#//and my warranty goes out..tomorrow | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

letthylightshine · 1 year ago

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What has my day been like?

Good Afternoon, friends! I am going to let you all know what my day has been like. First of all, my sleep was sweet but my schedule was completely off. The weather has been affecting my sinuses so bad. My nose has been running and stopped up for almost a week now. Its contradicting because the weather in the past two days have been in the 60's. Why is it so cold in my house? I have been making arrangements to keep it warm. I've got my spaceheater going in addition to the AC Heat.

So, I am a FT Wife to Carlos Ramirez. My days consist of cooking for him and I, cleaning the house, organizing anything I can get my hands on, sleeping & napping, studying Spanish, reading my bible, praying, personal hygiene, and now blogging and social media. All these things together are like a Full-Time job. And now I am looking for a job because I am desiring an increase in my living standards. Hopefully, I can get a job that is for me and I will be able to simplify some things for Carlos and I. Carlos and I are both independent people. If we can do it ourselves, we will do it. And that even narrows it down to fixing our own vehicles because Carlos is Mechanic.

However, in the past few years I have been quite fascinated by the: "Hi, we are calling you about your cars extended auto warranty!" phone calls because who would have know that car warranties came with such convenience. I'll have to tell you all about it later. Let's get into my day!

"You may not believe, but you will see my power." - Jesus

This morning, my day began at about 7:00AM. I woke up to achy, stuffy nose because of the sudden weather change within the past two weeks. Fall seems to be transitioning out and Winter is transitioning in. In my most recent 5 years, I decided: "I like winter because its not so bad on the body. Plus, I can dress cute with my winter clothes - layers, scarves, boots, flannel button downs." Do you get the jist ?" I am going to have to see how this winter is going to be. As I stated, the past two days have been in the mid-60's, which is good, but its still quite cold for me. My husband, Carlos, is from Mexico. He's told me how, in Mexico, they don't experience a Winter Season. Atleast, not where he lives in VeraCruz. I'd much rather live in Veracruz at this point, but he's enjoying the stability he's gained in Estabas Unidos. So, I don't rush it but I have said: "I'd like me a Mexico Original home in the suburbs of Mexico or atleast on some nice land." With the curvy brick- style shingles. Yes!

Carlos is funny and he loves to tell jokes here and there but last night got me! He said, "You're working on the roof with me tomorrow?" Half serious/Half joking I said, "Yes!" very seriously. Meanwhile, I said: "Yes!" at maybe 8pm in the night. I have not really been out of the house, especially in the morning time, in a long while. Plus, its "cold outside." I believe I answered too soon. I woke up about 7AM and I was like : "Yes! New day. (I was sleeping on the love seat in our bedroom. I had fell asleep there after my shower.) Now, it's time to get in bed and have the real sleep." Moments later, Carlos' alarm goes off at 7:30 AM.

He's like: "Mi Reyna, despierta! Wake up! We are working on the roof this morning! Let's get ready!" I am like: "Oh no, I was just playing when I said yes." So, I layed back down. Carlos began getting ready. Friends, my nose was stopped up, sinuses congested, throat mildly sore - Can we say it may have been the end of the world considering the circumstances! Carlos has to basically peel me out of the bed like you use a spatula to scramble eggs when you forgot to put a little oil or butter on the skillet! Mama wasn't ready!

So, I got up! I was upset! But, I got up, brushed my teeth, put on clothes, and we were out the door. We had to go to Collierville for his work today! Carlos work sites vary from Arlington, Cordova, maybe Memphis, Millington, Covington, or Southaven - all in Memphis and surrounding areas. Today we went to Collierville. These houses are nice and beautiful too. They are brand new houses - some are for sale and others are still new construction or under construction.

This Morning began to be a beautiful day after I finally got up! We drove towards Collierville and I started having faint memories of my days when I used to be in Collierville and East Memphis with my friends. It was sweet memories and maybe I also teared up but it was nothing compared to the NOW. We stopped at the corner store for gas. Carlos offered to purchase me something from the store. Carlos is so kind, caring, and nurturing. He's awesome. I love him! I ordered me a Sausage, Egg, and Cheese Biscuit with a V8 Vegetable Drink. Talk about good! It was delicious! The biscuit was perfectly soft, flaky, and mouthwatering. I tore that biscuit up! Carlos got more coffee, LOL. He'd just had coffee at home, but I guess, "When you gotta go, ya gotta go!"

We arrived at his worksite. I began to become a little nervous because I had not worked with Carlos in a while. Especially moving those heavy shingles, as he asks me to assist him with. And thats exactky what he needed me to do. I have been meditating on the verse that says: "Do not be greedy for money and appreciate what you have." I have been appreciating God blessing me to be a Stay-At-Home wife. So, Carlos asking or making me come to work with him this morning really put me a little on edge and out of my normal routine. I said NO to helping with the shingles today. It's as though the Holy Spirit said, "Carlos should have called his boss and requested emergency back-up since he was the only person working. I did not sign you up for this and you're allowed to say no." So, I said no. I felt a little bad for my honey but alls fair in love! He accepted my NO and got to work. So, I decided to pray for us so that we can have a good day with our great expectation. After praying, the Sun came out and I swore I could see the Father's face. It was well with my soul.

Then, I'd remembered that I'd been having knee pains. The neighborhood was a pretty good size to walk around, even offering a walking trail. Do you know what I did? Got to walking!

Listen to a favorite of mine:

youtube

Yes, you all - I began walking this really bad knee pain off. I did not understand where it came from but I did realize I have not been exercising as much since it got colder outside. This was perfect timing to begin building my motivation to walk in my own neighborhood. As I began to walk, the pain slowly but surely began to go away. I am going to keep on walking until the pain is no more. I am going to have to manage it throughout the winter. I have to get back motivated to exercise all together.

Once I had enough walking, I rested in our van, took a nap, and woke up to Carlos asking for more assistance with those heavy shingles. This time, I said: "Yes, my love!" You all, I could only do so much. Then, it began sprinkling! "Yes!" I shouted in my mind because I did not need Carlos to get frustrated thinking that I did not want to help. Neither did I want the Lord to think the same. So, I prayed like Elijah that it would not rain, LOL. My prayer was: "Lord, please don't let it rain today. And don't let it rain for 3 years. And keep hydrating the Earth and its inhabitants. Amen." I had to show that my faith is strong and unfaltering. Then, it began to rain harder! Ha, sometimes you gotta be happy and joyful even when you don't get what you've asked for. Its possible with gratitude!

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I'd like to share the story of Elijah and the Prayer Of Rain:

Elijah was a man with a nature like ours, and he prayed fervently that it might not rain, and for three years and six months it did not rain on the earth. Then he prayed again, and heaven gave rain, and the earth bore its fruit (James 5:17-18).

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It began to rain even harder. I got so happy and I am sure Carlos did too because then we could go home and spend some quality time with one another, which is rare in the afternoon time of most days. Carlos usualy gets home after the sun has gone down. So, we packed up all the tools - nails, ladders, nail guns, and more. Then, we headed home. Our day was adventurous because we received what we did not expect - but the flowers need the rain, so it was good. And we need the rain to replenish the harvest. Take a good look at the fields, the harvest is ready!

We got home, cooked dinner, and I am now relaxing and concluding my day! It was short but sweet. Carlos is outside looking at my vehicle. Its been a tiring day so relaxation is needed.

Thank you very much for reading! Until next time....<3

#bible verses #jesus #jesus christ #jesus is coming #jesus of nazareth #Youtube

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returntobeaconhills · 3 years ago

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One Missed Call

Derek’s in the shower when he misses the call. It’s rare that his phone actually rings, and it’s usually a telemarketer or the end of the world on the other end so it’s a pretty unpleasant experience either way.

He jumps out of the shower, shampoo still in his hair, and hurries to grab his cell off his nightstand, but it’s already finished ringing by the time he grabs it.

It’s an unknown number so Derek assumes it’s a scam warning him his car warranty is expiring. He waits to see if it calls back, but it doesn’t so he gets back in the shower.

It’s only when he’s ready to get into bed that he realizes there’s a four minute voicemail message on his phone. It feels too long to be a telemarketer so letting curiosity get the best of him, he hits play. Despite the number being unknown, he recognizes the voice immediately, even if it’s slurred by far too much alcohol.

“Yoooooooooo. Yo, Derek. It’s me. You know who me is, right? I dropped my phone in the toilet at this party, so my roommate is letting me borrow his. He’s a cool dude. Not like, you cool, no one else is that cool. Like, leather jackets should be banned for everyone else in the world but you. You should have a monopoly on them. Is monopoly the right word?”

Derek rolls his eyes, but he can’t help the small smile on his lips at the sound of Stiles’s inebriated voice. There’s a muffled sea of voices far in the background, making it seem likely that Stiles had just shut himself in a bedroom or bathroom at a party to call Derek. He was drunk, and he called Derek. It takes a moment for him to process that.

Derek tries not to read too much into it. He could have called everyone else in the world, including Deaton and Chris Argent, before resorting to him.

“You’re probably busy, like, eating Bambi or practicing your scowl in the mirror – it’s a good thing you’re a werewolf and not a vampire – and that’s why you’re not answering. I get it,” Stiles continues on the voicemail. “Sometimes I’ll be in my criminal justice class and catch myself wondering what you’re doing. Is that weird? It might be weird.”

It might be weird but sometimes Derek catches himself doing the same thing.

“I just hope you aren’t bleeding out somewhere because that would make me sad. Really sad. Please don’t be dying.” Stiles’s voice chokes up, apparently having worked himself up at just the thought of Derek dying. That was certainly a change from when they had first met. Not that Derek blamed him. Derek had been…off-putting, to say the least, in the beginning.

Stiles starts rambling about his classes and missing Beacon Hills, something Stiles never thought he would say when he finally got away from the constant near death experiences.

