excellent companies

I open this tiny heart
one beat at a time
to her strawberry ties
to my strawberry lies
and lips do more than
dishonesty and honesty
if I could let you go
I would keep these feelings to myself
and we could just fade away
one beat at a time
like we used to be
when we stomped our feet
into downtown together
when there was no such thing
as bad weather, just excellent company
and she had the right idea
let’s fall into the seasons properly
while I open this tiny heart
and maybe I’m getting ahead of myself
maybe I’m carried away
we’re in too deep, maybe it’s just me
with my strawberry lies
still holding your lips together
shhh, it’s only a night
and things won’t be alright
but it’s still alright, right?
—  strawberry chapstick
Nothing Quite Like Filling One's Own Shoes

How dandy we are in our blissful ignorance
How relevant we are in our own little bubbles
I find it unpleasant and unconscionable
that you would want to alter these fine states
I think I am happy to be the kind of man
I’m content to be, instead of apologizing
constantly for not being the man you want
me to be, or, grander still, expect me to be.
Finally, I can put my feet up on the coffee table
read a book without a bumpy ride down guilt lane
the hours are mine and so is my mindspace
to craft without taking into account
everything else uncrafted and how crafty
these hands of time that swoop me up
in a slow flurry of flaky apparitions
the idiosyncratic idea that there exists
an idyllic ambience better than the most
satisfying act of inhaling deeply, exhaling softly
and gliding sentiently through the vast unburdened skies.

2

“Creative, resourceful, and intellectually quick. Good at a broad range of things. Enjoy debating issues, and may be into “one-up-manship”. They get very excited about new ideas and projects but may neglect the more routine aspects of life. Generally outspoken and assertive. They enjoy people and are stimulating company. Excellent ability to understand concepts and apply logic to find solutions.”

Never Again

A/N: I was randomly inspired by this awesome song when it came on shuffle in the car. Enjoy Queens ♥

TW: Domestic violence.

Standing in front of the mirror by the door, Spencer glanced once more at his hair, tucking a rebellious few strands behind his ear. He’d looked forward to dinner at Rossi’s again, being in good company with excellent wine and food. Once satisfied that his appearance was suitable for the evening, he reached for the door handle, pulling it open and stepping through it in a single motion. With so much distraction, the young doctor nearly walked right into you as you turned the corner at the top of the stairs.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he pleaded, glancing from you to the small boy holding your hand. “Hey, kiddo!”

“Hi Spencer,” your son replied, half hiding his face in his coat.

“It’s ok,” you chuckled, knowing you were just as much at fault for trying to hurry home. “Off out somewhere nice? You’re looking smart.”

“Oh, just dinner at a colleague’s house,” he replied with his sweet smile. “He’s kind of well off so I always feel a little underdressed.”

“Well, you look just fine to me.”

The words had barely left your lips when a bad feeling swept over you, followed immediately by the sound of the lock clicking on your front door; just a little way down the hall. Three sets of eyes looked up to the door as he stumbled outward, fists clenched and rage in his eyes.

“Y/N,” he slurred. “Get your ass in here…” Such a charming man that your husband had become.

“I’m coming,” you replied sweetly, turning to Spencer one last time. “Enjoy your meal.”

Spencer stood watching as both mother and son scurried forward as quickly as they could, till the door slammed shut behind them. The husbands low and angry voice could be heard, raised enough to seep venomously through the walls but never enough to understand.

He’s drunk again, it’s time to fight
She must have done something wrong tonight
The living room becomes a boxing ring
It’s time to run when you see him clenching his hands
She’s just a woman, never again

The clock pinged, jolting Spencer to reality. A hardbacked book slid from his chest and thudded against the rug at his feet. He blinked, trying to bring the room into focus as quickly as he could. Just how late was it?

Then came another dull thud, causing the now alert agent to look around himself, thinking something else had fallen nearby. But there was nothing, just the book that had already fallen. As Spencer leant forward, reaching downward for the book, there was another noise. This time a series of thuds in rapid succession.

