’ as he looked down at the glasses. He placed the case down, pulling off his eyepatch leaving the air thick. Eggsy swallowed thickly as he tried to meet Harry’s eyes but was having a hard time, sharing a look of concern with Merlin. You tried to act casual as you leaned further into Whiskey, seeking his warmth. He responded automatically, wrapping his arm around you and placing a kiss on your head.

Harry placed the glasses and looked around the table. “Thank you, Merlin, Eggsy. How do I look?”

“You look…” Eggsy held up the ‘OK’ sign with his fingers as Merlin was going to compliment him but your peace was interrupted. 

“Like some faggot lookin' for an eye fuckin'. Now… why don't you get out of our bar...before I take out your other one?” Everyone looked up at Moonshine with disdain. You, however, looked up in confusion. You had never seen him behave so crass. Moonshine was a fellow agent who didn’t take well to outside visitors, especially other agents. 

“Now, is that any way to welcome visitors from out of town, Moonshine?” You cleared your throat as his eyes landed on you, unashamedly checking you out. Everyone at the table noticed the way he was eyeing you, including an irritated Whiskey. He stiffened next to you and you laid your hand on his thigh, calming him a bit. Moonshine chuckled before focusing his attention back on Harry. 

“Okay. Suck my southern dick...bitch.” 

Harry looked completely taken back as he murmured back respectfully. “Oh, I don't think that'll be necessary. Good day, sir.” Harry grabbed his umbrella and slowly stood, walking past Moonshine towards the entrance of the bar. 

“Well? What are you ladies waitin' for?” You glared Moonshine down as you were about to retort but Harry’s voice echoed throughout the room. 

“Manners…” Harry started to handle every lock on the door with every word. “Maketh…” You raised an eyebrow in his direction, having a feeling of where this was going and you didn’t think it was a good idea. ”Man. Do you know what that means?” Most of the men at the bar had stood, standing defensively with Moonshine. Harry stared them down from a reflective frame on the wall.  “Then let me teach you a lesson.” Everything happened so quick from Harry grabbing the glass cup with his umbrella to unsuccessfully throwing it at Moonshine. The cup flew past his head straight towards you. Whiskey was quick and caught the cup before it hit you. You looked at the cup, to Whiskey, and then to Eggsy and Merlin in concern. You looked back at Harry seeing him a bit disoriented. Whiskey gave Harry an irritated glance at the fact that he almost hurt you. 

“Harry, sugar, maybe you shouldn’t-”

Harry ignored you as he was focused on the men. “Are we going to stand around here all day? Or are we going to-” Before Harry could finish talking, one of the men lunged for him, punching him in the face. Harry went flying into the bar, trying to catch his bearings. Whiskey rubbed his lip with his thumb and watched as the men started to fight with Harry. He was successful in landing a couple of blows into a few but he was easily getting overpowered and losing. One of the men used Harry’s umbrella against him, landing heavy blows to his face. Whiskey had slipped out of the booth, quick using his lasso to pull out Harry from the fight. Harry landed next to the booth as Whiskey started to round up his lasso. 

“Well, pick him up.” He motioned to Eggsy and Merlin. They were quick to grab Harry and help him into another booth. You stood up, next to Whiskey as he spoke. “Now, that is not what I call a Kentucky welcome.” You giggled quietly as the men stared at the both of you in confusion. You tipped your hat back just a bit, watching their confused stares turn into smirks at the sight of you. It made your blood boil. “Manners maketh man, ain’t that right baby?”

“Sure is, sugar. Thing is, I don’t think these men are smart enough to understand. We should translate it for ‘em.”

“You read my mind darlin.” One of the men had deemed you an easier target and he ran after you, screaming as he had his fist out but Whiskey was quicker and he threw his lasso at him, roping him, throwing him against the bar. Another man with a knife ran after Whiskey. He opened the loop of his lasso, jumping through as he tightened it around the man’s wrist, hitting the knife out of his hand with his elbow. He landed a punch before throwing his lasso to grab the flying knife. He caught it effortlessly and you laughed, watching him. 

“Show off.” Whiskey laughed as he whipped his rope in the air with the knife, throwing it towards his next victim, the knife embedded itself into the man’s shoulder. He pulled the man with great force towards the bar. The man hit it hard and his cries of pain mixed in with the others. 

“Only for you baby girl.” You ran towards Moonshine, using your small form to your advantage as he tried to punch you but you avoided every throw like it was second nature. Of course, in your case, it was. You jumped on a nearby table, using it as a force to throw you in Moonshine’s direction as you swing your leg, landing a brutal kick in his face. You landed swiftly on the floor, preparing for the next guy. Whiskey dropped his lasso, pulling out his whip. He lashed it against the floor, filling the room with the loud sounds of it cracking. You stood back and watched as he hit every man with the whip, the men screaming in pain. You bit your lip as you watched him, hating to admit this was turning you on more than it should. Whiskey noticed this and smirked as he took a second to flick the whip in your direction, hitting you in the ass. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt you but it definitely got your attention. 

“H-hey!” Whiskey laughed as he wrapped the whip around one of the men’s necks. 

“This one’s for you pretty lady.” Whiskey used a lot of his strength to fling the man towards you. You smiled widely as the man went flying towards you. You jumped in time to punch him in his chest, making him fall and smash his head against the pool table. Soon, you both found your rhythm. If a man came for Whiskey’s back, you’d swiftly cut in and punch the guy hard in his neck, watching as he fell to the floor, clutching his neck in pain as he tried to catch his breath. Whiskey did the same, protecting you from any unwanted harm. You were both ruthless. You were considered one of the best teams across the agencies. When you two paired up, it was almost impossible to break through. 

You knew you couldn’t kill any of the men or else Champ would have your head. So you stuck to your fists and Whiskey to his whip. One of the men threw a chair at you but Whiskey was quick and grabbed it with his whip, throwing it back at the man, sending him flying through the window. 

