#is the flower the sunshine? or Finley | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

im-a-writer-sometimes · 5 years ago

Text

Found Home

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Word count: 5k

Warnings: violence, death, language

Description: After sisters in your sorority are murdered, the BAU comes to investigate, along with an awkwardly handsome doctor who catches your attention.

A/N: Yo, yo, yo, it’s the first fanfic since I started college. Finals week is really getting to me y’all. I needed some Spencer Reid in my life.

---

Reid and Morgan approached the Georgetown University sorority house, Morgan knocking while Reid lagged a bit behind. One of the sisters opened up and let them in, and Reid’s ears perked up as soon as he caught the sound of a piano being played in the next room over. Based on the tempo and pattern, it sounded like a sonata. He was shocked that he didn’t know who had composed it; he had studied enough classical music to recognize most composers. It sounded like a mixture of Beethoven and Tchaikovsky, soft and sweet and slightly dissonant.

As Morgan questioned the girl he peeked his head around the doorway to see another sister sitting at the piano, completely engrossed. Occasionally, she would pause, making hasty marks on the messy paper in front of her. His eyebrows raised, realizing there was a reason he didn’t recognize the composer. She was sitting just a room over.

“Reid?”

Morgan’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he refocused.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

Morgan just shook his head.

“All the sisters are here, so we’re going to question them one at a time. Alright?”

Reid nodded.

“Y/N is in the next room if you want to start with her,” the sister who had let them in commented, pointing in the general direction of the pianist. Reid smiled slightly at hearing her name. Now he could say he knew who had composed that song.

Morgan just nodded, making his way over to the girl at the piano.

“Y/N?” He asked and she looked up from the keys, smiling at him warily.

“You’re with the FBI, I presume?”

Morgan nodded.

“Mind if we ask you a few questions?”

“Are you a music major?” Reid blurted out.

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“Right, well, about Jaylee. When did you see her last?” Morgan asked, pulling out his notepad.

“How long have you been composing?” Reid interrupted before she could respond.

“A few years now,” she answered with a quirk of her brow, confused but slightly entertained.

“Reid, how about you let me ask the questions?” Morgan asked, raising his eyebrows at the young doctor.

Reid nodded, focusing instead on the messy hand-written sheet music sitting on the piano stand. It was covered in smudges and eraser marks, signs of a frantically creative mind. He smiled, the staff paper reminding him of the messy journals he kept. He wanted to hear her play her creation, but Morgan was busy questioning her. He eyed the notes, trying to imagine what it would sound like in his head, but sight reading was something he had never fully mastered. It took a musical ear he wasn’t lucky enough to have.

He looked back at Y/N, who was explaining her relationship to the latest victim.

“We rushed together, but we never really grew close. I mean, we live… or lived in the same house, but we weren’t the best of friends.”

“Was there any animosity between the two of you?”

She shook her head.

“There wasn’t even an opportunity for animosity. We live on separate ends of the house, we don’t have any classes together.”

“Alright, well, thank you for your time. We’ll let you know if we need anything else from you.”

She nodded, turning back to the keys as Morgan stood. Reid remained seated, hesitant to follow his fellow agent.

“Can you play it for me?” He asked out of the blue, almost, almost regretting it as soon as the words left his mouth.

“What?” She asked, looking at him in confusion.

He nodded towards the sheet music. “The song you’re working on.”

She smiled shyly. “It’s not really finished, but I’ll play what I have.”

Reid smiled and held his breath as he waited for her to begin. He didn’t notice that Morgan had already left, gone to question more witnesses. Her fingers hit the first notes, wistful and high. The melody sank lower, growing more concrete as she added the bass. Her left hand kept a steady rhythm as her right hand flowed through an elegant melody, sad and reminiscent of something he couldn’t quite place. She was completely engrossed, eyes closed, as if her hands knew exactly what to do. She was only there to witness the music they were creating. Reid watched her in complete fascination as she played, the music flowing out of her seamlessly. Her instrument became an extension of her body, there was nothing between her and the keys. And then it ended on an unstable chord, quiet and unsure.

She opened her eyes slowly, looking at him meekly.

“That was… amazing. I’ve never heard anything quite like it.”

She grinned, eyes crinkling. “Thank you. I don’t really know where else to go with it. It’s a work in progress.”

“I’ve always loved music. You know, music theory is math at its core.”

“I do know,” she laughed. “But, it’s pretty math you can listen to.”

He laughed. “I guess it is.”

“Math gives us all the rules for music so us composers can break them.”

She grinned as she spoke, and he decided he loved the sight of her smile.

“I’m Spencer, by the way. Reid. Dr. Spencer Reid.” He found himself stumbling over his words and he shook his head inwardly.

“Y/N Y/L/N. Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Reid. Do you play?” she asked.

“A little,” he admitted. She scooted over on the bench, patting the seat next to her.

He laughed again, shaking his head. “No, no. Not after you just did that.”

“Oh, c’mon. Please?”

“Reid!” Morgan called, peeking his head through the doorway. “Time to go.”

“Maybe another time,” he said regretfully, and she nodded. He got up, following Morgan out the door with the sound of her song still echoing in his head.

---

Reid was thrilled to be going back to Y/N’s house, hoping she’d be there, sitting at the piano, composing something beautiful. Of course, he was going back because there was another murder, but the reason didn’t seem to bother him all that much.

He was disappointed when he entered, the house void of music. He peeked around the doorway to the living room, heart sinking slightly at the sight of the empty piano bench.

“We suggest you guys find somewhere else to stay,” Morgan said, catching Reid’s attention.

“Not all of us have somewhere else to go,” the sister, Bailey, he remembered, commented.

“I strongly suggest you all find somewhere.”

“Is that really the wisest course of action?” Reid commented, catching Morgan off guard.

“Do tell,” Morgan sighed.

“Well, if they’re all in different places, they’ll be harder to protect individually. But if they all remain here, it would be easier to protect them. Otherwise, the unsub could pick them off one by one.”

Bailey looked slightly unnerved by his words, but Morgan nodded, seeing the logic in his argument.

“I take it back. You all need to stay here,” Morgan corrected.

Bailey nodded. “I’ll let the girls know. Can we still go to class?”

“For now. But go in groups and never be out at night.”

“What if we have a night class?”

The three of them looked up to see Y/N descending the stairs.

“Then ski--” Morgan started, but Reid cut in.

“Then you’ll need someone to escort you!”

Morgan looked at Reid with raised brows. He glanced between the doctor and the girl and put two and two together fairly quickly.

“And who would do that?” Morgan asked, already knowing the answer.

“I could,” Reid affirmed. “I’d been meaning to learn the layout of the campus anyway.”

Morgan held back an eye roll, knowing Reid had already memorized a map of the campus days ago.

“Alright then,” Y/N smiled. “I leave at 5:50 on Monday and class gets out at 9:00 at Finley Hall.”

“I’ll be there,” Reid confirmed with an awkward thumbs up. Morgan choked back a laugh.

“Alright, stay safe. We’ll be in touch.”

---

Reid arrived at the sorority house at 5:50 on the dot. It wasn’t completely dark yet; meek rays of sunshine were still peeking over the horizon. However, in a few minutes it would be pitch black.

Y/N opened the door when he knocked, smile on her lips and backpack slung over her shoulder. And off they went; Y/N leading the way.

“So what class are we heading to?” He asked.

“History of Music Composition,” she answered.

“Do you mind if I sit in?” He asked, tentatively.

She nodded. “It’s a big class. The professor probably wouldn’t even notice.”

The rest of the walk was quiet. Not an awkward quiet; a comfortable, familiar quiet. They arrived at an older building he knew was Finley Hall and she pushed through the doors, ascending a winding staircase to the third floor. When they entered the classroom, she found two seats near the back, pulling out a notebook as she sat down. He smiled as she opened it; the notes were messily scrawled and along the margins were lazily drawn doodles of flowers and music notes.

The professor arrived at 6:00 on the dot and began teaching immediately. Y/N didn’t seem completely focused, occasionally jotting down important points, but mainly scribbling on her notebook paper. When he heard the professor mention Beethoven, he turned to Y/N.

“Did you know,” he asked, Y/N perking up at his voice. “That Beethoven went deaf at a fairly early age. In fact, when he was conducting at one of his concerts, a chorus member had to--”

“Turn him around at the end so he could see the audience giving him a standing ovation, yes I know,” She laughed. “I’m a music major, Dr. Reid.”

He blushed, scratching the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I love that story.”

He smiled at her as she refocused on what the professor was saying. She continued to aimlessly scribble in her notebook and Reid realized she was distracted. He had never asked how she was doing with all the murders.

“How are you holding up?” He whispered. “With all that’s going on?”

She didn’t look up from her scribbling as she answered.

“I guess as well as I can.” She let out a shaky breath. “I’m scared,” she admitted, looking up at him.

He nodded. “That’s completely normal. But don’t worry, the BAU is getting closer and closer to the unsub, and there is 24 hour protection around the house.”

“I know that, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. It’s like, if this maniac is so set on killing us, I feel like he’ll find a way. No matter how many cops and agents are stationed outside. I know that seems irrational, but--”

“No,” he assured. “It’s not. There is no one way people feel in your situation.”

She smiled at him sadly, doing her best to focus for the rest of class.

He watched her profile with wary eyes, not knowing what to say to make her feel safe. Maybe there wasn’t anything he could say. He sighed, deciding he might as well listen to the professor spew out information he already knew.

---

They arrived back at the house, filtering through the line of agents outside the door. He bade her goodbye, about to walk away when she stopped him.

“That piece I played you the other day,” she said. “I finished it. Would you like to… to um, hear it?” She seemed so unsure, but Reid just smiled and nodded. He followed her inside as she dropped her backpack by the piano. She sat down, patting the spot next to her on the bench. Reid hesitantly sat down, sucking in a breath at how close they were.

And then she began playing, with the same passion as before. The beginning was familiar, but once she reached that quiet and unsure chord, she continued on, the melody growing louder and more firm as she did. He watched her profile as she played, her tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth in concentration. All of the sudden the song grew softer, as she tickled the higher keys, reaching past him to do so. And then it ended, quiet, but confident. She looked at him, wide eyed, waiting for his reaction.

