#its sunday and the lords resting so someones gotta do the work

[haahka]

Kinnporsche x textposts pt.3 [more]

[thiswasinevitableid]

if you’re still taking meet ugly asks, could you do 01 or 13 for sternclay? nsfw please

Here you go! I went with 1.

we were set up on a blind date but it went horribly, so now you message me every time you have a good date because you think your tips will help me in the future, you ass.

Bzzbzz

Joseph picks up his phone and regrets it before he’s even done reading the waiting message.

Barclay: See, this is how you dress for a date at a casual place.

It’s accompanied by a photo of a headless torso, sporting a Ramones T-shirt and blue jeans.

He deletes the message. He told that asshole he was in the suit because Hayes kept him late to finish a report and he didn’t want to be any more behind for their date than he already was.

No, you know what, he’s had enough of this.

J.S: He’s dressed like a college student. No one told me you were a cradle robber.

Barclay: Just trying to help you do better next time ;)

This is the same line he gives Joseph every time he sends one of these texts

“It was great, it felt like a real conversation instead of an interrogation.”

“See, what made tonight nice was he didn’t look at his phone even once.”

“Now, what made this nice is that he didn’t mistake another guy for me on the way in.”

He has reasons, explanations, things that could make him look more like a man who had a bad day and less like the poster boy for the horrors of blind dating. But the one time he tried sharing his side of things, Barclay responded that he wasn’t doing this to make sense of their shitty date, but to make it easier on the next guy.

It was the last date in a long line of increasingly desperate attempts by his loved ones to find someone, anyone, for him to be with; being married to his work fills all his needs. Leave it to his older sister to spot that it wasn’t meeting many of his wants.

Joseph tosses the phone away, retrieves his take-out leftovers from the fridge. As he munches reheated green mango chicken, the city heading out into Friday night revelry without him, he decides that while he’s not about to take dating advice from a guy who can’t pull his head out of his ass long enough to consider someone else’s perspective, Barclay makes one good point: there’s always a next time.

And there’s no moment like the present to start planning for it.

--------------------------------------------------------

Barclay cannot figure out why Logan chose this spot; it’s one step above gay cruising club. Not that he hasn’t had fun at those before, but he was hoping for somewhere quieter. Also somewhere with better food; you can tell a lot about a guy by what he orders, and fuck all about him when the only meal to be found is chips or the olive from a martini glass.

Still not the worst date he’s been on.

As Logan steers the conversation in promisingly steamy directions, Barclay glances at the bar and locks eyes with his biggest disappointment of the year. Joseph raises an eyebrow, then his face goes annoyingly neutral as he looks first at Logan and then to the bartender for another glass.

His date excuses himself and Barclay weighs how much of a dick he wants to be against how good Joseph looks tonight. He’s in a v-neck and a short jacket, dark-wash jeans making it easy to picture how satisfying hooking his legs over Barclays shoulders would be.

Barclay sidles up to the bar, leaning on it and smiling at Joseph, “You finally decide to put my advice to good use?”

“No.” Joseph replies, tarter than a cherry, and goes back to looking at his phone.

“Suit yourself, and have fun going home alone.”

The black-haired man squares his shoulders, turns so that Barclay gets a full-on view of a stunning face and sharp, blue eyes, “At least I won’t be going home with someone who’s using me for a prank video.”

“Pfft, whatever man, you’re just-” Barclay snaps his mouth shut as Joseph turns his phone, showing a Youtube channel hosted by none other than Logan.

“His modus operandi is to have viewers vote on which gay man he should go out with and string along the whole night until he reveals he’s straight.”

“I, I uh, that’s” his heart is in his shoes, “that’s not very nice.”

“That’s not all. There are three cameras recording your date.” Joseph points to three separate guys, “they’re using their phones, makes it hard to prove they’re not just texting or something else innocuous.”

He might cry. Worse, if he cries, he might owe Joseph an explanation.

“There you are baby, thought you’d run off.” Logan sets a hand on his arm and Barclay freezes, trying to work out a non-humiliating form of escape.

Joseph clears his throat, “Are you aware that recording people without their permission is illegal in this state?”

“Uh, no, but what the fuck does that have to do with me?”

“You, and those three gentleman you’re having film Mr. Cobb here, are all at risk of being charged with a misdemeanor.” Joseph’s voice is smooth and clear, utterly in control, and Barclay gets goosebumps as he pulls out his wallet and flashes an FBI badge, “I suggest you get out of here before you do something you regret.”

The quartet disappears in a cloud of body spray as Barclay slumps onto a stool and Joseph orders two more drinks, sliding one his way. Whiskey Soda, his favorite. He’d ordered it during their date.

They sip in silence for three songs before Joseph says, “I guess I passed the dubious honor of your worst date onto someone else.”

“You’re still a strong runner up.” It’s mean, but Barclay isn’t feeling very chipper right now.

“Oh come on, I wasn’t that bad! I was trying to learn as much about you as I could while switching from work mode to a date.”

“You made me feel like I was doing all the work!”

“If you’d given me more than a half hour of your time I could have fixed that.”

“Nah, I know when a date is doomed. No point in dragging it out. It wasn’t going to be fun.”

“I can be fun!” Joseph knocks back the rest of his drink, “I’ll prove it.”

Barclay snorts, “how?”

“I want a do over. Right now.” Lights dance across his skin and Barclay gets a whiff of gin and mint as he leans so they’re almost nose to nose, “Unless you’re afraid you’ll be the dud this time.”

“You’re on.” Barclay growls, “but don’t get your hopes up.”

------------------------------------------------

Either his pillow sprouted fur overnight, or Joseph isn’t where he should be.

He cracks his eyes open, squinting in the muted, grey light sneaking in under the curtains. The room, while tidy, isn’t his, and the clock on the wall tells him he’s starting his Saturday out with oversleeping.

Barclay is sound asleep beside him, his broad, hairy chest rising and falling soothingly. A cursory peek under the blankets shows he’s a naked as Joseph is. As the agent slips from the bed and hunts down his clothes, he starts to remember why.

They’d done something in the club bathroom, a blow-job, that’s right, and the instant Barclay dragged him into his apartment Joseph shoved him onto the bed, yanked his pants off, and returned the favor. He remembers, as he surrenders to going commando rather than wear his pre-cum stained boxer briefs, wanting to sleep with his head on Barclay’s stomach, cum still on his lips, but the cook made a very convincing argument to come up and kiss him instead.

His pants are back on when his phone lights up from it’s spot on the floor.

Alert: Snowstorm predicted to last until 5 pm Sunday. Travel limited, recommended for emergencies only. At least five feet of snow predicted.

“Shit” he whispers, pushing the curtain aside to discover a world of smooth, white roof tops and impassable streets.

Jinglejingle

He spins, startled, as what he thought was a black pillow shakes out it’s ears and rises from a cushion at the foot of the bed. It’s the single most absurd dog he’s ever seen, like someone smushed a corgi and a Rottweiler together. It blinks at him, cocks it’s head, and then shifts its attention to the bed.

“Please don’t jump.” Maybe he can still sneak out on foot, or find somewhere else to wait out the storm.

The dog launches it’s tubular body onto Barclay, who “oofs” and is laughing before he even opens his eyes.

“Hey boy, yeah, I know, I know, didn’t let you in until way after bedtime.” The cooks deep voice is scratchy with sleep. The dog wiggles and digs at the blankets on his chest as he turns his head, smiling Joseph’s way, “morning babe.”

“Good morning.” Throwing himself out the window would result in hypothermia. Also a broken ankle. So no luck there.

Barclay notices his jeans, “Oh, uh, if you need to go that’s cool. I, uh” he yawns “I have a policy of making breakfast after a hook-up, but if you’re in a hurry I can just get you some coffee for the road. C’mon Sass, let me up.”

“I, um, I can stay. I don’t have much choice.”

“What do you--oh fuck, I knew we were getting snow this weekend but no one said anything about a fucking blizzard. Guess you’re crashing here for the weekend.”

“I guess so.”

Barclay’s smile shrinks, “Is that a shitty outcome?”

“No! Or, um, I just” Joseph sits on the bed, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t want to impose. I was trying to get out of here so I wouldn’t make things awkward since I, um, I don’t do this much.”

“Gotta say that was kinda obvious.” It’s a gentle tease, Barclay’s fingers flipping through his phone, “huh, when did I take a video last night?”

“I think you--oh, oh my lord.” Joseph claps his hands over his mouth, blushing at the memory.

“What, did I talk you into karaoke or somethi--holy fuck.” Barclay scoots to where Joseph is frozen, holding the screen where they can both see it. The same face growing excited beside him is looking up at the camera, lips wrapped around Joseph’s cock as a voice urges him on.

“You like that, big guy?”

Barclay nods, pulls off so he can drag his tongue up the shaft with a grin. Then he swallows it almost to the base, Joseph’s hand flying past the lens to stifle a moan.

“That’s it, show me how much you like it, s-so the next time you feel like sending me a snarky text you can watch this and remember just how much fucking fun you had sucking my dickAH.” A laugh as Barclay sits back on his heels, pulling off the condom.

“C’mon blue eyes, bet, bet you’re gonna look great when you cum, fuck, think I ruined these pants just watching you. Heh, you like that, like getting me hard and wet on the fucking bathroom floor.”

“Usually it’s, it’s the other waAAaay aroundohfuck, shit.” Cum spatters across Barclay’s face. The cook licks his lips, still smiling, as the camera sinks to his level, Joseph giggling behind it, “here, let, let me clean you up.”

“Don’t want everyone else to see your cum all over me?"

“Nngn. I, I mean no, not in actuality.” Joseph’s hand returns to the frame, gently cleaning Barclay’s cheek with toilet paper.

The video ends there. Joseph is red from his hips to his cheeks, but not so embarrassed that he misses Barclay rubbing his thighs together. Then the cook meets his eyes and sets the phone aside.

“I can delete it. Know your face isn’t in it but if you’re more comfortable with it gone, it’s gone.”

The offer alone calms him, “No, no it’s okay. Thank you for offering. I, um, since I’ll be here awhile, can I use your shower?”

“Sure, it’s just through there.” He tips his head at the door in the left wall, grabbing a robe from the door and heading into the chilly apartment, Sass clickclick-ing on the hardwood after him.

As always, the world is more manageable when he’s clean. A pair of sweatpants and a thick, blue sweater are waiting for him on the bed, and coffee-swirled air coaxes him into the kitchen. It’s small but immaculately organized, Barclay moving from stove to cabinet to fridge and back again in an intimate dance.

“Coffee on the left is yours. I’m doing pancetta in the omelettes; most of my friends are vegetarian so I never get a chance to bust it out.”

“That sounds delicious.” He picks up the mug, sighs as warms his chest, “mmm, you have real cream somewhere in this house.”

“Yep. Remember you said you liked the real stuff when you could get it. I drink mine black, but really these beans demand cream instead of milk; sets of the chocolate notes really nice.”

“I can never taste those. Same thing with wine. But I guess that’s why you’re the professional and I’m not.”

“That’s more a happy coincidence. I got into this to help with the bills when I was in high school. I wasn’t, like, combining flavors and deciding to be a cook like in Ratatouille or something.”

“That’s a Pixar movie, right?”

“Only the best one ever made. Have you really not seen it?

“I, um, I only watch kids movies if I’m babysitting my niece. Which doesn’t happen as often as I’d like.”

“Well, now I know what we’re doing after breakfast. Ah ah, Sass, not for you.” He shoos the dog from where it’s valiantly trying to double in length to reach the table.

“Is his name short for something?”

“Sasquatch.”

“Awwww.” Joseph crouches down to scritch behind one, floppy ear.

“His whole litter was named for cryptids; Nessie, Champ, Yeti, stuff like that.”

“‘Bray’ feels like an obvious one.” He smiles, then remembers not everyone is a nerdy UP agent, “sorry, never mind.”

“Uh uh special agent, I’ve been waiting to ask you about this. You don’t get to say you’re ‘like Fox Mulder’ and then not share more.” Barclay pulls out his chair, kisses his head when he sits down. He then listens to Joseph expound on canine cryptids of the midwest for fifteen minutes, fascinated the entire time.

“Y’know, I had a line cook who swore he’d been abducted by aliens.”

“What was his proof?”

By the time their plates are clean, Joseph has generated three alternative explanations and Barclay is staring at him with an expression straight from a rom-com. The cook sets up the movie while Joseph does the dishes, then pulls him under a mound of blankets.

“The heat in this place is shit, but I promise I’ll keep you warm.”

He enjoys the movie plenty, the weight of Barclay’s arm over his shoulder and, eventually, his waist, even more. They watch Ramen Girl for the hell of it, spooning on the couch while the snow makes dunes out of the sidewalk.

When the second movie is done, Joseph rolls so he’s facing the cook, “What should we do now?”

“Could keep watching movies, or bake something. I’ve got some cards and a few games in the closet. Or we could just cuddle and talk. I’m good with whatever.”

“...Could I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“You’ve been so sweet all day. Why were you such an ass about our first date?”

Barclay shifts, discomfort entering his eyes, “I was having a shitty week and was hoping the date would make me feel better. I ended up so anxious after it, felt like you wanted to be somewhere else, that I kinda took my frustration out by being a dick. I’m sorry. I, um, I wasn’t even on that many dates between now and then; I’d just text you what I’d wished had happened to fuck with you.”

“I should’ve known it; no one has that many good dates in a row.”

“Sorry.”

Joseph cups his cheek, “And I’m sorry for making you feel that way the first time. I had my reasons but, well, you still had a bad time because I was flustered and couldn’t get my mind off work.”

“Think you’ve more than made up for it.”

“Can I try again anyway?” Joseph kisses him, slipping his fingers under the waistband of his sweats.

Barclay’s lips curve up, “Bedroom?”

“Bedroom.”

Once Barclay is comfortably naked atop the blankets (space heater pointed at the bed all the while), Joseph asks if he has any condoms.

“Yeah, bathroom cabinet. But I’m not, uh, I don’t-”

“It’s not for penetration. You said last night that was a no for you.” In the reflection of the bathroom mirror, he watches him relax. If he ever finds out someone saw the tension in those muscles, heard the worry in that sweet, deep voice and pushed anyway, he’s going to set them on fire with his mind.

Barclay nestles his cheek on his pillow as Joseph fishes his swiss army knife from his jacket, puts his ass in the air and wiggles it expectantly as Joseph unrolls the cut latex.

“Is this okay?”

“Uh huh, I really love it when guys do this but, uh, it doesn’t happen much. The hair turns a lot of them off.”

“Cowards.” Joseph holds the makeshift dam in place. Barclay’s chuckle morphs into a moan as he presses his face between his asscheeks, tongue making an obscene sound against the latex. There’s a warmth to this angle that he loves, a tender sort of filthiness to the way Barclay pushes his ass back with little gasps of his name.

He doesn’t get to practice his technique often, but that makes it all the more pleasurable to re-acquaint himself with it now, find the ways of pressing and curving his tongue that make Barclay’s ass tense under his hands.

“Fuck, fuck, Joseph, I take it all back, every rude text, you’re gonna drive every date you get crazy, gonna make them wonder how they got so lucky to get someone so goddamn wild.”

“I don’t think I will. I think” Joseph kisses the small of his back, “I think it’s you. You bring it out in me, you make me want to do all the things I’d be ashamed to ask for the rest of the time.”

Barclay whimpers happily.

“I’m serious. There’s something about you, I feel like I can want what I want without shame.” He nips his right cheek once, gently, “or maybe it’s just that what I really want is you and everything else finds into line because of it.”

“Fuuuck, baby, please.” Barclays weight shifts as Joseph eats him out ever more messily, “wanna, wanna make you feel good.” He’s rubbing his dick, Joseph can tell by the sound.

“May I?”

“Uhhuh, fuck, c’mere” Barclay grabs him as soon as they’re both sitting up, “was gonna pound you into next week but I dont wanna waste time with the harness right now.”

“Then we can do that tomorrowAH, ohlord” his hand stutters on it’s way to Barclay’s cock as calloused fingers circle is dick, “god there is not a part of you that disappoints, you’re just a wet dream from top to bottom.”

“Aw, babe.” Barclay kisses his shoulder, groaning as Joseph thumbs his dick, “fuck, speaking of, you gonna tell me what you meant in the stall last night? About things being ‘the other way around.”

Now it’s his turn to hide his face, “Promise you won’t think I’m dirty?”

“Babe, your mouth was on my ass a minute ago. You’re dirty and I fucking love it.”

“I, um, I, when I travel for missions I look for, for places that have glory holes.”

“Oh fuck” Barclay ruts against his palm, “that’s a fucking amazing image blue eyes. You on your knees, trying to keep that fucking suit clean while a fucking parade of guys shove their dicks down your throat.”

“I, it’s an easy way for me to get off, I can edge myself until I’m done and then cum without anyone being the wise but, god, half the time I’d think about this, want this.” He speeds up his strokes, pumps his cock into Barclay’s fist.

“What, a hairy trans guy?” Barclay bumps their noses together.

“This” his free hand glides along Barclays arm where it’s holding him, “s-someone to see me, hold onto me, fuck the whole of me and not just the acceptable, easy part. But” he meets brown eyes, teases slick skin, “I, the other times I fucked someone like this it, it was like I was still in that fucking stall. Last night, today, I’m here, I want to be and I am.”

“Baby.” The word comes in a sweet rumble of understanding just as Joseph cums with a gasp. He holds on for dear life as Barclay joins their hands and guides his fingers along his dick, forces his mind to memorize the movements and shapes for next time.

Barclay cums with a groan, flinging his hands up to cup Joseph's head and kiss him. There’s cum on his arm, on Joseph’s fingers and now in his hair and he cannot bring himself to give a shit. Gradually the kisses trail to his cheeks, his neck, his collarbone, and then Barclay is nestling his head under his chin.

“I, um, I think it might have been a good thing. That first date. I can be overly focused on work, can forget to turn off the special agent questioning mode and just talk like a person. I’m glad you saw those parts of me and, um, and decided to give me another chance.”

