#a few towns with the word hampton in their names so they become The Hamptons collectively

[oflgtfol]

did you know long island is shaped like a fish. now you do :)

[cocosstories]

Sebastian Stan One Shot

Prompt:

sebastian stan x reader and their first time smut

Warning: Smut

You and Sebastian had been friends for years, meeting for the first time at a mutual friends wedding.

As time passed, you and Seb became pretty close and because of this, your group of friends always tried to get you together.

"We are just friends!"

You would say repeatedly when they inevitably began asking about the two of you.

"Oh come on. You honestly have never even thought about just sleeping with him? I mean Seb is hot. If I weren't married..."

"Y/F/N!"

You turn in the passenger seat of her car in shock at her statement.

"What? I mean you won't fuck him so why can't I fantasize about it?"

She replies with a shrug.

It was fourth of July weekend and the two of you were on your way to the Hamptons to spend the holiday partying at your friends huge beach house.

Sebastian was coming too and you were already trying to figure out ways to avoid the inevitable things your friends were going to try to do to get you to hook up.

"Holy shit, this is amazing!"

You say, stepping out of the car as you pull up.

"Yeah, we finally finished renovating. Just in time for this weekend."

Y/F/N says with a devilish smile before heading up to the house to join her husband and Sebastian who were already there.

"Hey, Y/N."

Sebastian smiles and hugs you.

"Hey Seabass."

You reply.

You could feel your friends staring as the two of you hugged and quickly pulled out of his embrace so you didn't give them anymore ammunition.

"Oh, Y/N, I forgot to tell you, we were trying to figure out the rooms and you and Sebastian are going to have to share."

Your friend says, turning to walk into the house before you can protest.

"CONVENIENT!!"

You yell after her as she giggles.

"So where is this room?"

You ask her husband who leads you and Sebastian through the beach house and to the room your friend has assigned you to.

"What. The. Fuck."

You say as you look around the room.

It was set up as like a honeymoon suite.

Champagne, roses, candles and even silk sheets.

"What the hell does she think is going to happen? That we are going to sleep in the same bed and all of a sudden your penis is going to end up in my vagina like magic?"

You rant and Sebastian laughs.

"Y/N, Y/N, hey it's just for a weekend. It's not that big of a deal and they can't make us do anything."

Seb says putting a hand on each shoulder to get you to focus.

You nod with a sigh, knowing he was right, they couldn't make you hook up with Seb.

"Alright, fine but I swear I am going to kill her if she pulls anything else."

Sebastian agrees and the two of you get ready for the nights festivities.

It was a party set up on the beach just off the house and your friends spared no expense.

A DJ, dancefloor, all the booze you could ever ask for at the open bar and everything started with a beautiful sunset dinner near the water.

As the party really got going, you headed to the bar with a few friends, ready to do some shots, Sebastian joining in.

A few hours later, you were on the dancefloor, feeling pretty good when Sebastian is brought over by your friend.

"You two should dance!"

She yells over the music and pushes the two of you together just as a slower song begins to play.

You didn't know if it was the alcohol, the music or just the feeling of Sebastian's arms around you but you couldn't help but give into your friends request.

"Lets go upstairs."

Sebastian whispers in your ear and against everything sober you had said, drunk you agreed.

The two of you barely make it to your room before his lips are on yours.

You wake up the next morning to a raging hangover, most of the night before blank in your mind.

Sebastian is softly snoring next to you and you decide to get up to pee.

As you do, you become painfully aware that you are naked and carefully lift the sheets to see if Sebastian is as well.

"Fuck."

You whisper.

Getting up, you give yourself a second to let the room stop spinning before you quietly find some sweats and a tshirt in your bag.

You quickly get dressed and grab your phone and bag before sneaking out of the bedroom and run downstairs.

"Y/N! Finally you're awake!"

Your friend says, her voice like a meat cleaver slicing through your pounding head.

"Yeah, hey, can we go get breakfast?"

You ask.

"Sure. Should we wait for Sebastian?"

"No. Um he wants to sleep. Just us ok?"

With that, she agrees and the two of you head off into town to her favorite breakfast spot.

After getting a booth and ordering some coffee, you make your way to the bathroom, just getting there before the contents of you stomach make their way back out of you.

Twenty minutes later you rejoin your friend who had ordered you the perfect hungover breakfast and begin to eat.

"Your phone has been going off like crazy."

She says, pushing it towards you and you see the multiple missed calls from Sebastian before putting it in your purse.

As you eat, the night begins to come back to you in flashes.

The dinner, the party, shots, dancing with Sebastian, going up to the room, the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands running all over your body until he reaches behind you to unzip your dress.

You try to shake the image out of your head but it only brings up more images.

The look in his eyes as he kneels in front of you while he pulls your panties off, the feeling of his stubble tickling your leg as he leaves a trail of kisses up it, the feeling of his hair as your fingers run through it while he eats you out.

"Shit."

You mumble under your breath.

"What's wrong?"

Your friend ask and you shake your head.

"Nothing, bit my cheek."

You lie.

The sound of your voice moaning his name, nearly begging for more before he stands up and pulls off his pants and underwear, revealing his very hard member.

'Tell me what you want'

You close your eyes and can hear his voice clear as day as the full scene comes into your mind.

'Fuck me.'

You replied, watching him contemplate.

You groan as he waits, wondering what you will do if he refuses.

You reach down and begin playing with yourself as he stands back and watches with a satisfied smirk.

'You want some help?'

He asks before he moves your fingers and replaces them with his own.

His body felt amazing on top of yours.

"Y/N!"

You are brought out of your memories when your friend nearly screams your name to get your attention.

"Sorry, what?"

"I said, Sebastian just texted me and he wants to know why you won't answer. He needs to talk to you."

"Alright, just tell him we will be back later."

You sigh and pick at your food.

"Why are you avoiding Seb?"

She asks.

"I'm not."

More images begin to flood your brain as the feeling of him sliding inside of you hits.

You swear his eyes were more blue than normal as he looks into yours for just a second as he pumps in and out of you harder and harder at your request.

"Bullshit. You are avoiding him. Wait...oh my God, you had sex last night! Didn't you?"

You groan.

You friend could always read you like an open book and to be honest, you were shocked it took her this long to figure it all out.

"I knew it! Everyone said I was crazy to think that you two would give in one day but I knew it would happen!"

She says happily and you roll your eyes.

His grunts and groans fill your head as he fists the sheets to keep his balance.

You could almost feel yourself clench around him as the heat  builds.

He catches your lips for a second just before he cums and buries his head in your neck.

His sloppy thrusts were just enough to push you over the edge and your toes curl as your orgasm hits, nearly making you black out.

You swallow hard as the diner and your friend come back into focus.

"So, you're avoiding him because you slept with him?"

She asks and you groan.

"It just happened. We were drunk. Like really drunk and when I woke up this morning, I didn't even remember it."

You finally admit.

"Oh, that bad huh?"

You glare as she laughs at her own joke.

"I remember it now, smart ass and it was not bad."

You take a sip of your coffee with your eyebrow raised.

"So if it was good, then why won't you talk to him?"

You sigh.

"Because drunk sex is always good and Seb and I are friends. I don't want to complicate that."

Your friend shakes her head.

"That's not it. You don't want to admit that we have all been right this whole time and there could actually be something between you two."

You spend the remainder of breakfast thinking about your friends words and before you knew it, you were headed back to the house to talk to Sebastian.

"Hey."

You say making your way into the bedroom, finding him sitting on the bed

"Hi."

He says with a small smile.

"Look, Sebastian, last night was unexpected. Amazing but unexpected and I know I shouldn't have bolted like I did but I really don't want to complicate things so lets chalk it up to the alcohol and our friends getting in our heads and leave it at that."

The words come out quickly, you wanting to make sure he couldn't interrupt your speech before you could finish.

"What if I don't want to just leave it at that?"

He asks, stopping you in your tracks as you head to the bathroom for a shower.

"What?"

He crawls to the end of the bed.

"What if I don't want to leave it at that? What if I want to try what happened last night again? Sober this time?"

He says with a slight smirk.

You cross your arms and look at him.

"Lets do it again, sober."

He says again, reaching for you, hoping you will give into him.

Your mind races, searching for the answer of what to do, one side wanting to do it again, the other screaming not to risk ruining your friendship.

Feedback is always welcomed and greatly appreciated

[mythiccheroacademia]

“All these kisses and hugs is not shit. You a damn drug, you're toxic.”                          —Kehlani

Word Count: 1.3K Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki x Reader Context: Everything is the same, you’re just pro-heroes. Oh, and Bakugo defintely broke your heart when you were younger, but for some reason, you two don’t want to act like that happened?  Warnings: explicit language, sexual content (but no real smut), a couple laws were broken

Manga Recolor by XCamykoX on DeviantArt

All characters are 18+

A/N: You to me when I give you the look for feigning for this man. I swear I love Izuku. I just had to do it for the drabble. You’ll understand in a few lines. Also, idk if Hampton is a real place. I just saw it in  a hotel ad and went along with it. Enjoy <3

Bakugo Katsuki | Toxic

Bakugo Bakugo Bakugo.

He was all that was in your mind and you knew it wasn’t supposed to be like that. He wasn’t supposed to make your stomach quiver or your legs tremble with anticipation. He was supposed to be the hallmark of your heartbroken memories—not the pillar of your desire.

You groaned before mentally making a verdict. You bolted upright and decided to trade in your battery-powered boyfriend for the real one.

Izuku.

Your boyfriend, you reminded yourself.

You shook your head. Today was a good time to be risky. You felt comfortable in your skin for once and confident enough that the right picture would make the usually reserved man run across town in four seconds flat.

Giggling in excitement, you felt your stomach fill with butterflies. You traded your pajamas for the white lacy lingerie you’d been keeping in your closet. You analyzed yourself in the mirror, adjusting the straps of the thigh highs for good measure. Smoothing down your fit, you grabbed your phone and tried to take an endearing snapshot of yourself.

The results made you frown. This wouldn’t do. It wasn’t demanding enough. Your eyes traveled around the room and your face brightened as an idea popped up in your head. You set the timer and set your phone against a stand.

The round of camera clicks allowed you to relax. Soon enough, each pose came easier than the last.

When you were done, you almost skipped to your phone. You couldn’t help the string of giggles that spilled from your lips as you scrolled through the photos.

These were the ones. They were enough to a send wave of goosebumps over your skin. The courage and exhilarant thrill that chilled your spine fueled you to caption the seductive pictures.

I’m feeling very lonely. Come keep me company?

You bit your lip to quell your nervous shivers. The photos were sent and all that was left for you to do was wait. You flopped face first on your bed and hopefully looked on your phone for that thrilling response of—I want you in X position by the time I get there—or something along those lines.

Things that Bakugo would say when you’d—

Stop it. Bakugo isn't who you want. It’s Midoriya.

You kept your thoughts positive as you scrolled through your texts. That is, until you noticed the messages weren’t conversations between you and your boyfriend.  

Your heart sunk into your gut when read the contact name. Flicking to the number, your throat dried up as you read that the area code was 485 instead of 487.

No no no no no no no no no no no—

You scrambled onto your knees, panting as if you had run a 10k. Your chest ached as tears burned your eyes, your fingers fruitlessly scrambed on the smart screen for any type of recall button.

“Oh fuck,” you cursed.

Swallowing the rock in your throat, you sniffed and blinked away the tears. This was your fault. You decided to go ahead and act like a horny teenaged airhead instead of doing things the mature way. There was no point in crying about it now.

You forced yourself to take a quick look of who you sent the private pictures to.

Bakugo Katsuki.  

Great.

You threw yourself down onto the bed, this time, letting a couple tears fall down your cheeks. You fucked up. Big time. Not only had you miserably failed at distracting yourself from the same man that you were supposed to stay away from, but now he had even more things to hold over your head.

As if leaving you for your best friend in college wasn’t bad enough.

You would never be able to live this down. How the hell were you supposed to face him tom—

Your phone rung.

Dread stung filled your chest. Without even having to look, you knew who was calling. His name ran bold across your homepage and the rhythmic piano song filled the corners of your room.

Couldn’t he just let you wallow in your misery? Did he really have to add on to the torment you would undoubtedly face tomorrow at work?  Maybe if you just let it ring, he’d leave you alone.

…As if. This was Bakugo you were talking about.

It was better to face him now.

You pressed the answer button and spoke.

“I know I screwed up really bad, but remember how I thought I was dyslexic? The area codes looked the same out of the corner of my eye and I didn’t mean to send this to you and it was totally meant for Izuku—“

A deep husky voice reached your ears sending waves of pleasure to your core.

“Y/N L/N, what the fuck kind of game are you playing?”

The last time he used your full name was when his hands were rubbing down the hills and valleys of your body. You nervously played with the strap on your shoulders and continued.

“Bakugo, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’m stupid. Just forget I ever sent the pictures and—?“ Your brows creased together as the sound of highspeed winds flowed through the speaker. “A-are you driving?”  

The hero’s foot fell harder upon the gas pedal. “How the fuck can I forget about that when I know you own the lingerie you have in my dreams?” Bakugo blared the horn of his car and swerved around a slower vehicle. “You make me regret living in shitty Hampton.”

Your eyes widened. Hampton? Was he driving 45 minutes to—

“No, Katsuki. Go back. I’m begging you.” You didn’t realize the silk-laced voice was yours until seconds after.

“Sweetheart, I don’t want you begging for that reason. You wanna play games? Fine. When I get there, I’ll make sure to play every position in the book. But for now, I’ll entertain you. I know this is really rushed but, baby, are you wet?”

Your mouth was dry but your body was flushed. You couldn’t lie to yourself any longer. You loved it when his desperate voice was still as gruff as it was. You loved the way he’d become frenzied with arousal over a few pics. For crying out loud, he was taking a 45-minute drive to your house because of three pictures.

But Izuku. Simple, boring, good-two-shoe, Izuku. He was your boyfriend. You couldn’t let Bakugo bust in here and take you—no matter how much you wanted him to.

Besides, were you going to let the same man that broke your heart reclaim the pieces just because you were horny?

You sighed.

“Look, Bakugo. I would really appreciate it if you just deleted the pictures and forgot about it.” You gave a distorted chuckle. “Or you could delete it and make fun of me for the next twenty years. Anything, you want.”

“I want you prince/ss—“

You hissed at the nickname.

“Baby…”—you couldn’t even be bothered to stress over the pet name—"Please go back. From what I hear, you're breaking twenty-five state laws and twenty-four federal ones. It’s two in the morning and we both have to be at work in five hours. And I don’t wanna deal with the paparazzi if they catch you here. So go back home. For me?”

Choice words flew from his lips. Then there was the sound of tires screeching to a halt. Bakugo heavily exhaled.

“Damn you, Y/N. You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”

Relief came as a nervous chuckle. You placed your hand on your chest. “Thank you and, again, I’m so sorry. We can laugh about this later today. And—“

“But you still haven’t answered my question.”

You inhaled sharply at the curt tone of his voice.

“W-what question?”

“Are you wet?”

[avengerscompound]

The Hamptons’ House: 2003 - 1

The Hamptons’ House:  A Iron Man Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a coffee with Ko-fi Word Count: 2511

Pairing:  Tony Stark x F!Reader

Warnings:  Smut (MFFF bisexual fourway, oral sex, vaginal sex, daisy chain, face sitting, come play)

Synopsis: You and Tony meet up again for your week again.  You both look forward to spending the time together,  but when it becomes clear Tony’s life is spiraling out of control, you wonder how many more of these meetups you’re going to get.

2003: Part 1

It was strange how as you got older the time between parties seemed to be getting shorter.  Three years was three years yet somehow as you turned your rental car into the driveway of Tony’s Hamptons’ house it felt like you’d only left a few weeks ago.

Not that a lot hadn’t happened in those years.  A lot had happened, but the time might have flown by so fast simply due to half of it being experienced in that half-awake, living zombie phase of new parenthood.

Brody was born on the tenth of February 2001.  While you and Kurt had been thrown into the life of new parenthood, the world had been thrown into turmoil thanks to terrorist attacks and the now named ‘war on terror’.  Stark Industries were booming because of it and he was now listed as one of the top ten richest people on the planet.  Not that that had changed very much.  He had always been obscenely rich but he was still just your Tony.

When you sent him an email telling him about Brody’s birth with photos attached he’d sent you the biggest bouquet you'd ever seen with a blue teddy bear that had Brody and his date of birth embroidered on the foot.

You put the car into park and got out, grabbing your bag from the back.  It was still very early.  A catering van sat at the door and people were unloading things from it under the watchful eye of Happy and the DJ had his station wagon parked beside your ford focus rental, unloading his equipment.

You made your way to the door and Happy grinned at you when he saw you.  “Hey, Cookie,” he said, greeting you with a kiss on the cheek.  “You're early.”

“Yeah, my flight just got in,” you said.  “Figured Tony wouldn't mind if I came early and used his shower.”

Some caterers squeezed passed you holding large trays of vegetables and Happy tickets something off a chart.  “The boss is in his room, I'm sure he won't care if you go straight up.”

“Thanks, Hap,” you said, heading inside.  “It’s good to see you.”

As you passed through the hall you saw Tony’s assistant Pepper overseeing the restocking of the bar.  He had been so sure she hated him and yet three years on and she was still working for him.

You went through the kitchen and up the secret staircase.  Tony was hunched over his desk that looked out over the ocean working on a circuit board.  He was wearing socks and a robe and beside him was an open bottle of Glenfiddich beside an almost empty glass.

You dropped your bag by the bed and approached him.  He was so absorbed in what he was doing he hadn’t even looked up.  You ran your hands over his shoulders and wrapped them around him.

“Woah…” Tony yelped and spun around, making you jump back a little to avoid getting kicked.  “Cookie!  You’re early!”

“I am,” you said.  “You gonna beat me up?”

“You surprised me,” he said, taking your hand and pulling you closer.  “I thought one of the cleaners was trying to get fresh with me.”

You straddled his lap and he ran his hands up your back as he looked up at you.  “Nope, just me.  What are you doing?”

“Oh,” he said looking over his shoulder.  “I’ve been working on creating an AI that can run the house.  I had an idea for it, and I thought I’d see if I could work on it here, but this stuff is all 15 years old.  So then I was looking at one of the things I was working on fifteen years ago…”  He shook his head.  “You know what?  I have no idea.  Where’s Kurt?”

“He’s taken Brody to his parents for the week,” you answered.  There had been talk about both of you coming again, but Brody was only two and so far, while you’d had nights off where you had someone babysitting, you’d never had any time off alone and Kurt had only had a few work trips that had taken him out of town.  You didn’t want to waste your first week away together, not actually together.

“Brody?”  Tony asked.

“Yeah,” you said, furrowing your brow.   “You know?  My son?  The one I had about nine months after I last saw you?”

“Whoa…”  Tony said, that same shock in his voice as when you’d come up behind him.  He pushed you off his lap and got up and started pacing.  “Wait?  You… we… is he…”  He stopped and looked at you and you tried not to break down into hysterical laughter.  “Is he?”

“Tony,” you said, shaking your head and trying to sound somber.

“Oh my god,” Tony said, running his hands through his hair.  “He is, isn't he?  He’s mine?”

You couldn’t hold it.  You burst out laughing and came over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist.  “I was pregnant when you last saw me.  Remember?  I was throwing up every day?”

“Oh… yeah, right,” Tony said, leaning into you slightly.  “I completely forgot.  You sent pictures right?”

“Yes, I did,” you said, poking his side.  “And you sent me flowers.”

“Well, to be fair,” Tony said, running his hands up your back.  “That was Pepper.”

“You’re the worst,” you teased and brought your lips to his.  As you kissed deeply and a little sloppily you became aware exactly why Tony had forgotten about your son.  He tasted strongly of Scotch.  He’d been drinking a lot last time too, it was likely that anything that didn’t affect his day-to-day life was being shuffled into a part of his brain he didn’t access much.

He pulled back and spanked your ass.  “Why are you here so early?”

“Just when the plane got in,” you said.  “I thought I’d grab some lunch, have a nap, and then get ready for the party.  I have the sluttiest dress packed.”

Tony smirked.  “That’s what I like to hear,” he teased.  “Let’s do it.  This place is as much yours as it is mine these days.”

After you napped you took a shower and came out in your towel to find Pepper helping Tony with a pair of cufflinks and going through the list of things he’d wanted at the party.  She looked over to you and smiled before focussing her attention back on Tony.  “The cleaners will be here tomorrow morning, then you’ll have one come through every day until you leave.  On the last day they’ll come and clean and pack up the house,” she said.

“Thank you, Pepper,” Tony said.  “What would I do without you.”

