#although I guess crab was decent too but not as funny

[vitiateoriginator]

Guys Im stuck on mobile til 7, somebody tell me what april fools gag tumblr cooked up for this year /gen

[darthrena]

(Your Kisses) Taste like Come what May

Excerpt:

“I promise you will love her.  She’s funny, smart, absolutely gorgeous–Just one date is all I am asking.”

“What has gotten into you all of a sudden.  Is this girl on the run from ICE or something?”

“Armie asked me to marry him.”

Ben felt his world collapsing.  His mild amusement long forgotten under the weight of a thousand unspoken words, missed opportunities, and imagined confessions.

Rose’s voice seemed to come from far away.  "Ben?  Aren’t you going to say anything?“

Ben swallowed, forced his throat to produce sounds other than screaming, or worse, a sob.  Oddly, when his mouth felt capable of speech, it was a faint rasp, no hint of the tempest which roiled within.  "Congratulations.  You deserve to be happy.”

o-o-o-o-o-o

Summary:

Ben, Rose and Hux grew up together.  Ben loves Rose, but Rose and Hux are together.  After Rose and Hux become engaged, Rose tries to set Ben up with her friend Rey.  He reluctantly agrees to go on a date.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

A step over the threshold and the familiar creaking of wood, weakened by time and salt-air, and aroma of hearty chowder and ale engulfing his senses, Ben knew he made the right choice.

Nestled between a trendy Korean tapas place and a shoe repair shop with flaking blue paint Ben could recall from his childhood, Takodana was sedate even on a Saturday night. Eclectic knick knacks ranging from a Rico Petrocelli bobblehead, a 1984 Bruce Springsteen poster yellowing at the edges, a carved wooden mask allegedly depicting a warrior of Venezuelan origin, to vibrant weavings of alpaca wool, lined the walls and cluttered the entrance way. Questionable decor aside, the whiskey, unpretentious beef stew, fries and a decent chowder on the menu had long ago made it Ben's favorite bar.

The proprietress, Maz, eyed him from beneath thick rimmed glasses and a bevy of judgement as he slipped into his favorite booth across from the bar. "Ben Solo," she drawled, giving little reassurance in either tone or posture, hands on hips and brow arched.

"Hey Maz," he greeted warily, as Maz stepped from behind the counter.

At last the petite lady put him out of his misery. "I ran into your mother the other day. Said you haven't been home since Christmas."

Right. It wasn't like Ben was avoiding his mother, at least, anymore than usual.  After quitting his job, and getting away from Snoke's insidious manipulations, it had been cathartic almost, reconciling with his mother and Uncle.  your father would be proud, his mother's voice hoarse with tears of grief and pride.  As lovely and neat as the story would appear on the cover or told over dinner parties when his mother was three Merlots in and giving him meaningful, tearful glances--prodigal son returned home and joined his mother's firm--things were still a bit strained.  Their specialties of law differing as they did, weeks could go by without seeing his mother at the office.  Ben made a concerted effort to call his mother once a month, or at least have Kaydel order her flowers or a bottle of wine when he couldn't bring himself to.  "I've just been busy," he mumbled, unable to summon even a modicum of coolness in the face of such obvious disapproval.

Maz tutted at the flimsy excuse, but seemed to relent slightly, moving back toward the bar.  "It'll be the usual then?"

"Yeah."

Silence reigned but for the hub of other patrons chatting and the slight clink of glass as Maz's weathered hands deftly prepared his usual starting drink, an old fashioned.

Maz brought him his drink, laying it down on a lacy, crocheted coaster.  "You want the stew?  I also have a Saturday Chowder."

Ben twitched a smile.  "What makes it a Saturday Chowder again?"

"It's Saturday, isn't it?"

"So just the regular chowder then?"

The spry old lady made a swatting motion with a ladle nowhere near impacting him.  "Don't be fresh with me, Benjamin Organa Solo."

"Oh I wouldn't dare."  Ben took a savoring sip of his old-fashioned.  It was perfect as always.

Maz was shaking her head, a gleam in her eye that should have been a warning of the subject she had been warming up to.  "Just like your father, you are."

Ben forced himself to keep his shoulders from tensing.  It was easier now, breath in, breath out.  When he spoke, however, none of the grief and anger that had once roiled like an summer storm within him escaped.  "I guess so."

"You should go next week, Ben."  Maz's voice was so very gentle.  "Your mother needs you."

"I'll think about it."  Ben cleared his throat.  A burning feeling was crawling up his chest to gouge his eyes.  A judicious sip of his drink doused it slightly, but a distraction was welcome.  "I'll think about the Saturday chowder too.  Hux is joining me though, so I'll wait for him to order."

"Alright then."

After a brief pat against his shoulder, Maz went to attend to a middle aged couple across the bar, and Ben was left alone.

Three gnomes and a tarnished silvery ash tray shaped like a crab on the table beside him were his only company.  Ben spared them a slight smile touched with nostalgia.  The crab shaped ashtray had been a favorite as a child, tagging along with his Dad to Takodana on sweltering afternoons.  A whiff of tobacco, his father's gravely voice and lopsided smile, Don't tell your mother we came here instead of the zoo.

Ben had never minded.  Maz gave him coloring books and the best lemonade, sweating over lace doilies.  Uncle Chewie would drop by, ruffle his hair and tell stories about Mara, the Chieftain of Coquivacoa, who fought the Spanish Conquistadores, or of stomping through the rainforests of Java, weakened by Dengue fever and harangued by monkeys.

There was the sound of the bell ringing, a familiar red head ducking beneath a bright colored talisman.  Dark circles starkly shadowed Hux's steely green eyes, but he still lit up in a smile as his long strides brought him to the seat across Ben.

"Solo, sorry for running late.  Rose was piqued at the sudden boys night, and decided to distract me until I divulged the nature of our evening.  Alas, despite her efforts I kept mum."  Hux regarded him with raised eyebrows, a satisfied grin softening the highhanded tone.

Ben tried not to think too hard about the nature of the "distraction," while remarking dryly, "Easy enough when I haven't told you anything to divulge."

Hux remained unfazed.  "I had high expectations the lovely Rey would be featured."

Absurd though the impulse was, Ben felt a current of displeasure to hear his friend say her name so casually.  "You've met her?"

"Of course.  Rose has had her over several times.  As a fellow countryman, naturally I approve, but she's delightful company and holds her liquor well."

He thought back to the other night, of Rey, six drinks in straddling his face as he ate her out.  "That she does."

Old friends that they were, Hux allowed the topic to drop momentarily, waving over an only too happy Maz to place his order.

Food orders taken (Saturday chowder for Ben, the stew for Hux, with fries to share), Maz drew a IPA from the tap, while fixing her eager sights on Hux.  "'heard you finally made an honest woman of your girl.  Congratulations, dear.  Shame Rose couldn't come tonight."

Hux grinned back, the same beatific look he'd been sporting ever since Rose accepted his proposal lightening his naturally haughty features.  It was easier to focus on his glass and slowly diluting brown liquid as the ice melted, than Hux cheerfully accepting Maz's congratulations.  "--tonight's just us.  Rose sends her love."  Shooting Ben a wink he could do without, Hux continued slyly, "Perhaps next time we'll be back on a double date."

Fuck.