“That was hot.” Whiskey erupted into a loud laugh, his shoulders shaking violently as he tried to catch his breath. He pulled you in for a rough kiss before pulling back and looking around the room, the bodies of the unconscious men surrounding you. 

“Whoo, I feel like a tornado in a trailer park.” You were about to retort but Poppy’s broadcasted message interrupted you. You watched in horror realizing that the effects that Tequila was having were because of Poppy’s horrible drugs. Once the message was over, you all drove back to the agency as fast as you could, meeting Champ in the main room. You listened to the President as he spoke about how he wanted to handle the situation, leaving you in shock. 

“Fox, shut up. McCoy, declare Marshall Law. We need to keep control, commandeer stadiums, schools, civic centers. Order a press blackout and put the military on standby to round these junkies up.”

“Whether they broke the law or not, those victims are human beings. Tequila,” You watched as Champ looked over his alcohol before picking one, grabbing a glass. “He's a great guy. And a great agent. Right now, he's lying in deep-freeze waitin' on our help.” You swallowed thickly, staring at the table. You didn’t know what you’d do if Tequila passed away. He was one of your best friends. Whiskey noticed your tense nature and he took a deep breath, trying to lighten the situation for your sake but he didn’t go about it too well. 

“We can't make this personal, sir.

“Personal? Agent, we can't stand by and let folks like him die. These people, we're their only hope. Now, we have to find that antidote.” Whiskey sighed as he looked up, noticing Harry analyzing him. He didn’t pay much attention to him, soon moving his focus back to you as he held your hand in his. You took a deep breath, pulling Whiskey’s hand onto your lap. He rubbed his thumbs against your soft skin, sending goosebumps across the surface. 

Champ took a sip of his drink before turning and spitting it into a nearby tin. “Poppy's stockpiles, well, they could be anywhere.” Whiskey gripped your thigh in comfort as you watched Champ sympathetically. You knew he was battling with his own addiction and this was his way of dealing. 

“She must have some on hand. Locate Poppy and obtain a sample for analysis. Maybe it can be replicated.” Eggsy and Harry exchanged glances of confusion as they watched Champ but they chose not to comment. You took a deep breath as you kept quiet. It wasn’t like you but your head was swirling with thoughts of the disease and of Tequila. 

Soon, your thoughts were interrupted by Ginger’s voice echoing through the room. “Sorry to cut in, guys. But Charlie is on the phone with his girlfriend. Looping you in now.” She appeared on the large screen in the room with Merlin by her side before she changed the screen to display the soundwaves of Clara talking to Charlie and her location on the map. 

“Don't worry. I'm on a payphone covered in a fucking blue rash. Why didn't you tell me? All you said was, "Don't take any drugs." It was a music festival for fuck's sake.” You rolled your eyes as you listened. You already didn’t like her from your last mission and this was just solidifying that dislike. 

“Fuck. Shit. Shit! Okay. Listen. You need to get to the lab in Italy. Do you remember where we went skiing?”

“Yes. Yes, I remember.”

“Yeah. Meet me there and I'll give you the antidote.”

Clara’s deep sigh filled the room before she mumbled an okay, hanging the call right after

“All right. Jet's ready. Whiskey, Gin, Galahad, get to Italy.” You nodded your understanding and as you looked up, you saw both Eggsy and Harry standing up, looking at each other awkwardly. Eggsy smirked and you knew he wanted to laugh. You watched them both curiously as Whiskey spoke up.

“You two need to fix this code name thing.” He leaned over to Champ as he motioned towards Harry. “And with all due respect, sir… I don't think Galahad senior is ready to return to fieldwork.”

Champ nodded his agreement as he pointed towards Eggsy. “I did actually mean…”

“Of course.” You gave Harry a sympathetic smile and he returned a small smile in return. Even though he recovered his memories, he still remembered your kindness and trustiness for him. He remembered the things you told him about your life, the quiet evenings you spent together, the way you talked about the “man” who hurt you. It didn’t take a genius to figure out it was Whiskey you were talking about and he had his disagreements with you returning to his side but he chose not to say anything on it, respectfully leaving you to make your own decision. 

“And with all disrespect… I'm not going anywhere without him.” Eggsy sat down next to Harry as he motioned towards him. Both Champ and Whiskey looked at Eggsy with different thoughts running around their heads. One thing you respected was Eggsy’s undying loyalty. You knew this was a hard trait to come by and with the way he was protective of you already on missions, you trusted him. “Brains,” He motioned to Harry before motioning to himself. “Skills,” He looked at you and winked as he motioned towards you. “Bad-assery.” You snorted as his comment brought a smile to your lips, giving you a bit of relief from the entire situation. Eggsy looked at Whiskey and took a second to think of what he wanted to say. “Skipping rope?”

Whiskey clenched his jaw as he stared Eggsy down, before moving his gaze to Champ who went into a deep laugh. You couldn’t contain your smile and you covered your mouth with your hand, hoping Whiskey didn’t hear your muted giggles. Whiskey glared at you as he spoke, his deep baritone voice sending shivers your way. You knew you were going to pay for laughing. “It's a lasso.’

“Whatever. Come on.” Eggsy stood, looking to Harry to follow him as Whiskey watched them both as Champ continued to laugh before dismissing the both of you. 

“Go on. Vamoose.”

“Yes, sir.”