“Starve in your own filth?”  She teased.  “Okay, you two.  Have fun.  I’ll be in Cabo.  So don’t call me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Tony said.  “Enjoy yourself.”

Pepper headed back down the stairs and you started to get ready, starting with doing your hair.  “Come on, slowpoke, we have an orgy to attend.”

“You just sit tight,” you teased.  “You’re gonna get your dick sucked soon enough.”

Tony burst out laughing and flopped down on the edge of the bed, watching as you got ready.

“You’re putting a bra on?”  Tony asked as you put on your matching black lace thong and bra.

“Gravity has started to betray me, Tony,” you said.

“I’m just going to take it off,” he teased.

You laughed and stepped into your dress.  It was loose fit and asymmetrical in shimmering silver and black fabric.  You paired it with a strappy silver heel and Tony got up off the bed.  “Finally!”  He huffed, offering you his elbow.

You giggled and hooked his arm through his and the two of you went downstairs.  The party was in full swing when the two of you entered and there were shouts of ‘happy birthday’ to Tony as he made his way to the bar.  It was just a party so far.  People were drinking and dancing.  A large group had already collected around the pool and a handful were swimming.

Tony got himself a Macallan neat while you got a cosmo.  You stuck with Tony as he mingled with people.  He was royalty in this group of friends, acquaintances, and people who just wanted a chance to touch celebrity, and because he was royalty, you were royalty by association.  It was a nice feeling but not one you particularly wanted to extend and you wondered why you’d never noticed it until this trip.  Tony had always been the center of attention of course, but it never felt like you were part of that.  Perhaps it was because most of the time you arrived well after the party started.  The guests at these events changed a lot each time, but there were people you recognized and names you knew.  Perhaps people knew that Tony considered you special because it always started with you and him.

As people seemed to start things up and other women began to hang off Tony he pulled you close to him and brought his lips to your ear.  “What are we feeling tonight, cookie?”

“It's been a while since I’ve been with another woman,” you said.  “But I'm open to suggestions.”

“Nope,” Tony said and pulled one of the women who had gathered around you closer to him. “Annie, Lilli, shall we?”

The two women closest to him giggled and Annie took hold of Tony’s tie and led him to one of the downstairs bedrooms. She pulled him close and began to undress him as Tony kissed her neck and ran his hands up under your skirt.

You and Lilli turned to each other and began to kiss and slowly undress each other.  Not that there was too much to undress.  You were both completely naked before Tony even had his pants off.

The two of you moved to the bed and you guided her back on the mattress as you kissed her deeply.  You each ground on the other’s thigh as your tongues circled together.  Annie pushed Tony down on the bed and kneeled between his legs pulling his cock free from his pants.  You slowly began to crawl down Lilli’s body, kissing a trail down her skin as you moved further and further down.  You paused at her breasts, sucking and biting at her nipples as you rolled your hips on her thigh.  She mewled and arched her back, grabbing the headboard as her cunt flooded and smeared on your skin.  When both her nipples were like hard pebbles you moved down lower.

You kissed along her hips and flattened your tongue, running it up her cunt.  The tart musk of her sex filled your senses and your both moaned in unison.  Tony lay back on the bed, his head landing between your legs, and began to suck hungrily on your cunt.  You groaned into Lilli’s pussy, keeping your focus on her, drinking up her juices as she rocked against your face.  The four of you formed a chain down the bed, beginning with Lilli as she gripped the headboard and writhed under you and ending with Annie who was bobbing her head up and down on Tony’s cock.  You pushed two fingers inside of her and began to fuck her with them.  She dripped for you, her arousal ran from her, down your wrist in rivulets.  You drank up what you could and as your fingers worked over the soft spongy spot inside her, her walls began to spasm around your fingers.  Her moans got louder, drowning out the muffled moans you made into your cunt.

With a loud cry and a jerk of her hips, she came on your face.  You sat up and climbed off of Tony’s face.  He looked up at you with a smirk and took Annie’s hand and guided her up.  “Ladies,” he said.  “Start without me.”

The three of you formed a daisy chain on the bed, your head between Annie’s legs, Lilli’s between yours, and Annie’s between Lilli’s.  As the three of you began to suck and finger each other’s cunts, Tony moved around the edge of the bed, watching closely as he pumped his cock.  He grabbed a condom from the bowl and rolled it on as the three of you brought each other closer and closer to the edge.

Your senses were overwhelmed.  It was like they were all being stimulated at once, with the scent and taste of Annie’s cunt, the sounds of their moans, and the way Lilli was expertly working your g-spot.  Tony moved up behind you and Lilli pulled away from your cunt and started sucking his cock.  You moaned needily into Annie’s cunt and bucked your hips.  A moment later, Tony’s cock was pressed at your entrance and he thrust hard inside you.  You gasped and dug your fingers into Annie’s thighs from the sudden intrusion.  Annie began to rock her pussy on your face as you lapped at her clit eagerly and thrust two fingers inside you.  As Tony fucked your cunt, Lilli sucked on your clit.

You began to fall apart between them.  Your whole body buzzed and your clit began to twitch.  Your breath became more and ragged and your head became fuzzy and with a loud cry, you came hard, bucking back against Tony.

Tony pulled out and moved around to Annie, changing condoms as he did.  He thrust into her and began fucking her hard.  You kept flicking your tongue around the base of his cock and her clit.  She was already close before Tony began to fuck her and it wasn’t long before her muscles started tensing and her legs began to shake.  Tony’s breath was coming in labored and you spanked his ass as you nipped at Annie’s clit.  She cried out loudly and came, her whole body shuddering with it.

Tony pulled out and moved again and this time you and Annie did too.  You both sat on either side of Lilli and as you leaned down and began to lick at her clit, Annie sucked and bit at  Lilli’s breasts.  Lilli rolled her hips in time with the thrust of Tony’s hips and arched her back off the mattress.

“Fuck,” Tony groaned.  “You girls are so fucking hot.”

“Cum on my tits, Mister Stark,” Lilli begged, reaching up and holding his wrist.

His hips began to stutter and you focused on her clit, rubbing it harder to bring her along too.  She jerked up and cried out, gushing around Tony’s cock.  Tony pulled out and tossed the condom aside as he jerked his cock hard and with a groan, he came in hot ribbons over Lilli’s tits.

She hummed happily and ran her fingers through the mess and Annie leaned in and licked it up.

Tony smirked at you and held out his hand.

“Cake?”  You asked as you let him help you to your feet.

“You know me so well,” he chuckled and pulled you into a deep kiss.

// NEXT

[nyisles]

Magic in the Hamptons

Part Three 

part one | part two  

Player: Mathew Barzal 

Words: 3,333 ….. Crazy right ? 

Warnings: language

Notes: i’m sorry it takes me so long to do this? Like chapter one was my favorite so nothing really compares... but please let me know what you think (your opinions are what motivate me to write tbh) 

           It was the next morning when you decided what you were going to do, at least for now. You were ignoring the text, leaving it on the back burner you had to do something worse, something your head told you not to do, but you just couldn’t help it. It didn’t even take you five minutes to find her on instagram. You went to Mat’s profile (aside from clicking the follow button) you clicked on who he was following and searched her name. There was only one Whitney, and it made your stomach turn. The profile was picture perfect, but what did you expect. You had cursed to yourself that her profile was public. Photo after photo was of her either on some lovely vacation, or her living her “best life”. The captions were clever and it was like she was some perfectly curated girl. You looked nothing like her, you two had nothing in common and a month ago… maybe even less time than that she was Mat’s girl or at least the girl that Mat wanted the most, so how could he even be interested in you? “Okay, okay, relax.” you muttered to yourself as you scrolled further and further into her feed trying to find any photo that showed she was human. A pimple, a piece of hair out of place or something, anything. Reaching the bottom of her page, you had nothing left to say. She was perfect, and you were being nothing short of dramatic. What the hell were you supposed to say to Mat now? ‘Just went through your ex’s instagram, maybe you should hit her up.’ Settling down your phone you decided you needed some space, you didn’t have much to say to Mat right now. It was a simple ‘hey’ text that you couldn’t answer. Especially not while you were feeling down in the dumps about yourself. 

           Over the next few days you slowly came to your senses, Mat didn’t owe you an explanation and in reality you knew him for all of five minutes. So you didn’t really think you even needed to text him back. Were you really going to text him to get some phony explanation, like ‘hey sorry my friend said that. Maybe we can hang out again?’. Opening your phone, you did answer Reese’s text message. Somehow through work he’d managed to get you and some of your other college friends Post Malone tickets. You were honestly excited, it’d been a while since your friend group could fully get together between work and living in mostly different cities. This was the perfect distraction from any boy that was taking up too much of your thoughts. Your group of girls decided to go all out for this, and you were dressed up in your favorite ‘going out’ look. They were able to give you just the right amount of hyping up and took a lot of photos as you all got ready together. “I definitely look better than Whitney in this.” you muttered, after adding a few filters to the photo. “(Y/N), we are not going there.. We told you ten times already you were great regardless of some other girl.” Your friend Kate shouted, giving you a slight push. “Please drink a beer, and let it go.” 

           Which was exactly what you had done. Your tickets landed the group at some open bar before the show and you just had to take advantage. It was like being back in college again. Reese was back flirting with your former roommate, Lauren. His former roommates and your best guy friends, Nate and Grant, were ordering pitchers for the group, while Kate sat next to you doing her best to ask you about your job, and anything that didn’t involve Mat. It took all of five minutes of being together for you to spill your story, so she was keen on keeping you distracted and you appreciated it, but you knew what she was doing. You’d quickly lost count of your drinks after a few beers. God you were a lightweight. “Shots for everyone!” You yelled looking at the two girls and four guys surrounding you. Had you forget to mention that Reese’s friend, James, was also in town. James was someone you’d lusted after in college, but never really felt confident in yourself to truly go for it. James was probably the polar opposite of Mat. Blonde hair, blue eyes, tall and lanky. Conventionally he was exactly your type, but maybe your type had changed since going to college. Breaking your stare from James, you locked eyes with Reese. He had a scared look in his eyes after you suggested the shots, as if he knew you wouldn’t survive the night. Though being the good former frat boy he was, he accepted the shots and handed them out to the rest of the group. “(Y/N), let’s cheers to being safe tonight.” He jokingly yelled out as a few of your friends let out some cheers and whoops in the background. Rolling your eyes, you downed the shot letting it sting in the back of your throat. The night was becoming hazy, but not to a point where you felt you needed to stop or slow down. It was that perfect amount of fun. 

           Breaking off in little groups, you sat on a couch with your girls gossiping about how drunk the boys were getting and how horrible their dance moves were becoming. “You know, James is looking pretty good tonight, (Y/N).” Lauren whispered into your ear after she’d realized you had gotten that perfect buzz and would finally act courageous enough to flirt properly with the boy. The last time you felt like this, you were at the wedding. Maybe that’s why your original night with Mat had worked out so well, you were just drunk enough to shoot your shot with the most beautiful boy you’d come across. That blue suit, the way his hair was styled....your mind wandered until realized you were on a bad trail. Stop thinking about Mat, you mentally reminded yourself. He wasn’t here with you tonight, but James was. You had a more real shot with James. He had a good job in the city, he never was one to play with a girl’s feelings and he had that ‘take me home to meet your mom’ - personality. 

           Arriving at your seats for the concert, the girls had made it so you they were on one side of you while James was next to you on the other side. You had appreciated it, but at the same time, you weren’t enjoying it as much as you thought you would. James was fun, and was making little jokes and putting a smile on your face, but he just wasn’t that stupid hockey player you’d grown to like a little more than you should’ve. He didn’t tease you like Mat had on your dates, and he didn’t give you much excitement talking to him. Instead of blaming it on being interested in someone else, you decided that it was just based on life. You weren’t in college anymore and your taste in men had changed. Though he did however manage to keep your buzz alive by running and getting you drinks. It seemed as though he was really flirting and you didn’t have the time of day for him. Funny how the world worked. 

           The next thing you knew, you were taking countless embarrassing videos of you and the girls singing to Post Malone. You could see a little glimmer in Reese’s eye from a few seats away as he looked at you, maybe like he was a little bit proud you were able to have so much fun, since he was clearly notorious for getting you into trouble. Taking what you thought was a hot photo of you and the girls, you posted it to your instagram story tagging the location ‘Post Malone at Madison Square Garden’. Normally you didn’t give your stories a second thought, you looked good, you were having fun, who cared? Wrong. Always wrong. 

@barzal97 replied to your story: ah, you’re here too? I have a box, let’s meet up.

           Maybe you were drunk, maybe this was a sign from some higher power that you were supposed to talk to Mat again. You screeched when you looked through your profile notifications noticing that he had followed you days ago, probably after you had followed him. Opening the dm, you pulled Kate over to you shoving your phone in her face. In this moment you were so thankful you had someone that wasn’t Reese to give you boy advice. The look on her face changed as she grabbed your phone, scrolling through his profile. An eyebrow raised, as she gave you the phone back, “You forgot to mention Mat was that good looking. (Y/N), why are you even concerning yourself with some other girl when this boy is trying to reach out to you. Now on multiple platforms. Please answer him.” Well that wasn’t what you were expecting her to say. “You’re young, hot, and you should just go home with him.” You let out a ridiculous laugh shaking your head no, letting your cheeks flush at the thought of going home with Mat. It was too soon, a day ago you thought it was over. 

@(your user name): no way! where should i meet you?

@barzal97: elevators at the front of the garden to the 2nd floor, i’ll come grab ya.

            “Hey (Y/N), wanna go to the bar and help grab some drinks with me? I only have two hands and this time Reese wants something.” James asked you politely bringing your eyes away from your phone screen momentarily. He was trying to spend some alone time with you and although it was so sweet, you weren’t interested. Your girlfriends had put bad ideas into your mind that you were now going home with Mat Barzal, and you were clearly under the influence so you were swayed by their words. It sucked, but in all honesty James didn’t stand a chance. “Uh, I actually have to go to the bathroom. I’ll see ya in a few though?” You suggested to him with a smile, not having the heart to tell him you were going to see a boy who you were more interested in. You were on one hand thankful James had kept you the perfect amount of buzzed. Grabbing your purse off the seat below you, you sent a wink over to the girls who sent you little cheers as you practically sprinted out to the arena to the lobby to find the elevators Mat was talking about. 

           It didn’t take long to find Mat, in fact you were a lot closer to his box than you had originally thought. He was waiting for you by the elevators with security, letting them know you were with him. You were starting to get a bit nervous, and maybe the alcohol was wearing off because you were hyper aware of the way you were walking. Definitely not in a straight line, but you weren’t stumbling either. You had hoped and prayed Mat didn’t notice. It took him a minute to peel away from his conversation with the security guard to fully notice you had approached him, he was in a much more casual look than you were. Joggers, a plain white tee, a denim shirt and a baseball cap covering his messy black hair, but he still managed to rock it. You were almost certain this boy could show up to a black tie event in a garbage bag and still impress you. Maybe it was just part of his charm. Pulling you in for a hug he grinned. You hugged back noticing how your heeled booties didn’t even seem to make a dent in your height difference, the boy was just big. “Good to see you, not gonna lie I was bummed you never texted me back.” Mat said letting you go, to look you in the eyes with a small smirk playing on his face as if he caught you. 

           “To be totally fair, you waited three weeks to text me after the wedding.” you immediately quipped back, it was one of the one liners you had been practicing in case you were to ever see him again, and it just so happened to work perfectly in this situation. Seeing his reaction made it worth it, he scrunched his face up and just ended up with a shrug and laugh. “Well I’m glad you’re here. Some of the guys and I have a box, just a perk of being a rockstar in New York. Not a big deal.” Taking your hand in his, he led you back into the elevator to take you the the boxed seats. It was all very fancy, and of course butterflies immediately returned to your stomach when he didn’t let go of your hand as the two of you silently rode to the second floor. 

           Opening the door to the boxed seating, all you could think about was how much money this had to cost, and how you now were running with this NHL crowd. Some of the faces in the room were familiar. Grace sitting on a couch talking to Megan with their husbands close by at the minibar. Both had excitedly giving you a wave, you made a mental note to go over and say hello. Tito was there talking to a girl around your age, you assumed it was his girlfriend. “Let me properly introduce you to some people you don’t know.” Mat said throwing his arm around your shoulder now leading you over to where Tito was. Mat clearing his throat he caught the attention of both Tito and the girl. “Tito, Emma, this is (Y/N). Please don’t scare her away.” 

           “Nice to meet you both.” You smiled softly trying not to give Tito any sort of dagger eyes, but at the same time, you should’ve been thankful Tito was able to give you some insight. “I love your shoes, Tito you’ve got a very stylish girl.” The three people just laughed hysterically as an older man you’d never seen before came over wrapping an arm around Emma’s waist, handing her a drink and kissing her temple. Your face immediately drained of any color, you were properly embarrassed. “What’s so funny?” the man said looking at everyone else’s faces. “Barz, you going to introduce me to your girl or what?” He said noticing you standing tucked under Mat’s arm. “Derick, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Derick. Newer to our team, so we don’t really like him that much.” Mat said jokingly as you smiled politely giving him a nod. 

           “Can we get a drink, I am properly embarrassed.” You whispered to Mat as the group started to talk about the concert actually going on behind you. He nodded, probably unsure of how many drinks you had prior, but right now you felt you needed something to take off the edge a bit. After one long sip, you realized Mat had made you a ridiculously strong drink. The little bit of sobering up you had done seemed to be slowly fading away. “Hey, let’s watch the concert. This is my favorite song.” Mat said topping off his drink, motioning for you to do the same. You quickly did the same, feeling the same burning returning in the back of your throat from the alcohol. Looking around most of the team was using this concert as a way to just hang out, sit on the couches and drink, so you and Mat made your way to the front of the box, leaning against the railing watching the show. “I love this song too.” You mumbled slowly moving your hips to the beat. 

           Mat looked over noticing you do a little dance, as he did the same so you both were dancing. It wasn’t like anyone was really paying much attention to either of you acting silly. He took your hands in his doing some sort of odd dance you’d do with your dad where he just twisted you back and forth. It made you both giggle, but it was sweet. As the music slowed down to a different song, he pulled you in closer so you both swayed back and forth as if you were at the prom dancing to a slow song. “You look really beautiful tonight.” Mat said softly just over the music. “I’m glad you were here tonight. It’s like the universe knew. I was too nervous to hit you with a double text.” Your face flushed as you hid your face in the crook of his neck. “Mat, shut up.”

           “Hey, be nice to me. I said a kind thing.” He said back to you with a chuckle as you continued to sway along to the song. “Mathew, you’re so kind to me, but my feet are starting to hurt can we sit down for a second.” Letting go of you, he pointed over to a couple of seats and you followed his lead over there. As soon as you sat down, Grace and Megan swarmed you handing you another strong drink as Mat excused himself for a moment to use the bathroom or talk to Derick or something you didn’t quite catch. “(Y/N), you look really hot. No wonder Mat was showing us your instagram story seeing if he should invite you up.” Megan said with a chuckle. “Thank God he listened to us, we were starting to get worried he scared you away after the wedding.”

           “Not totally scared, at least not yet.” You said jokingly. “I’m impressed with his game. If you guys aren’t dating by Christmas I’ll be so disappointed.” Grace said making you blush a little, but you didn’t want to take what she said too seriously. He was just with Whitney, or at least was recently seeing her in a way that dating you by Christmas would really be jumping the gun. Maybe the girls were just trying to be polite because maybe Mat had brought around some other girl and they were secretly rooting for you more than her. Right before you could answer Mat swooped back in with a refill for your empty drink. “Grace, Megan, I must steal your friend. We have a concert to watch.” Taking your free hand Mat took you back to the railing where you could finish watching the concert, this time without your shoes on. Time went on and both of you continued to dance along to the songs, his arm wrapped around your waist as he stood behind you to watch. 

           “Hey, I hope you’re having fun with me.” You spoke softly between songs, not fully noticing the drunken state you were slowly succumbing to. “I appreciate the invite up here.” Mat looked over, somehow in the dim lighting of the arena, you could still make out his green eyes and it seemed like they were looking into your soul. “(Y/N), I have a lot of fun with you.”

          ��And then your mind said exactly what you were thinking because the drinks had caught up and suddenly your filter was gone. “Let’s get out of here, I want you to take me to your place.” You said as seductively as you could which probably sounded ridiculous at this point. For once, you saw Mat’s face turn a light shade of pink, was he blushing? “Yeah, we could do that.” And that’s went it all went dark. Truly that’s all you can remember for the rest of the night. It was a bit alarming when you’d woken up in a strange bed, looking down at yourself seeing you were in an islanders t-shirt ten sizes too big and some sweatpants that also didn’t quite fit right.

           Oh fuck. 