“Hey, you saw that I could be kinda sensitive and stubborn when I think someone did something wrong and you still saved my ass from being humiliated on the internet.” Barclay sighs as Joseph pets his hair.

“Do you, um, want to keep getting to know each other? Good parts and bad?”

Barclay looks up at him. Sees him.

“Yeah, blue eyes, I do.”

[its-3am-sadness]

getting lost up in the past— this is what I found

Friday February 1st, 2013:

ugh..im sitting in third hour..i wanna cry, but i cant theres to many people..

can anyone really save me? ..no.. noone ever can.. i just wanna be happy, truely always happy.. )': ughhhhhhhhhhhh! i gotta go..

Monday February 4th, 2013:

holy shit that was a longg weekend.. i almost cut saturday.. i got a new razor & everythingg.. Jake told me to go chuck itt in the snow, soo i did, but then on sunday i went & found itt.. soo i have itt in my ipod case like my other one.

I stayed up till 3 saturday nightt watching 'Enchanted' i love that movie now (: and i sent Jake a 7 and a 9 page text.. he was asleep though..but his best friend is a girl & i have nothing at all against that, i don't have a reason to hate her at all, i havent even met her, but i still am so super jealous.. i hate that they hang out and slepover together and i dont know, i trust him.. but look what happend with the last guy, i trusted him with all my heart, i never thought he would cheat on me and he ended up fucking his ex-girlfriend and lying about it.. im so scared.. i dont wanna be here.. i was thinking saturday & yesterday how i wish i was single just so i don't have to be so paranoid..but i love being around Jake that i wouldnt dream of ending it..

Shawntay said i should tell him about how i feel with him & his besty, but i idont wanna be the dumb bitchy girlfriend who is all 'you cant talk to girls-blahh blahh blahhk' shitt, ya know?? So ima just leave it to myself because i don't care..

im really trying not to cut.. Tabby (my ex's girlfriend) told me that it takes 21 days to break a habbit & we both last cut on the 22nd, soooo we'll see how that goes..

on wednesday it'll be me & jake's 4 months.. & next thursday is valenitines (how ever you spell itt) day and i wanna get him something.. hmm..

my tits now have names.. right one is Adam & the left is Ryder (:

I love him, my baby. <3 soo much.. </3

Wednesday February 6th, 2013:

today is 4 months with my baby!! i love him sooo much. dude. <3 he is so amazingg. i just want to push him in the snow and kiss him and be crazy. i am crazy about him.. like super crazy aboutt him. <3 i dont wantt him to be taken awayyy! ):

Hunter said he was going to ask me out last week on friday on the bus.. god he's a douche.. he broke my heart so many countless times and just left.. and my ex. my good lord, he is such a dick. im sick of them both fucking with my head and heart. ive moved on and it Shawntay's words 'have a new life with a better guy'.. god i love her. i dont know where i would be right now if it werent for her.. <3 i love you shawny'z forever <3

Friday February 8th, 2013:

well..i almost cut last nightt, i didnt but i was aboutt to.. im not taking my meds, im just throwing them in a bag & ima sell them.. they weren't working anyway soo..

Im seriously so sccared that Jake's going to leave me.. even though he says he's not going to an yada yada yada, but still.. im paranoid.. it's just who i am... i love him with all my heart though.. ya know??

im diguesting..im a whore..a damn slut.. in love with a guy who prolly cant stand me.. im fucking pathetic.. why..why..why would, HOW could anyone like me, or put up with me.. i mean, what the hell..im a little ugly bitch. a fat, pathetic, stupid, idiotic, loud, sluty little damn bitch...fuckkkkkkkk.

fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.

fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuckfuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.

fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.

fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.

fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.

fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuckfuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.

fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.

fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.

fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.

fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuckfuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.

fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.

fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.

fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.

fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuckfuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.

fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.

fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.fuck.

Monday February 11th,2013:

well..i hate myself. terribly. fucking. little. cunt. thats what i am. a fucking bitch. a pussy, more like a pair of balls.. pussy's are actually quite strong.. so im a pair of balls. GROSS!.. i like pussy better.. whatever. so anyway.. i hate how much of a bitch i am. im so mean to everyone. im not good enough for shawntay. i dont deserve jake and i feel like i treat both of them like shit.. i dont mean to. they're both my whole world..damn.. i couldnt live with out both of them.. i really couldnt.

Conversation on Saturday Night:

me: how isn't it? if you go then you wont have to worry about me.

Jake: ill worry more

me:no

Jake: yeah i will

Me:no

Jake: why cant i?

me: Because..you just cant. you shouldnt. its not worth it.Never. You should leave before you get hurt.

Jake: this isnt about right now anymore is it?

me: i guess not..

Jake: cause ive told you before im not leaving unless you stop loving me ima be here for you until you dont want me to and ima be with you till you break up with me, i love you and im gonna stay through thick and thin. you wont hurt me. You wont.

Baby i friken love you and i wanna be with you no matter what im yous i dont want anyone else but you and im gonna stay okay?

Me: i hurt everyone. i want to be with you. i am in love with you. but i am so hard and difficult. i push every single person away because i just tear people down. i dont want to do that. You are so amazing and that cant die.

how can i call that mine? that is a way to good for me kindda guy.. ive fallen in love with him. but he is way to good for me.

Tuesday February 12, 2013:

i almost cut last night.. i lost it and i started crying terribly. my mother is such a damn bitch. i cant handle her anymore.. she's having surgary on the 25th of this month.. but shes forcing me to appologise for being 'rude' to my brothers wife.. fuck that.. she told me i didnt appriciate anyone.. you dont tell someone who hates themself, who seriously cant stand to look at herself or hear herself, you DONT TELL THEM THAT THEYRE NOT FUCKING APPRICATIVE! what the hell.. so i have anger issues so i flipped out, not to her, just annonmusly over facebook & shes not even my friend on there so fuck her. seriously. and my mother is sticking up for HER, an not ME. bitch.. i have enough shit i dont need to deal with this, its from over a month ago.. i hate my mother.. she fucking came running downstairs screaming at me for taking something that i really didnt.. i didnt even know what she was talking about.. why... im always to blame. FUCK HER! god... she makes me want to kill myself. she thinks that i look up to her and that she's this perfect little angel and does everything for me.. but all she does is make me feel like shit.. i mean we have our moments that we get along an laugh an are friends. when we're friends we're totally fine, but than she turns in to over protective bitch mode.. i hate itt.. i dont wanna stay after school to get extra help.. and shes fucking making me. i hate it. i hate her. i want to get the fuck away. HELP ME! i need to be saved.

Wednesday February 13th, 2013:

theres not a lot of time to write here today...i only got about 3 minutes.. but damn.. i wanna die.. im not going to stopo myself tonight if i wanna cut. i gotta do it.. its to hard. my parents and my one brother are douches..they fucking dont know when to stop making me feel like shit.. i hate it. goddamn.. i cried so much last night.. i wish i were alone.. it'd be easier not to worry about hurting someone.. i hate myself. im absolutly disguesting. fat, ugly and just so gross.. i hate what ive become.. i cant stop myself. it's who i am now..

my razors fell out of my case this morning, it was scary i thought that someone was going to ask me what they were when i bent to pick them up.. i was so shakey.. i hate myself. ughhh. fuck. i hate everyone, my self the absolute most though.. good bye..

Thursday Febraury 14th, 2013:

well.. i stopped the 21 days last night.. 16.. 2 on my thigh, they're small. and the rest between my two arms. im such a fail..

Jake did the cutest thing ever.. he put a bunch of choclate kisses in my locker & taped it saying 'i <3 u' i keep blushing today.. i just told someone i like they're hat & he said he liked my face, i blush to much, i dont like him even, but it was kindda a compliment, soo.. *sigh* i hope shawntay doesnt get mad at me.. i told her i cut in our notebook, i havent told jake & im nott gunna unless he asks.. i cant tell him.. i HATE THAT THEY CARE!!!!!!!!! ugh... i just hurt eveyrone.. i make everyone want to kill themselves.......... FUCK.

ive been handing outt 'my little pony' valentines today.. only 4 gurls, and like 15 or more guys.. the girls are Shawntay, my friend Kenzie, Tabby & Heather. God.. all of them are so FUCKING gorgeous..ugh.. i seriously wish i could be even half as pretty as them.. Shawntay, everything about her is perfect, i wouldnt change a thing. Perfect long hair, flawless skin, perfect body.. McKenzie, she's in love, happy, so beautiful. Tabby, SO gorgeous, i find her easy to talk to and i think we could be pretty good friends. i love her hair.. i want it terribly. and Heather, her makeup, my lord is it always so damn perfect. no flaws to it, always perfect all the damn day long. She may be a bitch sometimes, but she's also hillarious as fuck. i could see me an her being better friends then we are, but not anything long-best friend. but damn.. i wish i were them..

Friday February 15th, 2013:

last night i broke down terribly and cried for hours.. i could stop. my douche fuck parents.. goddamn.. i wish i could just love them and call it good. but my mom comes down and bitches about facebook.. so now i have to delete it.. god. she controls every damn thing of my life.. she doesnt even know what tumblr is or instagram & she fucking wants me to delete them. HELL TO THE FUCK NO! dumbass. i hate her.. she ruins my life..

Tuesday February 19th, 2013:

okay..well this is reallly really stupid.. but on friday, i realized that with my ex boyfriend, he fucked her while we were together & i had sex with him countless times after.. so now i obviously did something wrong. it showed me how worthless i am & how much i seriously fuck people up..it's all my fault. i loved him wrong. i treated him like shit and look where that's gotten me.. im such a pathetic fucking fail of life. i hate myself.. im used and worthless. im the damn slut of the fucking family for fuck's sake!! my oldest brother just got married & the other just got engaged.. ugh..

ive been starving myself latley too.. it's kinda hard because i love eating, but ive been not eating lunch for about a week & i rarley eat at home soo..

[sgtjaamesbaarnes]

Caught in the Crossfire [Chapter 2]

Pairing: Detective!Bucky x Mobster!Reader

Summary: Throughout his life, Bucky was always certain of three things; Steve would always have his back, never miss Sunday dinner, and live by the law, at all costs. Until he meets a girl with Louboutin’s and a berretta on her thigh. Will he be able to ignore who she really is? Or will be lose the girl that shows him what it means to truly live?

Word count: 1.6k

Warning: language, violence, sexual and adult themes, 18+

A/N: Taglist is open. Let me know if you want to be added! 

Catch up here!

Alarms going off is never a good thing, especially when they come from the kitchen. Bucky scrambled, trying the grab the mitts from the counter and opened the oven door as smoke spewed out.

“Fuck!” He shouted as the smoke found its way into his lungs, causing him to cough out.

“Woah, language.” A voice called as the front door opened and two pairs of feet came running into his apartment.

“Uncle Bucky!” The little one ran and jumped onto his back as he threw the now burnt pan on the stove top.

“Hey, Jamie. Be careful, it’s hot.” He pulled the little boy off his back and in his arms so he could kiss his cheek.

“Don’t worry, I’m a big kid. I can take care of myself.” The four-year-old was always so sure of himself.

“Yeah I’m sure kid. Hey sis.” He turned to the woman who had entered with the little boy.

“I see your cooking has improved slightly. You at least made it to the oven.” The woman chuckled.

“Thanks, Becs. Always so charming.” Bucky rolled his eyes at his sister.

“Don’t worry. I made two sides. Don’t want Sam giving you hell again now do we.” Becca smiled at her big brother.

“Again, you are my lifesaver.” He rocked the kid in his arms.

“Someone’s gotta look after you. Even after 35 years you still don’t know how cook a damn thing. No matter how hard mom tried to teach you.” She set her bag down on the counter. “You ready little nugget?”

“Yeah! Aunt Tasha was going to teach me how to make spaghetti!” Jamie jumped out of his uncle’s arms and ran towards the door.

“Oh great. Let’s hope Aunt Sharon helps her with it. Tasha doesn’t know much about spices and flavoring.” Bucky makes a face at Becca before grabbing the bags and leading the two out of the apartment.

The subway ride to the other side of Brooklyn didn’t take long but with an anxious four-year-old Bucky and Becca had to keep their heads on a swivel. Jamie ran a little ahead of the two adults, kicking rocks along the sidewalk.

“Jamie, stay close please baby. Don’t get too far ahead of us.” Becca called to her son.

“Yes mom.” The little boy called back as he kicks another rock.

“He’s getting too big.” Bucky comments while watching the little boy.

“He’ll be five in a few months. It’s crazy to think I have a five-year-old.” Her steps fall in line with her brother’s.

“Eh, he’s a good kid. A little bit of trouble, but a good heart.” Bucky stuffed his free hand into his pocket as Becca looked over at him and smiled.

“Sounds like someone else I know.” The three turned the corner to the street where Natasha and Sharon lived.

“Is that the trouble maker I hear?” A voice called down the street.

“Uncle Sammy!” Jamie took off running towards the voice.

“Hey, be careful! Watch for cars!” Bucky called after his nephew but the warnings went unnoticed and the little boy jumped into Sam’s arms.

“At least he’s watched over. I have to remember that sometimes.” Becca smiles and up to Sam to greet him before moving into the house.

“I see you didn’t forget this time.” Sam hackles him.

“Nope. I told you, it was a one-off thing.” Bucky smiled at his partner and good friend.

“Yeah one off that’s happened about ten times.” Sam smirks then moves into the house, Jamie still in his arms and Bucky on his tail.

The house was warm and inviting, no doubt due to Sharon more than Natasha. Ever since Nat came back from her third tour she wasn’t the same, but that didn’t make them love her any less. And Sharon was there to warm the harden soldier’s heart.

“Auntie Nat, can you teach me now?” The four-year-old looked over at the red head.

“Oh well of course little squirt. Come over here. Sharon can you grab him the stool?” Nat stool in front of the counter, ingredients all out ready to be mixed.

“Sure, thing babe.” Sharon leaned over and kissed her cheek then moved to the hall closet to grab the stool. “Don’t worry. I gathered the ingredients. It’ll taste just fine.” She winked at the two men standing in the hallway then put the stool down for Jamie.

Bucky smiled back at the three of them in the kitchen before moving to the back yard. He smiled as the smell of beer and cigars filled his lungs. Looking over at the group of people that had become his family, he couldn’t help but feel blessed. Becca had moved to stand by Clint and Laura as Wanda slid over on the bench, making room for her. Tony was arguing with Rodey about some new technique they had learned on DNA analysis and if it was more effective than the old way as Tony’s wife Pepper rolled her eyes and held their little girl, Morgan. Thor sat with his brother, Loki.

He remembered the long debate they had all had about inviting Loki to Sunday Dinner. An ex- con who had, at some point or another, been on the other side of the interrogation table as Bucky, it was hard for some members to agree to letting him in. After hours of pleading and finally an acceptance from Bucky, the rest of the team agreed to let him try it out. That was three years ago and every Sunday Loki sat next to his brother and kept to himself. Bucky looked at him and saw the change in him from his times as a dealer. He just hoped the other members of their group could see how far he had come.

Then there was Steve, his best friend, Captain and surrogate brother to him and Becca. They had all three grown up together. When his family had moved to Brooklyn from Indiana when Bucky was seven and Becca was six, Steve was the first friend either of them had made. And they never looked back.

“Come on man, let’s go have a drink.” Sam was up to him and hands him a beer. Bucky smiles and walks over to the group.

The adults all sat at the table, plates empty and bellies full. The two kids lay on the couch, passed out form the carbs and running around with each other.

“I’m never going to eat again.” Wanda grumbled as she rubbed her stomach.

“Speak for yourself, I could have another helping myself.” Thor smirked over at her.

“There’s plenty left. Help yourself or you’re all getting it for lunches this week.” Sharon sat back in her chair with her arm draped around the back of Natasha’s chair.

“It was delicious. Thank you for the food.” Becca smiled at the two.

“That would be thanks to Sharon.” Bucky smirks before Natasha kicks him under the table.

“Remember Barnes, I know how to hurt you.” Nat smirks at him and he waves her off.

“Speaking of next week, we all need to get ready for the-“ Steve stands up to talk before he’s cut off from the moans and grumbles.

“Come on man, we agreed. No work talk on Sunday dinner.” Sam looked up at him.

“Seriously Rogers, you do it again and we’re going to a nice restaurant next Sunday and you’re paying.” Tony picks up his wine to finish it.

“And we don’t go easy on appetizers.” Rodey chimed in.

“Ok ok, fine. But tomorrow morning you all better be in my office at 0800 sharp.” Steve tried to show his authority again.

“Aye aye Captain.” Sharon smirked and the group broke out in snickers and giggles.

Bucky looked around at his surrogate family, the only family he had left. Lord only knows what he’d do if anything happened to them.

You stood at the window overlooking the loading of the trucks. The tablet in your hand read the schematics for the run. Quick and easy. Sunday nights were the best nights for the runs. Law enforcement was usually thinnest on those nights.

The last truck was loaded and the route solidified. Two trucks would take the eastbound highway and the others would go north. All the drivers were briefed and waiting for your signal.

“They’re waiting for you.” Brock walked up to you, arms crossed and gun ready on his hip. You look at him and then back at the tablet.

“Everything checked and weighed?”

“Down to the ounce. We should have the profit numbers once we get it to the distributers, but street value is running about $300 a gram.” Brock replied.

“That should put us finally in competition with the others. Thank you, Rumlow. Get the shipment out and report back to Sitwell. See what he can do about making it more… desired in the community.” He smirks and nods.

“That I can do.”

“Let’s roll out. Product needs to be ready for distribution tomorrow morning. The dealers need their stock as fast as they can.” You handed him the tablet.

“As you wish, ma’am.” He smirked and walked out to the trucks.

“Hydra, roll out!” He called out and jumped on his bike, leading the group out to the streets of New York.

Tag List: @calspixie @chipilerendi @nykole5

[queen-ofsunflowers]

Queen Plays KH3 Pt. 3

TIME PLAYED: 28 hrs, 4 min.