Forever Tags: @iwantthedean @authoressskr @sorenmarie87 @reigningqueenofwords @goldenolaf25 @giftofdreams @winchesterprincessbride @chelsea072498 @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @itakeawfultoawholenewlevel @fictionalabyss @gabby913 @angelkurenai @sea040561 @sleepylunarwolf @smoothdogsgirl @carryonmyswansong @feelmyroarrrr @evyiione @sofreddie @sis-tafics @nitelotus @trexrambling  @manawhaat @mermaidxatxheart @winchest09 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @mrswhozeewhatsis @just-another-busy-fangirl @lovebodymindstuff @backseat-of-deans-67chevy @chook007 @akshi8278 @evansrogerskitten @bringmesomepie56 @persephonehemingway @blacktithe7 @donnaintx @queenxxxsupreme @whitewolfandthefox @riviawitch3r

Agent Whiskey Tags: @thesadvampire @le-roman-rose @mcudisiac @someone-take-my-bagelseverywhere @chibi-liz05 @marvel-avengers01 @themandjalorian @floccodineveautunnale @jassiepoohbear @gollyderek @retrobhaddie @wolf-lover74 @paryl @laubeck10 @ithinkwehitametaphor @wizard-b1tch @domino-oh-damn @c-ly-g @rosamedina92 @sunshinepascal @ariespedro @libellule2001 @ohpedromypedro @two-unbeatable-beaters @menacingmandalorian @scribbledghost @blushingwueen

Tags I Think Would Be Interested: @spacegayofficial @ariasfandom @lannister-slings-and-arrows @sendhoots @stevieharrrr @dindjarindiaries @hiscyarika @qveenbvtch @forever-rogue @jimmythegirl  @catfishingmorales @generaldamneron @cptnbvcks @swhiskeys @honeychicanawrites  @thepascalorian @ladydahliawrites @roboboyjinx-writes @zeldasayer @damerondjarin @aint-that-a-mcfreakin-bitch @aerynwrites @mandadoration  @absurdthirst @huliabitch  @gryffindorwriter @ghostofthebarricade @astrolo-galaxy @siempre-pedro @cherryplasmids @spacedadheadcanons @madadlorian @sithlordmando @bubble-tea-bunny @beskarsexual @longitud-de-onda @archieimagines @outfatuating  @inknopewetrust @softpedropascal​ @pascalisthepunkest​ @swimmingbyrd​ @buckyodinson​ @everstarry​ @waywardodysseys​ @paniclana​ @tiffdawg​ @siempre-pedro​ @fandom-imagines-stories @umbrellasandlassos​ @kingsmanstories​ @bucks-angels​ @the-real-xhorse 

[rogerdaltreysautomatacollection]

Transcript of Roberts live Facebook Q&A, 9th September 2014

RP: Amazing questions guys. We’ll be starting any minute. Keep them coming!

Q: Why were you ringing that bell in the ice water challenge ????

RP: What bell?

Q: Do you believe that hard rock is dead?

RP: Is there a pulse?

Q: What are some of the great journeys you have travelled while creating the new album? And how do they differ from your previous solo work?

RP: Perhaps it was the cardinal journey, it’s called going home. And as far as any different, my whole life and times are perpetual emotion. I was blessed with a passport recompass.

Q: Dear Robert……loved the Glasto set…… sometimes you were “elsewhere” it seemed…what kind of thoughts you through your mind when singing? Love and power to you…David

RP: I’ve played Glastonbury many times, in fact I’ve played in that area in the 60s, before Glasto, and sometimes, all of those experiences channel through me for a second or two, and with the passing of time, I was wondering if it was really the Veil of Avalon, and if Joseph of Arimathea was waiting for Metallica.

Q: What was the inspiration for the album cover , I received it today , it’s fantastic xx

RP: It is the home of the Ceaseless Roar

Q: what lullabies does Robert Plant sing to his grandchildren?

RP: The theme for Match of the Day

Q: Do you think your journey through the Mississippi Delta pushed you to keep moving in the music industry, inspired by the ageless musicians of that era?

RP: Yes. But now, my heroes are ghosts.

Q: what’s your favourite venue ever played?

RP: These days, I love playing Red Rocks in Colorado, but when I was a kid, I had no idea where fate would take me so any place with a microphone worked for me.

Q: What sparked your interest in ethnic music and folk music traditions from all over the world?

RP: I lived with a girl from India when I was an impressionable teenager.

Q: Would you consider working with Jack White at Third Man Records to record a single/album/anything? You two are my favourite artists and I would love to see you work together

RP: I love Jack White’s buccaneer spirit, and the way he dodges through the musical horizons. I’d be happy to make a single with him. I’d like to do a track called ‘Love Me’ which was originally recorded by The Phantom. In fact, I’m going to Nashville on Sunday and can do it on Monday morning! I’ve got lunch with Alison Krauss at 2pm and cocktails with Patty Griffin at 8pm.

Q: How long will you carry on playing Sunday football, and do you fancy playing The World Famous Railway Tavern in Brightlingsea (at footplay)? Our teams ages range from 19 to 59.

RP: My management company is concerned about my health, though I am available on Wednesday evenings.

RP: -- P.S. I am an overlapping fullback.

Q: Has the heart and soul been taken out of football?

RP: Times have changed, when I were a lad, our footballers travelled to the stadium on the bus with the fans. I haven’t seen Ronaldo on the way to Wolverhampton on the Midland Red 318 lately.

Q: Hey Robert..I was a young girl, do you remember having dinner in Disney world on the steam boat I walk up to you and said something stupid..your hold band laugh….if you remember let me know that’s one one of my regrets in life!!

RP: Everything that comes out of my mouth is relatively stupid, so I probably wouldn’t have recognised your supposed error. It’s always lovely to meeting a young woman on a boat.

Q: Robert, please advise me on which cider and cob combination to have at the Anchor pub in Cornsal?? Cheers!!

RP: Stick with the Heritage! and make sure you have a telephone number of a great taxi fir

Q: If you could reveal to us one secret, what would it be? For some of us, all has yet to be revealed.

RP: Holidaying in Madagascar, I tried my luck as a cross dresser. It was before the beard.

RP: Howdy pop pickers!

Q: I have always loved the photo of you and Strider on a vintage bike. Do you have a four legged companion and/or motorcycle now?

RP: I have a beautiful, four legged Bedlington Greyhound cross Lurcher. His name is Arthur. He was 6 recently.

Q: Robert I know this might sound like a crazy question but I am just curious.. I am a huge tea drinker as you are… my favourite is Earl Grey w/ lemon and honey .. what is yours?

RP: Nilgiri tea from the town Ooty, where the game of Snooker was invented.

Q: You’re on death row, they will allow you to listen to one song before you die…only one…what’s it gonna be?