Maz swiveled with super human speed to bring the full throttle of her bespectacled gaze upon himself.  "Started seeing someone?" She cooed with feigned casualness than fooled no one.  Already Ben could sense the gears turning--Maz wasn't one for smartphones, but in the next 24 hours he imagined she would be calling on his mother for tea, or using Takodana's ancient rotary if she deemed the matter too pressing.

While glaring at an unrepentant Hux, Ben hurried to deescalate the conversation.  "It's nothing serious.  Hux is just giving me a hard time."

The man himself merely smiled innocently.  "Rose made it sound different.  Perhaps I misunderstood."

Maz seemed a little disappointed, if skeptical, but she left them to bring their orders to the kitchen.

Finally left alone, Hux dropped all pretense.  "Sorry, I had to tease you a little.  But you know Rey would love this place."

Rey would fit right in to Takodana.  It was easy to imagine Rey cozying across the booth, a tequila neat or a Belgian white ale in hand, cheeks flushed and hair loose as she gossiped with Maz and laughed too loud with Rose.  She would love hearing Uncle Chewie's tales that sounded half like fiction.  He could imagine her asking in that charming lilt about all the odd bops and bits in the shop, and telling her about the time he spilled a customer's beer over the velour bar seat or the time first he snuck a sip of alcohol and Dad had just laughed and Dad--

Dad would have loved her.

"Yeah, she would.""Ben..."  He glanced up at the rather serious tone, and solemn look Hux was sporting.  "Did you mean that?  About it being nothing serious."

Did he mean it?  He thought of Rose, smiling sadly as she told him, So do you, you know.  Of Rey's knowing hazel eyes.  You have feelings for Rose, don't you?

"I don't know," he admitted.

There was a sound of huffed laughter from his side.  "Dude, you have it bad."

Ben grimaced.  "Please, don't say Dude."

"Hombre."

"Please stop talking."

"Homie?"

The next couple hours passed in a blur of warm food and easy conversation.  Hux let Ben off the hook for the most part on the subject of Rey.  After Hux had drunkenly complained about the wedding planning for thirty minutes--"Why do we need to have a rehearsal dinner and a wedding?  Why must the party favors match the bridesmaid dresses?"-- Ben surprised himself by bringing it up.  Although, alcohol likely had somewhat to do with it.

"I don't know what to do about Rey."

"You should just call her, mate," Hux slurred with exasperation.

"And say what?" he snapped back.

Hux shrugged.  "I like you.  I want to date you?  Doesn't seem all that complicated."

"Easy for you to say," he muttered under his breath.  His head felt muddled under the weight of alcohol and confusion of his emotions.  "On our date, I told her that I'm not looking for a serious relationship."

"And?"

"And now I don't know what to do."  Hux was poised to argue again, so Ben cut him off hastily, "I don't know what I want to do."

After a moment's pause, Hux rubbed his face blearily.  "Look, Ben, I think you're overthinking this.  How do you know she's looking for a serious relationship?  She's what, 25 years old?  If you want to see her, tell her you want to see her.  If you want to date her, tell her that."

That seemed...reasonable.

Hux was right.  He didn't have to have everything figured out just yet.

If he wanted to see Rey again, then he should just ask her.

Which was how he found himself standing on the corner as he waited for his cab, dialing Rey's number.

It rang a few times, a length sufficient for Ben's anxiety to stir to life restlessly, before a sleepy voice answered at the last ring.

"Hello?"

"It's Ben."

"Ben!"  The voice sounded much more awake now.  There was a low chuckle that sent a warm, molten pulse through his veins.  She must have been sleeping.  Ben wondered idly if Rey slept bare as she had in his company, or if she wore a ratty t-shirt over panties, if her nipples pressed through the thin fabric.  His fantasies were interrupted by Rey continuing with obvious amusement, "I was following the advice of all those Just Seventeen magazines I read growing up, and planned to text you in the morning.  Seems like it paid off."

"Oh."  Ben considered this information for a moment.  "I read mostly read F&SF.  The fantasy and science fiction magazine.  They didn't offer much dating advice."

Now Rey laughed full out.  "No, I'd imagine not," she replied after catching her breath.

"I want to see you again."

Inebriated though he was, Ben could detect the smile in Rey's voice.  "We literally just saw each other this morning."

"Technically it was yesterday."

"That should tell you something of the appropriateness of your phone call."

Oops.  "Sorry."

There was another huff of laughter over the receiver that briefly whited the sound.  "Look Ben..."

That beginning was not promising.  Nerves bubbling up his gut, Ben was helpless against the flow of babble as he cut her off: "I can't stop thinking about you.  The way you taste.  Your cunt clenching on my tongue, the sounds you make when you come.  And the way you laugh.  Whether you like green tea tiramisu or hate IPAs."

"Fuck, Ben."  There was a weak laugh on the other end, overwhelmed and something else his alcohol impaired brain couldn’t translate.  "Are you always like this?"

"No," he breathed back.  "Not at all.  Never."

"Ben."  Her voice was a sweet sigh.  There had never been a more lovely sound than her lips around his name.  "I want you too.  It's just, well, what about Rose?"

"Rey."

His mind was in free fall.  The ground beneath his feet had slipped away.  What about Rose?  He loved her, didn't he?  He grasped at bits of thoughts, stray feelings, a warmth that was Rose's smile and nose scrunched in glee, and a smoldering burn that was Rey's lips parted in ecstasy--but those sum of parts defied revelation, no, he refused to summate them.  He was vaguely aware of his panicked breathing, but remained in paralyzed impasse.  When Rey spoke, her voice was tentative and gentle and far better than he deserved.

"Ben?  It's alright.  I understand."

"You understand?" he repeated dumbly.  How could she make sense of what he barely comprehended?

"Yes."  There was a pause, and a hitch in Rey's breathing.  "Well, you want something more casual.  I get it.  We had a lot of fun together.  But if you don't mind, I'd like to think it over.  Maybe you should too, when you aren't drunk."

No, that's not what he meant.  Tell her now.  Open your mouth.  "Oh," he said.

"Yeah."

"Oh."

There was a pause that stretched on and on.

Then.

"Goodnight, Ben."

His name spoken like a caress lingered in his mind long into sleep.

Also posted on AO3

[vfdbaudelairefile13]

  Chapter Forty-Two:

The One Where the Baudelaires are Put to Work

 

That day, Violet Snicket was relieved that her father had finally arrived home, although, she didn’t say much to him. She was afraid if she started a conversation with him she would start asking about VFD and his involvement. She would ask him a million questions and expect answers to each one. But she couldn’t, not yet at least, she needed to compile every scrap of evidence she could before she questioned him. Why? Because she feared that after she interrogates him, he will make learning VFD information a lot harder than it already is. She wasn’t going to let that happen.

Violet sat across from her father as they both silently ate. You could cut the tension between the two of them with a knife. 

“You okay, sweetie?” Lemony asked after a while of the awkward tension. 

“Hmm mmm,” Violet said not really saying anything to her father.

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah. Just glad you’re home.” Violet muttered rolling her eyes. “Finally,”

“Honey…” Lemony began.

“I know, you’re just doing your job. Putting food on the table.” 

Lemony frowned. He didn’t know what was wrong with his daughter and why she was so moody. Violet didn’t look up at him, afraid that she’d crack under pressure. Neither of them said anything for another couple moments of pure tense silence.