Something wasn’t right, a feeling deep in his stomach that he tended to follow in times of uncertainty. Out in the hallway came a muffled voice of a man shouting, followed by a woman’s scream and another, even louder thud.

Leaping to his feet, Spencer darted for the door with little regard for his own safety. The door flew open and the light of his apartment flooded the small space before him. As he craned his neck around the door, he could see you, curled against the wall by your door. The sound of whimpering prompted him to open his mouth but you didn’t want to hear it.

“Sp…sp…encer…g…g…go back to… to bed,” you cried, shielding your face from his sight but Spencer continued forward. He couldn’t see you, not like this. Not while your son was still in there with… him.

Before the young man before you could reach out to help, you raised up, yanked open the door and returned to whatever hell might await you. Spencer was left in the darkness of the hall, his lips parted in shock. What had he just witnessed?

I hear her scream from down the hall
Amazing she can even talk at all
She cries to me go back to bed
I’m terrified that she’ll wind up dead in his hands
She’s just a woman, never again

“I’m telling you, there’s something going on and I can’t just stand there and let it happen,” he said, lifting the coffee to his lips. JJ shifted uneasily as they walked through the brightly lit corridor. The case they were helping with had ended abruptly with a shooting and both unsub and victim were receiving treatment in the local hospital. “But I’ve not actually seen anything, so…”

“Be careful, Spence,” she advised, looking at him sympathetically. “If you’re wrong then it could be very damaging to accuse something like that… and if he is violent, then you could make things worse in the meantime.”

“I know but…” Spencer started but almost choked up. “I’ve seen things like this end so badly before, but we usually only see the aftermath… seeing it happening and being powerless to do anything without evidence…”

“If she needs help, does she know she can come to you?” asked JJ, to which Spencer nodded.

Been there before but not like this
Seen it before but not like this
Never before have I ever seen it this bad
She’s just a woman, never again

The pair rounded the corner but Spencer grabbed JJ by the shoulder and dragged her back. The look of surprise on her face was accompanied by the urge to shout at him but the look of horror on his was enough to silence her.

“Spence?” she asked.

“He’s there, around the corner,” he explained, leaning his head around to see.

“In the waiting room?” asked JJ.

“Yeah.”

“Ok, I have an idea,” replied JJ after a moment of thought. “I want you to find out if Y/N is here while I distract him.”

“But…”

“No buts, Spence, just go.” With that, JJ rounded the corner and headed straight for him.

Looking back, Spencer saw the nurse’s station, attended by two young women in scrubs. If there was a record of Y/N’s room number, it’d be there. With a deep swallow, he built up the courage to move over to one of the young women.

“Excuse me,” he said faintly before clearing his throat of nerves. “Hi, my name is Dr Reid and I’m with the FBI… I wondered if you could tell me which room Y/N is in.”

Two sets of eyes flicked from his face to his FBI vest and then to the badge that Spencer had pulled from his pocket, verifying he was who he said he was. Once it was confirmed, the pair looked to each other and then back to him.

“Has she told the truth?” asked one of them.

“The truth?” asked Spencer in reply.

The door creaked open, causing you to look up in fear and embarrassment but Spencer was the last person you expected to see staring back at you. Instinctively you tried to hide your face but it was too late, he’d already seen it. The painful swelling on the side of your face was too obvious to hide in the harsh light of day anyway. As he stepped further into the room, the small young woman who’d been treating you followed.

“It’s not what it looks like,” you said, trying to defend something you knew was wrong.

“And what does it look like?” he asked, his hand moving to grip the strap of his satchel.

“I… I slipped in the bathroom last night…” you answer, looking away from him.

“Y/N, if there’s anything…”

“There isn’t anything to tell, Spencer.”

He was about to argue when another face rounded the door. The face that had been sat out in the waiting room for what had been hours. As your husband looked around the room, his expression changed from fake concern to anger.

“Can we help you?” he asked Spencer, who suddenly felt a rush of courage in the face of danger; like he’d been given determination by his own anger.

“Not at all, I was here anyway and I saw Y/N coming back from an exam,” he said calmly. “Slipping in the bathroom can be quite dangerous.”