RP: Nervous Breakdown by Eddie Cochran

Q: Will you marry me?

RP: Send full details. You’ll be right after Jack White.

Q: If ever a movie was made based on your life, who would you pick to portray you???

RP: Zaza Gabor

RP: Thanks for all the questions. Here’s my brand new music video for Rainbow (link to Rainbow video from The Colbert Report)

Pssst @firethatgrewsolow 😉

[tunafishprincess]

Hunter Prince (Dark Medieval Fantasy AU fanfic).

Chapter 1: Darkness before Dawn  

Two households, both alike in dignity. (Romeo and Juliet, Act 1, Prologue, Shakespeare)

The remains of the human army were scattered against the grounds of the small village. A particularly gruesome image if he ever saw one. 

Not for long, he thought with a grimace, as members of their forces crept in to take whatever scraps they could find. The sound of bones crunching and tendons popping nearly made him vomit on the spot. The pungent smell of the dead did not help matters. No doubt the entire place would be cleared before daybreak, the bellies of his countrymen filled and ready for the return march ahead. 

He adjusted the sword at his hip. It was too large for someone his size, stuck between man and troll, but he could use it well enough. Years of training had prepared him for this. 

His upper lip snagged his tusks. By the Void, he wished his teacher were here. Alas, Blinkous of Galadrigalia would not step anywhere near a battlefield of this sort. Too many bad memories and old wounds, he told the boy as he aided him into his armor. Though the troll knew all the ins and outs of swordplay, he refused to pick one up, preferring the company of books and his students to the glory of war and conquest so many of their kind revered. 

Alas, unlike his dear tutor his fate left him no room to avoid this type of work. It was times like these he wished he’d been born of another destiny, one where his status and birth didn’t determine his lot in life. 

Fog clung to the earth and sky, drenching the area in miserable dampness. Even within the chainmail and furs the biting cold snuck into his veins, burrowing inside like sparrows at the advent of winter. He shivered as another frigid wind tore through the lines of soldiers, so howling and fierce he almost believed it to be alive. Perhaps they were. More than once his mother spoke of the old gods. 

He wondered if the weather was indicative of their current mood. Out of respect, he whispered a small prayer. It was the least he could do. 

Half-frozen mud squished beneath his feet. As a child he heard wondrous tales about the Grand Canals of Arcadia, yet to see it in person left him rather disillusioned. Of course, by Spring this narrow, barren valley would be a rushing river, carrying the winter snows out towards the southern seas, but now it was little more than a makeshift border between these territories. 

His gaze rested on the town before him. Though he lacked the intellect of his mentor he understood well enough their reasons for this ‘visit.’ 

Dying embers rose from the makeshift chimney as the night’s frost glistened off the roofs and doors. As the troops searched the area for food, weapons and mead, he could not help but feel a tinge of sadness.

Humanity had slowly been encroaching on their lands due to the excess of ore and salt deposits, huge commodities in a kingdom that survived largely off of cattle and farmland. Twas no wonder that within a few years several new settlements had sprung up across the boundary, despite their warnings of retaliation.

But this was only supposed to be a skirmish. A scare tactic, nothing more. Instead, his father’s forces had massacred the entire population.

Crimson mixed with dirt and early morning frost. Here and there he saw them, those who fought thrown haphazardly across the mud and those who tried to flee huddled and died together in small piles. While tradition deemed the enemy warriors to be burned, the soldiers of this regimen did not adhere to such rules, taking what they liked however they pleased instead.

He opened his eyes and then closed them; it mattered not. His stomach lurched. 

A large hand covered his mouth.

It was not his own. 

He stilled. Seconds ticked by before the wielder bent down, gruffly remarking into his ear, “Do not sully our sire’s reputation, half-blood. Purge your conscious elsewhere. Tis no place for the battlefield, especially our own.”

A battlefield was it? He wanted to laugh but found no energy to do so. Instead, he swallowed back his emotions, tilting his head upwards to face the other. 

“I’ll do no such thing, brother.” He added softly, “I am a warrior.”

Bular shot him a doubtful glance. “Is that what your nursemaid tells you?”

He regarded the other in annoyance. While others would be cowed by his elder brother’s fearsome regalia (the blood-colored armor a stark contrast against the gloomy landscape), he held his head high, refusing to back down. 

“Blinkous is not my nursemaid. He knows more about tactics and battles than you ever will.”

“Tactics mean nothing in the heat of battle. It is brute strength that decides the victor, not fancy parlor tricks and maneuvers.”

“If that were true, you would have won the Battle of Killahead and the Battle of Glastonbury Tor,” he pointed out, tongue sharp and ready to cut. Eager to best his brother through the only medium he could, he continued, “Now, is there a particular reason you have graced me with your most honored presence? After all, we all know what a comforting elder brother you are.” Without thinking he ended his counter with a barb. “I almost wish her Highness were with us today to see what loving siblings we’ve become. Perhaps then she would allow you to return to court.”

Darkness swept over his brother’s features as pallor overtook his own. 

An insult like that would not go without reparations. Though Bular was his elder, there was no love lost between the two. Losing face in court had drastically damaged the other’s reputation and rising stardom amongst the ranks of their kingdom’s military. Their sire had seen to it that Bular had a legion to command, but he would never regain the powers he once wielded so long as he and the Queen continued to be on the outs.

The same Queen who bore him.

He scowled, eyes burning like bright coals in the night. “Mind your words. The next time you act so brazen I will not hesitate to remove one of your horns, shared blood or not.”

He nodded curtly. As loathe as he was to admit it, he should have stayed quiet. Had they been common Gumm-Gumms, only one of them would still be standing at such an affront. 

Bular leaned forward, claws tightening around his head as he spoke. “The Queen and her elk may choose to coddle you but I will not. It is I who am in charge here, not you. Your bearer can keep her impure minions in her so-called court for all I care.” His eyes narrowed. “From the look on your face, I can already tell I’ve wasted too much time in bothering to try and teach you. Know this, little brother: the only reason you stand here is at father’s request. Remember that.”