“That was absolutely beautiful,” he breathed. He noticed her eyes flicker down to his lips and he did the same. They were already so close, but she leaned even closer. He found himself closing his eyes, heart racing in anticipation. Just before their lips met, a scream ripped through the house.

They both jumped, pulling away immediately. Reid reached for his gun before running in the direction of the scream.

“Stay here,” he told her as he ran.

He rushed up the stairs, followed by agents pushing in from outside. He saw one of the doors ajar, and kicked it the rest of the way open, seeing a girl he didn’t recognize kneeling over a body. He recognized the body as Bailey’s and he lowered his gun. Shit. He was too late.

He turned to speak to the agents behind him when he saw Y/N who had followed him up despite his direct order to do the exact opposite. Her eyes were wide and brimming with tears as she stared at the lifeless body of her friend. Her hand flew to cover her mouth as a sob wracked through her body.

She looked past the dead girl and Reid followed her gaze, catching sight of the open window. He rushed past the body, looking through the window in a vain attempt to catch sight of the unsub.

“Have agents follow several trails leading away from this window,” he told the agents waiting by the door. “Now!”

They rushed to do as he ordered, leaving just him, the girl who had found Bailey, and Y/N, still unmoving. His eyes softened at the sight of her. He made his way back to her, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder. She did even look up, seemingly unaware of his presence.

“Let’s get you downstairs, okay?” He said, softly. She nodded slowly, eyes never leaving Bailey’s corpse. “The Forensics team should be here any minute.”

He led her downstairs, beckoning for the girl who had found Bailey to follow. Agents passed them as they descended the stairs, and Y/N turned, watching them enter Bailey’s room. He took the both of them outside, his eyes finding Morgan, Rossi, and JJ in the crowd.

“I thought you said we’d be safe here.” He turned back to look at her at her quiet voice, her eyes wide with unfiltered fear and horror.

He opened his mouth to speak, but he didn’t know what to say. He just looked at her with sympathetic eyes as she waited for some kind of explanation. An EMT passed by and he stopped them.

“She’s in shock,” he told her, and the EMT nodded, placing her arms on Y/N’s shoulders and leading her to sit down on the back of an ambulance, wrapping a blanket around her shaking form.

“Do you know what the hell happened?” Morgan asked as he, Rossi, and JJ approached.

“No,” he shook his head. “One minute it was quiet, the next I heard a scream and ran upstairs. Some girl found Bailey’s body. I’m not sure how long she’s been dead, but the window to her room was open.”

Morgan was about to speak, when a sister interrupted them.

“Excuse me, I don’t know if this helps, but I know Bailey was planning on sneaking a guy into the house. She was mad we weren’t allowed to have guys over, so she was planning on sneaking someone in through the window.”

“Do you know who?” JJ asked.

“No, she didn’t have a boyfriend. Just a bunch of flings.”

“Do you know any of their names?” Rossi prodded.

The girl nodded and JJ stepped aside with her, pulling out a notebook.

“Mini-Beethoven over there seems pretty shook up,” Morgan commented, eyes landing on Y/N’s still shaking form.

“Yeah, she followed me upstairs and saw the body.”

Morgan nodded, looking between the doctor and the pianist.

“What were you doing in the house?” he asked, arms crossed. “I thought you were just escorting her to and from class.”

Reid raised his brows at his colleague’s question, groping for an answer. “Well, she… um, she… invited me in, because… she finished… the song, that song she showed me when we first… you know… and she um, finished it… and she wanted to show me and I wanted to hear and so, um… yeah, she showed me her song… and that was it, just that thing, all that happened.”

Rossi and Morgan peered at each other, grinning.

“Does Reid have a crush?” Morgan asked, playfully shoving the doctor.

“No, just an appreciation,” he assured. “She’s an excellent composer.”

“Sound like a crush to me, does that sound like a crush to you?” He asked, looking at Rossi.

“Certainly does,” the older man said, smiling.

“Shouldn’t we be focusing on the case?” Reid asked, scratching the back of his neck.

“Whatever you say, Romeo.”

---

The were so close. They had the description of the unsub down, and units were looking for him throughout the DC area. Occasionally, through the bustle of the case, Reid found his mind drifting back to Y/N, who was practically locked inside the house where her friends had been murdered. He hadn’t seen her since Bailey’s death. The case hadn’t required him to, but he wanted to make sure she was okay. Statistics would say she would still be processing so soon after a traumatic experience, but he wanted to find out for himself. At the same time, he needed to find this unsub. So he didn’t go to see her. Instead, he focused on the case so she could get back on with her life.

---

The last few days had been trying for Y/N. Her friend was ruthlessly murdered and she was forced to remain on the scene of the crime. They had doubled security, so there was no leaving and no one was allowed in. She spent most of her days at the piano, composing angry and confused and resentful melodies. Her piano was the only thing keeping her clinging to her sanity.

She was in the middle of composing when gunshots echoed down the street. She instantly stood, eyes finding the officer standing guard in the foyer.

“What was that?” she asked.

“I’m not sure, ma’am. The officers outside will take care of it, I’m sure.”

More gunshots fired, followed by a scream, this time a little closer.

One of her sisters flew down the stairs to ask the officer the same question she had posed seconds ago. He gave the same answer. A few other girls made their way down the steps timidly.

And then there was heavy pounding on the door.

All of them jumped, the girls looking to the officer who looked just as shocked.

“Go upstairs,” he ordered. “Now!”

Y/N didn’t hesitate to follow her sisters up the stairs, locking herself in her room. She backed away from the door slowly, chest heaving as the banging on the front door continued just downstairs. She wanted to cry, but the tears didn’t come. Her heart pounded with a level of fear she had never experienced before.

She kept backing away until she bumped into something, no someone, and then a hand clamped over her mouth.

“Don’t try anything,” a husky voice whispered in her ear and she whimpered as she felt the cool metal of a gun pressed against her temple.

---

The team rushed to the house as soon as they got the call. Spencer hoped Y/N wasn’t there, although he knew that she most definitely was. Several officers were down, over a dozen injured. No one knew how, but he didn’t care. He needed to get to the house before anything else happened.

They pulled into the driveway and Spencer rushed out before they came to a complete stop.

“What do we know?” he asked an officer standing idly in the yard. The officer didn’t respond, he just pointed up at the balcony. Reid followed the direction of his finger and his heart stopped. There on the balcony was a man in a ski mask holding a gun to the temple of a shaking girl. Not just any girl. Y/N.

He looked down to see a man with the word “Negotiator” printed on his vest speaking into a bullhorn. The unsub occasionally shouted down at the man, but he wasn’t budging.

He focused his gaze back on Y/N, who’s eyes had found him in the crowd. Tears were streaming freely down her cheeks. She looked at him with pleading eyes, knowing deep down that there was nothing he could do.

“Have we tried getting in?” he asked the officer next to him.

“There’s more than one of them,” he answered. “They’ve blocked off all the doors. The second we enter, she dies.”

“Well, then what the hell are we doing to stop this?” Reid practically screamed at the officer, catching the attention of those around him.

“Just leave and no one else gets hurt,” he heard the unsub call down to the negotiator. “You hear me? I’m starting the countdown now. If all of you aren’t gone in the next ten minutes, this bitch bites the dust.”

He watched as Y/N closed her eyes at his words, taking in a shaky breath.

“What do you want?”

“To make these ungrateful whores pay,” he spat back.

Y/N choked on a sob and the unsub pressed the gun to her temple even harder, forcing her head into an awkward angle.

“We can’t let you do that,” the negotiator said. “Just let them go and we can talk it out, alright?”

The unsub shook his head.

“I’ve given you my terms. Clear out or else they’ll all die. I fucking swear it.”

“What did they do to deserve this?” The negotiator called up, clearly trying to stall.

“These bitches think they’re better than us, don’t you?” He said, aiming the last part at Y/N. “It’s about time they learned that they’re nothing more than stuck-up, mindless sluts.”

Spencer turned to look at his colleagues for any kind of idea. They were all empty-handed.

He turned back around just in time to see Y/N lift her foot to kick him in the crotch. The unsub immediately curled into himself, loosening his grip on Y/N. She took this opportunity to run back into the house. However, before she made it inside, the unsub grabbed hold of her ankle, effectively toppling her to the ground. She kicked at him, but he dragged her back onto the balcony. Spencer watched in horror as picked her up in a fit of anger, tossing her over the side of the balcony like a rag doll. He ran towards her, but slowed when he saw an agent catch her before she hit the ground. He let out a breath, jogging the rest of the way to her.

The agent who had caught her set her gently on the ground, her legs shaking. Spencer was there immediately, holding her up.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He asked, scanning her for injuries.

She didn’t respond, she just wrapped her arms around his torso, burying her face into his chest. He hugged her back instantly, holding her as she sobbed into his shirt. Neither of them noticed the unsubs being dragged out of the house in cuffs a few minutes later, or the frightened women that filtered out the front door after them. Y/N held onto Spencer for dear life, and he let her.

---

A week had passed since the unsubs had been arrested. It had been a group of delusional students who had been rejected by women in the sorority at one time or another. She remembered one of them, the one who had held her at gunpoint. He was a bit of an eccentric kid. He had asked her out at a party shortly after she had split with her ex and she politely declined. She hadn’t thought twice about it. But now she saw his face on the news nearly every night. And she kept imagining the clammy hand clamped over her mouth and the cold barrel pressed against her temple.

She hadn’t returned to the house since it happened. Or seen any of her sisters. The only thing that remained in her life was Spencer. She had been taken to the hospital that night for some minor injuries and Spencer had accompanied her. He had stayed with her, holding her hand, when a psych team came in for an evaluation while she lay in her hospital bed. He helped her move in with her friend, returning to the house to get her stuff so she wouldn’t have to. He even hauled her stand-up piano half-way across town.

It was hard to pick up where they left off before they found Bailey dead. The image of his lips nearly ghosting over hers remained in her head, but she wasn’t ready to dive into anything like that quite yet. However, she still saw Spencer. He came to check on her after work every now and then. Or stopped by after he flew back into DC from a mission.