“So have you found her?” Violet asked.

“Huh?”

“My mother? Have you found her yet? Are you even close? Have you even bothered since the last time I asked?” She asked impatiently.

Lemony was taken aback by his daughter’s tone, he sighed and nodded his head in response.

“Really?” She asked not believing a word he was saying. “Can you explain what you’ve learned?”

“Violet…”

“Well…?”

He sighed again. “I rather not get your hopes up,”

“Of course not. Makes sense,” Violet replied in the same impatient tone as before. She absolutely hated how he had a lie ready at his disposal. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yep. Definitely.” 

He frowned. He knew this was a lie. He knew his daughter more than she would like to admit. That’s what happens when you’ve lived with just one other person for their entire life. He didn’t understand why she was in a mood though. Was it because she desperately wanted to learn about her birth mother or was it because he was absent more often these days. His stay at Lake Lachrymose had gone on longer than he had anticipated at first. But what could he have done? He had to help the Baudelaires. Maybe he should’ve called her and allowed her to know that he was fine. 

He opened his mouth to say something but as he did, the phone rang. Both Snickets looked at the phone. Lemony stood up before Violet had a chance to. “I got it,” he said as she rolled her eyes. He took the phone and went into the other room.

“Yes, Jacquelyn.” He answered knowing damn well who was on the other end of the phone call.

“Now, how’d you know it was me?” 

“You’re the only person who calls,” 

“Damn. That’s truly sad, Snicket. You should get out more.”

“Ha. Funny,” Lemony replied in a sarcastic tone as he rolled his eyes. “So...let me guess Olaf is after the kids again.”

“When isn’t he?” 

“Good point,” Lemony muttered. “What do we know about his plan this time?”

“Nothing. We just know he has found them,” 

“How the fuck is he getting this information before me?”

“Honestly, that’s something I’d like to know,” Jacquelyn replied annoyed. “I mean I work for the man who takes them to their guardians and he somehow knows before me…”

“You don’t think Poe works for him, do you?”

“No...no...the man is incompetent but definitely not evil.”

“Now are you sure?” Lemony asked.

“Yes. It would take a functioning brain to pull that off,” Jacquelyn pointed out laughing.

“Okay. Good point.” Lemony said convinced. “So where are they now?”

“Paltryville,”

“Of course…” 

“Why do you say it like that?” Jacquelyn asked concerned.

“...I’m not welcomed in Paltryville...for several reasons. One is that they think I helped start a certain fire,” 

“Ah. Should I send myself or Larry.” 

“No!” Lemony cried panicked. “No offense, but the last time that I allowed you to send yourself to the Baudelaires’ location, Dr. Montgomery died. And the last time Larry beat me to their location, he was kidnapped by Olaf and he could’ve been killed.”

“Are you going to keep using Dr. Montgomery’s death against me?” 

“Yes. Until you can explain to me why disguising yourself as a fucking statue was a good idea I am going to use that against you.”

“Suit yourself, Snicket,” Jacquelyn said. “You’ll need to get on the next train to Paltryville.”

Lemony looked to Violet who wasn’t paying attention. “Ummm…” he said. “I’m gonna need a day or two,” 

“What?” 

“I have an a...prior commitment. I have to...ummmm...research something. Shouldn’t take me long,”

“But the Baudelaires…”

“They’re resourceful kids,” Lemony said immediately. “They can survive a day or two without me.”

“If you’re sure, Snicket,” Jacquelyn said after sighing. “Just let me know if you want me to go for you...cause I can.”

“Again...no. Stop suggesting that,” Lemony said chuckling a bit. “Just keep me updated if you can. Surely there’s a VFD agent in Paltryville that can give us information.”

“Doubtful,” 

“Just give me a day or so,” Lemony said as Jacquelyn bid him goodbye.

Lemony walked back over to Violet. “You know what, I’m sorry. You’re right,” 

“What?” she asked confused.

“I haven’t made looking for your mother a priority in the last couple of weeks. That’s going to change.” He said as he watched her eyes light up. “I am going to find her, Violet. I promise.” He said.

As he watched a smile appear upon his daughter’s face, he could feel a ping of guilt in his heart. He knew that eventually, he would have to explain to Violet what had happened to her mother. When he told her that he was going to find her, what he meant was that he was going to figure out who stole Beatrice from Violet forever. He didn’t want to drop this piece of information on his daughter without closure. He didn’t want her to wonder who would kill her mother. He wanted to be able to have all the answers to every question she would have about her mother’s death. So he had decided to take the next day to focus on figuring out the exact cause of the Baudelaire fire. 

_____________________________________________________________________

Morning is an important time of day because how you begin your morning can often tell you what kind of day you’re going to have. If you wake up to a breakfast made by your father, your day will probably be decent. If you wake up in a mansion to a butler serving you blueberry pancakes and freshly squeezed orange juice, your day will probably be wonderful. Now if you wake up in a lumber mill to the sound of metal pots banging together, you know your day will be horrid.

You and I, of course, cannot be too surprised that the Baudelaire orphans’ first day at the Lucky Smells Lumbermill was a horrid one. The Baudelaire orphans did not expect a nice, hot breakfast or a butler, especially after their dismaying arrival. But never in their most uneasy dreams did they expect the cacophony that awoke them.

“Get up, lumber workers! This is your new foreman, and you’ve got a new shipment of logs to turn into flat wooden boards!” A rough voice yelled over the loudspeakers. 

“What’s that horrible noise?’ Klaus asked groggily. 

“Tympana,” Sunny muttered, which meant, “It sounds like someone banging metal pots together…” 

“Get up, you lazy, smell things!” the foreman’s voice yelled. “Time for work, everybody!”

The children sat up and rubbed their eyes. All around them, the employees of the Lucky Smells Lumbermill were stretching and covering their ears at the sound of the pots. Phil, who was already up and making his bunk neatly, gave the Baudelaires a tired smile. 

“I believe everyone has a good side. But I have to admit, our last foreman was a lot nicer,” Phil commented to the children.

“What happened to your last foreman?” Klaus asked wearily. 

“Must’ve quit in the middle of the night,” Phil said cheerfully. “It happens a lot around here,” 

Klaus and Sunny looked at one another uneasily. 

“Hurry up! It’s log day!” the foreman’s voice yelled.

“I hate log days,” a mill worker muttered.

As the children followed Phil and the other workers across the dirt-floored courtyard to the lumber mill, which was a dull gray building with many smokestacks sticking out of the top. The two children looked at one another nervously. Except for one summer day, back when their parents were alive, when the Baudelaire siblings had opened a small lemonade stand in front of their house, the orphans had never had jobs, and they were quite nervous. 

The Baudelaires walked closely next to Phil into the lumbermill and saw that it was all one huge room, filled with enormous machines. Klaus looked at a shiny steel machine with a pair of steel pinchers like the arms of a crab and hoped that he wouldn’t be asked to handle it. Sunny examined a machine that looked like a big cage, with an enormous ball of string trapped inside, and tried to think of what a machine like that could be used for. Both children stared a  rusty, creaky-looking machine that had a circular saw-blade that looked quite jagged and fearsome. Sunny wondered if the saw was sharper than her teeth, while Klaus anxiously tried to remember anything and everything he had read about lumber mills. 