“I warned her… she’s clumsy,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “Will this take much longer?”

The nurse was about to answer but Spencer was too determined to get Y/N away from him. He had to get him to leave and he took his chance.

“If you need to be somewhere, I can give Y/N a ride home,” he smiled, tucking his lips inward to try and hide how fake it was. “We can pick up your boy on the way too, I guess.”

The offer took Y/N’s husband by surprise, not knowing just how to take it but deep down he thought she was wasting his time here anyway.

“Yeah,” was all he managed as he slipped back from view.

Just tell the nurse you slipped and fell
It starts to sting as it starts to swell
She looks at you, she wants the truth
It’s right out there in the waiting room with those hands
Lookin’ just as sweet as he can, never again

As the lock clicked and the latch flicked across, the door creaked open. A single hand moved inside to flick on the light before the rest of you stepped across the threshold. Behind you, Spencer stepped inside, looking around himself having never actually seen the inside of another apartment within his building.

As you placed your keys down on the kitchen counter, your free hand flicked the switch on the kettle. Being kind enough to drive you home, let alone pick up your son on the way, was deserving of a cup of coffee at the very least.

“Go on,” you said softly, looking at the little boy who was hovering at the FBI agent’s legs. “Shoes, coat then room.”

“Aww,” came the defeated response as the young boy trudged away.

“You don’t have to…” started Spencer but you held up a hand to wave off his objections; so he changed the subject. “Wanna tell me what really happened?”

You paused, the image of the fist flashing in your head causing you to shudder and move a hand to the swelling on your cheek. If you told him, could he get you both away? Could he really protect you both or would it destroy the life of an innocent child?

“I…” was all that came before the sound of a door opening stopped you in your tracks.

“Took you long enough,” came a slurred voice from behind Spencer. The young doctor turned quickly to see your husband standing in the open doorway. “Think about running away with him, did you? Think you could take my son with you?”

The drunk staggered forward, causing Spencer to take steps backwards toward you. Both of his fists were clenched and his eyes look right through Spencer as if they were burning a hole to see you. The standoff was silent but terrifying.

“No one’s doing anything,” said Spence. “I brought your wife and son home, just like I offered.”

“What do you want? A medal?” he asked. “Mr. FBI”

“It’s Doctor and you’re drunk,” said Spencer sternly which was met with a feigned impression.

“Whatever,” he spat. “You can go now. I need to talk to my wife… alone.”

“Y/N, do you want me to go?” asked Spencer. Panic set in. If you said yes then it would enrage your husband but if you said no, there was no telling what he could do without witnesses. At that moment, your little boy, the one thing that actually mattered to you now, came running from his room to stand in front of the FBI agent.

“Spencer, Spencer,” he shouted in excitement. “Show me the trick again!”

Your heart sank as you realised that this small, precious thing was now standing between danger and its target. In his innocence that little boy understood nothing of what went on but would most likely suffer the most from it. The mass of so-called manhood strode forward, pushing the child with a single hand to the face and sending him crashing to the floor. Spencer knew all he needed to know now.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to remain calm,” said Spencer, his hand hovering at his side, just above the revolver.

“Or what?” demanded your husband. “You gonna shoot me in front of my son? Gonna let him watch his father bleed?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t call you that,” said Spencer, a dark tone in his voice. “You don’t have the right to be called that. Not anymore.”

Father’s a name you haven’t earned yet
You’re just a child with a temper
Haven’t you heard don’t hit a lady
Kickin’ your ass would be a pleasure

The crying child, the raised voices, the pain, the threats, the anger, the violence, the memories. All of it swam around and around in your head till you felt sick. Sick of what you’d become. Sick of what he’d made you. Sick that you’d allowed it to happen for so long and felt trapped.

Before anyone could react, you had decided it wasn’t going to go that way ever again. Your hand moved quickly, with no attention on you as you pulled it from its holster. No one was able to stop you because no one had seen it coming. Your other and came to grip the butt as your arms raised. Your finger rested gently on the trigger and with one look straight down the iron sight you squeezed.