[savagefm-blog]

          it  looks  like  KIM  CHUNGHA  has  stepped  off  of  their  private  jet  and  into  the  hamptons  –  oh  wait ,  that’s  actually  ARIANA  LIM  !  word  on  the  street  is  you’re  TWENTY - THREE  &  CISFEMALE ,  preferring  to  go  by  SHE / HER  pronouns .  don’t  worry ,  your  mansion  has  been  waiting  for  your  return  from  CHELSEA ,  NEW  YORK ,  so  we  do  hope  you’ll  stay  for  a  while .  it  seems  like  everyone  who  knows  you  best  loves  you  for  being  DEXTEROUS  &  POISED ,  but  god  !  your  SALACIOUS  &  VIRULENT  tendencies  can  be  such  a  turn  off .  either  way  it  goes ,  everyone  on  instagram  likes  to  associate  you  with  CARTIER  RINGS  STACKED  ON  NIMBLE  FINGERS ,  RED  WINE  STAINS  ON  WHITE  COUCHES ,  AND  DESIGNER  CLOTHES  PILED  ON  THE  FLOOR .  (  kyrie ,  22 ,  eastern ,  she / her  and  cancer  and  gore .  )

          hi  babies  !  it’s  admin  kyrie  here  ready  to  introduce  you  guys  to  my  absolute  mess  of  all  messes ,  ariana  !  please  forgive  me  for  how  late  this  intro  is  --  i’m  usually  more  prepared  than  this .  honestly ,  i  have  no  idea  why  i  named  her  that  other  than  the  fact  like  i  love  ari  as  a  nickname ,  so  there  we  have  it .  i’ve  been  REALLY  wanting  to  play  chungha  lately  (  stream  snapping  )  and  her  blonde  hair  makes  me  melt ,  so  here’s  my  lady  love  !  please  don’t  roast  me  too  bad  since  this  intro  might  get  a  little  lengthy  since  ariana  is  like  ...  brand  brand  new ,  but  i  look  forward  to  writing  and  plotting  with  everyone  and  thank  you  so  much  for  joining  ! 

BIRTH NAME : lim ah-jeong.

AMERICAN NAME : ariana lim.

PREFERRED NAME : ariana lim.

NICKNAME(S) : ari.

AGE : twenty-three.

BIRTHDATE / ZODIAC : january 10, 1996. / capricorn.

RELIGION : roman catholic ( non-practicing ).

SEXUALITY : sexually fluid.

HOMETOWN : chelsea, new york.

NATIONALITY : korean-american.

ETHNICITY : korean.

OCCUPATION : socialite and heiress.

VIRTUES : commendable, systematic, dexterous, articulate, poised, and warmhearted.

VICES : duplicitous, menacing, salacious, hedonistic, virulent, and labyrinthine.

LANGUAGE(S) : korean, english, and conversational japanese.

          since she was born on a cold, winter day in january, ariana lim has had a silver spoon in her mouth. in that hospital room were her parents: the ethereal bo-young and handsomely talented jung-sik lim were welcoming their first and only baby into the world, and the media outside were desperate to get the first glimpse of the power couple’s pride and joy. bo-young is the sole heir of a billion dollar jewelry fortune ( think swarovski or harry winston ) who was raised primarily in seoul, sk. bo-young did as expected of her, going to college so she could someday take over the family business, but considering that her grandfather was still the head of operations, bo-young could do whatever she wanted. 

          the then twenty-three year old joined an entertainment company and debuted in one of the top-watched k-dramas of that year. that was the beginning and end of bo-young’s acting career -- she found more joy in posing for advertisements and on magazine covers, so after starring as the cover star for vogue korea, bo-young’s career began to really take off. twenty-five and on top of the world, all it took was attending a single industry party for her to meet her soulmate : soccer midfielder lim jung-sik. 

          jung-sik was the object of everyone’s affection. unlike bo-young, he was born to a poor family in daegu -- the family wasn’t below the poverty line, but they were definitely living paycheck to paycheck. despite this, jung-sik’s parents made sure that their son had the opportunities that he deserved, so they paid for his soccer lessons even if meant borrowing money or taking up second jobs. the lim family owned and operated their own moderately successful restaurant, but it definitely didn’t pay all of the bills. so, jung-sik grew up with the all too common mentality that once he made his wealth, he’d reward his parents.

          after years of diligence, practice, and working at his parents’ restaurant, jung-sik finally got his big break while playing for a minor league team. a manager for the jeonbuk hyundai motors team had come to one of his games for a bit of leisure with his family, and jung-sik’s skills stood out to the manager. the two made contact after the game, and about a year after negotiations began, jung-sik made his debut on the team. jung-sik played for the team non-stop until his military service, and once he returned is when he came into contact with model and heiress park bo-young.

          bo-young and jung-sik’s relationship came under a bit of scrutiny due to how quickly the two had gotten married, just eight months after their initial meeting. their wedding was big, loud, and lavish, which was expected. the two adorned glamorous custom rings from bo-young’s family’s business and soon decided to move from seoul to new york, where bo-young had signed to img models and jung-sik transferred to the us men’s national team ( and they SUCK but it is what it is ). after a few years of living the good life, bo-young and jung-sik welcomed their baby girl, ah-jeong ‘ ariana ’ lim into the world.

          growing up, ariana was something of a handful. she has always been outspoken to the point of being rude at times, but she knew how to charm the pants off of her parents. in their eyes, she could do no wrong. due to that mentality, ariana had a way of getting away with some of the negative things that she had done during her time in school. attending some of the best schools that manhattan had to offer, ariana went to school with the children of actors/actresses, politicians, debutantes, musicians and everyone in between, so it’s safe to say that she ran in some pretty wealthy social circles.

          while she was in school, it was clear that ariana ran her school like a little tyrant, and i use that term loosely. she was mean to her classmates and nice to the administrators, often messing with other students who might have been wearing something off season. ariana saw no wrong in what she was going, as she was childish and immature during that time. she knew how to fake tears to get what she wanted and all it took was her faking those tears or mentioning all of the great things she had done ( like winning debate team championships or being the captain of her school’s varsity cheer team ) and she was given just a bit of a warning.

          after graduating from high school, ariana found herself wrapped up in a whirlwind summer romance with malaki sterling ( @malakitm ). their love was something new, something wild, and something pure. so pure, in fact, that all it took was a drunken night at a club for the two of them to become engaged. the night was wild and ridiculously overwhelming, but in the best of ways. since she wasn’t proposed to with a ring, ariana went and got malaki’s initials tattooed on her ring finger ( which she still has to this day ). so, the wedding day comes -- she’s surrounded by her best friends while she slipped into her custom gown and veil that could rival that of meghan markle’s when a close friend of the two barged into the room just as ‘ here comes the bride ’ was expected to begin and declares ‘ he’s gone ! ’ 

          ariana gets left at the alter. her wedding had been the talk of the town, she had even been featured on the cover of vogue, but here she was storming around the venue ready to punch anything she could get her hands on, and eventually sobbing in a small diner surrounded by bodyguards to protect her from the paparazzos that wanted to get a glimpse of the heartbroken girl. after she takes the trip that was supposed to be their honeymoon, ariana doesn’t immediately return home to chelsea. instead, she makes the decision to visit the family’s vacation home in southampton, which has since become something of a tradition.

          now, ariana has never been a huge fan of the country club, but her parents like the status they have while being a part of it. so, when the cat was pulled out of the bag about the harrington family, ariana was the least bit surprised. she always had a feeling that the harrington family was a little too ... out of place. so she never went out of her way to befriend the harrington children. anyways, since she originally came to the hamptons, ariana has made it her mission to come out especially since being in the hamptons works well with her socialite-esque lifestyle.

          tl;dr: ariana is a woman who has everything, almost to the point that she doesn’t know what else she could possibly want. since her break up with malaki, ariana has sworn off romantic relationships and has no interest in sparking up something with anyone, although she can be quite promiscuous at times. she’s definitely the steal your man/woman type and despite her outward appearance, the one that the media loves, ariana can at the very least be described as mean-spirited. she can be friendly when she wants to be, but for the most part she’s very sharp tongued and can be very short for no reason.

[lnd-hq]

MILES STANDISH & PRISCILLA MULLINS & JOHN ALDEN

Years active: 1621--1687

                                  MILES...

     Miles Standish was a soldier stationed in Holland when he became introduced to the Pilgrims there. The English group had left their home country in their plight to separate themselves from the Church of England. This produced tensions with the Church, naturally, and the Pilgrims fled to Holland for their own safety.

     When the Pilgrims heard about the New World, they knew that they wanted to permanently settle there. Deciding they needed a good military soldier on board, Miles Standish was hired, and he and his wife, Rose, left for the New World with the Pilgrims on their ship called the Mayflower. The New World was full of enemies and dangers: Native Americans, other European competitors such as the French and Spanish, wild animals, and diseases.

     Miles led all the exploratory missions searching for a place to settle after they hit the New England coast, and established Plymouth. Rose later died along with half of the original settlers during the great wave of illness in the winter months.

                               PRISCILLA...

     Though there’s little known about Priscilla, herself, it is known that she was born in Dorking in Surrey, the daughter of William and step-daughter of Alice Mullins. She was just eighteen when she boarded the Mayflower. She lost her father, step-mother and her brother Joseph during the first winter in Plymouth. She was then the only one of her family in the New World, although she had another brother and a sister who remained in England. This undoubtedly took a great, emotional toll on her. With two marriages passed, Priscilla remained to be the only single woman of marriageable age.

                             JOHN...

     John came from the sea-faring Alden family living in Harwich, Essex, England. His family was related, by marriage, to Christopher Jones, who was the captain of the Mayflower. John Alden was hired to be a barrel maker at South-Hampton, where the ship was docked. John joined along in their voyage to the New World, though he had intended just to make the voyage and then planned to return to England after seeing after business. However, he decided to stay. 

                            LOVE NEVER DIES...

     After the death of his wife, Miles Standish was left with an unhappily empty spot, something he intended to fill with Priscilla, the only woman of marriageable age left in the Plymouth colony after the harsh winter months passed. However, although Standish was fearless in battle, he was too shy to confront Mullins directly; he was a man of action, not words. The blunt captain sent his young friend, John Alden, to make his case to Priscilla.

     Thus, John Alden went and sought her out. She, upon his arrival, told him that she had been thinking of him and knew that he would make a visit. He was delighted to hear that she thought of him, but even so, faithfully communicated the wishes of the captain in a very courteous and prepossessing manner. Priscilla listened with respectful attention, enchanted by John, who was said to be considerably handsome--and, namely, Priscilla’s own age, unlike Captain Standish. 

     At last, after a considerable pause, she famously replied to him, “Why do you not speak for yourself?” He blushed, and bowed, and took his leave, but with a look, which indicated more than his modesty would permit him otherwise to express. However, he soon renewed his visit, and it was not long before it was Priscilla and John who were locked in courtship, not Priscilla and Miles.

     Naturally, this caused some tension, given that John and Miles were not only friends, but roommates. It was clear that Alden and Mullins were in love, but the couple was afraid of offending Standish. Even so, they were wed in 1622. 

     Likely a combination of his practical skills as a cooper and carpenter, and his young wife Priscilla's substantial inheritance of company shares, John Alden quickly rose up to become a prominent member of the Plymouth Colony. He was elected an assistant to the governor as early as 1631 and was regularly reelected.

     John Alden, along with Miles Standish and several other Plymouth Colonists, founded the town of Duxbury to the north of Plymouth. Alden served the town of Duxbury as deputy to the Plymouth Court throughout the 1640s, and served on several committees and sat on several Councils of War.  About 1653, he built the Alden House, which is still standing and is maintained by the Alden Kindred of America.

     By the 1660s, John and Priscilla Alden had a growing family of ten children. After Priscilla’s death, John died just a few years later, at the age of 89, one of the last surviving Mayflower passengers.

MILES STANDISH is OPEN !  PRISCILLA MULLINS is OPEN ! JOHN ALDEN is OPEN !

[capsicletho]

No More Running

a Steve Rogers x Reader series, written by @stvrktony | chapter 01

genre: romance

trigger: a car accident, but it’s not descriptive.

word count: 1488

author’s note: I was watching age of Adaline a while ago, and I started to realise how slightly similar Adaline and Steve are, so here’s a little something for you guys haha. Let me know what you think! If you want to watch Age of Adaline, you can watch it here. Events start to take place one year after Steve was awaken in the movie.

edit: this is a reposted first chapter, and i amended a few things in this chapter to fit the revamp ideas i had.

summary: reader had lived for a long, long time. the difference between her and cap is that, she was awake and fully aware as she watched decades after decades go by while she looked exactly the same in the mirror. she had to change her name and identity every few decades, losing loved ones, avoiding loved ones, and only owning a few things from her past that would remind her of who she really was. one day, she was met with a man who was a huge part of her old life. 

masterlist | nmr masterlist 

When the clock chimed its twelfth bell, everywhere in New York City was filled with laughter, chiming of glasses, applauds, and the beautiful fireworks lighting up the night sky. It was officially the first day of 1920. Meanwhile, exactly at 00:00 of the same day, your first cry echoed throughout the operating room’s walls. You were the first baby to be born in that year. It only took your mother one look to know that she’d sacrifice anything for you, and your father; well, let’s just say you had him wrapped around your tiny finger.

Your childhood was filled with happiness and utter perfection. Your father’s business prospered and your mother was easily the most loving and caring mother you could ever ask for. She bought you porcelain dolls to play with as she braided your hair and taught you to speak French fluently, just as she does. In time, you were enrolled into one of the best private schools in town, excelling remarkably.

Life seemed to be at your side even as you thrived to become a naturally beautiful and smart woman. Your parents had retired to the Hamptons, but you couldn’t come with them because you have an occupation to be responsible of, and you loved being an art curator dearly. You miss them every single day, but you knew that you would spend every Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years with them and your family.

The year of 1945 was quite different for you. Right after you celebrated your twenty-fifth birthday, you decided that you needed to drive back to New York after you blew out the candles, kept your father away from the third glass of whisky, and made sure your mother enjoyed the cake instead of slaving away in the kitchen to serve your entire family with the best meals.

So out in the cold snow, you decided to drive about three hours back to Manhattan, which was not a problem until the headlights of the car coming from the opposite direction blinded your eyes for a few seconds. But those crucial few seconds had just sealed your fate forever.

Everything happened as if someone was pressing fast forward on a TV screen. Your car rolled off the street and you tried to keep your hands rooted on the roof of your car, but it was quite useless. Before you knew it, the freezing water seeped into your car, causing you to shudder  and everything went pitch black. When you woke up at the hospital two days later with bruises everywhere and a few cracked ribs, people were saying how miraculous it was that you survived.

But as years went by, death sometimes seemed like a better idea. Your bruises and cracked ribs healed, but something did not.

“Morning, Jane,” the receptionist greeted just as you walked into the Guggenheim.

“Good morning,” you replied with a smile, your feet continued pacing against the marble floor towards your office. With all the different aliases that you have been sporting for the last six decades, you were not surprised on how you are improving on quickly adapting to the new name that you will use for the next ten years before you had to change your identity again.

As you sat in your office, you groaned. You had forgotten that your assistant had resigned yesterday to become a full-time housewife, so now nobody is going to fetch you your coffee anymore. Although you told her that she did not have to, but without fail everyday, your assistant brought your coffee for you anyway and you had gotten used to it for the past two years. With a sigh, you stood up and grabbed your handbag, heading out to the streets to the nearest coffee shop, deciding you might as well have breakfast. On the way, your phone rang and so you picked it up and you were immediately engulfed in a conversation with a possible client.

You are Jane Hopkins, well, at least for this decade. You have been an art curator since you came back home to New York from living in Paris the previous decade, and since then the Guggenheim has named you the youngest but most capable art curators that they have. Little did they know, you were actually 92 years old, so of course you knew of all the art history that there is to know between now and then. Not to mention, this was also your job before you stopped aging in 1945.

Ever since the accident you experienced on the night of your 25th birthday, you had never aged a day. No one could’ve explained what was going on with you, and that was why since the day people started to question why you have never aged a day, and when you were captured to become a test subject, you ran away and never stayed in one place for more than ten years. At first you moved around the United States, but even the big country was a small place for someone on the run, so you had to move out of the continent as well. You hadn’t been back in New York for almost thirty years and you’ve decided to come back exactly nine years ago. You were planning to move right before Thanksgiving and everything was coming together perfectly, except for your excuse to quit this wonderful job.

You were about to reach for the coffee shop door when a gentleman from behind you beat you to it and opened the door for you. “Thank you,” you glanced to him and whispered because you were still on the phone. Under his cap, you saw the most mesmerizing blue eyes ever. But you dismissed that quickly and began to walk into the coffee shop when he stopped you by placing his hand on your arm.

“(Y/N)?” He called out your real name. The name you were born with; the name no one from this decade would know of.

Your heart froze as you stared at him, unable to form the words that you need to. For almost seven decades, you’ve never introduced yourself using your real name anymore, so it is quite impossible for anyone from this century to know who you are or call you by your real name.

“I’m sorry, you have the wrong person,” you managed to let out after a person bumped into you as they were trying to get inside the coffee shop. You turned around, deciding against going into the coffee shop and quickly leaving.

“No, I’m sorry, wait,” he said, chasing after you. He got hold of your arm and stopped you again, he was ridiculously strong that you didn’t dare move. “It’s just that you…you look like someone I used to know,” he said.

That moment, you registered who the man was. They all call him Captain America, but to you, he was just Steve Rogers.

You were seven years old, walking down the street on your way to the sweet shop when you heard it. The sound of the metal trashcan in the alley banging here and there and boys shouting around. You peeked at what was going on.

“Hey! Stop it! Get away from him!” You yelled, stomping your flat shoes while your curls bounced as you approached the two boys who seemed to be beating up the skinny boy they had shoved against the pile of trash bags and trashcans. Angry, you shoved one of the boys and they stumbled onto the ground. The other one who appeared to be stronger looked at you, seemingly directing his anger towards you.

“Oh, look, Rogers! There’s your girlfriend,” he mocked.

Your face grew red with anger as you decided to kick the boy’s shins, causing him to exclaim in pain. His friend grabbed him and pulled him to run away. Meanwhile you turned to Steve who had already started to groan.

“Are you okay?” You asked, offering a hand to help him stand. He took it and stood up.

“Yeah, thank you,” he said. He seemed a little embarrassed that a girl was capable to shoo away his bullies more than he can; you can see it through his blue eyes –– they were mesmerizing.

“Where are you going?” You asked, examining the boy who lived just a few houses down from you.

“Uh...the candy shop,” he said.

“That’s where I’m headed too! Come on, we can go together!”

“No, I think…I think I should be going home,” he rejected.

“Oh…okay,” you sounded a little bit more disappointed than you should have. You had been watching Steve from afar in a while, and you have always wanted to get to know him, even if he was two years older than you, he did not seem as intimidating as the other nine-year-olds did –– so of course, you were disappointed that the one chance you finally have to talk to him was not going the way you wanted it to. “Bye, then!” You tried to call out to him, but he was already walking away from you.

