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invincible-selfxmade-punk · 3 years ago

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My So Called Rise Against Life

All lyrics written and owned by Rise Against

No band, not even AFI, sings the soundtrack of the last 20 years of my life like Rise Against has. I was dragged to my first Rise Against show by Emily. Emily, the suicide girl, quite possibly the hottest girl in Corpus Christi, barely 5'1 and 98 pounds soaking wet, covered in tattoos and with Angelina Jolie's lips. To this day I cannot imagine why a girl who looked like that wanted to hang with me. I had never been to a gig at that little club called The Underground where the disenfranchised youth of Corpus Christi congregated. This was the very cusp of my punk rock midlife crisis and I went in scared to death because I'd heard concerts of this nature were violent.

At this point I was already considering the decision to become straightedge. I was curious but knew little about it. The sum of my knowledge was this: two of the guys in AFI were, and the guy at the mall was. The memory of this guy never leaves me. Like a stray dog with a tennis ball, catching a welcoming scent on the air, then chasing after a passing stranger who never looked down, I chased after him and each year I spent in that fruitless pursuit felt like seven. His friendship I would never win, but he would remain on the outskirts of my life, like the brass ring I reached for again and again only to fall on my face. I would see him that night too, but I didn't know this when Em invited me out. It was billed as a hardcore show. I had no idea what hardcore was back then, I just assumed it meant a rough crowd of millitant straightedge vegans that would have a sixth sense that I wasn't one of them and chase me out the doors. Rise Against was headlining and an equally unknown band called Avenged Sevenfold was opening. I'd never heard of either. Emily wanted me to go and I wanted to get out of the house for the night so it wasn't that hard for her to twist my arm in the matter. I met her at her apartment which was filth ridden, with drug paraphernalia everywhere, a wall size Misfits poster that took up the entire SIDE of her apartment, and electric guitars propped next to skateboards. As she slipped out of her clothes and into something slinky much to my viewing pleasure, she pointed me to her freezer with a purloined bottle of tropical Schnapps from the liquor store she was working for. Toasting in miniature tea cups I downed the bright blue liquid. I remember it so well, the frost covered bottle, cold in my hand, the electric blueness pouring into what looked like a child's tea party set up. This wasn't the last drink I would take, that would come two months later, yet I remember every detail of the experience. Suited up in skimpiness, we were off to the races. We hauled ass in Emily's SUV and she sat behind the wheel, dwarfed by it's hugeness and her smallness, joint in hand, careening down the expressway and swerving around orange construction barrels. As we exited into the worst part of town I had ever seen I must have looked uneasy. She turned to me and proudly exclaimed "Don't worry, I know this place! I used to score crack here!" We walked in and the first person I saw was the straightedge boy, who was taking money at the door. It was a good sign of things to come. It would also mean I would completely ignore Avenged Sevenfold's set in s stupid quest to get his attention long enough to make conversation. But Em was a champ, she stayed with me through the whole thing. In fact, I don't remember having the guts to say a word. She talked to him, I watched him talking to her and twenty feet away M. Shadows was screaming his sexy, tattooed, egotistical lungs out but I was utterly oblivious. From there we went to the merch booth where Em bought me an Avenged Sevenfold poster that I kept for years on my wall before finally giving it away right on the cusp of actually starting to listen to them. She also bought me a Rise Against patch that is still on my Dickies bag today though it is nothing more than a mess of black thread. We wandered over to the PETA booth, watched some gruesome videos, signed up for mail and picked up a cookbook I would later use to make one of the mall kids a vegan birthday cake. Then Emily spied someone she knew and I followed her over, still looking suspiciously through the crowd sure someone was just going to come up and punch me for no apparent reason. Still following, I watched as she struck up a conversation with this cute guy in glasses. I politely listened in as they talked about how they haven't seen each other since Warped Tour. For the life of me I can't remember what they talked about. I was distracted by a guy that looked like Davey Havok. Their conversation muffled to a drone until the guy looked at his watch and said "Oh crap!! I need to be on

stage! I'll talk to after the show!" and it was at that moment I realized Emily had been talking to Joe Principe of Rise Against. This was our cue as well though there was already too much of a crowd to get near the front. There were maybe one hundred people there and Tim held every one in the palm of his hand. I was amazed. I had never heard them before in my life so I can't tell you the set list but I knew from that time on I wanted to hear more. At the end Emily and I waited at the stage to talk to Tim. I had no idea what to say so I just shook his hand and now I wish I had held on a little longer. Emily got a shirt signed and talked to him for a while. Again I was too preoccupied with the AFI look-alikes in the crowd that I wasn't paying much attention. To this day I wonder if the dude I thought looked like Davey was actually Zacky Vengeance. I'll never know for sure. Soon enough Joe was with us again and he and Emily were engaged in conversation when he turned to me and said "Did that hurt?" I had NO idea what he was talking about, I was too overwhelmed by his very presence. I actually thought he was pointing past me to the PETA booth and I stupidly sputtered "What KFC is doing to chickens?" I swear to god when I'm miserable and in need of cheering up sometimes all it takes to make me smile is thinking "Hey, Joe laughed at my joke." The night drew to an end, Emily went out with the band, and being married, I went home. Next to singing a line with Dave Peters of Throwdown, that first night with Rise Against was the best night of the last ten years of my life. The next time I would see Rise Against they would be back in Corpus, opening for Bad Religion. This happened during what I call "The Emo Dave Era". I met Dave because of Rise Against. He was a little emo boy wearing a Rise Against shirt, skipping school at the mall. I stopped him and asked him about it and well that was it, he just kept coming around. I would end up knowing him for five years and eventually hiring him to work for me. By the second time they came to town Siren Song of The Counterculture was out and I remember bragging to Dave that if it was any other band I would have just downloaded it, but for them I would actually spend my hard earned money. I remember DRINKING in the songs, trying so hard to memorize all of the tracks before the gig hit. I remember the second Rise Against gig for many reasons. It was the first gig I went to alone at a time I was in the grip of panic attacks whenever I had to be in wide open spaces by myself. Two of my "mall daughters" met me at the gates and stayed with me the whole night. I remember that. I remember Dave hitting the merch table before me and buying me Rise Against stickers that I regarded like they were jewels and kept them in some special place until I hid them so well I hid them from myself. Dave and I and the girls were in the front row together, and sadly none of them I am in contact with now. Not only that, but Dave and one of the girls I was up front with would end up working for me and stealing over $1300 from my business during their tenure as my employees. Years from knowing this though we happily stood side by side and sang along for the whole set. What I remember most about that second gig was standing in front of Joe and when he sang "Single file like soldiers on a mission." I saluted him and he saluted back. Tim was wearing the exact same shirt he wore at the first gig but I was probably the only one to notice it. And when Tim asked "Who was here at our first gig when only 20 people showed up?" I proudly raised my hand. All the memorizing I did was pretty much for naught because I was so excited to be in the front row I damn near forgot every word to every song, but for some reason I knew every word to 1,000 Good Intentions. The first Rise Against show was in August, I can't tell you the date of the second one. I made my commitment to becoming straightedge sometime between December and January. I don't know the exact date because I was so scared about the whole

thing I kept it to myself "You're the new revolution The angst filled adolescent You fit the stereotype well..."

.All I know for sure was that I'd been edge several months by the second Rise Against gig at Concrete Street in Corpus. he second Rise Against gig also brings to mind another phantom of my past: a girl I was close to named Amanda (not the Amanda I went to Warped Tour w/, that Amanda I've always called Di because her screen name was Dionysus). This was Amanda's first night aout after being kidnapped and raped. Her parents were druggies and didn't want the cops involved so the guys who did it just got away with it and I'd see them at the mall all the time afterward and I couldn't do shit. It was her and her big sister who met me at the gates and stayed with me all night. I loved those girls. . . . Again, digressing. From First To Last opened and we spent the whole set talking about how much they looked like AFI. I ended up leaving the gig early, going to the house of one of them who still lived with his folks, ringing the doorbell and leaving a note in the mail box that said 'YOUR SON RAPES LITTLE GIRLS----just thought you should know'. It didn't really help anything but it made me feel better. During this mindlessly courageous time I was blinded by my commitment. I jumped into being edge with a fervor reserved for things like joining the Hari Krishnas or Jehovah's Witnesses. It was a complete make over of every idea I'd ever held. I didn't know a great deal but once I found it, I knew it was all I had been looking for. The only other person I actually knew who was edge was the straightedge boy, who now had become god-like in my mind. He was the first face of straightedge for me, the ideal, the standard, the one thing I felt I had to live up to. Sadly, by this time he was long gone, moving away from the mall where we worked and on to better things. This fact only drove me forward in a Holy Grail level quest to find him. When he was there I was terrified of speaking to him and then when he wasn't I kicked myself for not having the courage. I was sure that if I did make my way to him, he could impart some knowledge, some advice that would make my whole solitary experience make sense. The soundtrack of that quest was Blood to Bleed: "Steps I take in your footsteps Aren't getting me closer to what is left of the dreams of what I once claimed to know Within my bones this resonates...." Within weeks of each other three amazing things happened: Ceci, my best friend Amanda(Dionysus) and I went to Warped Tour to see AFI and in the process saw Rise Against as well. Then The Sufferer and the Witness came out, and at the same time Jadey and Ceci came to visit me in Corpus for quite possibly the most idyllic summer of my life. It was that summer we saw Rise Against for the third time. At that Warped Tour again we were in front of Joe, and again when Tim sang "Single file like soldiers on a mission... " we saluted Joe and he saluted us back and it was like a little piece of heaven fell to earth, the moment was so perfect. The set was