All the while, the noise from all of the machines were starting to disturb Klaus. Klaus began to whimper a little as he put his hands over his ears and winced in pain. “It’s too loud in here,” he said to Sunny as Sunny nodded her head at her brother. 

“Now grab a debarker and start debarking!” the foreman yelled from his booth. The foreman wore a gas mask that completely covered his face, which seemed odd to the children. He also wore a stained uniform that completely covered his arms and legs, Klaus suspected it was to cover up a certain tattoo. Sunny noticed that his shoes had been taped shut instead of being tied, which seemed rather unusual for anyone to do. The foreman turned his head towards the children. “You too, lumber midgets!” 

“We’re not midgets...we’re children,” Klaus replied as he stood in line with Sunny to get a debarker.

“Children, midgets, do I care?” The foreman said in a muffled voice. 

“Oh, I love log days!” Phil exclaimed.

Klaus took a debarker from the dispenser and looked down at it. “I don’t think this is safe for even me to be handling,” he said cautiously to Sunny.

“Bite!” she exclaimed, which probably meant, “That’s okay. I don’t need one. I’ll just bite the logs.” 

As the children followed the other workers around one of the trees, Phil showed Klaus how to use his debarker. He began scraping it against the tree, filing the bark off like you would file your nail. Klaus nodded and tried to imitate Phil’s actions. 

Even though Phil had described the rigors of working at the mill, it had certainly sounded difficult. But seeing that he was an optimist, he still sugar-coated just how difficult the job would be, so the actual work turned out to be much, much worse. For one thing, the debarkers were adult-sized and it was difficult for Klaus to use it. He could scarcely lift it and even when he could lift up to the tree, he had to push with all his might to get it to file the bark from the log and even then only tiny pieces of bark would fall from the tree. He was in a mixture of jealousy and amazement as Sunny climbed atop the log and began to saw away at the bark with her teeth. She made it look so easy.  

To the Baudelaires’ misfortune, once a tree was finally cleared of bark, there would be another tree waiting for them. Which meant they would have to start this process over and over again. But if you asked the Baudelaires what was the worst thing about working at the lumber mill would be the deafening noise. Since Klaus had to use two hands to move his debarker against the wood, he had absolutely no way of blocking all the terrible noises from his eardrums. So the entire time he felt overstimulated and he continued to wince in discomfort. He longed for a break so he can go outside and maybe get a few minutes of peace and quiet. Finally, as the children finished their third log (noticing that all the other groups of workers were at least on their fourteenth log), the foreman began shouting over the loudspeaker. “Lunch break! Lumber slowpokes!” 

Klaus grabbed his baby sister and sat down where the rest of the workers were sitting. He started picking pieces of wood out of his sister’s hair noticing that she was completely covered in sawdust. He could only imagine how terrible he looked as he began to ruffle his hair in hope of getting all the sawdust out.“I hate log days,” Klaus muttered to Sunny as one of the mill workers replied, “Told ya!” 

“Otii!” Sunny replied, which meant, “We finally get a break.”

“Lunch break! Five minutes!” the foreman yelled as he threw two pink squares at the children. Klaus somehow caught it and looked down at the small pink square that was in his hands.

“It’s gum...this is gum!” he shouted not believing his eyes. “Gum isn’t lunch! Gum isn’t even a snack!” 

“Tanco!” Sunny yelled in agreement, which meant, “And babies shouldn’t even have gum, because they could choke on it!” Klaus was quick to translate.

“You’d better eat your gum,” Phil said, moving over to sit next to the two children. “It’s not very filling, but it’s the only thing they’ll let you eat until dinnertime.” 

“Can’t we use our wages to buy some sandwiches?” Klaus asked still staring at the two pink squares in his hands.

Phil began to chuckle a bit. “Kiddo, we’re not paid in wages. We’re paid in coupons.”

“I got one for 20% off a shampoo at Ed’s Haircut Palace,” one mill worker replied.

“I got a free refill of iced tea,” another replied.

“I got ‘Buy two banjos, get one free’. Of course, I can’t buy any banjos ‘cause I don’t have any money. Just coupons.” a third mentioned.

“That...that can’t be legal,” Klaus replied in utter disbelief.

“It’s not like we have a constitution,” Phil replied.

“If this place is so miserable, why don’t you leave?” Klaus asks. 

All at once, like zombies or brainwashed members of a cult, the mill workers stood up and in a monotone chant, they replied, “Lucky Smells is our life. Lucky Smells is our home.” They sat back down as if nothing they had just done was out of the ordinary. Klaus looked down at Sunny with a worried face. 

“We need to find those answers and run away,” he said as Sunny nodded.

“Book!” she replied, which probably meant, “Didn’t the mill have a library?”

Klaus nodded his head as he picked Sunny up and walked out of the noisy mill into the peacefully quiet courtyard. During the walk to the mill's library, he couldn’t help but ponder just how terrible Sir was. What kind of man forces two small children to work in a lumber mill? What sort of man would hire a dickhead like the foreman? What sort of man would pay his employees in coupons or feed them only gum? But his biggest question was the same as the one he had asked Mr. Poe before they were even dropped off here which was how is a lumber mill a suitable home for two children? With each step, the children raised small clouds of dirt that matched the clouds of dread that continued to hang over them ever since their parents had died. Their bodies ached from the morning’s work and they had an uneasy feeling in their empty stomachs. As they guessed from the way their day began, the two children were having a bad day and I hate to inform you that although the Baudelaires believed it couldn’t get any worse. They were entirely wrong. Because it can get so much worse...and it did.

Finally, the two children reached the building that contained Sir’s office and Charles’ library. Klaus noticed a mirror hanging on the wall and peered in it frowning. Both children looked tired and hungry. Both children’s hair and uniforms were covered in small pieces of bark and sawdust. Klaus’ glasses were hanging askew from leaning over logs all morning and Sunny had pieces of wood stuck in her four teeth. Both children frowned and noticed a painting of a seashore that hung behind them, which made them feel about ten thousand times worse because the seashore will always remind them of that terrible, terrible day when the two siblings went to the beach and soon received the news from Mr. Poe that their parents had died and they were all alone in this world. The children stared at their own reflections and the depressing painting behind them, and it was almost unbearable for either of them to think about everything that had happened to them since that day. 

“You know, if someone had told me,” Klaus cried, “ that day at the beach, that before long I’d find myself pursued by a greedy, evil man named Count Olaf, I would have said they were insane.”

“Wora,” Sunny replied softly, which meant, “If someone had told me, that day at the beach, that before long I’d find myself using my four teeth to scrape the bark off trees because I was now working in a lumbermill, I would have said they were psychoneurotically disturbed.”

The dismayed orphans looked at their reflections and for several moments, the Baudelaires stood and pondered the mysterious way their lives were going. It wasn’t until Sunny pointed to a pair of closed doors muttering the word, “book,” that snapped Klaus back into reality. 

“You’re right, Sunny. According to the map, the mill library should be just behind...behind this door,” Klaus whispered as he touched the doors to open up. Just when he had placed a hand on the library door, a door behind the two children swung open.

“Trying to get out of log day, are you?” Sir’s booming voice asked. Klaus jumped in surprise and turned to see his guardians, one whose face was still entirely covered by a cloud of smoke and the other who was wearing an apron. 

“We wanted to visit the library on our lunch break, Sir.” 