Without warning Bular yanked him by the hair at his nape so that he fell backward. His brother’s followers chuckled at the display.

How humiliating. Cheeks burning, he quickly returned to his feet, storming off in the opposite direction, lest he made more of an embarrassment of himself amongst his brother’s soldiers.

It was a familial power play and one Bular would always win. While he was faster than the older male he could not hope to match his brother’s brute strength and height.

No matter how smart or cunning he could try to be, he would always be half-flesh.

James, Son of House Lake, First of his Name, Heir to Two Thrones—it was an endless list of empty titles. Here, on the “battlefield” and in front of his father’s battalion, Bular and his army saw him as nothing more than a whelp playing soldier. 

A bitter sigh escaped his lips.

He was starting to wonder if they were right. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Death nipped at their heels. Her ally’s fatal injury didn’t help matters. He limped behind, holding the wound at his chest with his dominant hand while the other scrambled for purchase up the steep hilled terrain. 

The tall beautiful trees that greeted their arrival now sent a shiver down her spine, no longer so beautiful and majestic as she’d been led to believe. Stepping into the forest had robbed them of sense and direction, the burning village behind them their only indication of navigation. Not even a full moon could penetrate the dense canopy above them, which rustled and swayed like the sea.

These were not the lands of her brethren. She’d been born on Arcadian grounds, far inside the midlands where the capital stood. The forests there were colorful, evergreens and cedars that happily shaded the berry bushes she once plucked from as a child.

She knew she’d passed the boundaries but the look of the landscape. Here, the woodlands were dark, primal and contorted in manners she had never seen. No berry bush or fruit-bearing could ever hope to grow in harsh lands such as these.

Branches snagged at her cloak, threatening to impede her every step. 

Claire bit back a sob. It was all her fault. If only they had kept moving instead of resting for the night. But she had underestimated her enemies’ desperation. The assassin struck right as the armies across the border arrived, leaving them no time to regroup or find a healer.

Not that Sir Kanjigar could recover from such a wound. They’d been lucky he’d not petrified immediately, though she wondered if that would have been a better fate than the encroaching death before her. 

She clutched her chest as he finally keeled over.

“No, you must get up!” She said, joining his side. “We can still make it.”

Inwardly, she knew it was a fruitless endeavor, but the innocent young girl she was before all this still clung to the faint hope that everything would turn out well and good. 

“I’m afraid this is where our journey ends, milady,” he said, grunting as the poison worked its way through his system. “A thousand apologies.”

She shook her head. Wetness gathered at the corners of her eyes. Sir Kanjigar had been all she had left. She had left everything behind for this. 

Her hands clutched at his chest. “No, this is not where you shall spend your final breath, Sir,” she ordered, hoping she sounded as authoritative as her birthright.  Listen to me: you are the Trollhunter. You have survived countless battles. We will find a healer, but you must get up. Think of Trollmarket. Think of Draal. They would be lost without you. I would be lost without you.”

“It is not—"

“I will not allow you to die. I forbid it!”

She could barely stand to look him in the eyes. They both knew what was to come.

Her fist smacked against his cold ground, again and again, until at last, he spoke. 

“Milady,” he wheezed. “Enough.”

He lifted her chin with his remaining hand. It pained her to see him in such a state. 

Sir Kanjigar of Trollmarket was like no other. He was a battle-scarred old warrior, face etched with the centuries of service he’d provided both kingdoms. Countless Nuñez had relied on his aid and counsel throughout the years. It broke her heart to think she would be the last.  

“I cannot take you the rest of the way,” he stated, stroking her face like her father once did. “You must part with me. The longer you stay here the faster our pursuers can find you. My son…will live on. The Amulet will find a new champion; it always has. But you must hurry. Dawn will break soon. Our liaison lies a day’s journey to the north of the sunrise, just beyond this forest. Get there. You will know him when you see him. He will take you to safety.”

Her chest shook, body numb and unwieldy. “This isn’t fair. I can’t do this without you.”

“You must. The fate of your family and the kingdoms obligates you.”

The amulet began to blink. Slowly, he removed the device from his chest, the magic dissipating from his body. Her throat seized at the sight. The poison had spread throughout his upper and lower halves. 

“May the Grace of Daya guide you through the Void to your ancestors,” she recited as she took his last gift.

His lips perked up as his vision began to fade into white. “And…may the Mother guard you…for all your days.”

She nodded. She could not look away as he gave his last breaths, determined to stay by his side. 

It was in this small moment she allowed herself to grieve. Grieve for her family’s misfortune, grief for her inability to protect her kingdom and people, and grieve for the lives lost in order to get her this far. 

Her gaze flickered to the sky. His words proved true; dawn was coming. She didn’t have much time. 

“Goodbye dear friend,” she whispered, wiping her tears before setting off on her journey.

Her feet scurried across the cold forest floor. Leaves scattered in their wake. Now, without her protector, the forest took on a more sinister nature. The hairs on her neck prickled in dread as she traveled silently through these woods. Every sound made her heart lurch. Though she knew it merely her mind playing tricks, she could not help but think of the assassin, and whether or not he brought any others.

No, she could do this. Her fingers squeezed the amulet within the folds of her robes. The cold metal reminded her of what she must do.

Though her heart bled for the lives lost, she willed herself to go forward. Once she found a safe place she would properly mourn her fallen comrade. For now, however, she needed to move.

A sound intruded, wrestling her out of deep thought.

She didn’t even have time to scream when the creator of the noise came upon her. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

She squirmed within his grasp. Jim adjusted his hold. The human was petite, but her eyes held a ferocity that promised far more than what she could likely give.

“Unhand me, fiend!” She hissed.

Had it been any other day he would have. Humans were a strange sort. Though his mother imbodied their appearance, she was of another sort of being all together, born of magicks and a world no longer accessible to their kind. It was one of the reasons his sire took her hand after all. 

Amongst others. 