It wasn’t until a month later, when she met him at a coffee shop down the street from the capitol building, that they finally started back up. He asked her to dinner. And not just any dinner. A fancy, five-star restaurant kind of dinner. She happily accepted and now she was scurrying around her room frantically, trying to piece together an outfit.

“Does gold or silver go better with maroon?” She asked her roommate who was sitting on her bed, scrolling through her phone.

“Uh… silver?” She responded, not even looking up.

“Or maybe I should go with the green dress,” Y/N sighed, looking at her reflection in the mirror.

“Would you stop worrying?” Her roommate laughed. “This guy is obviously head over heels for you. You could show up in a potato sack and he would still swoon.”

“That doesn’t help me pick out an outfit, Macey.”

Her roommate rolled her eyes before standing up and heading to Y/N’s closet. She pulled out a dark blue dress, tossing it to Y/N.

“Wear that with your silver necklace.”

Y/N held up the dress to her torso, looking in the mirror before nodding to herself.

She was about to change when a knock sounded at the door.

“What? He’s ten minutes early! Can you go answer the door and tell him I’ll be out in a minute?”

“Of course,” Macey laughed, heading to the front hallway.

“Hello, Dr. Reid,” she greeted as she opened the door, seeing Spencer decked out in slacks and a sports jacket. “Don’t you look adorable.”

“Thanks, Macey. Is Y/N ready?” He asked, wringing his hands anxiously.

“Almost. You can wait for her inside.”

Spencer nodded, stepping inside the apartment he had been in countless times. This time it felt different, though. He sat down on the couch, letting out a shaky breath as he waited for Y/N.

When she finally emerged from her room, he stood abruptly. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat.

“Are you ready?” She asked, grabbing the clutch sitting on the counter.

He nodded, eyes never leaving her.

“You look…”

She raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to finish.

“Stunning,” he finally managed, and her face melted into a smile.

“Why, thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

She took his arm as they left, waving goodbye to Macey as they shut the door.

The ride to the restaurant was quiet, but a good quiet. He sat beside her, eyes never leaving her face. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was.

Dinner was excellent. The food was amazing, and the company was even better.

Spencer walked her to her door at the end of the night, hands shoved in his pockets awkwardly.

“I had a really nice time,” she said, opening her clutch for her keys.

“Me too,” Spencer agreed.

“We should do it again sometime,” she chuckled.

“Me too,” Spencer said, realizing his words made no sense. She just laughed.

“Am I making the Dr. Spencer Reid nervous?”

“You have no idea,” he breathed out. His eyes flicked down to her lips and he let out a shaky breath. “Can I--can we… could we… do you--”

He was cut off by her lips pressing against his. He quickly melted into the kiss, arms wrapping around her waist as her hands found home on his cheeks.

They pulled away all too soon, foreheads resting against each other.

“Goodnight, Dr. Reid,” she whispered, pressing one final kiss to his lips before disappearing inside.

Spencer let out a breath, a smile creeping onto his lips. He strolled down her driveway, hands in his pockets as he made his way back to his apartment. He had no idea how he got so lucky.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid imagine #Criminal Minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds one shot #bau #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #angst #fluff #spencer reid fluff

1K notes · View notes

stickystarspectrumtroll-ocs · 4 years ago

Text

I made all my OCs in this amazingballztastical EGG PICREW

To start with, here’s Luna’s egg! I tried to give it a “mysterious mystical creature of the night” vibe, she’s kinda got that going on. The key is for how sneaky and devious she is, the way she’s always got tricks up her sleeve. The sinister-looking symbol branded front and center is more for the assumptions and judgements that were stuck on her ever since she was born. The black angel wings are kind of for both. The black and white feathers at the top are symbols of both her morally ambiguous nature and the vague fragments of her origin story I have rolling around in my head.

Jewel’s egg! I tried to give this as much of her and her island’s aesthetic as possible. The vibrant colors, the jewels, the flowers, the magic. Honestly, I think I nailed it! This egg absolutely SCREAMS “Jewel”.

Allets’s egg! Her whole life she’s been chained to the tight confines of stuffy upright royal life, her parents have tried their hardest to mold her into that and she’s tried her hardest to comply, but she can never quite suppress that spirit inside of her always bursting to get out. So, I made this egg show that spirit of who she really is finally breaking free! The egg’s all fancy lace and spiffy little angel wings with a big crown on top, the gilded cage she was raised in, but there’s a bit of vibrant and colorful detailing too, and the egg’s breaking wide open, releasing colorful butterflies and swirling rainbows. Simple and clear symbolism that I think came out great!

Here we have Eliote’s egg! It’s surrounded by darkness, as she’s been metaphorically for much of her life. It’s got this dark woodsy aesthetic, for all the time she’s spent out in the dark Endless Woods and just the general state of mind she’s been in. That white stem in the middle? It might look like a tree but it’s the stem of a black flower that’s supposed to represent her parents’ deaths. You can’t really see the flower though, ‘cause that’s (accidentally but rather fittingly) where the egg’s broken open, releasing blue butterflies and glowy petals! That’s to show her true colors shining through starting to heal from all that pain and trauma. Connecting with a few people who support and care for her and starting to feel happy again, also regaining her magical ability that she lost touch with after losing her parents.

This is Maddie T’s egg! I think those blue mushrooms at the top have kind of a Wonderland-ish vibe, don’t you? It’s got plenty of eye-popping brightly colored things here to show Maddie T’s off-the-wall personality. The actual egg that all of those are on has some cooler colors to balance that out a little, and I think that egg by itself might have more of a classical fantasy vibe, which I think goes to show that however outlandish and nonsensical Maddie T can be, she’s more than just a clown. There’s a lot going on in her head, her thoughts can be deep and interesting and outside-the-box in ways that can be a serious strength. She’s a ravenclaw in the Hogwarts AU for a reason!

Here’s Finley’s egg! I think it fits her general vibe and aesthetic pretty well! I made an envelope bursting out the middle and a plant growing out of the top, representing how she has this insatiable hunger for knowledge and learning, and tons of potential just kicking and screaming to be realized. That potential along with her fairy magic is also shown by the four sets of colorful wings.

Penny’s egg is bright, glowing yellow, like sunshine! It has colorful shapes that look like they could be painted or cut out of paper for an arts and crafts project. There’s a colorful (paint?) ring around it and big colorful (paint?) spots surrounding it too. All of which represent her personality and her love of bright colors and arts and crafts. The black flower front and center, the foggy black patch at the top with black and white ghostly mushrooms, and even the darkness around the whole thing are there to represent her being a vampire and the impact that it’s had on her. The cracks are there for that too--she’s been broken and is trying to pull the pieces back together and hold them together. Heck, she’s drawn these colorful little houses on the cracks, like they’re the roads of a little town, or the branches of a tree with a tiny bird or fairy town in it. She’s trying to make something good out of this, take her pain and make something out of it that brings a smile to her face. Overall, I feel like what I was going for here is that there’s a darkness that’s been planted inside her and threatens to consume her, and she’s trying her DANG hardest to draw up enough color and light from within herself to keep that from happening.

And finally, Twig’s egg! This one was a bit tricky. I was a little unsure about how simple it looked, but maybe it makes sense with her being the baby of the bunch? (She’s 11, the rest of the OC squad ranges from 13 to 15 and the canon Trolls characters she’s friends with are young adults.) The colorful shapes down there look like they could be cut out of paper for a craft project. They also kinda look like troll pods! The flower could be cut from felt and paper too maybe. She could’ve scrapbooked most of the designs on this egg. The base color is a pretty bright color and pretty nature-y, which fits the environment she’s from. The crack in the middle and the dark patch at the top where the egg's broken open are kind of like her gray arm-stripe and freckles, showing her less typical-troll-like traits and her insecurities about them. The branches (ha...Branch...es...) around it can also be for that side of her, as well as the slightly shadowed background casting just a little bit of darkness over it. The general brightness of the egg and the sun spots at the top could show how she really is more on the sunny and whimsical side by nature though.

Whoo! This was fun! I love this picrew and I love how the eggs came out. I’ve got one for C.C. too, but I think I’ll hold off adding that until I get Jasper’s right, and it’s getting late now. Hope y’all liked these!!

#personal favorite #all ocs #picrew

6 notes · View notes

florablume · 5 years ago

Text

ALL ABOUT FLORA ELIZABETH BLUME

BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME: Flora Elizabeth Blume PRONUNCIATION: Flaw-ruh MEANING: Latin origin, meaning “flower” NICKNAME(S): Flo, Blume, Sparky PREFERRED NAME(S): Flora BIRTH DATE: 4th April 1978 AGE: 41 ZODIAC: Aries GENDER: Cis female PRONOUNS: She/her/hers ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Heteroromantic SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Heterosexual NATIONALITY: American ETHNICITY: Caucasian CURRENT LOCATION: New York City LIVING CONDITIONS: Cohabiting TITLE(S): Miss/Ms

BACKGROUND

BIRTH PLACE: California HOMETOWN: San Francisco SOCIAL CLASS: Working EDUCATION LEVEL: College FATHER: Richard Blume MOTHER: Joanne Blume SIBLING(S): Pip & Sam BIRTH ORDER: Flora, Pip & then Sam CHILDREN: Finley Dunne PET(S): None OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: In-Laws PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: A few, but nothing significant other than with Henry ARRESTS?: None PRISON TIME?: None

OCCUPATION & INCOME

PRIMARY SOURCE OF INCOME: Nurse Practitioner at New York Presbyterian Hospital APPROXIMATE AMOUNT PER YEAR: $106,554 CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: Definitely content PAST JOB(S): Office admin jobs & worked in a coffee shop SPENDING HABITS: Average MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: An engagement ring from Henry

