#title is from a kacey musgraves lyric!!

[sqyyadina]

wrap me in your arms like i'm made of glass.

Pairing: Lorraine Warren X Reader

Word Count: 7.5k

Tags: possessed!reader, exorcism, self flagellation / self harm, disordered eating, mommy issues, hurt/comfort!

Summary: You've been fighting an evil spirit on your own for months, until an angel falls on your doorstep, and you no longer have to fight alone.

Author’s Note: This one is sort of dark, ee!! Sometimes a girl just needs to write an exorcism, I guess!! This is my first go of anything horror/angsty, so uhm.. it might be kinda bad. This is also on my AO3!!

It hates the cold.

As do you.

Yet somehow, as you lay by the flung-open bay window, watching the tiny, crystalline flakes fall to cover your once-blossoming hydrangea bushes, you feel your head silence for the first time in weeks. The lightweight blanket draped over your knees isn’t much help to fight the tremble in your fingers, which are wrapped tightly around a mug of hot chocolate— you’ve been falling victim to your sweet-toothed cravings lately, considering this very well may be your last chance to do so.

The television across the room hums whatever country music variety show is on this early in the morning; a few cars pass by outside, splashing up muddy sludge into your front yard. You can’t help but wince at the action. You once dedicated so much time to perfecting your lawn, just for all of that hard work to become irrelevant in a few short hours. It’s probably been decades since this town last saw any snow. You’d never seen so much as a cold rain in your few decades of living. It seems that Hell’s finally frozen over. It’s a shame you never paid attention in church long enough to find out what to do in such an event.

You’re feeling weak. This isn’t a new sensation. Weeks’ worth of sleep interrupted by family photos flung off of walls in the middle of the night truly does begin to take a toll on a young woman’s body. Not that you ever had much energy to begin with, what with the early mornings spent tending to horses and late nights attending to sick barn cats.

It’s quite shocking just how much energy a demonic being inhabiting your body saps up.

It only takes a few minutes, lounged by the window and focus blurring out on the white mounds of snow, for you to loll off to sleep, cocoa spilling onto your favorite quilt, but you’re not lucid enough to notice.

It’s a very gentle knock at your door that rips you from your slumber. Your encounter with whatever beast has been haunting your every move has made you an incredibly light sleeper. At this point, you could be woken by a light breath against your face. You believe you already have, a few times now.

It’s incredibly difficult for you to stand from your position on your once pristine, now chocolate-stained sofa, but you make it upright eventually. The blood comes rushing to your head at the sudden swing upright, your feet heavy against the cold hardwood floor that you never bothered to buy a rug for. Your feet were calloused enough, there was no need for comfort for something already so broken.

You cling desperately to the heavy front door that, by some act of God, you manage to swing open.

The light you’re met with is blinding. You’re not sure if it’s the sun’s rays beating off of the snow and directly into your eyes, or if the woman at your doorstep just naturally emanates such a light.

“Hi there.” Her voice is so kind and warm that your entire body feels like you’ve been sat next to a fireplace. Once your eyes fully adjust to the light surrounding your savior, you notice that her face holds a slightly bewildered look, but like she’s trying to hide it. To remain professional, to not let you in on the fact that there’s quite literally a demon hanging over your shoulders.

You take her outstretched hand in your own, shaking it weakly, and as you do, her expression is replaced by a frown. “I’m Loraine Warren,” She hums, wrapping another hand around yours, seemingly trying to bring heat to the five icicles you call fingers. “and you’re freezing.” You muster up a lackluster smile, ruminating in the warmth from the hands wrapped around your own for as long as she’ll allow. Your visitor doesn’t pull back until you do, to let her into your home.

Mrs. Warren has clearly not come prepared for this entirely unforeseen snow, seeing as she’s dressed in a plaid, tea-length dress, with only a light cardigan hung from her shoulders. There wasn’t a single weatherman on any of your very limited channels that had predicted this sort of weather this far south of the Mason-Dixon.

“Thank you…” You begin, leading the taller woman to your living room, where you practically fall to your position on the sofa again. “For coming to meet with me, Mrs. Warren. I’m so very appreciative.” Your eyelids are heavy, and your cheeks hurt with the strain of a smile, but you still force yourself to engage as delicately as you can with this woman, both for the beauty that you find so enticing, and for the fact that she very well may save your life.

The affliction you’d been suffering for the past few weeks of your life… you weren’t entirely sure what it was. At first, waking up standing in the kitchen and holding a knife to your own throat was something you could pass off as a traumatizing night of sleepwalking. The sudden headaches and physical aversion to reading your leatherbound, heavily annotated bible made you think you had suffered a concussion from falling out of bed one too many times.

Seeing the Warrens on your favorite morning talk show was what led you to raise your own suspicions. The way they spoke of a young girl in Poughkeepsie who had begun levitating in the middle of the night, who began seizing when she was read the word of God… You couldn’t help but see the similarities.

You couldn’t have possibly called the demonologists sooner.

On the phone, you spoke to a man. He was much heftier with the way he spoke, clearly the extroverted salesman of the team. He seemed skeptical, and unwilling to leave his home in New England, as he had every right to be. You very well could just have the flu. But you knew, deep down, that you didn’t, and it had to be them. It had to be. You had no other hope of surviving against your oppressor if you had to fight it alone.

Your frantic begging must have been loud enough for the people close to Ed Warren to hear, because as soon as you finished your rambling about how miserable you were, a distant, soft voice came from the other side of the phone.

Ed, listen to her. She needs us.

The line then went muffled, he had placed his palm over the receiver in hopes to hide the fact that they had begun arguing about you. You couldn’t quite make out what was said, only that the woman, Lorraine, very much wanted to come to visit you, and Ed did not.

It was as if by miracle that Lorraine showed up at your door only a day after your phone call.

“Please, call me Lorraine.” The older woman returned, standing above you. “May I ask why you have the windows open? It’s just so nasty out there… it may affect your health, sweetheart.” There’s a little glimmer in her eyes when she presses the back of her hand against your forehead, which, much to her surprise, was just as cold as your hands.

A stubborn frown returned to her pink lips, and Lorraine quickly closed the two windows behind you.

“The cold helps.” You say plainly as Lorraine moves around your vintage furniture to close the windows on the opposite side of the room.

“What do you mean?” She returns to your side, placing your quilt atop your knees and finding another to cover your shoulders. She then sits on the sofa next to you, delicately maneuvering herself underneath your blanket as well.

You blush a little, hiding your face behind the large mug that you’d once discarded.

“This… thing. Whatever’s inside me… it hates the cold.” You reply, staring down at your feet, which wiggle to regain the feeling that the cold air had taken away.

“How do you know?” The clairvoyant muses, reaching up to pet the hair that’s turned into a mat behind your head. You’ve had a horrible go of taking care of yourself lately, with things as simple as brushing your hair disappearing from your mind for days at a time.

“It started snowing just last night… Since then, it’s been quieter. I’ve been able to take control of my life again, at least a little bit.” You hum, leaning into her touch, which has dropped to press comfortingly to your shoulder. “But as soon as I lit a fire, tried to get warm, it all came back. The chaos. The… evil.” You shudder to remember the noise that’s filled your head for the past few days. The screams, the whispered urges to harm yourself and others. It’s like you’ve been sent to your own personal Hell, like God finally punished you for the way that you look at women like Lorraine. 

“You’re a very perceptive girl.” Lorraine offers you a smile, and you find that it may not only be the cold that calms you. Her presence has offered you more solace than any pain killer or chamomile tea has offered you in your entire life.

You try to giggle, try to accept her praise, but her warm touch, paired with your general lack of sleep, has made it truly impossible for you to remain at all upright. You slump over, dropping your cocoa once again, head landing on Lorraine’s shoulder.

“I believe you.” She whispers quietly, maneuvering your shoulders so that your head lays on her lap. The words are all you’ve ever needed to hear. To be assured that you’re not going crazy is all you need in order to finally fall asleep, and the hands that press warmth into your neck and forehead are the best medicine you could take.

You fall asleep in less than a second, your ears muffling all the noise in the room, yet you can still hear your visitor humming along to the tv as your muscles relax into the sofa.

♱

A soft whine escapes your lips before your eyes open. It’s a combination of bright light and tugging at the back of your head that wakes you up, and as much as you detest being stripped from the best sleep you’ve had in at least month, you feel rested enough to accept it.

“I’m so sorry. Keep sleeping, little one.” Your brain fights to register who the voice belongs to, but judging by the fact that you’ve only received one visitor in the past weeks, and the fact that no visitor you’ve ever met has had such a honey-coated voice, you remember right away. It’s Lorraine.

It’s Lorraine, and the light tugging you feel is a comb being pulled through the hair that hasn’t met such a thing in far too long. You’re hit by a sudden wave of embarrassment, knowing that the state of your hair must make you look so pitiful, like a child that can barely take care of herself. You hide your face in your hands, whining once again, hiding from the yellow light of a lamp above you, and from the fact that you look such a mess in the presence of one of the most well-kempt women you’ve ever met.

“I’m all done.” She purrs softly, running her fingers through your now untangled hair, tucking it behind your ear. You sit up, face beet red as you do so. You’re sure you’ve never felt more embarrassed in your entire life.

“Thank you…” You stutter out, voice heavy with sleep. “I’m sorry for falling asleep. I just… haven’t in quite a while. I hope I’m not taking too much of your time.” You glance up at her, eyes squinting to view the porcelain skin adorned by a smile. Lorraine Warren must truly have the kindest heart in the entire world to spend time taking care of someone she’s only just met.

“Don’t you dare apologize.” She says quite firmly, pressing her hand against your cheek, and you can feel yourself becoming addicted to her touch. “I want to take care of you.”

You feel a warmth in your cheeks, and a certain tingling in the pit of your stomach. You’ve never heard these words before, and the last time anyone had earnestly taken care of you was… well, you don’t really remember. It was probably in your early childhood, but even then, you weren’t too sure.

The butterfly wings in your stomach are quickly replaced by a different sensation, a large growling that just about reverberates through the living room. You’re filled with another bout of humiliation, and grip your stomach tightly. You’re also not too sure when you last ate.

A ginger hand presses against your stomach as well, and it dawns on you just how close to the older woman you’ve become. She’s pressed against you so much that you’re nearly sitting in her lap, and her other arm is wrapped around so very tightly around the small of your back. Lorraine is quite the touchy woman, and you couldn’t be more appreciative of such a character trait. You lean into her hands greedily, head tilting over to rest on her shoulder once more.

“Can you stand?” She hums, pressing her cheek to rest on the top of your head.

You nod slowly, not quite too sure that you’re telling the truth, but if Lorraine wants you to stand, you’ll stand. And you do, pushing hard into the ground, thankful that before all of this mess you were at least regularly active, and your body was fairly well maintained from throwing bales of hay.

“Good girl.”

The words make your knees go weak, weaker than they already are, and you falter a little in your steps. You thank God that Lorraine has such a strong grip around your waist and is able to keep you upwards.

“Show me your kitchen?” The clairvoyant asks softly, and while you do just as you’re asked, her steady gaze washes over each little family portrait, each corn husk doll, even the sunhats you’ve worn so much that they’re full of holes. One may see her wandering eyes and find her to be a terrible snoop, but Lorraine is doing her job, gathering every piece of evidence she can to use against your demon. She wants to know everything about your past and present so that she may rid you of this retched thing.

She gets no clue as to what suffering has conflicted this household from the photos of a quite happy family hanging from your walls, but she can sense it in the way the house creaks with her every step. There’s an evil lingering in these walls, and Lorraine can feel it.

“I’m… I’m not sure there’s even any food that’s still edible.” You speak gruffly as you arrive in the kitchen that overlooks your barn that was once such a brilliant red, and now stands with peeling paint and water damage. It’s a proper metaphor for your own status. You haven’t been in this room in many days, and the sight of wilting flowers and rotting vegetables depresses you immediately.

“I’m sure I can make do.” Lorraine shoots you that oh-so very reassuring smile once again, and leads you to sit at the dining table that’s only ever been set for one. “When was the last time you ate?”

It’s a dreaded question. A question that, once again, you don’t have a clear answer to. You think the last thing you ate was a handful of boiled peanuts… or was it oatmeal? Lately you had only had incredibly unpleasant dreams about food, and your brain has been so occupied by so many voices, that sustenance was the last thing on your mind.

“I’m not sure.” You muster in response, and Lorraine’s frown returns once again. She’s not mad at you, only furious at the creature that’s taken hold of you, keeping you from living a healthy life.

“You need to keep yourself fed.” Lorraine speaks softly, peeking out from behind the cabinet she’d begun rummaging around in. “Communing with the being, and an eventual exorcism, will take a lot of energy.”

She speaks so calmly about something that is so terrifying to you. You weren’t raised Catholic, and didn’t know much about their traditions, but the interview that you had watched of the Warrens spelled an exorcism out to be one of the most dangerous, mortifying acts that one could participate in. You trust Lorraine entirely though, and are filled with the knowledge that if she has to do such a thing, she will treat you delicately, and cause as little harm to you as possible.

It's only a few groggy minutes before there’s a plate laid in front of you, and by some act of God Lorraine has found another chair to sit in. She’s pulled up right next to you, and while you’re a bit surprised she hasn’t chosen to sit across from you, her choice is very welcomed. The heat from your plate warms your face, and you press your hands against it in hopes that they’ll warm as well.

“It looks delicious.” You look up to the women through your heavy eyelids, weakly grabbing hold of your fork to start lifting potatoes to your mouth. “I can’t believe you were able to make this so quickly! Thank you so very much.” You smile to her, licking your lips, stomach so very grateful to the woman beside you.

“I’ve always been a good cook. My husband is never very appreciative of my skills.” She laughs softly, but you can tell it’s something that truly upsets her. If you were lucky enough to live in a home with Lorraine Warren and have her food for every meal, you consider yourself to be in Heaven. From your short conversation, Ed didn’t quite seem to be a wholly grateful man. “You’re not married.” She then says, taking a sip from the old whiskey glass that’s now filled with water.

Her words are more observational than questioning, and it causes a twinge of discomfort within you. You’d always been questioned for your spinster-like nature, women in your church always wanted to set you up with their sons or nephews. You’re such a pretty girl, they’d say, why on God’s green Earth aren’t you dating anyone?

It was impossible to tell them that you’d never want to marry a man, even if someone held a gun to your head.

“No…” You reply awkwardly, and the word turns into a yawn, leading you to cover your mouth with one hand. “I’ve just… never met the right person, I guess.” You huff, kicking your elbow up on the table and resting your chin on your fist to keep yourself propped up. Who knew something as simple as lifting a fork to your mouth would be so difficult. “Or… Well…” You start again, feeling almost too comfortable in Lorraine’s presence to share a little more. “I’ve just, never really been interested in anyone.”

When you drop your fork to your plate with quite the dramatic tink, that same loving hand returns to your lower back. Lorraine has taken your fork between her perfectly manicured fingers, and lifts another bite towards your lips, which you not-so-gracefully accept.

“Well, that is a shame.” The brunette responds, and though you can’t see it, there’s the tiniest hint of a smirk on her face. She seems to be a bit too pleased by your loneliness. “I do hope you’ll find someone soon. You are so deserving of love.”

You’re not sure if you’re deserving, but you’re damn well desperate for it.

Lorraine continues to feed you, lifting small bites of vegetable to your lips while whispering her gentle praises after each bite. Your face is now permanently pink, with each of her cooing words turning you into a little mess beneath her. You’re connected at her hip once again, legs tangled around each other under your gingham tablecloth. You’re so very lucky that you never receive any visitors, for you deign to think of anyone’s reaction to your little displays of minute affection.