CURRENT LEVEL: 40

DEATH COUNTER: 32

WORLDS COMPLETED:

Olympus

Twilight Town

Toy Box

Kingdom of Corona

Monstropolis

100 Acre Wood

Arendelle

The Carribean

San Fransokyo

The Final World

The rest is under the cut to avoid spoilers. Read at your own risk... though most of it is just keysmashin at the end.

Starting off with the Caribbean. And I like Jack, I really do. But I wanna smack him, he's such a jerk. And I think we died? We fell off the edge of the world and now Elizabeth is saying we ending up in Davy Jones's Locker. Great, but I'VE DIED 14 TIMES AT THIS POINT. It's just funny to me.

Should be noted I've never seen Pirates of the Caribbean. So I'm a little lost on all this.

Sora has a lil crown on his hat I love it.

Jack is a jerk to Will and Elizabeth. After KH2, I do not trust Barbossa. At all.

Something tells me I'm gonna fail A LOT at the ship driving thing.

Sora ain't afraid of no Kraken. He's faced worse. A lil Kraken ain't anything.

Vexen creeps me out a little right now. And what did Xemnas tell Luxord? Must have been something because I feel something is off. Anyway, there must be a reason Vexen wants to finish his work so bad. I wanna know it. I NEED TO KNOW IT.

It's so weird seeing Sora without gloves on. He has nice hands.

SORA BEING SO BADASS. JUST FLOWMOTIONING ON THE SMOKE AND RIDING THE HEARTLESS. SO CINMEATICALLY BEAUTIFUL.

I DIED THREE TIMES IN THAT BATTLE. THREE. TIMES.

And then Sora went splat.

Is that what Tia Dalma said to Sora? What is she talking about? Free her from what? Eh. We'll find out.

Something tells me, when Sora was a kid... he wanted to be a pirate. Very badly.

Jack may be a jerk, but he's a jerk who's not gonna leave a kid in a cavern.

Luxord calling parley and I'm like "not this shit again"

Jack Sparrow is such a DUMBASS.

Technically, Sora drives the Gummi Ship. He's the captain of it then, right?

Wait what. WAIT WHAT. OH MY GOD CRAB JACK EXPLODED.

The graphics in this world are so GOOD OH MY GOSH

IS ELIZABETH THE PIRATE KING? QUEEN? ... I need to watch these movies now.

When an encounter is cut off by a cutscene. Also, WTF is up with the way Sora pronounced Luxord? Like... "luke sword" is that how you're supposed to say it? I don't remember. I'm gonna continue to say Lux-ord. Say it like how spelled.

DEATH COUNT KEEPS GETTING HIGHER WITH THIS FIGHT. I'M UP TO 19. I'm gonna look up a walkthrough to help, hold on-- I gotta level up this fucking ship before I go any further. I don't want to die a bunch. Putting the story on hold for now. Gotta find crabs. That sounds so weird to say.

I love how the sounds underwater are muffled. It's a nice detail.

THIS BATTLE MAY COUNT FOR HALF OF MY DEATHS (27 so far) BUT I FINALLY BEAT THAT PIRATE GAMBLER WANNABE. OH SWEET LORD YES.

So Will and Co. Ddd our job for us. Or did they? Tia Dalma/Calypso... can she help us? She's a prisoner. But Sora's giving a protagonist speech, so I'm not complaining.

Sora joining in Elizabeth's speech, like... do you even know what "hoist the colors" means boy?!

The Organization are looking for hope. I can see the gears turning in Sora's head. Maybe they aren't so bad after all? Hmm.

"Then I invoke the right of parle--" Jack just comes up to Luxord, puts a finger to his mouth. Like... "No. No parley." Bitch finally learned.

RIP Luxord. Also, something tells me he was pirate before becoming a Nobody. I don't know, just a hunch.

Sora probably knows more about the heart than others. And Jack and I can agree on something.

Jones, stabs Will. SORA LITERALLY LOSES HIS SHIT AND TACKLES THE SQUIDMAN LIKE... YES BUT NO. RIP DAVY JONES. But seriously. THIS SCENE IS SO SAD OH MY GOD WYF JUST HAPPENED!? CAN SOMEONE EXPLAIN?!

WTF WILL?! HOW IS HE ALIVE?! Wait... And thank you for explaining it right after I figured it out.

Jack is a major mood right now.

MY SHIP WAS JUST A BUNCH OF FUCKING CRABS.

Back with our redheads, Axel's having emotional problems. Talk about them man. Just talk.

LEA REMEMBERS VENTUS. HE REMEMBERS VEN.

I REMMEMVER THIS PART FROM THE TRAILER. NO, MICKEY. SAVE HIM RIKU.

Cut to Ansem the wise, and Ansem SOB

YAS KIDS YAS. I LOVE HAYNER PENCE AND OLETTE RIGHT NIW. THESE KIDS OH MY GOSH.

Why did the Nobody protect him?!WHAT IS GOING ON?!

VEXEN GET OUT.

Wait what?! Um... WHAT?! AND THE SCENE CUTS OFF THERE LIKE WTF. IS HE A SPY?! IS EVEN JUST PLAYING VEXEN WTF?!

I love Sora's reactions in San Fransokyo. They're so dorky. SORA IS SUCH A DORK I LOVE HIM.

I wanna hug from Baymax.

Sora is a simple Island boy, he's so fascinated by tech.

It sounds like they're saying Yu-Gi-Oh. Is that just me? ITS TIME TO DUEL. THE HEARTLESS.

SORA DOESN'T KNOW WHAT A FIST BUMP IS. THAT WAS SO CUTE.

AHHH SORA AND ROXAS. THAT WAS... JUST... "I'M WITH YOU"... AHHH

What are those things? Are they from Coded? I'm not sure... and that ain't a good thing.

REPLICA. Oh wait, no... I don't think so anyway?

Goofy talking sense into Sora. It's the dad in him.

His eyes also look more hazel than gold.

BAYMAX. WHY MUST YOU DO THIS FAKE RIKU. WHY.

Just like the end of the movie, the end of this world is so freaking SAD. ... I TAKE IT BACK ITS SO FREAKING SWEET!!!! Its official. That is my favorite world now.

Now it's time for the beginning of the end.

RIKU MICKEY NO. Really hope Sora knows what he's doing.

OH MY GOD. THAT. OH MY GOD.

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO. I KNOW THIS FROM THE TRAILER. NO THIS ISN'T GOOD. THIS CANT BE GOOD.

Can I say that Riku has grown so much since the first game? Because he has. It's good and I love AND NOW LETS SAVE AQUA

Sora is a... wha. SORA. BROS. SAVING THE DAY ONCE AGAIN. AHHHHH YESSS. AQUA IM SO SORRY I HAD TO DO THIS. PLEASE BE OKAY.

SHE'S OKAY. SORA SAVED HER SHE'S OKAY. TEN YEARS AND SHE'S OKAY I CANT STOP SMILING.

AHHH EVEN AND DEMYX. I knew that Demyx wasn't like... dark. Even had me going, that's for sure. BUT YES. EVERYTHING IS GOOD YES.

OH. I have a theory. And if right... Please let it be right...

THEY HAVE IT. YES DEMYX YES. THEY HAVE THE BODY.

OH MY GOD IENZO AND ANSEM... I COULDN'T STOP SMILING THAT WHOLE TIME JUST THE EMOTION IN THAT WHOLE SCENE--

THE LAND OF DEPATURE. SHE'S FIXING HER HOME. NOW LET'S GO GET VEN!!! AND VANITAS RUINS EVERYTHING. AND AQUA KICKS ASS. YAS QUEEN.

Wait what's going on??? VEN?! IS SORA GONNA HES WAKING HIM UP. HES WAKING HIM UP. VENTUS IS AWAKE. MY BBY BOY ISAWALE!!! "Good morning, Ven." MY HEART.

Lea is a MAJOR MOOD.

MY HEART. THEY STILL HAVE THEIR WAYFINDERS.

THE SCENE BETWEEN LEA AND SAIX. OH MY HEART. HE JUST WANTS HIS FRIENDS. AND HOW ARE THESE TWO NOT REALIZING YET THAT THE GIRL IS KAIRI?! I mean... I know it was ten years ago, but given all that you know so far... guys. Come on. Lea, you should at ke in st put the pieces together by now.

Though, it was nice to get an explantion on WHY Isa and Lea were turned into Nobodies. They just wanted to save Kairi. They were just... a little too late.

REPLICA RIKU. THE PRESENT DAY ONE I GUESS??? AHHH. It is only later that my dumbass realizes that this is Past!Riku, the one controlled by Ansem. Forgive me about this.

MY KIDS. SO SWEET.

The day has finally come. I am ready. ... I am not ready.

AND THE CHOSEN KICK ASS. With a train. Woo woo.

What just happened. WHAT JUST HAPPENED?! I DIED?!

CHIRITHY. His voice sounds familiar...

Words cannot describe... how amazing the next few scenes are. Like... Sora... my man... I just... I want everything for you. Please let everyone survive this to the end.

THEKEYBLADES U ION CROSS HAS A REASON FOR EXISTING. AHHH MY BOY.

RIKU NO. HIW DO YOU NOT REMEMBER. Never mind answered my own question. Xehanort’s heart and shit. Nevermind. Time to kick heartless ass.

Also, just noticed that Lea's Keyblade glows. And he's holding it the same way he did his chakrams. Nice.

Yen Sid coming to save our asses. THA K YOU. And thank you, Donald. Goofy. Thanks.

And now... the final battle truly begins... tomorrow.

It's late now, and I'm a bit sad because I really wanted to beat this game today. I'm keeping my fingers crossed I can finish it before I have to go to work tomorrow, if not then on Sunday.

Guys... wish me luck. I'll take advice if anyone has any...

[bibliosauruswrecks]

I’m still spending an unhealthy amount of time staring at this Rumbelle aesthetic @timelordthirteen​ made despite the fact that Christmas is over.  Consider this a continuation of what I’m now calling Part 1, because I don’t know when to quit.  I guess this means I need to give this thing a name.

Is it obvious that I don’t know what I’m doing?

It took the better part of a week for Belle to finish the deep cleaning Mr. Gold had tasked her with downstairs.  The first three days, she focused on the front sitting room and the foyer, systematically moving and returning furniture and decorations so that every cleanable surface was wiped down and polished.  Some of the larger pieces she was unable to move, so she improvised with an extendable mop.  If Gold wanted thorough, he would get thorough.

Cleaning the house gave Belle some insight into her enigmatic employer, and confirmed many of the observations she’d already made. That Gold was wealthy came as no surprise; the house was full of valuable antiques, tasteful without flaunting it, but there was nothing that felt personal.  The rooms almost seemed like set pieces for a film, designed to give the appearance of habitation to the outside viewer without actually being lived in.  The formal dining room was much the same.  Belle had no doubt Gold didn’t use any of these rooms.

The back sitting room told a different story. Situated just before the kitchen, it was smaller and more intimate.  The lighter color scheme, a soft sage green, made it considerably less claustrophobic than the rest of the house.  Compared to the front room, there wasn’t as much furniture, but the living chairs and sofa looked used.  There were other little indications, as well.  A half-finished cup of coffee left on the end table, for starters, which Belle rinsed out and placed in the dish washer.  There was also a book, and she was unable to resist taking a peek at the cover.  It was an omnibus containing The Iliad and The Odyssey, with a bookmark of emerald silk poking out about three-quarters of the way through.

But it was the spinning wheel in the corner that caught Belle by surprise.  Smaller and more compact than the more traditional wheels she’d seen, it fit perfectly in the small space.  A basket of wool waiting to be spun indicated that it saw regular use.  It was the only truly personal item she’d seen in the entire house, so far.  As she finished her work in the remaining rooms downstairs, she wondered about it.

With her father still in the hospital, Belle found the prospect of eating dinner alone on Sunday evening unbearable, regardless of the fact that it wasn’t any different from any other night that week. She grabbed her hat and coat, wrapped a thick scarf around her neck, and stepped out into the chilly night without a second thought.

It still hadn’t snowed, despite the forecast promising everything from a quarter inch to two feet for the last four days. The air was crisp, the sky was clear, and Storybrooke’s maintenance department had gotten most of the town’s decorations in place.  Fake lanterns designed to mimic old-fashioned gas lamps had been attached to most of the street lights and utility poles, and garlands with large plastic bells had been strung across Main Street.  The business owners that hadn’t already started decorating back at Thanksgiving seemed to have taken this as a signal, and there wasn’t a single storefront that didn’t have something in the windows.  With one minor exception, of course.

Gold’s pawnshop was completely dark.

He could at least put some of those fake electric candles in the window or something, Belle said to herself.  A wreath on the door.  Anything.

She supposed it wasn’t really any of her business. If Gold didn’t want to decorate for Christmas, that was his own depressing choice.  Still, as she passed the shop on the opposite side of the street, she couldn’t help but wonder.  The place was clearly locked up for the night, so it was unlikely Gold was there. Was he at home right now?  Belle let her mind conjure up an image of him in the back sitting room, jacket off, perhaps with his shirtsleeves rolled up, settled into one of the chairs in front of the fireplace while he finished The Odyssey.  Or maybe seated at the spinning wheel, working with the wool she’d seen, his nimble fingers teasing it into something usable.

You’re being absolutely ridiculous.  Belle banished the thought, and focused on getting to Granny’s before she froze.

The diner was nearly empty, but that was hardly surprising for a Sunday night.  Marco and his son occupied a table in front of the window so they could people-watch, and Leroy was parked on his usual stool at the bar.  Other than that, there were no other patrons.

Catching sight of Ruby, Belle waved a greeting as she settled down into one of the booths.  It was just moments later that her friend came coasting over with a burger and a glass of iced tea.

“How did you…?”

“I’m psychic.”  Ruby plopped herself down opposite and slid to the middle of the booth. “So, you survived your first week with the Beast.  How was it?”

“Not that bad, actually,” Belle admitted.  She poured a generous helping of ketchup on her fries.  “I mean, he’s usually already left by the time I get there, and I’m always gone before he comes home.  And the few times I’ve seen him, he’s been civil to me.  Awkward, but civil.”

“Awkward how?  Creepy awkward? I-hope-you-don’t-find-my-secret-stash-of-kinky-sex-toys awkward?”

Belle took a bite of the burger, mulling over Ruby’s question while she chewed.  “No, nothing like that.  I think he’s just unused to having someone in his house.  He seems like an intensely private person, and having me there’s probably thrown his whole routine out of whack.”

“Yeah, he strikes me as the anal-retentive type.” Ruby pilfered a couple of fries from her friend’s plate.  “So, you found the bodies of his ex-wives in the basement yet?”

Belle choked on her iced tea.  “What?  No!”

“I’m joking.  Pretty sure it was just the one.  And the divorce was messy, but I don’t think there were any bodies involved. Might’ve been some blood.”

“I’m trying to eat, Ruby.”

“Sorry,” she said, not sounding sorry at all as she pinched another fry.  “So, you got any big plans for Christmas?”

“Not really.  It’ll just be me and Dad, assuming they release him next week.  I doubt he’ll be up for a big celebration.”

“Think you’d feel up for some decorating?”

Belle raised an eyebrow.  “I’m sensing an ulterior motive here.”

“Granny’s leaving the decorating to me this year. She’s giving me free reign, and I intend to make the most of it.  Holly, mistletoe, tinsel.  The works.”

“Only you could make that sound ominous.”

Ruby shrugged.  “I aim to please.  Anyway, the point is I may’ve gotten a bit too carried away.  I’ve been dragging out boxes and boxes of decorations, and I’m starting to realize I’ve bit off more than I can chew.  There’s no way I’ll get everything up in time by myself.  But two people…”

“You want me to help you decorate.”

“It’ll be fun!  You can stay after closing, we’ll put on some carols, throw tinsel all over the place, and get plastered with eggnog.  It’ll be good for you.”

As Belle mulled over her burger, she conceded that it sounded like fun.

“Good!” Ruby chirped.  “I’ll drag everything out from the hall while you finish eating. Marco and August’ll be on their way soon, and I’ll kick Leroy out at closing.  This is gonna be great!”

She purloined a couple more fries before scrambling up to get Marco’s check, leaving Belle to finish her burger in peace.

Half an hour after Ruby had locked up and closed down, Belle found herself standing in the middle of a tinsel explosion while “Run, Run, Rudolph” played in the background.  What she’d thought was a set of multiple garlands in a box had turned out to be a single and apparently endless strand of shiny red tinsel.  The box, she decided, was also bottomless because she was sure there was no way the entire thing could fit in there.  The strand snaked out of the box, up around her neck, wound its way down her torso, and ended in a massive pile at her feet. And there was still more coming.

“This is impossible,” Belle declared, wrapping part of the strand around her arm just to get it out of the way.  “Granny’s using stolen Time Lord tech, isn’t she?”

“How else do you think she fits all that lasagna in the freezer?”  Ruby offered her a glass of eggnog.  “You want some help with that?”

“Please.”  Belle sipped the eggnog while her friend unwound the tinsel.  “Just how long is that thing, anyway?”

“I’m not sure.  I mean, I’ve never actually measured it.  I just know it’s long enough to get completely around the diner if you hang it in the doorway and don’t run it down the hall.  If you do that, it’ll reach all the way to the bathrooms, but it won’t make it back, so then you’ve got this big gap you’ve gotta fill and – ooh!”

A pair of glittery red antlers attached to an equally-glittery headband tumbled out of the tinsel.  Ruby pounced on them.  Belle eyed the antlers with more than a little skepticism.

“Are you really gonna wear those?”

“Absolutely!  Magpie brain likes the shiny!”

“How much eggnog have you had?”

“Not enough,” Ruby pronounced, taking a sip of her own.  “I’m wearing these for the rest of the year.”

“The antlers.”

“Yes!  Antlers are an important part of Christmas festivities!  A necessity!”

“You’re going to wear reindeer antlers.  For the rest of the year.”

“Well, I’ll take them off to shower, obviously. And I’ll probably have to take them off to sleep.  Don’t want to get them all tangled up in my hair.  I wouldn’t look like a Christmas reindeer, then; I’d look like a reindeer that just got hit by a car.”