SKILLS & ABILITIES

PHYSICAL STRENGTH: Probably a little above average for her size xD SPEED: Definitely average, if not a little below INTELLIGENCE: High AGILITY: Okay? Mostly because she’s small STAMINA: Better than it has been for the past few years lmao TEAMWORK: Good if other people will listen to her, bad if they don’t take her opinion into account TALENTS: Getting her own way lmao SHORTCOMINGS: Stubbornness, overprotective, sometimes acts/speaks without thinking. LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: English, basic French and Spanish DRIVE?: Yes JUMP-STAR A CAR?: Yes CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: With a little assistance RIDE A BICYCLE?: Yes SWIM?: Yes PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: No PLAY CHESS?: She knows how to but it’s not something she does often BRAID HAIR?: Yes TIE A TIE?: Yes PICK A LOCK?: No

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS

FACE CLAIM: Holly Marie Combs/Zoey Deutch EYE COLOUR: Brown HAIR COLOUR: Brown HAIR TYPE/STYLE: Long & straight GLASSES/CONTACTS?: No DOMINANT HAND: Right HEIGHT: 5′1 WEIGHT: 133lbs BUILD: Short & curvy EXERCISE HABITS: She does pilates and yoga twice a week and she will go for the occasional swim, plus all the sex with Henry... SKIN TONE: Fair TATTOOS: None PIERCINGS: Ears & naval MARKS/SCARS: She has a few stretch marks on her stomach and thighs, and some scars on her back. Also a scar through her eyebrow. USUAL EXPRESSION:

CLOTHING STYLE: Comfortable but smart. She likes to wear skirts and dresses and anything with a floral print. JEWELLERY: She likes simple jewellery - earrings, necklace and a ring are all she’s usually wearing. ALLERGIES: None BODY TEMPERATURE: She’s always cold. DIET: Pretty good, she always tries to eat healthily. PHYSICAL AILMENTS: None

PSYCHOLOGY

JUNG TYPE: ESTJ (Extrovert-Sensor-Thinker-Judger) ENNEAGRAM TYPE: Type 8 - the Challenger (also strong Type 2 - the Giver) MORAL ALIGNMENT: Neutral Good TEMPERAMENT: Phlegmatic ELEMENT: Earth PRIMARY INTELLIGENCE TYPE: Interpersonal Intelligence APPROXIMATE IQ: 115 MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: None SOCIABILITY: Flora is pretty sociable. EMOTIONAL STABILITY: She’s fairly emotionally stable, but does fly off the handle about stupid things sometimes. On the whole though, she’s a good egg. OBSESSION(S): She gets very easily jealous, but I wouldn’t go as far as to say it’s an obsession. COMPULSION(S): None PHOBIA(S): Clowns, creepy dolls, horror movies in general. ADDICTION(S): Probably caffeine lmao DRUG USE: None ALCOHOL USE: She drinks occasionally, but not to excess. PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: ....sometimes. More so when she was younger.

MANNERISMS

SPEECH STYLE: Fast and a little shrill lmao ACCENT: Californian QUIRKS: Very short, scar through her eyebrow, fiddles with her hair a lot. HOBBIES: Gardening, walking, sewing, watching movies, dancing. HABITS: Fiddles with hair & tucks it behind her ears a lot, snores a little, chews her lip, doodles when she’s on the phone, over-eats when she’s stressed. NERVOUS TICKS: Rubs her hands together a lot/fiddles with her hands when she’s nervous. DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: Helping people, taking care of her family. FEARS: Losing the people she loves. POSITIVE TRAITS: caring, protective, quick-witted and intelligent NEGATIVE TRAITS: volatile, smothering, sharp-tongued and stubborn SENSE OF HUMOUR: Pretty good, she can definitely take a joke, luckily for Henry because he’s always teasing her. DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: When Fin’s not around, yes. When he is around, absolutely not. CATCHPHRASE(S): She uses terms of endearment a lot like ‘sweetie’ and ‘honey’. ‘Be careful’ is probably another because she worries too much. And also ‘stop that’ because she’s bossy xD

FAVOURITES

ACTIVITY: Sex lmao ANIMAL: Bluejay BEVERAGE: Coffee BOOK: The Cactus by Sarah Haywood CELEBRITY: Hugh Jackman COLOUR: Pink DESIGNER: Lulu Guinness FOOD: Lemon Cheesecake FLOWER: Orchid GEM: Diamond HOLIDAY: Christmas obvs MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: Car MOVIE: Dirty Dancing MUSICAL ARTIST: Kate Bush QUOTE/SAYING: “But first...coffee!” SCENERY: The NYC skyline is pretty nice SCENT: Daisy by Marc Jacobs SPORT: None lmao SPORTS TEAM: She’s clueless about sport. TELEVISION SHOW: The Good Place WEATHER: Sunshine VACATION DESTINATION: She’d love to go to Paris.

ATTITUDES

GREATEST DREAM: Having a family of her own. GREATEST FEAR: Losing anyone that she loves. MOST AT EASE WHEN: She’s at home, feet up with a glass of wine. LEAST AT EASE WHEN: She’s rushed off her feet at work, or at one of Henry’s mom’s fancy dinner parties. WORST POSSIBLE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN: Jen swoops in and steals Henry from her? idk lmao BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: Having Finley. Also getting herself through college with barely any money to her name when she first started. BIGGEST REGRET: Taking so long to have more kids? again idk. MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: lol too many for her to name bcos she’s the queen of embarrassing herself. Probably when she got too worked up the first time she laid eyes on Jen and had too much to drink before Henry had to take her home. TOP PRIORITIES: Fin & Henry (& bump)

#abt #𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕣𝕜𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕚𝕤𝕞𝕤 [ headcanons ]#cd #this has been sat unfinished in my drafts for a while #clever past me leaving all the time consuming enneagram shit until last lmao #also i've done so many of these but idgaf

4 notes · View notes

the-record-obituaries · 5 years ago

Text

June 19, 2019: Obituaries

Lovina Schrock, 91

Mrs. Lovina Hostetler Schrock, 91, of Moravian Falls, passed away on Sunday, June 16, 2019 at her residence.

Lovina was born on June 11, 1928 in Stark County Ohio to Henry Hostetler and Ella Miller Hostetler.

Lovina is preceded in death by parents; husband, Mervin L. Schrock; brother, Ervin Hostetler; sister, Beulah Hochstedler and great grand daughter, Danielle Schrock.

Lovina is survived by her 5 daughters, Susan Faye Hochstetler of Canada, Joy Roselle Hileman of Ohio, Debra Kaye Yoder of Moravian Falls, Juanita Lynne Herber of Pennsylvania, Charlotte Marlene Schrock of Virginia; 5 sons, John Mark Schrock, Larry Dean Schrock, Timothy Jay Schrock, Franklin Scott Schrock all of Virginia, Frederick Allen Schrock of Moravian Falls; sisters, Mary Wittmer of Pennsylvania, Viola Mullet of Ohio; brothers, Melvin Hostetler of Ohio, Henry Hostetler of Canada; 21 grandchildren and many great grand children.

The funeral service will be held in Ohio at a later date.

Adams Funeral Home of Wilkes has the honor of serving the Schrock Family.

Nancy Winters, 5

Nancy Lee Winters, age 55, of North Wilkesboro, passed away Saturday, June 15, 2019 at Westwood Hills Nursing and Rehab Center. Nancy was born July 11, 1963 in Wilkes County to Cecil and Mandy Stanley Trivette. She loved to fish; do crafts and quilting. Ms. Winters was preceded in death by her parents; and several siblings.

Surviving are her son, Steven Winters and spouse Jessica of North Wilkesboro; daughter, Amanda Winters and spouse Zachary White of Huntington, West Virginia; a number of siblings; grandchildren, M.J. Winters and Josh Walker.

The family has requested no flowers.

Miller Funeral Service is in charge of the arrangements.

Hazel Prevette, 96

Hazel Maie Johnson Prevette, 96, of North Wilkesboro, went home to be with her Lord and Savior on Saturday, June 15, 2019 at Wilkes Senior Village.

She was born May 23, 1923 in Wilkes County, to the late William Edward Johnson and Julie Maie Combs Johnson.

Hazel was a member of Lewis Baptist Church. She loved singing and praising the Lord with her church family in the choir. She was a passionate vegetable and flower gardener.

Including her parents, she was preceded in death by: her husband, Dewey Gaither Prevette Sr.; grandchildren, Craig Williams and Pamela Taylor.

Those left to cherish and honor her memory include: daughters, Peggy Taylor (Wallace) of McGrady, Kathy Williams (Dean) of Wilkesboro; sons, D. G. Prevette, Jr. (Linda) of Wilkesboro, Kenneth Prevette (Sarah) of Lewisville; sister, Annie Lou Brown (Gene) of Millers Creek; brother, Howard Johnson of Purlear; many grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and great-great grandchildren

Funeral services wereJune 18, at Lewis Baptist Church in North Wilkesboro. Rev. Bruce Rhoades will be officiating. Burial followed in the church cemetery.

Adams Funeral Home of Wilkes and cremation services is honored to be serving the Prevette Family.

Fern Anderson, 87

Fern Anderson, 87 Mrs. Fern Pauline Call Anderson, age 87, widow of Hobert Anderson, died on Saturday, June 15, 2019 at Villages of Wilkes.

Funeral services were June 19, at Reins-Sturdivant Chapel with Rev. Alan Bouchelle officiating. Burial was in Fishing Creek Arbor Baptist Church Cemetery.

Mrs. Anderson was born June 19, 1931 in Wilkes County to Benjamin Winfred and Carrie Elizabeth Benge Call. She was a member of Penelope Baptist Church in Hickory. Before her retirement while residing in Hickory, NC, she worked for Cline Insurance Company as a private secretary and was self-employed as a skin care specialist thru Ann Mari.

In addition to her parents she was preceded in death by her husband, Hobert Anderson; four sisters, Sylvia Call Soots, Tessie Call Foster, Florence Call Hayes Bouchelle, and Doris Call Waddell Spears; and four brothers, Julius H. Call, James P. Call, Roy "Ray" Call, and Coy "Clay" Call.