“I was hoping I might stay with you here. I always find it more helpful to fully integrate myself into the lives of someone I’m helping.” She hums once you’ve finished all of your food, and she can move onto her own. You lean against her shoulder once more, eyes closed, yet you’re completely awake. Her sentence is entirely shocking, yet you’re completely excited by it, and couldn’t possibly accept her request quicker.

“Yes, of course!” You hear the over-enthusiasm in your voice, and hope you haven’t come off too strongly. You sit up to meet her gaze, blushing just from the way she looks at you so sweetly. “I only have the one bedroom, I’m afraid. It’s a bit of a mess at the moment, but I can wash the sheets, and you can sleep there! I spend most of my time on the sofa anyway, I’m happy to sleep there.” You nod cheerfully, hoping with all of your heart that she’ll not be too deterred by your excitement.

“Don’t be silly.” She smiles, lifting her hand to gently pet your hair, her fingernails grazing your scalp in a way that sends a tingle down your spine. “I’ll take your bed, but only if you’re in it as well. If that’s alright with you, of course. I just want to keep an eye on you.” She winks, and it’s that moment that you feel your soul leave your body. You choke on your own saliva, coughing a few times. You’ve been sitting so close to Lorraine today, that you shouldn’t feel so strange about sharing your bed with her, yet it brings a worried feeling to the pit of your stomach. When you explore that feeling more, you’ll find that it’s really excitement, and a desperation to sleep next to another body that you’d never knew you had.

“That’s fine by me…” You stutter, trying to hide the eager smile that’s threatening your lips. You chew on the insides of your cheeks, your hands finding their way to some fabric, not knowing if it’s the tablecloth or your shirt or maybe Lorraine’s skirt. Whatever it is, you grip it tightly, trying to force all of your delight on an object rather than voice it. “It’ll be good to share each other’s’ body heat… it gets so cold at night even without the snow…” Your voice is trembling a little, betraying how fast your heart is racing.

You’re ready for the sun to go down now.

But you still have a few hours of sunlight left, and Lorraine fills it with questions about your family history, about your experience with this malevolent being, and just about your daily life. She wonders what it is that you do for fun in such a small town, and you feel shy to admit that you rarely leave the house except to go to church. That leads her to talk about her own religion, and it’s so mystifying to hear her speak about her passion for Christ. She speaks in such a profound way, like she’s spent time as a pastor, though you’d never once met a female pastor. Lorraine is certainly a better speaker than all the old men that lead prayer at church and quote the same bible verses into monotony.

She proudly shows you the rosary around her neck, explaining the story behind it with the most adorable sparkle in her eyes. When you take the metal in your hands, wanting to share in her passion, it burns. Burns like you’ve just pressed your hand flat into the cooktop of an oven. You recoil in pain, but when Lorraine attends to your palm, there’s no sign of a burn.

“It… It stings.” You whine, looking down at your hand in disbelief. You’ve never felt such pain, and the fact that it’s not left a visible mark is messing with your head so much that your eyes begin to well with tears.

“I know it does, sweetheart. I know.” Lorraine hums, holding you tightly, lifting a thumb to wipe at your tears. “Ointment won’t help it, I’m afraid. It’s the spirit reacting through nerve induction. It will go away soon. I promise.” The demonologist quickly stuffs the rosary down the neck of her blouse, wanting to hide everything that causes you pain. Lorraine hates to see you in such a state, and though you don’t comprehend anything about this spirit, her brain is working overtime to plot a strategy to rid you of this beast.

You sit together for another half hour, Lorraine consoling the pain that has long since disappeared thanks to her sweet whispers and distracting stories. You nearly fall asleep on the sofa once again, and she can see it, so without having to ask, she takes you up the stairs and to your bedroom.

“I’ll just go down the hall to get myself ready for bed. I’ll be right back, I promise.” She hums, pressing an innocent kiss to your forehead before leaving the room. Watching her walk away from you shatters your heart into a million pieces, but you know she’ll come back through the doors quickly. You trust Lorraine’s promise.

I need to change before she gets back, you think, but your body simply won’t allow you to move.   You’re stuck to this bed, to this soft mattress that you once so adored, but now only fear for the horrible dreams it brings upon you.

You sit in this fear, for how long you’re not certain, before Lorraine returns. Her hair is combed through yet still has that lovely, silky wave to it, and she’s dressed in the prettiest white nightgown. She looks like an angel, in shiny white linen. She’s just missing the wings and halo. You feel a warmth rise to your cheeks, seeing her in this state, a state which she’d probably only ever been seen in by her husband. You feel so scandalous, like you should avert your gaze, like God is going to find you sinful for looking at her like this, but your eyes are locked onto this heavenly body in front of you, and you can’t pull away.

“I’m sorry I—” You begin, hands gripping at your shirt, trying to indicate to her that you’re upset with yourself for not getting dressed in her absence.

Lorraine only tuts at you, placing down her bag before rounding to your side of the bed. She helps you stand, and begins through your closet, looking for a nightgown for you to wear. Much to her chagrin, however, all she can find is dirty jeans and some oversized t-shirts, which makes her feel pity towards you, but also causes a small giggle to escape her lips because she finds the clothing choices so adorably fitting for a young farm girl. She settles on the least stained of all of your shirts before returning to your side.

“May I?” Her voice is low, knowing that you’re the only person in the world that needs to hear her. When you nod, she pulls your blouse over your head, and she develops a blush of her own to find that you’re not wearing anything beneath it. You try to hide, snaking your hands around your chest, a new warmth between your legs as you realize that Lorraine’s hands are wandering over your body, the pads of her fingers lightly prodding your exposed skin.

“You sweet thing. You just need someone to love you.” Your savior hums, delicately examining all of the bruises that cover your skin. You’re not even sure where they all came from, just that they developed fast. A few concern you more than the others: the ones shaped like fingers and teeth marks. They never hurt at night, but the fear that strikes you every morning when you reveal a new marking in the mirror is something that you never want to feel again.

Lorraine presses another small kiss to a bruise on your shoulder before helping you pull the sleep shirt over your head. She reluctantly, yet with the complete confidence that she’s carried herself with all along, pulls down your pants in one swift motion. You’re back in bed before you know it, Lorraine tucking you in tightly and making sure you’re perfectly comfortable before taking her own place beside you.

Your brain is rushing, not with the demonic thoughts that you’ve had all this time, but with so many feelings that you never knew existed before meeting Lorraine. You feel horribly antsy, like you have enough energy to run laps around the house. You miss the tiredness that had been affecting you earlier this morning, it was going to be quite difficult to sleep tonight.

“I’m so very glad you came to help me.” You whisper, voice shaky with nerves as you turn on your side to face the woman who’s already turned towards you. You can feel how close your bodies are, yet they aren’t touching, and your brain is working overtime to decide if you should close that space between you.

Luckily, Lorraine is making all of your decisions for you.

You feel the soft skin of her legs first, when they wrap around yours, holding them still. Her right arm is next, draping over the curve in your waist so gently, yet she has the firmest grip on you, like she won’t let you leave even if you tried. You’d never try.

“I…” You start again, shifting even closer to Lorraine, placing your hand on her chest so you can feel her heartbeat. You pray she can’t feel yours, for its beating is so quick it’s probably quite dangerous, and you’ve already worried her enough. “Since you’ve been here, my brain has been so… still. So quiet.” That’s not entirely true, as the angelic woman in front of you has only replaced all of your thoughts, but it’s close enough. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” She whispers back, voice so low and gravelly with her own sleep, so that you have to lean even further forward to hear her, and your noses nearly touch. “I haven’t done my job just yet.”

You tense, suddenly filled with worry about what will happen when Lorraine eventually does what she’s come here to do. If your still-burning pain from merely touching a symbol of the Lord is any indication, you’re in for a wellspring of hurt when you wake up in the morning.

As for now, though, you’re completely safe, protected by your guardian angel, and you can sleep soundly for the first time in far too long. You fall asleep under Lorraine’s grasp far quicker than you’d like, as you’d really prefer to stay awake and really cherish the soft circles she’s rubbing into your flesh, but your eyelids fall shut on their own accord.

Lorraine, however, stays up a bit later, watching your face for any sign of nightmares, wandering hands exploring your curves as if looking for clues, soothing you into the deepest sleep of your life.  

Lorriane wakes groggily, yawning while rubbing at her eyes with balled-up fists. She notices first that it’s still not light outside, that she still has time to sleep. Though she won’t, because a panic rips through the woman when she registers your absence. She shoots straight up out of bed, body moving to wrap herself in one of your mother’s old house coats faster than her brain can function. It’s on sheer instinct that Lorraine wraps the rosary around her hand and stuffs her small Bible into her pocket.

She races through the creaky old home, feet freezing against the hardwood floors that whine with each of her frantic steps. Lorraine shouts your name and is only met by her own voice echoing back at her. She searches each room of your house, her eyes still blurry from sleep. She whips open cupboards and is even sure to peek into your attic, which you haven’t so much as thought about since inheriting the home.

A worry is settled across Lorraine’s face when she makes it into your kitchen, but her expression turns to true fear when she sees that the lock on your back door has come undone, and the door isn’t settled into its place in its frame. She searches for any pair of shoes she can find and settles for a pair of boots that barely fit her feet, but their steel toes will at least protect her from the elements. She’s shivering, and her eyes are watering so much that the tears turn cold against her cheeks. The demonologist places a hand over her chest, gripping onto her rosary for a moment, bracing herself for the cold, before she slings the door open and steps out into the night.

The snowfall has picked up tenfold, and there’s now a little under a foot of snow packed onto the ground. Lorraine pulls the small cotton coat around herself tightly, her hair whipping wildly around her face as she blinks back tears, searching for any sign of life. When she looks down, there’s an obvious set of footprints: kicked-back snow heading in the direction of the old, forgotten barn.

Lorraine follows your shoeless prints, still screaming your name into the void of night, her voice strained and muffled in the silence that surrounds her. There isn’t even the typical wee-hour birdsong that too frequently keeps you awake. No cars on the road make their habitual noise, no cows bellowing from across the street. Only the exhausted screams of a woman so frightened for your survival.

When she arrives to the barn, finding safety from the wind in its high walls, feeling so close to dropping to her knees and praying that she had never fallen asleep in the first place, Lorraine spots you. A frail, half-naked body illuminated by one flickering, dangling light that allow the older woman’s eyes little vantage.

She’s filled with relief that she’s found you, but that relief only lasts less than a second before she’s filled with dread. Dread that something is horribly wrong. Dread because you’re dripping with a slick, dark, shimmering liquid.

Lorraine falls to her knees beside you, taking your near-lifeless face in her hands.

“What have you done to her?” She yells, voice harsh and gravelly. She’s speaking to your demon, to the thing that has taken control of your legs and marched you out to this barn, that has treated you like such an animal.

You’re barely conscious, losing the internal battle to keep control of your own mind. All you can do is lean your pained body into Lorraine, trying to give her some sort of message that you’re still there, that you’re still swimming in your own mind, trying to breach the surface.

The clairvoyant asses your injuries, wiping the tears at your eyes and her own. Thankfully, the only damage is done to your back, the lashes across your spine that fuel Lorraine with so much hatred. When your shaking hands lift the riding crop to lay even more agony against your tender flesh, Lorraine wrestles it out of your tight grip and throws it aside, far out of your reach.

“We have to do this now.” Lorraine’s voice is significantly kinder, her hands holding your head close to her chest. She sits in her own fear for a moment, building a strategy to get this thing out of you once and for all. She whispers a prayer, and the words hurt your head, fill your brain with a terrible, searing scream, but there’s simply nothing you can do to stop it. Your livelihood now rests at Lorraine Warren’s feet.

Lorraine stands, guides you upwards. She’s shellshocked by the fact that she’s about to take on a task that she had never solely performed before, and it’s caused her knees to walk unsteadily. She takes the housecoat off and guides it over your shoulders, face twinging as she lays it against the open wounds of your back, but she’d rather you feel pain for a small moment than have your delicate skin come into contact with the weather. The woman ties the coat tight before picking you up, carrying you back through the strong winds, shoes clumping down on the piling snow.

When she replaces the darkness of the sky with the darkness of your home, Lorraine places you down on the sofa where she had once sat with you. You sit in a crumpled state, arms limp, though they fight to wrap around your body, subconsciously seeking heat. You’re impossibly cold, and the longer your toes sit with minimal blood flow, the angrier your beast grows. Your shivering only grows worse when Lorraine throws open the French windows behind you, allowing the snow to come in through the screens and settle in your hair.

“I know it hurts.” She whispers, trying to find some sort of life behind your glassy eyes. Lorraine has forced herself into seriousness, closed her tear ducts and is carrying herself professionally. She knows that treating this with any level of emotional attachment could be suicide for the exorcism, and though the near love that she’s developed for you still lingers at the back of her brain, she has to silence it, she has to save your life before she can worry about you anymore.

Sniffing back the wetness that’s come from the cold air beating against her face, Lorraine finds the Bible still sitting in the pocket of the coat draped over your shoulders. She holds her left hand against your forehead, and the cross casts a warmth against your face that you lean back to fight against, though you’re not sure if it’s of your own action or that of something else.

Lorraine begins reciting a prayer in Latin, that you’d surely be swooning over had you been at all conscious. You’ve nearly lost your battle, your body completely limp against the pillows, as though you’ve lost all muscle mass in less than a minute. You’ve lost all awareness of the situation and now exist only in your own mind, trying your damnedest to regain control.

Each word Lorraine yells with a cracking voice causes a new pain to emerge somewhere within your body, and the pain consumes you so much that you fall over, landing in a fetal position against the cushions of the sofa. Lorraine’s hands want to reach out to soothe you, to press their warmth into your blue skin, to replace your pain with her loving touch, but she restrains herself. She knows that you must feel this pain, that it will drive the presence out of your body and back to the Hell that it emerged from.

“I need you to fight it.” Lorraine interrupts her own prayer to press her forehead against your own, fingers gripping your jaw like her life depends on it. “Don’t give in, don’t let it take you.” She calls, holding the weight of your head in her hands, feeling how much authority you’ve lost over your own body. “Please, fight. For me.”

You’ve already done your fighting. Though you’ve been so horribly affected by this presence in your home, disrupting your livelihood, your sleep, your will to live, there’s not really been anything impacting your will to live at all in years past. You’ve simply been existing in this plane, doing your chores and going to church, following your routines for no reason other than it’s what you’ve always done. Your routines that are so set in stone that it took a demonic presence to shake them up. But you’ve had no one to share your routine with, no one to cook for, no one to compliment how beautifully your flowers have grown. You’ve had no one to fight for.

Your life is not one worth fighting for.

Lorraine Warren, however, feels the opposite. The way she’s holding you so tightly, on her knees in front of you, begging you to stay alive… though you can’t see it, aren’t cognizant enough to hear her begging, you can feel it. There’s a warmth against your chest that’s keeping your heart beating, and a light behind your eyes that’s pushing you to keep going.

So you do. You do as Lorraine asks, and the last little bit of willpower you have musters up into your fingers, and you grab onto Lorraine’s shoulders with an anemic grasp, trying to pull her closer. You force your eyes open, though it’s so very painful due to the rosary still swinging in view, and look up at Lorraine’s worried features. More than anything, you’re filled with hatred that you’re the one to cause her this anguish, that she shouldn’t be so concerned over a life as meaningless as your own.

It's the most beautiful smile you’re met with that causes the final push, that forces your beast out of your mind and into the wind that’s still blowing melting snowflakes onto your already freezing body. A sudden relief fills your body, the power over your own actions that brings back the feeling in your muscles. You sit up, blinking slowly, reliving the past few minutes over and over as you regain a full level of awareness that you’d been left without for the past months.