Derek’s heart aches, and he realizes how much he has missed Stiles and the rest of the pack. Sure, Scott was still around, and Malia, but it wasn’t the same as the whole group. Lydia and Stiles had both went off to bigger, better things. Even Peter, pest that he was, had left to travel. But Derek couldn’t leave. Not again. This was Hale territory, and he had made a vow to himself that he wouldn’t run any longer. There should always be a Hale in Beacon Hills.

Derek is drawn out of his thoughts by a particularly loud yawn from Stiles in the voicemail. “Okay, I think I’m gonna head out now. Don’t worry, my roommate is our group designated driver, and I’ll be safe.”

It goes quiet and Derek wonders for a moment if Stiles fell asleep/passed out right then and there, but then his voice returns, softer than before. “I wish you had answered. I had some things I wanted to say to you. Things I’m finally ready to say.” Stiles sighs. “I miss you, Der. I wish you were here. Especially to nurse me back to health tomorrow morning when I wake up with a massive hangover. I know you’d pretend to be all gruff about it, but I think you’d be secretly great at taking care of people. You’ve always taken care of us.”

The voicemail finally comes to an end.

Stiles is right. He wakes up with the worst hangover of his life, but it’s also the best day of his life when he opens his door to find Derek Hale, having driven all night, there with a greasy breakfast and big cup of coffee. He has very little recollection of what he said when he called Derek, but he owes a debt of gratitude to Jack Daniels.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #stiles x derek #sterek fanfiction #sterek fandom #teen wolf ficlet #ficlet

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unrelenting-jazz-hands · 4 years ago

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There's paperwork and everything, that's my weirdo.

They both think its a stupid idea at first. Big, fussy weddings are a waste of energy, time, and money. They don't need to make some big announcement about it, they already know they're committed to each other.

But then they realized they can put anything they want on the gift registry. There isn't a law that says it can only be shit from Bed, Bath & Beyond. It could be a new microscope, a year's worth of tea, or a non-flammable waffle iron.

Hange thinks of how it would be great time to make Levi dance and take cute pictures. Levi knows how happy a wedding would make his mom. He also sometimes thinks about how beautiful Hange would look with white flowers in her hair and how she would smile before he leans in to kiss her.

He kind of likes the idea of saying ‘that’s legally my weirdo.’

But they hum and hah over the idea, going back and forth between the pros and cons of the concept of marriage. Hange has made more than a few diagrams and slide shows. Levi nods during her presentations, taking notes. They both learn a lot about the history of the modern concept of marriage in their part of the world. Hange digs around to learn about marriage through the lenses of different fields. She likes to have the whole enchilada before making big decisions. As she puts it, you can't make sound decision before there's a whole lot of enchiladas cookin' in the kitchen.

There isn’t anything wrong with the idea of them getting married, but nothing ever gets decided.

Then one day, Levi is walking through downtown Sina, to pick something up for Kuchel, when he pauses at a window. There, on a plastic hand, is the first ring he has ever seen that might just be able to survive Hange. He goes inside and stands there, looking nervous and uncomfortable, until a sales assistant asks if he would like to look at something. He hopes he doesn't sound as unsure as he feels when he asks about the ring in the 3rd window.

The sales assistant nods and asks what he likes about it, he laughs and says it looks hard to break. She smiles and leads him to a table.

It's even prettier up close, he realizes, as he holds in between his fingers. Beautiful and sturdy, not unlike the person who's finger this ring would sit beautifully on.

Hange is messy, loud, and enthusiastic about everything; she can't enter a room without drawing attention or leave a room like she found it. But she is so kind, caring, and gentle (and patient, and funny, and brave, and brilliant). She sparkles all day and smolders during the night. He smiles to himself and imagines her waving happily at him with this ring on her finger.

xxx

He walks out of the store an hour or so later, hands a little clammy. Inside of his pocket there is a small maroon box and a stack of warranty papers. Inside the box there is a silver ring with small sparkling diamonds set flush into the band; nothing to get broken off or snagged on something. It has small indents along one side, where another ring will go, fitting together like a puzzle piece. They can choose the next band together and get a matching one for him. He stops mid-step in the middle of the street, looking more constipated than usual.

Fuck. He's going to ask Hange to marry him.

xxx

Hange looks beautiful that evening. Its a warm summer night and Levi had dinner ready for when she got home. Her favourite meal, drinks, and music were ready to go. He was wearing a nice pair of pants, and the third shirt of the day (he sweat through the other two). She gets home and he's at the door, drink in hand, to kiss her hello. She looks over his shoulder at the patio he spent hours setting up, her eyes widen and a small smile creeps onto her lips.

He's really sweating now.

He shoves the drink into her hand and directs her to the stairs, saying to go put something nice on. If he's going to do this whole thing than they better be able to get some good photos out of it.

He's pouring himself another pina colada (her favourite) when she walks into the kitchen. She's wearing one of her brightly-coloured jumpsuits that she breaks out every summer (this one is held up by straps that tie over her shoulders, and he's had a lot of fun untying them on various occasions).

Barefoot, hair down, and smiling brightly; she lights up even more when she sees the pina colada cups filled up to the brim (they bought them last summer and she insists it makes the drinks taste different).

xxx

Dinner went smoothly, he tells himself. She's chatting happily about work as they sit around the little patio table. Dinner was finished. Time for dessert. Shit. Shit, fucking shit.

He stands abruptly, which makes her pause and raise an eyebrow. He excuses himself, grumbling something about dessert, and rushes back to the kitchen.

Shit. Shit. Ok, its time. His hands are shaking as he takes the little box out of his pocket. He opens it one last time to check that the ring is still there, still in one piece, before placing it in the middle of a tray. It's surrounded with the assortment of pavlovas he spent a good portion of the afternoon baking (they're Hange's favourite). He carefully places a white bowl overtop of the box and then places another bowl, right-side up, on top. He fills it with blueberries, with a mint sprig on top. Beside it, a bowl of whipped cream and two spoons.

Alright. The plan:

1) Put the tray down.

2) When she goes to mix everything in one bowl (like she always does) ask her to pass you the other bowl.

3) She lifts up the bowl and then bam. There's the box.

4) You take the box, get down on one knee, and open the box.

5) "Will you marry me?"

He's run through this a hundred times. He can do it. This is going be fine. He looks outside at Hange, who is facing away from him, head tilted back to look at the sky. He gulps. Game time.

He walks outside, curses as he almost trips (his life flashes before his eyes), but makes it to the table in one piece.

He sets the tray down before taking a seat and proceeds to stare at his hands. She tilts her head to the side and asks if he's ok. You look unwell, are you feeling ok? What did you eat for lunch?

He waves his hand, stammers out an unconvincing excuse, and motions for her to help herself. Hange raises an eyebrow at him but then shrugs and turns her attention to the plate in front of her. She starts to mix everything and Levi's mind goes blank. He can hear her begin to chat in the background but he can't move his body.

He has found himself in some scary situations before, but this was the most terrified he's ever felt. He looks like it.

But before she has the time to ask if he's ok or reach over to place a gentle hand on his cheek, he blurts out that she's hogging the whipped cream and to pass him the bowl already.

No, not that bowl. The other bowl. No, the one under the blueberries.

She lifts the bowl, eyes glued to his face. She doesn't see it, she's still staring at him. His mouth is open, he's staring at her, and he feels like the world's stupidest piece of shit. He shuts his mouth, and clears his throat. She looks at him like he's losing it, and maybe he is.

Fuck. She's looking down now. She's looking down at the tray. Fuck she sees the box. Oh shit, she sees the box.

He stands up, almost tripping over his feet, and grabs the box a little more aggressively than he planned.

For a minute he's just standing there, holding the box. But then she looks at him with those damned brown eyes; they're wide and sparkling... but there is a hint of fear there too.

She looks nervous, he thinks to himself. She hasn't been practicing for this all week and she doesn't know what's going to happen. Neither of you know what's going to happen tomorrow, or in the next year, or in the next 50 years. But... facing the next 50 years with this brave, fierce, kind, loyal, clever, funny, beautiful person would be the best thing Levi could think of.

He feels himself relax and smile softly. He kisses her forehead before kneeling down. He wonders if she can hear his heart beating loudly, and she wonders if he can hear hers.

Now he's down on one knee. Levi looks up at the person he loves most, the person who makes the sun warm and the sky blue. This is the person that helps ground him when his brain gets stuck in a painful loop about some stain or imaginary dust, that tells him when he needs to apologize, laughs at his stupid jokes, lights up his life, and holds him tightly when he wakes up from a nightmare.

He wants to always help her do her laundry, remind her to eat and sleep when she gets too caught up in work, he wants to celebrate with her when she gets a grant or a tenure position at a university, to smile and tell her that her burnt cupcakes and muffins aren't that bad. He's lucky to have her and he'll never stop trying to be a man worthy of her.

They have the rest of their lives to be together; to laugh at stupid jokes, plant vegetables in their little garden, get stoned and eat everything in sight, go for long hikes in the woods, watch shitty horror movies, and hold each other close. There isn't anything in the world he wants than to hold her and kiss her and love her. Fuck, he even wants to dance with her.

He can't believe he hasn't done this sooner.

No, those are not tears in his eyes.

His eyes are locked on hers as he opens that stupid little box.

"Will you marry me?"

#levihan #levihan brainrot #levi x hange #fic #myposts #aot fic #i want them to be happy #Happy!Au

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brothertimothysblog · 3 years ago

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It’s best to read this My Cross From Your Laptop.

What I write goes directly under my first article. I pinned it at the top for the explanation of why I write this blog. I have added several awesome things to this blog. I have the news, weather, sports, different places of scriptures, ways of killing cancer, I have one section of 3500 sermons. Several cool Tik toks,

you Tubes, Various articles which I have written.

Some articles I could go back too and do an update but it may not be read. One of my first articles may never be read again simply because you must scroll to get down to it. If the giver isn’t blessed for the giving , then the question is why give?

Not long ago I wrote about taking a cold shower. As hot as it is those cold showers feels good. Recently our heater has gone out. In the article about the cold shower I wrote how the company that I had was going to charge me 350.00 to replace the water heater. I was told they wouldn’t pay for the charges of hauling off the old one.