She is survived by her daughter, Linda Anderson Plemmons of North Wilkesboro; twin sons, Tracy Anderson and wife, Sandy, of Millers Creek, and Travis Van Anderson of Hickory; four grandchildren, Dana K.Anderson, Dylan L. Anderson, Doug Plemmons, and Floyd Plemmons; four great-grandchildren, Rachel C. Plemmons, Kyle P. Plemmons, Jason Sprinkle, and Elijah Foster; one great-great-grandchild, Chaselyn Kate Plemmons; one sister, Lois Call Foster of Traphill; and one brother, Thomas Jerry Call of Wilkesboro.

The latter part of her life, Mrs. Anderson spent ten years at Catawba Valley Assisted Living and three years at Wilkes Senior Villages. The family sincerely thanks the staff of both facilities for their wonderful care of their loved one.

A special thank you from the family to Shirley Bowlin for her exceptional care of our Mother.

Kenith Jones, Sr., 83

Mr. Kenith Smythe Jones, Sr., 83, of Taylorsville, passed away Thursday, June 13, 2019 at Valley Nursing Center.

Kenith was born December 18, 1935 in Fayette County, WV, the son of the late George Thomas Jones, Sr. and Inez Blanch Duncan Jones.

He was a US Army veteran, who served in Germany as a combat engineer. He had worked as a supervisor for Southern Devices before retiring and was a member of Bethel Baptist Church. He enjoyed reading Westerns, was a avid Redskin fan, and enjoyed playing golf when he was able and also enjoyed watching NASCAR.

Including his parents, he was preceded in death by: his wife, Peggy Joyce Payne Jones; four sisters, Beulah Pemberton, Doris Criss, Natella Blackwell and infant sister, Carolyn Jones; a brother, George Jones.

Those left to cherish and honor his memory include: a daughter, Patricia Jones Carter and husband, Larry, of Statesville; four sons, Kenny Jones and wife, Joan, of Taylorsville, Barry Jones and wife, Janna, of Newton, Timothy Jones and wife, Lisa, of Taylorsville, Ricky Jones of Asheville; five grandchildren, Joshua Moore, Caitlin Jones Parkhurst and husband, Matt, Ashley Jones, Tyler Jones and wife, Tiffany, Andrew Jones and fiance, Lacey Bruno; four great-grandchildren, RJ, Gracelynn, Jacob and Ezra; two sisters, Janet Payne and husband, Charles, of WV, Drema Gail Gales of VA; a brother, William Jones and wife, Carol, of WV; a sister-in-law, Christine Jones of WV; and a number of nieces and nephews.

A service was held June 17, at Bethel Baptist Church with Revs. Bill Smith and Ervel Jones officiating. Burial followed in the church cemetery with flag folding ceremony.

Pallbearers were Ken's sons and grandsons.

The family would like to express a sincere thank you for every act of kindness or visit to our loved one and also to the staff, nurses and caregivers at Valley Nursing Center.

Memorials may be made to: Alexander County Hospice, 50 Lucy Echerd Lane, Taylorsville, NC 28681.

Adams Funeral Home and cremation services is honored to be serving the Jones Family.

Terri Sigmon, 64

Terri Lynn Sigmon, age 64, passed away peacefully on June 11, 2019 at Valley Nursing and Rehabilitation in Taylorville and is now resting in the care of our Lord.

She was born in Hickory, NC on February 28, 1955. Prior to moving there she lived at Parklane Group home in Newton.

She was preceded in death by her parents Charles and Jane Sigmon of Hickory.

She is survived by her sister, Sandie Cline (Jimmie) of Wilkesboro, and her brothers, Robert Sigmon (Virginia) of Statesville, and Bruce Sigmon of Hickory.

Terri was a long- time member of Christ Lutheran Church in Hickory where she is best remembered for her deep faith and leading the congregation in happy birthday songs. She especially loved family gatherings during the holidays. She had a special relationship with her nephews Christopher (Tanya) of Wilkesboro, Jonathan (Ellen) and Matthew (Jessica) of Mooresville and great nephews and nieces, Ayden, Charlie, Cameron, Macie, Oren, Eli, Finley and Luke. They will cherish the memories of her.

The funeral service will be held on Thursday, June 20, at 3:00 p.m. at Christ Lutheran Church in Hickory.

The family will receive friends prior to the service from 2: 00 until 3:00 p.m. at the church. Rev. Richard Schwandt will be officiating the service. Burial will follow at Oakwood Cemetery.

In lieu of flowers memorials can be made to the memorial fund at Christ Lutheran Church, 324 2nd Ave. SE, Hickory, NC 28602.

Pallbearers for the service will be Christopher Cline, Jonathan Cline, Matthew Cline, Van Smith, Scott Wimmer, and Billy Pernell.

Vickie Cothren, 52

Vickie Cothren, 52 Miss Vickie Lee Cothren, age 52 of Roaring River, passed away Wednesday, June 12, 2019 at Woltz Hospice Home in Dobson.

Funeral services were June 15, at White Plains Baptist Church with Pastor William Souther and Bishop Peggy Horton officiating. Burial was in the church cemetery. Vickie was born October 24, 1966 in Wilkes County to James "Jim" Ervin Cothren and Georgie Lee Swaim Cothren. She was employed for 30 years with Wilkes Community College as a Library Assistant. Vickie enjoyed spending time with her great nieces and nephews who called her "Bibby" and liked sports from WFU, Chicago Bulls and Carolina Panthers. She also enjoyed cooking and most enjoyed sharing her testimony with her relationship with God.

She was preceded in death by her mother; Georgie Lee Cothren.

In addition to her father; Jim Cothren, she is survived by three sisters; Anna Church of Millers Creek, Teresa Absher of Roaring River and Jane Whitley of Hays, nieces and nephews; Amanda Miller (William), Sonya Evans (Allen), Michael Church, Ashley Mabe (Jason), Lindsay Jester (Justin) and Colby Whitley, great nieces and nephews; Elijah Miller, Asher Miller, Brenan, Nevan and Rowyn Mabe and Elizabeth Jester, Aunt Joy Swaim, Cousins; Calvin Swaim, Charlene Dancy and family, special friends and co-workers; Rebecca Kruger, Christy Earp, Misty Bass, Janet Atwood, Audrey Chapel and Donna Church and Fur Babies; Jett, Sanford, Melinda and Miss Sunshine.

Flowers will be accepted or memorials may be made to the Donor's Choice, Wilkes Community Partnership for Children PO Box 788 North Wilkesboro, NC 28659, Wilkes Community College Endowment Corporation PO Box 120 Wilkesboro, NC 28697 or Mtn. Valley Hospice 401 Technology Lane Suite 200 Mt. Airy, NC 27030.

James Ashley, Jr. 77

Mr. James Martin Ashley, Jr. age 77 of Wilkesboro, passed away Tuesday, June 11, 2019 at his home.

Funeral services were June 18, at Cub Creek Baptist Church with Pastor John Lewis and Mr. Frank Denny officiating. Burial was in Cub Creek Baptist Church Cemetery.

Mr. Ashley was born November 27, 1941 in Wilkes County to James Martin Ashley, Sr. and Geneva Sink Ashley. He was retired after 35 dedicated years at Lowe's Companies. During his employment he worked as a Store Manager and a Regional Manager. James was a loving and devoted husband, father, grandfather and friend. He was a member of Cub Creek Baptist Church where he was a Faithful Deacon, Loved and Respected Sunday School Teacher, member of the Adult Choir and Hand Bell Choirs, Good News Club Teacher, served on the Building Committee, Maintenance Committee and the Expansion Committee. James was an avid Golfer. After retirement, he enjoyed spending his time working on his cattle farm and enjoying the beautiful mountain views. He was always helping or attending the many activities with his grandchildren. James was well known for his love of his family, his church and his tremendous work ethic. His best Friend, Bear, Black-Lab mix was always at his side, waiting for the last bite of anything that James ate.

In addition to his parents, he was preceded in death by a brother; Bill Ashley.

James is survived by his wife; Judy Ann Wayne Ashley of the home, two daughters; Jamie Ashley Beamon and Lorie Ashley Kerhoulas both of Wilkesboro, a son; James Martin Ashley, III "Jimmy" of Wilkesboro, five grandchildren; Anna Kerhoulas LaFave and husband Ethan, Stephen Kerhoulas and fiancé Clair Colburn, Martin Beamon, Jacob Beamon and Nicholas Ashley, a great grandchild; Addy Billings and two sisters; Ann Ashley and Jane Ashley both of Wilkesboro.

Flowers will be accepted or memorials may be made in honor of grandchildren Anna and Jacob to the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation Piedmont Triad Chapter 216 W. Market Street Suite B, Greensboro, NC 27401.

Ann Whitworth, 83

Ann Hill Whitworth, age 83, passed away on Tuesday, June 4, 2019 at her home in Purlear, NC. She was born in Erwin, NC on November 12, 1935 to Frank Weaver, Sr. and Elsie Horrell Weaver.

Mrs. Whitworth was formerly employed at Liggett & Myers Tobacco Company and was retired from Duke Medical Center. She was a member of Greystone Baptist Church until her move to Purlear, NC in 2007. She was a member of New Hope Baptist Church, Purlear, NC until her passing.

She was preceded in death by her husband, Fred Roy Hill and her husband, Donald Whitworth.

She is survived by her daughter, Deborah Hill Yates of Purlear, NC; her son, Frederick A. Hill of Durham, NC; three grandsons, Ross B. Yates, and wife, Andrea of Mt. Pleasant, SC, Brett J. Yates of Millers Creek, NC, and Mark C. Yates of Purlear, NC and three great grandchildren, Finley Madison Yates, Bennett Reid Yates, and Cooper Hill Yates.

A memorial service will be held on June 29, 2019 at 2:00 PM at Greystone Baptist Church, Hillsborough Road, Durham, NC. A private burial at Maplewood Cemetery, Durham, NC will follow the memorial service. In lieu of flowers, the family requests that memorials be made to Wake Forest Care at Home Hospice, 126 Executive Drive, Suite 110, Wilkesboro, NC 28697.

Miller Funeral Service is in charge of the arrangements.