short because it was Warped Tour but we didn't care. We were together, we loved each other and we sang along with every song we knew. Sufferer and Witness came out in July right in time for Warped Tour and the girls coming down for a visit. I remember this so well because I had a cd of the straightedge boy's band and it seemed so important for me to play it for Jadey and Ceci. Do you remember that line in The Lost Boys: "Now you know what we are, now you know what you are." ? That was how it felt for me, this romanticized notion that my edge was not my own and it was all owing and belonged to someone else. I wanted to be able to trace it like a family tree to say, if I had not met him I would not have found out about AFI, I would not have made my committment, we would have never met, so therefore the life and friendship we have shared has all traced back to THIS. Well, they weren't all that impressed. I have a very clear memory of us being outside the Sonic Drive In and Jadey asking me "Please turn that noise off and put in something else." That something else was the The Sufferer And The Witnessand it stayed in the player for the rest of the trip. Ready To Fall was the song that defined the next year, much later, that I made my edge my own. In my journey I had looked to so many others for advice or reassurance or validation. I did this because I didn't believe in myself. I thought I was weak and sought in others what would make me strong. Sometimes I received it, like messages sent back and forth the guys in Throwdown and the near religious experience of seeing them live all the times I have, of singing a line with Dave, shaking his hand. Most of the time though my search was in vain. I remember very clearly seeking out help online. One guy told me I would never know who I was until I went to a hardcore show. This wasn't exactly bad advice, hardcore shows had the most amazing energy flowing through them and it did feel good to be surrounded by like minded people. The only thing I really learned about myself through going to hardcore shows was that if God had wanted me to hardcore dance, He would not have given me boobs. There was another guy who told me only the most insecure person would EVER wear a straightedge shirt out in public and if you were sincere about it, you'd keep it to yourself. I thought that guy was nuts. The whole POINT of being edge to me was proving I was not like the idiots around me. "With your eyes Glazed and half-smiled Explain to me the details of your God-given right You point your finger In my face but You can't remember what you did last night" I asked another guy what to do if I was tempted to drink again and he told me if I was tempted I was never really straightedge to begin with and I should just do the scene a favor and kill myself already. Then there were the kids that thought I was just the bees knees and were coming to ME for advice. I had no idea what to tell these kids, but I wasn't about to tell them not to wear sXe gear or kill themselves. Because of my own search for answers I refused to turn any kid away. One day they were telling me I was their hero and begging for advice, the next they were telling me I was out of my mind and to get lost. It took a good four years before I learned not to believe them in either case. "This could be my great awakening But how would I know when it's all noise to me? Are these words falling on deaf ears?" Right in the middle of this I had the good fortune to meet a guy named Chris X from Philly. He neither worshipped nor ignored me. He was simply THERE. I have the most vivid memory of this one morning. I had the same dream about the straightedge boy only this time I stepped out and stopped him and asked him if the hormones levels in milk made people more aggressive the way steroids did and asked if I should stop drinking it. Why this popped into my head I will never know. As usual the alarm rang before the blurry form opened his mouth and imparted wisdom. I woke up at 5 am and suddenly HAD to know

the answer to the question. It happened that Chris X was up too. I contacted him and he took the time out of his morning to discuss this with me completely out of the blue. I don't know why this sticks out in my memory but it does: Him being up at five am and taking an hour out of his morning to answer some moronic question from a girl he didn't know and being so nice about it. He is still edge, we are still friends and he is still there when I need him. He is the exception to the rule. Friends fell away and I remained steadfast, yet alone. Slowly though there came the time when I realized I needed to look no further than in the mirror. It wasn't like this was a new thing. I was told this many times and yet I never believed it. Right about this time Rise Against released Ready To Fall: "But here in this moment like the eye of the storm It all came clear to me I found a shoulder to lean on An infallible reason to live all by itself I took one last look from the heights that I once loved And then I ran like hell" The heights I once loved were ego driven, the compulsion to wear a straightedge shirt every day and X's for every gig and dare anyone to tell me otherwise. It was that romanticized notion of my edge,--that it hadn't been mine and all I was, was owed to someone else. It was as if I believed someone had physically stood between me and a fridge full of alcohol that first year and kept me from it. Or that someone had been there to comfort me when my husband was drunk or in a bad mood and was calling me names or throwing me around because I dared come home with a book of Marxist writing or simply did not shut up and go along or renounce my beliefs. I healed myself, I comforted myself and I did almost all of it completely alone. It was slow in dawning but it finally came to me that I was the only one I had to inspire or impress, and my own approval was all I needed. This revelation was scored by every track on Sufferer and Witness. The fourth time I saw Rise Against, I met Ceci in Austin to see them at Stubb's. Stubb's BBQ is a grand place to see any band because if you get there early enough, you can have lunch on the balcony while watching the band's sound check. We found this out the first time we went there, seeing The Rollins Band open up for X. Going to the Rise Against show I told myself "It's not big deal, I've seen them three times before, I'm just going to kick back and eat and enjoy the sound check" but as soon as Tim and Joe took the stage I could barely consume a thing I was so overwhelmed. As we waited in line after lunch for the doors to reopen, I met Ceci's brother Jordan who is, wildly enough, still my friend. Jordan. He hovers on the edges of my life, always there with a kind word whether I actually deserved it or not. He is the only good thing to come out of my friendship with Ceci. Evergreen Terrace opened that show and we were right in front of the guy in the Straightedge Soldier tshirt and that and a brilliant cover of "Mad World" was all I remembered of their set. Circa Survive came on next and Ceci and I took turns booing them and flipping them off. Not that they were necessarily bad, but we were in no mood to entertain the mopey emo set at that point. Soon we were all piled together up front, again in front of Joe. I didn't get to salute him at that gig. Ceci's arms were too tightly around me. Ceci, her girlfriend Grace, Jordan and my husband were tangled in a sea of arms, so tightly that I wasn't sure of whose hand I was holding most of the night. Though by that time I was perfectly comfortable in my commitment, Blood to Bleed still only reminded me of one person and Ceci knew this. I felt she understood me then, I felt she was one of the very few who knew me best. Beside me was my husband, but in my heart was a dream of someone else, of someone who shared my commitment and my ideals, a dream of an idea more than a person, the perfect guy/relationship/life I would never have. Two months later I would find out my husband was seeing a girl from work

that had got him hooked on heroin. Two months later he would come to where I worked and attack me in front of multiple witnesses and when called, the police would do nothing. Two months later I would sit sobbing in the back of a police car because I was too afraid to go into my own apartment and get my things. When responding to my call the enormous officer would glare down at me and say "Why are you afraid to walk in your own home? Are you on drugs or are you just retarded?" Instead of accompanying me inside to get my things they would search me for drugs. Two months later I would realize why Henry Rollins hated cops so much. Two months later. after ten years together, I would leave my husband. I did not know any of this then. All I knew was that in that instant my heart was bleeding inside of me for want of some friendship I would never have, the one thing I believed would make my life complete. It was that friendship, that idea of a person, of perfection, of everything I wanted myself and my life to be, that seemed like the holy grail of the second part of my life. Looking back, maybe it held value only because it was unobtainable. I had not yet learned to find it in myself so I sought it so furiously in a stranger. So, with the ridiculously angelic vision of the first straightedge boy I ever met in my head, and my unfaithful husband beside me, in that crowd at Stubb's, Rise Against tore into Blood To Bleed. It was our first time to hear it live together as they had not played it at Warped Tour. Ceci looked down at me, wrapped her arms around me and held me tight because she knew exactly who I was thinking of and why. As she held on to me with one hand and ran a hand through my hair, we both screamed out those lyrics that had haunted me and driven me on for years. "This place rings with echos of lives once lived, but now are lost Times spent wondering about tomorrow I don't care if we lose it all tonight Up in flames, burning bright.... Within my bones this resonates Boiling blood will circulate Could you tell me again what you did this for?" And just like I was blind to what was about to erupt with my husband I was just as blind to time bomb ticking inside of Ceci that would turn her into a complete stranger the next time we met, at the very same place it would turn out. Had I known that this was the last time she would hold my hand and sing with me and look down on me with love and empathy in her eyes, I would not have wasted my sorrow in grieving for a friendship that never was and instead would have known to grieve for the real friendship I was losing. I should have grieved for hers, but in retrospect, it was no more real than the idea of the one I chased after so fruitlessly. "I don't love you anymore is all I remember you telling me never have I felt so cold But I've no more blood to bleed Cuz my heart has been draining into the sea...." And the strange footnote to that day, that time, that moment of hope and loss and all that was to come is this: Even though his friendship I never actually earned, in his status of a wise, polite stranger, that straightedge boy I never really knew was far more civil than Ceci. His responses, however short they were, however long it took to get them, were genuine. It is such a small thing, his honesty, yet it is more than I can say for ninety percent of the people I've known in the last several years. Another song we sang together that night was Prayer of the Refugee. I had no idea then but that song was about to describe my life. "We are the angry and desperate The hungry and the cold We are the ones who kept quiet and always did what we were told But we've been sweating while you slept so calm in the safety of your homes We've been pulling at the nails that hold up everything you own."

The split with my husband was brutal. First I had to deal with police that didn't care, who told me at one point "Well, if he tries to kill you, call us back, otherwise there's nothing we can do. He's your husband and he has the same right to live here as you do." Thanks to the police not doing anything, I was thrown out of the apartment I had paid for for ten years. The battered women's shelter was full and I would have found myself homeless had it not been for my friend Lilo. Suddenly I was having to start from scratch and then, upon finding a place, having to pack up ten years worth of my life and move it all by myself. "I hit the ground and I'm still running but I need a place to stay tonight I swear I'll be gone in the morning I just need some place warm to close my eyes." Every day I worked until the afternoon, went home and packed until 2 am, fell asleep until 5 am and then got up and did it all again. Then once I was packed I had to move it all. I can't remember why I didn't ask for help but I moved it all alone except for the bed, entertainment center and tv. "The drones all slave away They're working overtime They serve a faceless queen They never question why Disciples of a god That neither lives nor breathes But we've got bills to pay Yeah we've got mouths to feed I won't go back..." This was such a strange time. There was no way to hide what was going on: my husband came to where I worked and jumped me in front of everyone there, I had to tell my boss "My husband kicked me out and I'm homeless at the moment, could I possibly get my check a day or two early to put a deposit down on an apartment?" and I had to own up to the fact that I was straightedge and my husband was a heroin addict. "We're broken but still breathing We are wounded but we are healing We pick up right where we left off Breathe on the ashes that remain So that these coals may become fire To guide our way.." This made my life suddenly seem a really bad B movie. There was nothing to do but go on. I would have asked myself "What would that straightedge guy do in this situation?" if I'd had any idea. Instead I asked "What would Dave Peters of Throwdown do?" and of course the obvious answer was "punch something". As much as I wanted to, I couldn't do that. However, I knew for sure what he wouldn't do and that was curl up in a ball and cry. So I didn't do that either. It was a such horrible time and yet when I look back all I remember is my own strength and the exhilaration I felt when I finally left. "So give me the drug Keep me alive Give me what's left of my life Don't let me go... Pull this plug, let me breathe On my own, I'm finally free..."