Belle snickered into her eggnog.  “Yeah, I don’t think Granny would appreciate you scaring customers away with your Christmas cheer.”

“Better to scare people off with cheer than being the town Scrooge.  I don’t know how Gold does any business this time of year.”

“Being the only place in town that sells jewelry might have something to do with it.”

“True.  But, hey!” She grabbed the garland and bounded away in a shower of red glitter.  “Let’s not talk about that old miser, and get to decking some halls!”

With Ruby’s unbridled enthusiasm and Belle’s meticulous eye, the pair set about decorating the diner.  It took almost three hours, and Belle didn’t tumble into bed until sometime after midnight, but having seen the end results, she agreed with Ruby that it was worth it.

The snow the forecasters had been threatening the Maine coast with was definitely coming.  Gold was sure of it.  He leaned against the counter to take the weight off his bad foot, and took a deep breath in through his nose, trying to focus on anything except the throbbing pain.  The temperature had dropped ten degrees since that morning with no signs of stopping soon. He glanced at the clock.  It was still too early to take another pain killer, not that it seemed to matter.  If this was how bad it was with medication, he’d hate to see it was without it.

He supposed he could always close up early.  One of the benefits of being self-employed was the ability to make one’s own hours, and any business someone had with him could just as easily be done tomorrow.  Another white-hot lance of pain shooting through his ankle made the decision for him.  Gold closed down and locked up, scowling at the Christmas decorations as he stalked to his car.

It really was quite ridiculous the amount of time and effort Mayor Mills put into decorating for the holidays.  It wasn’t as if Storybrooke had a reputation as a tourist destination, particularly during the winter.  Day-trippers weren’t uncommon during the spring and summer, autumn brought the leaf-chasers, and Granny’s bed-and-breakfast saw the occasional overnight visitor, but like the rest of coastal Maine, winter was the off season.  Gold saw little point in trying to impress a disinterested public.

His disapproval must’ve shown on his face, because Dr. Hopper, approaching from the opposite direction with his dog, quickly side-stepped to get out of the way.  He passed by without offering a “Merry Christmas,” or even any of his usual chirpy greetings.  Gold supposed it was inevitable.  Most of the town had given up on wishing him the compliments of the season, with the exception of a few relentless enthusiasts like David and Mary Margaret Nolan, but they were the sort of people who started celebrating Christmas in October, so their behavior was forgivable if a bit nauseating.

The first flakes had started falling by the time Gold pulled up in the driveway.  He sat for a moment rather than getting out right away, massaging his knee in some vain hope that it might help.  It didn’t, but after all, he reminded himself with a touch of bitterness, it was the thought that counted.  The idea of limping back around to the front of the house didn’t appeal to him, so Gold made his way to the patio door to let himself in through the kitchen, instead.

The soft strains of classical violin caught him off guard, and he froze for a moment while his brain tried to process why there was music in his normally-silent house.  Then he spotted the purse on the kitchen counter.

Right.  It was the middle of the day.  Belle French would still be cleaning.  That belated realization was closely followed by the woman herself.  Belle glided into the kitchen, wielding what appeared to be a curtain rod, and stopped short when she spotted her employer by the back door.

“Mr. Gold.  Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine, Miss French. I simply closed up early today.” Why the hell hadn’t he considered that Belle would still be here?  How was he meant to relax with her in the house?  He supposed he could send her home early.  Yes, that would work.  Send her home early, and he could pretend to ignore his agony in peace.  “Don’t worry.  I’ll stay out of your way.”

Gold was fairly certain by now there was a loose connection somewhere between his mouth and his brain, because that hadn’t been what he’d meant to say at all.

“Good.”  Those bright blue eyes darted up and down, and seemed to land on his cane briefly, before shooting back to his face.  “I mean, that’s fine, I’ll just be finishing here. I mean, I’m almost done with the sitting room, and I’ll be out of your hair, soon.”

His presence was making her nervous, if the way she fluttered back to the other room was any indication.  He shrugged out of his coat, and draped it over the back of a chair rather than walk all the way to the front of the house to hang it on the coat rack.  The very thought made his entire leg twinge. Timing be damned; he was taking another aspirin.

Leaning heavily on his cane, Gold hobbled his way over to the kitchen sink, grabbing a glass as he went. He filled it from the tap, retrieved the aspirin bottle from the overhead cabinet, and tipped two tablets into his hand.  He tossed the pills into his mouth, and quickly followed them with the water. The last thing he wanted was for Belle to find him choking on an aspirin.  He rested his palms on the counter, allowing his hands to take his weight and give his foot a slight reprieve while he gazed out the window.

The snow was coming down in big, fat flakes now.  It didn’t appear to be a heavy snow, not at the moment, at least.  The snowflakes meandered, spiraling downward in a slow dance before eventually coming to rest on the lawn.  There was something quite mesmerizing about it.

A loud thud and a whispered “Oh, bloody hell!” broke Gold out of his reverie.  Standing by the sink, the sitting room was just out of his sight, but he could hear Belle moving around, grumbling to herself. Curiosity finally got the better of him, and Gold limped past the stove and around the counter to see what was causing his maid to curse like a sailor under her breath.

Belle was perched on the back of the sofa, fighting with the curtain rod.  She’d discarded her shoes once again, and Gold found her red-and-white-striped stockings drew his eye right up to her—

Stop it!  He was veering dangerously into lecherous old man territory.  He set his attention instead on the curtain rod Belle was still combating.  It was no longer bare; she’d obviously replaced the curtains while he’d been watching the snowfall, and now she appeared to be trying to return the rod to its rightful place above the window.  With little success, it seemed.

“Miss French?  What are you doing?”

“I took the curtains down to give them a proper cleaning earlier today, and now I can’t get them back up.”  She fumbled with the rod some more, huffing in frustration.  “Odysseus dispatched the suitors with less difficulty.”

“Yes, but if I recall, he had the benefit of a goddess’s patronage.”

She craned her neck to look over her shoulder at him, her eyes alight with that spark seen in any bookworm who’d just found a kindred spirit in the wilderness.

“True.”  She smiled, and her whole face changed.  Gold had known, intellectually, that she was a beautiful woman.  He’d likened her once to a cameo broach he had on display in the shop: elegant and tranquil, with a gracefulness despite the lack of animation, but her smile… With her smile, Belle was positively radiant.

Then she looked away, and the spell broke.

Gold told himself he’d started gripping his cane so tightly because his bad leg needed the support, and not because he wanted to hide the fact that his hands had started shaking. The strange flip-flopping in his stomach was almost certainly from the glass of cold water he’d downed with the aspirin.  He had a little more trouble explaining away why his heart felt like it was trying to beat its way out of his chest, but surely he could come up with a reasonable justification, given enough time.

Belle readjusted her footing as she attempted to find a better angle for the curtain rod.  Gold almost offered to help, but before he had a chance to open his mouth, the loose connection resumed operation again long enough to remind his brain why it would be a bad idea for him to stand on a step-ladder.  He limped over to the end table, intending to grab his book and relocate to another part of the house.  Before he could do so, Belle slipped.

Gold reacted on instinct, stepping forward on his good leg while his cane clattered to the floor. The curtain rod joined it a second later when Belle’s arms pinwheeled in a vain effort to steady herself as she tumbled backward into his arms.  He caught her about the waist, and her hands came to rest around his neck, fingers clutching at his shirt collar.  One foot was still on the back of the couch; the other was wedged down between the cushions. The near-horizontal angle had to be uncomfortable for her, but Gold found himself incapable of doing anything about it.  Just breathing proved to be an issue.

It was the first time he’d ever been this close to Belle, or indeed any other person, in what felt like a lifetime, and he was unprepared for the torrent of emotions that barreled through his mind as his brain tried to process this information.  Incoherent feelings and fleeting impressions bounced around in his mind attempting to coagulate into some form of rational thought. He was touching Belle.  Belle was touching him.  He liked it. He shouldn’t.  He needed to let go.  He didn’t want to, but he wasn’t sure why.  She was so soft, so warm, and he marveled at how she could appear so delicate, but so strong at the same time.

His heart was pounding again.  He tried to swallow, but his mouth had gone dry.  A tiny, malicious part of his brain whispered that he still had his arms around Belle’s waist, but then she smiled again, and he decided he didn’t care.

“Thanks.”  Her voice was low, almost breathless.

“It was nothing.”

“You can, um— you can put me down now.”

Gold blinked. “Oh!  Right.”

He shifted a little, allowing Belle to brace her hands against his shoulders and get her feet back on the floor without tumbling over himself.  Before he had a chance, she bent down to retrieve his cane.  He leaned onto it, relieved to take some of his weight off his good leg.

“Thank you, Miss French.”

“You’re welcome.” Belle fidgeted, running her palms over her skirt to smooth out non-existent wrinkles.  “I should get back to work.”

“Indeed.”  Gold grabbed his book, and started back to the kitchen.  He made it as far as the counter before he turned around and called out, almost as an afterthought, “Miss French?”

Belle, bent halfway over in the middle of grabbing the curtain rod, looked up at him.  “Yes?”

“Do try to be more careful. My reputation in this town would never recover if my housekeeper broke her neck in my living room.”

He expected a nod, or perhaps a polite smile.  Belle took him by surprise with her decidedly-unladylike snicker at his quip. She was laughing at him.  No, with him.  His self-deprecating jibe had made her laugh.  Gold pivoted on the balls of his feet, disregarding the twinge of protest his ankle made, and returned to the kitchen.

With his back to her, Belle couldn’t see the faintest hint of a lopsided grin that had formed on his face.

[shortstoriesbyescher]

Begin Again

This is a story about a man and a woman's journey towards acceptance. However, one of them had a harder time getting there. Should that person keep on trying or accept and begin again?

Drawing Explanation:

For sure once in our lives we try to change ourselves for the better mainly because we are conscious about what others think about us.  John uses “mask” to feel better from what he has done to forget his wrong choices or actions in life. But as we know, everything ends, our mask will break and our true emotions will burst out. We can’t change everything so why don’t we just drink coffee in the morning and say “Fresh New Start” in our lives and just continue our lives for the best.

    "Do you, John Miran, take Eloise Mella to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

        "I do"

        "Do you, Eloise Mella, take John Miran to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

        "I do, father"

        As I was saying those words, I can feel my body shiver with overwhelming joy and anxiety at the same time. I definitely think John noticed it but I didn't care. With the tears falling out of my eyes and the smile that I can't seem to undress, I know that he knows that it's all because I'm excited to spend the rest of my life with him. He may not be the perfect man, but we loved each other with perfect acceptance of both of our flaws, and I think that's what matters the most. I know that obstacles are just waiting for us down the road, but I don't want to think about that right now. All I want is to absorb every feeling I could have at this moment and just look at his beautiful brown eyes, his black, slick hair, and his upper teeth that are a little crooked, knowing that starting today, I'm gonna be able to see that every day. I'm just so excited to be with him, to be devoted to him. Heck, I'll just shut off my overthinking brain for a few seconds and prepare for the kiss.

        "With the power vested upon me by the Lord, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

        He held my waist with his left hand and my right cheek with his right hand. With both of us sharing the same air and our families applauding behind us, knowing that everyone is on board with the journey we're about to embark on, it was the perfect moment. A perfect moment for what's about to be a nurturing marriage.

        "..I'm so proud of you guys. If Kyle can't surpass this great of a wedding, I swear I'll marry both of you." Everyone laughed at the ending of that speech by my high school best friend, Marie. Some people say that once you say, "I do," that's the beginning of your certified matured life. However, there is this thing called the wedding reception. Yes, I and John danced through every jumpy and slow song our band played, hugged every relative, ate a whole bunch of cake, and of course, we drank a lot all for the satisfaction of our single lives before we say goodbye to them. Although I'm sure it was a great night, I can't remember much due to the alcohol in my blood. The next thing I remember is waking up on a master's bed facing a sunrise at the beach. It was supposed to be a lovely awakening, but I just couldn't appreciate it much due to being hungover. I groaned a little and was about to go back to sleep until someone walks through the door and right in front of me.

        "No, no baby you gotta wake up it's a beautiful sunrise! We should walk outside. Here, I brought the classic Eloise hangover remedy: an apple and coffee"

        "Well, I guess there's nothing more for you to know about me. It's our first day as a married couple and we're already old."

        "Then I guess it's a good thing we're both excited to get old together."

        He leaned towards me, smiling, and kissed me. It was the best after-drinking morning I ever had. He exhilaratingly pulled my hand and dragged me out of the cottage onto the shore. He looked at me and chuckled a little as he saw me still carrying the apple. He put his hands on my shoulders and faced me towards him. He then looked at me in the eye and said, "My vows yesterday, that was just a pint of what I wanted to say to you. If I told you everything I wanted to tell you at the end of that aisle it would've taken many hours." We shared a little laugh, and he continued. "But seriously, I'm not saying this just to be that cliché cheesy nerd who watches too many movies but I feel so, so lucky that I'm here right now with you. There have been lots of times where you could've given up on me. When I lied to you about the drugs that was– that was the biggest mistake I've ever done and I was so scared that you'll leave me but you didn't. You always believed in me and I'm forever grateful for that. But now, we just spoke to God yesterday, haha and uhm, we're new persons now on our way to our new life and I'm so excited to begin again with you."

         I was obviously touched by his speech but I didn't make it obvious. Instead, I put my apple beside his confused face and jokingly told him that he's as red as the apple. He tilted his head downward smiling with his eyes still looking at me. I immediately recognized the look and started running. He chased me down tickling my waist and as I was begging him to stop while giggling, he carried me all the way to the water and dropped me there. He starts splattering me with water and I did the same to him. It was a brief moment of kids being in love. No worries, no problems. It was just us against the world.

        It was the middle of the night in the office and I was just about to get my dinner/breakfast. I walked through the mundane hallway passing by co-workers with faces that just wants to go home. As I was walking, I felt something off with my stomach. I can feel something going up so I immediately ran for the bathroom. I got on my knee and threw up on the bowl. At first, I thought it was a headache until the same thing happened two days later in the middle of the night. I didn't tell John yet what was happening to me, but I already have something in mind. I went to the drugstore and bought three pregnancy tests. I got home and tried them all. After the tests, I was happy that they were all positive, but it was followed by fear and worry about all the preparation that should be done. John and I are living in an apartment in Quezon City. I work as a call center agent and he is a car salesperson. Even though our jobs weren't related to our courses, we both graduated from college. The economy was just in a rough patch and we're included to thousands of its victims. Not to mention that we barely see each other anymore because I work at night while he work during the day. This is probably the reason why I felt a little scared when I found out I was pregnant. Still, this is a big and profound moment for our marriage. We may be kind of at the edge right now but having a baby might be our hope, so I called him and told him the good news. I can just picture him annoyed by the call but immediately lit up when I told him I was pregnant. He asked me again if I'm sure, and I told him that I am. I can hear his snorts on the phone, realizing that he's crying in tears of joy at the moment. It was a big moment for both of us. And for the first time in a long time, we're excited about what's ahead of us.

        Fortunately, during my mid-twenties, I managed to get a job as an English teacher in Pasig City Science High School. I worked there for years and since my performance was excellent and I helped a lot with the decision-making, I landed the job as the school's principal. I've been having that job for eight years now and since we admit new programs and students every year, it doesn't get boring. However, John's path was a bit rockier than mine. A year after our son Jesse was born, he was fired after beating up a customer because he insulted me. John was never a violent man, but he could get physical when it's for the people he loved. He was also easily influenced, which is why he got into marijuana during our first years of dating. After months of rehab and attention, we managed to get through it. But after he was fired, he got depressed. That was the time when we were at our worst financially and we couldn't even buy diapers for our 1-year-old son. He became a serious drinker and often get himself into bar fights. But after every bruise and broken furniture, he always kisses me goodnight and carries our son to sleep. He had his struggles but I was thankful at least that he's still the man I loved when it comes to me and my son. I just tried to be the most understanding I can be because that's what marriage is about, and I know there are some flaws about me that he accept, and I'm grateful for that.

        On a lazy Sunday evening, I was sitting on the porch reading The Picture of Dorian Gray. It must be my fifth read of the book but it was just one of the finest literary works I've ever read, which is why I keep coming back to it. John, after years of job-to-job journey, is in our basement doing his favorite hobby, wood carving. As I was reading, I saw a silhouette of a man running towards our house. I quickly closed the book and nervously called John while I was still looking at the silhouette. Before John got out, the man entered the light of the lamp and I was both relieved and annoyed that it was my 23-year-old son, Jesse. Jesse dropped out of college after he was caught smoking pot in school. We tried to help him quit, but unlike his father, he was more hard-headed. We tried to help him get his life together but the thing is that you can't help a man who doesn't want to change, and that's when John decided to kick him out of the house. At first, I was against it, willing to hold on a little more, but he insisted that we should because we've done everything we could. I was a little happy when I saw Jesse because that was the first time I saw him in ten months since we kicked him out. However, John's reaction was the complete opposite. He walked rapidly towards Jesse with rage on his face. He grabbed Jesse's shirt and asked him what he was doing in their house.

        "I'm sorry, dad. You know I wouldn't come here if I didn't need help."

        "Oh please. Ever since you started smoking you already needed help but you denied us. Now, get out of my house before I call the police."

        Jesse had a nervous look on his face. A look you do when you did something bad and you try to run away from it. He asked John if he could just crash for the night. When John was about to deny his request, I interrupted. I told John that it was the first time we've seen our son, and one crash is not a lot to ask. Eventually, John hesitantly agrees.

        While we were having our dinner, Jesse decided to stay in our spare bedroom. As we're eating, we saw three motorbikes park outside of our house, and John decided to check it. He slowly went outside as the three men walk towards him. They all wear black and are covered with tattoos. One of the guys asked him where Jesse is, and John said that he doesn't know. The man subtly showed a gun stuck on his pants, but John still denied it. After a brief staredown, the men eventually leave.