The new company that I started with tells me that fixing an air-conditioner isn’t part of the deal.

I am chasing a rabbit but the way I feel now reminds me of a summer back in 66

I was in Mississippi county in Arkansas staying the night with my great grand parents. I believe the month was August. The house had one bed room a front room and a kitchen and a out house. They had a ceiling fan , a window fan, and a oscillating fan. Eight pm and 80 F.

I was on my great grandma’s lap watch a black and white T.V . The T.V picked up Memphis, Little Rock Jonesboro and St. Louis perhaps 6 channels.

That night we were watching the Dinah Shore show. Grandpa walked in from the kitchen into the living room with only his under ware . Grandma said to Grandpa. You best get some clothes on because Dinah Shore is looking right at you. Please keep in mind Grandpa was born in the last decade of the 1800′s and Grandma was born in

1906. For years all that they had was radio. Right now it is 82 feels like 92 and on me is a ceiling fan.

I do have a part time job. I get 280.00 a month. We have my wife’s social security disability check which is equivalent to wages in 1970.

Tomorrow the heat index will be over 100 Lois will stay home but I will go to church.

Folks I know that times are hard. It will be March of next year before I get my social security check. The last two years my wife has needed me to do about everything. I am not able to work a full time job. As I wrote in my first article she has supported the economy an average of 50k monthly the entire time we have been married the last 29 years. The last two years I have had to stay home. Through out this blog I have different ways that money or stocks can be obtained for free. When this happens I also get the money. I also have the post cards 14/ 7.77 each card has the url for this blog on it. Perhaps one day and I pray it will not be long I will discover a easier way to earn income. This blog will stay up. Everything will be the same. Now I am earning no income.

Helping me in the future when I may not need the help verses helping me now when I do need the help. My cashapp is $BrotherTimothyR My PayPal is

[email protected] or [email protected]

I may or may not keep the home warranty company for my appliances . I haven’t decided . If I don’t they will know why.

My circumstances with my wife and writing this blog with all of the awesome post that I have placed on this blog does have the potential of earning me a nice income provided that those who reads “My Cross” will activate faith and give with Love believing that God will bless and that with post cards going all over America bringing the lost to have the understanding of being born again.

Just consider my situation and know that we are told in scripture to do unto others as you would have others to do unto you.

Believe me even without much I do what I can to help those who are in need and it has been harder with the price of gas. If you want to help but you simply can not. Pray that God will open a door of opportunity for you to give to my ministry. The easiest way is have your church buy the post cards for 7.77 and have 14 members mail one off. If you just want to make a donation if 8 gives 1.00 then I will mail out 14 cards to a randomly selected church. I am a nobody trying to get everybody to tell somebody about this blog believing that those who has a desire to be blessed will contribute to this cause. This ministry will work on changing lives one post card at a time. Blessings can flow all over America The demons are working over time to keep everyone from taking action.

In Him

brother Timothy,

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namjoonchronicles · 4 years ago

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tumble | yg

↳ genre fluff, established relationship, slight smut at the end

↳ words 5k ↳ summary preparing for close friend’s wedding gifts is a given for young married couple. an unexpected encounter with an old flame led to an unwanted rekindled feelings but karma reminds you who your heart truly belongs to, because it’s all about the actions, not words. ↳ notes this i wrote during first week of university of my final year, trying to run away from responsibility. midway, my friend @hellotherehoneybee was having a difficult week at hers too, so i wrote this extra fluff for her, i hope she noticed. thank you for working so hard! (i wish someone would comment on the work i put on the banners of each of my stories, but nevermind) ↳ warning attempts of infidelity (not by you) ↳ song ‘happiness is a butterfly’ lana del rey

Nimble fingers punched the numbers on the passcode pad, just outside the door. Crumpled papers on the floor. Supreme skateboards stacked on the wall. Yoongi walked in, greeted by a line of guitars at the corner of his studio. His attention was on the phone, preferring to text over calling. His face was shone by the light from it. His feet kicked away the crumpled papers on the floor to get to his computer. There’s a frame of baby breath on his table next to his stationery. A picture of you next to his desktop. Bothered by the melody he endlessly replayed in his head, he plans to record the notes in digital form. He hasn’t decided which work of his he wanted them in, but any of it would be just fine. Today, he is expecting a guest that will contribute to the guide. Jimin springs in first, as usual.

“Why do you lock the door knowing that I’m coming?!” Jimin groaned outside the door. He is leaning against the frames, knocking repeatedly.

This is exactly why he had those locks put up. Several young producers lined up. Yoongi is teaching them how to make music. With a wry look and dry greetings, Yoongi invited them in and started the meeting. The project is rather simple. Yoongi has provided a raw sample to the aspiring producers who will try to make lyrics. These melodies are then sung by Jimin. Yoongi whipped out his sample from his computer and he will give exactly 30 minute for the producers to think of ways to make the music a song. The young producers wrote down notes given by Yoongi. They write and they erase. They wrote and erased. Write. Scratch. Write. Scratch.

Noticing this, Yoongi gave a soft smile. It reminded him of himself when he was just starting. The uncertainty, the overwhelming feeling of not knowing if the lyrics are good enough, or just plain dumb. As an underground rapper with social anxiety, he was afraid to be ridiculed the most, and he is pretty sure that these producers have the same fear. What he is about to say is nothing new. In fact, he advises it frequently in his lectures. Clearing his throat and with the aura of a seasoned lyricist, he said,

“Go with your gut feelings. Understand the feel of the sample and what you could derive from it. Let your mind run wild. First rule of writing music is that there are no rules.”

He emphasizes on creativity. Jimin was trying to write the lyrics too. He wanted to learn to write faster. “Jimin, your problem is that you’re a perfectionist…” Yoongi spat, “Your mind goes haywire at the possibility of writing everything, you have no clear direction. That’s why it’s so hard. You select a theme, and you stay on it…”

“But Namjoon…” Jimin began.

“Namjoon is a genius. His diction is out of this world, and he has been writing lyrics for years. Don’t compare yourself to him or rather, learn with him rather than coming to me, uninvited,” Yoongi swivels in his chair as the three other producers hang their head low.

Jimin puckered his lips and muttered curses under his breath.

Yoongi reaches for the journal he kept by the book rack. When he opened them, a warranty card fell out. He crouches down to get them. It was from the phone you bought. He caught you buying a phone on an online store when he returns to the studio, earnestly picking a good one. You even asked him about these specs and technology terms you don’t know about. Some of it was written down as notes in this journal along with his own scribbles of song lyrics. You wanted to buy a phone for your mom and pretend that it was from your dad. Your mom always complains that your dad never gave her gifts and is reluctant to spend money on her. Yoongi didn’t need the extra information but you gave it to him anyway. Yoongi learnt from you that your mother had been using the same phone for a decade, and nothing can be updated anymore. And because your father isn’t doing anything about it but think about himself, you decide to buy your mom a good new phone. Saving your father’s face by pretending it was him who bought it.

You didn’t know this but, Yoongi fell in love with you once more.

That phone comes with a warranty card that is now made its home in his old journal. You know he wouldn’t throw any of his journals away.

Glancing at the digital clock on his shelf, he wondered, just how his favorite person in the world is doing…

Yoongi entertained questions from his students. Explaining the build up, the body, climax and ending. Sharing what is fun and what is not, in writing music. What’s cliché and what’s attention grabbing. But his explanation was cut halfway when his phone vibrated, and swiped his thumb over the caller ID and answered with a small, “Hello?”

Jimin and the students studied his face. At first, Yoongi seemed pretty laxed, and then he stood up, abruptly. Instantly and visibly tensed.

“Where are you?” Pause, “Okay, stay right there, I’ll be right over…” He grabs his coat from the hanger and his tongue glides along his drying lips upon ending the seemingly urgent call. He appears distressed but it is masked by his calm exterior.

“Is something the matter, hyung?” Jimin asked. “I have to leave, I am sorry because I have to cut the classes short. Make sure you email me the verses by noon tomorrow. I will deduct marks for late submissions…” Yoongi said in one breath and yanked the door open, had them leave the studio at once and locked them.

Namjoon was standing outside the hall, watching Yoongi as he trudges through. The older one was putting on his jacket albeit roughly and as quickly as he could. Namjoon couldn’t even get a proper greeting in return. It seems Yoongi is troubled by something.

Troubled by something is indeed accurate.

A few hours ago.

You thought you made a great choice. It’s what you wanted when it was your wedding, and you’re sure that Jungkook would like it too. Knowing just how obsessed he is with having everything the same color code, the sapphire blue kohiki plates would have fit in right into his kitchen like it’s one of the built-in. Yoongi always thought that Jungkook’s gifts are the hardest to choose because he is picky, but also not very picky. He has specified interest but also not very specified. You know more than anything that Jungkook is neither of those things. Ever since you knew the boy, he had always been grateful for any gifts he was given. It didn’t matter how expensive or how rare, it’s the thought that counts. Many years ago, Jungkook came to your house, when you and Yoongi were still dating, and he frequently used the kohiki bowls you have. He said he liked it. That's how you came to decide that his wedding gift would be just that. For his wife, you don’t really know her well, but you had Yoongi book a Swarovski perfume after recognizing that she frequently carries the fun sized bottle around when she’s out.

“Would you like to also see the latest collection of our Kohiki plates, Mdm. Min?” the salesperson politely addresses you and you thought that simply looking wouldn’t hurt. You after all had time to kill today.

Your hands glide over the impressive finishing of the white kohiki plates, truly in awe of the time and the craftsmanship involved in making this. They came in many sizes and as you narrowed down to the end of the gallery, you recognized a collection so similar with the one at home. You turned to the salesperson with a beaming smile, almost child-like. The man bowed at you and explained to you how this particular collection was especially sought after and high in demand, they decided to keep it in collection. Yoongi’s personal family collection had been imitated countless times in the past centuries, they eventually trademarked the design to be named, Empire Min’s timeless collection. It had served countless royalties in the whole world and the tableware was of grand prestige. Sometimes, it dawns over you that you married quite an incredible man with a lineage of such esteem, comparable to those of aristocracy.