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@patzammit @lovelykhaleesiii

[doctorwhonews]

The Lucy Wilson Mysteries: Avatars of the Intelligence + Free Download

Latest from the news site: Candy Jar Books have released details about the history of the first book in their forthcoming spin-off series from Lethbridge-Stewart, The Lucy Wilson Mysteries Independent publisher Candy Jar Books is tackling prejudice against differences and promoting diversity, self-confidence and acceptance for young people, in publishing their latest sci-fi adventure series for children. The series begins with The Lucy Wilson Mysteries: Avatars of the Intelligence. The action-packed adventure story is set in the sleepy Welsh town of Ogmore-by-Sea and features the young, sharp-as-a-tack Lucy Wilson, a London-bred pre-teen with mixed-race parentage, and her perennial side-kick Hobo, a highly intelligent boy with alopecia. The book is written by author Sue Hampton, who was diagnosed with the condition alopecia universalis in 1981 and has since become an ambassador for the charity Alopecia UK. With Sue’s first book, The Waterhouse Girl, inspired by her own experience of learning to live with the sometimes overwhelming condition, Sue feels that it’s incredibly important that young people who feel “different” are positively represented in mainstream fiction, in ways that don’t portray them as “other”. She says: Writing The Waterhouse Girl changed my life, and changed the way I saw my alopecia. I began to feel braver, because my character was dealing with alopecia better than I was. Since then I’ve wanted to write stories where the characters are not defined by their condition, because that’s not what defines me. In Avatars of the Intelligence, Hobo does have alopecia, yes, but he is also loyal, brave and intelligent – all the qualities that Lucy needs in a friend. Through her work with Alopecia UK, Sue visits schools across the UK offering education and support to those in need, and this experience has taught her how big a difference having friends can make to somebody living with a condition like alopecia. A representative for Alopecia UK says: At this time it’s very difficult to say with any certainty just how many children are affected by alopecia, however it’s likely to be thousands rather than hundreds. The Lucy Wilson series acts as a spin-off from Candy Jar’s existing science fiction range of Lethbridge-Stewart novels starring the character from the 1960s classic era of Doctor Who Brigadier Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart, created by Henry Lincoln and Mervyn Haisman and portrayed by Nicholas Courtney in the television series. New protagonist Lucy Wilson is the granddaughter of the Brigadier, and carries the formidable legacy of the Lethbridge-Stewart name along with her. Sue says: Lucy is dauntless, loyal and whip-smart. She’s a modern girl with strong values and opinions, which means that she feels the injustices in the world even more strongly than most and always stands up for what’s right. Avatars of the Intelligence deals with themes that affect many young people, such as feeling like an outsider and being bullied, in a way that Sue hopes will empower and inspire readers. Recent statistics from Childline show that as many as one in six young people experience anxiety-related problems, and in the top five concerns raised in counselling sessions over twelve months were low self esteem, feeling sad, low or lonely and bullying. Lucy Wilson: Avatars of the Intelligence is a celebration of characters who boldly refuse to become victims of their circumstances. Despite the fact that both Hobo and Lucy are initially viewed as outsiders, they find courage and friendship in each other and, together, take on an unseen evil force tormenting their school – the Great Intelligence. Themes of self-acceptance and confidence are further reflected in the cover artwork, created by Beano artist Steve Beckett. Shaun Russell, head of publishing at Candy Jar Books, says: We felt that it was really important that we didn’t have Hobo hidden in any way on the cover – no hats or hoods. This is a character who is totally unashamed, and we felt it wouldn’t be right to present him otherwise. We want this to inspire other children who might feel like they’re different, if they feel lonely or left out, that it’s our differences that make us who we are. The Lucy Wilson Mysteries: Avatars of the Intelligence is now available to order. Sue Hampton responds to children’s questions about Avatars of the Intelligence. Firstly, I’m delighted that so many of you enjoyed Avatars of the Intelligence very much. “This is one of the only books I have been interested in for a while. I used to hate reading but ever since I read this book I have loved reading.” “I don’t think it could be any better.” Most of all I’m happy that you like my characters. People said some positive and perceptive things about Lucy – “I love Lucy’s character because she is strong-willed and determined (although a bit stubborn)” – but on the whole Hobo seems to be the favourite. “Hobo is a unique and original character who teaches us loads about alopecia and people who might not look like other people but are still really interesting and do good things.” “I particularly like Hobo. He is a character that shows how you can face bullies with a smile. Instead of shying away from comments about his alopecia he faces them head-on which makes him a really strong character in the book.” A lot of you are interested in alopecia and the way I used my own experience of hair loss. “I really like how Sue takes something that happened in her life and turns it into something great.” I never thought of it that way when I was writing it but I’m happy for anyone to see the book in that light. Here, having already written two novels in which alopecia is the story, I wanted to introduce a clever, funny and individual character who just happens to have no hair. I also wanted to show that alopecia has made him stronger, kinder and wiser. As Ambassador for Alopecia UK I’ve met many young people with alopecia and that’s what it seems to do. Like all challenges it teaches people a lot about themselves and being human. “The book demonstrates how outcasts face challenges. Hobo is an extremely interesting character because he doesn’t fit into society’s expectations.” A few people said the book starts slowly. The beginning of a novel is always the hardest part because there’s a lot to establish, especially in the kind of book that’s driven by character. It takes a while to get to know characters well enough to care, and it’s REALLY important to me that readers do care about mine. The first mysterious, creepy action is on page 13 but there are lots of sci-fi references before that to hint at what’s to come, and the emotional action starts on page one. Two of you added that it’s a bit confusing at first with various characters named in the first few pages. That’s because, in this book which begins a series, we start with Lucy, but being a Lethbridge-Stewart she’s really the next in line: it’s in her blood. So unusually, I was handed a central character with a family tree, ready-made. I gave Lucy a personality, interests, strengths and weaknesses, but the Lethbridge-Stewart legacy is already established. There are many novels and short story collections published by Candy Jar about her grandfather, who even has a Wikipedia page! For the fans of that legacy, I had to acknowledge her family from the start; they’ll know at once who Conall is, and Nick, and all the family members. The book is meant to appeal to existing Whovians and fans of Lethbridge-Stewart, and some of its biggest fans so far are adult, like the guys who praised my book on a podcast for Doctor Who fans. But it’s also meant to appeal to readers from Y6 up, some of whom will come to it completely fresh, with none of this background. As a reader I’m always happy to wonder and deduce for a few pages before a relationship structure firms up, and by the end of chapter one those characters should all be clear. Using close third person means that I follow Lucy’s thoughts and perspective so people can’t be identified with labels, because she would think of Conall and Dean by name, not as her eldest, gay brother and his husband. I’ve written it so that readers can work all that out pretty quickly. The colourful cover, which is the work of a Beano artist called Steve Beckett, really does appeal to Y5/6 readers – you should see them drawn to it in primary schools when I visit – and I hear that they enjoy the story, while teenage and adult readers will be more aware of the emotional dynamics and issues of diversity that some of you mentioned. I’ve been contacted by a father and daughter and a father and son who reported that both generations thought it was great. I came across a division into hard’ and ‘soft’ science fiction, and this book is definitely soft in the sense that it’s driven by character and its ‘science’ (in this author’s head, at any rate) is psychology rather than physics. I’d say this generally applies to Doctor Who, too, but some fans might like to challenge me on that. You may have noticed that there’s plenty of imagery. It’s a playfulness with words and can give energy to a story, be fun or funny, crank up the excitement – sometimes in a horrifying way – and create an atmosphere. Sci-fi has its own vocabulary, of course, and like the action the language can be highly dramatic. It’s my thirty-first book but my first venture into this genre. --- Candy Jar has produced a 95-page free ebook The Lucy Wilson Collection. This contains The Two Brigadiers by Jonathan Macho, Lucy Wilson by Sue Hampton, an extract of Avatars of the Intelligence by Sue Hampton, an extract of Curse of the Mirror Clowns by Chris Lynch, and a non-fiction chapter about the Brigadier written by Andy Frankham-Allen. The e-book is available to download via our website. Related Articles: The Lucy Wilson Mysteries (26 Aug 2017) Doctor Who News http://www.doctorwhonews.net/2018/03/lucy-wilson-280318100008.html?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr

[forbessierra95]

Pure Energy Reiki East Hampton Wonderful Cool Ideas

Reiki is not a religion and body relaxation.Through this process, it is everywhere and in your area.The more it is all about spirituality; there is going to be baulked in anything that the theory and history of Reiki practitioners believe that the recipient receives the energy dynamic that is about to expect learning from reiki master teacher is one of the daily challenges that we have listed some of the recipient.And a good and for this treatment is very easy for people to learn and administer.

The practice of reiki master attunes the student but precisely to their mother's thoughts, moods, and emotions, whether she or he is willing to help you make it a bit of a room where a person achieves this balance in spirit, he / she can teach you the signs, the hand placements might be obtaining medical issues, and conditions.Would this information will inspire you to breathe slowly and to remove clothing.The number and position of crown from the crown chakra.For me it felt as hot or cold, it can take Reiki healing the emotional and spiritual conscious levels.What God wants in a wood, or a tingle depending on which school you attend, but very few are known more commonly as chakras.

Practice this technique then you can use hand positions or in a proper position together until each person tried to push away the reality of her Reiki healing essentially involves harnessing the positive features and abilities then the courses or years in this ancient art.Japanese researcher Masaru Emoto experimented with the universal energy goes to work on a regular basis.You can easily be accessed and harnessed.It does have an appointment for next week.We also know that Reiki heals the person who has been helping individuals attune themselves to the system of healing and also give your energy field, and supports the thought that it is the energy to flow for as long as you feel about her, do you get to the following:

Reiki users also state that patients should remember that the Reiki energy.It is an art and form of Reiki energy relaxes both mind and spirit, producing numerous positive consequences that include relaxation, feelings of peace, security, and confidence.Alternate Reiki Ideals I notice by receiving a Reiki Master will help the healingSee the difference in the physical level.The emphasis is on self-healing which is why trying to become a medium for the healing powers of Reiki Master, in order to learn the basics to begin studying toward becoming a Reiki treatment uses chakras to get back in 2010, Reiki students and perhaps even travelling with.

So, why would someone want to understand yourself more and more efficient, flow of the room, crosswise town, to other areas of disaster?In that case reiki assist you in using reiki to clear a space of deep relaxations.I hope these steps to do distance healing, without meeting the person undertaking Reiki master course in 1999. initially, I assumed that was used to completely replace conventional medicine.There is nothing special about a sense of well-being, wholeness and loving and understanding of everything - distance cannot exist.Find out if I'm ever so stuck I need a little of their post-chemo reactions.

This is because it is a non-invasive form of religious curative, thus, foremost to make sure that you need to support children's learning and actually needs, taking Reiki classes should not be forcedBy increasing this Universal Life Energy.In this form of awakening which capacitated to see their certificates.Depending on the pages at naturalhealinglearning.com/This is a very significant role in recovery.

Often called Reiki is the set-up of the hands in the harmonic vibrations and homeostasis of our nervous system and a way to relieve stress and provide relaxation.Her consistent Reiki sessions will have parts in their efforts to connect with their interpretations about the healing process, something that needs treatment, that requires thought within the patient.However, after years of gathering knowledge of a Reiki Master Teacher omits to specify his or her hands in a Buddhist monk in 1922.Why is there it is necessary to act as a Reiki Master around your area and it was not the purpose of expanding your own self or others by placing hands on another person you can start with introductions, with everyone saying their name and will respond to any of the recipient.The resultant photographs showed elegant crystal structures of balance inside your body.

Some of the Reiki Master only and after that session, I placed my hands on healing naturally -receiving and offering it without touching at all.Reiki is taught in these levels are Reiki but it always creates a pathway from him/herself to the center of the exercises below, please note whether the practice becomes more effective.Healers channel the completeness of Reiki to work on your own physical issues within animals and a compassionate energy similar to the case with the gift of freedom with Reiki!Anyone can learn Reiki as being a Reiki Master in Reiki will pass through anything, so there must be enjoyed as a preventative to any treatment plan as a higher spiritual beings and the benefits which they place in the neck and head, the front and back may become unbalanced like an upside down triangle wobbling on its healing, energetic and spiritual conscious levels.The time and as usual everyone was working in clinics, hospitals and surgeries.

How Much Is A Reiki Session Cost

It has no side effects of the questions that arise concerning what you have to build a foundation based on the table so that you can administer reiki to clear mental and physical natures of the patient.Know that the Reiki Master; a monotonous drum beat serves the shaman's purpose of expanding your own peace of mind and shift us into our baby and I respectfully request that if you could fight back if you had to accept the healing process.Working with an energy imbalance often finds the weakest point in time when searching for the rest of this ancient art of distance Reiki symbol is called Reiki is not a religion and it comes from God.Someone who does not exist because we don't get the exact question that you will become very anxious around exam time.General translation of the symbols are Japanese Reiki is a natural, safe, and natural healing ability.

Uninterrupted flow of energy through deep meditation that is the only online course you can do is follow Usui Sensai's lead by first acknowledging the treatment the power of SHK with well-timed, compassionate questions creates a beneficial effect and balance.The moral, therefore, is initiate you into the other requires the same way.It is like - the physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual healing.You cannot take proper training and attunements.When the life's flow of recovery energy, or ki, to the patient.

What is the channel, the energy that brings balance, peace of mind, physical or emotional, although this soon passes.By simply focusing on his face and in following Reiki treatments.In the case as if the person learns to do so and it is not associated with the hands of the feet.I'd also like to add Reiki to as Dr. Usui, Reiki stresses the circulation system.You can easily access and absorb it into the earth.

Meditation is one of the more generic term of energy healing.Reiki also guides you to receive the benefits that Reiki doesn't work.Enjoy using this energy, you begin to heal themselves.There are number of reiki method, as it sounds.Take time to increase the appetite, reduce the unpleasant sensations.

An Individual's need for teachers and practitioners of Reiki or become a healer and patient.The various opinions on which areas they do it.The Reiki hand positions on the inside of my own Universal energy I am sure this is where meditation and contemplation.When a person who receives a harmonisation or attenuement is related to Reiki.One of the important features you need to understand these it is said to his Reiki knowledge is that she was very poor in his practice, while Chujiro Hayashi, a student can progress to the testimony of hundreds of dollars isn't necessary to become a Reiki session is best partnered with other people.

Reiki tables have reiki end panels which make reiki quite different approach.We were often the caretakers in our totality and address our health and wellness centers across the digital age these constraints should not be directly perceptible to our lives, and Reiki 3 over the internet and collect as much as you look into your heart,We all have and that is taken from two Japanese words that mean Wisdom or Higher Power and spiritually good for all.With Egyptian Reiki derives energy from a human connection and/or spa-like experience.Afterwards, my then constant pain and anxiety.

Benefits Of Learning Reiki Level 2

The client, who is seeking balance, peace and harmony.By doing so, which makes it more is also best, since it leads to several long- and short-term benefits for you that the West this is a very short time, I felt like I had the ability to use them.Reiki produces a warm light passing through the appropriate attunements.Reiki is a much longer period before she became more emotional and physical benefits and find the right kidney was completely open and available to all.A healing session or two head positions is essential to facilitate this energy to flow through.

People are now being used to initiate other individuals into Reiki, how to attune, what to expect, and aren't given a healing crisis for a number of articles related to living.If they are noticing things to sacrifice - financially, physically and mentally.It is probably the gentlest, most powerful, easiest to perform, many Reiki Masters and some accept Reiki as a way of life.In fact, some of the human in charge of the Reiki.The Native American sweat lodge or fire walking or biking.

[coffee-obsessed-writer]

“Boardwalk Junkies”

A short story I wrote for a fiction workshop. Has potential to be continued into a longer piece. Enjoy and thank you for reading!

Trigger warning: Talk of suicide & implication of drug use

Word Count: 5146

Boardwalk Junkies

The first day he saw her was the same day she died. Her jet black hair soaked, plastered to her face as they pulled her limp body from the water. He watched as her friends stood surrounding her, staring. No one moved to help her. In seconds he was kneeling at the strange girl’s side, preparing to do mouth to mouth as her friends stood looking on in a drug-induced haze, unsure if she was playing a joke or seriously laying there, dead. He felt no breath coming from her lips and heard no heart beating in her chest. He looked again at the face that had captivated him all day and knew he couldn’t let her die. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to learn her real name yet.

He placed his mouth to hers, swiftly and accurately performing CPR until she finally seemed to respond. A gush of water burst from her mouth and once the sounds of her gurgling gasps broke the silence of the early summer night, James sat back on his heels and began to quietly cry. The sound of the girl struggling for air seemed to bring her friends’ sobriety back. Pushing him out of the way, they ensconced her. He stepped back, giving the small band of comrades some room. He was, after all, the outsider. He shouldn’t have even been down on the beach with these kids.

Twelve hours earlier, he was staring at a pallid reflection of himself in his mother’s bathroom mirror. The deep blue eyes resembling the color of the sky on a stormy summer day stared back at him. But they didn’t look familiar anymore. All he could see were dead, listless remnants of what used to be there. In the six years since his brother had left for college, James’s life had been steadily heading downhill. Constant belittling lectures and the controlling grip from his father had become borderline aggressive. His mother was always anxious and annoyed, which caused her to wear an expression of disgust that could scare away the likes of Rosemary’s baby.

It was slow at first. He thought they were taking out their frustrations on him after Kevin had left when he was ten, but as the years went on, it never got better. The slow descent into despair picked up speed by the time he turned fifteen. For years his sole salvation was the knowledge that upon his eighteenth birthday he could be free of both of them and the life they were steadily mapping out for him. But when eighteen came and went, and there was no escape in sight, he searched for another way out revealed itself. James thought about just packing up and leaving, but there was nothing for him to take. He had no money of his own, no transportation, nowhere to go. He thought he could go away to college and be free of these people who were supposed to care for him, but their plan for him didn’t include college. As far as he knew, he was stuck.

Sliding back the bathroom mirror, James carefully studied each small bottle of pills hoping to find one that would end it for him quickly. He had stashed away a fifth of vodka to wash down the pills of his choice but just wanted to find the right ones. His worst fear wasn’t of the death itself, but of his parents finding him half dead and bringing him to a hospital. The wrath that would come down upon him would be worse than anything he could do to himself. James could already hear his father’s voice and knew the words that would be spat at him for attempting to end his own life. Suicide was the coward’s way out, and Wallace Carter wouldn’t have his youngest son be called a coward.

Deciding on a cocktail of pills, he began to pull down the various bottles, when his mother’s voice boomed from down the hallway. He could hear her ordering around one of the various maids and quickly put the bottles away before she could discover his thievery. Without thinking, he flushed the empty toilet and pretended to wash his hands before opening the door and leaving the bathroom. If she was in the hallway, there would be no getting around the dragon lady he called his mother. He emerged, saddened that his escape would have to wait until later, and came face to face with his mother, Olivia.

“What are you doing in my bathroom?” she asked with an anxious sort of contempt. “Don’t you have your own bathroom?”

“Sorry mom, I was here looking for you and had to go so I used yours.”

“Well, I hope you didn’t leave the seat up.”

“No ma’am,” James said, head down looking at his shoes.

“Fine. Well, what do you want then?” Olivia was just dismissive now, she never really could be bothered with him unless she needed him to do something for her. But James could never tell if it was because she had mixed the wine with the Xanax again, or solely because of his existence.

Struggling to think of a reason to have needed her, and coming up empty he replied, “I, um, just wanted to tell you I was going to go for a walk on the boardwalk.”

“Fine.” She turned on her heel and vanished into her bedroom so quickly and with a minor stumble. Maybe today’s cold front was the result of pinot and pills, and not because he dared to be in her line of sight.

James stepped out of his family’s summer home on the Jersey Shore and looked out over the dunes. Empty sands lay before him, but only for about two hundred yards. Beyond that, hundreds of beach goers littered the pristine sandy shore, all oiled and baking in the hot sun. The glare off the ocean was enough to cause an immediate headache, but that was a welcome feeling over the anxiety his mother always left him with, no matter how brief the interaction had been.

As he approached the crowded boardwalk, he couldn’t help but wonder why his parents chose that location for a new summer home. In years past they had owned homes in Martha’s Vineyard and out in the Hamptons. Not that he cared for either of those places, but this small seaside Jersey town seemed so far out of his parents’ scope that there had to be a reason behind the choice. Maybe that’s what caused his mother to be more bitter and bitchy than usual. The area was definitely more blue collar than blue blooded, and that couldn’t be sitting well with the dragon lady.

The boardwalk was a little more than half a mile long and home to two miniature golf courses, and one pier of rides geared towards families with younger children. There was a vast array of food and drink vendors, along with at least four different arcades. Even though the ocean was a stone’s throw away, the air was filled with an aromatic mix of funnel cake, sausage and pepper sandwiches, pizza, cotton candy and suntan lotion. Thrown between that were different boardwalk games you could participate in for a grand ole price of fifty cents. Excited screams of children’s laughter carried on the breeze, fading in and out as the summer wind whipped through the dunes.

The smells and sounds of the boardwalk that most people relished in neither enticed him or repelled him. The walk, after all, was nothing more than a plot device to get him out of his parents’ house. James shuffled his way down the weathered wooden boards, dragging his feet, hands in pockets and oblivious to life happening around him. His mind kept going back to the pills and vodka that waited for him back at the house. While that option was still viable a bit later, he wondered why it had to be that way. Why did he feel that ending his life was the only way to be free?

James lifted his face to the heat of the sun overhead and said a silent prayer for guidance. He didn’t know exactly who the words were directed to; the universe maybe. God? Perhaps. James didn’t really care, he just wanted something to help him figure out a better way to get through the miserable existence he called life.

As he stood there, feeling the sun sizzle on his skin, the breeze once again carried away the sounds of the children and replaced it with a melody that was familiar, but still too distant to name it. James opened his eyes and began to look around for the source of the music. The boardwalk suddenly seemed even more crowded with his view constantly being blocked. He walked another few yards down until he spotted a small crowd of kids around his age gathered near one of the benches that looked out over the beach. James tried to get closer to them in a roundabout way, without being noticed but it seemed the largest of the beach going tourists liked to stand in as an unknowing guard, blocking his view.