Lilo and Di swore I looked great, like I had suddenly gotten 10 years younger. They said I was glowing, but unless I had come in contact with radium I certainly didn't see how. I remember thinking "Well hell, maybe the Socialists were right. Maybe 16 hour days are the way to salvation." "Wake me up inside Tell me there's a reason To take another step To get up off my knees and, Follow this path of most resistance. And where ever it takes us, Whatever it faces and wherever it leads" As I came into my own power, the straightedge boy who had loomed so god-like over the first years of my commitment shrank back down to human size. Deep down I still hoped that if he was to know of all I had gone through he would be a little proud of me for surviving with my integrity intact. But if he didn't, well that was okay too. Survive I did, survive I continue to. "Somewhere between happy, and total fucking wreck Feet sometimes on solid ground, sometimes at the edge To spend your waking moments, simply killing time Is to give up on your hopes and dreams, to give up on your... Life for you, has been less than kind So take a number, stand in line We've all been sorry, we've all been hurt But how we survive, is what makes us who we are" When I had my own place and my own life again, to celebrate I bought myself a Christmas present: a tattoo of a sparrow carrying brass knuckles in her beak. It reminded me of this lyric that had been echoing in my head the whole time: "And if strength was born from heartbreak Then mountains I could move If walls could speak I pray that they would tell me what to do." I enjoyed more than six months of solitude in my cozy little apartment on Airline. I filled my weekends with walks on the beach, solitary shopping excursions for meatless dinners, and nights were spent at the House of Rock and the Underground watching bands, enjoying the freedom of staying out without getting yelled at or called names. I spent Christmas alone on Lilo's floor stuffing myself with processed cheeseballs and watching movies. It was my first UnChristmas. The Jehovah's Witnesses would have been proud! "Warm yourself by the fire, son, And the morning will come soon. I’ll tell you stories of a better time, In a place that we once knew. Before we packed our bags And left all this behind us in the dust, We had a place that we could call home, And a life no one could touch."

But I am flawed and cowed and crippled by the Christian concept of forgiveness. And by the time I would be seeing Rise Against again, my husband would be back by my side. In West Texas his mom had ran him through the MHMR system, let them start him on 7 different drugs, ---including three different tranquilizers and pills for hallucinations and seizures, which he never once had,--- used him to get on welfare, disability, and Medicare. Once he's served the purpose, she called a friend in the sheriff's department and had him pulled from her house, drugged out of his mind on meds at the time, and stuck on a bus to Corpus Christi. The Glasscock County Sherriff's Department called me at work to TELL me "Your husband is on a bus to Corpus, he'll be there at two am. He's your responsibility now." On the bus, because of his state of stupor, he was robbed of everything but his clothes and as much as I wanted to just shove him into the closest homeless shelter, I couldn't. Had it been me, as unlikely as that would be, I would want someone to have compassion. "We are the children you reject and disregard These aching cries come from the bottom of our hearts You can't disown us now, we are your own flesh and blood And we don't disappear just because your eyes are shut" I took him in. At first it was easy. Thanks to the drugs he was sleeping 18 hours a day. Finally I started to investigate what they had him on, what he could do without and how to get him back to normal. I'm not sure how I did it, but I weened him off of every drug he was on. At first it was out of necessity since I was making too much money for him to stay on state sponsored help and he'd have run out eventually. Looking back though, had he sustained that amount of drug intake for long he would have probably died. So he was back for good and conversely Ceci and Jadey and nearly every other friend I had at the time would have turned their backs on me and flocked to other, cooler individuals. All those kids that convinced me they would have killed themselves, starved themselves, cut themselves to shreds, OD'ed, etc had they not met me, who all imposed their problems and lives on mine for five years or more and took up every spare moment of my time and every inch of my heart all turned 18 at once. In turning 18 they realized they knew it all and I was no longer worth their time. "And if you think your words will ever make a difference Think again and carry on..." My husband and I are still together, but all those friends are long gone. I wish I could say he gave up all his demons, but he didn't. He simply traded the big ones for a myriad of lesser evils. He will never be straightedge. And though he claims to be proud of me, to this day he is convinced, utterly falsely, I am hiding some secret affair with the straightedge boy from years ago. I sat him down one day and asked "Do you get that we are straightedge? Do you get that in being straightedge we could not possibly cheat on our significant others and remain straightedge? Do you get that no matter how much he influenced me I barely knew him and he barely gave me the time of day? Do you get that what you are accusing me of is utterly impossible?”

Despite his insistence on this, the idea doesn't bother him enough for him to give up his own addictions and become edge himself. He no longer asks me to change and he is no longer violent, thank god. I no longer ask him to change, though I pray every day he will. We have been together for twenty years now and I have never been with anyone else. This doesn't keep me from dreaming of some nice sXe man who shares my ideals. But I think of it much like I imagine racing on the autobahn, knowing it will never actually happen and knowing I’d never do it even if I could. "We live on front porches and swing life away We get by just fine here on minimum wage If love is a labor I'll slave til the end..." Things in my life settled down for a bit as we prepared to see the boys again at Stubb's BBQ. Through myspace I found my friend Linda that I had not spoken to in fifteen years. As we sat on the balcony at Stubb's I kept one eye on the stage and the other on the door waiting to see her again. When she walked through the doors it was like the last fifteen years never even happened and instantly we picked up right where we left off and again were tearing through Austin with her at the wheel like we had so many times in the past. Because of this joyful reunion I was not first in line when the doors opened, I was buying rainbow necklaces in the gay shops in town and snickering over whether the guy behind the counter was flirting with my husband or not. - That was a strange memory for me, being in the very back of the audience for once, singing alone as Aaron sat on a rock and read a Robert Jordan novel. I was happy to be there, the music was incredible, but the feeling was all wrong. I was isolated and alone, in the back row with my fist raised and Aaron tugging at my arm every other song asking "What song is this? Do I know this one?". I wondered if Ceci was there in the front row, holding on to someone else and convincing them she would have killed herself if they hadn't come into her life. I imagined others in the front row, in our place, saluting Joe, singing our songs while I was the interloper that did not belong anymore. We walked out of the sold out show before the encore, a long drive home facing us. Aaron never lets me stay for the encores. He always wants to hit the road. As we walked to the car, with Worth Dying For wafting through the air above us, I blew a kiss to the wind and told Ceci goodbye. "Feel me rise in the strength I've found inside the warm embracing air Like a glacier melting watch me dissipate I searched for love in an empty world but all I found was hate" It was the lyrics of Rise Against that echoed in my head when I sat down to read the words of Marx and Lenin for the first time as a whole other world opened up for me. It was Rise Against that drove me on as I worked sixty hour weeks. "We're losing daylight but I can't work any faster Under the veil of dust we go on..." Their lyrics saw me through every major event of the last several years of my life. Appeal to Reason was released in the Fall of 2008 and though the year found me miserably poor and unemployed, I still bought it the day it came out. It was on my mp3 player and as I sat in the welfare office applying for food stamps I would hear the lyrics "Despite these petty fortunes we still can't afford a life...." for the first time and I would pause a moment just for the whole zeitgeist effect of it. For Christmas of 2008 I received an email from Ceci after a year and a half of ignoring my every attempt at contacting her. I had tried everything, even terribly childish measures to get some kind of reaction but every letter---first polite, then angry, then groveling-- every call, email, and package was met with silence. A year and a half passed and then I got the email saying "I got the new Rise Against and it made me realize how much I loved and missed you and loved AFI and I want to be friends again. I know you can't forgive me but can we be friends again? There's this song on that new Rise Against that

reminds me of you." True to the bond we had once held there was certainly a song on the new Rise Against that reminded me of us too: "Identities assume us as nine and five add up Synchronizing watches To the seconds that we lost I looked up and saw you I know that you saw me We froze but for a moment In empathy I brought down the sky for you but all you did was shrug" This was exactly what happened the last time we saw each other when she turned up her nose and pretended not to know who I was, just a week after sending me a letter saying how much she loved me. This led to the year plus of her not speaking to and ignoring all attempts at contact I made, even the immature ones. "And if you see me please just walk on by Walk on by Forget my name and I'll forget it too Failed attempts at living simple lives Simple lives Always keep me coming back to you." But too much time had passed and although that Christian weakness crippled me so with my husband, for once I stood strong and had no trouble in keeping the door to my heart shut. I told her not to contact me again. "I count the times that I've been sorry Now my compassion slowly drowns If there's a time these walls could guard you Then let that time be right now."

That doesn't mean that my mind does not still light to her like a bee to a flower, the years we were friends, that feeling of love and camaraderie and the bond I imagined we had. The last three Rise Against albums play the soundtrack of our friendship whenever I turn them on. When I play Appeal to Reason I wonder if this song reminds her of me:

"It kills me not to know this but I've all but just forgotten what the color of her eyes were and her scars or how she got them" If I close my eyes I am there again in that Port Aransas condo, the night we met face to face after talking online for so long. We are huddled together in the bedroom sharing the earphones of a cd player listening to Placebo's Sleeping With Ghosts. I am pulling down the zipper of my boot and showing her three freshly razored X's cut into my ankle, the blood still stuck to a wad of tissue pressed between my sock and skin. She is crying and wrapping her arms around me and telling me she understands everything and that someday she will show me her scars too. "I'll show you mine If you'll show me yours first Let's compare scars I'll tell you whose is worse Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words..." She never did show me her scars. I wonder now if she even had any. There are lots of songs that transport me back then when she was my world. But now I know nothing about her nor anyone else I knew then was real and I wonder if that song ever reminds her of me and the way she led me to believe I was her lifeline, right up until the moment she cut me off and forgot me like a favorite toy after adolescence destroys the need for such playthings. "As the telling signs of age rain down a single tear is dropping through the valleys of an aging face that this world has forgotten ..." This is the music that accompanied my feet hitting the pavement of park sidewalks and treadmills, it is the melodies that buoyed me through endless work weeks and settled into the recesses of my heart in times of quiet contemplation. As I read words written years ago by writers we were never allowed to study in school, it is the soundtrack that played in my mind when those concepts began to make sense. When I read Ten Days that Shook the World by John Reed, what I was hearing in my head was

"but these ghosts come alive like water and wine walk through these streets singing songs and carrying signs, to them these streets belong.." As I struggled to understand the Communist Manifesto I was thinking to myself: "Unknowing, we lie and wait for the rain To wash away what they have made Face down in the dirt with your foot on my back In the distance I hear thunder crack C'mon Stand up! This system of power and privilege is about to come to an end Here come the clouds The first drop is falling down" I look back at many things and laugh. I remember when I was first looking for straightedge shirts I came upon one that said SUPPORT LEFTIST HARDCORE. I had no earthly idea what it meant and was way too scared to ask anyone. Now I can quote Trotsky. When I first turned edge I stopped eating meat for several months until my husband found out and started calling me a Communist. At the time it seemed like the worst thing in the world to be called. He still calls me a Communist but now with laughable results. I'll cock my head, say something to him in Russian, he'll mumble under his breath 'Yeah you only say that because you've had sex with the entire Communist party!", I'll roll my eyes and we go back to our common denominators of movie quotes, comic books, and making fun of people. I always loved the way the Russian alphabet looked and shortly after we were married I got a tramp stamp with his initials in Russian. He now claims it actually means "Welcome aboard, Comrade." I just laugh and we kid each other and life goes on. In the great Holy Grail of a search for wisdom that I thought could only come from the first straightedge boy I knew, I had one great fear: what if I found him again and he was no longer edge? I was terrified of this, sure that if he fell I would too, that if that touchstone was gone, all would be lost. This no longer worries me. I would be sad if it happened, but it would not affect my journey nor cause me to stumble because I have found my own way. It was hard way full of work, trial and error and pure blind luck. Maybe it would have been easier if things had gone differently and yet it is all mine and no one else's.