Lorraine allows you your time to rejoin the living world, slamming shut the windows behind you and throwing several blankets over your freezing body. She drops back to her knees to assess you once more, seeing the color back in your eyes and the warmth rising back to your cheeks. She had seen you in such a terrifying, corpse-like state that she’d surely soon have nightmares about, so the fact that your eyes were finally locking onto her own was an answered prayer.

You eagerly wrapped both arms around the woman’s neck, holding her as close as you can, thanking her over and over again, until the stinging on your back takes the brunt of your attention.

“Don’t thank me. It was all your own work.” She hums, trying to find anywhere she can hold you without wrapping her arms around your back. Lorraine then stands, settling on petting your hair, looking around for any other sources of heat that she may impress upon you. “Do you have any fire woo—”

She’s cut off by the swift action of your standing up, an action that she would surely advise against had she had the option to. But her lips are unable to protest, because they’re met by your own. You’re shocked by your own straightforwardness, and though the fear that she’ll run away and call you a freak is very prominent in your mind, you feel so swept up in thankfulness to this woman, so swept up in love, that the only thing you feel like doing is kissing her.

You internally thank God that she’s not pushed you off, and instead, once the initial shock wears off, Lorraine’s hands are gripping your cheeks and are tugging you forward into her. Though you’re near hypothermic, the warmth that radiates through you when you wrap your arms around Lorraine Warren’s waist is something truly heavenly. You can feel the ice melting away from your fingers and toes, even though you still stand within a house that’s currently running below freezing.

You try to stay attached to Lorraine’s lips for as long as you can, as long as she’ll allow, and as desperately as you both are to stay in this state, Lorraine’s overall concern for your health reigns supreme, and she pulls away to once again ask her question. You giggle softly, hiding your face against her chest, hoping she hasn’t seen how overjoyed your smile is. Though if you were to pick up your head, you’d see that she dons a similar expression.

You direct Lorraine to a closet, and she returns to build a fire. She sits you down right in front of it, and for the first time in far too many days, you feel warmth against your face. You’re not too sure just which direction that warmth is coming from, whether it’s from the fire or the woman sitting next to you, carefully washing the horrible scratches along your spine, but you feel a warmth unlike anything you’ve ever felt in all of your years of living. A warmth you never want to go away.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

See The Road You're On (Joel's Version)

A moodboard, 300 word drabble, and playlist celebrating Chapter 1 of Elks.

A/N: Posting these to help clean up the masterlist, don't mind me. Thanks to @jennaispunk for looking this over and @saradika-graphics for the headers.

His heart beats with an unfamiliar feeling as he watches you hobble down the road, too proud to glance back, obviously too embarrassed for your own good. If only you knew how often he thinks about you, how closely he listens to Ellie when she talks about you, how many times he’s replayed that old mixed CD of yours with your name and the pretty faded flowers drawn on it… maybe then you’d look back at him. 

You fell in front of his home like an angel falling from the sky. He picked you up and bandaged your wounds. Today, you gave him a purpose, he loves having a purpose. Some days he feels that purpose dwindling behind the protective gates of Jackson. Ellie’s growing up, she doesn’t need him as much, what with all of her friends and teenage responsibilities. She’s thriving here, and he’s left feeling adrift. He’d never admit it, not even to Tommy. At least there’s always patrol and the freedom that provides him. Maybe he just needs more of a purpose, more of a reason here, maybe then he’d be satisfied. 

He steps back into his home, glancing at the couch you were just sitting on, before retreating to his studio. He unwraps his tools and picks up the perfect block of wood. Running his fingers over the smooth surface, he envisions the intricate lines he’ll carve for the fur, he feels a whisper of intimidation at the thought of shaping the delicate antlers.

Woodworking has been a new discovery for him, he’s always been better at settling his thoughts when his hands are occupied. He thinks of the first time he saw you all those months ago when he makes his first deliberate cut. 

Chapter 1 playlist and song reasonings behind cut. (AKA I just talk about music.)

“Caring Is Creepy” by The Shins opens up the whole story… I love the lyrics I chose for reader to hear before everything goes to shit. 

“Myth” by Beach House has been the song that has constantly stayed in my mind while writing these two characters, so it’s fitting that the chapter title comes from this song. Every Elks chapter title is taken from a song, because as any good fic author would tell you… song lyrics make great titles.

“Pitter Patter Goes My Heart” by Broken Social Scene is an instrumental but I got the thought of Joel walking out of the schoolhouse at the end of the chapter, his heart pitter patters against his chest when he realizes that reader is someone he might just want around. 

“Holding On” by War On Drugs might be one of the most Joel Miller songs ever. The lyrics deal with holding onto the memory of someone. Is an old memory just another way of saying goodbye?

“Slow Burn” by Kacey Musgraves reminds me of something my reader would write, plus I think the title says it all. 

“Second Nature” by Clairo plays to me like a “I have a huge crush on this person” song and LORD KNOWS that reader has been harnessing a crush on Joel for months. My train of thought destroyed.

“Sinking” by Clairo, yes, another Clairo song. If “Holding On” is Joel’s song, “Sinking” is reader’s song. Every night think of things I can’t do or haven’t done. And does it make me weak?

Next Chapter

[redlegumes]

Written for @eddiemunsonbingo

Square: C1 Slow Burn

Title: Slow Burn

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 329 (The art is the submission)

Ship(s): Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington, Steddie

Major Tags: Love Confession, Song Lyrics, Rockstar Eddie Munson

Summary: Art submission for Eddie Munson Bingo with a little ficlet for context. Eddie Munson performs a song for his secret love on Saturday Night Live wearing nothing but his guitar and combat boots.

Link: AO3

So instead of Kacey Musgraves, Eddie (with Corroded Coffin, new band, or solo - whichever) is the first person on Saturday Night Live to perform completely nude (apart from the boots).

~Ficlet below the cut~

No one is surprised that Eddie would pull something so risqué. After a few underwear trial runs, everyone concedes that the guitar covers more of his body than expected. More than at least one of the suggested alternative outfits for his SNL spot.

However people are surprised, that while Eddie's first performance in the show was of his latest single with his traditional electric guitar and blaring vocals, the nude performance isn't just physically 'stripped down.'

He's chosen to play an older single on his acoustic he's used since high school to write songs on. It's considered even odder that the song he's playing is one he did live three years ago, the last time he was on SNL.

All the 'creatives' agree that the number works. The shock of the tonal shift in Eddie's proposed pitch sells the executives as something marketable. Whispers of it definitely likely to 'go viral' get the whole thing approved.

'Slow Burn' did well on the charts, but this version... without the drums and the electric guitar the song sounds so much more personal, vulnerable. It's much clearer that it's a love song. Eddie even dropped the tempo down. The whole thing is downright romantic. There'd been a long rumored 'muse' for Eddie Munson, and all week the cast speculated who it could be; who made the famously wild, controversial, and tatted musician sing like that?

Saturday night finally comes, and Eddie plays the song with 'bisexual lighting' that eventually becomes redder and redder. At the same time, burning fire graphics grow visually stronger, displayed behind him.

When it ends he looks out into the audience and says, "Steve, you gotta know by now that I wrote this for you. I wanted the world to know I've loved every second of our slow burn."

The camera pans up to a handsome man in the gallery, light sparkling in teary eyes, his hand gripping the fabric of his shirt over his heart.

[lunapaper]

Album Review: 'Country Curious' EP - Lola Kirke

Pop has never been more country, and country has never been more pop.   

Names like Kacey Musgraves, Maren Morris, Kelsea Ballerini and Morgan Wallen (controversies aside) have well and truly embedded themselves in the mainstream. And, of course, there’s Beyoncé’s Cowboy Carter, which, despite all the country imagery and distinct country twang, is not a country album, according to the singer.  

Country Curious, by singer/actress Lola Kirke, however, is a country album (or EP, to be specific). It’s right there in the title. Her cowgirl journey started long ago: Born in London, raised in New York and moving to Nashville in the middle of a pandemic, developing a love for Tanya Tucker, The Judds and Rosanne Cash's Seven Year Ache along the way. Her second album, Lady for Sale, was even released through Jack White's Third Man Records.  

She chronicles this full-on transformation on the EP's first single, 'He Says Y'all,' a feminist take on 'bro-country' delivered with tongue firmly in cheek. Like 2022's Lady for Sale, Kirke turns the campy goodness up to 11 with a rollicking honky tonk groove, ready to move down South and start teasing her hair for a dirty man with a cowboy drawl. I bet she thinks his tractor's sexy, too!  

The smoky slow burn of 'All My Exes Live in LA' (featuring Swedish sister duo and fellow lovers of Americana, First Aid Kit) is also fun, flirty and feminist, referencing George Strait as she leaves the freeway littered with broken hearts, heading 'For the mountains or the desert or my mama's or anywhere else.'  

‘My House,’ meanwhile, serves absolute cunt when it comes to the traditional country ballad. Instead of begging for her man to come back home, she’s kicking him out and reclaiming her space, singing ''Cause I never have to worry about if you'll come home/I'm not crying over you, now I'm better off alone' with a big damn smile on her faceas she dances around her house while chugging a beer at 10am.  

Ending the EP is the slow winding ‘Karma,’ featuring the aforementioned Rosanne Cash. Dedicated to a lying, cheating douche bro with the big important job, it's a perfect mix of contemporary country and rugged 70s nostalgia, featuring sublime harmonies that just beautifully melt into one another and lyrics that give Taylor's own 'Karma' a serious run for their money ('She never quits/Or forgets/I don't mess with karma/But I sure love that bitch').  

Lola Kirke is more than just a little curious about country music. Where Lady for Sale saw her give it a bright, kitschy 80s glow, this EP sees her lean all the way in, with a lot of its blues and roots influence able to be attributed to producer and lifelong friend, Elle King. 

It’s masterfully constructed and cleverly written, more so than Lady for Sale at times. It should earn Kirke some kind of acclaim as Musgraves or Ballerini or Morris, just like Lady for Sale should’ve had the singer/actress occupying the same space as Rina and Carly Rae: Cult pop girlies who deliver on the niche camp in spades. 

This imbalance hasn’t gone unnoticed by Kirke noting the ‘mediocre’ 6.4 review Lady for Sale received from Pitchfork (which, coming from those guys, is laughable) in a recent interview with the official Grammys website, along with her dissatisfaction with Hollywood and the lack of decent roles (While I’m at it, Mozart in the Jungle deserved so much better, fuck Amazon for cancelling it so they could fund their stupid Lord of the Rings spinoff series). 

Nonetheless, Country Curious proves that heartbreak can be rather empowering and even funny sometimes. Kirke manages to pull off the impossible, balancing humour and heart in a country song without sounding too cartoonish or cynical. She just sounds like she’s having a blast, at this point making way better country bops than the bros... 

[udo0stories]

Introduction Meet Kacey Musgraves, a country music sensation who has captivated audiences worldwide with her authentic lyrics and bold style. Her unique blend of country, folk, and pop has set her apart in the music industry, earning her a dedicated fan base and critical acclaim. A Historic Grammy Triumph Kacey’s journey to stardom reached a significant milestone with her historic Grammy win. This achievement wasn’t just a personal victory for Kacey; it was a testament to her musical prowess and innovative approach to country music. The Grammy win catapulted Kacey into the global spotlight, cementing her status as a force to be reckoned with in the music industry. The Birth of ‘Deeper Well’ ‘Deeper Well’ is Kacey’s sixth studio album, a project that reflects her personal growth and evolution as an artist. The album was born out of Kacey’s experiences and introspections, resulting in a collection of songs that resonate with listeners on a deep, emotional level. Each track on ‘Deeper Well’ is a testament to Kacey’s songwriting skills, showcasing her ability to craft lyrics that are both personal and universal. The Power of ‘Deeper Well’ ‘Deeper Well’ has made a significant impact on listeners worldwide, thanks to its relatable themes and powerful messages. The album explores a range of emotions and experiences, from love and loss to self-discovery and personal growth. Standout songs like the title track ‘Deeper Well’ and ‘Too Good to Be True’ have struck a chord with listeners, further solidifying Kacey’s status as a leading voice in country music. Kacey’s Evolution From her early days in Nashville to her current success as a Grammy-winning artist, Kacey’s career trajectory is a story of perseverance, creativity, and passion. Her evolution as an artist is as inspiring as it is impressive, marked by a constant drive to push boundaries and redefine the country music genre. The Deeper Well World Tour To bring ‘Deeper Well’ to fans worldwide, Kacey embarked on the Deeper Well World Tour. The tour was a celebration of music, connection, and storytelling, offering fans a chance to experience ‘Deeper Well’ live. From intimate venues to large arenas, the Deeper Well World Tour was a testament to Kacey’s ability to captivate audiences with her music and stage presence. Kacey Musgraves Top 10 Music Kacey Musgraves has released a number of popular songs throughout her career. Here are some of her most well-known tracks: “Follow Your Arrow”: An upbeat country song that encourages listeners to take risks and live life on their own terms. “Rainbow”: An uplifting ballad from her 2018 album, Golden Hour, that speaks to the power of hope and resilience. “Butterflies”: An upbeat, country-pop anthem that focuses on the idea of finding strength and resilience in the face of life’s challenges. “Merry Go ‘Round”: A mid-tempo country-folk ballad featuring acoustic guitar, piano, and a string section. “Good Ol’ Boys Club”: A song with a great deal of mystery in its implications. “Dandelion”: A traditionally-minded number that compared her crying reaction to the wildflower as the same emotion that happens when she thinks about her lost love. “Cup of Tea”: A song about how your life and your actions are not always going to be well-received by everybody. “Biscuits”: A song very similar to “Follow Your Arrow”, it’s about charting your own course in life. “This Town”: A song about the cyclical nature of life’s ups and downs. “High Horse”: A country meets disco song from her album, Golden Hour. Conclusion: The Future of Kacey Musgraves As Kacey Musgraves continues to make her mark on the music industry, fans eagerly anticipate what’s next for this talented artist. With her unique voice, authentic lyrics, and innovative approach to country music, the future looks bright for Kacey Musgraves. As we look forward to her next chapter, one thing is certain: Kacey Musgraves will continue to captivate audiences with her music for years to come.

LEARN MORE ABOUT IObit [web_stories_embed url="https://stories.udo0.com/web-stories/kacey-musgraves-deeper-well/" title="Kacey Musgraves: The Captivating Story Behind Her Historic Grammy Triumph and ‘Deeper Well’" poster="https://stories.udo0.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/03/cropped-cole-schafer-and-kacey-musgraves-attend-the-2022-met-gala-news-photo-1673207494.jpg" width="360" height="600" align="none"]

[waterlight]

2nd House signs as AOTY winners

Disclaimer:

Aquarius 2nd House isn't in this list because no band or artist with this placement has won it, at least for the people we know about the birth time.

Do you want to win an AOTY? Have a Scorpio 2nd House.

Some AOTY winners won't be present because we don't know their birth time

When you read 'ruled by', it means the 2nd House is ruled by that planet.

Aries 2nd House

The Beatles (ruled by Gemini Mars in the 4th House): they won it for Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (1968), it was associated with numerous touchstones of the era's youth culture, such as fashion, drugs, mysticism, and a sense of optimism and empowerment.

Michael Jackson (ruled by Taurus Mars in the 2nd House): he won it for Thriller (1984), itforeshadows the contradictory themes of Jackson's personal life, as he began using a motif of paranoia and darker themes. It is the best-selling album of all time, with sales of 70 million copies worldwide.

Whitney Houston (ruled by Libra Mars in the 7th House): she won it for The Bodyguard Soundtrack (1994), the album gave Houston the distinction of having the most weeks at number one by a female artist on Billboard 200, holding that record for 19 years until being surpassed by Adele's album 21 (2011).