        John angrily walked back inside. I tried to ask him what happened but he just passed by me and walked right through Jesse's room. I tried to stop him as he kicked the door open. To our surprise, Jesse was smoking in his room. This got John furious so he grabbed Jesse's shirt and beat him up while screaming, "You are a disgrace! You come here, you put me and your mom in danger, and you're here smoking?!" I desperately tried to stop him but he just pushed me forcefully. He continued beating Jesse until he stopped moving. John slowly calmed down with a look of fear and regret on his face. He stepped backward, looking at the badly beaten Jesse. I immediately went to Jesse and checked for his breathing, while John was just standing, stunned. Jesse was dead. My husband killed my son. Tears start falling from my eyes but now, it was a different kind of tears. They were tears of anger and devastation, which is utterly different from what was at our wedding. I punched his chest asking him what he had done while he was just there, standing. However, he started to move when I said I was calling the police. He grabbed me and begged me not to, but I just looked at him and asked him if he's gonna beat me up too.

        "I always knew you had that inside you, and I was okay with it because I thought it was for the safety of your family. Now it's out. Now I know. You're a different person to me now."

        He let go of me as I call the police. Slowly, he faced the door. He stopped and closed his eyes for a second and starts running away. After calling the police, I went back to my son's room and held him in my arms, mourning and distraught at how quickly things fell apart.

        It's been eight years since my son's death and my husband's disappearance. According to the authorities, he was presumed dead. Throughout those years until now, I steered my focus on myself and myself only. I attended counseling, volunteered in environmental programs in my city, and got in touch again with my best friend, Marie. Marie is a mom with a 14-year-old daughter. She and Kyle divorced three years ago and being the Marie that I've known, she's been dating from guy to guy. She's been encouraging me to date again, but I always shoved it off, telling her that I'm happy alone and too old to be hit on. But the truth is, I was okay. I moved on much quicker from my husband's disappearance than my son's death so when it comes to dating, I was ready.

        One day, Marie asked me to go with her to Pink's, a bar in BGC. It was her birthday. She also invited Vera, a mutual close friend of hours from our adult life. At first, I was hesitant, but Marie was always a good persuader, so she eventually made me agree to come.

        We got to the bar at 7 pm and since it was a Tuesday, there were not that many college students in the bar. Most of the people were in their mid-30s and late-20s, so it wasn't that awkward for us to drink. While we were drinking at the bartender's lounge, a tall man suddenly swooped in beside me and said hello. Realizing that I was being hit on, Marie and Vera decided to slide themselves a little farther away from me to give me and the guy some space. He was tall, close to my age, has a chiseled jawline, and a classic barber's cut with the sides starting to gray, which is hot for me considering my age. I asked him what I can do for him, and he chuckled.

        "You're in a bar and you speak like it's your first time being hit on."

        "Uhm, yes. I guess this is the first time."

        "Wow, I seriously can't believe that." He proceeds to look at my figure.

        "By the way, I'm Paul."

        "It's nice to meet you, Paul, I'm Eloise."

        "Eloise? Whoo you just got prettier"

        I ran my fingers through my hair, embarrassed, but still amused with his charm. We continued to talk for a few more minutes about our work and how we're still flirting in our 40s. Then, he asked me if he could have my number. I paused, not knowing if I'm actually ready to get back in the game. I was also kind of worried because the first guy to hit on me was way too hot for the guys my age.

        "I'm sorry, I can't. I'm just too busy with work and–"

        "It's okay, actually. I don't wanna bother you or anything haha. It's nice meeting you."

         "You too."

        While we were on our way home, my friends were disappointed that I turned down the guy, but I didn't mind. I guess all I needed was validation that I still got it at my age and I don't need to date again.

        Two weeks later, I was at Super 8 shopping for groceries. While I was at the vegetable area, I bumped into someone. The person was tall so when I looked up, I immediately realized that it was Paul. He was also surprised by the coincidence and asked me what was up with me. I told him that everything's the same as the last time we met. However, he opposed my claim and said, "Actually, no, because unlike last time, we're not drunk." I chuckled again at his joke. He said that he likes to shop with me, and I allowed him. Just like last time, we talked again but since we're in a grocery, we mostly talked about our favorite foods and crazy experiences with food. He told me that he once threw up in a plane because the steak served to him was really raw. He funnily told that story so it didn't come off as disgusting as it should.

        He helped me carry my groceries back to my car and when we got there, he asked me if he can now get my number, but I paused again. I know that he's a nice guy and I want to give it to him. I guess I was just more affected by what happened between me and my husband more than I thought I was. Still, I braced myself, breathed deeply, and gave him my number.

        "But in under one condition: you'll only call me if you're available to help me with my groceries." I jokingly said.

        "Uh-huh we'll see."

        We parted ways and I drove my car smiling.

        As I was laying in bed, I was shuddering like a 14-year-old girl being asked out by the bad boy of the school. When I calmed down and preparing to sleep, I thought about him but more lucidly this time since I'm calmed down. However, the excitement I felt was replaced with unwelcoming nostalgia when I saw John. I didn't know why John popped because Paul was the complete opposite of him in several ways. He was charming, funny, and not to mention, more handsome. I think their similarity is that they're both romantic, which is a classic trait of all guys trying to win a girl. I told myself that I moved on and I will not let his memory hold me back.

        One night, he asked me out on a date at an Italian Restaurant called The Frazzled Cook in Gandia. I was uneasy to enter because It was my first time going on a date in a very long time. I think he noticed it which is why he put my hand around his arms, and just like that, I was a little relieved. We sat on the corner booth and were immediately approached by the water. He politely said that we'll look into the menu first. With the way he spoke to the waiter, he was so suave and professional, which made him even way out of my league. But he's interested in me so who am I to complain?

        "You have an order yet, sweetie?"

        "Uh, uhm, I guess water?"

        "Wow, you are shaking haha"

        "I know I'm sorry."

        "Nah, it's okay. My job for tonight is to make you as comfortable as possible."

        Again, I was amused by his charm. He was so smooth that it made me think he did the same to numerous other girls. And just like that, I had a topic in mind. I asked him how many exes he had. Realizing that I got personal too quick and out of the blue, I apologized. However, he told me that it's fine and that he had a kid with an ex-wife. He then asked about me. Ashamed of the history I have with my only ex-boyfriend/husband, I told him that I dated for a while but they all just didn't work out. He lifted me again from embarrassment and said, "Well, we'll see how this goes and perhaps, things won't fail this time." He held my hand after he said that, and I smiled right back and just stared at him, mesmerized by his beautiful brown eyes.

        After dinner, we decided to just walk home. As we were walking, we passed by a tricycle terminal. Most of them were staring at me, which I just dismissed. I looked at Paul and he also seemed uncomfortable with the staring, so I grabbed his arm tighter. However, when we’re about to pass them, one of the drivers made an obscene remark about me, so Paul rapidly took my hand off him and pushed the guy. They stared at each other with their faces close as I try to tell Paul to calm down. Eventually, he stepped back, walked again with me, and ignored the drivers calling him a coward.

        Our following dates were amazing. We got to the point where we're comfortable with each other. We often went out from Friday night to Sunday because of our work schedule. But still, we managed to make the most of those three days and during our fourth date, we kissed while watching a romantic movie.

        One Saturday morning, Paul and I were scheduled to meet at Luneta. However, as I was preparing, someone knocked on my door. When I opened it, it was Paul with his 9-year-old daughter Lena. She was shy, hiding behind her father's left leg. Paul told her to say hello and she did, and I welcomed her back. I let them in and changed the channel on my TV to Nickelodeon for her to watch. Paul and I talked and I asked her about his daughter. He said that they're getting old and they seem to have enough dates so he finally introduced me to her. I was touched by how much he trusts me that he let me meet his daughter. I asked him if I could play with her, and he let me. I walked timidly towards her and asked her what she was watching, and she told me it was Power Puff Girls. Being a fan of Power Puff Girls in my high school days, I had a lot to talk about with her. Everything felt great and overwhelmingly wonderful, and the fact that I was sharing that with the man I adored made it much more special.

        One night, I got news that Marie had been in a car accident. I immediately went to the hospital but they wouldn't let me in. I was scared and panicking but I didn't call Paul because he's busy at work. Vera was there and she comforted me. After an hour with no news, she asked me if I want to come with her to grab a beer. With the stress I'm undergoing, I complied.

        We got to a bar near the hospital and all I know is that I kept drinking that night. I can't remember anything more than that. The next morning, I found myself on someone's bed. And after regaining myself a little, I immediately recognized that it was Paul's since we were dating quite a while now. I was facing the large window of his apartment facing the sunrise. As I was about to go to sleep again, someone entered. It was Paul.

        "Hey, honey how you doin'?"

        "Okay don't speak right now. I feel like my head's about to explode."

        "Stay there I got some apples here and I already made some coffee."

        "Thank you, baby." We kissed.

        As I was laying in bed and about to sleep again, I noticed something. I feel like my hangover went away for a second and I got up and sat at the edge of the bed. I heard him on his way back in the bedroom talking about how I got so drunk and Vera called him to bring me home. But before he could finish his sentence, I said, "Apple and coffee, huh? How did you– how did you know that?" As I look at him after I said that, he paused. I saw his lips tremble a little and his face got red, almost the same color as my ex-husband’s. After a few seconds, he said with complete confidence that it was his hangover remedy and he wants to see if it works for me. I bought his reason, took the apple and coffee, and shoved my little suspicion off. After sipping some of the coffee, I immediately remembered Marie. I packed my things and told him in a rush that something happened to Marie. As I was flustering, he grabbed both of my shoulders to face him and he told me that Marie is fine and that she just suffered minor injuries. I looked at the way he held my shoulders, then his eyes, and in a sudden shock, I took them off. I told him that I have to hurry to check on her and left.

As I was walking outside, everything was blurry. My head felt so heavy and I was swinging almost away from the sidewalk until a kind stranger pulled me back. He asked if I was okay, and without looking at him, I told him that I am. I kept walking and as I do so, I can't quite take my mind off Paul and his unsettling similarity to my ex-husband. The hangover remedy, the eyes, the way he holds me, everything. I kept telling myself that maybe I'm still hungover because I know that they're a completely different people. I screamed in my head asking John to get out. I faced my head down with my eyes closed, shaking. I slowly looked back up and I saw everyone staring at me. I just realized that I said that out loud. With complete embarrassment, I just kept walking.

        Paul already called me six times, but I just feel too uneasy to talk to him. I know I'm already sober but the thought of Paul and John is still bothering me, so after school, I went to Vera and told her about the similarities.

        "Are you sure you're not crazy or something?"

        "I'm serious. And not just those I mean, every little thing he does kind of reminds me of John but I just ignored it. But now, the signs are getting bigger and it's getting scary."

        "Maybe you're just overwhelmed with the fact that a guy that perfect came to your life after years of not dating. It happens. You just have to get used to it."

        "That's the thing. He's too perfect. I'm not belittling my looks or something but come on, a guy that handsome, that rich will pick a middle-aged woman at a bar? There's something wrong."

        "John's dead, okay?" I just got quiet after she said that, but it didn't stop me from wondering.

        The next day, I went to the police station responsible for the search of my husband. One of the detectives brought me to their archive of cases and gave me John's file. It was said that he was never found, making me even more suspicious.

        Later that day, Paul invited me to his apartment to have dinner. When I got there, I tried to be as assertive as possible so I would not raise any suspicion and I don't wanna cause trouble in front of his daughter. When I entered, he was moving around still wearing his suit and his apron on hurriedly preparing our dinner. He told me that he decided not to bother me after I didn't return his calls, thinking that I have some personal problems I have to resolve on my own, and I just smiled a little uncomfortably. As we eat our dinner, we were quiet, quite unsure who wants to begin the conversation. I just subtly looked at his every move trying to find similarities, but he's just cool. I started to overthink that maybe he knows I know something and he's playing with me. But I trust him, for now, maybe that's just who he is, for now. After a couple more minutes of silence, I started asking him about friends and high school. At first, he was surprised that I was just asking about those things now, but I told him that I just forgot. He managed to answer them all with confidence. He told me that he went to Pasig Catholic College in high school, but he and his friends drifted apart for a long time now and most of his friends are colleagues. I told him that I went to PCC too, and he replied with complete surprise and enthusiasm about the fact that we went to the same school. I asked him why we never met, and since I was a member of the student council, I know many students from three batches higher and lower than me. I was thinking that if he tells me that he's four years higher or lower than me, there probably is something fishy about him since he said that he's only a year older. However, after stuttering a little, he told me that he went there only for his first year and that he transferred to Rizal High School for the rest of his high school life. I tried to ask him why he didn't just tell him that he went to Rizal, but I realized that I'm starting to come off as interrogative and I don't want him thinking suspiciously. So, despite my pending questions, I let it slide and continued eating dinner with him.

        The next morning, I got up from my bed feeling uneasy and nervous, which are not the ideal feelings a person should feel when the sun rises. I called the school and told them that I'm feeling under the weather, and they openly let me take the day off. The truth is, I was gonna go to PCC and Rizal to check for Paul's history in those schools. If I don't find anything, then I think it's the perfect time to call the police. I got on my car, shaking, but I continued. Deep in my mind, I was hoping that I'm wrong, but I need to find out who Paul is.

        As I was on my way, Paul called me. At first, I didn't wanna answer it, but I realized that I was already suspicious last night and I'll look more suspicious if I don't answer, so I answered it. He asked me if he can pick me up because he has time to bring me to work, but I said that I was sick and staying at home for today. He asked me if he can come over, but I quickly told him not to because I don't wanna infect him. I just assured him that I'll be fine. He said, "okay, I love you." I told him that I love him too in a fidgety voice before hanging up.

        When I got to the school, it was empty. I guess most of the people were inside the building busy with the classes. When I was walking my way through the gate, I felt someone grabbed me from behind and put a towel on my face. I felt dizzy and subsequently lost consciousness.

        When I woke up, everything was dark. It felt like I was in a tight space and when I was about to scream for help, I realized that my mouth was tied up. I also noticed that the space I'm in seems moving, and I realized that I was in the trunk of a car. I desperately tried to get out. I was so scared and my chest was getting tight. I thought I was gonna die but after a few minutes of pointless struggle, someone opened the trunk. At first, I can't open my eyes due to the sun and when I slowly adjusted, I saw Paul. He brought me out and I saw tall trees and grass with no one but us. We were in the middle of the forest. Numerous questions start banging in my head: Is he gonna kill me? Why is he doing this? What did I do wrong? With all that questions racing in my mind, I didn't notice that I was crying already. I begged him not to harm me, and when he starts walking towards me, that's when I got off the towel on my mouth began screaming. He closed my mouth with his palm and looked in my eyes with genuine remorse. I was confused why he was looking like that. And just like that, I stopped screaming. He told me to calm down and brought me back on my feet. He made five steps backward and we just looked at each other with completely confusing emotions going on in our heads. After a few minutes with no talking, he said,

        "Eloise"

        "Why did you bring me here?"

        "I don't know where to begin."

        "Try." We looked at each other again. After a few seconds, he looked on the ground while I remain looking at him.

        "You know who I am right?"

        "I said, why did you bring me here? How did you know where to find me?" I said that in an enraged manner.

        He paused again, looked at me, and looked at the ground again, and said, "I followed you."

        "God. When did you start following me?"

        "A long time, way before I talked to you at the bar."

        "You are sick. You are si–"

        "Okay just hear me out for now, okay?

        "You're John! And you changed your face? Your name? Everything?

        "Yes"

        "Why? Why? For this sick game–"

        "No! No I– I was keeping myself from getting arrested."

        "Then why did you come back to me? Why couldn't you just live at the other side of the world and be a free man?"

        "Because you're also right." I was confused with his answer, but I didn't reply.

        "I got nothing else to tell you. I tried to cover everything but I know you'll find out eventually. And I can't keep lying my way out of it because you know that is not me."

       "Oh, so I'm supposed to fall for you again because you're honest? Is that what you're saying?"

        "I'm saying that– I'm saying that I wanted to begin again, as a new person. I don't wanna be the guy you met before."

        "You're not the guy I knew before, you're right, because the John I know now is worse. Nothing’s changed. You're pretending to meet me again for the first time and at that point, you're already lying."

        "If you just gave me a chance–"

        "It’s not that. It's not because I'm meticulous. It's because you can't change who you are. You can change your face, you can change your background but you can't change who you are! You subconsciously gave me my remedy. At that point, you should've known that you can't replace yourself. And the fact that you went all that– that bizarre kind of trouble just makes me not want to be with you. I loved you, John. I know you have those faults in you but I didn't know that you'll go this far! If you just serve your time and paid for your mistakes–"

        "I can't go to jail! This was the only way I know."

        "What's the difference?! You were still gone for eight years. What's the difference?! You are sick! And the fact that you brought me here–"

        "Eloise it's not–"

        "What?! This is it right? I didn't reciprocate your love and all that's left to do is for me to turn you in. What's my purpose? You can kill me right here, right now and no one will know that John is alive."

        "I killed our son, I'll go to jail, there's no way that you'll love me again when after–"

        "Then accept it! My son will never come back and I accepted it. I may have lost you both but I accepted the life that was left to me. I'll never feel the way I felt on our wedding day again. I will never be whole again, whether I live in a house or in jail. There's no difference, so please just accept it."

        "Eloise–"

        "Accept it, please. Begin again but not with me or whatever it is in your past. The only way to move forward is to pay for what you've done. That's what your son would've want to happen, not us getting back together."

        He just looked at the ground, while I remain looking at him. After a minute, he looked back at me and said, "Call the police." I asked him if he's sure, and he nodded.

        It's been two months since everything happened. Marie had finally recovered and I was living with her for a while. In fact, after what happened to me, she stopped dating, temporarily of course. I know she'll get back in the game once the impact of these happenings dies out. I also adopted Lena, who turned out to be from an orphanage that John adopted seven years ago. And finally, after years of evasion, John finally went to jail. But I'm not happy. All those years, he could've just lived a new life, but he can't because I'm still here. Although he tried to live that new life with me, reality's not that generous. We had a good run. For half of my life, we were together. However, things end. The only thing that can be done is to cherish the present, no matter how exciting or boring it is before it passes.