I have now seen Rise Against eight times each with its own small dramas, like when I was working for Job Corps, worked an 18 hour day, literally passed out in my car from low blood sugar and exhaustion—luckily before I had started the engine. I somehow made it home, downed two peanut butter sandwiches and went to the show where I had no energy to dance, but just stood there and sang.

The last show was the best in years for me. I was in the second row behind a little boy and his mom. His mom was my age and it was her son’s first concert. He was there to see NOFX. They put on an incredible show and I did my best to keep the crowd off the kid. As a reward, the mother gave me their spot and they went to the back when Rise Against came on. I had not been in the front row since that show with Ceci. I felt like I was twenty again. Rise Against is the music that scores ALL of this in my memory. It is the sound of hope and loss, of new directions and ideas, of the brass ring becoming just another small cog in the great, silent machinations of my soul. It is the music of discovering that the strength of the world lies inside my own heart. It is the sound of me walking away from what I loved, it is the joyous noise of friends you're certain is lost forever coming back to you. This is my so-called Rise Against life

#rise against lyrics #rise against #long post under cut #spilled ink

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prettyboybarzal · 5 years ago

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tattoos together (2) // tyler seguin

(PART ONE)

pairing: tyler seguin x reader

summary: it’s been three years since the fourth of july on the cape with tyler and you’ve finally made the trip down to dallas for a visit. some things have changed, some remain the same...

(2016 dallas stars and 2/3 of tyler’s dogs, apologies if some details aren’t accurate about the stars season. i was too lazy to do my research.)

word count: 5k+

author’s note: here’s part two of this fic!!! more to come... please leave me feedback or whatever and reblog/like. thank you for the reaction on the first part! love u <3333333

warnings: more alcohol, more tattoos, prob cursing

June 2016

“Do you really have to go? I mean, you literally just saw him when he was visiting Boston in April.”

When the comment falls from your current boyfriend’s lips, you’re glad that you have your back to him because the eye roll that came after was not pretty. You had to wonder how many times Dan was going to get insecure about your friendship with Tyler before he gave it up. Tyler wasn’t going anywhere, in fact he already had. But, apparently, the distance between Boston and Dallas still wasn’t enough for your fragile boyfriend.

“That was two months ago, and it was only one night,” you point out. You shove a sweatshirt into the suitcase and look up at him. “Besides, I’ve never visited him in Dallas.”

“Okay, but two weeks?” he asks. “It seems like an unnecessary amount of time to visit him.” You don’t respond. This is a conversation the two of you have had too many times and it’s exhausting. But, Dan continues, “It’s just weird to me. I mean, he bought you first class tickets to visit. I wouldn’t do that for someone I wasn’t dating.”

“Tyler has been my best friend since 2011. He’s been with me throughout my undergraduate degree and most of my Masters. He’s been there each time I’ve been left heartbroken by insecure guys, like you’re being right now,” you state. His eyes widen at the tone of your voice. You take a step closer, crossing your arms over your chest. “He’s basically a member of my family and he was devastated when he couldn’t make it to my graduation last month.”

“Can you just let him have his moment and celebrate with me?” you ask. “You have me every day and we spent a week celebrating in Cancun. Let him celebrate with me for two weeks and then you get me back.”

Dan’s face softens. He reaches out and tugs you forward by the waistband of your sweatpants. You fall into him, fitting yourself between his legs as his hands trail up your sides. He captures your face in his hands and says, “Fine. As long as you promise that I get you back, I don’t care.”

“Of course,” you state. He tilts his head up to kiss you and you oblige. It’s short and lacking in passion. When you pull away to grab your toiletry bag from the bathroom, you find yourself wiping his kiss from your lips.

Dan is the second guy you’ve dated since Tyler left and he’s outlasted the other one, but you know he’s not your forever. You’ve only been together for six months or so and the fire has already started to burn out.

Besides, you have big plans that don’t really involve him, ones that you haven’t even disclosed to him yet because you’ve been holding out on speaking them into existence until you’re with Tyler again.

Maybe it’s unfair to string Dan along like this, but you figure he’s a nice enough guy that if things really don’t go your way… At least you’ll have him. And, seeing as the past three years have been shit, things don’t like to go your way.

You share one kiss with your best friend and, suddenly, you’ve thrown off the balance of the universe.

Instead of waking up late on the Fifth of July to make breakfast with Tyler and steal another kiss or two, you woke up at 7 a.m. by a call from your mother. Your dad, who’d always been in good shape, had gone on his usual morning run and suffered a heart attack just half a mile from your house.

The next few days were a whirlwind of hospital food and neck cramps from sleeping by his bedside. Soon enough, the kiss with Tyler was long forgotten, pushed back to a corner of your mind that you weren’t willing to access any time soon.

Tyler was a little ticked. Timing had never been right between the two of you and he finally got the kiss he’d been working so hard for, only for it to be forgotten about hours later. But, he also loved your dad like he was his own.

Tyler showed up on the afternoon of the fifth with lunch for your entire family and ended up staying well into the night, past visiting hours, with you. The next few weeks were much of the same. He even managed to get a few hours alone with your dad when everyone else was at work. The two of them watched baseball on the little TV in the corner for hours on end.

The night before his departure from the city, you went to eat Chinese food on his floor one last time. You hardly made it through your chicken lo mein before sobbing until you couldn’t breathe. Tyler had to remove the cartons from your hands for you before pulling you into his chest and holding you against him like a human weighted blanket.

Adjusting to life without Tyler was harder than expected. You never realized just how much time you spent with him until he was gone. You threw yourself into your classes and started spending more time at home with your parents, especially once your dad was back home.

FaceTime was a daily occurrence until it wasn’t possible because of hockey season, but you didn’t go more than an hour without a text from Tyler and that made it a little bit better.

The two of you counted down the days between his visits to Boston for games and he always managed to get tickets for your entire family to come. You made it a point to grab dinner the night before or the day after his games. Then, he jetted off home or to the next city and the countdown began again.

It’s not that you didn’t want to make the trip to Dallas, in fact you’d had flight itinerary to go on three separate occasions. After your dad was healthy again, the problem with visiting was entirely school related. On the off-chance of freedom during the summers, subsequently his off-season, you were wrapped up in internships and job interviews and family vacations. He begged you to let him visit, but you made sure he spent the summer with his family in Canada.

Your graduation in May meant you had a period of downtime and Tyler wasn’t letting it go unused. The night of graduation, Tyler sent you the itinerary for a flight out of Boston in June to visit him for two weeks with a text that read: Happy Graduation, smartass.

Your flight landed around noon in Dallas and, after collecting your bag from baggage claim, you stood outside the terminal waiting for Tyler. It didn’t take long for him to find you, dodging around groups of tourists and airport employees to get to you.

As soon as he’s close enough, your suitcase is on the floor and your feet are in the air. Tyler nuzzles his face into your neck, taking in the scent of your perfume. The feather light touch of his lips against your skin stirs something in your stomach that you try to shove down as he murmurs, “I can’t believe you’re here.”

After he places you back on your feet, you brace both hands against his chest and trail them up his neck to his cheeks. You hold him in place, studying every inch of the face you’ve been missing. He watches your eyes trail over his face, his lips in a soft smile. From an outsider’s perspective, the two of you probably look like a couple reuniting after far too long a part.

“Every time I see you, you look older.” Your fingers trail over his jaw line and the stubble decorating it. Tyler barks out a laugh. “Honestly, I’m pretty sure FaceTime adds a few pounds because you still look like baby Ty whenever you call me.

At this, Tyler shoves you away.

“I’m kidding!” He rolls his eyes at your exclamation, grabbing your suitcase from the floor to tug it with him out the doors of the airport. You chase after him, lacing your fingers in his free hand as he walks. The movement is muscle memory. It feels so normal that your mind doesn’t even go to the man waiting for you back home.

You gaze down at his arms, both filled with tattoos now. The whiteness of his t-shirt is a stark contrast against the dark tattoos on his arms.

“You look great, Ty.”

“Thanks,” Tyler responds, lifting your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles. He’s about to drop your hands back to your sides, but instead lifts them to look at your wrist. A warm smile finds its way to his lips when he sees the stars on your skin.

The moment doesn’t feel platonic, but it is. It needs to be. And there aren’t supposed to be butterflies after all this time, but they’re back. After all this time, they’re still coming back.

Tyler pulls you out to the Dallas sun and drops your hand when your feet hit the pavement. You follow him to his car, sliding into the passenger seat as he stores your bag in his trunk. When he climbs in beside you, your fingers instinctively reach up to his cheek and poke at his smile lines. He chuckles.

“How was your flight?”

“It was fine,” you answer. “First class was a little extra, I won’t lie.”

“You deserve it,” he states. “You’re a two-time college graduate.”

“You say that like I’m a Stanley Cup champion.” Tyler laughs. Using your best sportscaster voice, you say, “YFN YLN, two-time college graduate, spends her bye week in Dallas, Texas with one-time Stanley Cup Champ, Tyler Seguin.”

“How lucky am I?”

“I have something important to tell you,” you announce as he pulls out of the parking lot. He glances at you, waiting for you to continue your thought. “Let’s just get home first.”

He tries to get it out of you the entire way home, but all you want to do is catch up, so you make him wait.

When you get back to his house, which is bigger than it seems through FaceTime, Tyler pushes the door open and lets out a holler which is met by the sound of paws on the hardwood floors. His two dogs round the corner, butts shaking at the force of their tails. You drop to the floor immediately and embrace them. Tyler watches in amusement, his heart fluttering at how right this feels. It feels like all the pieces of the puzzle are together.

After allowing the dogs to get a good sniff in, you stand upright. You kick your shoes off and walk into his living room, taking in the décor and the furniture. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t impressed, but you also knew his sisters and his mother. There was no way they’d let him leave a place like this undecorated.

Tyler follows you, watching the way you look around and wondering if you like what you see, if this is a place you could see yourself coming home to. But, he’s itching to know what you have to tell him. He clears his throat, calling your attention back to him, and asks, “What’s your news?”

“I haven’t told anyone,” you say. “Not even Dan.”

“Really?” Tyler asks. He hates the way your admission makes him feel cocky, like a winner. Take that Dan. “Go on. Tell me.”

“I just accepted a job at a publishing house in LA!”

“What?”

“I’m not full-time yet,” you inform him. Tyler is grinning like he’s just won the lottery, but he doesn’t speak so you continue, “It’s going to get my foot in the door, though, which is huge. I’ve been coming up empty in Boston and I’ve always wanted to live out in California.”