Billie Eilish (ruled by Pisces Mars in the 12th House): she won it for When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go? (2020), its songs explore themes such as modern youth, drug addiction, heartbreak, suicide, and mental health, with lyrical sensibilities of humor and horror. Eilish said the album was inspired in part by lucid dreaming and night terrors, which are reflected on the cover photo.

Others: Herbie Hancock (ruled by Gemini Mars in the 3rd House; with Jupiter, Sun, Saturn and Uranus): The Joni Letters (2008). Bruno Mars (ruled by Virgo Mars in the 7th House): 24k Magic (2018)

Taurus 2nd House

Barbra Streisand (ruled by Venus Pisces in the 12th House; with Saturn and Uranus): she won it for The Barbra Streisand Album (1964); Streisand said about the title, "'What is the truth of it? It's the Barbra Streisand album.' If you saw me on TV, you could just go [to the record shop] and ask for the Barbra Streisand album. It's common sense."

Beck (ruled by Leo Venus in the 6th House; with Saturn): he won it for Morning Phase (2015).

Others: John Lennon (ruled by Virgo Venus in the 6th House): Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (1968, with The Beatles), Double Fantasy (1982, with Yoko Ono).

Gemini 2nd House

Bonnie Raitt (ruled by Scorpio Mercury in the 7th House; with Moon): she won it for Nick of Time (1990), many of the songs deal with personal issues Raitt was struggling with at the time. For example, the album's title track is about coming to terms with middle age.

Kacey Musgraves (ruled by Virgo Mercury in the 5th House): she won it for Golden Hour (2019), it's a country pop record, it also contains elements of disco, electropop, electronica, and yacht rock.

Cancer 2nd House

Judy Garland (ruled by Sagittarius Moon in the 6th House; with Neptune): the first woman to win AOTY, she won it for Judy at Carnegie Hall (1962), a live recording of a concert of hers in New York.

Adele (ruled by Sagittarius Moon in the 6th House): she won it for 21 (2012), composed in the aftermath of the singer's separation from her then partner, the album explores themes of heartbreak, healing, introspection, and forgiveness; and 25 (2017), its lyrical content features themes of Adele "yearning for her old self, her nostalgia", and "melancholia about the passage of time" according to an interview with the singer by Rolling Stone, as well as themes of motherhood, new love, and regret.

Leo 2nd House

Henry Mancini (ruled by Aries Sun in the 10th house; with North Node and Neptune): the first AOTY winner, he won it for The Music from Peter Gunn (1959), a soundtrack album for the TV series Peter Gunn.

João Gilberto (ruled by Gemini Sun in the 12th house; with Mars and Neptune): he won it together with Stan Getz for the album 'Getz/Gilberto" (1965), it's considered the record that popularized bossa nova worldwide and is one of the best-selling jazz albums of all time, selling over one million copies.

George Michael (ruled by Cancer Sun in the 12th House; with Moon): he won it for Faith (1989), in addition to playing various instruments on the album, Michael wrote and produced every track on the recording except for one, "Look at Your Hands". Faith's songs include introspective lyrics, which generated controversies about Michael's personal relationships at that time.

Alanis Morissette (ruled by Gemini Sun in the 11th House): she won it for Jagged Little Pill (1996). The lyrics touch upon themes of aggression and unsuccessful relationships, while Ballard introduced a pop sensibility to Morissette's angst.

Others: Billy Joel (ruled by Taurus Sun in the 11th House; with Pluto): 52nd Street (1980). Celine Dion (ruled by Aries Sun in the 9th House; with Jupiter [R]): Falling into You (1997)

Virgo 2nd House

Natalie Cole (ruled by Capricorn Mercury in the 5th House; with Mars, Moon and Neptune [R]): she won it for Unforgettable... with Love (1992), the album includes covers of standards previously performed by her father, Nat King Cole. She became the first African-American woman to win the award.

Lauryn Hill (ruled by Gemini Mercury in the 10th House; with Pluto [R]): she won it for The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill (1999), it is a neo-soul and R&B album with some songs based in hip hop soul and reggae. Its lyrics touch upon Hill's pregnancy and the turmoil within her former group the Fugees, along with themes of love and God. In 2000, the band Santana wins AOTY for Supernatural, Lauryn is credited as producer.

Other: Art Garfunkel (ruled by Libra Mercury in the 3rd House; with Neptune and North Node): Bridge Over Troubled Water (1971, with Paul Simon).

Libra 2nd House

Paul Simon (ruled by Sagittarius Venus in the 4th House; with Sun): he won it in 1971 for Bridge over Troubled Water together with Art Garfunkel; in 1976 with Still Crazy After All These Times; in 1987 for Graceland, it features an eclectic mixture of genres, including pop, rock, a cappella, zydeco, isicathamiya and mbaqanga. Simon wrote songs inspired by the recordings made in Johannesburg, collaborating with African and American artists. He received criticism for breaking the cultural boycott of South Africa because of its policy of apartheid.

Scorpio 2nd House

Frank Sinatra (ruled by Leo Mars in the 10th house; with Mercury and Sun): he won it for Come Dance With Me! (1959), September Of My Years (1966) whose theme is exlopiring the "who am I" questions that a man faces upon entering the middle age, A Man and His Music (1967) which provides a retrospective of his musical career.

Bob Newhart (ruled by Libra Mars in the 12th house; with Saturn): he won it for The Button-Down Mind of Bob Newhart (1961), the first comedy album to win AOTY.

Stevie Wonder (ruled by Virgo Mars in the 12th House): he won it for Innervisions (1974), the album has been regarded as his transition from the "Little Stevie Wonder" known for romantic ballads into a more musically mature, conscious, and grown-up artist; Fulfillingness' First Finale (1975); Songs in the Key of Life (1977), widely regarded as his magnum opus and one of the greatest albums in the history of recorded music, many musicians have remarked on the quality of the album and its influence on their own work.

Eric Clapton (ruled by Pisces Mars in the 4th House): in addiction to his award for the Concert for Bangladesh credited to George Harrison & Friends, he won it for Unplugged (1993).

Quincy Jones (ruled by Virgo Mars in the 11th House): in addiction for his AOTY for Thriller which he produced, he won it for Back on the Block which features legendary musicians and singers from across three generations.

Yoko Ono (ruled by Virgo Mars [R] in the 12th House): she won it together with John Lennon for the record 'Double Fantasy', upon its release, the album stalled on music charts and received largely negative reviews from music critics, with many focusing on the album's idealisation of Lennon and Ono's marriage. However, following Lennon's murder three weeks after its release, it became a worldwide commercial success.

Harry Styles (ruled by Aquarius Mars in the 3rd House; with Pluto and North Node): he won it for Harry's House (2023)

Others: Carole King (ruled by Taurus Mars in the 7th House; with Moon): Tapestry (1972). Phil Collins (ruled by Pisces Mars in the 4th House): No Jacket Required (1986).

Sagittarius 2nd House

George Harrison (ruled by Cancer Jupiter [R] in the 9th house): in addition to his award with the Beatles, he won an AOTY in 1973 with The Concert for Bangladesh credited to 'George Harrison & Friends'. The shows were a pioneering charity event, in aid of the homeless Bengali refugees of the Bangladesh Liberation War, and set the model for future multi-artist rock benefits such as Live Aid (1985) and the Concert for New York City (2001).

Other: Glen Campbell (ruled by Sagittarius Jupiter [R] in the 2nd House with North Node): By the Time I Get To Phoenix (1969).

Capricorn 2nd House

Bob Dylan (ruled by Taurus Saturn in the 5th House; with Mars): in addiction to his award for The Concert for Bangla Desh (1973) credited to George Harrison & Friends, he won AOTY for Time Out of Mind (1998). For many fans and critics, the album marked Dylan's artistic comeback after he appeared to struggle with his musical identity throughout the 1980s.

Other: Robert Plant (ruled by Leo Saturn in the 9th House): Raising Sand (2009, Alison Krauss)

Pisces 2nd House

Christopher Cross (ruled by Aries Jupiter in the 2nd House with North Node and Moon): he won it for his self-titled album Christopher Cross (1981).

Other: Alison Krauss (ruled by Scorpio Jupiter in the 10th House): Raising Sand (2009, Robert Plant).

[darknessontheedgeoftowndyke]

Thank u @stewyonmolly for the tag this was so fun (and tricky lol)

Interview music tag game

RULES: Put your playlist on shuffle. For each of the 10 interview questions, select a lyric from the random song that comes up. (Skip if there aren’t any lyrics and make sure to drop the name of the song in your interview answer!) xx

1. How would you describe your life in one sentence?

‘I know whatever happens to me, I know it’s for the better’ - phoebe bridgers, waiting room

2. what kind of (Pisces) are you?

‘Your face is all that I see, I’ll give you everything’ - beyoncé, XO

3. You’re visiting your favourite spot, what are you thinking about?

‘Don’t shut your eyes until we fade to black/cause maybe this time the good stuff could last’ - the wombats, cheetah tongue

4. If your life was a movie, what do you think the first review would say about it?

‘Sunsets fade, and love does too.’ - kacey musgraves, space cowboy

5. What would you title your memoir?

‘It hurts!’ - bad bad hats, it hurts

6. What would you say about your best friends?

‘Take my hand and let it go, you can call me up anytime’ - orville peck, c’mon baby, cry

7. What was your life motto as a teenager?

‘I can’t see much of a future, unless we find out what’s to blame, what a shame’ - the buzzcocks, ever fallen in love (with someone you shouldn’t’ve fallen in love with’

8. Describe your aesthetic now

‘As I walk, aimless in the night, I will be washed away’ - emily jane white, washed away

9. What lyric will they quote in your eulogy?

I’m sorry I cheated and skipped for this one because it was fucking Eenie Meenie by Justin Bieber and I’m not having that quoted for my eulogy even hypothetically.

‘I know it’s over, Icarus says, to the sun/but didn’t we have fun?’ - coldplay, fun

10. Say you believe in soulmates, what do you think their first impression of you will be?

‘Since I met you I’ve been crazy, since I’ve been with you I’ve been lost’ - the pretty reckless, follow me down

tagging @hiriahb @alltimefade @imeminemp3 @teabookgremlin @yourtransexualheart @trans-simonandgarfunkel

No pressure to do this omg you guys were just the first I thought of xxx

[rebel-spacecadet]

fanmix yourself challenge >> by sarah & meghan

What I Want by Gregor McMurray a song you’d kick ass to during the apocalypse

Don't Forget Me by Maggie Roggers a song you heard live

Close to You by Gracie Abrams a song that reminds you of your favorite fictional character

Good Luck, Babe! by Chapell Roan a song that would have been your high school anthem

Sinner by The Last Dinner Party a song that reminds you of your best friend

End of Beginning by Djo a song that would play in the movie trailer of your life

Out of Oklahoma by Lainey Wilson a song that reminds you of somewhere

Taking Things for Granted by Joy Oladokun a favorite song from the last year

The Black Dog by Taylor Swift a song with a color in the title

I Know a Place by MUNA a song that would be your own country’s national anthem

Juno by Sabrina Carpenter a song by an artist you’re not-so-secretly crushing on

Ode to a Conversation Stuck in Your Throat by Del Water Gap a song that reminds you of your favorite season

I Hate it Here by Taylor Swift a song you play when you need to go on a crying jag

Guess by Charlie xcx ft. Billie Eilish a song you’d like to kiss to

The Architect by Kacey Musgraves a song with lyrics you’d like to tattoo on yourself

{playlist here}

[newmusicradionetwork]

Susannah B Brings Her Soulful Songs Alive With Longtime Members of Alanis Morisette’s Band

From gracing off-Broadway stages and captivating audiences at pop and jazz clubs in her native Manhattan and Los Angeles to releasing critically acclaimed independent jazz and pop albums, Susannah B has enjoyed an impactful, genre-defying career. On her latest album, the perfectly titled POV, the veteran singer/songwriter offers fresh perspectives on some of her favorite previously recorded original songs, including the recently released lead singles “Talkin’ to Myself,” “Be All Right,” “I Got Lucky” and “Secrets & Lies.” Susannah complements those stirring originals with a beautiful re-imagining of Billy Joel’s “Vienna” and a soulful, contemporary take on “It’s Alright to Cry” – a heartfelt song her mother, renowned Broadway composer/lyricist Carol Hall, wrote for Free to Be…You and Me, the 70’s  children’s album and Emmy-award winning TV special created by actress and author Marlo Thomas. Hall was best known for composing music and lyrics for the iconic Broadway musical The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas.   “It’s Alright to Cry” is set for release July 31 –  before the highly anticipated drop of POV September 8. POV will also include a mystical pop version of the final single, “My Time Now,” whose lyrics freshly resonate from the perspective of a mother with grown children. “I called the album POV because I’m now openly celebrating my age, feeling blessed to stand in solidarity with other late bloomers and to have enjoyed such a diverse career, with time off in between phases to become a devoted mom,” says Susannah, who launched her recording career in the 2000s with Happy Today (2003) and Let’s Pretend (2008). “As we age, we have different ways of looking at things, and a song can mean something very different at various points in the journey. The concept of POV also refers to the way different people can experience the same thing, but their individual points of view cause them to have different reactions to the shared experience. That fascinates me, and I spend a lot of time thinking about how I consciously choose to see the world. I think many of humanity’s problems would improve if we simply considered other people’s POVs and didn’t expect everyone to see things the same way we do.” POV is produced by Susannah and keyboardist Michael Farrell, best known for his work with Alanis Morrisette, and Macy Gray. The other band members are also veteran touring musicians with Morissette, including drummer Victor Indrizzo (whose resume includes Avril Lavigne and Brandi Carlile), upright and electric bassist Sean Hurley, guitarist David Levita (Faith Hill & Tim McGraw) and saxophonist Sal Lozano. The bands’ other collective credits include Beck, Colbie Caillat, Kacey Musgraves, Sara Bareilles, Lana Del Ray, Shakira and Eminem. Read the full article

[pusha-t2024]

Songs About Cups

If you've never thought about cups as a source of musical inspiration, you're in for a delightful surprise. Cups have found their way into the lyrics and titles of numerous songs across various genres, each bringing a unique story and emotion. In this post, we're exploring the Best Rated Songs About Cups that have captured the hearts of music lovers around the world. From country anthems to pop hits, these tunes make you appreciate the humble cup in a whole new way.

1. “Red Solo Cup” by Toby Keith (2011)

About This Song:

Album: Clancy's Tavern

Released: 2011

Artist: Toby Keith

Genre: Country

Key Lyric: "Red Solo cup, I fill you up, let's have a party."

Toby Keith's "Red Solo Cup" became an instant party anthem upon its release in 2011.

The song celebrates the ubiquitous red plastic cup, a staple at American parties and tailgates.

Keith's lighthearted lyrics and catchy tune make it a fan-favorite, often played at social gatherings.

Interestingly, the song’s simplicity and relatable content contributed to its commercial success.

Keith himself has mentioned that the song was meant to be fun and not taken too seriously.

2. “Cup of Loneliness” by George Jones (1957)

About This Song:

Album: George Jones Singing 14 Top Country Song Favorites

Released: 1957

Artist: George Jones

Genre: Country

Key Lyric: "All my friends 'tis bitter sweet while here on earth we stopped."

George Jones' "Cup of Loneliness" is a heartfelt country ballad released in 1957.

The song reflects on themes of sorrow and redemption, resonating deeply with its listeners.

Jones' rich, emotive voice adds depth to the song’s poignant lyrics.

Written during a time of personal struggles, the song captures Jones' emotional state.