The flash was blinding. The explosion was deafening. The smell was choking. But the feeling was relief. Everything moved in slow motion. Spencer curling away and ducking. The expressionless face of your husband, calm for the first time in years as he dropped to his knees. Even your son had stopped crying in shock of the sound.

You released the breath that you’d been holding in for what seemed like hours. With the man you’d once loved laying face down on the carpet, you could finally lower your arms without fear of something striking your face. A smile crept across your lips and the revolver hit the floor hard.

Silence at last.
He’s drunk again, it’s time to fight
Same old shit, just on a different night
She grabs the gun, she’s had enough
Tonight she’ll find out how fuckin’ tough is this man
Pulls the trigger fast as she can, never again

Spencer picked up the gun, his eyes flicking from you to the man on the floor as he tried to piece together what had and what was about to happen. The first sound that actually broke through to you was the thudding of a young boy, no longer in danger but desperate to cling to his mother. With your arms wrapped tightly around him, you burst into tears.

“It’s ok, baby… it’s ok,” you whispered softly. “Never again.”

The young agent moved over to the man who lay face down, his fingers pressed to his neck for a moment before shaking his head. What would usually cause grief or anguish suddenly caused hope and relief. Pulling his phone from his pocket, Spencer stood up, moving over to the counter. With the phone pressed to his ear, Spencer pulled off a square of kitchen towel from a dispenser and moved further along the counter.

“Hi, JJ,” he said when the person on the other end finally picked up. “I’m gonna need you to come to the apartment opposite mine…” He opened up the square of kitchen towel and wrapped it around the handle of a knife in the block. “Yeah… ambulance and local PD…” As he pulled the knife free from the block he moved back over to the body on the floor. “We got back and he was already here, drunk… he had a knife…” Spencer knelt, pushing the knife into the dead man’s hand before standing and kicking it away. “Yeah… I warned him but he pushed the boy aside and came at us anyway…. Ok, thanks.”

There was nothing of what had happened that you’d been aware of since your son was in your arms, crying. All you could do was whisper the same thing over and over.

“Never again. Never again.”

7

Made it to JFK airport! Tiny Branch was excellent, if grumpy company, he didn’t like being so far off the ground.

We did get a bit lost navigating the terminals, but eventually found ours, checked in, made it back through security, and now we’re charging the phone and catching Spearow at the only accessible pokestop in the terminal.

Next stop: Dublin!

The Firebird - Chapter 23


Step 23 : Dance (Santiago’s Dream)

My deepest thanks to @xerxia31, @titaniasfics and dandelion-sunset for their expertise in grammar, spelling, commas and everything that needed to be corrected … and there was a lot. Ask xerxia about my meltdowns …

To @akai-echo  – thank you my friend for everything you’ve done for this fic – the banners and aesthetics are beyond gorgeous.



Only one chapter left, folk – and a epilogue – should  I post them separately ?


Here on AO3 - FFN


It was easier now to start her day. The burden of the show was gone, the pressure off her shoulders. The company got excellent reviews, praising Cinna’s creativity in terms of costumes, as well as the ensemble performance of the dancers. Katniss herself even got some very good ones pointing out how her performance made the Firebird believable.

But all those good words were nothing compared to how proud Peeta was of her, staying by her side the whole evening long, ending up at Chez Valerie with all of the other dancers, like in the good old days, but always keeping his focus on her, never on his aborted ballet career.

There was a hilarious moment when Finnick called, after his own day of rehearsals, to congratulate her on her hard work. Apparently, Peeta had sent him pictures.
For the first time in a long time, Katniss felt free, happy and light. She knew the big show of the season was coming up, and she hoped she would have a role to play in it - one of the fairies, maybe, whichever would be a fit for her. But the nominations wouldn’t come for quite some time, and she didn’t want to think about it yet.