Tyler steps forward and wraps his arms around your waist. You sway as he squeezes you, taking in the warmth of his body and the silence of the room. When he pulls away, it’s just enough to look down at you. His hands stay on your waist. Platonic.

He drops his forehead to press against your own, like he’d done that night in July three years ago, and says, “I am so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” you whisper. “I’m excited, but I’m nervous.” Tyler steps back and falls onto the couch. You join him, sitting sideways to face him. “It’s so far from home.”

“Trust me, I know about being far from home.”

“I know,” you state. “I just feel like it’s different for you. I don’t mean to minimize the situation, but you have a team. You spend every day with those guys like they’re a family for you. I’ll be moving to California alone and it’s not like I can just adopt my coworkers as my family. They have families of their own.”

Tyler doesn’t really know what to say, but he tries.

“YN, if anyone can move somewhere and start fresh… It’s you,” he says. “This is an awesome opportunity and you don’t have to stay there forever. It’s just a stepping stone. Besides, California is beautiful and warm and I’m already excited to visit you when we’re on the west coast.”

“I needed to hear you say that,” you admit. Your cheeks feel hot and your certain that there’s a dark red blush on your skin. Tyler notices it and can’t stop the smirk that comes to his lips. “My parents have been waiting to hear about the job offers and my decisions. They’re super excited for me. But, I needed you to give me that vote of confidence.”

“You came to the right place.” He drops his hand to Marshall’s head and scratches, detaching his eyes from your face so his next statement doesn’t feel as loaded. “I’m your biggest fan. You could tell me that you’re moving to Mars and I’d still back you up. You can literally do anything.”

“Thanks,” you murmur. Your eyes are still watching him as he vigorously scratches the dog’s head. He doesn’t look back up at you. Cash jumps up and places his paws on your thigh. You lean down and place a kiss on the top of his head. The moment you share with Cash catches Tyler’s attention. He watches you stare at his dog before he finally asks, “What are you going to do about Dan?”

You sigh, dropping your head into your hands and respond, “Break up with him.”

“Just like that? No long distance?”

“It’s not my cup of tea,” you state, glancing up at him. “The long-distance thing is doomed.”

“You do it with me.”

“You’re different.”

Tyler smirks to himself before standing up off the couch. He grabs your bags from the floor and slings them over his shoulder. Then, he turns back to you and extends his hand.

“Let me give you the grand tour.”

Tyler tugs you along with him, hand-in-hand, through the halls and into each room. The dogs follow closely behind, stopping short each time you step foot into a new room. They’re obsessed with Tyler and you can’t say you blame them.

“You can stay in here, if you want,” Tyler states, motioning the guest room. “You know I don’t mind sharing a bed with you, but I’m not sure Dan would like that.”

The last stop is his bedroom. He pushes the door open to reveal a light grey room with a king size bed in the middle. His walls are bare except for some Stanley Cup memorabilia, including his old Bruins jersey framed and hung over his dresser. He drops your hand as you walk through the threshold.

Tyler plops your bag on the floor at the end of his bed before dropping himself onto the mattress to watch you scan his room. He asks, “What do you think?”

“I love it. Who decorated?” you ask. You poke the head of a Tyler Seguin bobble head and giggle as it nods at you. Tyler chuckles.

“Well, I gathered all the things to put in here, but my mom was the one who organized it all,” he explains. Then, he stands up and walks over to the television stand across the room. He picks up a black picture frame and waves it in the air. “This is the best part though.”

You walk over and take the picture frame from his hand, smiling fondly at the memory. You’re sandwiched between Tyler and Jamie Benn in the picture. It was taken the first time he came back to play in Boston after his trade. He’d been talking about Jamie for weeks, teasing you by saying he’d already replaced you. You told Tyler to bring Jamie to dinner, so you could see what all the hype was about.

Turns out the hype was warranted. You loved Jamie as much as Tyler did.

“My two besties,” Tyler muses at the photo. You laugh. “Speaking of Chubbs, he wants to grab dinner and drinks with us tonight.”

“Thank God!” you exclaim, placing the picture frame back on the dresser. “That’s the reason I even came here.”

Tyler’s jaw drops in shock and, moments later, his hands are gripping your waist. He flips you onto to bed, tickling your sides until your eyes are watering from laughing so hard. He grabs your hands and pins them above your head. It’s then that you realize what a compromising position you’re in with him settled between your legs.

If he’s thinking about it too, he doesn’t let on. Instead, he lowers his face so that he’s just inches from your lips and says, “Take it back.”

“Did I bruise your ego?” you tease. He raises his eyebrows, not backing down. “What if I meant it?”

“You didn’t,” Tyler pushes. “So just take it back.”

You stare at him with a grin, but he stares back with his mouth in a tight line. You try to pull your wrists from his grip. It only gets tighter. Then, you stop struggling and allow your arms to fall limp against the mattress. He smirks as your eyes flit across his face, down to his lips, then to his bicep where you see part of his star peeking out.

This isn’t platonic, you’re sure of it, but you like how it feels.

You glance back up at him with a mischievous smile and state, “We can’t stay like this forever. Eventually you’ll get tired.”

“Then I’ll just lay on top of you until you run out of air,” he answers. It’s like he’s thought through it all. “You underestimate me. I have a fragile ego and I don’t take insults lightly.”

“You’d think I would’ve learned this by now.”

“You’d think,” he repeats. You sigh. “Say it.”

“I didn’t mean it,” you murmur. He smirks and releases your hands, rolling onto his back beside you. You stand up, out of his reach, and say, “I really just came here because you bought me the tickets and I didn’t want them to go to waste.”

Jamie Benn played a huge part in the friendship you had with Tyler. When Tyler introduced you to each other during his first season with the Stars, you and Jamie just clicked. He was sarcastic, a little bit mean, but all teddy bear underneath the layers. Think of him like an ogre.

He was brought along every time Tyler hung out with you during their roadies to Boston. At first, you figured it he just wanted you to get to know his new Dallas friends. But, after a while, it felt like maybe there was another reason Jamie came. It felt like Jamie was a buffer.

When Tyler was playing in Boston, there were no boundaries between the two of you. You held hands all the time (Tyler was obsessed with your fingers). He found ways to kiss you whenever he could (usually on the top of the head because that was what he felt was most platonic). You even shared a bed on nights you had sleepovers (which made sense at your place where you only had one bedroom, but Tyler had a whole guest room for you. What was the whole point in sleeping with him then?).

As soon as the kiss happened, and the discussion about it didn’t, Jamie was always around. Tyler stopped playing with your fingers, he only ever kissed your cheek hello and goodbye, and you never had sleepovers anymore. It was like Jamie was his own personal conscience come to life.

“Are you still with that guy?” Jamie asks, taking another sip of his wine. You nod in response, mouth too full of wine to answer. Tyler had slipped away to the bathroom just before your food arrived and it took Jamie all of one minute to start his interrogation. “Dan, right? How does he feel about you being here with Ty?”

“He’s a little insecure about our friendship. Well, maybe more than a little, but it’s something he just needs to deal with. Tyler’s not going anywhere. He’s outlasted even my college friends.”

“Insecure because of that kiss?” Jamie asks. You choke on the wine in your mouth, but quickly grab your napkin to dab at the corners of your mouth so he doesn’t register your reaction. He does register it, though. Jamie is all knowing when it comes to what goes on between you and Tyler.

“No, not insecure because of the kiss,” you answer. “He, uh, doesn’t know about the kiss.”

“No?” You shake your head. “How come?”

“I just never thought it was something that needed to be discussed,” you state. “Nothing ever came of it. Tyler’s here, I’m there. It was just a kiss. It’s not something I need to talk about with him because it meant nothing.”

Jamie doesn’t respond, opting to watch you scramble over your words instead. He knows you’re full of shit. That kiss meant everything to the both of you. Tyler admitted it to Jamie himself and, although you never have, Jamie finds you incredibly easy to read.

Tyler comes back to the table, bringing the conversation to a screeching halt. He sits down, blissfully ignorant to the fact that Jamie has shattered the bubble of friendship once again. No one says anything. Tyler just takes another swig of his wine and smiles at you.

When the check comes, all three of you fight over it. Jamie grabs at it first, then Tyler, and when you reach forward to take it, they bark at you.

“You’re broke,” Tyler remarks while Jamie simultaneously murmurs, “Yeah, right, YN.”

The fight for the check is quickly reduced to the two of them. Until, finally, Tyler grunts, “Chubbs, I’m trying to impress her. Let me pay.”

Jamie’s entire body shakes with laughter at the sight of both of your red cheeks.

The check is paid and the two of them whisk you off to a local hole-in-the-wall type of bar. The bartender knows them and even points out a signed photo of himself with them when you sit at the counter. He announces, “My favorite Stars players!”

“Don’t tell Esa,” Jamie warns the bartender who chuckles in return before grabbing two drinks for the boys.

“What’ll you have, sweetheart?” he asks with a sweet Southern drawl to his words. Your eyes scan down the drinks on tap before settling on a locally brewed ale. It’s brought to you with a wide smile and a wink.

The next two hours fly by. People come and go, occupying the seats around the three of you and occasionally asking for selfies with the two superstars. With each drink, the line drawn between you and Tyler that separates your friendship from a relationship starts to blur. It isn’t until you relocate to a booth on the other side of the bar that you realize what’s going on.

Tyler’s hand settles on your thigh and he honestly doesn’t even realize what he’s doing because it feels so natural for him to touch you again. Dan is out of sight, out of mind for him. Apparently, the distance between Texas and Massachusetts is enough for Tyler to forget.

You’re hyper aware of the way his calloused palm feels against your skin, unable to stop your mind from wandering when you recognize how large his hand is against you.

When you look up, you meet Jamie’s eyes. He gives a quick look at the palm on your thigh and then raises his eyebrows at you. Subtly, you slide out of the booth to “use the bathroom”, but not quick enough to avoid hearing Jamie warn Tyler, “You gotta stop.”

The bathroom is one single stall. You get in there and look at yourself in the mirror in an effort to pep talk yourself. Either you needed to set some boundaries with Tyler for the next two weeks and squash the tension, or you needed to just deal with the overly touchiness of your friendship without being a shitty person to Dan.

Boundaries never needed to be a thing back in Boston. How are you even supposed to make them now, especially after 5 long years of friendship?

Do you even want to?

Maybe just having Jamie around would be enough to delay the conversation.

As if he knows you’re feeling guilty, Dan’s contact pops up on your screen while you’re on the way to the bathroom. You glance up at the boys. Tyler notices your hesitation in approaching the table and watches as you turn away to press the phone to your ear.

“Hey,” you greet. “What’s up?”

“I haven’t heard from you,” he states. “How are you? Are you having fun?”