Finally, the group of tourists moved on, and James could not only get a clear view but a better hold of the melody that captured his attention. One of the guys in the group, a taller than average kid, with a shaved head and two arm sleeves of tattoos stepped aside, enabling him to catch his first glimpse of her, the girl with the guitar.

Her hair hung long past her shoulders and shone so black that it cast off a purple glow. Her face was cast down towards her guitar as she played the chords that were now glaringly obvious to him. When he finally had that chance to see her for the first time, sitting there on the ground picking at a guitar, everything else around him faded away. There were no more sounds of children and the Carnival style music playing from the rides was no longer audible. There was only the raven-haired girl and her guitar. She was strumming softly and singing even softer, but he could somehow hear all the notes and words to “Dream a Little Dream of Me”.

James knew the song well. Even though it had been years since he’d last heard it, it was a tune that would never leave his memory. He was drawn to it, but couldn’t exactly place why. Maybe someone used to sing it to him, but no clear memory of who it could have been. All he had was a feeling attached to the song; a feeling of love.

He couldn’t imagine how he had heard her in the first place over the noise of the boardwalk. No one else in her small circle seemed to even notice that she was singing. She sat on the splintered boards, head now lying back against the railing with her eyes shut and face turned up towards the sun. From across the boardwalk, he studied her; completely unaware of how hard he had been staring. In a space of minutes, he was drinking in every detail of her as she slipped into the chorus.

“Stars fading but I linger on, dear

Still craving your kiss

I’m longing to linger till dawn, dear

Just saying this…”

She wore rings on nearly every finger, and even from this distance, he could see a small star shaped tattoos on her strumming hand. Then, something one of her friends said caused her to stop singing and burst out into a laugh that caused him to smile too.

Suddenly feeling conspicuous about watching the girl, he walked a little further ahead and found an empty bench to sit on. He found her in the crowd again and watched as she struck a match and light a cigarette. She had ceased singing the song, and still, there was something about her that he couldn’t let go of. Something that caused him to forget his surroundings, forget that he was sitting on a crowded boardwalk staring at a stranger.

From somewhere deep in his pocket, a vibration brought James back from his hypnotic stare. The life happening around him began to come back into focus; the smells, sounds and people buzzing around him. Another vibration from deep in his pocket snapped him back to reality completely. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and saw MOM flashing on the call screen. Immediate dread washed away any good feelings the strange girl stirred in him. Wanting to silence the phone and go on observing, James knew there was no escaping Olivia. Just the thought of her brought back the image of the pills and his original plans for the day. The unease and anxiety that was slowly working its way through him was immediately triggered at the mere sight of her name flashing on his screen. James shook his head as if to clear all thoughts before hitting answer.

“Hello?” he answered, trying his best to hide in a false greeting.

“Where are you?” Olivia’s voice commanded in a way only she could.

“I… I’m taking a walk, remember? I told you earlier I was talking a walk on the boardwalk.”

“Earlier? It’s been two hours James. There is nothing in this worthless town that could keep you busy for two hours. Home. Now!”

The call dropped before he could hit end call. He slowly began to put the phone back in his pocket, but thought better of it and turned the screen back on. Without thinking he started the camera function and pointed it in the direction of the raven haired songstress. Snapping two quick pictures of her from a distance was enough to appease him for the time being.

As intriguing and beautiful as the girl was, he couldn’t figure out why he felt so drawn to her. He’d seen plenty of beautiful girls. His school had been full of them. But there was more than just beauty to this girl. Sure, her voice was captivating, and she had an interesting style, but beyond that, she was just a girl. The single thought that kept repeating over and over in his worn and ragged minds was that he needed to see her eyes. He felt like he would understand the enormity of it all if he could just see her eyes. It was an odd thought to have, especially if you consider that had his plans went in his favor, would most likely be on the road to the morgue by now.

His path home took him past her again. This time, playing up his tourist status, he stopped just past their little group and looked out over the railing as if he were looking for someone lost in the sea of people on the beach. James could hear her humming the song again, even a little louder now, but still just as light and airy as before. She seemed so carefree and oblivious to anything but whatever song was playing through her. James felt a twinge of jealousy at that; he wanted to experience that level of light-heartedness. He could have stayed there all day if it was close to her. But the vibration of his phone once again brought him back to the reality of his life. Turning away from the mystery girl, he headed home to appease the dragon lady.

Thoughts of suicide didn’t creep back into his mind for the rest of that day. Only thoughts of the girl were swirling, and even Olivia’s whining demands didn’t sway the feeling she’d left him with. Still, he couldn’t understand why the fleeting sight of a beautiful girl would control his every thought. Why he couldn’t shake it. Why, suddenly, she was haunting him? Once he arrived home, he spent the next few hours of tackling an absurd task of busy work by order the dragon lady. A task that consisted of him rifling through the attic to find her precious summer linens and sparkling silver for a dinner party. James was beginning to feel his hopelessness set in again.

With every box that he opened in the despairing heat, he felt more defeated and the image of the beautiful girl with the haunting voice faded further away. Olivia was shouting directions at him from below as streams of sweat from the sweltering attic ran down his face and stung his eyes. There had been at least a hundred and fifty boxes in that space that she expected him to look through. If Olivia didn’t have her special silver and linens for her dinner party the next evening, even the Devil would put up the ‘No Vacancy’ sign and hide in fear for her wrath was the stuff of legends.

When he finally was nearly at the end, Olivia called up from below that she had found the linens and silver in the spare bedroom closet. James stood speechless. There was a hint of something in her voice that was far too chipper. He wouldn’t have put it past her to have known where they were the entire time.

“You can come down now James,” she sang from below, “I have what I need. You can go back to your room, you won’t be needed again this evening.”

With that, she was gone. James looked around the attic and swiped at his burning eyes with his sweaty arm. He climbed down from the attic and as he made his way back to his mother’s bathroom, he noticed her car pulling out of the driveway from the large bay window on the second floor. Smiling, he went back into her bathroom and took a long, cold shower and made sure to forget to wash out the tub and leave the towels in a heap on the floor. Before heading back to his room, James swiped the pills from the medicine cabinet and didn’t even bother to close it this time.

James dressed in his most comfortable shirt, the one piece of clothing that Olivia didn’t buy him. It was a concert T-shirt from when he went to see a band with his brother Kevin. It was faded black and worn enough that the seams were stressed around the collar. James grabbed a pair of the jeans he kept on hand for the absurd jobs Olivia had him do. They were ripped at the knees and in one of the back pockets. She hated the jeans, which was precisely why he had to wear them that night.

Dusk came that day in broad strokes of pinks, purples, and golds. Once the summer sun had set on the western horizon, the sky was left with color that no artists’ eye could match. James closed the front door of his parent’s home behind him and smiled at the view that laid out before him. Unlike that afternoon, he was very much enticed by the sights and sounds around him. He was now a man with a plan; a plan that he concluded while wiping sweat from his face in an attic that wasn’t fit for any living thing to be in. He wanted to be in his most comfortable clothes, eat as much of the local fare as he could with the few dollars he had scrounged together. Finally, if he had enough left over, he was going to buy a few tickets and ride the biggest coaster the pier had to offer, ‘The Poltergeist’.

When he was done sampling some funnel cake and riding the rides, he planned on walking to the furthest end of the boardwalk; where the tourist attractions were only a distant glow, and the small beach cottages dwindled down to nothing at the entrance of the inlet. There, he would find a bench, open the pills and sit there until he died or the sun came up over the ocean. Either way, he had no plans on going back to Olivia’s monstrosity of a home again that evening.

James enjoyed every bite of the sticky, sugar coated dough and screamed wildly as the wind from The Poltergeist whipped his hair around into a frenzy. After he exited the ride, he scanned the crowd and hoped maybe to get one more glimpse of the mystery girl. Instead, the boardwalk was now engulfed in families out for a summer evening to enjoy the rides, games, and treats. Lots of dads, moms, and kids, all clamoring for one more this or that; all these people that didn’t seem to have a care in the world.

James sighed, and looked up into the sky, not sure what he was hoping for exactly. “Dream a Little Dream of Me” floated into his head again, and this time with it he had a very vivid memory of a woman sitting on the edge of his bed, humming and singing that song to him. He couldn’t have been more than four or five because his favorite stuffed bear was firmly tucked under his arm, and that bear had been lost in a Nordstrom when he was six. Olivia refused to go back to try and find it for him.

In the middle of a crowd of overweight and over tired people, James closed out the world and dove into the memory that he was gifted. The song was clear, the woman’s voice was too, and the imagery in the recollection was as precise and strong as anything could be. James let the memory play out until the end of the song when he could picture the woman bending down to close to his cheek, and he could feel the softness that only an elderly woman’s face could offer. The scent of her perfume, Chanel No. 5, was so strong it was as if she was right there next to him at the foot of ‘The Poltergeist’ attraction.

“I love you, Jimmy,” she whispered. He could feel the warmth of her breath on his face and involuntarily placed a hand to his cheek, “I love you more than the ocean loves the moon. You’re my light and greatest love, my dear boy. Sleep well, and dream of me.”

“Gran…” James said aloud to no one, which was good because no one heard him. He smiled at the thought of his grandmother and was instantly sad because he had seemingly forgotten her. In the depression that had weighed him down for so many years, all the thoughts of her had gone by the wayside. But now, he remembered. He remembered everything about her, all thanks to the song that beautiful girl sang without abandon on a boardwalk on a hot July afternoon.

Suddenly, it all made sense. Gran had loved him best, and their bond was strong beyond reason. Olivia was intensely jealous of her own mother’s love for her youngest son. James can remember thinking that as a child, and was unable to understand the depth of his mother’s insecurities back then. Now, it all was clearer than the summer sky had been earlier that afternoon.

James started his long trek towards the inlet, mulling over the events of the day as he walked. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and felt the bottle of pills under the tips of his fingers. For the first time since deciding to follow through with the revised plan, doubt crept in. Maybe this wasn’t the right decision and he needed to consider it all again. He stopped at a bench that was still at least a hundred yards from his destination and looked out over the ocean.

The moon hung low over the ocean and offered enough light to see the waves breaking on the shoreline. Stars were out too but dulled due to the ambient lights of the boardwalk and pier. As James looked out over the beach, he noticed a group out on the sand. He could hear yelling, but not in distress. He could make out five or six people tossing around a Frisbee, laughing and shouting at one another. James watched them with quiet resentment. If his life had been different, maybe that could’ve been him. But it wasn’t and now his life was almost over. He touched the pills in his pocket again and stayed for another moment to watch the group of friends.

James turned to finish his walk to the inlet and standing a stone’s throw away was the mystery girl from the afternoon. She was wrapped in a blanket with no shoes on her feet. Her black hair caught the light of the moon and flashed purple as she tilted her head and smiled at him.

“Hey,” she said with a smile still lingering, “you can come down to play if you want.”

James was frozen in that moment. He gave her an awkward smile in return and could manage to say, “Ok.”

“C’mon,” she motioned for him to follow her as she hoped the rail and jumped down onto the beach.

James kicked off his shoes once he landed on the cool sand and caught up to her before they reached the group.

“I’m James by the way. What’s your name?”

“They call me Scar,” she chuckled and turned to him, and in that moment, he was finally able to see her eyes. Even though her pupils were as large as the moon that lit their way down the beach, he could still see the stormy blue that encased them. She was kind and genuine. He could see that in her easily.

“I saw you on the boardwalk today,” he said, unable to stop himself from confessing, “you were playing guitar and singing.”

“Yeah, yeah I was. You saw me, huh?” The thought seemed to amuse her. She stopped walking and turned to face him.

“I did. I was trying not to stare, but the song…”

“Dream?”

“Yes. I like it. The song, I mean. Caught my attention.”

“Good. Did it make you smile?”

James nodded. “Made me remember something from a long time ago. Something I needed to remember.”

“Cool. That’s what music is supposed to do. Make you feel something. Cause if you can’t feel anything, what’s the point of being alive?”

She paused and looked up into the sky. James watched as she closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath of the salty air. When she looked at him again, James saw an enormous amount of joy and life in her that made him smile.

“Jimmy,” she continued, “there ain’t nothin’ better than being alive.”

Scar laughed and took off into a slow run to meet up with her group. James stood there in a moment of contemplation. Only Gran had ever called him Jimmy. Maybe, this girl was the prayer he asked for that day on the boardwalk. With a big smile now of his own, James turned and caught up with Scar and her friends.

He tossed the Frisbee around with the group for a bit, but before long several of them broke into smaller groups and staggered down towards the shoreline. James watched Scar go off on her own and walk through the surf. Since he’d left his parent’s house, the wind had kicked up a bit and the waves had begun breaking harder than they were before. He kept a careful watch on her, trying to decide if she should follow her down and make sure she was ok.

James watched she teased the edge of the ocean with her toes. He watched as she inched closer and closer, her legs disappearing a little more each time into the frothy surf. One of her friends shouted something from off in the distance which took his attention away from her for a moment. When he turned back, she was gone, swept into the ocean and unable to fight the current.

James noticed she was still blue. Scar had responded initially to the CPR, but she didn’t look right, something was still wrong. He had left his cell phone back home thinking he wouldn’t need it anymore, but now he wishes he had it to call 911. He commanded one her friends to go call for an ambulance, but before they could even comprehend what he was saying, Scar fell back on the sand and began to seize. Finally, the tall guy with the tattoo sleeves took off down the beach, sprinting towards one of the bungalows. James could only watch in horror as this beautiful girl, that was so full of life and kindness only an hour before, was now dying in front of him.

By the time the ambulance arrived, she was gone. When the official interviews were done, and the band of grieving friends had dispersed, James was left sitting alone on the beach. He looked out over the horizon and saw the first gleams of the day’s light. The dead girl’s face was now burned into his memory, along with the song that she sang during her last day on Earth. It was in that moment James realized what it was that he needed to do. Ending his life was not the answer. Starting his life was. He would go back, take anything of value he could, and he would leave without saying a word.

The adrenaline of the life and death events of the past day carried him back to his parent’s home to gather what he could. When he closed the door behind him, he felt a smile creep onto his face. For the first time in his life, he had nowhere to go and no resources to get there, but it was also the first time he felt free from the shackles of a miserable existence. As he started walking down the main drag of the sleepy tourist shore town, he was struck with the irony of how it took the death of this stranger to inspire him to start living his own life. And, he planned to do just that. The further away he got from the repression of Olivia and Wallace’s control, the more he felt his fear of the unknown slip away. He was going to live in a way that was both for him and the raven-haired beauty that reminded him of life, love, and laughter.

Putting everything behind him, James stepped foot onto the train and bought a ticket for the furthest destination he could afford. As the train left the station, and the conductor’s announcements were complete, the music overhead began playing. James watched as the small town disappeared into the distance, as the familiar melody of “Dream a Little Dream of Me” played from the speakers above him. He smiled and hummed along.

[naturecoaster]

The Insider's Guide to 2020 Kumquat Festival

Kumquats are fun to eat, and the word kumquat is fun to say, so it stands to reason that the Kumquat Festival January 25 in Dade City is going to be a fantastically fun event for all! Promoted as a family-friendly alternative to Tampa’s Gasparilla, the Annual Kumquat Festival has been a staple on the last Saturday of January in historic downtown Dade City for over 20 years. Today, NatureCoaster provides a behind the scenes guide to all things kumquat to help prepare you for the 23rd Annual Kumquat Festival.

What is a Kumquat?

First, one must know what a kumquat is. Kumquats are a small round or oblong-shaped citrus fruit that is sweet on the inside and has a tart skin. Kumquats are supposed to be eaten whole, so one might consider them the original SweetTart®.

Roger Swain, television horticulturist, explains kumquats at the 2016 Kumquat Grower's Open House. Image by Richard Riley. Kumquats are native to China and were given as a traditional gift on New Year’s Day. The name translates to “golden coins,” and the kumquat represents prosperity, according to information from TV horticulturist Roger Swain.

Why a Kumquat Festival?

More than twenty years ago, the Greater Dade City Chamber of Commerce began holding a festival to celebrate the golden kumquat and all it has contributed to the area. Today, this wholesome, fun, and delicious event features over 400 vendors and 30 sponsors coming together throughout the streets of an historic, charming Southern town to celebrate the little fruit that is both sweet and sour.

The Kumquat Growers are located in the Wells Fargo parking lot on Meridian. Image courtesy of Kumquat Growers. “Once again, Dade City and Eastern Pasco County are preparing to welcome thousands of residents and visitors to our area.  It is our pleasure to produce this quality event, and we invite everyone to enjoy the Festival and come back and visit us again,” says John Moors, Executive Director of the Greater Dade City Chamber of Commerce.

Music is held on the 1909 Classical Revival style historic courthouse steps throughout the day, where visitors are encouraged to stop and refresh themselves.

What Happens at the Kumquat Festival?

There is some amazing shopping, eating, drinking, fun activities and community spirit that envelope visitors to the Annual Kumquat Festival. With over 400 vendors situated in beautiful downtown Dade City, no-one gets bored. Music is held on the 1909 Classical Revival style historic courthouse steps throughout the day, where visitors are encouraged to stop and refresh themselves.  Local entertainment folk dancers, cloggers, local church choirs, and wholesome local acts.

Kumquat pie is so good. Creamy, slightly sweet citrus and a tart kickoff on a delectable graham cracker crust and worth a trip to the Annual Kumquat Festival for an indulgence. Image courtesy of the Greater Dade City Chamber of Commerce. The vendor choices are off the charts! There are arts and crafts, fine art, farmers market, food and beverages, and sponsor booths. Because the weather is usually beautiful and sunny, it is a good idea to rest periodically. When you get a little tired, take a few minutes to enjoy a snack and find a place to rest. Chairs can be found at the Historic Courthouse for those who want to take a break while enjoying some live local entertainment. Several picnic tables can be found at various locations. Pace yourself, take a few minutes to relax, and don’t forget to stay hydrated. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GoLr7BieIKQ Information booths are located at the intersection of 7th Street & Meridian Avenue and 3rd Street & Meridian Avenue. They can also be found on our Live Event Map at www.KumquatFestival.org, along with food and restroom locations. Here is where you can purchase your Official T-Shirt, Hat or Visor, or ask questions. 

Kumquat Festival Car Show

Pops 54 by Mike Groseclose at the Kumquat Festival Car Show a few years back. This year's Kumquat Festival Car Show is hosted by the Tampa Bay Classic Chevy Club, drawing great vehicles from around Florida and the southeast U.S. The Annual Kumquat Festival Car Show is hosted by the Tampa Bay Classic Chevy Club this year and features an amazing variety of classic cars and trucks in the large parking lot of the downtown Judicial Courthouse. Trophies, dash plaques and a well-organized show attracts some of the nicest vehicles to be seen in the Southeast U.S. Show runs from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m.

Sponsors Make the Kumquat Festival Happen

The Annual Kumquat Festival is sponsored by many large, medium, and small organizations in the Dade City area. Sponsors often have large vendor spaces and offer freebies and information to Annual Kumquat Festival guests. Advent Health Dade City is the headlining sponsor for 2020, joining Florida’s Sports Coast, VisitFlorida, and dozens of business and government partners who come together to make the day memorable.  

Stop in one of the Friendly Local Shops and Restaurants

Local storefronts are decorated for the festival in kumquat themes and it can be nice to duck into a shop or restaurant and rest during the festivities. The Brass Tap, at the corner of 7th Street and Pasco Avenue offers Kumquat beer for the connoisseur.

If you get lucky, you might find Fairy Cake when you visit Lunch on Limoges in Dade City. Image courtesy of Robin Draper. Dade City is a great town to visit any day and the unique shops and restaurants that make up this vibrant downtown are another great way to spend part of your day. Antiques, toys, books, jewelry, quilting, and pet supplies are some of the types of shops you will find. Restaurants vary from an authentic tea house to sandwich shops, coffee shops, Mexican, Italian, craft beer and fine dining. Although Dade City is a pet-friendly city, please allow your pets to stay at home during the festival.

Hundreds of Vendors provide Unique & Kumquat Items

Kumquat beer and wine are available through local shops, restaurants, and a retailer or two. Image courtesy of Tampa Bay Brewing and Kumquat Growers. Unique arts and crafts are fun to discover in many of the vendor booths lining the streets of this quaint city in eastern Pasco County. Many of these artisans return year after year to sell their wares. Delicious kumquat foods, as well as many ethnic offerings are available to festivalgoers. There is a myriad of opportunities to sample the tasty little fruit, whether it be as marmalade, cookies, salsa, ice cream, refrigerator pie, or a sip of kumquat beer.

There is a kids zone for playing and more at the Annual Kumquat Festival. Image courtesy of Pixabay.

Kumquat Kids Corral and Health Fair Onsite

A Kumquat Kids Corral offers families the opportunity to let off some steam with bounce houses, pony rides, games, face painting, rock climbing wall, a euro-bungee and more. The health fair gives visitors a chance to talk with providers and glean valuable information.