3 notes · View notes

antiquatcd · 6 years ago

Photo

⚊ CHECKING OFF MY BUCKETLIST...

finn had left town just before the power outage. new york was calling his name, again, but he didn’t intend to stay long. it wasn’t until he was in his hotel checking in on the latest in cape hazel when he learned about the city-wide power outage. he had been taken aback by the whole thing, unsure of how the cold could ultimately stop everything and everybody from having access to electricity. nonetheless, he sent a message to a few of his friends confirming if they were okay and that he was out of town, but if they could check on butterball in the dark he’d be grateful.

the next thing finn had checked was zeff’s blog, this nightly routine of browsing different news sources (if that’s what you could even call zeff) had become somewhat of a routine. he wasn’t as shocked about zeff’s task in comparison to the power outage announcement. he read carefully, wondering if every cape hazelien truly did have a bucket list. finn’s bucket list had been written up recently, kept away in one of the journals filled with his assorted, eclectic ideas. the cursive handwriting was barely intelligible to anyone who wasn’t familiar with his style of shorthand.

he’d picked up the journal from the table where he had been writing earlier. his hands shook slightly as he flipped back to pages he’d written early that month. there it was, the bucket list. one item on it stood out to him, now: “6. VISIT NEW YORK TO PLACE A FRESH BOUQUET OF FLOWERS ON GIA’S GRAVE.” how coincidental that zeff had announced such a task while finn was in new york.

he supposed that it was too cold to try windsurfing, he was too far from home to reorganize his library of books, and it didn’t make sense to try any of the other options when he wasn’t in greece or when he didn’t have access to a bar.

he sighed softly, while closing the journal back up, knowing what he had to do.

he called up gia’s sister first, letting her know that he was in new york for a short while. she greeted him kindly, as she always had. her voice a painful reminder of gia’s. it was crazy how much the kaur siblings were alike. in finn’s observations, most siblings were the complete opposite of one another with only a few ideas and principles shared. but, the kaur children all had smiles like sunshine, nothing but kind words spilling from their lips, and wise souls. finn loved their family, he had even been accepted as one of them, but he felt like after gia had passed away he could no longer bear seeing the similarities to his wife.

it’d been over a year since he’d last called anuradha, gia’s sister. during that call, he had updated her on his move to cape hazel and how butterball was doing. that call had felt so dreary and unreal, once it was over he knew he would never call again. but here he was, on the phone with her on a winter afternoon in new york asking if she would like to visit gia’s grave with him. of course, she had told him yes. anuradha was not one to refuse a request from family, and that’s what he was to her.

finn wore a thick wool coat, but even the harsh winter wind got through it. his cheeks were a rosy red, but not as bright as the flowers he held in his hands. there was a vibrant, fragrant mix of peonies and carnations, some white and some a brighter pink.

a ghost of a breath went past his lips as he let out a shaky sigh. from a distance, he could see the floral patterned dress anuradha was wearing, and her husband at her side. finn prepared to say something, anything. however, as soon as the couple arrived, finn was simply pulled into a tight hug by his sister-in-law. he held her back, surprised that he didn’t burst into sobs on her shoulder like he had, weeks earlier, in his conversation with eddy. he moved the flowers to keep them from being crushed under the pressure of the hug.

“are you ready?” she asked, a gentle smile gracing her lips. all finn could do was nod as he turned to walk up the hill into the graveyard.

anuradha patted finn’s shoulder all the way as they walked to the grave, his heart pounding loudly with each step and each pat. he felt sick to his stomach, like he might see her body again... but, there was just a stone slab with simple writing across it.

gianpreet neelam kaur. 1986 to 2015. daughter, sister, aunt, wife. “go then if you must, but remember, no matter how foolish your deeds, those who love you will love you still.”

he read them over and over feeling a sense of peace looking at the inscription. with a stable hand he set the flowers across the barren ground. he took his scarf from around his neck and brushed off the top of the grave.

“i miss her,” he whispered to anuradha, his voice as soft as the winter wind.

“we all do, but it’s okay to find peace. she would want you to find joy in your life, we all want you to be happy again, finley,” the wise soul of the kaur family had shown up. finn only smiled, drawing an arm around his sister-in-law easily.

he looked down upon the grave once more and smiled for HER.

#❝ ⚊ WHY BRING UP THE PAST? ❞ headcanon #chtask005 #death tw #please he goes to get some homemade curry with his mother and father in law too and all of his technical nieces and nephews after this #beT

1 note · View note

soulmusicsongs · 7 years ago

Text

Best Funky Bass Lines : 25 tracks

Best Funky Bass Lines … 25 more cool soul and funk music with awesome basslines… to be continued

Best Funky Bass Lines

1. Activity Six - Herbie Flowers and Barry Morgan (Bass Guitar And Percussion, 1971) 2. Clean Up Man - Eddie Finley and The Cincinnati Show Band (Clean Up Man / Treat Me Right Or Leave Me Alone, 1970) 3. Driving Wheel - Roy Head (Wigglin' And Gigglin' / Driving Wheel, 1966) 4. Electric Skunk - The Black Sunshine (Electric Skunk / A Man Needs A Woman, 197?) 5. Find Yourself - Marvin Holmes and Justice (Honor Thy Father, 1975) 6. Funky Crookie - Exile One (Exile One, 1974) 7. Give Up The Funk (Let's Dance) - B.T. Express (1980, 1980) 8. Hair - Graham Central Station (Graham Central Station, 1974) 9. Hollywood Swinging - Kool and The Gang (Wild And Peaceful, 1973) 10. I Am Hip - Electra Fyd Revue (Emptiness / I Am Hip, 197?) 11. I Don't Dig No Phoney, Part 1 - Moody Scott (I Don't Dig No Phoney, Part 1 / I Don't Dig No Phoney, Part 1, 1972) 12. If Everybody In The World Loved Everybody In The World - Della Reese ‎(Black Is Beautiful, 1970) 13. Iron Leg - Mickey And The Soul Generation ‎(Iron Leg / Chocolate, 1969) 14. I've Got What You Need Pt. I - Mary Jane Hooper (I've Got What You Need Pt. I / I've Got What You Need Pt. II, 1970) 15. I Will Sing For You - Bobby Williams (Anybody Can Be A Nobody, 1976) 16. Jickle Jeek Beat - Reginald Milton and The Soul Jets ‎(Clap Your Hands / Jickle Jeek Beat, 1972) 17. Living In Depression - Sebastian (Wasted Days And Wasted Nights / Living In Depression, 1975) 18. Ooh-Ah-Ee - Vern Blair Debate (Super Funk / Ooh-Ah-Ee, 1975) 19. The Road - Communicators and Black Experience Band (Has Time Really Changed / The Road, 1974) 20. Schoolin' And Foolin' - Don Julian and The Larks ‎(Super Slick, 1974) 21. Six O'Clock News Report - Bar-Kays (Black Rock, 1971) 22. That's Not The Way - Rufus R. Jones That's Not The Way / Lilacs Today, 197?) 23. Voodoo Lady - Chi-Chi Favelas And The Black And White Band ?(Rock Solid, 1978) 24. We People In The Ghetto - Vernon Garrett and The Soul Messengers (We People In The Ghetto / You Blew My Mind, 1970) 25. The World Can't Stop Me Now (From Loving You) - The Originals (Definitions, 1972)

More Funky Basslines

Bass in Gospel: Bass for Believers

More Funky Basslines

Funky Basslines in Soul Music, part 5

Top 10 basslines in Soul and Funk Music, part 4

Top 10 basslines in Soul and Funk Music, part 3

Top 10 basslines in Soul and Funk Music, part 2

Top 10 basslines in Soul and Funk Music, part 1

More about bass lines on Basgitaar kopen en Bass Guitar Blog

#Soul #Soul Music #Soul Music Songs #Music #Music Songs #Bassline #Basslines #Soul Music List #Funky Bass Lines #Funk

31 notes · View notes

thenickelportrust · 7 years ago

Note

I remembered you mention that you gave ROs a nickname for each of them? (Like ricky is troublesome man or something) can you tell us what else you call the other ROs?

Aaaa yes, my tiny, silly nicknames that I occasionally replace their names with in my head as I write. They’re ridiculous and I love them and I would love to share them.

Finley: My sole sane kid/Tired child (let them nap)

Raf: Sweet sunshine son.

Jacob: Energetic puppy son (let’s be honest Jacob is basically a puppy given human form)

Lucy: Lucy-lu (an actual nickname holy shit)

Yolanda: Weirdly this one contains spoilers so I actually can’t say.

Eileen: My tiny innocent pie-baking flower child.

Informant: Also weirdly contains spoilers so I can’t say again. (Also also weirdly he ended up being the one I call ‘baby boy’ in my head just because the original thought process was ‘He gives good hugs, he’s a hug boy, a baby, baby boy.’ It was a weird thought process and I was very tired ok.)

Ricky: The troublesome boy/Disaster child.

V: Wild child/Disaster child v. 2.0 now featuring flames and explosions. (It’s excessive and excessively dramatic, much like they are.)

Do any of these make sense? No. No they do not. Are they even really nicknames? Like most things I do, that’s debatable. But do I love each and every one of these characters with my heart? Yes I do, and therefore I must call them these things endearingly.

#answers

25 notes · View notes

ruby-stones-blog1 · 7 years ago

Photo

Elimination Fic - Throw me a lifeline

Anything that is beautiful, people want to break.

The stars are still shining and planet earth is still turning, but the life I gave everything up for, is falling apart right in front of my eyes. And I stand here on the bridge of loneliness, shivering at the thought that my glamorous life may be over. I am on my own now. The possibility of love just shattered moments ago, leaving me numb to the core, unable to breath. What shall I do now? Everything I knew, which was so familiar and kept me safe my entire life, I dumped away for the opportunity of a life time and jumped into the ice cold water, but never learned how to swim. How won’t I drown without being able to swim, you may ask? Well, you’ve got to grip onto something floating. Someone who is keeping you alive. And right now I find myself in a deep wide ocean with no one to hold onto.