Keep reading

David ‘Common as Muck’ Tennant

Tired and therefore rather inarticulate but this evening’s talk with Gillian and Jennifer was a joy to attend. The moderator was excellent, questions thoughtful and Gillian and Jennifer stayed after the talk and signed for every single person who queued to meet them (until gone 11pm). I am so thankful. Excellent company too. You guys know who you are.

anonymous asked:

Hi sam I wanna start watching wrestling outside of wwe but i dont know where to start?? Like with roh, njpw, progress, etc. should i start from the begining? Just pick up and learn along the way?? What do you recommend? Btw your blog has made me fall in love with tumblr again and got me so much more interested in wrestling! Youre absolutely amazing

oh my heart

um. don’t try to start “from the beginning”. that’s thousands and thousands of hours of wrestling to watch. 

Um, so a lot of the companies do little recaps of big storylines during PPVs or big events. in addition, the commentary teams for a lot of the companies are EXCELLENT and will give you history upon history for each match and wrestler. 

i honestly recommend starting with PWG 2014 Battle of Los Angeles and working through the various PWG shows. It will familiarize you with a looooottt of the bigger names on the indies. 

from there, i recommend starting in April of 2016 in ROH, that way you get the evolution of Bullet Club in ROH. Simultaneously, start with Wrestle Kingdom 10 for NJPW.

I’m personally just starting Progress (as is illustrated by my sometimes shrieking posts about what I’m watching), I started at Chapter 35, and I don’t feel like I’m out of the loop. There’s little references here and there that I don’t get, but I will figure them out later on.

from there, you can splinter into Evolve, WCPW, revPro, Chikara, and the smaller promotions.

if death matches are your thing, there’s CZW. (its not my thing because gore is hard for me.)

there’s so much amazing talent and quality shit out there now that you’ll notice after watching a full WrestleKingdom or a full BOLA weekend, that its harder to watch a full two hours of SD or RAW because of the crazy difference in the products.

and yes, that was all tea and all shade.

happy watching!

Sherlolly Halloweek: Day Two
  • : : AND THEN THERE WERE NONE PART ONE
  • *a haunted house*
  • Molly: *looking around nervously
  • Sherlock: *examining paintings; smirking* Fascinating.
  • Molly: *moves closer* What?
  • Sherlock: *gestures* A panel behind the eyes. I thought they only did that in movies.
  • Molly: *hurriedly* Yeah, does it mean anything?
  • Sherlock: *shrugs* Perhaps.
  • Molly: *exasperated* Why did I agree to this?
  • Sherlock: *feels along the frame* Because you love a challenge.
  • Molly: *folds her arms* An And Then There Were None themed dinner? Against our friends? I like a challenge not Mission Impossible.
  • Sherlock: *amused* What makes you say that?
  • Molly: *blushes* Well, you know...I'm sorry you got landed with me *smiles nervously*
  • Sherlock: *smiles at her* You're excellent company, Molly *goes back to checking out the wall* and we're going to win.
  • Molly: Oh?
  • Sherlock: *nods* Our host stupidly paired John and Mary together. First night away from the baby? They're not going to be interested in a fake murder mystery.
  • Molly: *chuckles* I suppose not.
  • Sherlock: *still looking* Graham and Mycroft started in the kitchen. No chance of them winning. Irene and Anthea are our biggest competition. Ah-ha! *pushes the painting upswards*
  • -a trapdoor opens beneath their feet and they fall into a dark cell-
  • Sherlock: *rubbing his head* Are you okay?
  • Molly: *groans* Yeah. It's okay I landed on something soft.
  • Sherlock: *pained* Yes. would you mind-
  • Molly: *hastily stands up* Oh, God, sorry *looks uo at the trapdoor; sighs* Nice one, genius.
  • Sherlock: *mutters* I didn't see you do any better.
Consider: Christopher & Janet Chant, cricket dorks

I LOVE Christopher being a total dork about cricket when he’s a kid, and you will never convince me that he outgrew it. But Millie didn’t care and I’m sure Roger & Julia were like “daddy this is SO BORING” to his great disappointment, so he dragged Conrad (who also didn’t care but was a pushover) to matches and it just wasn’t the same as having a REAL fan along. (Mordecai was excellent company but he was busy  with Gabriel half the time, and besides he and Rosalie usually went together because Rosalie was also a huge dork about cricket, and they’d dork out together and Christopher would always end up being the third wheel, not that he would ever admit that)