[princessdevy03]

Tumblr Exclusive!!!!

For @anybodihearme and Chicago House…

House Music

To say that Kevin was annoyed was an understatement.

The team lost their away game and as the head quarterback, it was all his fault.

Edd couldn’t come to his game because he had a swim meet to go to on the other side of the state.

This all meant that they had spent the entire weekend apart because the football team headed out for their game Friday afternoon and the swim team left first thing Saturday morning for their meet.

Despite their busy schedules, Fridays and Saturdays were schedule date days because they were assured at least a few hours to themselves to get out or just stay in and be together.

But it seemed like the schedule gods hated them both because Saturday would be more than done by the time either got back to town, so they compromised for Sunday.

Except Mother Nature had other plans.

The storm was just an early fall rain shower when it came through Peach Creek and Lemon Brook, but was a full blow thunderstorm by the time it got to Charleston.

Kevin was in Springfield trying to calm down the ravenette over the phone who spent the night in his bed and waited out the storm.

Things were quiet when Edd left for Morgantown in the morning, but then another storm system came through and hung out for the entire day and well into Sunday, dropping damn near two weeks of rain in a few hours.

And softball sized hail.

And three EF3 tornadoes.

Kevin was grateful that Edd wasn’t at the school by himself when all this was going on because he knew that no one would be able to deal with him if he had to ride that mess out by himself.

But it cut into their communication as cell towers were down and the authorities were asking people to conserve their data for emergencies only so they could use the working towers themselves to help people who really needed it, not bored college students wondering when the power and wi-fi were coming back online.

Because he hadn’t heard from him since Saturday night when they commiserated their losses over text as Edd lost all five of his races because he was just too tired from being scared shitless all night from the storm to make any headway in the water, Kevin was his own special brand of worried when the team bus pulled into town and his coach told everyone to head straight for their rooms and make their phone calls to their parents quick.

Kevin wasn’t a fan of calling the two people who cared more about how he made them look to the world than how he felt living in it.

But because the team was a family and he knew a few of the other guys parents would talk to his, especially since Charleston was trying to pick up its pieces that had been scattered by the last major storm of the season, he’d make the call and it would be quicker than quick because he didn’t care to deal with the judgment of losing at the moment.

Especially since his smart ass scaredy cat was incommunicado.

After unloading his gear into his locker, he grabbed his phone and called home.

“Kevin? Where are you?” His mother asked as soon as she picked up the phone.

“At school, we just got back in. Just called to tell you I was ok,” he sighed, trying to sound normal and not as anxious as he felt.

“Well, that’s good to hear. I’ll let your father know when he gets back in. But what happened to you yesterday?!”

Rolling his eyes and praying that his quick walk through the tunnels below the stadium would make him drop the call, even though he knew it wouldn’t, he quickly thought of what he knew was a lie, but would work as a satisfactory answer for her.

“They were just a better team, Ma. We weren’t ready.”

“I guess,” she sighed. “But you need to get them back into it this week. Your father and I aren’t coming to town to see you lose this weekend. It’s homecoming, Kevin.”

“Uh huh. Yeah, I got it, Ma, but I gotta go,” he said tersely, as he exited the stadium and headed for the dorm. “Towers and all that.”

“Oh, yes, of course. Go get some rest. Don’t let that Double Dee guy be bothering you tonight. You need to rest up.”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure my boyfriend leaves me alone,” he groaned as he damn near stormed into he and Edd’s building.

“Kevin, you –“

“Boyfriend,” Kevin said firmly as he slammed a fist on the button to the elevator, too achy to walk up the seven flights of stairs to Edd’s floor.

“You know how we feel about that, Kevin,” she snipped and Kevin promptly ended the call.

The moan he heard coming out of Edd’s closed dorm door as he raised a fist to knock on it shook him before he groaned out a laugh because he knew Edd couldn’t make a sound like that if he tried, and Lord knows Kevin has tried to help him do so.

The squeak that followed was embarrassingly adorable and he shook his head at himself for nearly ruining a moment for the poor girl Edd’s playboy of a roommate had in his bed tonight.

“God, I hope they have condoms,” he thought to himself as he trudged up another four flights of stairs to his own room, needing to shake his conversation with his mother off his weary body.

When he finally got to his room, he was ready to take the beanie-less scholar spinning around in his desk chair into his arms and ravish him senseless, but the way Edd was dressed and the way the room smelled gave him a HUGE pause.

Edd was wearing one of his long sleeved tshirts that the football team got to wear around town to promote their team and the school and a pair of blue yoga pants.

Because the orangey peach of the shirt and the blue of the pants clashed, Edd would never wear the outfit outside of his or Kevin’s room. But because the shirt was Kevin’s, he’d wear it whenever he knew the redhead would be close because Kevin seeing him in his things made him a mush and mushy Kevin was his favorite Kevin and Kevin liked being Edd’s favorite anything.

But room smelled like sex and he could hear a rough voice in the bathroom.

Edd yelped when he slammed the door and stormed over to the bathroom to see who was in the shower that just shut off, only to have Rolf curse him out in what Edd had been telling him for years wasn’t his native tongue, but dialectic, and Ang was ready to kill him.

When he came out of the bathroom, he was more embarrassed than he had ever been in his life, and that includes crying during his first time with Edd.

Edd was still curled up in his chair when he was shoved out of the bathroom, the quilt Kevin’s grandmother brought over from Ireland wrapped around him making him look a bit like a shaman, his wild, dark hair peeking out from the bit of quilt on his head, his eyes dark and thoughtful.

“Uh, Edd?”

Edd didn’t say anything, just merely pointed a finger at Kevin’s bed.

When he sat down on his bed, he noticed that the bed next to his was unmade and Ang’s pink Nike duffle bag was next to it, a ripped open box of condoms on top of it.

“Oh, God. Edd did you…?” He asked quietly.

“No, they were sleeping when I got here,” Edd said as he stared at the wall. “I took a shower and changed and began working on my studies while I waited for you. They only woke up about twenty minutes ago.” Then he turned an angry gaze on the sheepish man on the bed in front of him and said in a hissed whisper, “What in God’s name were you thinking storming in here like that?!”

“That my boyfriend was wearing his this doesn’t leave my room clothes in a room that smelled like sex with someone in the damn bathroom!” Kevin exclaimed, desperate to be believed and understood.

Rolf and Ang came out of the bathroom, at this exact moment, their clothes looking a bit rumpled from dressing so quickly in the small space and Edd’s head dropped on an exasperated sigh.

Ang grabbed her bag, jacket, and shoes and ran out the door, Rolf not too far behind.

When Rolf slammed and locked the door behind him, Kevin turned to see Edd with his hands cupping his face, blue eyes hurt and angry.

“Edd, I –“

“How could you?!” Edd asked, flabbergasted that Kevin would ever think that he would cheat on him, let alone in his own damn room with a roommate dating the biggest know it all on campus.

“I…I dunno,” Kevin muttered as he looked at his hands that threw four interceptions in the first quarter alone in the game the day before.

Edd flew out of the chair and the quilt fell to the floor as he shoved Kevin back onto the bed and straddled him, jabbing a thin finger in his chest.

“Don’t you dare ever think that I would do something like that to you!” He all but screamed at him. “I love you too damn much to do that, you know that, Kev!”

“I’m so sorry, Dee,” Kevin whispered, wanting nothing more than to make the hurt in Edd’s eyes go away. “I didn’t mean it, honest!”

Edd wrapped a shaking fist in his collar to hoist him up nose to nose and did his best not to cry as he said, “If I ever cheat on you of all things, I will be in jail because I will kill you dead for doing something that would make me want to do that in the first place!”

Then he shoved him back on the bed and ran a shaky hand through his hair as he collapsed into the chair again and rolled halfway across the room, sweeping up the quilt made with love, but didn’t love them.

A budding friendship in middle school was encouraged as Kevin needed a level headed peer to help keep him out of trouble and Edd could use the cool points being friends with a popular guy like Kevin provided.

But puberty is confusing and feelings that were being sparked by silly gapped tooth grins and cool smirks couldn’t be denied.

What was done in the darkness came to light and in an effort to seem tolerant, their relationship was okayed by family and friends alike, but reality was far colder.

Eddy didn’t trust Kevin at all and Ed only wanted to see Double Dee happy, keen on making sure Kevin made him smile all the time to both Kevin and Edd’s chagrin.

Nazz was perturbed that her chance with the boy next door was shot all to hell and stopped speaking to Kevin for weeks, doing absolutely nothing to keep their other popular classmate’s cruel behavior at bay until shit came to a head and Kevin got suspended for kicking the boys track captain’s ass for pushing Edd to exhaustion during gym.

Kevin was suspended for two weeks; one week out of school and one week in, leaving Edd to essentially fend for himself. Even with his like named friends help, and mostly because of it, the target on his back grew, so Rolf stepped in and his new girlfriend from the city became Edd’s bodyguard of sorts.

The farmer didn’t understand why Casanova Kevin was falling all over himself for the smart, but still exceptionally dorky Double Dee Ed Boy, but if Kevin was happy and Edd was happy, he was happy for them and would stand with them because people should be happy.

And his girlfriend loved to give people a good old fashioned whatfor when it came to things that were really no concern of theirs.

When Edd snapped on Marie for trying to flirt with him during the long two weeks Kevin wasn’t around, it was the final nail in the coffin for the love she had for him. Especially because it put the entire school on notice that what he and the hottest guy in town had was real after Kevin made a long Facebook post about how his dork was the best boyfriend in the damn place for finally putting Marie in hers.

What shocked everyone was that Marie actually respected it and left him alone in the sense that she didn’t flirt with him anymore, but didn’t mind messing with people who messed with him.

Seeing her neighbors and a new girl step up to help the one guy she knew wouldn’t hurt a fly and didn’t deserve to be so mistreated just because of who he was, Nazz called a truce of sorts, and the bullies back down.

But home wasn’t home anymore.

Edd’s parents casual disregard for their son didn’t change and they looked at Kevin as a leech at best, thinking he wanted nothing more than Edd’s smarts and allowance, as they were one of the better off families in town.

But his work ethic in school, on the field, and at his stocker job at the candy store, opened their eyes a bit to who he really was, so they left the issue alone to the point that they barely spoke to the boy when he was around and let it be known that their lawyer would handle any issues that came up.

Edd never got to have dinner with Kevin’s parents on Sundays like Nazz and a few of his other ex-girlfriends once did, his invitations to the house were only during publically acknowledged holidays. And even then they were treated as buddies who were a bit too close, not the lovers they are.

When Kevin got his scholarship, he thanked Edd first for not only his help in making sure he studied and did his best in class, but for believing he could do it when no one else did.

And their relationships with their family and friends became like flashbacks in movies because of it.

Rolf and Ang stuck with them, everyone else made their way to the sidelines to wait things out.

When Edd took a grant to come study at the same school and not the private research university in North Carolina his parents met at and graduated from, Kevin shook him, then hugged him and cried.

Ang would tease that he didn’t want to have to break new friends in, but they all knew the truth.

He loved him.

What college never prepared them for was the social life they would have to build away from home.

The cute hotshot QB spent most of his time shaking off tittering sorority girls, while the budding scientist had to make sure his guard was up against cold eyed bad boys who were just as athletic as Kevin, smooth talking smart girls who liked to make him blush, and infatuated TA’s who were blown away by how smart he was.

It was as if everything that attracted them to each other was now trying to rip them apart.

Because their academic lives were spent on the opposite sides of campus with Edd in labs and Kevin in gyms, meeting in the middle became their thing.

They would take lunch in the student union at the center of campus, do all of their shopping together at the Wal-Mart in town, study sessions in the library in full view of everyone put them on all kinds of radars, most positive, some not so much.

Most got the point after seeing them canoodle all night in a dark corner at a house party during the football team’s bye week.

Ang would spend the rest of their college careers telling off the rest and loving every second of it.

But tonight, when he’s tired of the judgmental words and looks, tired of trying to be everything for everyone who really doesn’t care about him, tired of worrying about him and them and just wanting it to all be ok for once, he drops the ball.

Hard.

Hearing him sniffle broke his heart, but if there’s one thing Kevin can do, he can do for Edd.

He got off the bed and slowly walked to the dresser Edd was sitting in front of, curled back up in the quilt and wiping his eyes.

The wind whirled outside and Edd went stiff, which made it easy for Kevin to pick him up and carry him to his bed.

He laid him down and pulled him into a cuddle as he said, “I’m sorry, Baby.”

Edd knew he was because the sincere remorse in his eyes from his first apology that night told him that he knew he had messed up.

But what Edd truly wanted to know was why Kevin would truly think such things in the first place.

Redheaded tempers aside, he wasn’t one to come flying in the room the way he did unless something on the other side set him off and then the domino effect of Edd’s clothes and now only slightly pungent sent of sex in the air made things worst.

Kevin was mad and then he was sad and scared, and now he’s just so sorry and Edd’s at a loss.

“What happened, Kevin?” He asked, desperate of answers to make things right with them again.

The ringing of Kevin’s phone made his heart stop, but the odd ring of the room’s phone and knock at the door had him confused.

The familiar ring tone Kevin had assigned to his father echoed around the room as the ring from the room’s phone blared and the knocking on the door got louder.

“Don’t answer that,” Kevin said in a tone that meant that he was trying to spare Edd’s feelings at what could be on the other line as he yanked his cell phone out of his pocket, walked to the small table the room phone was on and then headed to the door.

Only the athlete’s had phones in their rooms just in case, and they rang normally if someone on campus was calling. The ring was just a bit off if it were off campus.

And the only people to call this room from off campus were Rolf’s and Kevin’s parents.

He yanked the door open and gave a curt, “Yeah?” to everyone who wanted his attention at this very moment.

“Parents?” The assistant offensive line coach asked and Kevin nodded. “Ok, get some rest then,” the coach sighed and Kevin cocked his head as Edd set up a bit straighter in the bed wondering what the man’s weary sigh meant. “We might not be having morning conditioning because power is out at the gym right now and they don’t know when it’s going to be up again because it isn’t an essential building. Keep your phone on and we’ll keep ya posted, ok?”

Kevin gave the man a quick shrug and the coach chuckled as he walked away.

When the jock stepped back into the room and closed the door, he slid to the floor and closed his eyes as two people who honestly cared more about an image that the no one but them cared about checked back in with him.

His mother was in his ear to listen to his father and his father was hammering him in the other with the same “What happened?!” questions his mother had.

That his coaches and teammates had.

That Edd had.

That he had for himself.

To be honest, the freshman quarterback was overwhelmed and not used to being on such a big field so far away from home with no real support on the sidelines or in the stands.

His parents just couldn’t come.

His friends in the cul-de-sac had their own school and work duties to attend to.

Ang had to work and Rolf was her ride as her car was acting up and both Rolf and Kevin were too busy with school and their sports teams to really devote much time in fixing it.

And Edd was on the other side of the state fighting his own battles that he couldn’t win.

Every toss of the ball was just him throwing his shot out to the world and missing. And what the world volleyed back hit him in places that were so deep and dark that he wondered if he’d ever be okay.

Edd watched him from the bed as he drew further and further in on himself with every murmured, “Uh, huh…Okay.”

He silently got up and went to his laptop and brought up a Spotify playlist that got him through many a study session, but would also bring clarity to his mind when he was just overwhelmed and stressed out from it all.

It would also be the soundtrack to many makeout sessions with his boyfriend and on a few occasions tune their afterglow.

As the wind blew outside the window, he turned down the volume of the jazz playlist he had going because the bass of the new playlist didn’t need the volume the more brassy playlist did.

Then he closed his eyes and waited.

As the soothing sounds of the house music that made his house a home, made their rooms just a bit more cozy, and whose soothing tones eased their worries away, they both relaxed.

Edd only barely registered the beep of a phone disconnecting a call. Some shuffling let him know Kevin was up and moving around the room so he was feeling better which was more than Edd could ask for considering the weekend he had.

They both had.

When the chair spun around, his arms flew open and so did his eyes.

And in them Kevin found the understanding he had been craving for the past thirty two hours.

Arms wrapped around bodies and lips connected as they tumbled back to the bed.

But Kevin was still holding back and Edd wasn’t having it.

He arched his back and squirmed into Kevin’s touch, silently pleading for more, but Kevin’s response was slow and light like always.

“Kevin,” he managed to moan as kisses left his mouth and started tenderly down his chin and neck.

He caught a light snicker but knew better.

Grabbing the redhead’s face, he looked him in the eyes and said, “Don’t hold back.”

Kevin looked at him in shock, but the pleading look in Edd’s eyes was easing some of his worries away.

But only some.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” the redhead whispered, scared out of his wits at Edd’s request because he knew what he wanted, but wasn’t sure if the ravenette could take it.

“You won’t,” Edd giggled, a bit surprised at himself for encouraging him, but knew Kevin needed this.

“Edd.”

“I trust you, Kev,” Edd said as he leaned up and nuzzled his neck, lightly kissing the pulsing vein that resided there as Kevin bit back a whine. “Please. You need this.”

“I need you.”

“Then take me.”

Edd barely had time to gasp before their pants hit the deck, a shirt and hoodie quickly followed.

Shaking hands found lube and a condom, but a steady finger found the one place in Edd that completely stopped his world.

“Baby, breathe,” Kevin ordered and Edd’s chest heaved in response.

When his breathing came back to a level Kevin was comfortable with, the hand that did so much wrong yesterday made Edd feel so right.

He buried his face in Kevin’s neck to muffle his strained moans as the redhead pushed himself inside, while the redhead growled into the pillow.

The muffled moans slowly eased into breathy pants of pleasure and whines of need and something in Kevin started to break.

As he slowly moved, Edd only barely moved back, but he gripped his shoulders and kissed his ear as the bass of the music resounding around the room matched their pounding heartbeats.

Each song’s rhythm was never ending thrumming beat that Kevin’s hips quickly matched, and soon, so did Edd’s as Kevin’s grip on them controlled his movement and Edd could do nothing more but comply to a situation he damn near begged for.