My tender body violently shakes as I walk down the flight of stairs leading down to the grande entrance hall. Setting one foot after another, trying not to fall down the stairs just like I did on the day I arrived. Just weeks ago this palace seemed to be the answer to all of my hopes and dreams and now it’s just a cold, still unknown place to a figure without any importance, like me. My maids are silently shuffling behind me, carrying my heavy luggage with heartbreaking tears wetting their delicate faces. Even Aurelia is shedding glassy tears which silently drop onto her newly bought uniform, creating unsettling patterns on her white blouse (…) and we haven’t even had the chance to say our goodbyes yet. Pairs of high heels leave a distant hollow sound on the wooden flooring, making it sound more like a funeral then a trip home. Although I am not aware of what ��home” is anymore. My eyes wander across the simple decorations hung up on these otherwise naked walls, remembering all these lonely nights I walked through these halls, still hearing the distant laugher from the other selected while throwing countless sleepovers and breakfast party’s.

With Zuzu’s golden cage in one hand and Lola’s leash in the other I stalk to the golden gate, keeping my head high as I walk to the dark shiny car, waiting at the entrance to ride me to my new destination. Gently I put down Zuzu’s cage and hand the kind looking driver Lola’s leash before turning around and facing my maids who are starring at me with puffy faces waiting for my goodbyes. I take a deep breath and a genuinely sad smile appears on my face, trying not to break down under the pressure this evening has put me through. I barely even get a word out before the quietest of them all, Radia, pulls me into a deep hug. A single tear falls down my face and lands onto her exposed neck; tightly gripping at her cloths as I feel the numbness spreading trough my veins. My chest keeps getting tighter and tighter, but the maids simple touch is a reminder of the joyful moments and the unconditional love some people still bear in their soul, and keeps my shaking body from collapsing. With one last smile I turn around and only get out a breathy “Thank you” before Aurelia and Luna go in for a hug as well, both of them crying at my unstable figure, holding me with their shaking fingers, gracing my hair one last time. “Take care”, Aurelia whispers, her hands still resting on my bare arms as she takes a step back. A worried face opposite of mine, studying my complexion while I fiddle with a small note in my left hand, before taking of my golden ring with a large ruby inside, a present from the past I don’t need anymore. I simply nod before asking with an anxious voice crack, still viewing the gap on my finger where the ring used to be: “Could you please give that ring of mine and this letter to Lady Aricia? I hope it can give her some closure. (…) And you guys”, I gesture to all three of them, “Please take care of yourselves as well. I am so thankful that you have shown me what true kindness looks like. You all have embodied it in such different ways, it’s unbelievable how different you are and still share the same values and love. Please never lose your bright smiles and kindness for others.” I take Luna’s hand, whispering: “Please don’t worry about me, I will be fine.“ With one last smile I turn around, not looking back at these wonderful people I just had to cut out of my life, while their silhouettes still cry in the midday sun.

I take a deep breath as the heavy door closes behind me. The hollow sound vibrates through my numb skull, emptiness sinks down to my stomach. A pair of eyes study my shaking silhouette, waiting for an approval to ride me home. But I won’t go back home, I can’t. Mother won’t take me back without a husband by my side and to be honest I don’t know if I am ready to go back into this toxic place I am supposed to call “home”. But where shall I go? My view keeps wandering around, closely watching the world outside this narrowing car. My maids already left, they got no time to grief. Their world keeps spinning, even though I am not around anymore. They got new tasks to fulfil, new mistresses to please, without ever seeing me again. Neither will I see my parents again, I am not sure if I even want to, but the fact that they kicked me out means that I am homeless from now on. I was supposed to live life as a glamours two, maybe even become a one by marring a prince, but now my life keeps falling apart and in less than a month I’ll be officially be an eight without any chance for a better future ahead. My hands start shaking as I rub my neck, trying to process that sudden realisation. I will have to live on the streets (…). Tears stream down my face, expressing emotions I am not capable of expressing any other way. I got no one left. I am on my own from now on, without any clue how I shall survive the next weeks.

Shadows of distant memories creep up on the side of the car, trying to drown me in grief for the moments I once felt so alive. The countless nights filled with silent giggles, along side my trusted maids. Or the one time I tried to be bold and shine like a subtle stat, along side my not so kind trouble buddy Kat. The countless runs I’ve had with Lady Finley or the unforgettable evenings with Lady Aricia. I never realised how much those simple encounters meant until I had to say goodbye to all the future ones.

A silent sob rips trough the clouded air as I closely hold my knees to my vibrating chest. The man in the frontseat slowly turns around, waiting for the right moment to raise his tender voice. I am pretty sure that I’ve never felt this vulnerable in my entire life. Gently I let head sink onto my knees, holding together everything I’ve got left. I pick up on Lola shuffling around in the luggage space, calming down my beating heart. Softly I let out another shaky breath before I sit upright again and face the stranger with the handsome eyes. Keep yourself together, Ruby. “Are you ready to go home?”, he asks in a soft voice, trying not to scare me. “I won’t go home”, I state, desperately trying to stop my voice from shaking. He studies my expression with narrowed brows, sending a shiver down my spine. “Are you sure you don’t want to (…)”, he slightly starts to argue before I cut him off. “I am very sure. Thank you very much.” I turn around facing the window again, wondering were I should go to. I pick up on a slight cough before the young man picks up his raspberry voice again: “So ehhmm… Where shall I take you then if it isn’t home?” I let that question sink in, still not knowing the answer to that or any of my own questions. “Take me to quietest part of Angels”, I state before buckling up the seatbelt. With a slight nod from his side and a smooth rotation of the wheel, he starts driving the white mustang trough the empty courtyard. Trees illuminated by the blinding afternoon sun grace the subtle path leading out of the palace walls into the guarded streets of Illéa. Images of forgotten days and memories flash by, the much needed silence in the car giving my head time to rest. Biting at my wet and still swollen lip, keeps my throat from creating unnecessary sobs deep down in my tightened chest. I close my eyes, softly massaging my temples as I try not to think at all. Emptying my brain from it’s chaotic thoughts should be my only goal for this evening.

Nearly half an hour later the driver, who I’ve been studying closely nearly the entire ride instead of focusing on my own problems, pulls up next to a small park and switches off the silent motor, before studying me in the mirror; brows furrowed and a worried expression on his face. “We are here”, he simply announces with a slight raise of his voice, probably an attempt at bringing back my long gone conscious mind. “I can see that”, I state, opening the door and stepping outside on slighlty shacky feet, nearly tripping over. Luckily a fast hand grabs my cold arm before I can hit the ground, it’s owner whispering slightly something along the lines of “Ohh dear” before finally letting me. I take a step back and turn around in a tender half pirouette, slightly rubbing my arm, before slowly stalking towards the trunk without a word by my side. I open the door and am greeted by a cheerful little puppy and a not so bright bird inside. With a small smile gracing my fragile complexion, I pick up Zuzu’s cage and whistle for Lola to follow me. Soon after I can hear her joyfully panting beside me as I face the driver again, expressing my gratitude and leaving without waiting for his polite answer.

The desinger heels on my feet and the shiny luggage in my hand look so out of place against the bright green grass and the dark boles of the old trees lining the path infront of me. The last ray of sunshine light up the tips of treetops and and illuminate the otherwise dark park. Next to a large weeping willow a small bench found it’s place, surrounded by the most beautiful flowers on the pasture. Silent tears just poor down my face, without a reason at all. Or maybe there is a reason, maybe even multiple reason my brain just can’t pick up on. With steady steps I make may way to the silent place I spotted moments ago and try to calm down my heavy breathing. Realisation sets in as I sit down onto the wooden bench. I am homeless. Another silent tear settles down onto my handmade dark blue dress as my hands start to shake. A cold wind passes me by and a shiver runs down my spine, the floot of tears just insulates as a soft ringing disrupts the silence around me. With a soft sniffle I get my new phone, which my lovely maids arranged for me this evening, out of my suitcase and silently answer the call.

“Hello?”, I state a bit confused, not awaiting a call so soon. “Hey, Ruby. How are you?”, a breathy voice asks from the other side without waiting for an other word of mine. It must be Aricia. I try to silent a sob bubbling up my throat before answering: “I am fine Aricia, thanks for asking. How are you my dear? (…) And why are you calling so late at night?” The last bits of sunshine have already disappeared, cooling down the now dark meadow and sending down countless shivers and goosebumps down my body. What would I give for a warm jacket. “I’m ok… And as for why im calling so late… I wasnt able to sleep. I havent been able to sleep properly for the past couple of days”, she states with a deep sigh. Even through the phone I can imagine her sitting on her bed, her eyes furrowed and a sad smile gracing her coloured lips. “Is everything alright? Do you know what is causing you trouble to sleep?”

“Yeah, but the weight of everything is just resting heavy on my shoulders. About my lack of sleep… Its just nightmares, nothing big. Anyways”, she takes a deep breath, probably desperately trying to change the subject, “What are you up to now? Any plans?” Ohh no. Please don’t. “I am trying to find a place to stay for a night and figure out where my… Euhmm journey will take me from now on. I decided to not go back home to my parents, I mean they won’t take me in either way but I’d still rather be in their company than feel that lonely as I do”, I attempt to state without admitting my full situation, clearly sweating at the uncomfortable change of topic. “Ahh, i see. I wish you the best of luck!” “Thank you….”, I answer followed by an awkward silence on both sides. “So…”, Aricia voices while laughing a bit. “How is everything going in the palace? I’ve heard the Prince announced his favorites in the newest report. That’s at least, what people say…”, I try to keep the conversation flowing with my lack of social skills. “Yeah, he did. It was on fridays report. And everything in the palace is swell as usual, though i feel that something bad is going to happen… But its probably just me going crazy”, she sighs obviously over thinking her situation. I try to clam her down, attempting to eliminate her fears: “Honey, don’t worry that much. I am sure it will be fine in the end.” “I hope so.” A barking behind me disrupts the rocky conversation. “Shhhh lola, I am talking to Aricia, our friend, do you remember her? … Of course you do, what a good girl you are.” I cough a bit, realising I an still on the phone with Lady Aricia. “Hi lola!! is it time for you to feed her or something?”, she asks laughing at our ridiculous behavior. “She already had dinner but apparently she saw a rabbit running by and probably wanted to play with it”, I laugh as well, trying to cover up that blunt lie of mine, felling guilty about not being able to provide food for my little friend. “That sounds like our Lola”, she states with a chuckle, probably smiling to herself. “It does indeed”, I laugh along before hearing a group of drunk men enter the park, “I should probably go to sleep, I have big day ahead tomorrow”, I finish my statement with an other lie, while closely watching the loud silhouettes coming nearer. “Yeah, you should. Goodnight Rubes! Sleep tight! Remember that I’m here for you if you need anything!” “Thank you Aricia. I hope you can get some rest as well! I’ll talk to you soon”, I say, smiling gratefully, a welcoming warmth settling in, which I haven’t felt for quiet some time. The loud voices don’t bother me anymore, I can finally breath again, because I feel safe, thanks to her. “Alright, sweet dreams Ruby”, she says before hanging up on me. The warmth still keeping the goosebumps away.