Min Yoongi’s family may have stranded far from the royals now, but the traces are there. His delectable face, porcelain skin and honey-succulent voice, are as good as a blue bloods’. His family registrar was kept in the national museum and you had a glimpse of it during Chuseok every year, where they pay homage to his ancestors and it’s quite unbelievable that something from centuries ago was still available today. You didn’t ask a lot about how his family branched off the King, but you do know that the surname Min belonged to four most important Queens in the Joseon dynasty. Is that where his beauty originates from?

You smiled to yourself as you saw his signature underneath the gallery as the last few descendants of the Queen.

“The gifts are wrapped up, we will have it shipped personally to Mr. Jeon Jungkook as per addressed…” the salesman ensured you with an assuring voice.

Kohiki plates aren’t cheap to say the least. But Min Yoongi doesn’t like you worrying about it. Much less, he’d rather have you spend his hard-earned money because he doesn’t always know what you like. One last thing, a visit to the gallery with your trustee art enthusiast, Kim Namjoon.

He stride over as he ended the call. He looks everly dashing in those turtlenecks and grey blazer. His pectorals and buff body looks great in it. He wore those glasses that made him look like he was a postdoctoral student. Only he isn’t. He shoves his phone into his breast-pocket and his face shifted from a serious one to a cheeky expression. He presented his arm for you to take and embraced in a small talk with you.

“You just ended your lecture?” you asked him. “It took a little longer than planned, sorry about that…” he chuckles, handsomely.

“This gallery better be lit…” “You won’t be sorry. I promise.”

Namjoon guides you into an exhibition, guarded by several men in black suits and ear-pieces. The whole way there, you realized that there was no one around. It is only given, because Namjoon owns it. It seems he had it shut down for the day, because the most important painting is arriving from Versailles, and he wants nobody to have a look on it. Except you, of course. And it’s easier to do painting shopping without people hustling in and out trying to catch a glimpse of the ‘Kim Namjoon’. Namjoon talked to you about the randomness of things as he introduces to you his favorite works. He was talking about his sudden trip to Paris and how he regrets it, then talking about a wrong purchase and the books he is currently reading. All in a quiet voice, the kind you give to your lovers.

But you know that’s just Namjoon being flirtatious like it’s his second name.

Suddenly, you stopped in your tracks. This section of the gallery feels like it’s cut off from the rest. It has been endless modern art since the entrance until a few paintings back. This one felt like it was Rome or the Renaissance. The sculptures and dramatic scenes, the skin tones and flesh, it was a whole other world. You turned to Namjoon, questioning him with your eyes. You know him well enough to know that he doesn’t like this type of art.

“I had a change of heart… while trying to understand yours,” he confessed. And it sounded strange because he let those words glide out as if he had no control over it. He stepped back, pressed his lips together for saying more than he thought necessary, dropped his shoulder and turned to the art he loved.

“I understand it now,” he added, speaking to the frames, “Why do you like them so much… There’s so many stories to tell from each of these characters…”

You remember explaining to him about eyes in realistic paintings. How you wonder what they’ve seen, and what they have experienced. These endless thoughts usually trouble Namjoon, up to when he was about to sleep. You look beyond the surface of this painting and put feelings in them. That’s when he realized that emotions can be painted. Namjoon owed it to you, to having understood himself. And as he explained just how your art classes changed his perspective in life, he introduced to you the painting he thinks fit Jungkook the most. When you saw this painting unveiled before your eyes, you couldn’t agree more. It would look best in his spacious living room. Namjoon watched you as you signed the insurance paper to deliver the artwork. Watching you from afar like this felt foreign. With the history you both had, who would have thought that he would spend his life dreading the future he could have had with you.

It is all too late now.

The ring around your finger isn’t his. Maybe it’s for the better. He couldn’t have cared for you better than Yoongi does.

The most difficult thing about this relationship is, getting stuck between caring too much, and not caring at all.

“So you’ll deliver them to Jungkook’s house soon?” your eyes darted up at him as he approached the table.

“Leave it to me…” he said with a broad smile and dire confidence from a seasoned seller. A billion dollar man like him, could get away with anything with that smile.

Namjoon hooks his finger around the flaps of the door handle of your car and watches you climb in. Winding the window down, he rests his elbows and fixes his eyes on you, a coy smile on his pretty lips. You darted at him a look. A look you’d give to your malice doing little brother to warn him.

“Go on dates, go meet people, Namjoon… How long will you live this way?” “How would you know I’m not meeting people?” “You stacked books in my online bookstore, and still use my Netflix account to watch movies…” “Books and movies are better companions.”

You looked at him through your lashes and in those particular moments of silence, glances were exchanged and feeling somehow attempted to rekindle, however, before it could, you looked away.

“I’m going to Yoongi’s office, I’ll tell him you said hi…” “But I didn’t…” “Goodbye, Namjoon.”

The white Mazda CX-3 glides away, seamlessly. Stopped at the junction, and entered the main road. All these while, Namjoon kept watching. And it seems like, all his life, he had been watching. Because that was all what he was courageous enough to do.

“‘She loved him too early, and he loved her too late…” Namjoon muttered to himself.

At the junctions, your car pulls to a stop as the traffic light turns red. The building you were in were kilometers away but the scent of Namjoon’s body lotion hasn’t left. You always refrain from reading too much anything Namjoon does because you’re not who you were anymore. Your loyalty is with Min Yoongi now and it should be. Rather than feeling like you used to feel for Namjoon, it actually narrows more to pity. Namjoon had it all. He had your endless support, you had been his emotional anchor, and he had taken you for granted for many years. Eventually, you pick up your worth and search within yourself what you’ve given him. What you found out when you peel yourself away from everything that is Namjoon, is the fact that he had given you nothing but his concerns. There was no give and take. All he does is take.

Finding yourself, led you to finding Yoongi.

Yoongi was nothing easy to have. So it daunts you that difficult men might have been your type. Yoongi is rash and dry on his best day and even more harsh and unapologetic than anyone you have ever met. It came to a point where you exploded, thinking that even as life swallowed you whole and his arms was the only thing that could save you, you’d rather be swallowed whole. When Yoongi heard such a damning insult to his being, he got even. As harsh as Yoongi appears to be, he was a softie right under the flesh. Under his blank expression and inattentive eyes, he is all soul and bones. The more you know him, the more you realize that you both are strikingly alike. From the way you solve problems to the way he speaks, you both are a lot more common than you are different.

He is so intelligent and witty and blunt. You can ask him about literally anything and he always has an opinion about it. Because of his wide arrays of interest, you can never run out of topics to talk about. He is a great fun, and always adventurous although he prefers to whine about it at first. He said he hates camping but when you forced him to come with you, he looked like he has been camping his whole life. Lit the bonfire within seconds, adapted the forest life and just casually calm. The kind of calmness you hadn’t felt in awhile, you felt in Yoongi’s presence. Camping nights are always so romantic with him playing the guitars and you requesting songs you know he doesn’t know. There will be crinkles around his eyes before he looks down, embarrassed for not knowing that song. Once you give him a listen, he could play by ear.

He is adorable when he is confused or terribly tired. One night, he asked if you would come over his studio’s rooftop to spend time together. He spoke two sentences and fell asleep while you were talking. He unknowingly leaned his head on your shoulder as he dozes off. You brushed his hair away and thumbed his cheeks. His lips pouting cutely as he slept. You sat awfully still for hours, hours that he is still paying off with himself. To this day. It is astonishing how he could look like the cutest little kitty and also looked like he could swallow you whole.

His dangly multi earrings, gorgeous eyes and veiny arms, his multifaceted talents are as endless as his sweet words. Yoongi could make you feel heard without you saying a word.

The pedal planted to the ground, screeching tires and loud crashes. The windows on the driver side shattered and the airbag deployed. Loud ringing in your head as you try to gather your thoughts. What’s happened? You drove ahead a little more, because if you didn’t the road would have been congested. You pressed the hazard light on and parked on the side of the road to avoid other cars.

Hooking your fingers around the car handle, the door was pushed open. The car that collided with you stopped behind you. Your Mazda could continue driving but you don’t want to risk it because the shell of the tire was a little dented. The sharp ends were grazing your tire if you continued. The driver whose car you collided with was eerily quiet but he kept staring at an interval. You gathered your purse and fished for your phone.

“Please don’t get mad…” you huffed, “I got into an accident…” The back of your wrist on your forehead as you looked around in worry.

“I am at a round-a-about pass on Samsung Building 77 street… I’ll send the location,” you breathed, oddly a little calmer than he expected you to be. It all happens too quickly. You weren’t sure who was in the wrong. The last thing you remember was using the signal stick to turn to the right and the car on the right wanted to head to the left, surreptitiously ignoring the signal you gave. It seemed ages for Yoongi to get there, but when he did, he parked a little further and got off the car, jogging to where you are. Your eyes stung and got watery as he came to get you. You were so grateful that he wasn’t angry and in fact, just wanted to know where you were so he could be where you are. He held onto your hand as he went to inspect the car and its damages.

“What are you going to do with my headlight?” the owner of the other car came over, uninvited. Yoongi instinctively pulls you behind him at the forwardness of this man.

“Take it easy, let’s check the dashcam to see who was actually in the wrong, let’s take this to the police station…”

“What police station, it is more than obvious that she was driving recklessly and not paying attention!” The man tried to go over Yoongi to get to you but Yoongi held his palm outward at this rude man.

“Like I said, we will take this to the police station and they’ll decide who is in the wrong and needs to pay for the damages…” Yoongi once again marched against this man and stared dead into his eyes while dialing on his phone. He placed his phone on his ear and continued to warn the man with his body language.

“The insurance company? Yes, I have a car you need to tow. We’re along Samsung 77th Street by the roundabout, how long will you take to get here? 10 minutes, okay…” Yoongi spoke on the phone. You held onto Yoongi’s arm tighter. One hand in his tight grip, the other clawing on his sleeves, slightly below his elbow. Your eyes unfocused. You were biting your lips. Chewing on them.