As his back arched, the only thing keeping him anchored on Earth was one hand under the headboard.

The other was slapped over his mouth to muffle his gritted screams.

The visual was an ego boost to Kevin’s busted self-esteem.

He was the one that was making Edd feel this way.

He was the one that could drive the quiet, conservative dork to a place where he was begging to be touched in a way that only someone with special permissions could do so.

Kevin would always have the permission; he just had to take it.

The ball of emotions in his soul cracked when Edd grabbed the bed with both hands and bit his lower lip on a scream.

As that lithe chest heaved again and again, thin fingers reached to grasp Kevin’s wider ones on his hips.

Then he moaned.

And Kevin lost it.

Edd held on as he was pounded into oblivion, barely registering what Kevin was saying as the wound up jock watched his dick jerk in and out of his ass and Edd’s own leaking cock bounce on a belly sculpted by a three times a week Pilates regimen that Kevin thanked the Sexy Flexibility Gods every time they made love for.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect.”

“Jesus, Edd. You’re so fucking hot like this.”

“Ass so tight, I could cum just looking at you.”

“Fucking shit, I’m gonna scream if you don’t quit.”

The wind blew hard enough to make the lights flicker, but Edd was too far gone to notice, let alone care.

Thunder shook the building, and Kevin shook Edd.

Lighting flashed outside and their glazed over eyes met for the tiniest of milliseconds.

Hard green that had been so frustrated had given away to a soft emerald that only wanted peace and affection.

Bright blue held all that he had ever wanted and more.

Sheets of rain fell and Kevin barely heard the faint whisper of his name as the power went out and Edd sat up and moaned out, “Oh, dear Gawd!”

Thankfully, his laptop wasn’t connected to anything but the wi-fi and though it went out with the power, the music played on, as it had been downloaded to his computer and would stream on no matter what happened.

So all anyone heard besides the frightened screams of silly co-eds, was the music of others who’s playlists were like Edd’s.

But Kevin didn’t care.

Edd clinging to him as he shook them both harder than the wind blowing outside and moaning his name over and over again was all he cared to hear.

Ever.

When they came back to Earth, the power came back on and everyone in the building cheered.

Except for them.

They were a bit too busy making out to notice anything but the man wrapped up in his arms.

Right up until a crack of thunder helped segue another heart pumping song.

Edd yelped and Kevin held him tighter until he started breathing normally again.

“Wanna shower?” Kevin cooed as he pulled out of him and Edd nodded tightly as the act sent another rush of endorphins over him, making the crick in his back spark a bit in pain.

They sat on the floor of the shower, as standing wasn’t feasible for either of them.

Kevin playfully gave him a shampoo Mohawk, and Edd scrubbed away the sex and sweat, the aches and pains from their athletics, and as they lay in a steamy afterglow, things felt fresh and new again.

Edd insisted they get out before they fell asleep, Kevin countering that the only difference between his bed and the shower was that one was wet and the other was dry and being in a wet space with Edd was always nice.

Edd could do nothing more but groan and shut off the water, making his point loud and clear.

As they cuddled up in the small bed, the music turned down low enough not to bother the neighbors but still loud enough to drown out the storm, Kevin whispered so many I love yous against his forehead.

The sweet gesture warmed Edd’s heart not only because he loved to hear Kevin say those three little words to him like that, but because he was showing it, too.

Wrapped up in all the sheets and blankets, the warm quilt that always smelled like Kevin in top of them, he felt safe and warm.

But the whispers meant the redhead was looking out the window and keeping an on the storm outside that scared him to his core.

He knew it was an irrational fear, but being in love with Kevin was even more irrational by most people’s standards.

So he would take the love that felt as natural as the rain pouring out of the sky at that moment and let it comfort and protect him from the world that wanted nothing more than to scare him into perpetual hiding.

“I love you, too.”

Four words that made the world right again.

Four words that brought peace to his soul and affection to his being.

Four words that he would fight the universe herself to keep, but knew that as long as he came to where he was, he would never lose them.

But Edd came to him tonight and it made him fall in love with him all the more.

He was there and he was his.

The music and the rain lulled them to sleep and when the new day broke through and Kevin headed to morning conditioning with the football team, a promise was in his ear as song ran on repeat in his heart.

“I’ll be here when you get home.”

Be yourself, you gotta be yourself and no one else…

[leisurelypanda]

Life is Good chapter 17

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11676360/chapters/27588132

There was one thing that Craig wanted to do before Amanda went back to college to finish out her semester and since she was obligated to return on Sunday, that meant that they had to do it on Saturday if they wanted to do it as a family. Craig, of course, was talking about getting a Christmas tree. Not that he told Andrew and Amanda. He wanted to surprise them.

“Why are we driving out to the middle of nowhere?” Amanda said. “If we get lost and have no service, I’m not up for doing any of that survivalist stuff in Long Haul Ice Road Paranormal Ghost Truckers.”

“Relax,” Andrew said. “If we have to do any of that stuff, my bro and I can start a fire.”

“Getting lucky one time when you had camping supplies and dry wood doesn’t count, Pops,” she said. “That was spring time. Have you seen the snow on the ground?”

“There’s not that much,” he protested. “And you have so little faith in your father, Amanda.”

Craig turned onto a little road with a sign with a Christmas tree on it. They were getting close. The girls and he had gotten their trees from this farm for years. And this early in the season, they would have the best choices, unless they were all taken in the Black Friday rush. Which was doubtful. As soon as he saw the place he turned and parked in the small parking lot.

“We’re cutting a Christmas tree?” Amanda asked with festive cheer. “Like, an actual Christmas tree, not a fake one?”

“An actual Christmas tree, dude,” he said. “We’ll cut it down and everything. Get a picture, even.”

Andrew took his hand and laced their fingers together. “You’re the best, bro.”

“I just figured you’d like for us all to do this together, bro,” he said, touching their foreheads together. “You deserve it. Both of you.”

“Bro, stop, you’re gonna make me cry and then we’ll just run into something cause I can’t see,” he replied, blushing. Because of the cold. Obviously.

“Don’t worry,” Craig said. “I got you bro.”

The girls were already running through the rows and rows of trees looking for the perfect tree. Amanda found one that was beautiful, but Craig said was too tall for his living room. They found another one that was short enough, but had a huge hole on one side. Hazel found one that was also short enough, but the branches were a bit bare. They went through this in quick succession. Trees that were too tall, some that were too short, some that were too thin, some that had really prickly needles. Finally they found one that was short enough to get into the house and put a star on top of that was also fat enough to fit all the ornaments on. Amanda set up her camera on the tripod and got them a few family pictures until she was satisfied, then demanded the pleasure of taking the handsaw to the base of the tree and shouting “timber” as it fell to the ground.

They got home and set it up near the window across from one of the couches in the living room.

“Gotta say Pops,” Amanda said. “It’s nice to have an actual Christmas tree. Too bad I gotta leave tomorrow.”

“Don’t say that, we’re decorating it tonight and getting a picture of it before you go back to college,” Andrew said. “And stop bringing up that you’re leaving, let me live in denial until tomorrow.”

“Sure thing, Pops,” she said, giving him a hug. “Now let’s make this thing pretty!”

Thus followed an evening of finding the boxes of Christmas ornaments and arranging them on the tree. Some were broken, as per usual. They figured out pretty quickly that keeping Carl Jr (and more importantly his tail, which was prone to wagging) away from the tree was essential and placing non-breakable ornaments on the lower levels while they were gone. First up were all four “Baby’s First Christmas” ornaments, Craig and Andrew gushing over their memories of those precious first Christmases with their daughters rolling their eyes over their cheesiness. Once all those ornaments were safely on the tree, they got started on the rest.

There were stars and horrible child crafted ornaments made of foam and classic colorful glass ornaments. Amanda broke some (accidentally, she claimed). None that were of sentimental value, though. They hung candy canes and strung golden lights through its branches and when that was all done, they covered the tree in tinsel. Finally Craig (because he was the tallest) got up on a step stool and placed a star on the tree and it was done. It was a beautiful sight.

“It’s gonna be a great Christmas this year,” Amanda declared. “I can already tell.”

“I think you’re right, Manda Panda,” Andrew said. ***********************************************************************************************************

The house wasn’t the same without Amanda. The most obvious way, of course, was that Andrew was very obviously in a funk, despite the cheerful Christmas tree. It was like this the first time she left for college a couple months ago. It was a little less pronounced this time by the knowledge that she would be back in a couple weeks for a month long winter break, but he was still a little less responsive, animated, and upbeat.

Craig understood. Sort of. His girls were all pretty young, after all. Even his twins were still in elementary school. They didn’t go away for months on end. Usually just for a weekend. But still, Craig knew that his bro missed his girl. There was nothing to be done but wait for his bro to get it out of his system. It wasn’t easy. How do you get used to someone who’s been your only family being away most of the time?

The weekend after Amanda went back to college, the girls went to Smashley’s house for the weekend. Craig decided to try and help his bro take his mind off of his woes. Through retail therapy. And since the girls were away for the weekend, it was the perfect opportunity to get their Christmas shopping done.

They walked through the doors of the mall and Andrew was suddenly hit with the realization that he had no idea how to shop for a family of athletes. Amanda was more artistic and creative. Most years she was happy with arts and crafts supplies (until she started focusing on photography, that is) or a video game or tv series. Hazel and Briar, however, liked sports. They liked running around outside in sports jerseys and baseball hats and cleats.

This is why I ask people what they want before I go shopping, he thought. Though surprise gifts can be better than the stuff you knew you wanted.

That being said, Andrew had lived with them for a few months, so it was easier to think of something than it would have been if he had been trying to think of something just seeing them a few times a week. Hazel was more bold, adventurous, mischievous, and a bit of a hellion. Briar was more shy, thoughtful, got better grades, and a thinker. Both of them had a competitive streak nurtured through years of playing sports. He might not know how to shop for athletes, but he could work with competitive stuff. They walked into a store lined with toys and games and Andrew walked right to the board game section and picked up a game that he played with his family when he visited.

“What’s that, bro?” Craig asked, looking over his shoulder. He was holding a couple of Nerf guns, the kind with the suction cups that stuck to walls. Or people.

“This, bro, is probably one of the best board games ever devised,” Andrew said.

“You think they’ll like it?” he asked.

“I think they’ll become addicted to it,” Andrew said. He also grabbed an expansion so that the five of them could all play the game together. “The question is, are you prepared to deal with your daughters shooting each other with Nerf guns?”

“I might regret this, but they’ll love it. I just hope they don’t break anything,” he said.

“Good luck with that,” Andrew teased.

They went to a digital supply store next and got some new lenses and filters for Amanda, who had wanted to do some experimenting with her photography once the semester was over. Craig looked around at the smart technology, like washers, refrigerators, and such. Andrew grinned. “In case you were hoping to get one for Christmas,” he teased, “I don’t think I can quite afford a new fridge, bro.”

Craig side-eyed him, but grinned back. “Nah bro, I just think it’s crazy that people actually need to buy stuff like this. I mean, I could barely figure out my smartphone when I first got it.”

“I hear you, bro,” he replied.

On the way out, he spotted the Lord of the Rings extended edition box set for Blu-ray complete with commentaries and cast interviews. Andrew eyed it enviously. He’d never been able to find it when he actually had the money to afford it. Taking care of his daughter was always his first priority. He turned away from it hesitantly and went with Craig to purchase their gifts and head home.

[punkscowardschampions]

Buster & Rio

Buster: How are they then? Buster: Besides missing me madly like Rio: Yeah, that's the general consensus here, like Rio: Assuming I'm talking to the girls? 😜 Rio: Everyone's good, enjoying their freedom from education hard, being cute gays, like Rio: How are you lot, babe? Buster: Better not be too hard though, Nance has got a lot of hair to hold back. Your brother not so much, granted Buster: Oh you know, we're manic. High on sugar and poor impulse control Rio: Don't worry, the stylish yet efficient bun is in, she'd not risk her crowning glory, like 😂 Rio: 😏 and that's just you, yeah? Buster: Standard Buster: 'Course. Only bribe you with the sweet stuff Rio: Likewise Rio: You know my weaknesses Rio: I'll facetime later to read 'em a story, I found some cool new ones out here Rio: Why were we shopping for kid's stuff I hear you not ask, well Rio: Don't worry, your sister ain't knocked up Buster: You gonna facetime me later too, yeah? Buster: I got to thinking she'd landed herself another MILF, this time with kids in toe like Rio: Duh, know you can't sleep without a story from me either, I got you baby Rio: Nope Rio: You'll never guess Buster: Are you actually gonna make me Buster: Or just tell me Rio: Alright, Demi and June are going to have a baby! Buster: You're right I'd never have guessed that one Rio: Well, here's the thing Rio: they've asked me to surrogate for them Buster: But you burst their bubble, right? Buster: And then they found someone else Rio: No Rio: We've not gone ahead and started the process or anything but I think its a good idea Rio: it'll make it so its biologically a bit of both of them, as close as Buster: Yeah I get where they're coming from and what they get out of it Rio: You don't think it'd be a nice thing for me to do for them? Why not? I've got the eggs, the incubator Buster: Nice ain't the word, babe Rio: Its my little brother, if I can do something to make him happy, I wanna Rio: and it won't be that much of a hardship on me, like Rio: Sure I can deal with morning sickness and the rest Buster: If you say so Rio: You don't want me to Buster: It ain't up to me Rio: No but I care about your opinion Buster: Yeah? Buster: That's why you already said you'd do it Rio: Not officially, or exactly Rio: I couldn't no it out of the gate Rio: He's so excited, you know what he's like, it would've looked weird if I wasn't Buster: Fuck that Buster: It's weird that you wanna do it Rio: Why is that weird? Buster: 'Cause you ain't Chlo, wanting to just give your kid over when you reckon your part's done Rio: Don't say that Rio: It won't be mine Buster: Bullshit Buster: You're carrying it, you think you're not gonna get attached feeling it kick and everything Buster: Come on Rio: Plenty of women do it Rio: All the time Buster: I don't care about them Buster: I care about you Rio: Then trust me when I say I can Buster: You know I trust you Buster: But can't I be worried, like Buster: Just trying to look at this from the POV you won't Rio: Of course you can but Rio: It isn't fair if they can't have a kid Buster: Grace can't either, you gonna offer for her too? Buster: Don't act like there aren't other options Rio: If she asked, yeah Rio: but she's 18 and single so quite unlikely Buster: You know what I mean Rio: Well what if I want to experience it myself Rio: I'm not going to get a chance now either, unless I take this Buster: That's not a reason to put yourself through this Rio: You can't say that Rio: You don't know, you have kids, and your a man, its totally different Buster: So it's my fault now? Buster: Whatever Buster: You wanted my opinion Buster: I know what it's like to not be able to raise your kid yourself, remember? I don't want that for you Rio: Didn't say that Rio: I'm saying you can't know how I feel on it Rio: It isn't like I'll never see it Rio: still be family Buster: Don't you reckon that'll be harder? Buster: Look what happened to your sister, having Drew around but not Rio: Why would it be anything like that Rio: I'm not like him, I'm not going to pretend she doesn't exist Rio: she'll have me as her Auntie and she'll know I'm her bio Ma but she'll have two parents that love her Buster: So did Edie Buster: Really felt it though, didn't she? Rio: Shut up Rio: You're being stupid now Rio: Its not close to the same situation Rio: Edie knew she was a mistake, one her Da especially did not want Rio: this is planned, and so wanted, and the kid will know Buster: Forget I said anything then Buster: You've made your mind up already anyway Rio: I have to do this Rio: can't you support me? Buster: Of course I'll support you Buster: Doesn't mean I can't warn you. I have to, if you have to do this Rio: Okay Rio: I hear you, yeah? Rio: Noted Buster: I love you Rio: I love you too Buster: Good Rio: I'm coming Home in Sunday Rio: or Imma have to buy another suitcase for all the presents Buster: And if Kira couldn't see you before she goes back to Erin's you'd have to hide in your suitcase Rio: Exactly Rio: Don't wanna miss her Buster: No way she's letting that happen Buster: And, you know, her curls are so big now like Rio: 😍 Rio: They're both so beautiful, my heart melts Rio: How can I deny the world of my DNA either, yeah? Buster: You've got me there Buster: You would make a beautiful kid Rio: Right? Rio: And Demi is gorg so not gonna fuck with the mix, thank God Rio: like soz, Junie, don't rate your mans Buster: He's not as hot as me, but who is Rio: Obviously Rio: but not the colour they going for, like Buster: Tut tut Rio: Reverse racism at its finest, you reckon? 😂 Buster: I'm only playing Buster: Gotta when you got no adult company Rio: Poor baby Rio: You love it Buster: Can't lie Rio: Mhmm, no fooling me, boy Buster: Too late for all that, I know Rio: How's Messi Rio: take a pic? Buster: [Sends a group selfie] Rio: 😘💖😩💋 Rio: My faves Rio: Wish I was Home Buster: Me too Buster: But we've waited longer for each other, yeah? Rio: Yeah Rio: Just dramatic Rio: We're all going out later so, won't have time to mope then, they won't have that 😏 Buster: Out where? Buster: Like the club or the museum? Very different vibes Rio: The club, we've exhausted the museums Rio: Sure the lads would disagree but Buster: And you've gotta make the most of it Buster: Can't be hitting the dance floor pregnant Rio: Who says? Rio: Gotta keep working and werkin', like Buster: 🤑 Rio: Although I am having to argue that case rn Rio: Obviously, you get compensation but Demi says I should rest and take more but Rio: I don't know Buster: You'll have to decide when it happens Buster: You won't know the struggle until you do Buster: My mum worked until she dropped, literally but Chlo milked it as her standard Buster: Erin was somewhere in the middle Rio: You did drop in early Rio: Height of rudeness, tbh Rio: Couldn't let me be even a few days older Buster: Blame Nance, she came out first Buster: I was chill and chilling Rio: Likely story 😂 Rio: Hope I don't give them a bogof baby too Rio: not planning for that Buster: You'll be begging for rest then Buster: My mum was sick as hell with us Rio: Again, your awkwardness does not shock me, babe Rio: It is more likely with IVF but fingers crossed Rio: not needing the extra dollar that bad Buster: At least you could take inspo from Disney and keep one each Buster: What could go wrong? 😂 Rio: Perfect plan Rio: You already think I'm gonna become the child snatcher so why not be that cruel about it Buster: Exactly Buster: And the cuteness will be too hard to resist we already know Rio: Oh yeah, THAT'S why you've got 2 already 🙄 Rio: I've got some self-control, unlike yous 😘 Buster: 'Course Buster: 😇 you are Buster: Sainting yourself with this move too so Rio: Hard job but someone's gotta Buster: Who says? Rio: Don't lets start on that again Buster: I'm just saying Buster: Catch me here sinning Rio: Sure, Dad 😏 Rio: Face it, you're such a good boy now Rio: lost it, like Buster: You wish, babe Rio: Nah Rio: Devvo about it, I am Buster: Liar Buster: It'll go perfect with your mother mary vibes when all this goes ahead Rio: Fuck off Buster: I'd say make me but you're too much of a goodie two shoes now Rio: You're so annoying Rio: being a Da made you perfect, did it? Rio: I think not Buster: You know it Buster: Always been close anyway though Rio: 😂 Rio: Please Rio: Anyway, I'm not going to be a Mum, fullstop Buster: Says you Buster: The kid might have a different take Rio: Lord, it ain't even cooking yet Rio: Never mind your imagined teen angst Rio: plenty of donor babies in the world, not losing their shit Rio: they'll be better parents than I'd ever Buster: Whatever Buster: Come on, there's a limit to the bullshit and we both know you're such a great ma Buster: Indie can vouch Rio: That's different Rio: it isn't real, for one Buster: Jay then Rio: You know I love her Buster: Yeah and you're more of a mum than her actual one is Buster: So don't use that as an excuse Rio: I'm not Rio: I'm just saying Rio: The kid's gonna have a good life, yeah Rio: It won't be wanting for anything, least of all me, I'm sure Buster: Fine Rio: Don't be angry Buster: I don't wanna fight with you Buster: Go have fun or whatever Rio: Well, I ain't going to now Rio: but we'll talk when I get back, then? Buster: If that's what you want, yeah Rio: We're getting nowhere now so Rio: Got no other option, have I Buster: You always have options, Rio Buster: But pick your battles too, like Rio: Didn't realise it would be one Buster: What does that tell you? How much have you even thought about this? Rio: If I had made this much drama when you were having Kira, Jay even, we wouldn't be here rn Buster: That's different Buster: It wasn't my decision, for one thing Rio: So? I still supported you Rio: It was still happening Buster: I've said I'll support you Buster: Doesn't mean I have to agree with everything Rio: How are you going to support me if you don't agree with it on some level Rio: Its not going to work Buster: I'll be here anyway, that's how Buster: For you Rio: Alright Buster: Not like I'm the first person to have to get on board with something I'm not 100% sure will work Buster: Our families did it for us and that worked out Rio: True Rio: Just thought it'd be different Rio: but its alright Buster: What do you want from me? Buster: Tell me Rio: No, it was stupid Rio: you're fine Buster: Rio Buster: Come on Rio: It's me Rio: I'm good Buster: Babe, talk to me Buster: I'm sorry I made you upset Buster: But you can tell me anything Rio: It isn't your fault Rio: I just wish it was exciting news Rio: it is for them Rio: but you're not excited for me, and why would you be, or anyone else Rio: because it isn't my news Buster: I'm sorry Buster: That's all I was trying to get across, you don't have to do this just 'cause they want you to Buster: If you wanna have a baby this isn't the way, you know Rio: I know, they aren't forcuing me Rio: but, I don't wanna take that away from them, anyone Buster: I know and you know I love how much you care and how you'll do anything for the people you love, yeah? Buster: I'm just saying don't hurt yourself over it Buster: I just want you to be careful. Think carefully that's all Rio: Yeah Rio: I will Rio: I am Buster: I'm not trying to say it's the same, fucking obviously, but when my mum and dad didn't bring my brother home from the hospital, I remember it Buster: How excited me and Nance were and then Rio: I know Rio: That's awful Rio: but you were kids, there was a lot of confusion and not getting it Rio: I know what I'm signing up for here, like Rio: I know it won't be fun for a while afterward, the hormones and that Buster: Just remember you'll be leaving empty handed too Buster: I trust you Buster: I won't keep beating you over the head with my drama Rio: I can't not do it Rio: How would I say no, like? Buster: Just let the word come out Buster: Practice on me if you want Rio: Funny Rio: They'd be heartbroken Buster: Call me selfish but I'd rather them than you Rio: I can handle it Rio: It's about time something good happens for June, Billie has Stevie and she's settled Buster: Then do it Buster: I can't and won't stop you Rio: My Ma'll be buzzin' Rio: another grandbaby, at last, slacking so hard, like Buster: No arguments there Rio: think she was 6 down by now Rio: preggo with the twins Buster: Christ Buster: Two's hard enough, cheers Buster: Didn't have to birth them myself either Rio: Yeah, she's hardcore Buster: I clearly take after mine Buster: Happy with two Buster: Any more would be such a headfuck Buster: They got their head round it though I guess Rio: Nah, you're just saying that 'cos you ain't had chance to impregnate anyone recently Buster: You're away until Sunday Buster: Plenty of time Buster: Three could be my magic number too Rio: Fuck off Rio: You prick 😂 Buster: I proper miss you Rio: Sounds like it Buster: If you need to hear it, call me later Rio: Just lemme know when you've got your newest baby mama out the door and I will Buster: But I might need you before she leaves, 'cause you know I don't want anyone as much as you Buster: Hate to fail to make baby 3 Rio: Can't find the staff these days, can ya? Buster: 😂 Buster: Got my heart set on sticking to the numbers and my parents status quo though now Rio: I believe in you, babe Rio: power through Rio: if you can with Chlo, you can with anyone Buster: True Buster: Better hit the club myself for a candidate Rio: Ha, you gonna bring along 1&2 like? Buster: They'd love it Buster: Haven't stopped dancing all day Rio: Reckon you'll fuck with their street cred tho Buster: maybe Rio: who goes to the club with their lame old dad Buster: You would Buster: Daddy's girl Rio: Can't tell if you mean my actual Da or you Rio: too awkward to ask Buster: That's how you know you need to sort yourself out, babe Rio: shut up Rio: you love it Buster: I do love you Rio: I know Buster: Good