But today was different. Whereas before he had placed humanity out of his mind, now, after the carnage, an unsettling sensation of responsibility weighed down upon him. She had not caused this battle. Her only fault was being the wrong species in the wrong place. If Bular or one of his soldiers found her she would be carved up and eaten like the rest.

And Jim could not allow that to happen. 

Leaves crunched beneath unforgiving feet. The marching had begun. Quickly, he pulled her behind a thicket of gathered trees, hoping his scent would cover her own. 

“Please stay silent, miss,” he whispered. “They will hear you otherwise.”

Her body tensed at his words. Around them, the procession grew louder. Armor clinked together, held in rhythm to the vibrating beat of their drums and deep barking songs. He dare not translate the words to the human, knowing what revulsion they would bring. 

He could not help but examine her. The night was dark but his eyesight blessed him the vision before him. Dark windswept hair framed her heart-shaped face, highlighting the contours of her cheeks and rose-colored lips. While he had little experience with human ages, he guessed her to be near his own more or less.

His heart thumped wildly against his chest. This was the first time he had ever been so close to a maiden. He wanted to speak, to impress her with his knowledge of her native tongue, but instead kept quiet, desperately wishing not to embarrass himself in front of her. 

As the marching began to fade, he loosened his hold on her. It was only just. She quickly pulled away; he let her. A few tense seconds fast before she broke it with her words. 

“How could they?” she spat, fingers clenched around the sides of her cloak. “Honorless barbarians. They were only miners and their families and they slaughtered them.”

He lifted an eyebrow, realizing she knew not who or what he was.

He would have found it refreshing, if he wasn’t so overcome with guilt. 

“Can’t say I disagree at this point,” he mumbled, throat tightening at her remark. 

Was this what being a warrior was about? Jim bit the inside of his cheek. More than once he had sat at the foot of his sire, listening to the tales of old, when magic ran wild and honorable knights protected their kingdoms. Every battle had a story, a purpose, and an ending. Even the Battle of Killahead had its place in his father’s halls, sung to bring about nostalgic melancholy in those there and not there.

So where was the glory in murdering these innocents? How had a border skirmish broken out into slaughter?

It set him on edge. 

By the Void.  Jim shook his head. He could scarcely believe what had happened. This was his first excursion with the company and he hoped it his last. Being put in his brother’s battalion had been a foolish error on the head advisor’s part. Not that anyone could persuade the troll outside the king himself. Sir Dictatious was the complete opposite of his brother.

It was no wonder they hated each other. 

The girl continued to rant. “How dare they attack Arcadian soil. Do they want to start another war with the kingdoms?” Her voice grew hoarse. “Does the Treaty of Avalon mean nothing now?”

“A war would be most disagreeable for everything I should think,” he answered.

She blinked, cheeks reddening as she straightened out her linens to curtsy. 

“Excuse my manners. Thank you for your assistance. I am utmost in your debt. With whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”

With whom indeed. Jim glanced at her outfit and features. This was no peasant, he gathered, but someone more highborn, though how much so he could not determine by sight alone. While her cloak was ratty and riddled with holes the cloth beneath was well-made, shielding her from the Darkland winds. She lacked the pockmarks and blemishes other humans tended to carry too. 

His eyes widened as he realized how quiet he had been. He coughed into his hand, head bobbing. “It’s Jim, milady.”

“Thank you, Jim. It’s good to know I’m not the only one who survived.”

He winced. She believed him human. He supposed, in the darkness, night-blindness would suggest it as such. While taller than most of their kind he was significantly shorter than a majority of trolls. 

“You’re traveling alone?” He asked. Perhaps he could return her to her group before she realized who he was.

She paused, shoulders shaking. “My companion…He didn’t make it.”

“My deepest apologies,” he said and he meant it sincerely. “Is there anything I can do? A lady such as yourself shouldn’t be out here alone. Where are you heading to? Perhaps I can lead you there.”

Already he formulated a plan to get her away, far from the Gumm-Gumms that still lingered in these forests. 

It would have worked, he could have gotten her as close to her destination before disappearing at daybreak, if something else hadn’t spoken up instead, breaking the fragile peace between them.

James of House Lake.

Instantly, he drew back, back ramrod straight at the power the voice possessed. It chilled him to the bone, clinging to his eardrums in a soft echoing whisper. He knew not where it came until the girl fished it from her robes. He thought it one of Blinky’s strange time devices until he noticed the pulsating blue magic that lay beneath its metallic parts.

“Did,” he began in a breathless manner, “Did that thing just say my name?”

Her brows furrowed. She held the circular object out plainly, squinting as she looked between it and himself. 

“But it’s never chosen…who are you?” She asked, pressing forward.

Jim accidentally backed into one of the trees, horns biting into the bark. A familiar scent was picked up through the air, coupled with equally familiar footfalls.

His breath caught in his throat. Through the blackness, he could see the figure approach.

A haphazard plan based on foolishness and Gumm-Gumm tradition arose within him. His cheeks burned at what he was about to do. He had hoped—no, that kind of life was not accessible to one such as he. 

He looked back to the girl, confusion, and fear spreading across her face. She did not deserve this fate he would bring her, but he could not bear to see her die this day. 

“I am so very very very sorry for what I am about to do,” he said, inwardly praying to the Void for his actions. 

He muffled her scream with his gloved hand, the other tilting her neck for access.

The taste of copper met his tongue and suddenly he understood why so many of his countrymen developed a taste for it.

It was over in an instant, but he knew, somehow, that he had changed both their futures.

Whether for better or for worse was yet to be determined.

The bushes rustled behind them, branches snapping as his elder brother strode onto the scene.

Carefully, Jim lifted his mouth, wiping the red from his lips with the back of his hand. The girl below him held the nape of her neck tenderly, eyes shooting daggers at him. 

Bular regarded the two with an unimpressed brow. “Father will be most displeased when he hears of this.”

“Salutations to you, brother,” he replied.

The girl shuddered within his grasp, now likely putting together the pieces of his identity. “What have you done?” She whispered, face alike to a corpse. 