“Yeah, we grabbed dinner with Jamie and now we’re just catching up over drinks,” you answer. You swing your body back around to glance at the booth. Both boys are staring at you until Jamie diverts his attention back to Tyler and says something. Tyler glances at him quickly, nods, then looks back at you. “How’s your night?”

“Boring,” he grunts. “I miss you.”

“I’ll be back soon!”

“Not soon enough,” he complains. You chuckle at him, but don’t reply. “I really wanna keep you on the phone, but I know the boys are just waiting for you to hang up. I’ll let you go. Have fun. Tell them I say hello.”

“Will do,” you lie. You won’t tell them because you know that neither of them really care if Dan says hello or not. “I’ll text you later tonight.”

“I love you.”

“Love you, Dan,” you respond. Before he can say anything about the way you dropped the ‘I’, you’re hanging up the phone and shoving it into your back pocket.

Back at the booth, Tyler has his back against the wall on the other end of the bench. His arm isn’t even within reach of your thigh and Jamie looks like a proud Dad when Tyler doesn’t immediately reach over to embrace you.

Around 9:30 p.m., the three of you leave to wander the streets around the bar. It’s a pretty busy area, filled with bars and restaurants, so people are bustling around the streets either just starting their night or ending it. You walk beside Tyler, inches apart from each other so that you’re close enough, but not too close. Jamie walks behind you two, preoccupied by his phone.

The back of Tyler’s hand keeps brushing along yours and it’s driving him crazy that he feels like he has to stop himself. After Jamie’s scolding at the bar, he knows he can’t keep touching you like this, even though he wants to. He falls back a step and pretends to ask Jamie something. Really, he just needs to step away from you for a moment.

You continue walking ahead of them alone. It’s so warm out, comfortable, and the streets are beautifully lit with string lights. There’s music floating from the nearby bars that you find yourself humming along to. You walk two blocks like that, the two of them just a few steps behind you.

Until, suddenly, the wind is knocked out of you as a pair of arms come around your waist. Jamie Benn be damned.

“Let’s get more tattoos!” Tyler exclaims. He pulls you into his chest, bringing your ass against a part of him you try not to think about. The light from the tattoo shop beside you shines on the pavement. You glance behind you and find his eyes fixed on you. “In honor of your big accomplishment.”

Jamie catches up to you two, stopping short to glance at the shop before looking back at Tyler’s arms around your waist with a knowing smile. You slip out of Tyler’s arms under his watchful gaze and announce, “We’re getting tattoos. Are you in?”

“I think I’m out on that tonight,” Jamie says with a chuckle. “But, I’ll come watch.”

Tyler grabs your hand and tugs you into the shop. Almost immediately, the tattoo artists recognize him. They jump up to greet him and Jamie, praising the two of them for the hockey season. Once they’re settled, Tyler informs them of the decision you two have made to get a spontaneous, drunk tattoo. And, crazily enough, they agree to the last-minute appointment.

“Tyler, what are we even going to get?” you ask. You flip through one of the books of art they have displayed at the counter. Everything is so intricate, beautiful, but they’re not tattoos meant for your body. You like the small, delicate tattoos.

“You picked last time,” he reminds you. “I wanna pick this time.”

“Don’t pick anything stupid,” you warn. He chuckles, sliding his arm around your back to pull you closer to him. He lowers his face to yours and presses the tip of his nose against the tip of your nose.

“I would never,” he says seriously. He stands straight again, pulling his arm away as you settle back onto the floor. He pulls his phone from his back pocket. “I’m going to Google some ideas.”

“Tipsy Tyler and Google are helping you make this decision?” Jamie asks with a grin. “You’re very trusting of him.”

Tyler rolls his eyes and sits on the leather couch in the front of the shop to browse the internet. He knows what you like, so he doesn’t ask many questions for your input. Nothing flashy, nothing big, something that screams YN, he thinks.

While Tyler scrolls through his phone, Jamie leans both of his elbows on the counter beside you. He flicks through the art book and points out ones that he likes, making small talk about what types of tattoos you usually look for. He drops his voice to a whisper, “I can’t believe you and him are going to get a second set of matching tattoos.”

“They don’t match.”

“Yes, they are,” Jamie argues. “Your tattoos are like pairs of socks. They go together.”

“I never match my socks.”

“I have an idea!” Tyler pipes up. Everyone’s attention is back to the boy with backwards hat. He stands up from the couch and walks over, Pinterest on full display. You giggle at his method of finding your tattoo. He hands the phone to you and leans against the counter as you look at it. “They’re California poppies.”

“It’s pretty,” you remark. The tattoo is a thin black line creating three California poppies in a small bouquet. It’s delicate, pretty, and totally you. You look back up at Tyler with a smile. “Well, what are you going to get?”

“One small California poppy,” he answers. Jamie chuckles beside you, thinking how absolutely nuts it is that Tyler is going to get a flower etched onto his skin for a girl. You send a quick elbow to his stomach, but Tyler’s oblivious to the moment shared between the two of you. “I have a spot near my shoulder that needs to be filled.”

You decide to get the tattoo on your ribs, which means you’ll have to take your shirt off. Jamie immediately excuses himself to sit on the couch up front. Tyler just stands there dumbly, unsure of what to do with himself.

“Do you want me to go sit with Jamie?”

“Nah,” you answer. You pull the shirt up and over your head. Tyler swallows, forcing himself to keep his eyes above your neck. “Oh, relax. You’ve seen me in less than this before.”

And it’s true. One time you got so drunk that Tyler picked you up from a bar after a girls’ night out and you stripped out of your clothes as soon as you entered his apartment. That was four years ago now and ages before the kiss.

You lay on your side, leaving your ribs on full display and tuck your hands under your head. Tyler grabs a chair and sits beside you, finally at eye level.

“I honestly thought you weren’t going to pick something this pretty,” you admit. Tyler chuckles, leaning back in the chair to scratch at his stubble.

“Only pretty things for you,” he says softly. You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head at the sweetness of his comment. You close your eyes as the tattoo artist draws on your skin with a pen, marking up the spot where your newest art will go.

Tyler watches you, eyes soft and wide. He rests his elbow on the arm of the chair he’s sitting in and drops his head into the palm of his hand, staring shamelessly and without a care that you might open your eyes to see him admiring you.

“Are you going to fall asleep?”

“I might,” you answer. Your lips turn up at the corners just before you pretend to start snoring. Tyler laughs at you and your eyes pop open to the sound. They close again after you get a good look at his giggly face.

When the artist starts inking your skin, Tyler walks around the table to get a better look. He watches the black ink stain your skin and he feels the same way he felt when you got the stars three years ago. He wants to run his fingers along the lines, trace the ink. And, secretly, he wants to kiss it.

#tyler seguin #tyler seguin x reader #tyler seguin fic #tyler seguin story #tyler seguin imagine #dallas stars #dallas stars hockey #hockey imagine #dallas stars imagine

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yumapii · 5 years ago

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[Event Story] D.C. 10 Count [10/12]

Parts 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

[track]

Touji: How was it on your end?!

Shion: No use, I can’t find him.

Touji: Oh no… Just where did he fly off to? Don’t tell me he drifted off into space?! If that’s the case we won’t have any means of retrieving him…

Senri: I don’t think it’s that grave… But this situation is so strange, even the famed detective Senri-kun can’t find him…

Takaomi: He’s most likely stuck in some tree somewhere, right? Why did he fly off in the first place?

Touji: Bianchi-kun and I were competing, and then some stuff happened, and after that Bianchi-kun said some stuff, and before any of us knew it, he was already floating away…

Yuma: I don’t get it.

Yuni: “I will make you remember your loss.”

Yuni: He chickened out after I said that to the Champ.

Shion: …..

Senri: For real?

Yuni: …..

Touji: Bianchi-kun?! Where are you going?!

Yuma: Harimiya, let’s regroup for now. It’ll be hard to look for a balloon without a proper plan.

Touji: He’s not a balloon, he’s Kuma-senpai! !

Touji: However, what you say is true… We’re going to need a thorough plan. Now’s the time to activate this Harimiya brain. I’ll even contact Yoshiji to employ the Private Police blahblahblah~

Shion: …..

[kumayuni room]

Champ: Huff, huff, huff…

// Returning to the room, someone I “didn’t recognise” was working out passionately in the dark. //

Yuni: …..

Champ: Why are you standing there~? Oh, since you’re here, what about training with me?

Yuni: …..

Champ: ….. sigh

// Growing impatient at my lack of words, this person who merely looks like President-san steps off his machine to stand before me. //

Champ: What’s wrong?

// A little bit of moonlight illuminates the room. We exchange looks. Pushing down the weirdness of facing that appearance, I firmly return his stare. //

Yuni: Let’s make a deal.

Champ: A deal?

// With a snort, he drops his gaze. //

// After that, my “favourite disc” was snatched away. //

// In the dark of the night, someone yelled. //

???: rou

???: Kuma Rintarou!

Rintarou: … like I said…

Rintarou: It’s Kumarin to you…

// Coaxed to open my eyes at those words, the starry sky comes to view. //

Rintarou: ( Too dazzling… )

[park]

// A voice in the darkness had called me back to reality. //

Shion: You’re finally awake.

Rintarou: Huh? Why am I in a tree again?

Shion: Don’t say such troublesome things. You were the one who flew away, no?

// Those words trigger my memory. //

Rintarou: ( Yeah~ That’s right. I let myself float off without any resistance but to think I would be caught by a branch so nearby. )

Shion: Anyway, come down. Everyone’s worried…

Rintarou: Nyahaha, sorz sorz--

Champ: I found Mikepon.

// I stiffen at the voice. //

Champ: I happened to be out training but this saves me a trip to your room ☆

Shion: What?

Champ: Hey now, I was just greeting ya ♪ Too much frowning and you’ll ruin your natural beauty, you know?

Shion: Right back at you, you’re just picking a fight aren’t you?

Champ: Well, I wouldn’t say it’s to that extent but I guess?

Rintarou: …..

// Although this guy caused tension around him, he himself was looking around nonchalantly. //

Champ: Is that supposed “other me” over there?

Shion: What does it matter to you?

Champ: Well what’s it matter to you? I only asked if he was around, what’s wrong with that?

// For some reason he’s being snappy. //

Rintarou: ( What’s this about? )

// Mikepon senses it too and sneaks a small glance at me but-- //

Shion: He’s not here…

Champ: Bingo ☆ I could tell from your eye movement.

Champ: Hey, other me, are you looking?

Shion: …..

Champ: I have a request, ya see?

// My body looks at Mikepon, no at SHION. //

Champ: You were the one who knocked “me” out at the park, right? Then how bout challenging me too?

Rintarou: !

Shion: Stop it, that’s--

Champ: Mikepon, it’s uncouth to get in between fights amongst men.

Shion: …..

Champ: Anyway, SHION-chan was made for combat, right? I don’t really get it but it’s a stain that you defeated “the other me” so I’ll take you on, come now.