“Oh! What a lovely idea!” Charles said smiling at the children, turning to Sir. “I told you a library would be good for morale,”

“Nonsense!” Sir yelled which cause both Klaus and Charles to flinch. “Lunch breaks are for chewing gum, not sneaking off to libraries! That’s why they only need five fucking minutes!”

“But, Sir…” Charles began.

“You’re not going to cause trouble for my mill, are you?”

“Trouble? I’m your partner.” Charles said in a saddened tone.

Sir turned to Charles. “I was speaking to the Baudelaires!” he said in a loud and annoyed tone.

“Right,” Charles muttered.

“Look here, boy, I took a chance treating you like grown-ups. Don’t make me regret it!” Sir yelled. 

“Puer!” Sunny yelled, which meant, “We never asked to be treated like grown-ups. If I recall correctly, we explained to you that we were children! ” Klaus was quick to translate for his sister.

Sir growled under his breath. “ Get back to work!” 

With that Sir turned and walked back into his office as Klaus and Sunny looked at Charles with desperate, pleading eyes. Charles gave the children a small frown as he slowly began to back up into the office. 

“You’ll have to excuse Sir. He recently cut down on his smoking,” Charles explained, even though, he knew deep down that was not a good enough excuse for why Sir was treating the Baudelaires so terribly.

“Do you know he feeds the workers gum and pays them in coupons!?” Klaus asks angrily. 

“Yes...well, I’ve tried to discuss that. ” 

“Par!” Sunny yelled, which meant, “If you guys are partners , you should be able to stand up to him!” Klaus translated for his sister.

“It’s complicated. I know Sir can be...prickly, but you have to understand, he had a very terrible childhood.” Charles explained as he grabbed ahold of the office doors and began to slowly close them.

Klaus glared at Charles and took a step closer to him as he thought about that horrible day at the beach again. “I understand,” Klaus said through gritted teeth. “ I’m having a very terrible childhood right now, ” he said his voice breaking.

Charles continued closing the office doors as he whispered, “okay.” Klaus just gave a look of utter disbelief at Charles’ lack of caring for the children.

Klaus and Sunny just stood there for a few moments before shaking their heads and walking back to the lumbermill. In the hours that followed as the two children worked and worked. Klaus had a pit in his stomach as he thought once again about the eye-shaped building. He was certain that Count Olaf was lurking nearby, like some predator waiting to pounce on the children while they weren’t looking. He tried his best to get a good look at every mill worker. It would have been simple for Olaf to get himself hired as an employee, and snatch the children away when Foreman Flacutono wasn’t looking. But although all the workers looked tired, sad, and hungry, none of them looked evil and greedy. As the orphans performed backbreaking labor, Klaus wondered if Count Olaf would use one of these scary-looking machines to somehow get his dirty hands on their parents’ money. He then thought of Foreman Flacutono and thought about just how odd his uniform was. No one else here was wearing a gas mask and although the mills’ green uniforms covered every inch of the workers’ arms and legs, they still weren’t as long and awkward as the foreman’s uniform. Klaus then remembered how a nice man, Kronk, had claimed to be from the Herpetological Society back when the children had lived with their Uncle Monty. Even though the man had been nice and helpful to the children, Klaus had always found it odd that he wore a beekeeper’s hat to conceal his face. He pondered whether or not Count Olaf could be doing that now but with a gas mask. 

“Penny?” Sunny asked as she sat up on the log staring at her brother, this meant, “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Huh?” Klaus asked confused.

“Cogitare,” Sunny replied, which meant, “You’re thinking something.” 

Klaus sighed and put down his debarker. “It’s the new foreman. Phil said he just showed up last night. What if he’s Count Olaf and being a foreman’s his new disguise?”

“Pessima,” Sunny replied annoyed, which meant, “He is cruel like Count Olaf, but Olaf runs a horrible theater troupe, not a lumbermill.”

“But isn’t it suspicious how we never see his face?” 

“Sir,” Sunny remarked.

“I already thought of that, Sir’s way too short to be Olaf in disguise.”

Sunny rolled her eyes at her brother unimpressed.

“...and we only hear his voice over the loudspeaker,” Klaus reasoned.

“Impellit,” Sunny remarked, which meant, “Probably because the mill is too noisy. It’s probably the only way anyone could ever hear him.”

“But…” Klaus cried.

“ Ludum! ” Sunny yelled impatiently, which meant, “ I know what you’re trying to do!” 

“Keep us safe!” Klaus cried.

“Nos!” Sunny yelled impatiently rolling her eyes, which meant, “Find a reason to leave. And we can just as soon as we clear our parents’ names.”

“I don’t care about that! I have to keep you safe!” Klaus argued.

“Curam me!” she replied harshly, which meant, “Goddammit, Klaus! I don’t need you to keep me safe! I can handle my own pretty sure I’ve done enough to prove that! Worry about yourself!”

Klaus frowned and looked to the ground. “I...I...I need a new debarker,” he said sadly as he tossed his to the ground. Sunny shrugged her shoulders and went back to work. Klaus walked slowly away from his baby sister, wiping the tears from his eyes. Klaus turned back to make sure Sunny was okay, she seemed annoyed but content as she went back to biting the bark off the logs. Klaus walked towards the debarker machine but noticed that Foreman Flacutono was asleep in his booth with his left leg hanging out. Klaus took this opportunity and quickly walked up near the booth, slowly kneeling down to the ground. 

Ever so cautiously, Klaus gently grabbed the man’s pant leg and began to slowly pull it up. Praying that he didn’t wake the foreman. He just needed to see the man’s ankle. As Klaus pulled the pant leg up, the foreman began to move slightly in his sleep. Klaus held his breath, trying his best to not wake the man up. Before he could see the man’s left ankle, the foreman jerked awake as Klaus jumped up not making eye contact with him. 

“What are you doing, midget?” the foreman asked him angrily.

“I...I...I need a new debarker,” Klaus said in a low voice, nervously. still not making eye contact with the man, in fear that it was actual Olaf in disguise.

“Spoiled brat wants a new debarker? Old rust one isn’t good enough for him, eh?” The foreman asked in a patronizing tone. “They’re over there, rich boy.” as he moved his arm to gesture at where they were located. That was what caught Klaus’ attention, the foreman didn’t point with his finger, he used his arm to more or less point. Klaus watched confused as the foreman lowered his oddly stiff arm. 

“Wait…” Klaus said under his breath trying to figure out where he had seen this type of stiff arm before.

Before he could figure it out. He felt the foreman’s left foot give him a harsh, painful kick in the ass as he fell to the ground. His glasses slid off his face a few inches in front of him. He winced in pain as his mind scrambled to figure out what had happened.

The foreman walked in front of him and purposefully stepped on his glasses. “Whoopsie!” the foreman said in a mocking tone as he made his way back to the booth.

“Klaus!” Sunny yelled realizing her brother was on the floor. Phil looked up and noticed that Klaus was lying on the floor as well. He quickly grabbed Sunny and walked towards the boy. By the time Phil and Sunny reached him a small crowd of workers circled Klaus. This reminded him of when Olaf had both slapped him in the face and when Olaf had tortured him and his troupe just sat around and watched the show before them. He wiped a tear from his eyes as he looked up and saw a blurry blob that was small enough to be his sister. 