Yoongi climbed into his car after you. Pressed the car engine on and thumbed your knee. You weren’t as calm now.

“What if it is actually my fault? What if I was the one driving foolishly…?” You stuttered.

“We will let the police decide okay? We hadn’t even seen the footage from the dash cam yet, he could just be manipulating you to think that you were in the wrong, just by the look on his face I know he’s the type to drive like a drunkard and blame people for his mistakes…” Yoongi’s large palm covered your entire knee.

“You want jellies?” he tries to console you. “What about the car?” you looked over the car seat to the view of your stranded Mazda.

“The insurance company will have it towed, don’t worry… It’ll be okay,” he smiles and chuckles lightly, “This isn’t a big deal, accidents happen all the time, honey.”

The car pulled to a stop at the red traffic light, and he extended his arm to gather your hand to kiss your knuckles. You looked at him with watery eyes, full of guilt and despair and you said to him in broken voice,

“I’m so s-sorry… I’ve troubled you,” you bursted into tears, “I just went out to get gifts for Jungkook’s wedding and it all happened so fast…” Yoongi gathered your head in one hand, pulling your face into his nape. He plants kisses on your head and fondly smiles against your hair. . . . .

The police decided to hold the man accountable. He was clearly changing lanes without signals, and he was also ignoring your obvious signals. Not only was he driving past the speed limit at a roundabout in broad daylight, he had the audacity to shift the blames towards you. The dash cam was proof that he was a reckless driver so he had his driving license suspended and he had to pay for damages you faced. Yoongi laced his fingers into the gaps of yours as he turned around from the man. Yoongi smiled smugly and took you out of the police station. With the reports done and you were acquitted from any traffic misconduct, the car insurance company will cater to all the repairing. Yoongi will have to drive you everywhere for now but it wasn’t something he minds doing.

You let go of his hand and proceed to walk to the car, hugging yourself while he watches you from behind. Your steps weren’t hurried, rather they were a bit slow but for some reason you thought it was far better to not hold him. In your head, you are still scolding yourself and knowing you as far as he did, he understood it. He climbs into the car, avoiding eye contact as his index finger sunk into the engine button. You were dazed, looking out the window at everything on the outside. Noticing this, Yoongi stops by your favorite mall. He said he wanted to get some tools and appliances for the sink at home. Every three months, Yoongi would have the sink maintained by pouring cleaning liquid and have it stay there overnight so it won’t clog anytime soon. Usually, when this happens, he would buy dinners outside and take you out for breakfast the next morning.

Both of you once experienced the sink clogging before, and the whole kitchen was flooded with foul-smelling liquid. To make matters worse, Yoongi was away for business in Tokyo, and you had to handle them alone. Some plumbers walked in to help, and even if Yoongi was grateful for their help, he would rather his house be under his maintenance. That's why he keeps a schedule for every heavy duty appliance in the house. This is to avoid unnecessary over spending and inviting unnecessary people inside the house. He has a yearly check for the washing machine, the refrigerator, the electric stove, the air-conditioners and the oven. He is always making sure that everything is safe for you to use.

With the car parked so swiftly, Yoongi joins you in the mall's lobby. There aren’t many people around since it’s weekdays. And as if you remembered that you needed a conversation, you jerked your head up and to the side, at your husband.

“Oh right! You have a class today?” “Sent them home early with an assignment to mark later…”

He pauses, momentarily. Lifting his left wrist for the time, he yanked his sleeve up. He then, out of a sudden let out a sigh,

“Should we have dinner here or…” his voice drawls, “I plan to start on the sink right away when we get home…” “That sounds great, I don’t feel like cooking…”

You lifted your eyes at the elevator door opening before you. Yoongi lets you step in first. You move to the back of the elevator at the corner, by habit and Yoongi joins you. He could see from your face that the accident hadn’t left your mind. So when the elevator arrived at the second floor, instead of the fourth where the hardware stores were, he took your hand and walked out. You didn’t question him right away but you thought it was odd.

“Ice-cream…” he beamed at you.

He ordered your favorite. Waffles, drizzled with chocolate syrup and some fruits. Then you talked about Jungkook’s wedding gifts and plans on that day. He asked you about the venues since you were the one that booked them. You excitedly say that it was in great shape. The venue was a garden, it has this magnificent backdrop of a man-made lake and Jungkook’s fiancé loved the idea of exchanging vows at the view. However, your smile swept away when you spoke about the wedding dress.

“Why?” Yoongi spoke softly. “Because she seemed conflicted to follow what her friends’ recommended instead of what she truly wanted. She texted me yesterday, saying that she hated her wedding dress,” your shoulders dropped. “Why did she hate them?” “Her friends basically forced her to get this dress from a designer they know. From what I heard he was pretty famous, but she originally wanted her old classmate to make one for her. So now she regrets it, because the dress was not her style,” you sighed yet again.

Yoongi looked at you through his bangs and a small smile formed in the corner of his lips. Always taking in other peoples’ problems as your own, always thinking of others and always solving other people’s problems like your own. Yoongi could feel how devastated you were to hear that story first hand, and he is certain, as you were scooping those waffles into your mouth, you are thinking of ways to fix it. Typical. When you make a folded taco, you would take the ugliest one so he could have the prettier sets. When you buy medical supplies, you always make two purchases, one for him. The bigger portion of cake is for him, the larger piece, the better half. Even when you ate something you think is tasty, you would buy one for him at home.

In one ways or another, you are constantly thinking of him. It gives him butterflies. How lucky was he to be able to find you. How can someone look past such a genuinely beautiful person. Inside and out. Whose love is this true and this devoted. Only a dire fool, that is.

From the ways you love him, he is most certain that you haven't changed any part of you.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, “I bought you something… I saw this at the bookstore, it's a moon and star water globe and I thought it would look good on your studio desk…” You rummaged your bag for the item while your husband sat there, staring at you with a fond smile. Literally, a woman’s bag is a wonder. There’s all kinds of things in there. Receipts from 5 years ago, set of cutleries for travelling, hand sanitizer, tissues, a notepad, a glue gun and candies. Coins.

He picks the old receipts up between his index finger and middle finger.

“Why do you keep these things?” he chuckles. You looked over at him and snatched them.

“Are you worried that a cop may come and ask you, where were you, four years ago at 2:53 pm so you can whip out that receipt from your back and be like, ‘I was at the Hunts Restaurant sir, I had a bento and tea. I have receipts to prove it?’ For your alibi?”

“I might…” you dashed. Half of your head disappeared into the bag, still looking for the globe.

Yoongi picks up Band-Aids, some unopened menstrual pads and coupons from your favorite pizza place that expired four months ago.

“Honestly…” he comments.

“Aha!” You exclaimed, “The globe…”

The globe, like its name, has moon and stars on it. His nimble fingers examined it, closely. You were so expectant of what he’ll say.

“It’s pretty…” he said. “Isn’t it…” you gushed.

You return them into your bag because Yoongi don’t have one. Once again, you reminded him to put them on his table later on. He assures you he will, he even kept it in the car’s dashboard, so that when he returns to the office, he’ll make sure to take it with him. On the ride back home, you fell asleep. He made sure that he went over the bumps on the road gently, making his turns like a grandma on the wheel. He parked the car and waited. Fishing out his phone and he took pictures of you sleeping. He scrolls down messages from work, check on items he bought online, read a few emails...

Then you inhaled sharply, awake. Stretching your fingers.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” you mewled sleepily. “Based on experience, you take 10-15 minutes to wake up when the car stops... “ he nonchalantly passed. You smiled at his bluntness. He endured 10-15 minutes of silence with his sleeping wife despite the turmoil he went through today. You couldn’t have married a better man. Even if there was a better man out there, if it isn’t Yoongi, you don’t want him.

Yoongi wasn’t lying when he said he wants to work on the sink immediately. You held the torch while he examined the sink. He wants to change the tap and clean the drainage hole. While he was struggling under the counter, you can’t help thinking that you were so fortunate. From how he handles things, to how he comforted you in times of need, to how he is made of husband material, you are certain, that God made this one, especially for you.

When he rolled out from underneath the sink, he caught you daydreaming. And he threw a sheepish smile at you. His thin white shirt is now drenched with spots of sweats on his chest and along his back. And he snarkily say,

“Wanna shower?”

You bit your lips at his remarks, playing coy at his forwardness. When in all honesty, you were down for it. And all the showers you will have in the future. . . .

Deep in you, knees dug into the mattress, between your thighs. His veiny arms gripping hard on the bed sheet. The sounds of heavy paintings, squelching cascaded in the room. He hovers sloppy kisses along your jaws like he was possessed and he said in his husky voice,

“That guy Namjoon… don’t feel right…” “I’ve been meaning to…” hisses in the delectable pain, “Talk about him…”

You propped your elbows up, leaning against it, brushing sweaty skin with Yoongi, you spoke is rasps,

“He said some strange things, so I am going to… delete him.”

Yoongi bit his smile, his porcelain skin glistening with the sweat that drenched him. His hand glides down your torso, with touches so hungry and starved kisses. He drew out a long deep moan, dove his face into your neck, chanted your name like a mantra--like a man standing on the verge of sanity, licking on the taste of infinity. .

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cozykhaos · 4 years ago

Text

A New Sun Part 11

My internal alarm screamed me awake 6 am sharp, I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing peaceful thoughts into my head and willed myself back to sleep. It lasted just a few moments before Ash pressed his cold, wet nose to my cheek, making me bolt upright. I scowled down at the pup who was mid-stretch. Wiping the cold snot from my face I started my morning routine. Feed Asher, start coffee, let Ash out, stare at clothing.

That last part posing a problem today. Usually I’d just put on my work clothes, but today I was going back to Zuzu and clothes that were stained in hues of browns and greens from the farm wouldn’t fly.