BUT THEN JANET COMES ALONG

And Janet mentions one day that back in her world her dad used to watch cricket on the telly, and Christopher is like WAIT. YOU KNOW CRICKET? (but obviously much more posh about it) And Janet starts talking about her favourite players and how she had a poster in her room but she never got the chance to play and now she’s in a world with no telly so there’s no cricket to watch anymore. And she gets kind of sad about it because she probably didn’t realize until she mentioned it, it snuck up on her like all those little things she misses from her world, that she doesn’t know she misses until they come up in day to day life and suddenly they’re just not there. Christopher will always feel guilty about taking her away from her world, and he sees her remember these things and it just makes him feel a thousand times guiltier.

BUT CRICKET. Cricket he can fix!! You never learned to play?? What a travesty! And thus starts Janet’s cricket lessons, and he takes her to the local pitch where the villages compete in a little tournament, and sometimes Mordecai and Rosalie come along and Rosalie points out all the mistakes these amateurs are making and Janet is delighted to learn that Miss Rosalie used to whoop every villager in the area when the castle team played. And Janet shows she’s a pretty darn fine bowler, and she starts playing in the local matches, and then Christopher gets to insist on the whole family going to matches because we have to support Janet, really, she’s awfully nice about all of your interests including your godawful charming horse Cat. And so Christopher finally gets his kids to cricket, even if only ¼ of them are interested, and sometimes even Millie comes, although she always brings a book because really Christopher cricket takes far too long.

And when Janet’s an adult and a doctor she has to fight her way on to the university cricket team because “girls can’t play” but oops she’s 10x better than any other bowler they have. Once she’s out of school she pulls together an all-ladies cricket team, made up of professional ladies who managed to become lawyers and politicians and professors despite the old boys’ network, and still like to crack a cricket ball on the weekend (it’s not easy and she has to force Julia to join because they can’t get quite enough people, and Julia sucks but she sticks it out because Janet). And they play in a local league and they lose a lot, but they win some and no one can say they’re terrible. And people laugh and jeer and some idiots even protest, but the jeering reporters change their tune when Chrestomanci himself shows up to as many matches as possible, and when he can’t make it Lady Chant is there because Millie doesn’t give a damn about cricket but no one is going to protest her Janet over some outdated ideals (the protesters always go quiet when Millie is there because she gives them a look that could melt glass).

When Janet visits the castle, Christopher argues strategy with her over dinner, and did you see the latest match, England was such a disgrace, and everyone else rolls their eyes but it doesn’t matter because Christopher finally has someone to dork out about cricket with. And Janet, who grew up without her mom and dad but with Millie keeping their library stocked and teaching her how to drive and Christopher congratulating her on making the rest of the villagers look totally incompetent with her bowling skills, has found her place in this world.

Another cover art completed for Shurk of their upcoming new album!

As before this one was a huge pleasure to work with given enough room for my own ideas and with the given concept new areas to discover and learn from!

Thanks for all who came by when streamed it, as always you were excellent company! :>

Hasani Olujimi, MSW  and Jim Harvey, MPH, MSHA were married on May 23, 2014.  Hasani is a Navy Veteran, Retired Social Worker, and current actor in musical theater. Jim is a Retired Public Health Professional and an Organizational Development Consultant. They reside in Albuquerque, New Mexico (but they call Washington, DC home). They will celebrate 17 years of commitment to each other on February 19, 2017.

They met during an organizing conference for the National Association of Black Lesbians and Gay Men in Chicago which convened at the Westin Hotel located in downtown Chicago.  It was Jim’s 54th birthday and he asked Hasani to be his dinner guest at a party held in his honor.  Hasani, age 29 at the time, was reluctant at first.  However, his colleagues assured him that he was in excellent company. They have been together ever since that very cold February day. They recently celebrated their 16th anniversary and 2nd year of marriage, which they have named “16 & 2.”   They are looking forward to “17 & 3” and beyond.

Swerv Magazine