“Specks!” Sunny yelled as she reached her brother, picking up his glasses for him, which meant, “Your glasses...they’re…”

“Twisted,” 

“Cracked,” 

“Hopelessly broken,” 

“They look A-okay to me,” Phil commented giving Klaus two thumbs up.

Klaus put his broken glasses on his face and saw that his coworkers were correct. His glasses resembled a piece of modern sculpture that a friend of mine made a long time ago called Twisted, Cracked, and Hopelessly Broken.

“The foreman kicked me!” Klaus yelled angrily. “And then he stepped on my glasses!” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! How could I kick him when I’m up in this booth?” Foreman Flacutono replied. “It was probably karma,”

“See?” Sunny asked desperately.

“A little,” Klaus replied.

“He’ll live,” Foreman Flacutono replied.

“Fucker!” Sunny yelled at the foreman as Phil helped Klaus up. 

“Get back to work, midget,” 

“He can’t work if he can’t see!” Phil explained.

“Too bad for him,” 

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Phil said calmly, “He needs an optometrist. A child could see that,”

“Not me,” Klaus said, “I can scarcely see anything.”

“Lucky for you, we’ve got a great optometrist right here in what’s left of our town,” 

The Baudelaires’ eyes got wide with panic. “You mean the eye-shaped building?” Klaus asked nervously.

“Oh yeah! Dr. Orwell treats all the workers. You probably saw the coupon in your welcome packet. I better get you there.” Phil said 

“No!” Sunny protested. “No take!” 

But Foreman Flacutono began banging his pots together as the other mill workers turned on the machines to finish the day’s work.

“That building has the mark of a bad, bad man!” Klaus pleaded as Phil dragged him away from Sunny.

“Yoryar!” Sunny begged crawling as fast as she could to stop Phil from taking her brother away from her, this meant, “Please don’t take him to that building!” But Klaus wasn’t able to translate because neither he or Phil could hear Sunny over the machines. Klaus gave Sunny a hopeful smile. 

“I’ll be fine!” he shouted to her. “Maybe I can find some answers!” 

“Same!” She yelled back.

The Baudelaire sister watched in horror as Phil led Klaus out of the mill. The whirring sounds continued all around Sunny, and Foreman Flacutono was now yelling at her to get back to work as he smacked his pots together. But that wasn’t the loudest sound that the younger Baudelaire orphan hared. Louder than the machine, louder than the pots, louder than the foreman’s yelling, was the sound of her own furiously beating heart as Phil took her big brother away.

[paarraanoid]

“You’re Too Young” -- Michael Del Zotto Imagine (Part 5)

A/N: Cash me ousside, how bow dah.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 6)

“God dammit, Michael. Just say something.” I angrily huffed. “I’m growing tired of your antics. Grow up and have a conversation like an adult, for once.” Michael hit the brakes of the car, almost causing a pile-up behind us.

“Are you serious, Zoe?”

“Yes, absolutely. And maybe if you didn’t always insist on having me travel everywhere with you, we would be able to have a real conversation somewhere other than your car! Now drive because you’re going to cause an accident.” I grabbed my oh-shit handle as Michael pulled angrily into a nearby parking lot.

We were at a small restaurant that looked to be very fancy and expensive. A place you most definitely wouldn’t catch me at. We pulled into a parking spot, and a few other cars pulled in behind us. They were team members arriving to join the so-called fun. Two heads popped up next to my window and knocked excitedly. I smiled at Gina and Shayne as I rolled the window down.

“Hey, you two! You comin’ in?” Gina said happily, with Shayne tightly by her side.

I laughed lightly, trying to lighten the mood and to also give myself a few seconds to think of an excuse. “Yeah, we’ll be right in. I seem to have lost my phone so we’re trying to retrace my steps and decide whether I left it at the arena or it slid into the abyss in his car.” My response caused Shayne to laugh, telling me that that is absolutely something I would do. “I’m not really in the mood to lose a phone today. We’ll be there in a few.”

Gina gave me a hard stare, knowing exactly what was going to happen. “Sure. See you guys soon.” The two of them waved to us as I rolled the window back up and unbuckled my seatbelt.

“You’re good when you’re put on the spot.”

“Are you finally ready to be an adult?”

“Would you stop treating me like I’m a child?”

“Now you know how you’ve been treating me for the past what, two and a half years?”

He slammed the steering wheel out of frustration. “What do you expect me to say!”

“Tell me how you feel, Michael, about me. Tell me what your thoughts are on the idea of us. You need to use your words, you need to communicate with me.” He licked his lips in frustration, thinking intently. When he didn’t say anything, I decided to help him out. “Okay, I guess I’ll start and give you an example. If the other night in your apartment wasn’t obvious enough, then here it is. I like you, Michael, a lot. I’ve felt something for you almost since the day my family moved to Canada. That’s a long time. But you know what, I always thought that what I felt was never reciprocated, because you always acted like a brother. You were always so adamant on being like a brother. I thought that nothing could ever be possible between us. But, I was wrong. And now here we are, I’m spilling my guts, trying to get you to talk, because I know that you feel something too. But you need to tell me how you feel, otherwise I’m going home.”

“You’re not going.” He scoffed, trying to call my bluff. I pulled up my contacts and hit Macy’s name as I opened the door and placed one foot on the ground. Michael quickly pulled me back into the car, ripping the phone from my hands and ending the call.

“I wasn’t kidding, Michael.”

He looked at me and breathed in and out, processing his thoughts…then it suddenly all came out like word vomit. “Alright, fine. I’ve had a thing for you ever since I taught you how to make whiskey sours. That was the night I fell head-over-heels for you. You got me hook, line, and sinker that night.” He caught his breath. “Zoe, I like you a lot. Like, a lot, a lot. It scares me how much influence you have on me.”

An annoyed breath escaped from my chest. “Dear God, fucking finally!” I let out boisterously. “Now we can go eat! I’m starving.” I slid out of the car with grace and bounced onto the sidewalk. Michael’s door opened and I immediately began spitting off foods to eat tonight. “Ooh, I’m really in the mood for some shrimp, and some pasta. But I could also go for some crab cakes, so I hope they have—”  Michael chimed into my thoughts. He was standing with his door open and his arms out wide. “…Did you say something.” Did he say something?

“Zoey. That’s it? All is fine and dandy?”

I nodded my head back and forth in contemplation. “Uh, yeah.”

Michael’s hands gripped his face and I could see his smile from beneath them. “I don’t understand you.”

“Literally, all I wanted from you was to tell me that you liked me, and that I’m not like a damn sister to you. Was it really that hard?”

“Alright, don’t push your limits.”

I threw my arms out and smiled. “So, do you wanna kiss now or later?”

“What! Zoey—”

“Okay, that’s fine. I’m hungry anyway.” I turned on my heel and walked in the direction of the entrance.

“Wait, Zoey! That’s not fair! Zoey!” I heard his car door close and then the beep of the horn. His shoes scuffled along the sidewalk as he jogged toward me.