I ended up having to go through unopened boxes to find something clean, a pair of black high wasted shorts, a loose fitting red tank top and black sneakers. I checked the time, the clock blinked 6:30. I frowned. I didn’t have to meet the others until nine. I looked around my little home frowning. There wasn’t a whole lot to do. I padded into the bathroom, I had unpacked all my toiletries a few weeks ago. I stared down at the unused jars of lotions, the untouched eye shadow palettes and make up brushes. It was hard to believe that just a month ago I was using this stuff every day.An idea hit me as I looked at the packs of unused face mask, grabbing one and stuffing my clothes into a bag and grabbing a to go cup of coffee I headed out the front door with Asher.

A short walk later I was at the hot springs, I quickly changed into my bathing suit and shoved my stuff inside a locker. Ash had found a spot under a bench, his eyes already heavy with sleep. I submerged myself in the steaming water. I sighed with relief as my muscles began to relax, my jaw unclenching, brows unfurrowing, shoulders dropping away from my ears. My eyes grew heavy from the warmth and humidity and I let out a long yawn. I reached for my coffee and took a long sip. I would need to start making this part of my routine, I needed to remember to care for my body especially after everything I’ve been putting it through.

After another long sip of coffee I smeared the face mask on. It was supposed to help remove built up dirt and help brighten the skin. Yoba knows I needed that. Everything I owned seemed to have a fine layer of dirt built up on it. I took the time cleaning every inch of myself, feeling layers of grime fall away. I had showered every day since coming to the Valley, I had to or my own stench would suffocate me in my sleep. But there was something magical about these waters, I soon felt like a brand new person.

With great hesitation I finally removed myself from the pool to go and get ready. First I peeled the face mask off which had melded to my face like concrete. I stared in disgust at the horrors it had pulled from my pores and tossed it in the nearest trash. Asher poked his head inside the trash can and I shooed him away. I changed and did minimal with my make up, there was no point in lathering it on when tomorrow they would go untouched once again. I checked the time, it was already 8:30. I hurriedly packed all my stuff up and headed back to the farm. Dropping my bag off at the house then taking Asher to Lewis’s. I bumped into Sam as I was starting back north.

“Look at you!’ he whistled and lowered his sun glasses. “All clean and stuff.”

“It took me a hot minute to find these,” I said with a chuckle. “I woke up at my usual time, so I thought I’d gussy myself up for you lot.”

“For us or for Sebastian?” Sam quirked an eyebrow up.

I ignored his comment and busied myself with trying to pull my mane of curls into a loose bun.

Abigail and Sebastian were already waiting for us at the bus stop, Sebastian’s long legs stretched out in front of him clad in faded black jeans with rips in the knees, cigarette hanging from his lips. Abigail had a paper cup in her slender fingers and she took two long gulps from it. Her purple hair hung over her shoulder in a braid. “Morning guys!” she beamed up at from her seat on the bench. Sam plopped down next to her, throwing an arm around her shoulders. That left the only seat open next to Sebastian, I stayed standing.

It wasn’t much longer before the train pulled into the station and we were off. It was only an hour ride into the city and I was back into the belly of the beast.

“What should we do first?” Abbie asked as we stepped out of the train station and into the noise of the city. I was silent as my senses adjusted to the sights and noises that raged over me. I had never noticed the thick layer of smog that hung over the city and tumbled into the streets, the sunlight still managed to be harsh somehow. The light turned green and traffic began to speed by, my heartbeat quickened and I took a step back, backing up into Sebastian. His eyebrows knitted together and he looked down at me. “You okay?” he asked.

Abbie turned and looked at us, Sam was already staring a frown on his face. I nodded and gulped down a bit of air. “Fine, just sensory over load, I guess,” I let out a nervous laugh.

“Well, is there anything you would like to do first?” Sam asked.

“We could go by the Joja building and flick it off.”

Behind me Sebastian snorted.

“You know, that’s actually not a bad idea,” Sam beamed.

“I’m down, then can we go by the mall?” Abbie asked.

“Yeah! I want to go by that new indoor skate park that they just built there!” Sam jumped in place.

“Bash?” I looked at him, he hadn’t spoken much this entire time. He shrugged. “I’m just along for the ride.”

“Don’t let him fool you Kit, he’s having fun,” Abbie smiled.

“A blast,” Sebastian smirked.

“So, Joja?” Sam asked.

“This way,” I pointed and took point. Nothing had changed, the streets had all remained the same, life in the city had continued in my absence.

“So why is this on your to-do list?” Sam questioned.

“I forgot to do it when I quit,” I said matter-of-factually.

“You used to work for Joja?” Abbie had made her way next to me.

I nodded. “I was a manager for the warranty department. I actually lived in an apartment just a few blocks from here.” I paused, we were on the opposite side of the road from Joja building. With the tiny windowed slots in the gray concrete exterior, it looked just like a prison.

“Yeesh,” Sam shivered next to me. I patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry it is much worse inside.”

“Why’d you leave?” Sebastian asked.

I cocked my head and scrunched my mouth up, I raised up my middle finger to the building then kept walking down the street. I wasn’t ready to get into that yet.

Don’t people work anymore? I thought to myself as we entered the packed mall. It was a Thursday morning and seemed like every soul in Zuzu had taken a detour to the shops first.

“Where should we go first?” Abbie wiggled next to me.

“Skate park.”

“Electronics.”

Both boys spoke at the same time.

“There is this awesome cafe in here that sells the best cinnamon rolls, I’m just saying,” I pipped up after.

“Ohh, that sounds yummy!” Abbie beamed.

“Do they have coffee?” Sebastian asked.

“Yes, but at this point I think you should hook yourself up to an IV, just have coffee pumped into your blood veins,” I said.

“Is that a thing?” Sebastian questioned, his eye brows raising.

“If it is, I don’t think it is recommended,” I shrugged.

“I’d invest in that,” Sebastian sighed.

“We could find you one of those hats!” Sam said pointing to his head then pretended to grab two invisible cups on the side.

Abbie made a face. “Like the beer guzzler hat?”

“That!” Sam flapped his arms. “But instead of beer, we put coffee mugs in it!”

Sebastian stroked the stubble on his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “I could be swayed into considering it.”

Finding the little hole in the wall cafe, we placed orders. I was declared to official Food Guide for the rest of the day by Sam. I accepted it with a sweeping bow and asked how everyone felt about Mexican food.

“This is the part I miss about the city,” I started. “I fucking love food. Don’t get me wrong, Gus is amazing, but damn I miss having so much cuisine at my finger tips.” I sighed and stuffed another bite of warm gooey cinnamon roll into my mouth.

“I’m going to miss these,” Sam sniffled and hugged his box to his chest.

“On Saturday morning and I was feeling really lazy, I’d just have Post Mates deliver them to my apartment,” I smiled at the memory. Wrapped in my favorite blanket, coffee brewing, a controller in my hand.

“Post Mates, what’s that?” Abbie asked.

“What?” I snapped out of my day dream.

“Post Mates, what is it?” Abbie repeated.

I blinked at her slowly then looked at both of the boys to see if it was a joke. Both of their faces remained in a blank stare. Holy shit. There is no Post Mates in the Valley. It made since, seeing as we were almost to the middle of no where. The hotel only had a few rooms and Gus lived in one of them!

“Post Mates is a delivery service,” I shrugged. “You place an order on the app and your Post Mate goes and gets it and brings it to you.”

The three exchanged looks, Sebastian dug his phone out of his pocket.

“You’re joking?” Sam asked.

I shook my head and took a drink of coffee.

Sebastian held up his phone, showing his friends the app.

“What the actual fuck?” Abbie snatched his phone and began scrolling. With a scowl and a huff Sebastian leaned back in his chair.

“I’m jealous and a bit confused,” Abbie admitted after several moments of silence.

“I’m just jealous!” Sam threw his arms up.

“Why wouldn’t you just go and get your own food?” Abbie asked.

“Lazy,” I shrugged then added. “Drunk.”

“That’s so awesome!” Sam’s forehead made contact with the table. Sebastian snatched his phone out of Abbie’s hand, she stuck her tongue out at him.

We finished our treats then continued about our day. We unleashed Sam upon the skate park. Stopped at a Hot Topic for Abbie, where she found purple finger less gloves that matched her hair.

The electronic shop took up both floors of the mall and we lost Sebastian for over an hour. We found him leaning against a table, talking to an employee, a short adorable girl with a pink pixie cut. I felt something in my chest squeeze and I ducked down an aisle, separating myself from the group.

I had spent so much of my life trying to escape this overwhelming city and when I’m finally able to, I come right back. Like a clingy girlfriend.

It’s just the day Kit.

What about the farm? Summer is just a few days away, there is still so much to do.

It will all be there tomorrow.

When did these shelves get so close together?

When did it become so loud in here?

Who turned the air off?

Sweat beaded on my forehead, I was gasping for air.

I started moving. I had traveled these walk ways a hundred times before and my feet carried me to the nearest exit and outside. I kept walking until I found an alcove and plopped myself down onto the ground. A car sped past, the engine roaring, another car this time speakers that were too loud. A slam of a door. People walked, unaware of my state, laughing, talking.

Breath.

It wasn’t enough and my hands started to shake, my fingers tingling.

Breath.

The numbness spread up my arms and into my lips.

Breath.

Sneakers pounding on pavement quickly approached me.

“Kit!” Abbie’s voice broke through the madness inside. Sam practically threw himself on the ground next to me, his arms wrapping around my torso. For the first time I noticed he smelled of sunshine and sand. Just like the beach, just like the Valley.

Sebastian knelt in front of me, his dark coffee eyes meeting my clover ones and rooting me back to the ground. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just a little sensory over load,” I sniffed, rubbing at my damp cheeks. When had I started crying? A frown tugged at his lips, Sam pulled me closer to him, crushing me to his side.

“Sam, I think you are killing her,” Abbie said.

“With my love!” Sam patted my head, it was more aggressive then comforting. Sebastian rolled his eyes and stood, reaching out his hand to me.

“Oh thanks bro,” Sam reached for it. Sebastian popped Sam’s hand away, I gave him my hand, but there was a long awkward moment where I was just holding his hand because Sam was still keeping me anchored to the ground.