It remains a classic in the country music genre, celebrated for its raw honesty and soulful delivery.

3. “Sippy Cup” by Melanie Martinez (2015)

About This Song:

Album: Cry Baby

Released: 2015

Artist: Melanie Martinez

Genre: Alternative/Indie Pop

Key Lyric: "Syrup is still syrup in a sippy cup."

"Sippy Cup" by Melanie Martinez is a dark, alternative pop track from her debut album 'Cry Baby'.

The song deals with heavy themes like parental negligence and substance abuse.

Martinez's haunting vocals and eerie instrumentals create a chilling atmosphere.

Released in 2015, the song quickly gained attention for its bold storytelling.

Martinez has said the song is a commentary on masking deeper issues with superficial fixes.

4. “Cup of Coffee” by Johnny Cash (1966)

About This Song:

Album: Everybody Loves a Nut

Released: 1966

Artist: Johnny Cash

Genre: Country

Key Lyric: "Dropped in to have a cup of coffee friend."

Johnny Cash's "Cup of Coffee" features on his 1966 album 'Happiness Is You'.

This melancholic track talks about the end of a relationship, symbolized by a cup of coffee.

Cash's deep, resonant voice brings a somber tone to the song’s narrative.

Written during a turbulent time in Cash's personal life, the song is imbued with genuine emotion.

Its straightforward yet compelling lyrics make it a timeless piece in Cash's discography.

5. “One More Cup of Coffee” by Bob Dylan (1976)

About This Song:

Album: Desire

Released: 1976

Artist: Bob Dylan

Genre: Folk Rock

Key Lyric: "One more cup of coffee for the road."

Bob Dylan’s "One More Cup of Coffee" is a standout track from his 1976 album 'Desire'.

The song blends folk and rock elements to create a haunting melody.

Dylan's lyrics tell the story of a farewell, steeped in a sense of longing and finality.

The song was written during a trip to the French Quarter of New Orleans, adding a mystical vibe.

The evocative imagery and Gypsy-inspired sound make it a memorable piece in Dylan's catalog.

6. “Cup of Tea” by Kacey Musgraves (2015)

About This Song:

Album: Pageant Material

Released: 2015

Artist: Kacey Musgraves

Genre: Country

Key Lyric: "You can't be everybody's cup of tea."

Kacey Musgraves' "Cup of Tea" is a charming track from her 2015 album 'Pageant Material'.

The song promotes self-acceptance with its catchy refrain, “You can’t be everybody’s cup of tea”.

Musgraves' witty lyrics and soothing voice make the song both relatable and uplifting.

It was written as a reminder to stay true to oneself despite others' opinions.

The song's lighthearted approach to a universal message resonates with many listeners.

7. “A Cup of Coffee” by Katy Perry (2008)

About This Song:

Album: One of the Boys

Released: 2008

Artist: Katy Perry

Genre: Pop

Key Lyric: "Cup of coffee and an overdose."

"A Cup of Coffee" is an unreleased gem by pop sensation Katy Perry, recorded in 2008.

The song explores the simplicity of spending time with someone over a cup of coffee.

Perry's playful and flirty lyrics set a relaxed, intimate tone.

Although it didn’t make it to any of her albums, the song is cherished by her fans.

It showcases Perry’s knack for turning everyday moments into catchy pop melodies.

8. “Bring Me Your Cup” by UB40 (1993)

About This Song:

Album: Promises and Lies

Released: 1993

Artist: UB40

Genre: Reggae

Key Lyric: "I've got the bottle, bring me your cup."

UB40's "Bring Me Your Cup" is a reggae classic from their 1993 album 'Promises and Lies'.

The song is about seeking solace and comfort, metaphorically represented by a cup.

UB40's smooth rhythms and soulful vocals make it a relaxing listen.

The song was released at a peak period for the band, adding to its popularity.

Its easy-going vibe and relatable lyrics have made it a fan-favorite over the years.

9. “Cups” (“When I’m Gone”) by Anna Kendrick (2013)

About This Song:

Album (soundtrack): Pitch Perfect

Released: 2013

Artist: Anna Kendrick

Genre: Pop

Key Lyric: "You're gonna miss me when I'm gone."

"Cups (When I’m Gone)" by Anna Kendrick became a viral sensation after appearing in the movie 'Pitch Perfect' in 2013.

The song features Kendrick performing a rhythmic cup-tapping routine.

Its catchy melody and unique beat made it an instant hit on social media.

Originally a folk song, Kendrick's version brought it mainstream popularity.

The song’s success was unexpected but welcomed, cementing its place in pop culture.

10. “Cup of Coffee” by Garbage (2001)

About This Song:

Album: Beautiful Garbage

Released: 2001

Artist: Garbage

Genre: Alternative Rock

Key Lyric: "You tell me you don't love me over a cup of coffee"

Garbage's "Cup of Coffee" is a poignant track from their 2001 album 'Beautiful Garbage'.

The song deals with themes of heartbreak and closure, marked by a conversation over coffee.

Shirley Manson’s emotive vocals add depth to the song's somber lyrics.

Released during a time of musical experimentation for the band, it stood out for its emotional rawness.

The song’s haunting melody and relatable theme make it a standout track.

Conclusion

From reflective ballads to upbeat anthems, these songs about cups offer something for every music lover. Whether you’re in the mood for a heartfelt country tune or a pop sensation, there’s a song on this list that will resonate with you. Next time you pour yourself a cup of coffee or grab a Solo cup at a party, remember these tracks and the stories they tell. Enjoy exploring these musical gems and perhaps, you’ll find a new favorite to add to your playlist. Happy listening!

[hijinks-n-lowjinks]

Hi 6, 18, 34, and 39 for the writer ask! :)

Thanks for the ask!!! These are all great questions~

6. Vaguely spoil one of your fics without telling us which one it is

No kiss until the last chapter, but it's good.

18. What trope have you not written yet, but want to?

Friends with benefits. I'd love to write a fic like that but idk what ship I'd write for....

34. What title do you want to use, but can't figure out a story to fit?

Oooooooo this is such a cool question! I'd love to use lyrics from a Kacey Musgraves song for a post-canon itafushi fic... Probably from "Dinner With Friends" or "Nothing To Be Scared Of".

But I'm also really debating on what to title my vampire au itafushi fic!!!! I gained most of my inspiration from Halsey's Badlands album, specifically from "Gasoline", and I'm not sure if I should keep it simple and title it Gasoline or use the lyrics my heart is gold, but my hands are cold.... I'd love input lol.

39. Pick one of your fics and share an image to go with it. (Unsplash is a good source)

Idk the artist (if you know, please lmk so I can give them rpoper credit) but this pic IMMEDIATELY made me think of my vamp au. Technically not a published fic yet but I am currently planning and have written a little bit so I'm gonna say it counts.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

See The Road You're On (Joel's Version)

A moodboard, 300 word drabble, and playlist celebrating Chapter 1 of Elks.

(Thanks to @jennaispunk for looking this over and @saradika-graphics for the headers.)

His heart beats with an unfamiliar feeling as he watches you hobble down the road, too proud to glance back, obviously too embarrassed for your own good. If only you knew how often he thinks about you, how closely he listens to Ellie when she talks about you, how many times he’s replayed that old mixed CD of yours with your name and the pretty faded flowers drawn on it… maybe then you’d look back at him. 

You fell in front of his home like an angel falling from the sky. He picked you up and bandaged your wounds. Today, you gave him a purpose, he loves having a purpose. Some days he feels that purpose dwindling behind the protective gates of Jackson. Ellie’s growing up, she doesn’t need him as much, what with all of her friends and teenage responsibilities. She’s thriving here, and he’s left feeling adrift. He’d never admit it, not even to Tommy. At least there’s always patrol and the freedom that provides him. Maybe he just needs more of a purpose, more of a reason here, maybe then he’d be satisfied. 

He steps back into his home, glancing at the couch you were just sitting on, before retreating to his studio. He unwraps his tools and picks up the perfect block of wood. Running his fingers over the smooth surface, he envisions the intricate lines he’ll carve for the fur, he feels a whisper of intimidation at the thought of shaping the delicate antlers.

Woodworking has been a new discovery for him, he’s always been better at settling his thoughts when his hands are occupied. He thinks of the first time he saw you all those months ago when he makes his first deliberate cut. 

Chapter 1 playlist and song reasonings behind cut. (AKA I just talk about music.)

“Caring Is Creepy” by The Shins opens up the whole story… I love the lyrics I chose for reader to hear before everything goes to shit. 

“Myth” by Beach House has been the song that has constantly stayed in my mind while writing these two characters, so it’s fitting that the chapter title comes from this song. Every Elks chapter title is taken from a song, because as any good fic author would tell you… song lyrics make great titles.

“Pitter Patter Goes My Heart” by Broken Social Scene is an instrumental but I got the thought of Joel walking out of the schoolhouse at the end of the chapter, his heart pitter patters against his chest when he realizes that reader is someone he might just want around. 

“Holding On” by War On Drugs might be one of the most Joel Miller songs ever. The lyrics deal with holding onto the memory of someone. Is an old memory just another way of saying goodbye?

“Slow Burn” by Kacey Musgraves reminds me of something my reader would write, plus I think the title says it all. 

“Second Nature” by Clairo plays to me like a “I have a huge crush on this person” song and LORD KNOWS that reader has been harnessing a crush on Joel for months. My train of thought destroyed.

“Sinking” by Clairo, yes, another Clairo song. If “Holding On” is Joel’s song, “Sinking” is reader’s song. Every night think of things I can’t do or haven’t done. And does it make me weak?

See you on Monday for chapter 2! 💕

Tag list! Let me know if you’d like to be removed or added.

@ohheypedrito, @magpiepills, @secretelephanttattoo, @goodwithcheese, @copperhalfcent

@yopossum, @burntheedges, @noisynightmarepoetry, @moel-jiller, @tinytinymenace

@sawymredfox, @bardot49, @maggiemayhemnj, @jolapeno, @chrysochromulina @vickie5446

See The Road You're On

Elks Chapter 1 Version 2.0

Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Chapter Rating: T. (Nothing explicit for the first few chapters.) Chapter Summary: The man you've had a crush on since he showed up to Jackson just so happens to be your favorite student's caretaker.. and he just saw you do a brutal face plant in front of his home. Chapter Warnings: soft jackson joel, outbreak and quarantine zone memories, ellie has a smart mouth, anxious reader, mentions of blood and an injury from falling, everyone lives happily ever after, joel and ellie don’t leave jackson, early 2000’s indie rock Words: 5,500 Header courtesy of @saradika-graphics

Next Chapter

Masterlist Playlist “Caring Is Creepy” - The Shins

The world ended the day after you bought your homecoming dress. You begged your mom for it–a beautiful deep forest green sequined sweetheart a-line gown–the neckline perfectly showed off your prized gold daisy pendant. You felt like a princess, life couldn’t have been better. Your alarm buzzed on the morning of September 26, 2003, the only worry floating around your teenage head was the grade you’d receive on your essay about René Magritte for AP English. While walking home after a typical boring high school day with your guitar slung across your back and headphones on, little did you know you were hearing the final lyrics before everything changed:

“Hold your glass up, hold it in Never betray the way you’ve always known it is One day, I’ll be wondering how I got so old, just wondering how”

Twenty years later, hardened by life in the Denver Quarantine Zone and gently softened by your now comfortable life in Jackson, you’re still waiting for your first dance.

Art and music have always been at the forefront of your life; you’ve never allowed anything to take away your creativity. Continuing to create no matter how much pain the reality of losing everyone you’ve loved to the plague roaming the earth brought you. You create for yourself using art as a way to soothe your thoughts and anxieties, you create for the Settlement of Jackson to give back to the town that has given you a good life for the past five years, and most importantly you create for your students at the school you’ve taught at since your arrival. 

The fifteen years spent in the Denver QZ tried to steal your colors and mute your songs, joy became more difficult to find as each year behind the giant iron gates passed. The only sources of happiness were supplied by your small group of friends and your students in the desolate school you taught at. You never graduated high school, there was no pomp and circumstance, just a teaching job assigned to you because you were young and still remembered most of your high school education. That’s how your career was decided, funny how an apocalypse job search happens.

You tried to carve out as much of a life as you could under the overbearing and always watchful eyes of FEDRA soldiers, but it never felt whole. When the opportunity to leave Denver arrived thanks to your kind neighbor’s sister, you grabbed the few items you could and ran away from the only state you ever called home. Now, five years after your escape through the wasteland of the world to a better existence in Jackson, your life is now filled with art, music and purpose. Art supplied by the jars of paints you learned to make and what the patrollers bring you back. Music from the CD player in your house and the guitar you strum. Purpose from the weekdays spent teaching your impressionable students with actual well-rounded futures no longer doomed to become FEDRA fodder, along with the Saturdays spent working at the library you run out of your classroom. It's a good and comfortable life here, even if the nights are lonely and the only company you have in your small cottage are your cats Ripley and Penny. Some extra lonely nights, when the moon sits high atop the mountains, you can’t silence the thoughts that there’s nobody in your life who creates beautiful things for you. Too many nights you find yourself thinking about the man that lives down the street from you… Joel Miller. 

He’s so intimidating, handsome and caged off, akin to an art piece you’d pay admission to be able to stand near. Your own little museum piece you keep to yourself now that museums are obsolete. You’ve never seen anybody more gorgeous… not even in the faded celebrity magazines you cut up to make collages and art out of. Soft and full lips always hidden under a frowning mustache that rests below a large hooked nose. His dark brown eyes often focused forward, always looking in thought underneath furrowed brows. Wavy hair that matches his eye hue with soft silver streaks painted throughout. His body is strong and broad, often hidden underneath a tan flannel lined jacket. He’s tall and big–so big–somebody who has always been a protector. His hands are also large to match the rest of his features with thick fingers that sit capable and dexterous… you can tell they’re efficient for any task you ask of them. His skin is golden, born that way and bronzed by years spent outdoors. The precious pages of your notebook quickly deplete when you try to sketch and master the lines of his face. Maybe you could get the minute details if only you could stop being so afraid of the feelings he stirs inside of you.  

You’ve been enamored with him since he first showed up to Jackson– your life, and all of those feelings you’ve tried to avoid for years– upended by his presence. 

It was a normal day, like any other, when you walked into the Tipsy Bison to drop off some extra shoelaces and push pins for the community swap basket. Your eyes paused at the long communal table where your friends Maria and Tommy were seated with two strangers. A small teenage girl with a tight pony tail and a tattered sweatshirt was talking animatedly with her mouth full. You know kids well after all your years of teaching, you could already spot her tenacity across the room. Sitting next to her bent over a plate of food untamely clutching a fork was a man with a mess of graying hair and a permanent scowl plastered on his handsome face. You noted his strong jaw as he chewed his food, his eyes stared straight forward void of kindness, you wondered when the last time somebody created something beautiful for him. He was the most handsome man you’d ever seen– so intimidatingly sized even in his seated and hunched stature. You quickly flitted over to the corner where the communal basket sat and deposited your items before turning around to head back to your home when you noticed the handsome stranger looking right at you. His eyes darted away right as your eyes widened at his focus before you made your hasty retreat out of the tense room. That night you wrote a song about a once warm and inviting cabin sitting in the woods now cold and desolate with tattered floor boards and a cracked window.

The girl you saw at the Bison with the handsome stranger showed up in your class the next week. Ellie quickly became your favorite student thanks to her love of art and her smart mouth. She’s always so eager to learn in the mornings before heading out with the other older kids for patrol and community training. She doesn’t shut up about your handsome stranger, he’s Joel, Texas born and raised, he’s grumpy, and he loves coffee. He’s not her father, but he’s her protector, everything she tells you makes you think about him more. 