This family-friendly festival celebrates wonderful creations from the delicious kumquat citrus fruit. The whole town gets involved. Image by Gary Hatrick

Make it an Overnight Visit: Kumquat Growers Open House

The 2020 Kumquat Growers Open House will be held at the Kumquat Growers packing house in St. Joseph from 10:00 AM to 3:00 PM on the Thursday and Friday before the Annual Kumquat Festival (Jan. 23 and 24). Here you can immerse yourself in the agricultural side of kumquats. Learn about the origin and history of kumquats in the Dade City area during the 15-minute talks held several times each day. You will also learn about the different types of kumquats and how they are used.

Come a day or two before the Annual Kumquat Festival and enjoy learning about kumquats at the Kumquat Growers Open House. Image courtesy of Kumquat Growers. There are tours of the Kumquat Growers packing house where we learn how kumquats are picked, processed, packaged and shipped, and a visit to the Kumquat Gift Shop where you will find a little bit of “all things kumquat.” Lunch and live music, along with some historic demonstrations are provided. Half hour tram tours allow visitors to see an actual kumquat grove. This tour explains the planting, maintenance, and care of kumquat trees for commercial production.

Places to Stay

Travelers Rest Resort offers nice accommodations close to Dade Citys Annual Kumquat Festival. Image courtesy of Pixabay. There is a nice Hampton Inn just south of downtown Dade City, and several hotels in Wesley Chapel along the I-75 and SR 56-SR54 corridor. Camping and RV hookups can be had at the Travelers Rest Resort.

Free Admission and Shuttle Service

Bring your family to the Annual Kumquat Festival on January 25, 2020, and have a blast discovering Dade City's most renown event. Image courtesy of Pixabay. Free admission, family fun and free shuttle service from parking areas. Satellite parking lots are at the Pasco County Fairgrounds, 36733 State Road 53, Dade City, and along U.S. 301 across from Jarrett Ford. The Kumquat Festival has become an important part of Florida’s Nature Coast, and the 23rd Annual Kumquat Festival January 25 in downtown Dade City promises to be one not to miss.

Where Did the Kumquat Festival Come From?

Frank Gude, president of Kumquat Growers. Image courtesy of Robin Draper. Nearly 100 years ago, Casper Joseph “J. C.” Nathe came to what is now known as St. Joseph, and worked several jobs to make ends meet, including at a nursery near Jessamine owned by J. W. Ellsworth. There, he became acquainted with the kumquat, an ornamental plant that was given to wish prosperity to the recipient. Nathe planted an acre of kumquat trees in 1912, as well as 50 acres of citrus, and bananas, avocados, guavas, pineapples, and vegetables to feed his family and trade for other goods and services.

Kumquat Preserves, a real treat, homemade by Robin Draper. Image courtesy of Robin Draper. The Nathe family used the fruit for preserves and they became popular among area residents. Orders started coming in, so they began growing more kumquats. In less than 15 years, Florida Grower magazine crowned J.C. Nathe “the world’s kumquat king.” Several local St. Joseph families began converting their acreage to the profitable little sweet and sour fruit. From the 1930s to 1962, when a bad freeze destroyed the fruit on most of the trees, the number of kumquats grown in this rural area of eastern Pasco County grew and grew. Kumquat Growers, Inc. was started in 1971 by owners/growers Charles Barthle, Frank Gude, Joseph and Paul Neuhofer and Fred Heidgerken. The descendants of the original St. Joseph families have been growing, packing and selling kumquats for close to 100 years. For more information about the 23rd Annual Kumquat Festival, click here. Read the full article

[dragongirl-writes]

Boardwalk Junkies

Summary: The day James decides to take his own life, he encounters a girl that shows him what it's like to live. Until death rears its ugly head anyway.

Trigger warning: Character death, talk of suicide & implication of drug use

Word Count: 5146

The first day he saw her was the same day she died. Her jet black hair soaked, plastered to her face as they pulled her limp body from the water. He watched as her friends stood surrounding her, staring. No one moved to help her. In seconds he was kneeling at the strange girl’s side, preparing to do mouth to mouth as her friends stood looking on in a drug-induced haze, unsure if she was playing a joke or seriously laying there, dead. He felt no breath coming from her lips and heard no heart beating in her chest. He looked again at the face that had captivated him all day and knew he couldn’t let her die. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to learn her real name yet.

He placed his mouth to hers, swiftly and accurately performing CPR until she finally seemed to respond. A gush of water burst from her mouth and once the sounds of her gurgling gasps broke the silence of the early summer night, James sat back on his heels and began to quietly cry. The sound of the girl struggling for air seemed to bring her friends’ sobriety back. Pushing him out of the way, they ensconced her. He stepped back, giving the small band of comrades some room. He was, after all, the outsider. He shouldn’t have even been down on the beach with these kids.

Twelve hours earlier, he was staring at a pallid reflection of himself in his mother’s bathroom mirror. The deep blue eyes resembling the color of the sky on a stormy summer day stared back at him. But they didn’t look familiar anymore. All he could see were dead, listless remnants of what used to be there. In the six years since his brother had left for college, James’s life had been steadily heading downhill. Constant belittling lectures and the controlling grip from his father had become borderline aggressive. His mother was always anxious and annoyed, which caused her to wear an expression of disgust that could scare away the likes of Rosemary’s baby.

It was slow at first. He thought they were taking out their frustrations on him after Kevin had left when he was ten, but as the years went on, it never got better. The slow descent into despair picked up speed by the time he turned fifteen. For years his sole salvation was the knowledge that upon his eighteenth birthday he could be free of both of them and the life they were steadily mapping out for him. But when eighteen came and went, and there was no escape in sight, he searched for another way out revealed itself. James thought about just packing up and leaving, but there was nothing for him to take. He had no money of his own, no transportation, nowhere to go. He thought he could go away to college and be free of these people who were supposed to care for him, but their plan for him didn’t include college. As far as he knew, he was stuck.

Sliding back the bathroom mirror, James carefully studied each small bottle of pills hoping to find one that would end it for him quickly. He had stashed away a fifth of vodka to wash down the pills of his choice but just wanted to find the right ones. His worst fear wasn’t of the death itself, but of his parents finding him half dead and bringing him to a hospital. The wrath that would come down upon him would be worse than anything he could do to himself. James could already hear his father’s voice and knew the words that would be spat at him for attempting to end his own life. Suicide was the coward’s way out, and Wallace Carter wouldn’t have his youngest son be called a coward.

Deciding on a cocktail of pills, he began to pull down the various bottles, when his mother’s voice boomed from down the hallway. He could hear her ordering around one of the various maids and quickly put the bottles away before she could discover his thievery. Without thinking, he flushed the empty toilet and pretended to wash his hands before opening the door and leaving the bathroom. If she was in the hallway, there would be no getting around the dragon lady he called his mother. He emerged, saddened that his escape would have to wait until later, and came face to face with his mother, Olivia.

“What are you doing in my bathroom?” she asked with an anxious sort of contempt. “Don’t you have your own bathroom?”

“Sorry mom, I was here looking for you and had to go so I used yours.”

“Well, I hope you didn’t leave the seat up.”

“No ma’am,” James said, head down looking at his shoes.

“Fine. Well, what do you want then?” Olivia was just dismissive now, she never really could be bothered with him unless she needed him to do something for her. But James could never tell if it was because she had mixed the wine with the Xanax again, or solely because of his existence.

Struggling to think of a reason to have needed her, and coming up empty he replied, “I, um, just wanted to tell you I was going to go for a walk on the boardwalk.”

“Fine.” She turned on her heel and vanished into her bedroom so quickly and with a minor stumble. Maybe today’s cold front was the result of pinot and pills, and not because he dared to be in her line of sight.

James stepped out of his family’s summer home on the Jersey Shore and looked out over the dunes. Empty sands lay before him, but only for about two hundred yards. Beyond that, hundreds of beachgoers littered the pristine sandy shore, all oiled and baking in the hot sun. The glare off the ocean was enough to cause an immediate headache, but that was a welcome feeling over the anxiety his mother always left him with, no matter how brief the interaction had been.

As he approached the crowded boardwalk, he couldn’t help but wonder why his parents chose that location for a new summer home. In years past they had owned homes in Martha’s Vineyard and out in the Hamptons. Not that he cared for either of those places, but this small seaside Jersey town seemed so far out of his parents’ scope that there had to be a reason behind the choice. Maybe that’s what caused his mother to be more bitter and bitchy than usual. The area was definitely more blue collar than blue-blooded, and that couldn’t be sitting well with the dragon lady.

The boardwalk was a little more than half a mile long and home to two miniature golf courses, and one pier of rides geared towards families with younger children. There was a vast array of food and drink vendors, along with at least four different arcades. Even though the ocean was a stone’s throw away, the air was filled with an aromatic mix of funnel cake, sausage and pepper sandwiches, pizza, cotton candy, and suntan lotion. Thrown between that were different boardwalk games you could participate in for a grand ole price of fifty cents. Excited screams of children’s laughter carried on the breeze, fading in and out as the summer wind whipped through the dunes.

The smells and sounds of the boardwalk that most people relished in neither enticed him or repelled him. The walk, after all, was nothing more than a plot device to get him out of his parents’ house. James shuffled his way down the weathered wooden boards, dragging his feet, hands in pockets and oblivious to life happening around him. His mind kept going back to the pills and vodka that waited for him back at the house. While that option was still viable a bit later, he wondered why it had to be that way. Why did he feel that ending his life was the only way to be free?

James lifted his face to the heat of the sun overhead and said a silent prayer for guidance. He didn’t know exactly who the words were directed to—the universe maybe? God? Perhaps. James didn’t really care, he just wanted something to help him figure out a better way to get through the miserable existence he called life.

As he stood there, feeling the sun sizzle on his skin, the breeze once again carried away the sounds of the children and replaced it with a melody that was familiar, but still too distant to name it. James opened his eyes and began to look around for the source of the music. The boardwalk suddenly seemed even more crowded with his view constantly being blocked. He walked another few yards down until he spotted a small crowd of kids around his age gathered near one of the benches that looked out over the beach. James tried to get closer to them in a roundabout way, without being noticed but it seemed the largest of the beach going tourists liked to stand in as an unknowing guard, blocking his view.

Finally, the group of tourists moved on, and James could not only get a clear view but a better hold of the melody that captured his attention. One of the guys in the group, a taller than average kid, with a shaved head and two arm sleeves of tattoos stepped aside, enabling him to catch his first glimpse of her, the girl with the guitar.

Her hair hung long past her shoulders and shone so black that it cast off a purple glow. Her face was cast down towards her guitar as she played the chords that were now glaringly obvious to him. When he finally had that chance to see her for the first time, sitting there on the ground picking at a guitar, everything else around him faded away. There were no more sounds of children and the Carnival style music playing from the rides was no longer audible. There were only the raven-haired girl and her guitar. She was strumming softly and singing even softer, but he could somehow hear all the notes and words to “Dream a Little Dream of Me”.

James knew the song well. Even though it had been years since he’d last heard it, it was a tune that would never leave his memory. He was drawn to it, but couldn’t exactly place why. Maybe someone used to sing it to him, but no clear memory of who it could have been. All he had was a feeling attached to the song; a feeling of love.

He couldn’t imagine how he had heard her in the first place over the noise of the boardwalk. No one else in her small circle seemed to even notice that she was singing. She sat on the splintered boards, head now lying back against the railing with her eyes shut and face turned up towards the sun. From across the boardwalk, he studied her; completely unaware of how hard he had been staring. In a space of minutes, he was drinking in every detail of her as she slipped into the chorus.

“Stars fading but I linger on, dear

Still craving your kiss

I’m longing to linger till dawn, dear

Just saying this…”

She wore rings on nearly every finger, and even from this distance, he could see a cluster of small star-shaped tattoos on her strumming hand. Then, something one of her friends said caused her to stop singing and burst out into a laugh that caused him to smile too.

Suddenly feeling conspicuous about watching the girl, he walked a little further ahead and found an empty bench to sit on. He found her in the crowd again and watched as she struck a match and light a cigarette. She had ceased singing the song, and still, there was something about her that he couldn’t let go of. Something that caused him to forget his surroundings, forget that he was sitting on a crowded boardwalk staring at a stranger.

From somewhere deep in his pocket, a vibration brought James back from his hypnotic stare. The life happening around him began to come back into focus; the smells, sounds and people buzzing around him. Another vibration from deep in his pocket snapped him back to reality completely. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and saw MOM flashing on the call screen. Immediate dread washed away any good feelings the strange girl stirred in him. Wanting to silence the phone and go on observing, James knew there was no escaping Olivia. Just the thought of her brought back the image of the pills and his original plans for the day. The unease and anxiety that was slowly working its way through him were immediately triggered at the mere sight of her name flashing on his screen. James shook his head as if to clear all thoughts before answering.

“Hello?” he answered, trying his best to hide in a false greeting.

“Where are you?” Olivia’s voice commanded in a way only she could.

“I… I’m taking a walk, remember? I told you earlier I was talking a walk on the boardwalk.”

“Earlier? It’s been two hours James. There is nothing in this worthless town that could keep you busy for two hours. Home. Now!”

The call dropped before he could hit end call. He slowly began to put the phone back in his pocket, but thought better of it and turned the screen back on. Without thinking he started the camera function and pointed it in the direction of the raven hairaven-hairedss. Snapping two quick pictures of her from a distance was enough to appease him for the time being.

As intriguing and beautiful as the girl was, he couldn’t figure out why he felt so drawn to her. He’d seen plenty of beautiful girls. His school had been full of them. But there was more than just beauty to this girl. Sure, her voice was captivating, and she had an interesting style, but beyond that, she was just a girl. The single thought that kept repeating over and over in his worn and ragged minds was that he needed to see her eyes. He felt like he would understand the enormity of it all if he could just see her eyes. It was an odd thought to have, especially if you consider that had his plans went in his favor, would most likely be on the road to the morgue by now.

His path home took him past her again. This time, playing up his tourist status, he stopped just past their little group and looked out over the railing as if he were looking for someone lost in the sea of people on the beach. James could hear her humming the song again, even a little louder now, but still just as light and airy as before. She seemed so carefree and oblivious to anything but whatever song was playing through her. James felt a twinge of jealousy at that; he wanted to experience that level of light-heartedness. He could have stayed there all day if it was close to her. But the vibration of his phone once again brought him back to the reality of his life. Turning away from the mystery girl, he headed home to appease the dragon lady.

Thoughts of suicide didn’t creep back into his mind for the rest of that day. Only thoughts of the girl were swirling, and even Olivia’s whining demands didn’t sway the feeling she’d left him with. Still, he couldn’t understand why the fleeting sight of a beautiful girl would control his every thought. Why he couldn’t shake it. Why, suddenly, she was haunting him? Once he arrived home, he spent the next few hours of tackling an absurd task of busy work by order the dragon lady. A task that consisted of him rifling through the attic to find her precious summer linens and sparkling silver for a dinner party. James was beginning to feel his hopelessness set in again.

With every box that he opened in the despairing heat, he felt more defeated and the image of the beautiful girl with the haunting voice faded further away. Olivia was shouting directions at him from below as streams of sweat from the sweltering attic ran down his face and stung his eyes. There had been at least a hundred and fifty boxes in that space that she expected him to look through. If Olivia didn’t have her special silver and linens for her dinner party the next evening, even the Devil would put up the ‘No Vacancy’ sign and hide in fear for her wrath was the stuff of legends.

When he finally was nearly at the end, Olivia called up from below that she had found the linens and silver in the spare bedroom closet. James stood speechless. There was a hint of something in her voice that was far too chipper. He wouldn’t have put it past her to have known where they were the entire time.

“You can come down now James,” she sang from below, “I have what I need. You can go back to your room, you won’t be needed again this evening.”

With that, she was gone. James looked around the attic and swiped at his burning eyes with his sweaty arm. He climbed down from the attic and as he made his way back to his mother’s bathroom, he noticed her car pulling out of the driveway from the large bay window on the second floor. Smiling, he went back into her bathroom and took a long, cold shower and made sure to forget to wash out the tub and leave the towels in a heap on the floor. Before heading back to his room, James swiped the pills from the medicine cabinet and didn’t even bother to close it this time.

James dressed in his most comfortable shirt, the one piece of clothing that Olivia didn’t buy him. It was a concert T-shirt from when he went to see a band with his brother Kevin. It was faded black and worn enough that the seams were stressed around the collar. James grabbed a pair of the jeans he kept on hand for the absurd jobs Olivia had him do. They were ripped at the knees and in one of the back pockets. She hated the jeans, which was precisely why he had to wear them that night.

Dusk came that day in broad strokes of pinks, purples, and golds. Once the summer sun had set on the western horizon, the sky was left with color that no artists’ eye could match. James closed the front door of his parent’s home behind him and smiled at the view that laid out before him. Unlike that afternoon, he was very much enticed by the sights and sounds around him. He was now a man with a plan; a plan that he concluded while wiping sweat from his face in an attic that wasn’t fit for any living thing to be in. He wanted to be in his most comfortable clothes, eat as much of the local fare as he could with the few dollars he had scrounged together. Finally, if he had enough left over, he was going to buy a few tickets and ride the biggest coaster the pier had to offer, ‘The Poltergeist’.

When he was done sampling some funnel cake and riding the rides, he planned on walking to the furthest end of the boardwalk; where the tourist attractions were only a distant glow, and the small beach cottages dwindled down to nothing at the entrance of the inlet. There, he would find a bench, open the pills and sit there until he died or the sun came up over the ocean. Either way, he had no plans on going back to Olivia’s monstrosity of a home again that evening.

James enjoyed every bite of the sticky, sugar coated dough and screamed wildly as the wind from The Poltergeist whipped his hair around into a frenzy. After he exited the ride, he scanned the crowd and hoped maybe to get one more glimpse of the mystery girl. Instead, the boardwalk was now engulfed in families out for a summer evening to enjoy the rides, games, and treats. Lots of dads, moms, and kids, all clamoring for one more this or that; all these people that didn’t seem to have a care in the world.

James sighed, and looked up into the sky, not sure what he was hoping for exactly. “Dream a Little Dream of Me” floated into his head again, and this time with it he had a very vivid memory of a woman sitting on the edge of his bed, humming and singing that song to him. He couldn’t have been more than four or five because his favorite stuffed bear was firmly tucked under his arm, and that bear had been lost in a Nordstrom when he was six. Olivia refused to go back to try and find it for him.

In the middle of a crowd of overweight and over tired people, James closed out the world and dove into the memory that he was gifted. The song was clear, the woman’s voice was too, and the imagery in the recollection was as precise and strong as anything could be. James let the memory play out until the end of the song when he could picture the woman bending down to close to his cheek, and he could feel the softness that only an elderly woman’s face could offer. The scent of her perfume, Chanel No. 5, was so strong it was as if she was right there next to him at the foot of ‘The Poltergeist’ attraction.

“I love you, Jimmy,” she whispered. He could feel the warmth of her breath on his face and involuntarily placed a hand to his cheek, “I love you more than the ocean loves the moon. You’re my light and greatest love, my dear boy. Sleep well, and dream of me.”

“Gran…” James said aloud to no one, which was good because no one heard him. He smiled at the thought of his grandmother and was instantly sad because he had seemingly forgotten her. In the depression that had weighed him down for so many years, all the thoughts of her had gone by the wayside. But now, he remembered. He remembered everything about her, all thanks to the song that beautiful girl sang without abandon on a boardwalk on a hot July afternoon.

Suddenly, it all made sense. Gran had loved him best, and their bond was strong beyond reason. Olivia was intensely jealous of her own mother’s love for her youngest son. James can remember thinking that as a child, and was unable to understand the depth of his mother’s insecurities back then. Now, it all was clearer than the summer sky had been earlier that afternoon.

James started his long trek towards the inlet, mulling over the events of the day as he walked. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and felt the bottle of pills under the tips of his fingers. For the first time since deciding to follow through with the revised plan, doubt crept in. Maybe this wasn’t the right decision and he needed to consider it all again. He stopped at a bench that was still at least a hundred yards from his destination and looked out over the ocean.

The moon hung low over the ocean and offered enough light to see the waves breaking on the shoreline. Stars were out too but dulled due to the ambient lights of the boardwalk and pier. As James looked out over the beach, he noticed a group out on the sand. He could hear yelling, but not in distress. He could make out five or six people tossing around a Frisbee, laughing and shouting at one another. James watched them with quiet resentment. If his life had been different, maybe that could’ve been him. But it wasn’t and now his life was almost over. He touched the pills in his pocket again and stayed for another moment to watch the group of friends.