“Dude, let go!” Abbie kicked Sam’s leg.

“Fine!” Sam let go and stood. Sebastian finally pulled me to my feet, he pulled me into a quick embrace before letting me go and giving me a once over.

Thunk-thunk.

Hush you.

I cleared my throat “Sorry for the scare, we may now all go back to whatever it was that we were doing.”

“I wasn’t done shopping,” Sebastian shoved his thumb back towards the electronics store.

“I don’t need anything from there. Want to go to the book store with me Kit?” Abbie asked.

Honestly, I didn’t.

I wanted to go look at the new builds. Look at getting new RAM for my pc and new RGB lighting. But I don’t think I could take seeing Sebastian and that girl together, so I agreed and followed Abbie. I found more than I thought I would. I found new models for Solorian Chronicles, the game Sam and Sebastian played every Saturday night. An adventure diary for Abbie. I found myself in front of the Lawn and Garden section, staring at a copy of ‘Farming for Dummies’. I frowned.

“Whatcha got there?” Abbie asked appearing from behind a shelf. I jumped and shook my head.

“Just stuff,” I shrugged. I looked at the stack of books in her arms. They were all adventure books, the main character female, I smiled to myself.

Abbie glanced at the shelf and frowned. “Don’t tell me you are getting that.”

I shrugged again.

“Kit, come on you are way better than that,” she scoffed.

“Abbie, I have no idea what I’m doing,” I sighed. “Thankfully Summer is coming up, which is the only season I know shit about, but damn.” For the first time I felt defeated. “Grandpa’s busiest season was summer and fall, but they were also his most profitable. That’s actually why I started going to Gaia Farm. Dad sent me there so I wouldn’t be a lazy ass all Summer and I could help grandpa out. Did I learn a lot, definitely. But I’m still flying blind here.”

Abbie’s face scrunched up, before taking one of her books and bopping me on the head with it.

“Ow!” I rubbed the spot she hit.

“Kit, I can honestly say I understand, I do,” she began. “Recently my dad has been giving me a lot more to do around the store. More responsibility, taking shifts by myself, showing me how to order. But if he were to die tomorrow I would have no idea what to do. I’d probably just burn the store down.” Her statement was very matter of fact. “I think you are just overwhelmed right now. Give it some time and Hurricane Kit will sweep through Gaia Farm and so much ass will have been kicked.” Abbie looked at the shelf and plucked a book off and added it to my pile ‘Farming for Beginners’.

“If our hands weren’t full, I’d hug you,” I sniffled.

“We will hug it out later.” Abbie laughed.

The guys were ecstatic about their gifts, it was a model castle, with a little village and a few characters that they were going to build and paint over the weekend. Abbie whispered “nerds” under her breath earning glares from both boys. We hung out at the mall for a little bit longer, then explored the town. I took them to my favorite Mexican restaurant, then showed them my old apartment. I pointed to the 3rd floor window that used to be mine. Sebastian stared at that window, a sense of longing in his eyes.

“I’m confused,” Abbie said from beside me.

“About?” I looked at her.

“Why is do you have fire escape if there are bars on the windows?” She asked with a laugh.

Sebastian frowned, his head cocked.

Behind us a large truck revved its engine, smoke poured from the exhaust and overwhelmed us. A horn honked. Tires squealed.

I waved my hand in front of my face to help clear away smoke. The others coughed loudly and tried to fan the smoke away. Once things settled I answered Abbie’s question. “So the bars on the window were installed after someone broke into a 5th story window and they installed the bars on for safety measures.”

My friends stared at me unblinking.

“What?”

“That dumb,” Sebastian blinked.

“I’m aware.”

The sun was setting and the street lights began blinking on, we headed back to the train station. The ride home was quite, both Abbie and Sam had fallen asleep the moment they sat down. Abbie’s head on his shoulder, his head resting atop hers.

“They are so cute when they aren’t talking,” I bumped my elbow against Sebastian’s.

“Yeah they are. I can almost tolerate them.”

I snickered. He began scrolling through his phone, his brows coming together.

“What’s up Bash?”

He hummed and kept scrolling. “I just got a new project to work on, so it’s going to be a late night.”

“Project?”

“Yeah for coding, it’s for a new medical software.”

I stared at him, one eye brow raised. “That’s impressive.”

Sebastian snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. “You are the only one who thinks so.”

He turned away from me and stared out the window. I sighed and leaned back in my seat, guess that conversation is over.

We sat like this for awhile, in silence, listening to the heavy breathing of our two sleeping friends.

“Thanks for yesterday,” Sebastian finally said.

“For what?” I turned to him.

“Helping me through the anxiety attack,” his voice was low, just above a whisper.

“Of course,” I shrugged. “I...”

My voice caught in my throat. I what? Care about you? Like you? Want to kiss your stupid face?

“I’m glad I could be there for you.”

Sebastian faced me, eyes exploring my face for a moment before turning back to the window.

#A New Sun #Stardew Valley #Stardew Valley Fanfiction #Stardew Valley Story #Sebastian Stardew Valley #Sebastian Stardew Valley Fanfiction #Sebastian SDV Fanfiction #SDV Sebastian #Stardew Valley Sebastian #Farmer Stardew Valley #SebastianxFarmer

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migleefulmoments · 5 years ago

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Let me help you understand the “confusion” over CDAN’s Blind

Crazy Days and Nights mentioned Darren and Mia in a podcast and then wrote a blind on his website. The cc fandom is confused and I want to take a moment and explain it for those who are looking for the truth.

First the Podcast mention:

mmack0621 @ajw720 I mentioned trouble in paradise, but this is what Enty said so no one can get mad at us & think we made it up. He said last night quote "Oooo...a little speculation, a little gossip that's probably gonna turn into a blind item tomorrow. But I think DC might be having some marriage issues. He has not been going out with his "wife" lately. He has been heading to events solo. So we'll have to see how that goes. " It was 36 minutes into about a 42 minute podcast. It caught my attention because D is one of the people that he rarely has gossip on. Who knows what's going on?! 🤷‍♀️

The Blind:

Now the MOST IMPORTANT PART: CDAN’s Disclaimer

“CRAZY DAYS AND NIGHTS IS A GOSSIP SITE. THE SITE PUBLISHES RUMORS, CONJECTURE, AND FICTION. IN ADDITION TO ACCURATELY REPORTED INFORMATION, CERTAIN SITUATIONS, CHARACTERS AND EVENTS PORTRAYED IN THE BLOG ARE EITHER PRODUCTS OF THE AUTHOR’S IMAGINATION OR ARE USED FICTITIOUSLY. INFORMATION ON THIS SITE MAY CONTAIN ERRORS OR INACCURACIES; THE BLOG’S PROPRIETOR DOES NOT MAKE WARRANTY AS TO THE CORRECTNESS OR RELIABILITY OF THE SITE'S CONTENT. LINKS TO CONTENT ON AND QUOTATION OF MATERIAL FROM OTHER SITES ARE NOT THE RESPONSIBILITY OF CRAZY DAYS AND NIGHTS.”

CDAN admits it publishes fiction-LIES- and items which are “figments of the author's imagination”. That should tell you enough about the viability of the stories Enty publishes and yet, Abby and the cc fandom have a long history of accepting CDAN’s blinds as truth regardless of how illogical and irrational they are. Enty is claiming that Darren and Mia are having problems in their marriage and his only evidence is his suggestion that Darren is attending events without his wife. Missing an event hardly proves marital discord, but the claim isn’t even true! Mia has been by Darren’s side for the vast majority of the events he’s attended since the wedding. The only event she didn’t go to that I can think of in the last 2 months is the quick trip to NYC for the Barry’s event. Maybe she missed another event but certainly not more than 1 or 2.

The interesting thing is that the cc Anons KNOW this blind isn’t true and a few have brought it up to Abby. Instead of outright rejecting the blind as a lie, Abby is calling it “confusing” as if that is a position one can take when confronted with lies.

CDAN fabricates gossip in order to drive traffic to it’s website and pod. It’s PR 101-write salacious items and the gossip-hungry people will come running. Enty doesn’t care if it’s true, partially true or even a little true. He is relying on the fact that too many people in 2019 are willing to be conned, lied to and gaslighted if only it will prove their previously held beliefs are true. Enty doesn’t care that he’s hurting real people or that he’s lying. Lying and hurting people is what he does so it is up to the reader to be smarter than he is and protect oneself from his lies and keep oneself from being scammed.

Here are some of the cc comments in reverse chronological order for context:.

Hi nonnies! Seems to me she’s mostly everywhere. He did get the prior nyc trip on his own. Ofc he’s there now for her step brother’s wedding.

But the blind was confirmed to be him. I’m just reporting the news. I think collectively we are confused.

*********************************************

She is keeping her anons together by making this a “we” thing- “We are all in this together”. Abby is saying “Don’t think for yourself, I’ve done that already and I’ve determined that we are collectively confused”.

Anonymous asked: One of the gossip web sites has recently posted about a closeted actor and his wife having marital problems. A couple of replies assumed it to be D/darren C. Who plants these items? Is the purpose just to get publicity?

ajw720 answered: According to @mmack0621 it’s absolutely d as he was also mentioned on the podcast. Why? We don’t know.

***************************************************

Here Abby gets it confused. She has an erroneous understanding about how PR works and how gossip sites get their information. A successful working actor does not want to be on CDAN. While all publicity is good publicity, being on a website that routinely publishes salacious lies is not the kind of publicity Darren wants or needs. Enty makes money by getting clicks on his website- he uses Google Ads and listeners to his podcast who listen to commercials from his “sponsors” (I presume, I’ve never listened to the pod nor will I ever, even for research. The other option would be, he charges subscribers a subscription fee). Darren gets nothing positive out of Enty posting blinds that say his marriage is in trouble or he’s gay. Celebs have enough trouble getting their truth out into this gossip-drive society, the ls thing they want is to do it through blinds on a site that admits it makes up stories for clicks. Abby likes to pretend that Darren or his team or Mia submit info to gossip sites and call paparazzi because it fits HER storyline. LIke Enty, Abby,

“Publishes rumors, conjecture, and fiction. in addition to accurately reported information. Nearly 100% of the situations, characters and events portrayed on Abby’s blog are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously”.