Sometimes you’ll see him walking down the road headed right towards you, a quick tuck of your head down or dash around the nearest corner helps alleviate the panic of being near him. One night you see him with Tommy at the Tipsy Bison in the corner drinking whiskey, your eyes stared unblinking before you realized how anyone could look over and see the way you’re ogling, you quickly created a reason to your friends why you needed to head home, to overwhelmed by his presence just a couple of rows down. Seeing him stirs up so many foreign emotions inside of you, but you like the rush. You like having your little crush, as long as you can keep your distance from him.

“Jeez, what were they thinking when they named these bands? The Shins? The Strokes? The Yeah Yeah Yeahs? Did every band just pick a random word and put The in front of it?” Ellie questions as she peruses your CD collection while you grade papers. With training for the older students canceled due to the winter snow outside, Ellie decided that you needed company in your classroom after school.

“Seems like it, doesn’t it?” you answer. “I’ll have to play them for you one day, those were some of my favorite bands when I was your age.”

“Really? Wicked! I’d love that!” she looks up from your CD book with an enthusiastic smile. You return her smile, happy for the bond the two of you share. “Joel loves music too, wonder if he’d like any of these.” Your pen pauses and your heart rate increases at the mention of his name, you feel foolish for the crush you have on your student’s “father.” 

“I’m sure there’s something in there for everyone,” you say, stacking your papers and capping your pen. “I think we should get going, before the sun sets, El. I’ll lock up.” 

“Aw man, there’s nothing to do at home,” she sighs. 

“Sorry kid,” you shrug. “I’m helping Helen at the Bison tonight and I need to eat dinner beforehand.” 

“Fiiiiiine, thanks for letting me hang with you, this was really fun,” she says as she grabs her backpack and jacket. “Bye Teach!”

Watching her leave, the thought plants in your head that she’s only a couple years younger than the age you were when the outbreak happened. 

The world thaws when winter turns to spring, the sun stays up longer allowing patrollers a better chance to scavenge and bring their finds back. The wish list posted above the communal basket in the Tipsy Bison is filled with requests. Residents ask for a broom, a TV input cable, a glue gun, crayons, and other utilitarian items to help make life easier. You think about writing down the one thing you wish for the most, a new CD player. Your prized possession finally spun its last song a couple days ago making your home fall silent without your constant companion of music. The irony isn’t lost on you that your just as ancient guitar now lays silent against the wall, the crack on the neck finally broke from overuse. You don’t write down your main wish, instead choosing to note that the school needs chalk and you need a new oven mitt. 

“Thought I told you not to touch my stereo kid,” the deep timbre of a Texas accented voice shocks you. Your heart begins to thud against your chest while goosebumps spread along your body; you’re frozen on the floor while you attempt to hide your internal panic. Joel is home. Of course he’s home, this is HIS home and you’re in it breaking HIS rules listening to your favorite mixed CD on HIS stereo system that’s much grander than your pitiful broken CD player. Why did you think letting YOUR STUDENT who’s half your age convince you this was a good idea?

“I know, relax! I’m being active in the community like you asked me to,” Ellie’s response drips with her unshakeable sarcasm. 

Your head turns to find his deep brown eyes boring right into you, he gives you a half smile as you stare back at him, mouth slightly agape. Joel Miller is in Joel Miller’s house with you. 

“This is the teacher I told you about, her stereo broke and I know how important music is to her–kinda like how it is to you. I invited her over so she could play me some of her stuff,” Ellie reasons. The kid is never not convincing. 

You quickly stuff your CD case into your backpack and stand, trying to escape the anxiety of being here in the cozy Miller household with the not-so-cozy-looking Mr. Miller. 

“Mm,” Joel grunts out before turning to you and reaching his hand out. “I‘m Joel.” His big hand envelops yours when you softly grab it to say hello. 

You nervously give him your name, trying to calm your panicked heart. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep any boundaries... I-I really appreciate her offering to help me. My stereo broke a couple days ago and she knew it upset me.” You nervously stammer feeling like a thirteen year old in trouble again as you begin to fiddle with the gold daisy chain around your neck.

“Don’t worry about it,” he urges before looking at Ellie, “I can look past this if it means means you’re getting out of that damn garage.” 

Ellie rolls her eyes, you wonder if every conversation they have is Joel putting a rule down and Ellie breaking it. “She has way better music taste than you have old man. None of that twangy sad music you try to get me to listen to.”

You start to feel antsy as Joel crowds the small space around you. 

“I-I have to head out, I promised Helen I’d help her at the Tipsy Bison.” You’re not due for another hour but you can’t fathom the idea of being unwelcome in Joel’s house.

“Oh, okay. Well, you’re welcome back whenever you want… right Joel?” Ellie looks at him, angling her eyebrow, knowing she’s going to get the answer she wants from him. 

“Uh— of course. S’pose any friend of Ellie’s is welcome here,” Joel hesitates with a smile, his deep brown eyes crinkle in the corners. He’s ridiculously handsome this close, it’s staggering. 

“Thank you again Ellie, I’ll see you tomorrow, make sure you bring your notebook,” you say, turning to walk out the door. 

You rush home, hoping the distinct woodsy smell of Joel’s house on your clothes will linger for a while. You almost trip when you realize you’ve left your favorite mixed CD in Joel’s stereo.

Weeks pass, and the weather gets warmer. Spring is in the air, the trees are covered in bright green leaves, flowers bloom along the vast gardens of fruits and vegetables, everyone’s days turn longer with more tasks to accomplish. There’s always a hopeful breeze in the air for everyone, no longer bunkered down and locked away by the snowy weather. 

Your mixed CD is now a victim of your inability to be anywhere near Joel. Either Ellie decided to keep it for herself, or Joel's decided for you that you don't want it back, especially since you obviously crossed a line. In an odd way, it’s actually a nice feeling, kind of like old times when you'd forget a CD in your friend's car or in your locker over winter break.  It's not like you have anything to play it on, your house is still silent, save for the purring of your cats or whatever song you can remember to hum to yourself. 

It's a warmer day than usual, the sun shines bright and hot in the clear blue sky; all you can think about is getting home and taking a long bath after helping out at the community garden. Your hurried footsteps pitter patter against the warm asphalt in front of Joel’s house. Your heart always begins to race as it comes into view, once in a while you'll get to steal a glance of him leaving for patrol at the same time you're heading to school– those are good mornings. This sweltering afternoon you’ve certainly lucked out, he’s in his yard working on repairing a broken fence post. Your steps begin to slow as you see him set the hammer down, wipe the back of his hand across his sweaty brow, and stretch his back. Panic sets in at the realization he could look right over and see you in the state you’re currently in. You’ve been up to your knees in soil since school ended, watering and deadheading plants while letting the dirt on your skin bake in the warm sun. Your anxious steps pick up pace, failing to hop over the divot in the road you always remember to avoid. A trip and a fall ends with you landing hard on your stomach knocking the wind out of you. You can just make out the fall of heavy boot steps on the ground over the sound of your lungs gasping for air as you turn over.

“Whoa whoa whoa, you okay darlin’?” Joel asks. His broad body eclipses the bright sun when he bends over your body splayed out on the pavement. “S’alright, s’alright, breathe.” 

You lose even more breath at the sight of him. The sheen of sweat against his skin makes it glow bright. This is the first time you’ve seen him without a jacket or flannel, there’s a constellation of freckles on his neck you’ve never noticed. His biceps strain the fabric of his short sleeves when he reaches to put a comforting hand on your shoulder. You can’t tell if you’re still panicking from your fall or the stress of Joel seeing you as pathetic as you think you look. He called you darling and you feel like a fool. 

“I’m okay–I-I’m sorry…. I’m okay,” gasps out between breaths. You whimper from pain as you attempt to stand but it hurts far too much. 

“Hold on, hold on, there’s no need to rush, you took a mighty fall. Ya’ got a big cut on your knee, let me help you,” Joel’s eyes roam you under brows wrinkled with concern. 

“No, no, I’m okay really, I-I’m really okay,” you try to calmly assert, losing terribly against your rising embarrassment. 

“S’alright now, I have some peroxide and bandages in my house, Ellie’d kill me if she knew I left you injured,” he implores reaching his hand out. "I want to help you, come here."

“I– okay,” you grab his hand, his strong fingers wrap around yours, oh god he’s so warm, “I-I don’t want to bother you.”

“Now, I’ll have none ‘a that, come on,” he helps you stand steadying you with an arm around your waist, the adrenaline of being this close to him makes a bit of the pain fade, though the humiliation remains. 

He slowly leads you up his walkway, his hand lays splayed against your hip holding you tight. Your head rests against him close enough to feel the dampness of his sweaty shirt against your cheek.

He leads you into his house, the realization isn’t lost on you that this is now the second time you’ve been inside his home. Both times you’ve felt like an idiot. What is your luck?

You slowly sit down on his couch, Joel gently helps you settle against the cushions before placing a pillow behind your back for support. "You alright?” he asks, his voice drags heavily with concern. You nod, keeping your eyes focused on your bare legs, marred by dirt and gravel mixed with blood. “Just relax for a second, I’ll go grab everything." He retreats, his loud boot steps get fainter allowing you to take a deep breath and attempt to center yourself. 

The last time you were in Joel’s home you were far too anxious to focus on anything besides Ellie and the music coming out of the stereo. Solitude now allows a chance to look closely at Joel’s living room; for somebody with so many stories swirling around town about his gruffness and irritability, his home sure is warm and inviting. Wood carvings sit on shelves, a couple of tattered sports magazines lay on the coffee table, a chipped owl mug sits atop a book on the side table next to a chair. All of it presents quite domestic and comfortable for a single man and an adopted daughter in the apocalypse. Your eyes roam along the beige walls and pause when you spot a familiar painting hung near the front window. An elk stands alone, amongst a field of flowers, large antlers reach into the light blue sky. You painted it just a few months ago, using your favorite water colors. You gave it to Tommy for Christmas, as a thank you for always making sure you have first dibs of paints that patrollers bring in. Why does Joel have it?

“Don’t have any large bandages but I got a gauze roll,” Joel startles as he takes a seat atop the coffee table across from you. 

“That’s my painting? I painted that… for Tommy,” your inner thoughts escape your mouth, surprising you.

He turns and follows your eyes to the small piece of paper pinned on his wall. “You painted that? S’good. Saw it on my brother’s wall and asked him if I could have it, he was kinda reluctant but I told him how it reminds me of the painting I used to have over my bed before… everything.” The last word comes out as a huff, like he still doesn't know what word to use for these last twenty years.

“I love elks, they remind me of where I’m from… I’ve always liked painting the wildlife I grew up around the most,” your eyes remain focused on your painting. “Herds of elk used to live near my Dad’s home in the mountains, I used to hear their calls during the mating season.” 

“S’nice to remember those small moments, I guess your painting helps me,” he gently muses. 

“I’m glad,” you whisper.

Joel delicately lifts your leg up and places it on his lap, resting it against the soft strength of his thighs. Your heart feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest when you look down at this intimate moment with your dream man. Your breaths escape your mouth in rapid succession, your only hope is Joel blames your panic on the threat of the peroxide and not his close proximity. 

“S’gonna sting,” he warns before pouring the clear liquid onto your knee. Your breath catches in your throat when it hits your sensitive skin and burns. You suppress a whimper and feel slightly dizzy at the sight of him bending forward and delicately blowing on your wound. His breath cools the heat of your burning skin but lights a fire inside of your body you haven’t felt in years.  He glances up, his dark brown eyes stay focused on your face. “Doin’ alright?” 

You nervously chew on your bottom lip and nod. “Y-yes, yeah,” you mumble, “I-I’m okay it just hurts a lot to move.” Heaven forbid you tell him the truth, that you’re acting this way because he’s the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen, and now his hands are on you.

"I know, that gravel is a sucker," he gently reassures, picking up your other leg and placing it on top of his lap. “S’bouta sting again,” he warns. 

You try to focus on the burn of the peroxide and not on Joel’s fingertips resting against the back of your knee. He blows on the peroxide as it bubbles again, your heart skips a beat when his deep brown eyes meet yours again. You get the sense that he knows exactly why you’re responding the way you are. 

He lifts a faded gray wash cloth up and wipes both of your knees with the utmost tenderness. He picks up the fabric bandage, and lifts your knee higher to rest your foot against his broad chest. 

“Place a finger here so I can wrap you,” Joel directs just as gently as his touch, “let me know if it’s too stiff for you.” His hand tightens around your knee as he slowly unravels the gauze around your leg and bandages your wound. “How’s that?” 

You bend your leg back and forth and place it on the floor. “Feels good, thanks.”

“Course,” he says, lifting your other leg higher to start. He smirks when you place your finger on top of the bandage without him asking, and begins to wrap the gauze around your other leg. 

“I’d try to take it easy the next few days, give you a chance to heal,” Joel utters, tucking the bandage in and smoothing it down. 

“I will. Thanks for all your help… you really didn’t have to,” your voice cracks in embarrassment. 

“You don’t have to thank me, Ellie’d kill me if she found out I left you hurt in front of my home,” he cracks a smile at the mention of her name. “She talks about you a lot, I should be thanking you for giving her a reason to love goin’ to school.”

“She’s one of the best parts of my day,” your smile matches his when you think about her smart mouth, “I love having her around, she’s always so eager to learn and give her opinion."

“She's always showing me some new art way she learned from you or talking about a band she wants to hear that you told her about. You mean a lot to her.”

“She’s a special kid.”

“She is,” he says, his deep brown eyes look into yours. You’ve never noticed just how much his dark eyes glisten. Like the perfect color of black coffee. 

The sweet shared moment turns more awkward as you both maintain eye contact and nod over your shared adoration of Ellie. It feels like he’s looking at you under a microscope.

You cut the tension and softly clear your throat before slowly rising from the couch. “Well, I should get going, I’ve already taken up enough of your time. I really appreciate everything.”

“S’no problem at all,” he quickly stands and places a steadying hand on your back before leading you to the door and down his walkway.

You spy his tools laying abandoned and strewn across the lawn. “I hope I didn’t keep you from finishing your fence,” you apologize.

“I’ll manage… take care of yourself,” his hand retreats from your back when he opens the gate for you. 

“Thanks Joel, you too.” You really shouldn’t have looked back at him to get one last glimpse, he’s beautiful, especially now lit by the slowly setting sun. 

Walking away from him as confidently as you can, you feel his eyes follow you the whole way. You’ve never been so thankful to see your little cottage, escaping behind the protection of your front door before you grin and grab your paints and brushes. That night you paint another photo of an elk, this time with golden toned fur and deep brown eyes. 

Saturday mornings are always busy, running your library never allows you the luxury to eat pancakes at the hall like everyone else on the weekends. You’re always turning to the left rushing towards the schoolhouse while everyone takes a right heading to eggs, pancakes, and coffee. This particular Saturday you’re moving slower thanks to your injured knees and the large box of books patrol brought you from their runs. 

“Mornin’," Joel shouts, quickly striding towards you from the hall exit. “Lemme take those for you.” 

“Oh, hi,” you pause in your tracks when he stops in front of you and grabs the box out of your hands. “You really don’t have to take–"

“None ‘a that,” he shushes, effortlessly lifting the box of books higher. "Where are we going with these?"

"Just over to the school house for the library," you nod your head towards the little brick building.

“How are the knees doing?” he asks, slowing his gait to match your slower pace.

“A lot better, thanks.”

“Glad to hear.” 

You fish the key out of your pocket, unlock the door, and let Joel follow you down the hallway to your classroom. You flick the lights on, fluorescent bulbs buzz illuminating your second home. 

You sit in your chair to rest your already aching knees, you’d still be halfway to the schoolhouse if it wasn’t for Joel’s kind assistance. 