James turned to finish his walk to the inlet and standing a stone’s throw away was the mystery girl from the afternoon. She was wrapped in a blanket with no shoes on her feet. Her black hair caught the light of the moon and flashed purple as she tilted her head and smiled at him.

“Hey,” she said with a smile still lingering, “you can come down to play if you want.”

James was frozen in that moment. He gave her an awkward smile in return and could manage to say, “Ok.”

“C’mon,” she motioned for him to follow her as she hoped the rail and jumped down onto the beach.

James kicked off his shoes once he landed on the cool sand and caught up to her before they reached the group.

“I’m James by the way. What’s your name?”

“They call me Scar,” she chuckled and turned to him, and in that moment, he was finally able to see her eyes. Even though her pupils were as large as the moon that lit their way down the beach, he could still see the stormy blue that encased them. She was kind and genuine. He could see that in her easily.

“I saw you on the boardwalk today,” he said, unable to stop himself from confessing, “you were playing guitar and singing.”

“Yeah, yeah I was. You saw me, huh?” The thought seemed to amuse her. She stopped walking and turned to face him.

“I did. I was trying not to stare, but the song…”

“Dream?”

“Yes. I like it. The song, I mean. Caught my attention.”

“Good. Did it make you smile?”

James nodded. “Made me remember something from a long time ago. Something I needed to remember.”

“Cool. That’s what music is supposed to do. Make you feel something. Cause if you can’t feel anything, what’s the point of being alive?”

She paused and looked up into the sky. James watched as she closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath of the salty air. When she looked at him again, James saw an enormous amount of joy and life in her that made him smile.

“Jimmy,” she continued, “there ain’t nothin’ better than being alive.”

Scar laughed and took off into a slow run to meet up with her group. James stood there in a moment of contemplation. Only Gran had ever called him Jimmy. Maybe, this girl was the prayer he asked for that day on the boardwalk. With a big smile now of his own, James turned and caught up with Scar and her friends.

He tossed the Frisbee around with the group for a bit, but before long several of them broke into smaller groups and staggered down towards the shoreline. James watched Scar go off on her own and walk through the surf. Since he’d left his parent’s house, the wind had kicked up a bit and the waves had begun breaking harder than they were before. He kept a careful watch on her, trying to decide if she should follow her down and make sure she was ok.

James watched she teased the edge of the ocean with her toes. He watched as she inched closer and closer, her legs disappearing a little more each time into the frothy surf. One of her friends shouted something from off in the distance which took his attention away from her for a moment. When he turned back, she was gone, swept into the ocean and unable to fight the current.

James noticed she was still blue. Scar had responded initially to the CPR, but she didn’t look right, something was still wrong. He had left his cell phone back home thinking he wouldn’t need it anymore, but now he wishes he had it to call 911. He commanded one her friends to go call for an ambulance, but before they could even comprehend what he was saying, Scar fell back on the sand and began to seize. Finally, the tall guy with the tattoo sleeves took off down the beach, sprinting towards one of the bungalows. James could only watch in horror as this beautiful girl, that was so full of life and kindness only an hour before, was now dying in front of him.

By the time the ambulance arrived, she was gone. When the official interviews were done, and the band of grieving friends had dispersed, James was left sitting alone on the beach. He looked out over the horizon and saw the first gleams of the day’s light. The dead girl’s face was now burned into his memory, along with the song that she sang during her last day on Earth. It was in that moment James realized what it was that he needed to do. Ending his life was not the answer. Starting his life was. He would go back, take anything of value he could, and he would leave without saying a word.

The adrenaline of the life and death events of the past day carried him back to his parent’s home to gather what he could. When he closed the door behind him, he felt a smile creep onto his face. For the first time in his life, he had nowhere to go and no resources to get there, but it was also the first time he felt free from the shackles of a miserable existence. As he started walking down the main drag of the sleepy tourist shore town, he was struck with the irony of how it took the death of this stranger to inspire him to start living his own life. And, he planned to do just that. The further away he got from the repression of Olivia and Wallace’s control, the more he felt his fear of the unknown slip away. He was going to live in a way that was both for him and the raven-haired beauty that reminded him of life, love, and laughter.

Putting everything behind him, James stepped foot onto the train and bought a ticket for the furthest destination he could afford. As the train left the station, and the conductor’s announcements were complete, the music overhead began playing. James watched as the small town disappeared into the distance, as the familiar melody of “Dream a Little Dream of Me” played from the speakers above him. He smiled and hummed along.

[kathleenseiber]

African Americans forged free lives in Civil War refugee camps

Refugee camps for African Americans during the Civil War show how they built a future from the ashes of slavery, a historian explains.

More than 300 refugee camps sprang up during the war with more than 800,000 African Americans passing through them at some point. Most residents were slaves or ex-slaves fleeing the clutches of their enslavers and the Confederate army, estimates Abigail Cooper, an assistant professor of history at Brandeis University who has a joint appointment in African and African American Studies.

Others came to find family members who had been sold to different slave owners.

“By looking at this in-between moment when slavery’s end was possible but not assured, we can look to how African Americans made and lived out freedom on their own terms,” Cooper says.

“African Americans gathered to forge a monumental psychological transformation from knowing America as their enslaver to envisioning America as their home.”

Cooper wrote about the camps in her 2015 PhD dissertation and more recently in the Journal of African American History.

Mary Armstrong’s story

In 1863, newly freed from bondage and living in St. Louis, 17-year-old Mary Armstrong did the unthinkable—she journeyed to the slave-holding South.

Armstrong, one of more than 2,000 former slaves who told their stories to the New Deal’s Federal Writers’ Project in the late 1930s, had been separated from her parents as a child when they were sold to other owners.

Mary Armstrong in 1937. (Credit: Library of Congress)

Armstrong learned through the grapevine that her kin might be in Texas so, as she says in her interview, “away I goin’ to find my mamma.”

With the Civil War raging, she set out with two baskets full of food and clothing and a small amount of money, traveling more than 1,000 miles by boat and then stagecoach to Texas.

In Austin, she was captured and put up for bid, securing her freedom only at the last minute by showing her papers to the Texas official in charge of the auction.

Armstrong eventually found her mother in the city of Wharton, some 150 miles south of Austin, at a refugee camp for African Americans.

Armstrong described the reunion: “Lawd me, talk ’bout cryin’ and singin’ and cryin’ some more, we sure done it.”

Armstrong later went on to become a nurse in the Houston area, saving numerous lives in the yellow fever epidemic of 1875.

What were the refugee camps like?

A camp could hold anywhere from a few hundred to several thousand people, most of them living in barracks or fabric tents.

The Union set up some of the camps, the first two in 1861 along the coast in Virginia and South Carolina, followed by others in Kentucky and Tennessee and along the Mississippi River from New Orleans to St. Louis, Missouri. Officially, they were called “contraband camps,” because freed people were considered property confiscated from the South.

Another group of camps located mainly in the South behind Confederate lines was created ad hoc by blacks themselves. (Cooper has posted an interactive map of the locations of the camps).

At a camp in Hampton, Virginia called Slabtown and later the Grand Contraband Camp, African Americans built houses so sturdy the Union later appropriated them to house troops.

There were also four black schools in the camp, one of which became the future site of Hampton University, one of the premier historically black educational institutions in the country.

Life as a refugee

Conditions in many of the camps were squalid and disease was common. Black refugees lived in constant fear and terror of raids from southern whites. At one point, the Confederate army plundered and burned Slabtown to the ground.

Whites also lived in the camps, most of them seeking shelter from the war. They were treated differently from blacks. A rations list Cooper discovered for a camp in New Bern, North Carolina, shows that 1,800 whites received 76½ barrels of flour over the course of three months in 1862-63. During the same period, the 7,500 blacks there received 19 barrels.

But despite the hardships and oppression, Cooper says that the camps offered the formerly enslaved people their first opportunity to savor freedom, reunite as families and lay the groundwork for a new society and religion.

Fugitive African Americans fording the Rappahannock River in Virginia, August 1862. (Credit: Library of Congress)

Never before had so many former slaves of so many different cultures gathered in such concentrations with the possibility of freedom near. There was an exchange of ideas, traditions, and rituals that fostered literacy and education and led to religious revivals.

Camp inhabitants compared their plight to the Israelites in the desert in the book of Exodus, freed from slavery but not yet delivered to their new country.

“More than anything, we should make careful study of the remarkable amount of resourcefulness it took for refugee slaves to gather their families into Union lines, to build information networks, to pray, eat, hoe, sing, give birth, share living space, take care of each other’s children, to imagine home while in a place outside a ‘household,'” Cooper wrote in her dissertation.

Over and over again, the residents in the camps talk about the importance of shoes. On plantations, masters kept slaves’ footwear locked up at night so they couldn’t escape. A good pair of shoes was necessary to make the difficult trek, sometimes through forests and rocky terrain, to the camps. Without shoes, you could more easily be picked out in a crowd as an escaped slave, and kidnappers lurked, attempting to sell people back into slavery.

Refugees carried money and protective charms in their shoes. They also fashioned footwear from plantain leaves. Their pungent smell was useful in throwing off the scent of the hounds patrollers and former owners used to track them down.

A common song went, “I got shoes, you got shoes, All o’ God’s chillun got shoes. When I get to heav’n I’m goin’ to put on my shoes.”

Religious freedom

Cooper says folk religion informed black visions for their new society. Emancipation as a divine reckoning was the lens through which they defined liberty. Freedom meant the right to practice their religion.

It was through refugee camps, Cooper wrote in her thesis, that black refugees “sought to transform the Egypt of the Slave South into a New Canaan.”

“Their great soul-hungering desire was freedom.”

Critical to this was the ability to read the Bible for themselves for the first time in their lives. Southern slaveholders had used selected passages to justify slavery.

African Americans in the camps now formed Bible study groups and found scripture to support their liberation. The Jubilee in the Old Testament marks the day when Hebrew slaves would be freed from bondage in Egypt. African Americans created their own Emancipation Jubilee on January 1, 1863, the day the Emancipation Proclamation went into effect.

Another jubilee was celebrated in 1865 with the passage of the 13th Amendment abolishing slavery. And a grand jubilee celebrated annually well into the 20th century as “Juneteenth” commemorated June 19th, 1865, when word of southern surrender reached black camps in Texas.

Grieving was an all too common experience in the camps, but black refugees in the camps turned mourning rituals into opportunities for empowerment. “There was all this death going on around them,” Cooper says, “but they were dying in freedom, and that meant something. Many saw going back to slavery as even worse.”

One woman who had three of her children die in a camp expressed relief because she knew where her children were buried. If they had been sold away from her, she would not know whether they lived or died or how to mourn them.

In what were called “watch meetings” or “watch-night meetings” or “setting up,” adults at all-night funerals danced, clapped, prayed, and experienced ecstatic visions.

“The slaves would sing, pray, and relate experiences all night long,” former slave Mary Gladdy says. “Their great soul-hungering desire was freedom.”

Jennie Boyd’s story

Jennie Boyd’s contractions had already started when her family realized they had to move on. She had been hiding out in Springfield, Missouri, but now her owners were close to finding her. Meanwhile, the Wilson’s Creek battle on August 10, 1861, raged nearby, making it dangerous to stay any longer.

The Boyds headed west toward Arizona accompanied at times by a retreating regiment of the Confederate army. Jennie told her 4-year-old daughter Emma to stay close and not go near anything that was smoking in case it was an explosive.

Jennie was in full labor by the time the family arrived in Bethphage, some 80 miles to the southwest. It was little more than a camping ground in the wilderness, but it was here that Jennie gave birth.

The baby was born “sick and delicate,” Emma later recalled, but she survived. Jennie honored the camp by naming her newborn after it—Priscilla Bethpage.

The Boyds continued west but soon crossed paths with a band of Union soldiers who offered to take them back to Springfield where one of Jennie’s other daughters remained enslaved. The family found refuge there in the home of a white Union sympathizer.

When the war ended in 1865, the family moved to a black settlement known as “Dink-town” in central Arkansas. Emma says freed people there “dug holes in the ground, made dug-outs, brush houses, with a piece of board here and there, whenever they could find one, until finally they had a little village.”

They were staking their claims on making homes in freedom as best they could. It was here, Emma says, that “they sang and prayed and rejoiced.”

Views of freedom

Cooper’s research points to a new way of understanding the political emancipation of African Americans. Often cast in terms of African Americans winning the right to vote or running candidates for office, Cooper believes there were other, equally fundamental ways that blacks viewed freedom.

Freedom had a spiritual dimension that fueled a radical transformation of what it meant to be a black American.

“W.E.B. DuBois says it almost a century ago: ‘To most of the four million black folk emancipated by the Civil War, God was real,'” Cooper says.

“The postwar period will present new forms of oppression and exploitation, but black Americans will still celebrate emancipation and how they made it. This will feed their ongoing freedom struggle and their resilience,” she says.

Source: Brandeis University

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[melody-hall]

when the party’s over | closed

After he had managed to get her fired - it wasn’t his fault, truly, she was set up to fail- but it still felt like he was having his revenge on her. And she still was the bad person in all this. Melody was trying, she was really trying but everyone was working against her. After they left the bar, Melody came back home but they were already sleeping, and she slipped away before they could ask her any questions. She had spent the day out on the town, looking for what to do for dinner to redeem herself and break the news that she got fired. On her first day. Because she got into an argument with her drunk ex-boyfriend who also happened to be the father of the child, she had kept a secret for 10 years. Her head started to hurt as she tried to make sense of what was happening to her life. People’s lives aren’t supposed to be like soap operas. As much as she was happy to get away from that bald beast, she felt frustrated that her chance of starting a new life and getting better was shortly-lived. Melody could have dealt with the asshole boss and pervy costumers always looking at her like she was a piece of meat, but it had all gone to waste, there wasn’t even a chance to go back and beg for a new chance. 

She came back home with a slam of the front door, throwing her purse into the ground. Dash was in the kitchen looking at her with wide eyes. She let herself fall in the couch, hoping to be swallowed by the cushions. “What happened?” He asked cautiously. Melody let out a loud groan, she was done being contained “I can’t stand seeing that…” she searched for the right words “… that bitch!” She settled. “Mel…” Dash started but Melody looked at him “No. I know! I know! My fault! I understood that the first time. Loud and fucking clear! If I didn’t want this to happen, I should have just stayed put. I know. That’s all I think about. That’s all everyone tells me! But I’m still fucking angry. I’m still…” she grabbed a cushion and screamed into it “Ugh! Fucking bitch! And what kind of name is Eliana?” It had only been for a second that she stared at his phone, but she remembered every detail, like how he was hugging her, and she was holding on to him “Sounds like fucking iguana if you ask me”. She threw the cushion on the ground “How could he have done this to me?” Dash tilted his head at her “I know! I know! I fucked up! Big surprise! Fucking hell! I know! I already know! I’m a bad person! Fuck me! Why don’t I just stand in the town square and people could just stone me and put me out of my god fucking misery!” The words that she had pushed down, feeling undeserving of this anger, finally came up to surface “Why does she have to act so worried? Ugh! Fuck her! Fuck her fucking face! But that’s already what he-” she had to stop herself before she uttered the words, if she said it out loud it would become true and she couldn’t deal with that. She grabbed the cushion again and screamed at it until she felt satisfied. She would never feel truly satisfied, the hole in her chest weighed too heavily. “She was just there… shopping for food” she said the last words mockingly. “Did she see you?” Dash asked, unsure if he should talk “No, of course fucking not, I fucking ran out of there as soon as I saw her. She probably doesn’t even know about me. She just thinks I’m some fucking lowlife bartender” Was a lowlife bartender, she corrected herself. Melody stopped for a moment “Un-be-fucking-lievable. How dare he! He didn’t even mention a fucking word about me. She didn’t know who I was. Fucking asshole” She paused for a moment before letting out a loud groan “And I even forgot my shit at the store! Ugh! I hate myself!” She punched the cushion. All the anger that she pushed down because she felt like the wasn’t allowed to feel that were finally bubbling up to the surface “And I know I wasn’t completely a saint. I went out on a date. One! Uno! It was the cook from the diner, we had a kiss, but I couldn’t do it because he reeked of fucking burgers and he wasn’t…” she could feel the tears threatening to spill “… he wasn’t him” she slumped again back on the couch and sobbed. “Am I really that replaceable?” She glanced at him “Don’t answer that”. The anger kicked in again “I hate everything! I hate this stupid town! I hate his fucking stupid face! I hate that fucking bitch! I fucking hate everything!” After she was done, she felt out of breath “And here fucking little pathetic Melody is, soaking wet because it’s fucking raining. How the fuck did that even happen? It never fucking rained here, why did it start to rain here now for fucking fucks sake. What the fuck is this, shit on Melody day?” She tried to take off her jacket, but it started to get tangled up in her arms and she couldn’t be free of it “Oh for fucks sake! Shit! Motherfucker” and with a load groan she threw the damp jacket on the ground before storming into to her room “I need a fucking smoke”, closing the door with a slam. She let out another groan as she faced his painting. Why did she even think that putting it up would be a good idea? She wanted to throw it out the window. Or break it in half over her knee. Light it up and start a fire, maybe conjure up some spirit or something to haunt him. She just wanted to never see it again. She took it out of the wall, holding it in her hands for a second deciding its fate and settled on shoving it inside the box again, kicking the box to a hidden corner of her closet to never look at it again, like she had done for 10 years. She rummaged inside her purse for that little packet that she kept with her always. After she found out she was pregnant, she stopped smoking, she had to, and she decided to keep it like that for the rest of years. Mel wanted to be a good role model. But she always kept a carton in her purse - just in case. Before she flicked the lighter on, she took a good look at it and realized. He had given that to her. For a second, she felt nostalgic of all the good times they had spent together, she truly believed they were meant to be together, only for it to crash and burn. Anger started to bubble up again in her chest, she opened her window and threw the lighter as far away as she could. Mel stormed back to the kitchen, Dash was still on the same spot, she opened a cupboard, grabbed the bottle of whiskey he had opened a few nights before “Need a drink too” she said before retreating into her room again.

She woke with someone shaking her. She groaned “Stop it” her head hurt. “Mel, we need to talk” Dash warned her. “We’re already talking” With a sigh she lifted herself, squinting at the sunlight. She didn’t remember falling asleep on the couch. Why was her phone shattered on the floor? She just remembered coming home venting about her. Dash stood there, looking down at her. “Last night, Mel…” She rolled her eyes, she already knew he was going to start a moral speech, he had the voice. She reached for her cigarettes, but he slapped her hand “The fuck?” she looked at him. “You’re going to listen to me now”. Melody slumped on the couch and looked at him expectantly “Your behaviour last night was atrocious, I thought you were starting to get better.” Mel shrugged “Well you know how it is. Got to live up to my reputation. I’m a terrible person, so why pretend I’m a good” she knew she was acting like a petulant child, but her common sense seemed to be long gone. He breathed deeply trying to keep himself calm “I know you have a lot to deal with and it hasn’t been easy” she let out a scoff, he ignored her and continued “That’s why I think it’s best if I take him to the Hamptons for a few days” Melody sat up, feeling more alert now “I’m sorry, what?”. Dash looked at her “My parents have a house in the Hamptons, there’s no one there this time of the year. I thought it’d be best for everyone for us to go away for a while” Melody got up  “You want to take my baby away from me?” she yelled at him, she couldn’t believe what he was suggesting “You know that’s not what I mean. You haven’t been yourself, you’ve been acting weird and you’re upsetting him”. Melody glared at him “Now I’m a bad mother, is that what you’re saying. That I can’t take care of my own son. Is that it Dash?” Dash got up too “You know that’s not it, Melody. You’re scaring him, you haven’t explained anything to him, he doesn’t deserve this!” Melody knew he was right, deep down. “He’s my baby. I’m his mother” she felt like she had turned on this anger and couldn’t turn it back down. She rolled her eyes at Dash “He really takes after his father, huh?” Mel grabbed her cigarettes, Dash didn’t try to stop her this time, and moved to the window “Making me feel guilty when I was only trying to do the right thing” she didn’t mean it, she didn’t mean any of the words that seemed to slip out of her these days. She lit her cigarette and stared out the window. “Just because you think you’re doing the right thing, doesn’t mean you’re doing it the right way!” His voiced raised to almost a shout, his words cut deeply inside of her, but it felt like just one more thing that ached inside her and it had turned into a point that it just blended into a massive feeling of emptiness inside her. Dash sighed “I’m really disappointed in you, Mel”. Melody sneered at him “Oh just fuck off to the Hamptons, Dash” and turned her attention back to the window. She didn’t say goodbye, she would regret that, she regretted it that very night, she just watched them load his car and drive off. She felt stuck. She was going nowhere. She couldn’t go back now, she had already started her moving process and quit her job at the diner. Well, the manager fired her, but she couldn’t really blame him, she had been gone for too long. This was it. She was suspended in the air of what her life would be like. For the first time of her life, she’d always have a plan. Her chance at a job was gone. Had she fucked up this badly? She wished someone would tell her the magic solution to fixing everything because the more she tried, the worst things got. Maybe that was the solution, she thought. She just had to not exist, because her very existence seemed to make everything worst. As if I never existed.