Let me be clear, NOBODY on Darren’s team -including his wife- ever call the paparazzi or gossip websites. They all have much more effective and efficient methods of getting the information they make public. Gossip sites exist solely to make money for their owners. Struggling D-list actors and reality stars have learned to manipulate tabloids in order to get their own names and images published but anyone of Darren’s caliber has better ways of doing that that allow him 100% of the control. When you call a tabloid or a pap, you lose control of the narrative. Celebs in 2019 have access to their own PR teams, Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, YouTube, and if they wanted to have a longer conversation, someone of Darren’s status would have access to much more traditional and reliable media organizations like TV networks, NYT, WaPO, even People Magazine which is on another level from CDAN. l is calling Enty though I am sure that ccers are sending him “intel” they fabricated.

klainecentric Now I'm interested in which article, I don't want my bubble to burst and my hope to dwindle, but this is good news. The last couple of RC events were very telling.

leka-1998 @klainecentric you can find it here.

ajw720 Apparently on the podcast he was mentioned by name and he said trouble in paradise. Not sure what paradise he’s referring to. M is anything but paradise and that fraud of a marriage is a nightmare. But if this is perhaps d&c hinting there’s trouble. I’m cool with it. But not getting my hopes up.

Taking what we know that CDAN lies and the fact that we have seen plenty of evidence that Darren and Mia have been attending events together, the rationale and logical conclusion is that Enty fabricated the story in order to get clicks on his website and listeners to his podcast. The logical conclusion is that it is a flat-out lie. It is not rational to conclude that something “confusing” is going on.

Why the cc fandom never learns from their mistakes.

This is another concrete example of Abby taking everything as confirmation bias instead of accepting she is wrong and learning from that. She has been pushing a narrative that Darren and Mia are going to get divorced sometime around their first anniversary and everything is simply confirmation bias for that narraitive. This is a perfect example of how the rationale and intelligent resonse to CDAN’s comment is to Once again, the fandom is trying to shove a square peg into a round hole and it just doesn’t fit.

Another important lesson needs to be addressed: It is true that sometimes a lot of tabloids will start pushing stories that someone has cheated. We can use the example of Justin Timberlake this week. Justin was seen at a party holding hands with his costar. Lots of media sites ran the story because there were photos (X) and Justin Apologized to Jessica about his lapse in judgment. Fox, CNN, Yahoo Entertainment, Fox Business, NBC 10, People, TMZ, US Weekly, and The Guardian-just to name a few-ran the story. Compare that to CDAN’s claim that Darren’s marriage is in trouble-the ONLY site who ran the story is a site who admits on its front page that it “PUBLISHES RUMORS, CONJECTURE, AND FICTION. IN ADDITION TO ACCURATELY REPORTED INFORMATION, CERTAIN SITUATIONS, CHARACTERS AND EVENTS PORTRAYED IN THE BLOG ARE EITHER PRODUCTS OF THE AUTHOR’S IMAGINATION OR ARE USED FICTITIOUSLY”.

#cc #ccer #cc fandom #crisscolfer #mia love darren

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justlightlysedated · 5 years ago

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This is for @fraudulentzodiacs 💜💜

Sarah! Babe! I'm not going to be able to finish this tonight, because it got longer than I was expecting (#storyofmylife) ANYWAY, I'm a lil bit drunk rn, but I wanted to give you a sneak peek because today is your day, and even though I write you things all the time, I wrote this one ESPECIALLY with you in mind, it's going to be sort of based of this romcom I saw the other day called, Falling Inn Love, which was ridiculous and hilarious, and my first immediate thought was to write a malex au, followed by Sarah would LOVE this, so basically, I love you with my entire heart, and you make me so ridiculously happy, and I am so grateful that you are in my life, so here's the beginning of this fic and HOPEFULLY I'll have the rest of it all done for you tomorrow! 😊💜

“Missing me already?” Cam asks as soon as she picks up the phone, and Alex can hear the smirk on her face.

“I’m going to kill my brother, and go to jail for fratricide, and then you’ll be sorry when you don’t have anyone to go with you to your ten year high school reunion that you can show off,” Alex replies, voice muffled from the pillow he still has over his head.

“Yeah,” Cam says. “I didn’t catch any of that, but I’m assuming that it’s about your douchebag brother and asshole of a father. You know you don’t have to live with them, right? You have more than enough money to get your own place.”

“I know,” he sighs, and pulls the pillow from his face bringing the phone closer to his ear and mouth. “I’m just weighing out my options.”

"You've been saying that for the last two weeks," she says, humming thoughtfully. "Wanna know what I think?"

"Never," Alex replies with another sigh as he drags himself to sitting position on the bed.

"Well too bad," she says sounding way too cheerful this early in the morning. "I think that you're just not used to being by yourself."

Alex scoffs, opening his mouth, but Cam talks over him, loud enough that he has to pull his phone away from his ear.

"You grew up in a house with five other people, and immediately left highschool to join the Air Force where you were also surrounded by people and then overseas you were in a team of five that became so codependent you couldn't work well with others-"

"You say that like you weren't on the same team," Alex interrupts her moodily.

"AND," Cam continues voice going louder. "When you were in rehab you had a schedule where at least three times a day you were surrounded by people not to mention group therapy and your PT."

Alex sighs but doesn't say anything.

"Hate to be the one to break this to you, Rockstar, but you're not as much of a loner as you think you are."

"So what you're saying is that I'm going to go to jail for fratricide because I don't want to be alone?"

Alex can hear Cam rolling her eyes.

"No, I'm saying that you need to suck it up and move on."

Alex purses his mouth and looks across the empty room that has boxes of his stuff still stacked in one corner. Right on top of the dresser is the copy of his mom's will, and Alex stares at it with a thoughtful look on his face.

"You know when my mom died we were overseas on a mission and I couldn't make it back in time for her funeral or for the reading of her will, but Jacob came by yesterday with the paperwork and it turns out, she left me a house. In Roswell."

"Rockstar," Cam says slowly. "I meant that you should move to your own apartment and see if there are any gatherings for veterans in your area, not to go seclude yourself in the same town that drove your mom crazy enough that she married the first outsider to drive through the town."

"Mom never really talked about her hometown," Alex admits. "The only story she told us growing up was the legend about the spaceship crash. And I thought it was because she hated it there. But if she hated it so much, then why did she have a house there?"

"Maybe it's an old family house that was left to her just like she left it to you," Cam says reasonably.

"If that was the case she would've left the house for Hunter. She left it to me for a reason."

"You're gonna go seclude yourself up in Roswell no matter what I say, aren't you?"

Alex had already made the choice last night when Jacob gave him the paperwork, he just hadn't realized it until this very moment.

"On the bright side," he says cheerfully, smile widening when he hears Cam groan. "It's much closer to California than New York."

It doesn't take Alex long to get his things together and hit the road. He decides to road trip from Albany to Roswell, and Cam tells him that he's crazy, but still answers when the silence of the road gets to be too much for Alex and he calls her automatically.

It takes him three days, but he sees the Welcome to Roswell sign, with the UFO and waving alien with the rising sun, and it makes him smile involuntarily.

His mom loved to tell the legend in her small town about the spaceship that crashlanded in the desert. His father always stepped in to correct her and say that it was a weather balloon, but Alex always liked the thought of there being people on other planets, that could crash into his world at any time.

Alex has his phone in his hand darting a look at it to make sure he's still heading in the right direction since he'd gotten lost three times on the way and then looks up and yelps, slamming down on the brakes and turning the wheel forcibly to the side to avoid the truck that just swerved into his lane.

His phone gets knocked out of his hand and goes flying out of the window and Alex watches as it hits the pavement and gets crushed immediately beneath the screeching wheels of the truck as it also halts to a stop.

"What the fuck?" Alex says, as he gets out of the car, tired and running on fumes and the black tar that was the gas station coffee he'd finished drinking twenty minutes ago.

Alex goes to get his phone, bending down, as the driver of the truck practically falls out of it, plastic and glass bottles falling on the floor with him.

Alex picks up his broken phone and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that the SD chip is still intact.

"I'm so sorry," the driver drawls, voice slurring just a little bit, and Alex feels the bright heat of anger in the pit of his stomach that he smothers immediately, pressing his lips together as he gets to his feet. "I'll buy you a new phone."

He turns to the stranger who is looking at Alex's phone with wide eyes like he has no idea how he'd pay for a new one, but Alex is shaking his head. "I have a warranty, but maybe you should order an Uber next time instead of trying to drive home drunk."

The stranger bristles immediately, going on the defensive and giving Alex a look from beneath the brim of the cowboy hat sitting on top of his head. “Well, I’m sorry to tell you this Mister High and Mighty, but you were the one who swerved into my lane, maybe you shouldn’t be looking at your phone while you’re driving.”

Alex scoffs, “Clearly, your short term memory is being affected by how much you drank-”

“And clearly, you’re just a condescending asshole,” he snaps cutting Alex off.

Alex gapes at him. “You have no idea who I am.”

“And you don’t know me from Adam, but here you are, judging me, and you know what, I don’t have to stand here and listen to this,” and without another word he gets back into his truck, and drives off.

Alex yelps and jumps back so that he doesn’t get hit by the truck and yells, “Hope the next person you almost run over is a cop, asshole!”

The truck just accelerates and Alex gets back into his car, slamming the door shut behind him.

He looks down at his broken phone and sighs.

His car doesn’t have a GPS and belonged to Flint so it was probably on the verge of breaking down as well, but it got him here with minimal problems.

He’s in Roswell, and it is a small town. Alex thinks that it won’t be hard to find some place where he can get directions to the house.

He turns the car on, ignoring the sound that it makes, and pulls back on to the road, and continues to drive into town.

#im not tagging this because its not finished #but i love you and wanted to post something for you today #and yes they are still aliens btw

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