“You can put the box on my desk,” you direct, rubbing your sore knee. 

He places the box on your desk before his eyes focus on the bright mural on the wall behind your desk. “Wow, I haven’t seen something like this in a long time. S’beautiful,” he breathes out incredulously. 

A grin lifts your tired face before you swivel in your chair to look at the mural. “Goodness, thank you. I just finished it a couple of weeks ago. I really wanted to make sure the kids had something fun and colorful to focus on while in class. It was hard for me to work in this plain, white room for so long. It took a long time to save up enough paint.” 

He slowly walks over and places his hand on the cold cinder block wall. “Bluebells. The flower of Texas,” he faintly whispers.

His large fingers trace the outlines of your painted indigo petals, you feel like you shouldn’t be allowed to see this type of gentle tenderness coming out of such hard and strong hands. He delicately touched you like this when he bandaged your knees. There was once softness surrounding all of Joel, the permanent grimace and rough reputation for him brought on by the harshness of existing in this world. 

He turns to you, keeping his hand on your mural. “Where you from?” he asks, curiously gazing into your eyes.

“I was in the Denver QZ.”

“No, where were you from before everything?”

“Oh, sorry. Still Colorado, just more in the mountains,” you say, concentrating on the columbine flower next to the bluebell. “Florissant to be exact. It’s a little town famous for dinosaurs. My students, especially Ellie, love to hear all about dinosaurs. I was very lucky to be where I was when everything–happened–just far enough to escape.”

“Nice state, I went skiing there once as a teen, had plans to go again before… everything,” he turns to look back at the bluebells again.

“Big of a Texan to compliment Colorado,” you jest, standing up and grabbing the library supplies from your desk.

He chuckles with a shake of his head. “Good one. Did y’know you forgot your CD at my house?” 

“I did, sorry about that. I figured Ellie just decided to keep it for herself. I don't mind, not like I have anything to play it on right now,” your voice drops thinking about how long it’s been since you’ve heard your favorite songs.

You begin to place down your hand painted placards on the tables. 

He walks over and picks one of the cards up and admires it. “Can I help you?”

“If you want, just pick up a pile of books and put them on their respective tables. Children’s, Mystery, Romance, Non-Fiction, Sci-Fi, Miscellaneous.” 

He dutifully picks up a stack of books. “You do this by yourself?”

“Usually, I sometimes have help but I think everyone here works so hard during the week they like their slow Saturdays, I can’t ask them to give up sleeping in.” 

“Sleeping in, must be nice. Can’t do such a thing. Ellie would sleep all day if I allowed her.”

“You’re right,” you say, squeezing by him to grab a pile of books. “Must be nice.”

He holds up a thick paperback with yellow pages and a burgundy cover, a muscled, orange toned man with long blonde hair holds a wispy brunette damsel. “I take it with a title like ‘Burning Tenderness’ it goes in romance?” Joel winks. You’d never imagine you would ever see someone like him joke.  

“Well, I’d fire you on the spot if you placed it in non-fiction.”

His bellowing laugh echoes across your classroom. You like hearing him laugh. 

The library is set up a half hour before opening thanks to yours and Joel’s expeditious work.

You take a seat on the edge of your desk to rest your knees.  “I’ve never gotten done this early before. Between your help earlier this week and today I feel like I owe you something. Is there any way I could repay you for your kindness?” 

He sighs, glancing back at your mural. “Those bluebells you painted,” he inhales a large breath, “do you think you could paint some of those for me in my house?” 

“Oh my, I’d love to,” your face lights with a smile. You can’t believe he’s asking this of you. “I can start it anytime.”

“D’you want to come over Monday after you’re done at the school? I told Ellie I’d spend the day with her tomorrow.” 

“That sounds great,” you reply, not believing your luck that Joel Miller is inviting you over to his house.

“Great. Should probably head out and start my day. Taking this as payment for my work today,” he says holding up a book.

“‘As I Lay Dying?’ Didn’t pin you as a Faulkner fan,” you muse, opening your logbook to note the title down.

“Liked the horse on the cover.” 

“You’re so Texas. It’s a good book, enjoy it Joel.”

“See you Monday. Good luck today.” 

“Yes, Monday,” you respond, trying not to smile too hard. “Thanks again for all your help.”

“Course,” he nods before walking out the door. 

Today’s going to be a great day, it already started out better than you ever could have hoped.

Back home after a busy day you sit in your favorite chair with your cats on your lap and sketch bluebells until you fall asleep with your pencil in hand.

[thisaintascenereviews]

Sam Barber - Million Eyes

The rise of Zach Bryan within the last few years, especially last year, means that we’re starting to see some clones pop up on other record labels. I’m sure every other label saw Warner making a lot of money with Bryan, namely “I Remember Everything” with Kacey Musgraves going to number one and staying in the top ten for a long time, and got money signs in their eyes. We’ve gotten a few artists in this vein that have kind of popped up, but they haven’t gotten the same level of success (at least not yet). The two artists that I’ve seen mainly are Dylan Gossett and Sam Barber.

I’ve been hesitant on listening to them, simply for the fact that they’re kind of just Zach Bryan clones. If you know me, you know I love Zach Bryan and his last album was one of my top favorites of last year. It’s inevitable that we’re going to get artists that sound like popular ones, essentially to capitalize on a certain trend or something that’s popular. Whether they’re good or not is the real question, and while I really like Dylan Gossett, I’m going to focus on Sam Barber here, because I don’t know how to feel about his stuff. I’ve enjoyed a few songs he’s put out, such as “Straight And Narrow,” but I wasn’t sure how an EP or album would fair.

As for right now, we do have an EP that he put out last year, entitled Million Eyes, and despite only listening to it now, I wanted to talk about it because I’ve been in the mood for some country and Americana. I just haven’t found a whole lot that’s new I’ve wanted to get into, minus the new Dustin Kensrue and Oliver Anthony albums, so I’ve spent some time looking for some country, folk, and Americana albums I missed last year. Barber’s an artist that’s been on the rise for the last couple years, so I thought now would be as good of a time as any to dive into Million Eyes.

It’s weird, because I don’t quite know how I feel about this album. Sam Barber is a good artist, all things considered, but I feel as though a few things hold him back from being truly great. I will say that he’s only 20, so I shouldn’t be too harsh, as he’s got time to grow, but there are some issues I have with not only this album, but his music at large. Nothing on here is outright bad, but the album works on a few songs, versus as a whole. “Straight And Narrow” is a good example of that, where the lyrics are quite compelling and the music is catchy and energetic, especially compared with his gravelly and weathered voice. It’s just that not much else even competes with that “lightning in a bottle” song.

Barber’s vocals are good, despite how he does remind me a lot of Zach Bryan throughout this album, and a few other songs are pretty solid, such as “Drowning,” and the title track, but other songs just feel bland, forgettable, or not that great. “Dancing In The Sky,” while being a cover, is really boring (musically and lyrically), and the song is a slog to get through. It’s a weirdly religious song, too, and not in a way that has anything to say other than “I hope you’re having a good time in Heaven.” I suppose that isn’t a bad message, but there are tons of country songs like that, despite this being a cover.

Where the album kind of loses me, at least in a lyrical way that shows Barber isn’t as lyrically adept as his peers is “Ghost Town.” I don’t like the lyrics of this song, because they sound like the musical version of “old man yelling at cloud.” The song is Barber’s way of saying “remember the good old days,” while using generic imagery of small town life, and saying that the world has lost its way. He never explains how, as most of these songs don’t, but this just feels so conservative coded, it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. The song could have been interesting, especially diving more into the titular ghost town, as I thought the town he’s referring to became that way from economic hardship, but he just talks about how beer and baseball games were “common ground” for people back in the day. Barber’s 20, so how does he remember the good old days? Does he mean like a decade ago?

I don’t know, that song in particular irritates me, but the rest of the record is kind of bland, uninspired, and not just that memorable. I’ve been going back to it a lot, hoping that the next listen will stick with me, but this record just fades into the background, especially compared to some of the other rising stars in this vein. He just sounds like the Zach Bryan we have at home, and that’s not necessarily a compliment, because I already love Zach Bryan, but at least stand out in some way. “Straight And Narrow” is a cool song, but that’s the only song on this record that I keep coming back to.

[goldenmusicmoments]

A Scenic Journey Through Deeper Well By Kacey Musgraves:

Kacey Musgraves had been hinting at an album release earlier on in the year and then during the Grammy Awards she aired a visual teaser. After that we got an official announcement and she also revealed that the title track would be released as the first taster for what was to come. She then performed on Saturday Night Live, after which she released the second song she performed on the show. Kacey is a great artist and she’s really made it known that she loves curating a body of work. Each of her records have stood out in their own ways and she’s switched things up from one to the next. Her passion has always been to make great music that takes you on a journey, paying no regard to appeasing mainstream music.

The album opens up with the folk inspired ‘Cardinal’ which is due to the instrumentation used here. She recently lost a dear friend, and she see’s the sighting of a cardinal as a sign from them. The bridge adds a bit of drama, changing up the dynamic of the song. The repetition of the lyrics in the bridge point to her eagerness to figure out what the message means. It’s a beautiful start to the journey Kacey is about to take you on. ‘Deeper Well’ the title track follows with the guitar pulling you into this rather light and dreamy moment. It feels very contemplative as she’s making changes in her life, by getting rid of the people and habits that she feels like are just wasting her time. She’s now looking for things that have more depth to them. The way her vocals have been produced really heightens the tracks dreamy nature. You get lost in the song as you find yourself closing your eyes and taking in the journey of growth she’s taking you on. 

On ‘Too Good To Be True’ the guitar sticks around and the vocals are placed right at the front, this one feels dreamy as well with a hint of sombreness. This is about the feelings that arise during the process of falling in love. Where you are excited by the premises of new love, however at the same time you fear something going wrong. She lets them know that if they are good to her, she’ll reciprocate that treatment. She hopes that he’s not too good to be true. The bridge features instrumentation and tender vocalisations. The song ends on a lyrical moment where she doesn’t want to wake up from a dream. A stunning moment that has an essence of vulnerability that you find yourself lost in. 

We move onto ‘Moving Out’ and this laid back reflective moment retains the previous tracks sombreness. The guitar driven production adds to its journey driven nature that is depicted through the lyrical content. The two are moving out of a place they called home, and she seems to be looking over the memories formed during the time they spent together there. She’s sad about the move, however she’s looking forward to what the future holds as well. It isn’t clear as to whether the two will be moving to a new place together or that they are going their separate ways. Kacey’s vocal delivery hosts a slight rasp to it and it really adds to the sadness put forth through the lyrics. The song closes out with dragged out instrumentation which makes you think of end credits rolling at the end of a movie or an episode of a TV show, which is fitting as here a chapter is closing to make way for a new one to begin. 

‘Giver/Taker’ dives deeper into the relationship as she makes it clear that things just aren’t working out for the two of them. She’s trying as she lets it be known that she’d give him everything he’d want, whilst expecting the same of him. In the bridge she wants reassurance that he will be fully devoted to her, as she wants him all to herself. The production paired with her vocals fills the space around you as you feel the track embrace you in its arms. Kacey isn’t allowing anything to get to her on ‘Sway’ where she stands firmly, letting it be known that she’ll bend, not break. As she’s willing to alter or compromise where necessary. She asks the person of interest to let her know what his secret is to not being fazed. The production sounds like the sound of horse hooves which play to the songs journey towards growth nature. The reflective track closes out on these cascading layered vocals that give it a grand and uplifting ending. 

Now on the guitar led track ‘Dinner With Friends’ it seems like she is yarning for someone. It is a cosy track that you find yourself immersed in. It is a beautiful moment that may make you miss those you haven’t seen in a moment or wished were nearby. The difference in melody of the verses and the chorus offers variation, altering the mood. Though she’s yarning in the verses, during the chorus she seems to be reminiscing about specific things relating to the person of interest. There is a hint of happiness in her remembering him, as it feels as though she’s smiling whilst singing the chorus. The structure of the song is interesting as we get two verses, then the chorus and another verse. The song ends with the chorus that closes out with her humming. 

‘Heart Of The Woods’ explores the connection between humans and nature, as she sings about the tendency of humans to lookout for each other in moments of need. Its a short and light moment that due to its duration may remind you of ‘Mother’ from her album Golden Hour. The production and vocal delivery give it a brighter edge enhancing the tracks hope driven lyrics.

‘Jade Green’ starts with production that makes you feel as though you are being carried by waves along a river. Here she feels a little vulnerable and anxious, thus she finds herself holding onto a bracelet given to her by someone who’s no longer a part of her life. The bracelet provides her with a sense of comfort. It also points to how even though we move on from someone, there is always some part of them we don’t want to let go off. The chorus hosts a similar feel to that of the opening track and the structure takes from that of ‘Dinner With Friends’. The guitar then takes centre stage at the end for a brief outro.

Now on ‘The Architect’ she has a few questions for the creator about life and all its occurrences. She’s unsure as to whether she’ll even get a response, however she really wants to know whether things could be done differently. By the end she questions whether the ‘architect’ even exists, due to the lack of answers to her questions. The production is tender and plays to the songs nature of being lost in your own thoughts. The chorus has someone lightly harmonising in the background. The bridge features instrumentation and airy vocalisation which makes you feel like you are floating. 

‘Lonely Millionaire’ provides for a slight shift in the production and styling of the album so far. She’s letting it be known that money doesn’t make it easier when it comes to the feeling of loneliness and that she’d trade it all for the person of topic. You might find yourself grooving to this rather chill moment. It in a way is this albums ‘Velvet Elvis’ where even that track felt a little out of place on Golden Hour. She’s gone from feeling lonely on the weekend to being a lonely millionaire. The bridge is dreamy with her ‘La la la’s’ and then we go into the final chorus. The track closes out with a mix of her humming and the ‘la la la’s’. The hook is an interpolation of JID’s song ‘Kody Blu 31’.

Kacey showcases her vocals on ‘Heaven Is’ as it is easily the most beautiful vocal performance from her on the album. You find yourself drawn into the track here and it has this feeling of warmth. It sounds like a lullaby and doesn’t feature a proper chorus. She sings about how just being with him is the equivalent of being in heaven. She wants nothing more than him. The production takes a backseat, as her vocals are the prominent feature here. ‘Anime Eyes’ is one of her most fascinating tracks musically, as she sings about love that elicits her eyes to light up. The production in the chorus in particular will make you feel this surge of joy. The track is magical and that bridge lifts the entire mood making it feel as though you are ascending a staircase, as all these emotions burst out of the seams. In a way mimicking fireworks going off. Everything then stops throwing you off for a moment and it gradually comes back shifting the entire dynamic of the track, ending it on a dreamy ethereal note. It definitely is one of the most surprising moments on the album. 

‘Nothing To Be Scared Of’ brings the album to an end on a hopeful note. The verses feature her singing about the precautions we often take in attempt to protect ourselves from getting hurt. She also in a beautiful way puts forward the message of, if it's meant to be it will be. The first chorus is her letting him know that in a moment of need he can find comfort in her, in the next one she flips it. It shares the sentiment put forth in ‘Heart Of The Woods’. There’s a feeling of warmth and comfort through her vocal delivery and tender production, as she reassures the person she’s speaking to that there is nothing to be scared of. It’s a stunning finish to the record and in tune with how Kacey perceives life to function.