The other balanced his broadsword on his shoulder, clearly taking pleasure in Jim’s act. “A messenger arrived from the castle. Our arrival is expected.” He looked the girl up and down, measuring her with a growing sneer. “If you wanted a bloody fleshbag for your intended you should have just asked. I’m sure one of my men could have found you one with more meat on her bones than this twig.”

“It seems our taste in wenches diverges. I quite like twigs.” Jim sent his brother a cold smile, refusing to react to his insult.

Bular sniffed, features smoothing over into disinterest as he set off back towards the legion. “Have it your way.”

Once his presence was gone, the girl collapsed, her shivering now full-blown shakes. 

“This is disastrous,” she cried.

Jim shared the sentiment and wanted to voice it, but thought better of it. Scooping her up into his arms (and ignoring her feeble protests), he began his march towards home, knowing that his actions would not go unpunished.

[arthur-rex]

A Land of Myth // RP Verses & Summaries

The following are fic prompts/RP settings for Arthur Pendragon of BBC’s Merlin. Other RPers are free to use/try out any ideas, but please like/credit <3

Note: Adult themes (inc. sex, violence, incest, torture, drug abuse, etc) will be explored in some of these verses. I am trying to incorporate aspects of the Arthurian legends beyond the family-friendly BBC series ;)

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v. Once & Future ( canon verse ) summary: child!Arthur, Prince Arthur, King Arthur. This verse covers all the many stages in Arthur Pendragon's life as depicted in the BBC Merlin series, although expanded to include some new headcanons.

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v. Dragonheart King ( post-Camlann ‘Arthur lives’ ) summary: on the shores of the lake, Merlin summons Kilgharrah to beg the Great Dragon to save the life of his friend. Moved by the Dragonlord’s pleas, Kilgharrah agrees and uses magic ‘of an ancient glory’ to save Arthur’s life: lifting a scale and cleaving his own heart in two to repair Arthur’s heart which had taken the wound from Mordred’s sword. Arthur lives as the Dragonheart King, sworn to build a kingdom fit for all creatures of magic... and the greatest of these are the dragons.

- credit for this verse is basically all due to 1996′s ‘Dragonheart.’ Entirely inspired by this scene ( x ) from that film. 

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v. Takes One to Know One ( closed verse with @lespendragons ) summary: The Druids foretold of a time when royal blood would bind a divided kingdom together again. Arthur and Morgana Pendragon are unknowing siblings with a hell of destiny awaiting them.  

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v. The Last Dragonlord & his (Pen)dragon ( dragon!Arthur verse ) summary: Arthur is cursed by Kilgharrah to transform into a dragon until the sins of his father are atoned for. As the transformation grows deadly he requires Merlin's help to deal with the worst of his dragon impulses. Plot details here ( x )

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v. Duality of Fate ( identical twins verse ) summary: The two princes of Camelot are a pair. Unmistakable. Indistinguishable. No one is really sure who is who and this is something Prince Arthur and Prince Artorius will always use to their advantage. This verse covers their adventures from when they were little boys right up to the bitter bloody finale at Camlann. Plot ideas here ( x ). 

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v. The People’s Princess ( fem!Arthur verse ) Ygraine died giving birth to a girl instead of a boy. Uther never forgave Artemis for being a female. The Princess of Camelot grew up shunned and full of misguided self-loathing, until Merlin arrived and showed her the true value of herself. (Note: Merlin can be either male or female in this verse).

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v. Rex Tremendae Majestatis ( dark!Arthur verse ) summary: Arthur is crowned king and rules Camelot according to the dictates of his father. His reign of terror brings dread into the lives of those with magic, but hope for his subjects who follow the new Christian faith. For there are many people who now regard the Old Religion as satanic. Note: This is the medieval nasty version of Christianity depicted. Not the real spiritual faith.

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v. Winter is Coming ( Merlin/GOT crossover verse ) summary: The Night King has declared war against Camelot, advancing his army of the undead in his quest to claim the soul of a powerful immortal : Merlin. But King Arthur will not permit his Court Sorcerer to be sacrificed to the forces of evil. Against such a powerful enemy, even Merlin's magic has its limits. Only blades tempered in dragon fire can kill the Night King and his White Walkers. And Arthur wields the greatest of such swords: Excalibur.

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v. Hoist the Colours ( Merlin/POTC crossover verse: closed with @miladys-servant-gwen​ & @thewritcrinme​ & @sorceress-queen​) summary: Guinevere, Goddess of the Sea, was bound into the body of a human female by Uther and Kilgharrah before Arthur was born - out of fear and jealousy of her power. The Pirate Kings rightly fear the Goddess, but it will be the actions of a pirate prince, a rogue stowaway boy and a fierce pirate captain that will right the wrongs of the past. 

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MODERN REINCARNATION VERSES

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v. The Knights of Albion ( main modern verse: closed with @thelegendofemrys​ & @sorceress-queen​ & @nobilitydefined​ ) summary: Arthur and his knights are reincarnated in the present day as rock stars on the road to stardom and fame. Arthur is the lead guitarist and singer/songwriter. Gwaine is his drummer. Percival plays bass. Elyan mixes things up on the decks and Leon is on keyboard. Morgana is the band's publicist & manager. Merlin enters the scene during the group’s opening gig at Glastonbury music festival. Plot details here ( x )

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v. The Taste of Immortality ( alternative main modern verse ) summary: After the battle of Camlann, a mortally wounded Arthur is found by Morgana before Merlin can reach him. Taken to her hovel, the High Priestess performs magic invoking the darkest of devils to bring her Champion back to her. What Lilith provides for Morgana, is a vampire stripped of his moral code, allowing them both to be bound together for eternity. Warning: Incest features heavily in this verse. There’s lots of blood and darkness. Minors get out.