// The Champ stands imposingly, doing some light stretches as he continues to taunt. Then SHION steps forward without orders. //

SHION: …..

Shion: Wait--

// He longer hears or sees anything else. I know this because it is “me”. //

Champ: Ready, Go!

// At once, I witness a familiar move. And just like I did that time, the other me reflexively goes for the counter. //

Rintarou: ( He’ll lose. )

// Like a replay reel, the same moves are being repeated again, so the conclusion will be the same. But-- //

// The “Champ” takes a huge step forward into his opponent’s space and then-- //

SHION: !

// With a strong punch, catches SHION in the cheek with a clean hit. //

Shion: !

// Losing balance, SHION falls to the ground, unmoving. //

// With just one move, this guy easily defeated the opponent who knocked me out. //

Champ: Haha. Just like I thought.

Champ: Err, this way? Oh or was it there? Hey~ I don’t know where you’ve gone but…

// Although the Champ wasn’t supposed to be able to see me, his gaze was firmly fixed onto me. //

Champ: I think I’m more suited to being “me”. And you’re more suited to wandering for eternity, don’t you think?

Rintarou: ( ….. )

Champ: Did he say something?

Shion: I don’t know, just go away already.

Champ: Aww, I’m sorry, then just one more thing.

Champ: I’m still more suited to being “me” but I will be doing the match with Yuniyuni who wants to knock me out, so you should come watch.

// He takes a look at the silent Mikepon, then with a lazy smile, he leaves the area. //

Shion: …..

Rintarou: …..

Rintarou: sigh

// I heave a huge sigh, trying to organise my thoughts. Even the silence couldn’t bury this patheticness. //

Rintarou: Ah crap, I’m strong, man…

// Recklessly facing any opponent, a heart that simply doesn’t know defeat, with surprising audacity, he mercilessly charges forward to deliver a finishing blow. //

Rintarou: If only I didn’t lose then…

Shion: Take revenge.

Rintarou: Eh?

// I blink my eyes at Mikepon. //

Shion: Take your revenge. You are you. Because this version of you is the you of the present. If you have the energy to chase after “what ifs”, then stand up and show us your guts.

Rintarou: ( Stand up… )

// It was rare for Mikepon to be so imploring. //

Shion: It doesn’t matter if you’re motivated by anger or regret, it’s better than standing still, and letting yourself be left behind by the current.

Rintarou: …..

// Back then, I didn’t stand back up. //

Rintarou: ( “What if at that time?” “What if at that time?” Thinking like that will turn even today into a “what if at that time?” )

SHION: …..

// I had been clenching my fist hard enough to leave marks when SHION soundlessly stands up. //

Rintarou: ( You’re going to struggle with me? )

// Although I couldn’t feel the ground, I put my feet down, lowering my waist, both fists at the ready.

Rintarou: This is literally shadow boxing, huh?

there’s a bit of ‘people die when they are killed’ type of talking in this story, haha

#translation #dream!ing #event story #event:dc 10count #kuma rintarou #bianchi yuni #mikekado shion

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piratical-princess · 8 years ago

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Rules: Tell your followers 11 random facts about yourself and tag 11 people. Tag backs are allowed but if you get tagged again, you must not repeat any of the facts you mentioned in the previous round. The facts can be absolutely anything, whatever you feel like sharing and whatever comes to mind first.

tagged by @pentamerous

1. Because I finally live in a place where food will actually be delivered to your home, I’m exploring Chinese food more than I ever did when I lived in Hawaii and sesame chicken is fucking delicious. But my heart belongs to these little chewy marinated beef thingies that look like high quality dog food. I swear to gawd.

2. Yesterday some guy tricked me into looking at his penis. It was impressive enough but what killed me was that when I tried to ask him questions about what the deal was, he actually seemed like a smart and kinda funny guy who just had a nasty habit of being a flasher.

3. I went out with a guy the other night, actually out of my home, which is bizarre for me. He was an ex-junkie, ex-felon, ex-homeless man, currently dodging a boxcutter-wielding ex girlfriend and living with one mad chemist, one alien hunter, and one guy he described only as “interesting”. We had Thai, walked on the beach in the dark, and looked at boats. I really wanted to be his best friend but he hasn’t called me.

4. The tree tattoo I had for years and didn’t like finally got fixed. The artist made a sketch of what I wanted and it looked great. When he was finally finished it did not look great. Now I have to wait till it heals, find another artist, and cover up the cover-up.

5. I am constantly in need of companionship and yet constantly behind on projects I should be working on. If I gave up trying to chase after people and just focused on work, maybe... oh and stop doing dumb tag memes.

6. A fella online gave me a new nickname. Dreamy Disaster. It will replace Rhonda Voux as my new stripper name.

7. When people ask me why I moved away from Hawaii and I don’t want to give them the whole story I usually tell them something nutty and they usually believe me. Hawaii doesn’t sell Vernor’s ginger ale, so I was like, fuck that. I’m on the run from my old boss who was a drug lord and I made him one bad latte. A circus bear fell in love with me and I had to go. The relationship might have worked but his ex was a... well, you know.

8. It was too dark at night. I bought myself a nightlight shaped like a mushroom and now it’s too light. I am thinking the dark may not be the problem.

9. One of my hermit crabs is bigger and more active and running around like a champ. One of them is pale and dropping claws from stress and hiding under the sand. Experts say he is molting but I’m worried.

10. A former football player built like a god and looking like a tall Lenny Kravitz just offered to give me the business and I actually said no. I ACTUALLY SAID NO. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME I SAID NO?!

11. I COULD HAVE HAD THAT AND I DIDN’T, HE WAS INTO MY BIG ASS AND I WAS LIKE ‘OH I’M LOOKING FOR MORE THAN A ONE NIGHT THING BUT YOU’RE ADORABLE, BYEEEE’ WHAT AN IDIOT!

tagging @acroamatica, @duamuteffe, @cilbiscuit, @gingerhaole, @geekymalefeminist, @lotosparvula, @pirateliz, @rocketorca, @simcha-joy, @taylorisweird, @my-life-as-a-bird, @serranodebergerac

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roserecaps · 8 years ago

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Week Four: Ex Mates and Shitty Dates

We open up this week with Nick and Vanessa awkwardly sitting on the stoop like two 14 year-old girls that are dishing the shit about Becky giving Greg dome in the back of the school bus.

Vanessa: “I only saw two seconds, but two seconds was enough.” Nick: “Damn, if you waited another three you would have seen me finish...”

#Bounceygate

Before the rose ceremony Taylor and Sarah wake a sleeping Corinne to begin a slut-tervention.

Sarah: “We’re gonna tell it to you real right now, the girls feel disrespected. We feel you think you’re entitled.” Corinne: “I am not privileged in any way.” --- Step One: Denial ---

Corinne: “You do you, you do your girl... and Imma do me (and so is Nick).”

MIDAY ROSE CEREMONY

The early rose ceremony is really considerate of the girls that don’t get a rose, catch an early flight, happy hour, can still make your 7pm Tinder date.

Final Rose goes to Corinne.

Vanessa: “When he said Corinne’s name, I saw the energy in the room go like, what the hell?” -- Wow V, you can see energy... Cool.

Corinne: “I am so happy I got a rose, now I get to make out with Nick for another week. Come get it Nick *grabs tits*” (we are not making this up... this is happening on basic cable).

Someone load every Corinne clip in the GIF machine ... I need these all right now.

THE GIRLS ARE HEADING TOOOOO Milwaukee......

Chris and Mary (Nick’s parents) look absolutely proud of what their son has become... The same way that Aaron Rogers is proud of Jordan. Mary definitely heard she was going to be on TV and took a picture of Claire Underwood to the local Hair Cuttery and said give me this.

One-On-One - Danielle L.

I knew there was a Danielle M., but wasn’t sure why. Now I learn there is another Danielle. Nick selects her for a date and leaves the rest of the women in the middle of Wakka Flakka, WI with nothing to do.

Nick: “One time i jumped in this river for $12″ Danielle L.: *Lol* Nick: “You could do a lot with $12 then...” Danielle L.: *LOL* Nick: “Then they didn’t wanna pay me, so I had to like chase them down.” Danielle L.: *LMAO*

Bitch... I will give you $120 to never laugh again.

Nick shows D.L. the library where he didn’t study, but where he made out with girls. This kid don’t play...

They get to decorate shitty cookies and force them to make out, then stroll down the street and “bump into” Nick’s ex. I know this town sucks and there is nothing to do, but hearing about your library fuck fest, 11 year-old rejections and meeting your ex at a diner doesn’t seem like any date you should take someone on.

Cancel the season Nick is about to rail Amber right on this street corner.

Danielle L.: “I am having so much fun on this date.” -- I would rather take a drill to my temple than watch anymore of this date, so maybe they edited out the “fun”.

The couple pops a squat on top of a muddy hill to discuss more of Nick’s middle school make outs... We get it bro, you fuck.

Nick: “You seem really put together, tell me the things that suck about you.” D.L.: “My parents got divorced, so I don’t want to rush into a relationship, I don’t want to rush into marriage” --- So I came on a show that forces you to marry someone you know for 3 weeks.

Group Date card arrives

Danielle M: “Everyone, and Corinne and not Raven.” Raven: “Corinne’s name was on there and mine wasn’t!”

GROUP DATE

The girls arrive a farm where it apparently smells like “cows and nature” ... Ugh been there, smelled that. Cow + Nature = Poop.

Corinne: “I would rather be at a spa being fed a taco... preferably... chicken.” (Preach sister, my feeling every day).

--- QUOTE OF THE NIGHT ---

“Farm chores, what the fuck are farm chores. I don’t even make Raquel do farm chores. She’s better than farm chores. She works for me.” - Corinne

Live look at Raq:

I need to get this girl to follow me around all day and just spew this priceless knowledge. She’s a mini Buddha with smaller tits.

They bring a cow out to get milked by the new farm hands. Jaimi steps right up and handles those utters like a champ. The girl has handled a nipple or two in her day.

Corinne starts to get the vibe that the squad ain’t feelin’ her. Not sure where she is getting this impression, everyone seems to really respect her and her actions.

Fun Fact: Michael Jordan and Abe Lincoln took naps... people forget that.

Kristina pulls Corinne off to the side to ask if (say it with me) “She is there for the right reasons”. Co-co seems to either be giving Kristina the silent treatment or really trying to figure out why she talks weird.

Corinne: “Nick and I had an adult convo... We talked and he didn’t even touch my areola.”

One-On-One - Raven

A date with Raven in Nick’s hometown...

Nick: “This is my sister, Bella, and this is a group of 14 middle schoolers we get to hang out with.” Raven: “Greeeeat.....”

Nick: “Dad... this is Raven” Dad: “Whatta kinda name is that?”