Overall the album is a masterful body of work that is cohesive both sonically and thematically. She yet again switches things up and gives us something different to what she’s done before. This one does in a way draw from the songwriting style of Golden Hour, though it is a much more sombre record in comparison. People have been expecting a ‘Golden Hour 2.0’ from her and they should know that they’ll not be getting that. That in itself has resulted in them being disappointed or complaining about the record. They did that with Star-Crossed and now they are doing it with this record. Star-Crossed was a great record and one that deserved a lot more recognition. Deeper Well is even stronger and one that will definitely find high placement in this years year-end lists. It also seems to be an early favourite for an Album of the Year nomination at the next Grammy Awards. Which she and the record truly deserve. As she’s created something yet again that many aspire to, but can’t quite execute. With each listen this record grows and continues to feel fresh. The album is one that will sound perfect on a long drive through roads surrounded by greenery.

[avaliveradio]

Songwriter Chloe Borthwick has the power to captivate an audience

Songwriters are not just musicians, they are also storytellers. The best songwriters have the ability to transport listeners to new worlds, evoke emotions, and tell real stories through their music.

One talented storyteller that I recently discovered is Chloe Borthwick. Her ability to lead the listener through an experience has the power to captivate an audience. Her descriptive imagery resonates with the listener and creates magical moments. It’s a wonderful experience and I highly recommend listening to her new single, ‘Don't Ghost Me’. 

‘Don't Ghost Me’ is a contemporary country-pop tune that recounts a first date experience in a hook-driven, twangy musical landscape. The song is narrated from the female perspective with a title that deceptively teases a fear of being ghosted. A few bars in, we learn that it is her date’s desperate plea that ultimately creates his self-fulfilling prophecy.

Chloe Borthwick has a unique presence in her voice and she is able to turn her abilities into something warmhearted and  pleasing. I like her tone as she expresses the lyrics. She’s able to capture the attitude of the song very well adding the right amount of texture to the right areas in the performance. 

The lead vocals are honest and commanding, allowing the listener to fully immerse themselves in the story. The melody is supported by catchy piano and guitar riffs, complemented by atmospheric pedal steel harmonies. The song, while potentially pop-oriented, exudes a humble country vibe. A gripping bridge and tender interlude build up to a powerful final chorus. “Don’t Ghost Me” is a must listen for anyone that’s ever been on any side of a ghosting experience.

With an honest, yet forceful lead vocal, you understand the story as if it’s being spoken to you. catchy piano and guitar riffs support the melody, with atmospheric pedal steel hummings- giving what could be a pop song a distinctly humble, country vibe. A climactic bridge, followed by a tender interlude, lead the listener to an impactful final chorus.

Chloe Borthwick - Don't Ghost Me Music Genre: Soft Rock / Pop Country Vibe: Fun, Sassy, Cute, catchy Located in: New York, USA Sounds like: Maren Morris, Miley Cyrus, Olivia Rodrigo

EP.

Don’t Ghost Me will be a part of a 9 song EP, Sharp Left, to be released in May 2023. Fans of Maren Morris, Carrie, Miley Cyrus and Kacey Musgraves will appreciate the unique instrumentation and cross-genre stylings– as well as the strong, sassy female theme.

Chloe is an award-winning singer-songwriter from NYC. With an organically soulful sound, she effortlessly blends pop, country and R&B. Chloe graduated college with a double major in classical oboe and vocal jazz at William Paterson University. She has found her true love in writing, performing and producing contemporary music.

Chloe has been writing and performing since she was 13 when her original song “Hardly Breathe” placed second in the sixth annual MusiCares® Teens Make Music Contest. The song was also a semi-finalist of the 2016 International Songwriting Competition (ISC). In 2017 she was selected as one of the 8 vocalist in the prestigious 2017 GRAMMY Camp Jazz Session choir, where she sang with 30 of the best young jazz musicians in the country in performances throughout GRAMMY Week, including the GRAMMY after-party and Entertainment Tonight.

Chloe is a full-time musician playing throughout New York and New Jersey as both a self-accompanied soloist or with her band, Chloe Bee Band, comprised of some of the best up and coming musicians in the NYC music scene.

Social Links & Website: http://chloebeemusic.com/

https://www.instagram.com/ChloeBeeMusic/

https://www.tiktok.com/@chloebeemusic

Featured on the Songwriters Playlist

[bloodhoundluke]

and i love the way you decorate my heart ✧ luke hemmings

description: luke and his girlfriend are spending christmas together at the hemmings' household. y/n is not the biggest fan of christmas, but it turns out that it just takes the right people to make christmas enjoyable.

pairing: gf!reader x luke hemmings

warnings: mentions of nonfunctional family dynamics and (strong) alcohol usage, family trauma (?), cursing, angst, fluff. slight smut. please let me know if there's anything else.

word count: 2,3k-ish. (this wasn't supposed to be this long, oops).

a/:n: so, i wanted to write a christmas related piece. if you are struggling this christmas, i am sending you virtual hugs <3 you'll get through this, i promise. the title is lyrics from the song 'glittery' by kacey musgraves :) ps. i didn't want to wait any longer to publish this...i was supposed to do it tomorrow hehe!

You had always despised Christmas. When November turned to December, it was like you could almost feel the anxiety of having to spend another Christmas with your family already. Your friends always gushed about what presents they’d buy their parents and how they couldn’t wait to get home. You felt beaten. Broken. And bitter. Jealous. And oh, that made you feel so guilty. 

That was until before you had met the 23-year old Australian guy who stole your heart. Slowly, you started to even like Christmas. You had started dating him in August, and you spent the first Christmas separately. It was awful. You were with your family. The fights that had happened that night left you frustrated. Your mother had made comments of your ‘unpleasant appearance’ and how you had changed for the worse. Your father was drunk and out of his mind, talking how he could have never imagined his daughter would be like this. To him, seeing you around was a constant reminder of fucked up a child he had. Or that’s at least what he told you with a whiskey bottle in his hands. Why couldn’t you just have a functional family, you asked yourself. 

You had called Luke that night and he made sure he’d do anything in his power to lighten up your mood, even if he couldn’t have been there physically. He hated how he couldn’t be there to comfort you, you were more than a thousand miles away. He hated how your family treated you. He hated how small they made you feel. He hated how they didn’t appreciate you for the loving person you actually were. He made you promise that you’d spend the next Christmas with his family. And you did. 

Now, two years later you were spending the second Christmas at the Hemmings household. You had a guilty conscience of how his family felt like home rather than your own biological family. Your family didn’t make you laugh like they did. They never understood like you Luke’s family did. They didn’t accept you as you were, unlike the Hemmings household.

You arrived last night at the Hemmings’ house with Luke and Petunia. Since you and Luke were exhausted from the long flight you decided to just eat and go to sleep afterwards. Ben and Jack woke Luke up in the morning, and asked Luke to go for a hike together. Luke insisted on having more time as he wanted to cuddle you for a while. With half-shut eyes, he snuggled closer to you and planted kisses on your cheek. That little habit of his always made you smile. There was no better way to start your mornings than with Luke. The memories of the nights he was on tour while you were all alone made you melancholic. But luckily, Luke was there now. After ten or so minutes of his arms wrapped around your frame, he got up and went for the hike with his brothers. The morning continued by walking and feeding Petunia, eating breakfast, getting ready for the day and hanging out with Luke’s parents, Liz and Andy.

It was 11am. You were sitting on the couch in the living room and scratched Petunia behind her ears. That dog loved when people did that. Despite the fact that Petunia was Luke’s dog, you basically felt like you were her dog mother. And Luke felt like that too - he loved his little family. Your little family. Luke, Ben and Jack came back from the hike, all sweaty. Luke wanted to wrap his arms around you tightly, but you insisted. “There’s no way in hell I am hugging you when you smell like…how do I put this the nicest way possible? Death.” “That’s the nicest way possible? Damn. I must smell pretty bad then. I’ma grab a shower and come back for cuddles”.

You didn’t understand what made Luke so physically affectionate during this time of year. It was like something in the December air made him extra cuddly and sappy. You didn’t want to complain though. It was not like you hadn't craved his touch when he was away from you. 

Then, it was time to decorate the Christmas tree just a tiny bit more. Luke and you had gone ornament shopping a few weeks ago. You put some of the ornaments on your own Christmas tree at your house, but saved two of them to put in the Hemmings Christmas tree. You and Luke put up the golden reindeer and sparkly little Bulldog ornaments - of course Luke wanted to get that one - in the tree.

The holiday spirit definitely was in the air. Kacey Musgraves' and Troye Sivan's song Glittery was playing in the background and Luke, being the singer he is, sang along.

And every single kiss is like a Gift to me And I love the way you decorate my heart, oh

The whole Hemmings family was dressed in Christmas related outfits, as you were too. Luke was wearing a snowman themed sweater. You, on the other hand, had stolen a green 5SOS Christmas sweater from Luke’s closet. 

“Geez, I thought I had lost that one”, Luke’s comment made you feel a bit guilty.

“Are you mad that I took it?”.

“Nah. You look definitely better in that than me”, he just smiled. There was no way that he could be mad at you when you looked that adorable. 

The whole Hemmings family and you watched some Christmas movies and snacked on chocolate and other delicacies. You didn’t even know how to explain how homey felt at that moment. When none of you spoke, the silence was comfortable. It wasn’t awkward. You weren’t in flight or fight mode. It felt relieving. With your legs on Luke’s lap and his hands on your legs, you took a photo of Luke as he was concentrating on the film Home Alone. He giggled as soon as he realized you took a photo of him. You wanted to hear that giggle forever. 

You lounged on the sofa together, your head now in his lap. Petunia was on the other side of Luke, snuggling close to him. Luke bent down to kiss you. Snap. Liz took a photo of you, which made Luke frown “Mom”. Liz just explained that she couldn’t have not taken the photo - you looked so perfect in that moment. She knew how much you meant to Luke. She knew how much Luke loved you. And she also knew how you were the most important person in his life. Luke had told it all to his mother; how your love made him a better man. How you were his silver lining.

Luke wanted to post that photo to Instagram Stories and after a few minutes of convincing you looked absolutely adorable in that photo, you gave up. He posted the photo with the text ‘Christmas and my two favorite girls’. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself, but the text made you blush. You were so head over heels for him.

It was time for Christmas dinner. Liz and Andy had made most of it already but you were still helping around the kitchen. You loved cooking, so it felt natural. Luke, on the other hand, wasn’t that much of a cook, so he just stayed with his brothers in the living room. You were topping the trifles with raspberries and carried them to the dining room where all of the other servings were. You made your way to the kitchen to get a wine glass and realized Liz and Andy had disappeared somewhere from the kitchen. You took a deep breath and smiled to yourself. You hadn’t felt this kind of joy at Christmas ever before. Sure, last year was great, but this year was something else. It felt more meaningful.

Luke came to the kitchen and ‘helped’ you get the glass you wanted from the cabinet. 

“Gimme the glass, Luke! I mean it”, you frowned your eyebrows at him and giggled afterwards. The debatably 6’3 feet tall man in front of you was holding the glass you wanted to have above his head. Every day with him felt like an adventure. The small, ordinary, mundane things you did together were your favorite. How he’d make sure to poke fun of your height after dating for so long. How he’d make you feel so seen and appreciated. There was nothing not to love about Luke. At the end of the day, even his most irritating habits and traits seemed loveable to you. 

“Kiss me, then ya can have it”, he smirked. He was feisty, you liked that. Tip toeing to him, you placed your lips on his. “Mmmh, me likey”, he commented without even backing his lips away from yours. “Okay, you done now?”, your lips left his and you crossed your arms. He pouted his lips. “One more, please? For me?”.

You gave him yet another kiss, making it deeper than the previous one. You could taste the mint in your lips again. That was the thing about Luke: if his lips didn’t taste like coffee or almond, they tasted like mint.

“Since you’ve been such a good girl, I’ll give you this”, he smirked and gave you the glass he was holding. “Thanks a lot, really appreciate it”, you smirked back and as he turned away, you quickly hit his bum. 

“Hey!”, he gave you a look and you just showed your tongue to him, then turned to fill the glass with some red wine. You placed the glass on the kitchen counter and Luke wrapped his long arms around you. 

“You know how lucky I am that I can spend Christmas with you, baby?” his voice was hoarse. 

“Incredibly lucky. I am a national treasure, Lu”, you rolled your eyes and wrapped your arms around his waist. 

“But seriously…Y/N. Thanks for bein’ you. I love you and I hope there’s many more Christmases to spend together. Want to be the one you can share your Christmas kisses with”. You loved how cheesy Luke could get - it was no secret that he was a true romantic at heart. He was sappy, and you loved it. 

“There’s no one else I’d rather spend Christmas with, Lu. I love you. And I love being here. Thanks for always welcoming me here”.

“Of course, babe. My family practically fuckin’ worships you. It’s like I don’t even matter anymore. Everytime I come back, they just wanna talk about you. Can’t blame them though”.

You and Luke headed to the dining room and started to eat dinner with the entire family. When no one was looking, you gave Petunia a few snacks. What you didn’t know was that Luke saw it all, and he couldn’t help himself but smile gently at you two. He loved how you loved Petunia. Bella and Tilly, the Hemmings family dogs, were stealing some food from Andy and Liz too.

You had to go to the kitchen a few times, since you had to check on the turkey. It was cooked, but it had been on the fridge for a while, cooling off, since all of you didn’t want to eat hot turkey. Every time you went to the kitchen, Luke came with you and stole some extra kisses from you and vice versa. He loved to show affection towards you and he had to contain himself every time you were with other people. 

You ate together and then it was time to open up the presents. You were stirring things up this Christmas, since you were playing Secret Santa too. You were supposed to get Andy something and you got him a decorative photo album full of photos of the Hemmings family. Luke insisted on making the album too, so he was your little helper. The look on Andy’s face was pure - he was so happy. He really appreciated the gesture and took you in his arms, thanking you endlessly. You swapped up the rest of the presents and Luke had gotten you a beautiful golden bracelet from some European store, as he explained to you. You had gotten Luke an antique sweater he had been eyeing for such a long time. He admired it, but not nearly as much as he admired you. 

You were thankful that you and Luke promised each other not to get one another than just one present. After all, being with him was all you needed this Christmas. And this Christmas was even more than what you could have ever hoped for. The air was filled with laughter, the dogs were happily chewing their newly gotten toys and you had the man you loved by your side.

The night continued by playing board games and lastly, Charades. It was Luke’s turn to guess - the word ‘Jeggings’. You were giggling because Luke wasn’t that great at guessing the word.

“Stop laughing!” Luke commented. He tried so hard to keep his poker face but desperately failed, bursting out laughing.

“Luke, how could you be so clueless?”, you giggled.

“Am not clueless. I am just too smart for you guys”, Luke smiled.

“Sure”, Liz giggled along, making Andy, Jack and Ben laugh too.

Eventually, the game came to an end and you were sitting in the living room with Luke and his family. The TV was on and you were chatting about Christmas traditions, all of you slightly drunk from the red wine and beer you’ve been drinking. Luke and you were sitting on the separate sofa and you felt his hand on your thigh as you were chatting to Liz about something. Liz knew to turn away from the conversation and you saw Luke’s widened gaze and devilish smirk.

“Wanna show me how much of a good girl you’ve been this year when we get upstairs?”, he hummed quietly into your ear and slightly nibbed your earlobe.

You instantly smiled and prayed no one else saw that. You knew how this night was going to end and you couldn’t wait. “Wanna show you how much of a bad girl I’ve been, baby”, you whispered back. The look on his face was priceless, as if he hadn’t seen that comment coming. 

Luke took your hand on his, stood up and thanked for the night, saying that you two will head upstairs. You thanked Liz, Andy, Ben and Jack too smilingly. Luke led you upstairs and opened up the guest bedroom door. You closed the door and in no time, his arms were all over you. As were his needy, desperate lips.

All of a sudden, it felt like you had always loved Christmas.

© 12/2022 bloodhoundluke.