-credit for this verse goes to @sorceress-queen​

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v. Royal Legacies & Great Expectations ( another modern verse ) Arthur is reincarnated as the son of Uther Pendragon, CEO of the word-renown computer software company CameSoft (pronounced Cam - e - Soft. The company is the equivalent of Camelot). Worn down by the expectations of his father and the demands of the press for him to find a celebrity girlfriend, Arthur is growing increasingly lonely and agitated in Pendragon Manor. Until Merlin finds him. 

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v. Once in a Lifetime ( another modern verse ) Arthur is reincarnated as a cheeky, cheerful young actor, struggling to make ends meet in London (but remaining optimistic that it can’t be far off until his big break comes). Merlin (who has also reincarnated and is without his memories of their past lives) is another young, up & coming actor. Merlin has tracked Arthur down via a YouTube video and wants to work with him. The pair meet together on the set of a new supernatural BBC drama series where they are to guest star as recurring characters. Note: This is not Brolin but maybe takes most influence from it. 

[awilko]

14 weeks to go, my legs ache.

I have read quite a few blogs from middle aged men doing an Ironman some funny, some dull.  I am targeting the first one.  

You , dear reader, have 14 weeks of reading this mindless drivel which concludes (hopefully!) with an Ironman in Vitoria Gasteiz in Northern Spain.  This will be my third Ironman but the first time I have really had the time to focus on how to improve through well thought out training and taking ownership for what fuels it.  

If you’re not aware of the distances involved in an Ironman well fear not, I won’t bore you with them here, suffice to say it’s a long way, it’s really quite tiring, takes all day and is my third biggest sense of achievement in life.  Obviously helping to raise two amazing kids who are now fully fledged adults and navigating 3 wonderful years with Mandy come well before huffing and puffing my way round Europe.

My first writing struggle is to figure out why I am writing this, the good news is I think I’ve figured it out.  My name is Andy and I want to write a blog over the next 14 weeks for four reasons.  Two of the reasons are selfish two aren’t.  Let’s start with the selfish one’s and build up to a crescendo  of the selfless reasons.

1. I want to motivate myself to do really well.  Yep, that’s as selfish as it gets but by sharing with you hopes and targets for times it might just actually help me to achieve them.

2. I want to plug my new company Panoptic Aspects Ltd.  Having departed the sexy world of portable buildings (for now, never say never!) I have now set up a new business with an old friend Gavin Rhodes.  Panoptic Aspects  ventures into the exciting world of visual marketing and by providing 3D Virtual Tours of any building to help our clients promote their funky buildings I am sure we will have fun and provide some great tours of properties to view anywhere, anytime with the click of a mouse or tapping away at a smartphone or tablet. We had a good week last week providing two tours - firstly of a fantastic portable building containing a CT scanner and then the finest pub in Easingwold preparing for normality to resume after Covid-19.  Click on the links and have a walk round them both after you’ve done that have a look at the website. More gratuitous plugging to come!

3. Moving swiftly on to the selfless reasons.  I would like to encourage anyone who has minimal athletic prowess (just like me) that with a bit of thought on what you eat, drink and do you can achieve a lot and feel really good.  Don’t worry I won’t preach!

4. Finally, I want to raise some money for Mind.  It’s been 20 years since my first experience of how depression can destroy a life and have massive impact on the lives of those trying to help.  This week has thrown up reminders of those days and I would really like to raise some money so others don’t have to be affected by the helpless feeling when your loved ones and friends struggle with mental health issues.  Click here if you would like to donate a few quid.

So, that’s the why boxed off, now lets have a look at the how.  This week has been a big week, it has seen me cycle 102 miles, run 62 miles, swim absolutely nowhere and complete 4 strength or circuits sessions.  That was a total of 20 hours and 46 mins so its no wonder my legs ache!

I’m sure your mind is racing with so many questions about what went on in these 20 hours and 46 minutes so I’ll try and answer a few here:

Monday included a 6 mile run in the morning, then I thought I would wait until the wind and rain was at their worst before going a 42 mile bike ride which included 3 x 20 minute hard efforts.  A bike wash was in order after that.

Tuesday included 9 miles of running on the treadmill whilst watching the finest performance at Glastonbury of all time (if you’ve only got 10 minutes to spare go to 1:32 for Ziggy Stardust followed by Hereos.)

There was also a circuits session via Messenger with the fantastic Centurion Circuits and PT.  Ian does a great job of encouraging fitness in York and I’ve really enjoyed being a member of this group both online in these tricky times and in person when people used to meet in gyms and do exercise.

Wednesday brought 13 miles of running and 18 miles of cycling which did involve some mechanical issues (this is often the case with me!) but didn’t stop me smiling.

Thursday brought 9 miles of running, a strength session with Ed Nicholson (if you want to avoid getting injured  through running and learn a lot about cycling along the way then Ed is your man, let me know if you need a good Physio and I’ll send you his number.)  In the evening another circuits session with Ian encouraged by his weekly challenge.

An 8 mile run on Friday morning round the streets of York which seem to be getting busier by the day.  Golf with mates in the rain was a bright end to the week despite losing to a German looking Rory Mclroy impersonator. 

A bike ride Saturday morning - my mate Lewis Calder was going to come along but managed to break a spoke in the first mile (my cruel luck with bike mechanical issues is clearly contagious!) 

The bike ride was combined with helping in the search for a friend.  As I write this it doesn’t seem to have ended well, a lovely bloke who I will miss.  This inspires me further to raise funds for Mind, men do seem to bottle things up (me included) we need to help remove the stigma of talking through issues.  Please donate if you can.

Another strength session after the bike ride was quickly followed by some beers while watching Leeds United get ever closer to a return to the promised land.

16 miles on the treadmill while watching more Glastonbury highlights was today’s effort.  Have you ever tried singing “Mr Brightside” by The Killers while running at 6 mph?  It’s really hard but very rewarding!

A steady week next week with some tests and rest before starting another four week block of training.  Writing this has made me realise how much I enjoy the training process, it doesn’t come without sacrifices but its really self fulfilling making you feel better both above and below the neck.

Well, if you’ve got this far you either really like me or you were incredibly bored before you started.  Whichever it is thanks for reading and I’ll see you same time next week.