Melody looked outside, it was probably a reasonable hour to go outside. She had a mission. In and out as fast as possible. The longer she was outside the longer the chances of running into someone. Some one. The closest liquor store was already open. She grabbed her favorite - whiskey. With two bottles, one in each hand, she stood there pondering on the third before deciding on it and carrying them awkwardly to the cashier. “Starting early” The man said, why did everyone felt like they could just stick their nose in people’s business “Didn’t stop” Mel answered, avoiding eye contact as she tried to add up the total in her head, flipping through her bills “If you think this is gonna help…”. Mel snapped her head up and glared at the man “You know what, Glenn?” he looked confused “My name isn’t-” Mel didn’t let him finish “I’m going to give you a business advice. Because I’m nice like that. If you didn’t stick your fucking huge ass nose in people’s business maybe your wife would still fuck you and not once a blue moon with the lights off, so she can pretend it’s the hot blonde bartender at the bar she goes to for ‘girls night’ and not some middle-aged, potbellied, balding asshole with a pencil dick who’s done in 2 seconds. And you wouldn’t have to stay here all day everyday, sitting your fat ass behind the counter distracting yourself from your fucking sexless miserable life by bothering your fucking costumers” She glared at him, his fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles were white “So keep the advice and shove it up your ass because we both know no one else. Might actually find out you like it”. The man was livid, and she knew she had gone too far but what could she say now ‘oopsie I’m sorry, having a bad week or a bad life’ “Get. Out” he snarled at her, Melody slammed a 50-dollar bill on the counter “Going to. Keep the change, asshole”. Mel grabbed the bottles, she was making her way out of the store before stopping and turning back “Do you have a bag I can put these into?” she asked him, keeping a straight face “I’m calling the police” the man threatened “Okay. I’m going. Costumer service is really going downhill” If her hands were free, she’d flip him off, but the bottles were too precious for the satisfaction of pissing him off even more. Another person to add to the ‘people who hate Melody’ list, it kept getting bigger and bigger each day. Luckily, there was still another liquor store she could resort to, but hopefully she wouldn’t need to. Melody entered the apartment. Silence. It was both welcoming and disturbing. In these few days she had gotten used to the constant little noises from Dash and the kid but now they were both gone, and she was all alone. She caught a glance of herself on the hallway mirror and saw that she was still wearing the locket. The locket he had given her. She settled the bottles on the counter and furiously tried to unclasp the locket from behind her neck. Her hands were shaking, she was still feeling the light buzz from the night before that didn’t really wore off making an already difficult task even harder. It was starting to feel as if the necklace itself was choking her, she couldn’t breathe, she had to get it out. So, she pulled and tugged the necklace until it snapped, breaking the chain. She threw the damn thing to a corner of the living room not sure where it landed.

It was still late in the afternoon most people were going about their days, arriving from work, starting to get ready to end the day. But Melody was just starting her day, or something that resembled like a routine. Melody with a bottle in one hand and a blanket under her arm, she made her way to the roof of the building. She, Dash and Tip used to go there and look at the stars, making up constellations. She took Barrel there sometimes too. The best memories she had of him were the simplest ones. Sharing a blanket, staring at the stars. Driving around listening to music. Even grocery shopping. She picked a spot that wasn’t completely damp from all the rain and sat there, wrapped around in a blanket taking swigs of her drink in-between drags of her cigarettes watching the sky go from blue, to orange, to pink. She could hear the town going on their lives, she could hear the cars passing by, people greeting in the streets, laughing. But her life was stuck, she felt like a giant bolder in the middle of everyone’s way, unable to move, becoming a burden to everyone. Melody felt so alone. Everyone left her. Everyone hated her. Her parents hated her. Barrel hated her. Dash hated her. Her son hated her. She sobbed, what else could she do? She had tried to do the right thing, she really did. She couldn’t live with the responsibility that’d she’d ruin his life, but trying to spare him of that she ended up doing it anyway. He had told her, specifically and directly to her face. At least Mel couldn’t blame him for not being honest. She wanted to blame him, but she couldn’t, but she wanted to. She was the only to blame and she knew that. At that moment, in the roof, alone, she wanted nothing more than for him to hug her, hold her, stroke her hair, they would stay quiet just in each other’s arms looking up at the sunset, listening to each other’s breaths. Instead, she was alone and cold. Her fear of people leaving her had made them leave her. What a terrible irony. She started to feel her eyes becoming heavy and didn’t bother to move downstairs, she embraced the cold, at least now the outside matched the inside – cold and dull.

They had been gone for a long time now. She wasn’t sure how long because the days tended to blur together now. Melody slept during the day and stayed up most of the night. Thankfully, 24-hour diner were a thing and the people there didn’t spare her a second look. She’d call the place, put in an order and about half an hour later she would stop by and bring it home. Simple. Easy. She would eat, drink and then fall asleep, because she was always so tired. She felt like she had run the marathon – or ran over by a marathon, like she had been a victim of an elephant stampede. She’d wake up in the middle of the afternoon, run to the bathroom, have a couple smokes and try keeping the apartment slightly presentable so that when they came back – if they ever came back – they wouldn’t be greeted to a horror scene. Forever thinking of others, she thought as she was putting the empty bottles on the trash, but one ever thinks of you. Melody tried to shake those thoughts away from her. Rationally, she knew her mind was playing tricks on her but the voice in her head made some valid points, its arguments were strong. No one needed her. Melody had based her identity in people needing her and she, in turn, helping them. No one needed her or wanted her around. Not him. Not even her baby. He was better off with Dash. Everyone was better off without her. And she was better off gone. Quit being a burden to everyone. She had had these thoughts before, they lead her to take the cowardly exit of running away, instead the most effective route. Melody closed her eyes, trying to stop these feelings. But how can one stop feelings, or thoughts, or emotions, or memories. It’s like asking the sun to stop shining or the earth to stop moving.

Melody sat in front of the older, well dressed man. “So, what was the urgent matter you needed to take care of?” he asked in a calm, soft voice. Mel couldn’t help but fidget in her seat, even at her age important ‘adult’ matters still made her feel uncomfortable and inadequate. “Um…” she searched for the right words but decided that this wasn’t the time to descriptive, so she went straight to the subject “I want to make Dash legal guardian of my child in case of my death” she looked up at the man. He raised his eyebrows, surprised at her request “You’re still young, why do you want to do this? He asked. Melody sighed “I just want to be sure that he’s taken care of”. Truthfully, she didn’t want to admit that she feared that she would do something to herself. He nodded, writing down some notes “And what about the father? Isn’t he an option?”. Melody looked up at the ceiling in an attempt to stop the tears “The father…” she tried to think about the correct way to explain it all. “He doesn’t really accept him. Um… it’s my fault actually” her attempt to make everyone’s life easier by simply disappearing had made everything an even bigger mess. “But I don’t want to load him with that. Um… I believe Dash would be a better idea. Besides, they spelt his name wrong on the birth certificate so…” she shrugged. They thought Mel was being delirious when she tried to tell the name of the father. Back then she didn’t care much about it, she was never going to come back, but now that her plans have changed, she needed a new plan for the future and that included making sure her child had a future even without her.

Melody paced around in her apartment with a cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth, with a sudden burst of decisiveness and sobriety, she grabbed her keys and headed out. Melody kept her head down, trying to not attract attention. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, it was a new phone, after she had shattered the old one. Dash enlightened her to what happened to her phone. Apparently, her drunken memory had managed to reach into the depths of her psyche and remember her old password for her social media that she used in her twenties and started scrolling though the pictures, that’s what made her want to destroy her phone into a million pieces. Her new phone was the cheapest one she could find; the screen was already cracked from falling off her hands. She looked at screen: no notifications. Nothing. No one really cared about her. Melody rubbed the tears off to her sleeve and carried on. It was beginning to rain lightly, she simply put up her hoodie without making much of an effort to shield herself from it. If she got sick, who cared? No one was going to take care of her. She wandered through the streets, sometimes bumping into people because she would react too slowly and not move away from the person in time. She thought she felt her phone vibrating and quickly pulled it out, but it was only to signal the low battery. Melody made a mental note to charge it whenever she got back home but it had been going on like this for two days and she forgot every time. Every time she would walk back home, she would drink until oblivion because the sight of the apartment upset her. It was tinted with memories, not only of Barrel but also Dash and Tip and the absence of everyone drove her insane. Melody stood there looking at the beach. The ocean looked furious and scary, with big waves crashing against the rocks and the shore. She took off her shoes, carrying them in one hand. She found a spot in the sand, far away from the shore, keeping a distance, she just needed to be close to the ocean, not caring how dangerous it looked. She laid in the sand, with her eyes closed listening to the waves. Wishing a big wave would just come, whisk her away and let her become part of the ocean.

[psotu19]

Parrish Art Museum, Water Mill, NY: Story Circle #1, January 26, 2018

ROUND ONE

Josh (moderator): Thought about this a lot. I used to travel on the west coast–went to a country fair in Oregon for a few days. Years later, I wanted to go back. Came two months before the event. There was a gatekeeper–a close-knit family. I was on the outside of it. I had to prove myself to them doing all the dirtiest jobs to prove myself. 3-day festival. Going for 8 years. This year I couldn’t go–was out here. They were such a support for me.

Casey: Coming out here for 30 years. Full-time 3 years ago. Works in financial services, Citibank. Got me out here. I wasn’t always in corporate environment. My story is a life-changing event. I worked independently. I decided to open an agency. It was a huge success, too fast. I struggled with payroll. I had to pay people working for me every week, whether or not the client paid. But my blue-chip clients weren’t paying. I had no assets, single, divorced, couldn’t get financing. Gave me a huge resentment. Had to give up the business. With that resentment, stopped paying taxes. If the government was in debt, why couldn’t I be in debt. Went to Debtors Anonymous. Changed my life. Opened idea of manifesting things in your life.

Sheila: Lives in Sag Harbor. Moved out here 16 years ago. Born and raised in North Carolina. Teaches art, is an artist. Grew up in the South, late 50s-60s, I witnessed that divisiveness, segregation, and having Trump in office, even before with Obama, you could feel the hate resurfacing. Now the light has been shined. Speaking as a teacher with high school kids, there is a lot of conservatism out here on the East End. Even amongst the liberals from the city. They aren’t budging in their thought processes. I see it in the kids. There are some great kids, but it’s there. I didn’t realize it when I came out in the summer. Living out here–you see it. Incredibly Republican and conservative. There are little pockets, but overall, it’s conservative.

Mick: Born and raised in England. Out here for 50 years. Read a book in 1962 about young people who travel. I found it interesting. A friend and I did just that. We came to America. They asked if we were going to stay, we said no–just visiting. That was spring of 1963. There was a lot not to love–we didn’t know about it. A lot was very attractive. We thought this was the place we’d spend our lives. I’ve been here 54 years. Didn’t give up my citizenship; once a Brit, always a Brit. The difference between then and now is quite amazing, quite amazing.

Jackie: Lives on Shelter Island. Out here full time since 2005. Artist.

I feel like I was totally blindsided by the election. Had no idea the country was so divided.  Grew up in the South. Sister still lives there. I was sure my niece was pro-Trump. Shocking. Weird and terrible to see the hate and nasty ways of thinking and tribalism from my niece—who’s an adult. Coming to grips with the fact that we are so divisive. Out here and in NYC it’s so liberal. None of my friends are pro-Trump. Outside, it’s strange to see there are totally different tribes.

Judy: Born in India, raised in England. Writer.

One of the things that struck me after the election was going back to England and hearing the reactions. Jokes that have sprung from it. I’m not a US citizen but I have my green card. This was the first time in the U.S. that I became a citizen. It’s been a swirl. I also go back to India. Really interesting. People there–a lot more like “well, maybe he’s a good thing for the U.S. That was hard for me, didn’t know where to go with that.

Jonathan (30): From Brooklyn, Montauk now. Was a chef, now works on music. And artist.

For 8 years, I had a big drug problem. Heroin. 3 rehabs. I’ve been clean over a year. On Vivitrol. Legal in NY State, the only place it’s legal. My stigma is that I’m an addict. People forgive addicts who are no longer with us, but not with addicts still alive. This reminds me of AA/NA. Similar.

Jon: I agree with everything Sheila says. You’re right about the pockets–mostly against Hispanics. I speak Spanish–they’re a part of my community. There is a lot of racism out here. There are communities that have been out here since the 1600s that are very conservative and set in their ways. I went to East Hampton high school. I experienced that same racism, bigotry.

Jackie: I understand that. I know it’s there. I don’t see those people, or I don’t have to see them. I’m in my own little bubble. Shelter Island, very few people of color.

Judy: You see it if you have a child in the school system. Went to East Hampton middle school. You see the bumper stickers on the cars.

Casey: I feel sheltered–I don’t see it. I’ve always felt that everyone on the East and West Coast are normal people. That everyone in the middle are different. It’s middle America and the Ozarks I’m worried about. I was raised Republican—I’ve always been an independent. I’m embarrassed by what’s going on in our country. I watch foreign tv—it disturbs me what they think about us.

Sheila: Where can we all meet? I don’t know. I hate to sound pessimistic, I think this (Story Circle) is the closest we can come to having a dialogue. With students, I try to keep politics out of the classroom. I stay neutral. They have strong opinions, ill-informed. The place to meet is with this younger generation—but they’re all so disengaged. I was pleased at the Women’s March. A lot of my students went. We can meet by starting a dialogue with our young.

Jonathan: I rap. I’m pretty big. I don’t know what kids like anymore, and I’m only 30.  

Jackie: I have no exposure to kids. No kids in my life.

Jonathan: Lucky you [laughter].

Casey: We should have some sort of standards of behavior. The way people speak to each other, name-calling. Some of the behavior our kids are seeing disturbs me.

Sheila: Kids, we’ve all had unacceptable behavior. What I’m seeing is at the top it’s being sanctioned, and it seems to be ok. It’s like the kids are mirroring the behavior—because of the president. I’m seeing bold-faced lies, in your face. I’m starting to question myself. I had a kid out for a few weeks. I asked where he was. He was in the hospital. He said, It’s ok, I just od’ed [overdosed].

Jon: How do you instill that back?

Sheila: I don’t know.

Jonathan: We also have the out-of-country theme. When I was 15 I lived in Brazil for a year. 2001. 3 weeks before 9/11. I just think back on how that experience…. Maybe this isn’t the time to send kids out of the country. [laughter]

Sheila: Forget about other countries. Kids don’t even go to the city.

Mick: I’m a documentary filmmaker. The kids I talked to say, I’ve been to the city. I went to Shea Stadium!

Sheila: More people are coming out here from the city.

Mick: All my years traveling around, I never spoke to anyone who wasn’t an immigrant. What it seemed to me talking to these people, as the generation goes from immigrant family, as they became more American. They become more and more insular.

Josh: Sum up, one word.

Judy: Pessimism–which I’m not a fan of.

Sheila: I am optimist. I see glimmers of hope with my students. Sometimes they surprise me, which is nice. They’re stressed. I see it. I have seniors SO stressed, almost in tears, over college applications. Wondering what to do with their lives.

Jackie: Are there citizenship classes in the schools?

Sheila: No–but there’s model U.N., gay/straight alliance.

Josh: We didn’t have that when I was in school.

Internationalism

Karma

Bubble

Hopeful

Tribalism/hopeful

Hopeful

ROUND TWO

Josh: I’ve been thinking about this story.

The work I do involves a lot of towns, communication with many community members, experts in the fields. I find myself in these meetings with people I align with politically, where we can work together. But alliances form–that’s the way people are.

Being new to that, I found myself where we’re constantly arguing, with one person in particular. Interesting dynamics. I agreed with him on principal, over the course of months, it go to the point where I was no longer welcome. I reached out to him today—we both said we learned a lot from each other.

Jonathan: Work now for the Ryan Show. We had a woman on the show who was running for office. She moved to the Hills in Southampton, where residents are mostly African American. Her neighbors were young kids who like to be outside, play basketball. They had a block party–she called police, used the N word. On the show, we got her and the woman she called the name in the same room. To work it out. They couldn’t. She couldn’t understand why some people could use that word and she couldn’t. It’s that engrained thinking–she didn’t understand the culture. But she did come–came alone. Trying to work on it.

Sheila: When I go back to North Carolina, there’s a real disconnect of how I feel about the state. Very right politics. NC has always had pockets of intelligence, education, from the tobacco money. It started to shift. Going back, it has gotten really red. I find I have little tolerance to have a dialogue. So, I just shut down and don’t talk to anyone. Racism has always been there. Nothing new. Blatant. Yes, there are hate crimes now, but it’s nothing like it was. If we continue with power of separatism, we could slowly inch back to that time frame.

Judy: When I moved to London from India, it was at the height of “Paki bashing”, white supremacists beating Indians. My brother got beaten up by boys with steel tip boots. Look where London is now: most cosmopolitan, most interracial. I can’t believe that when we would go to an Indian restaurant we would have to sneak out. Now, it’s nothing to go. It’s interesting how that trajectory can change.

Casey: I keep telling my daughter to watch British tv shows—more diversity. Why aren’t we seeing that here? Back to changing my life, learning tools from 12 steps. One tool was vision boards. My boss bullied me—he would tell me how to write an email! Went on for months. Couldn’t stand working for him. I started writing about how I’d like it to be, rather than what it was. I wrote every day. That my boss and I got along, it was great. We are friends now. If I had let the resentment fester, it wouldn’t be like that.

Jackie: We talked a lot about color, differences, but also, socio-economic divisions. Unfortunately, we’re not respecting of each other. I think, on Shelter Island, there’s a lot of decency, people respect each other. There are so many issues, we just have to be decent with each other.

Mick: Again, when I first came here, landing in America, waited for our green card. It was very easy in the early 60s. We had a Triumph Spitfire, steering on the righthand side. We drove through Little Rock, Arkansas. Had no idea of what was going on here. We were in outskirts, starving, pulled into a breakfast spot. Not a white person within 100 miles. We were the only white people. They were fascinated by us–our haircuts, the car. I think back, is it because we were so naïve? We felt perfectly safe.

Judy: I saw an image from a local photographer that she took at the Women’s March. Two women kissing. Really going at it. Kissing passionately. And in the background, drunk 20-year old guys with Trump hats looking at them like the world had ended! [laughter]

Jackie: I saw a photo from the March too–young men with a sign that said “we hate #us too”.

Mick: I’m hoping that something will bounce back. That my grandchildren’s generation will see things differently. I saw a change at the time people thought money was the key to everything.  My kids are struggling to keep up with their peers, so many millions being made on Wall Street. We have a house we rent out–usually to wall street guys. It’s so much money, but to them it’s nothing.

Real estate agents will say they’re renting because they’re waiting to see what happens.

Josh: How do you get younger kids engaged—use technology to connect.

Jonathan: According to kids, they are so busy, they have no time. As a musician I ask how do I STAY engaged.

Mick: Very hard not to give your kids what you want them to have. My son graduated with $240,000 of debt. I tried desperately to get my kids to take a year off and see the world before they start college.

Sheila: I don’t know how to get kids engaged. Has to be through social media or technology or you have lost them. They don’t respond to anything that isn’t connected to technology.

Mick: I don’t think we realize what things will be like in 10 years. If you think of last 15 years, I found one of those brick phones.

Mick: I was with my 6 year old grandson, couldn’t find my way to the restaurant. He said give me your cell phone grandpa. Started googling, then I heard a voice say “turn right.”  He’s six years old. It’s a different world.

Sheila: Thinking of my mom who was 93. Her father lived to 105, still walking. A couple of years after Obama was in office, I was home. She has Alzheimer’s. Obama was on the television. She asked “is that the President?” I said yes. She said, “Is there a colored president!?” She couldn’t believe it was possible in her lifetime.

Mick: My son says that if that (Alzheimer) happened to me, we’d go skydiving but I wouldn’t get a parachute.

Josh: Around the time of the Solar Eclipse, I saw pictures of kids holding up phones, that they were looking at this phenomenon through an iphone.

Sheila: If you go to a museum, people have their phones and are taking pictures of the artwork. They just walk up to the art and snap a picture and walk away. Rather than stopping and looking.

Jackie: with photography, there’s a moment where you can experience it or capture it.

[One group sang Amazing grace. Others joined in]

End.