“Ya’ snooze you lose, mister!” I twisted around to see where Michael was when I was blindsided. Before I knew it, his hands were wrapped around my waist pulling me close to his body, and his lips were on mine. My heart dropped to what felt like the pit of my stomach and then exploded into a million butterflies. His lips were eager, hungry, soft…

My hands found their place on the sides of his neck, pulling him closer to me, if that was even possible. I could feel Michael’s heart beating rapidly against my chest, but it could have been mine. Either way, I losing my senses the longer our lips kept contact. I smiled into him when I heard loud banging and muffled hoots and hollers. We broke apart to see the team inside the restaurant pounding on the windows. “Oh my god,” I muffled into my hands that covered my beet-red face. Michael laughed at the situation, removing my hands and kissing my cheek.

“Let’s go get something to eat and let someone else provide the entertainment for the night.” Michael pushed me forward and I caught Macy, Ally, and especially Alex, out of the corner of my eye freaking out. Macy couldn’t stop smiling, Ally was dancing and Alex looked extremely confused.

Walking inside found Michael and I greeted to many “cheers” and “congratulations” and rounds of applause. “Alright, alright, settle down,” Michael told his teammates as we walked to the booth that was just big enough to hold a majority of the team. The booth forced close relations to everyone, which I was fine with. Macy kicked Ally and Alex out of the booth so that Michael and I could slide in. Michael scooted in effortlessly first, and then, with his hand on my back, guided me into the spot next to him. Despite just having a game, he smelled of something…rich: dark woods, warm spices, and amber. Macy followed suit and Mark Streit followed her. The second I got settled Macy redirected her attention to Streit, who was just as interested in the conversation as she was. They laughed at something funny and Streit slipped an arm around the back of Macy while she dropped her hand on his thigh. Smooth.  Macy and Streit��now that was a sight. A slight giggle left my mouth as my thoughts wandered.

“What’s so funny?” Michael caught my attention.

“Nothing.” I smiled at him. He smiled back. “You know, I’m glad that you invited me to come out tonight.”

“I’m glad that you said yes,” he stated without hesitation. He pulled me in close and placed a kiss on my forehead. “I glad that you’re here,” he whispered.

Gina sat across the table from me and quickly caught my attention, giving me the “I told you so,” look and raising her eyebrow. She leaned forward and quickly began chatting my ear off, catching me up on all that had happened while I was occupied with school. Gina helped keep the atmosphere relaxed, but it also helped that Michael and I were finally on good terms. My terms. Dinner went smooth and before I knew it, groups started to head out. There were about twelve of us remaining and someone brought up the idea of going to a club. The guys didn’t have practice tomorrow and Gina sure as hell wanted more time to catch up with me. I turned to my friends to get their input. Alex and Ally opted to head home early, both of them having their parents in town and a large Sunday brunch on the menu. Macy said she was totally up for staying out as long as I felt decent, to which I agreed. The evening was going great so why not keep it going?

Michael and I hit the bar as soon as we got to the club, practically ditching the rest of our crew. I winked at Macy and then at Gina, both of them laughing at my antics. Michael ordered us both a round of tequila shots. Three rounds later I could think of so many ways to improve licking salt and sucking limes. But that was for another night.

We chatted over whiskey sours before hitting the dance floor. Michael wasn’t one to normally dance, but then again neither was I. The alcohol was coursing through our systems and found us acting a little risky on the dance floor. His free hand found my hip and pulled my back against his chest. I pushed my hips into his groin, which cause him to send a low groan into my ear. I peeked a glance at him while biting my lip, acting as innocent as I could.

His lips found the side of my neck and sucked on my sweet spot right below my ear. A soft moan escaped my lips, and he took that as an invitation to slid his hand from my hip down to the front of thigh, where it dipped to the inside of my leg. I gasped and grabbed his hand off of my thigh, spinning to come face to face with him. Although I was slightly past being buzzed, my cheeks heated up at the thought of anyone watching us. He wasn’t being very discreet.

“You’re going to get us both in trouble,” I whispered into his ear as I trailed my fingers down the back of his neck.

“I certainly wouldn’t mind getting into some trouble with you tonight.” I matched his gaze and brought him in for a kiss. I pressed deep into his lips and he reciprocated. My heart thumped and my stomach dropped, exactly like earlier. I pulled away, but not before biting his lip and giving it a tug. A painful “fuck” escaped his lips. I pulled him from the dance floor to a table, where I kindly asked him to get me another drink. I kept my gaze focused on his body as I watched him walk to the bar, gaining the attention of the bartender. My eyes examined every inch of his body, placing it into deep into my memory.

“Zoey Palmer!” Hearing my name shook me from my daze. I followed the sound until I saw a familiar face walking toward me. It was…Joe! From my dance class. I gave him a hug as we chatted for a few seconds. As quickly as he showed up, he was gone, and then a loud thud redirected my attention. Michael slammed my glass down on the table. His face of lust now masked by anger.

“Don’t start.” I scolded him.

“Who was that.”

“It doesn’t matter, Michael.”

“Yes, it does. Who was it.”

“Are you really going to do this. Right here? Right now?”

“Absolutely.”

“Michael, you’re drunk, and that’s why you’re getting upset. Please tell me you’re not always going to be this way when you’re drunk.”

“He was hitting on you, and you were enjoying it.”

“Oh my god, no, Michael. He was not hitting on me! Even if he was, know that I was not enjoying it. Come on, Michael, it’s been such a good day, please don’t ruin it now.” I laid a hand on his arm, hoping to make eye contact with him, but he was too focused on eyeing down Joe from across the room. He was muttering some choice words to himself under his breath and being childish all over again.

“Alright, well I’m going to go to the bathroom and hopefully by the time I get back you’ve come to your senses and stopped pouting like a child.” With a roll of my eyes I slipped off my seat and grabbed Macy away from Mark as we walked toward the restrooms.

“I see there’s an issue between Michael and you already? Not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

“Well, it’s definitely not great,” I muttered as I closed the door to a stall. “God, I hope he’s not always like this when he gets drunk, because this shit is not gonna fly with me.”

“What happened?” Macy said through the openings of the stall.

“He got upset because he thought a guy was hitting on me.”

“Was he?”

I slammed the stall door open and came face with Macy. “God no! It was Joe from our fine arts class. He wanted to say hi and then proceeded to ask me a question about our syllabus.”

“That does sound like Joe.”  I shook my hands dry of water before grabbing a few paper towels and walking out the door.

“Of course it does. But Michael threw a fit, again, and wouldn’t let me expl—” My jaw dropped when I saw the sight in front of me. Macy gasped when she caught on. Michael was dancing with not one, but two girls on the dance floor. My words got caught in my throat. Macy tried to pry me away from the scene, but I couldn’t move. Mark came over to Macy and I, confused as to why we looked like we had seen a ghost.

“You two alright?” Macy nodded her head and he, too, dropped his jaw at the sight in front of him. “But, I thought…”

“Me too,” I mumbled. My legs were getting weaker and my lips began to quiver. It was only when I saw Michael head toward the door with both girls that I lost my composure, Mark catching me at the last second. He scooped me up and had Macy grab the keys out of his pocket, implying he was going to drive us home. The alcohol got the best of me as tears started to slide down my cheeks. I could feel Mark moving with purpose to get out the door, with Macy hot on his heels. I lifted my head at the perfect, or should I say worst, time. Through blurry eyes I could see Michael stumbling into a cab filled with high-pitched laughters. My tears grew to sobs and then my sobs grew to chokes. This was painful.

I had finally gotten what I wanted, but it was nothing like I’d ever expected.