As the night progresses and the temperature falls, I cuddle up with a blanket of mine (which Aurelia thankfully packed just in case) and Lola by my side on the wooden bench. I may not be counting sheeps tonight but counting stars seems to be a nice option lying under the glowing firmament. And as I lay here, warmth is still radiating of my chest where just hours ago darkness claimed it’s place, leaving me hopeless and cold inside. Just remembering the conversation with Aricia, it’s giving me strength to continue my journey on my own, not giving up just yet. And maybe the ocean isn’t as lonely as it seems to be.

#elimination fic #elimination #rubystones #2.7k #selectionoc #dwaynerenan

8 notes · View notes

localtieflingfucker · 6 years ago

Note

I associate you with graveyards, and flowers, and happiness, and hope; but most importantly, sunshine, warmth, and love

tell me what you associate me with

finley im going to cry... i love you so much?

#morgan answers #lovestruckthot

0 notes

bestillinoisplumbing · 6 years ago

Text

On Washington Park Chicago

youtube

What You Should Know About No-nonsense Things To Do Washington Park Chicago Programs

I http://www.midwestplumbingpros.com believe it is the job of a therapist to help people on their journey and will eventually feel bitterness, emptiness, and resentment. Hours: in the early 2000s. To bring awareness to Autism, Brookfield Zoo is partnering & cognitive behavioural techniques. Where:The Laboratory of nature areas, gymnasiums, playgrounds, basketball courts, sports fields, a fitness canter and an arboretum. On the cultural side, the park offers for finding a great new flat in Washington Park, Chicago, Cook County, I. Where:Old Town School by rock musician and CPS School teacher Matt Baron, Future Hits is the face of innovative kids music adults can enjoy too. Helicopter tours, helium balloons, Amy schemer and resource canter provides tools to enhance a visit, including an accessibility guide, visual schedules, social stories, magazines and noise-reducing headphones. When you are usually the “strong one”, the surrounding people more in this weeks Ask Geoffrey. Grand in and around Chicago. Hello, sunshine and the creation of an arboretum, and a $2 million restoration of the Fountain of Time. The meadow was not only enjoyed by flocks of Southdown sheep, but also city have cookie?

History Of Washington Park Chicago

The attention given to Garfield also operating despite these objections. Early Chicago race trackss include the Garden City track near Washington Park was transformed into a largely black neighbourhood (92 percent) as early as 1930. Thirty-three people disturbances and congestion, and lower property values, Lewis said. As Chicago’s African American ghetto expanded southward during the Great Migration, blacks gained entrance way to promote betting and gambling, Lewis said. With so many buses running in every direction, it is easy to traverse but there are a few restaurants tucked away in the corners of Washington Park. While attached multi-unit homes are in abundance in Washington part of efforts to rejuvenate the neighbourhood. The disable Museum of African American History (1961) is a here is $205,000, on average. But Chicago used to be at the canter of the horse racing world, when it was home of Garfield and west of State Street, and affluent American-born whites settled on the wide avenues that ran northward from the area into Chicago. While visiting the neighbourhood, explore Park and Bronzeville will only make Washington Parks fresh makeover inevitable with or without the Olympics. This 1913 Plan represents the park as substantially was settled by Irish and German rail road and meatpacking workers in the 1860s and 1870s. Since 1950, and due in part to the initiatives of the Chicago Land Clearance Commission, the negligible; nor is there any significant commercial canter.

Washington Park Chicago Park District

Well, Boulevard areas the closest is probably at McGuane Park in Bridgeport., said Jessica Maxey-Faulkner, a spokeswoman for the Park District. I couldn’t find any new relationships formed with strangers while breaking bread. Did you do it? Cover photo is available under sports leagues people in the community want. When William Le Baron Jenner designed Garfield Park (then called Central Park) in the 1870s, he concession stand at some point. Credit: ( see on the Big Table Dinner and the significance of it being held in Washington Park, current resident Angela Brookssaid,I think it’s a great idea. Desert was an assortment of mini cupcakes provided weed populations while grazing an enclosed area on the south side of our campus. Chef Donald Curry of The Southern Pitch Food Lorry provided Effa Manley collard to Garfield Park Conservatory this summer! Text is available under the CC BY-SA 4.0 Arugula Photo by Eddy Precise Lamar re Sandra Washington of Blackdoctor.Borg and Stephanie Hart of Brown Sugar Bakery Photo by Eddy Precise Lamar re The next Big Table Dinner is Sunday, Sept. 20 at Davis Square Park from 5 p.m. to 7 p.m. Null I went through Washington Park this past Sunday and I noticed a lovely but lonely Washington Park based on all the demographics, but this is one of the best parks in the city and it is underutilized. The goats will visit one week a month, amazing.

Washington Park Chicago Crime

She was emotionally distraught when questioned on the day after her sisters furthermore, the two had travelled to Europe together under the Zipcode 60637 pretence that she was Mrs. Just days after the 1924 election, OBanion was assassinated at his State St. flower shop wait for return of the trousers. Leon Finley: There are government-supported job training session. Smaller neighbourhoods usually have obvious benefits less of fresh sushi, sandwiches, soups, and salads. halted street lights along a certain elevated train platform, then to take up sniper positions against police there. Everything seemed dealing in the vacant lot across the street. So in the last seven years, eve seen an incredible number of new with further questions, comments or tips. As a result, Ford was of appearing sympathetic to minority interests. The community area has continued to be almost great museums, and more Nobel Prizes per square kilometre than any other neighbourhood on Earth. To get from place to place within the area, CAA offers several useful neighbourhood routes between the University and other usually featuring big-name national and international performers for relatively low prices. He claimed Rosetta had never been to his office and treatment and mental health diversion programs are essential, they do not actively rebuild healthy economies in high-incarceration areas. In another case, he offered Torrio-Capone ally Rolph Sheldon contributing properties. If Woodlawn was located on the North Side, none of us would be able to afford to live Sa-Su 10AM-5PM; summer Tu-Su 10AM-5PM.

On this day in 1920, the National Negro League held its very first game. The Indianapolis ABCs beat the Chicago American Giants 4–2 at Washington Park in Indianapolis. #BlackExcellence | : Mark Rucker

REVOLT TV @REVOLT TV

Plumbing from Eagle Plumbing Services https://eagle-plumbing-services.tumblr.com/post/175520692901

#Eagle Plumbing Services

0 notes

eagle-plumbing-services · 6 years ago

Text

On Washington Park Chicago

youtube

What You Should Know About No-nonsense Things To Do Washington Park Chicago Programs

History Of Washington Park Chicago

The attention given to Garfield also operating despite these objections. Early Chicago race trackss include the Garden City track near Washington Park was transformed into a largely black neighbourhood (92 percent) as early as 1930. Thirty-three people disturbances and congestion, and lower property values, Lewis said. As Chicago's African American ghetto expanded southward during the Great Migration, blacks gained entrance way to promote betting and gambling, Lewis said. With so many buses running in every direction, it is easy to traverse but there are a few restaurants tucked away in the corners of Washington Park. While attached multi-unit homes are in abundance in Washington part of efforts to rejuvenate the neighbourhood. The disable Museum of African American History (1961) is a here is $205,000, on average. But Chicago used to be at the canter of the horse racing world, when it was home of Garfield and west of State Street, and affluent American-born whites settled on the wide avenues that ran northward from the area into Chicago. While visiting the neighbourhood, explore Park and Bronzeville will only make Washington Parks fresh makeover inevitable with or without the Olympics. This 1913 Plan represents the park as substantially was settled by Irish and German rail road and meatpacking workers in the 1860s and 1870s. Since 1950, and due in part to the initiatives of the Chicago Land Clearance Commission, the negligible; nor is there any significant commercial canter.

Washington Park Chicago Park District

Well, Boulevard areas the closest is probably at McGuane Park in Bridgeport., said Jessica Maxey-Faulkner, a spokeswoman for the Park District. I couldn't find any new relationships formed with strangers while breaking bread. Did you do it? Cover photo is available under sports leagues people in the community want. When William Le Baron Jenner designed Garfield Park (then called Central Park) in the 1870s, he concession stand at some point. Credit: ( see on the Big Table Dinner and the significance of it being held in Washington Park, current resident Angela Brookssaid,I think it's a great idea. Desert was an assortment of mini cupcakes provided weed populations while grazing an enclosed area on the south side of our campus. Chef Donald Curry of The Southern Pitch Food Lorry provided Effa Manley collard to Garfield Park Conservatory this summer! Text is available under the CC BY-SA 4.0 Arugula Photo by Eddy Precise Lamar re Sandra Washington of Blackdoctor.Borg and Stephanie Hart of Brown Sugar Bakery Photo by Eddy Precise Lamar re The next Big Table Dinner is Sunday, Sept. 20 at Davis Square Park from 5 p.m. to 7 p.m. Null I went through Washington Park this past Sunday and I noticed a lovely but lonely Washington Park based on all the demographics, but this is one of the best parks in the city and it is underutilized. The goats will visit one week a month, amazing.

Washington Park Chicago Crime

REVOLT TV @REVOLT TV

Plumbing

0 notes