Taylor and Danielle M. continue to shit talk about C as they sit around their Wisconsin pool aka the bathtub. “Can we go back to LA?!”

Raven: “Did you like that we came to your game today?” Bella: “Well I liked that there were more people to cheer me on, especially when I score.”

Bella sounds like a selfish little bitch to me.

Raven spills her guts about how she caught her man cheating, thrusting and how she may or may not be wanted for a double homicide.

COCKTAIL PARTY/ROSE CEREMONY

Corinne: “Taylor is gross... I’m disgusted. *Eats Pig in a Blanket* I’m Disgusted. *Eats Pig in a Blanket* I’m hungry and disgusted.”

C and T throw the gloves off (gets under a blanket next to a bonfire) and fight it out. Taylor tries to teach Corinne what things are... and she runs a multi-million dollar business so she knows pretty much everything. Round one seems to be over, but this is a fight that’s going a full 12 (a two on one).

Until next week peel back the husks until you get to the luxury, buttery, golden pellets of information.

#The Bachelor #tv recaps #nick viall #ABC

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touristguidebuzz · 7 years ago

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Meet the Team: The Many Faces of Nomadic Matt

From tech and coding to design to fixing bugs getting readers books when downloads fail to scheduling social media or running the forums, it takes a village to run this website. I simply couldn’t run the website, write, travel, eat, sleep, or anything in between if I didn’t have the support and help of an amazing group of people – and I think it’s time you formally met them all! So, without further ado, here’s team Nomadic Matt:

Erica

Erica has been working for me for over three and a half years and is my director of global operations i.e. right hand woman. She keeps this ship afloat. In her own words:

I grew up in Connecticut and went to school in Virginia. During a quarter-life crisis at age 21, I chose to finish my last year of college on an adventure in Qatar! From that moment on, my life revolved around traveling cheaply with the money I earned from waitressing. That budget got me to teach English in Isaan, Thailand, and South Korea; farm on St. Vincent and the Grenadines in the Caribbean; and volunteer in rural Zambia. At age 26, I returned home to Connecticut, determined to get a job in travel. Soon after, I met Nomadic Matt at a travel meet-up in NYC, and the rest is history.

I whole-heartedly believe that traveling makes friends of strangers, and the more friends there are in the world, the more peace there is in the world.

13 Facts about Me

At 15, I helped build a schoolhouse in Nicaragua.

Living in a termite clay hut without electricity or running water in Zambia for six months was probably one of the most trying (and simple), exciting (and boring), and perspective-shifting experiences of my life.

I’ve cut off my hair and donated it to Locks of Love, twice!

I once hunted for possums on the island of St. Vincent with a bunch of Rastafarians. We caught four and made soup.

In Costa Rica, I stayed at in a sustainable living community called Rancho Mastatal, where I learned how to farm yuca, make beer out of turmeric, and build a house out of cob.

When I was 15, John Stamos kissed my cheek after I saw him in Cabaret on Broadway.

I taught English in South Korea for 14 months and was able to easily save enough money for 21 months of non-stop travel.

This music video I made used to be one of the top hits when you searched for St. Vincent and the Grenadines.

In Zambia, my friend and I were given a live chicken as a present. We were vegetarians, so we traded it for a pair of second-hand jeans at the market.

I got 19 people (the students and teachers on the FLYTE trip) into an airport lounge for free. I think that’s a travel hacking record!

I’ve attended a Qatari princess’s wedding sporting mink eyelashes.

In Korea, I dated a guy who spoke no English and we basically communicated through drawing pictures and reciting American rap lyrics.

I think Matt spends a majority of his day editing out my exclamation points from my research, emails, newsletters, etc! (Matt says: This is very true.)

Christopher O.

Chris joined the team as the part-time manager of the forums back in 2015. Since then, he’s branched out into the Superstar Blogging program and our soon-to-be-launched community platform, Nomadic Network. In his own words:

I grew up in a small town in Ontario, Canada, and spent my formative years listening to punk rock, reading Star Wars novels, and generally getting up to no good. After ditching my lifelong plan to be a lawyer, I decided to give travel a try. I headed to Costa Rica on a whim and have never looked back! It wasn’t long after that trip that I took a break from university (where I was studying history and theatre) to move to a monastery in Japan in 2007. I’ve more or less been wandering around ever since. Some notable adventures include taking the Trans-Siberian Railway across Russia and Mongolia, walking the Camino de Santiago twice, and going on a 10-day road trip around Iceland with complete strangers. When I’m not traveling, I live in Sweden and can be found reading, writing, or struggling to improve at chess.

13 Facts about Me

I spent nine months living in Buddhist monasteries.

I lived in a tent for a year.

I was once stalked by a jaguar and chased by a crocodile — on the same trip.

I haven’t had alcohol in 13 years.

I’ve broken all my fingers and toes, and my nose three times, and I’ve fractured both my wrists.

I worked on an organic farm for 11 years.

I co-owned a restaurant in Canada.

I grew up next door to Avril Lavigne.

I once ate an entire nine-course meal (I was the only person there to eat everything!).

I played inter-mural Quidditch in high school and was our team’s Seeker.

I have a Star Wars tattoo.

I’ve been vegan for 12 years.

I have a scar from a fight that broke out over which Norse god was “the best.”

Chris R.

Chris, aka The Aussie Nomad, is a (kinda) former blogger who does all the tech and development work for the website. He keeps it running, fixes any errors you find, and deals with my constantly changing design desires. In his own words:

I’m living the good life in Western Australia by the beach with my amazing family. I got into the world of blogging after quitting my job, backpacking around Europe and, as all Aussies do, undertaking a working holiday in the UK. Like all of us who travel and fall in love with it, nobody wants to go home afterwards.

That adventure got me into creating a travel blog many years ago, which is how I first came to know Matt. I have since repurposed my IT skills from my old life and formed my own business to help out other bloggers with their websites.

13 Facts about Me

I love Belgian beer (and I even married a Belgian).

I’ve worked with Matt the longest out of anyone here. (Take that team!)

I took off to backpack Europe when I was 29.

I’m an advocate for Vegemite and believe all visitors to Australia must try this national treasure.

One of my favorite activities is to take a long road trip, especially with family and friends.

I have no idea how four-way stop signals in the U.S.A. don’t all end up as accidents.

I do not drink Fosters. It’s a terrible beer. No one in Australia actually drinks it.

I like to think of myself as an amateur photographer.

I failed kindergarten as I wouldn’t say goodbye to the teacher.

My first job was working in a supermarket.

I can’t sleep on a plane – no matter how long the flight is.

I can name every Thomas the Tank Engine character thanks to my son.

I don’t drink coffee or get people’s love for it. Tea all the way!

Raimee

Raimee is the newest team member and does all our social media. She schedules posts, tweaks my terrible photos so they look good on Instagram, builds our content calendar, and creates all our quote & Pinterest graphics! In her own words:

When I was just 14 years old, I took my first international trip to Honduras and Belize with my family. Ever since then, I’ve been hooked on experiencing new cultures, connecting with people from all walks of life, and learning about myself and the world through the power of travel! After graduating with a degree in advertising and marketing from Michigan State University and four years as a digital marketing specialist, I realized that corporate life was not for me. My insatiable need to experience the world beyond a desk led me to search for a job-related to travel. I’ve followed this blog for many years, and now I get to work for it remotely while I strategize, manage, and report on the social media accounts — and I love every second of it!

13 Facts about Me

I’m obsessed with Harry Potter. I’ve read each book at least 10 times, and, if I told you how many times, I’ve watched each of the movies, you probably wouldn’t believe me.

I once “hung out” with Daniel Radcliffe at a Red Wings game in Detroit, and actually kept my cool the entire time.

Visiting the Harry Potter studio tour in London was one of the best days of my life.

My mom was obsessed with the 80’s horror movie Evil Dead directed by Sam Raimi, so she named me after him.

After having visited about 30 countries, Iceland is still my favorite.

My biggest travel dream is to take a road trip around New Zealand!

The most fun I’ve had on a trip was on my first solo backpacking trip through Europe when I used Couchsurfing.

I used to play the saxophone.

I conquered my fear of heights by jumping off a cliff in Croatia — twice!

I love languages and was close to being fluent in German during college.

I’m terrified of flying.

In another life, I would have been a film director/producer. Maybe some day!

My favorite number is 13.

Nomadic Matt

And, finally, there’s me. You probably know a lot about me after nine and half years of blogging (sometimes I forget how long it’s been), but here’s a quick refresh:

Growing up in Boston, I was never a big traveler. I didn’t take my first trip overseas until 2004. That trip changed my life and opened me up to the possibilities the world had to offer. One year later, I went to Thailand, where I met five backpackers who inspired me to quit my job and travel the world. In 2006, I left for a yearlong backpacking trip — and have been “nomadic” ever since.

13 Facts about Me

I love politics as much as I love travel and will debate for the joy for it.

I love to cook — and I’m kinda good at it too!

When I was in high school, I was my state’s champ in “Magic: the Gathering.” I know — super nerdy, right? It got me a free trip NYC with my friend (who came in number two!).

I always worry about the future and often use my time back home to develop skills needed for the Zombie Apocalypse. Shout-out to my prepper friend Vanessa for teaching me about seeds!

I once met Paul Giamatti on the streets of NYC and he was as grumpy as I imagined.

I am an unabashed Taylor Swift fan and can’t wait for her new album!

Kevin Spacey is my favorite actor, and I’ve seen The Usual Suspects twenty times.

I believe aliens exist. It’s mathematically impossible they don’t.

I’m terrified of flying.

I learned to swing dance so I could throw myself a Gatsby-themed birthday party.

Both sides of my family came through Ellis Island and you can see their names on the wall where they list all the immigrants.

I used to be the head of a program by the Massachusetts Sierra Club that promoted energy efficiency.

I went to college to be a high school history teacher.

***Also, I’d like to acknowledge our part-timers too: Candice, who helps with admin and research; Richard, our fearless copyeditor (whose efforts I often ruin by changing posts last minute); Keith, our design genius; Brice and Julie, our user experience gurus; and Courtney, who keeps our charity, FLYTE, up in the air with her executive directing wizard ways!

So there you have it! The Nomadic Matt team! It’s weird to think this blog I started to simply be online résumé for freelance jobs now requires eleven people to run. I always thought the more systems, automation, products, and passive income I set up, the easier it would be. I could just sit on a beach. But it seems the more we do, the more we create, the more projects I tell the team we’re taking on, the more help we require. I guess that is the nature of the beast but I would have it no other way. I love what we do here. We help a lot of people realize their dreams.

And a guy couldn’t ask for better co-workers to help make that happen.

The post Meet the Team: The Many Faces of Nomadic Matt appeared first on Nomadic Matt's Travel Site.

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fadingfartconnoisseur · 7 years ago