[survivorjordanpines]

Episode 8: I think I'll call her Vengeance. - Adam

So tonight went well. We didn't have to go to tribal council and Nahte voted out the person I, literally, did not want to meet up with if we swapped again or merged. I don't know Cole, so maybe he's a decent guy, but I've seen and heard some things that were uglie that I just didn't want to deal with. But anyways. This fucking challenge. Honestly, it's like demon music. It's like Satan himself threw up into my ears. UGH.

I know what you're thinking. Adam crushed another redemption challenge? That means it's time for whiny McBitchersons 3 right? Wrong, this episode has been cut short to make room for this heartfelt speech about my love for Andreas: Andreas, Love is like a flower, It only blooms when you're both on redemption and you keep winning together and staying alive and being the only person I talk to right now. And I know I never tell you truthfully how well I'm doing in the challenge but that's only because it's a stupid thing to ask and I'm of course going to lie because although I want you to stay alive too I still want you to only be second best because if for some reason one of the other bitches ever did better than us I still want to stay alive. I had a dream, that one day we would both emerge from the island together, and return to the game we were so wrongfully terminated from. But sometimes you have to wake up from the dream, and realize it's only me or you. And I'm glad it's either one of us, because none of these other weak ass hoes who came to redemption ever deserved it. Like check out these lame fucking scores they all gave. It's like they hardly even tried. The ones that actually tried that is! How many people just straight up quit when they get to redemption? I seen two so far and that shit is funny, it's like you ain't even want it at all! Must be scared or just feelin shitty about being voted out. But bitch we all feel shitty after being voted out! You gotta harness that fury and channel it into your redemption challenges. I'm getting a little off track here, but the point was Andreas is my dude, and while I won't really swear to avenge you because I'm pretty sure the people who voted you out are the friends that I was voted out for having, so it's like if I ever get back I probably won't have much of a choice of who to work with, BUT if given the opportunity I will do right by you, because your chill and friendly and it seems like they did you wrong. So, if I win cool, if you win whatever, that sucks for me but better than someone like Cole winning redemption after just being voted out, cuz this challenge really is anyone's game. So good luck dude. I'm rootin for us

I hate this challenge. There is no way I'm going to be able to discern anything. I know that whoever wins that most useful will probably go the isle. So like I can't wait to get voted out.

This challenge sucks! It is so hard to hear all the different songs. Right now my tribe is very quiet. I hope we have a swap soon so I can have a more active tribe, I haven't talked to anyone one on one in DAYS. Except Drew, he's the only one who seems to make any kind of effort. I'm pretty sure that Regan and Charlotte are aligned but are not saying anything. Why else would they keep trying to be the ones to go to Jordan Island? It is suspicious all right! Lets hope we win immunity so I can do no work for another day :-)

At this point I'm not sure if I'll win. I have a feeling my time is running out. I'm gonna have to do some wicked talking to Adam and see if I can convince him to fall on the sword for me lmao. Doubt it'll happen but you never know. If I can't, then Im gonna give him my idol in the hopes that he can actually do something with it. I'm kind of scared. Redemption Island has always been so good to me... plz dont fuck me over

I feel like I confess too much and I'm going to cringe when I read them back once the season is over. We're about 21 minutes away from the challenge deadline and I just don't know what's going to happen. I think we relied way too heavily on Shazam, but the other tribes are probably going to do the same thing. It's basically going to come down to luck on this one, I think... and who has the more wrong answers to deduct points. Also if Situations isn't that emo song at the beginning, I'm quitting the game right here, right now. No joke. 

GOD CAN YOU BELIEVE I FORGOT KAREN WAS EVEN ON THIS TRIBE SINCE SHE CONTRIBUTED ABSOLUTELY NOTHING?? WHAT A FUCKING MOOD.

Okay so update. Adam told me that he has 12 songs and I have 17 and we are waiting for results and IM GOING TO PUKE IM SO NERVOUS FUCK

(this is meant for last round oops, put it in there if u can) im so fucking pissed off bc of this damn tribe, i am so done w them like really? THREE people threw, apparently bc i wasnt able to submit like thats a shitty excuse just say u want me out or that u want ur ass to be immune and get idols i cant wait for the one round that despite them throwing, me david and ryan get good enough scores to win and one of us ends up immune i hope cole’s ass gets kicked on redemption and emma can choke too AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA When! Will! This! Neverending! Marathon! Of! Tribal! Councils! End!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LczLqQWCihg&feature=youtu.be https://youtu.be/qmpGefnZ0RQ TO TOP THIS ALL OFF I WANT TO KEEP EMMA AND LILY DOESNT AND ITS DOWN TO THE FOUR OF US AND IDK WHAT IM GOING TO DO EMMA WHY ARE U SO FUCKING USELESS WWHYHGUIJYHFILUWYSHDFILCKEWHSFLCAWEVC9OIWAREUHRWLSD,U]

I think I'll call her Vengeance. Winning this redemption was bitter sweet. Cuz Andreas was the sweet but I'm still bitter. A lot of good came out of this though, I'll make sure of it. Cuz God has a plan and I intend to implement it. You know I was just being friendly at the beginning for fun. You know we're stuck on this island for the same reason, and it's nice to have someone to discuss the game with. But we just kept winning together! Did you know he's the king of redemption? I had no idea. Apparently the dude won like a ton on 3 different seasons. But what's a king to a God ;) It's sad when you really do the math. Because before it was over he told me he got 17, and I only had 12 so I told him you deserve it. I still had hope, because I had faith in my answers so maybe he had made some mistakes, and if he got 3 wrong I won. Turns out he got 4, so if he had just not even guessed those, he would've still had 13 and won. But oh well. We were talking before about it, because he said he wanted to give it to me if he's leaving cuz otherwise it's null. Chrissa gave it to him, cuz she knew she wouldn't win but girl didn't even try. 2000 points? Pathetic. I mean we totally blew it out of the water but still. Anyway we asked to do results earlier at like 9:30 and Jordan took a bit to process the scores and he told us it was 12-9. And well, I think you know whose was whose. It was kinda funny, cuz he yelled MY IDOL!!! and I was like Quick throw it to me!!! It would have been cute if he did an *action* but I guess he's not about that. But anyway I lied before cuz as we said goodbye I asked him if there was anyone he wanted me to murder for him. It felt like the right thing to do. He told me again that Ari really did him dirty. I was hoping he'd say her cuz if he had said like Ryan or Jess her allies I would've had to straight up lie, but Ari I can work with. Idk if they'll not vote me out or not but I don't really have allies going back in anyway. I'm just gonna wing it. So now I've done whatever the blunt equivalent of pouring one out for him is, and I had Jordan find me a picture of my idol to gaze upon, and it's this cute little crab necklace. And I'm just thinking, I think I'll call her Vengeance. 

Alright, so. Tribal's happening soon, and while I am hoping it all works out, a part of me is kinda worried. I know David Robb isn't gonna be going, that's for sure... But I WAS a target, and have been for a little while. Sure, Cole is gone, but Emma might still turn the others against me. I think it's the most logical move, though, because as I said to David earlier... [11:12:07 AM] Lily Owen: So, tbh, here’s my hot take on this [11:12:12 AM] Lily Owen: Emma didn’t contribute [11:12:18 AM] Lily Owen: She threw last round [11:12:22 AM] Lily Owen: Do I need to say it