[theworstbob]

the thing journal, 6.11.2017 - 6.17.2017

capsule reviews of the pop culture i took in last week. this week: venice, witness, 1989, gilded, punch-drunk love, sucker, bloody bloody andrew jackson, gone now, boomiverse, melodrama, before sunrise, pinata, whiplash

1) Venice, by Anderson .Paak: Paak might be really close to Greatest Living Songwriter status. Like, Malibu and Yes Lawd! are both undeniable classics, but this is ALSO so solid, solid enough that I feel like, if we get someone in the room with Paak to say, "Hey, dude, maybe don't put a bad butt pun in this one?" Paak could be running the world. Every second of this album is wonderful. Like, .Paak makes songs that make an indoor kid like me wish he was at the beach, that's like the only thing I can say about this album. .Paak' great. I don't have enough words to describe what makes him great.

2) Witness, by Benjamin Booker: ...So, this is the last thing I'm writing? And this was a nice, bluesy rock album that made a Sunday morning slightly doper. I liked it, it was nice, listen to it if you like nice rock albums.

3) 1989, by Tay Tay: I sure do have a lot to say about this album that wasn't said two and a half years ago! I liked it. The first five songs are as good as any five songs on any album that's ever been, and then the rest of this album... Exists? Like there's no way I'm going to call an album with "Shake it Off" and "Bad Blood" on it a classic, and after hearing Lana del Rey songs I can't get behind the Lana del Rey impression that is "Wildest Dreams," like it was already an enh song but knowing it was ripping off an enh thing gives it a firm "no," but any album with "Style" and "Blank Space" and "Style" deserves plaudits, and the album does pick up with the last two tracks, which are up there with the first five tracks as the best stuff Tay Tay has ever done. End of the day, though, To Pimp a Butterfly still should have won Album of the Year, and if at the end of 2014 Catch-Up 1989 is still in the top ten for 2014 (#9 as I write this), I'd be stunned.

4) Gilded, by Jade Jackson: This? was somehow recommended to me by Amazon because I enjoy the music of Paramore. I cannot claim to have heard the Paramore in this. I heard a pretty decent if slow-moving country album! That was a fun surprise! One of my favorite things about country music in 2017 is how, like, we typically associate rebellion with punk and rap, y'know? Loud music that moves fast and is always shouting. And rebellion in country is sitting with just an acoustic guitar and singing sad songs about small towns. Like, a lot of country music is about what a small town home town dirt road party it is to be in the sticks, so the outlaws have to slow it down and reflect on whether they're truly happy where they are. So like, this album has incredibly little in common with Paramore from a music standpoint, but they share an attitude which has to manifest itself differently because of their respective genres. Basically, I'm incredibly down with this album.

5) Punch-Drunk Love, dir. Paul Thomas Anderson: hey. hey guys. did you guys know about this paul thomas anderson dude. he's pretty great. like, everything about that scene where he asks the woman out, the warehouse collapsing, the calls from the phone sex scammer, his sister haranguing him, the woman not knowing how to respond to this, him clearly not knowing how to handle the situation, the pudding the so much pudding, the score building as everything falls apart, it's so fucking good. i remember, when i was 12, this movie had like two whole shelves at hollywood video, and when my dad and my family were looking at this movie, we were like "we love little nicky! but this might be more serious? and poor innocent caralin," and i just, i wonder what a younger me would have thought about this film. i wonder how i would have reacted to this, if we actually had pulled the trigger on punch-drunk love before i was anywhere near ready to handle it.

6) Sucker, by Charli XCX: hahaha i need to do theme weeks or something like i'm supposed to think about a paul thomas anderson joint and then try to come up with a decent opinion about a fine, just a tich below great pop album. i should've eased myself into this, it should've gone punch drunk love, the kimbra album i added to provide the bridge from film master class to pop, and THEN charli xcx. i mean, i enjoyed this a lot, i had a solid, solid bus ride, but like i just need to structure the sequencing of thing journal better. like, maybe don't put the slap-hitting second baseman after the cleanup hitter, but the jason kubel type in the fifth spot, the chunky dude who kinda sucks at baseball but hits dingers more often than not. gotta think about my lineup, guys!

7) Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson, wr. Michael Friedman: Well, this was good stupid fun. I think "Ten Little Indians" is a standout track, so clear a standout that it honestly belongs in a better work. It's a distillation of Native American history that doesn't seem to have any place in a musical recasting one of the shittiest presidents as a vain, morose emokid rock star, but then again, I listen to soundtracks and don't watch the shows, so fuck do I know about context. So, yeah, I dug "Ten Little Indians," and then everything else was fine and silly and took itself just unseriously that it never felt like American Psycho. Theatre in general isn't a good home for irony, but at least here, the sarcasm wasn't subtle, it was waving a giant flag the whole time saying "THIS IS DEF JOKES."

8) Gone Now, by Bleachers 9) Melodrama, by Lorde See, if I were a decent listener, I might have tried following up Gone Now with Melodrama. These reviews aren't being indexed in chronological order; I listened to Boomiverse before I gave Melodrama a spin, and looking back, I should've saved Gone Now for Friday to do a Jack Antonoff Power Block. I wonder if my opinion on these albums is colored by the interview I read where Jack Antonoff says he originally imagines all his songs for female voices, he writes his songs for women, then pitches them an octace down should they become Bleachers songs. And I found both Strange Desire and Gone Now to not really resonate with me, neither album really hitting me in the way an entity such as Bleachers should hit me. Bleachers is fun, '80s-inspired pop music -- I love that! But there's this weird disconnect I feel between the voice and the music, and I can't tell if that's a conclusion I arrived at on my own or if it was informed by that article, because while I didn't like Gone Now, I really loved Melodrama. Lorde and Antonoff work perfectly together, her voice gives life to a lot of things I heard but wasn't enthralled by on Gone Now, and they had a vision for this album -- songs have part twos! There's a reprise! ("Liability" is DOPE in the context of this album, y'all) -- which they executed sublimely. It's a complete, cohesive album that feels so much bigger than 11 songs, so full of weird ideas, and while I'm not sure how the mainstream is gonna react, I thought this was dope as hell, "dope as hell" being the highest praise my limited vocabulary has to offer.

10) Boomiverse, by Big Boi: One benefit of being just a dude on tumblr chronicling his experiences is that I didn't have to listen to and write a thinkpiece about a 70-minute Lil Yachty album. I only have to experience Lil Yachty through his features on other people's songs, do not have to contend with the totality of his vision. But, it is disappointing that professional music people DO have to write extended thinkpieces about Lil Yachty, when those words and thoughts and energies would have been far better spent on this album. This album is just good. There's no frills, minimal use of the obligatory Atlanta trap beat, clever rhymes, only occasional misogyny, and maybe the most jubilant rap track of 2017, "All Night." I honestly can't remember the last time I heard a hip-hop joint as joyous as "All Night." So much of my favorite hip-hop of the last few years hasn't been happy, and not even the justifiable "shit's fucked up" unhappy, the "sadness is the only valiid emotion" unhappy, and "All Night" is a statement that darkness is nothing without light.

11) Before Sunrise, dir. Richard Linklater: "Hey! I've been up since 1 AM, and it is presently 4:30! I'm going to put on this quet movie about a quiet night in Vienna so I can watch Before Sunrise before sunrise, LOL!" Yeah so I fell asleep during this one, team. Not long enough to feel like I missed a lot, not long enough for this film to lose its impact, but enough to feel like I failed this film. What I was able to see was great. It was like someone shot a podcast in Vienna, and that sounds like an insult, but I'm into movies that are just two people talking to each other, and I'd be into a podcast where two strangers try to fall in love in two hours, two people bullshitting about love and relationships and the future while wondering if they could be happy with the other person outside of the podcast. It didn't feel at all tempered knowing there's a sequel in the queue. Like, knowing these two people see each other again is disappointing, only in the sense that I don't get to live with the ending for 10 years before learning about the sequel, but at the same time, the characters don't know they're going to see each other again, and that last goodbye at the train is so heart-wrenching, the way she disappears behind the wall and the guy just follows her, trying to stay as close to her as possible.

12) Pinata, by Freddie Gibbs & Madlib: I will let nature review this album for me: I live in a garden level apartment, and outside my bedroom window, where I stationed my new computer, there's a bucket beneath the gutter in which water rests. Squirrels will occasionally come through, take a sip, and bounce. But as I was listening to this album, I saw that the squirrel was lingering outside my window. I assumed it was responding well to the vibrations created by Freddie Gibbs' pleasant, deep-voiced flow and the low-key production, and that it was enjoying the things it was feeling. This is music squirrels can enjoy, man, what more do you want. And then a Danny Brown feature came on, and that squirrel RAN, man. Like, I get it? I wouldn't expect a squirrel to respond well to Danny Brown, but I still feel that squirrel is missing out.

13) Whiplash, dir. Damien Chazelle: When I listen to music, I've found I connect to the drumming more than anything but the lyrics. Part of the reason I still listen to pop/punk is because literally every single pop/punk drummer is amazing, drumming so so fast every time. I also watch sports and speedrun streams, and one of the things that fascinates me is the maniacal drive to be great, this obsessive need to push yourself to some limit most would find unnecessary. So of COURSE I'm into a film which would marry the two, and which had the performance of a lifetime from JK Simmons, JK Simmons deserving all the plaudits he got for playing Malcom Tucker's long-lost American twin. I think Miles Teller was cat perfectly for the scenes where he's with JK Simmons, an arrogant nothing-boy who can convey talent and cluelessness, but Miles Teller is such a zero that the scenes with his family and girlfriend, where we're supposed to say "no nice boy don't isolate yourself from your loved ones to drum so good," just felt like "god shut the fuck up you whiny jerk." The film also didn't really address a couple of questions I thought might be relevant to the JK Simmons character. Does music still retain its meaning if you obsess over it to the extent that Fletcher does, do people still respond to his performances on an emotional level, or do they appreciate it on a purely technical level? There's that dinner scene, where someone in Miles Teller's family asks, "How can you have a music competition? Isn't it subjective?" and Miles Teller says, "No," but it never explores the idea of what chasing the parts of music which can be judged objective does to the music. The other question is, what right does Fletcher have to the next Charlie Parker? How does this white dude think he can own jazz? But I've spent more words finding what's problematic about the film than I did on what I liked, which is usually the sign of a great film, one I wanted to spend a lot of words thinking about.

[pastordorry-blog]

Balancing Accountability and Grace

Acts 4:32-5:11

Summer Series on Acts Week 5

July 7, 2019

         There are stories that end with, “And they all lived happily ever after.”  This is not one of those stories!  And it’s not just Ananias and Sapphira who die.  Acts chapter 5 marks a change in the book of Acts. Things in the early church were perfect for a time; and then something happened that would explain why things are not perfect for the rest of time.  It’s a little like how in the book of Genesis, everything is perfect until Adam and Eve eat from the forbidden tree—and all of sudden, that paradise teeming with life becomes a place where there is death.  The start of the Christian church has a parallel beginning. At the end of chapter four, Luke sums things up:   the early church is like the Garden of Eden at first.  Everything is perfect.  No one has any need.  People are coming to Christ and selling off their possessions, resulting in a Christian utopia.  All for one and one for all!

         But this utopia will not last.  Sin will change things, and on some level, sin always leads to death.  This week we will see how sin sometimes leads to the death of the sinner.  And next week we will talk about Stephen, and see how sin sometimes leads to the death of innocent victims. And every week for the rest of the summer, we will see how sin led to the death of the extraordinary sharing and perfection of the early church. Read it for yourself and see if you can find a place after Acts 5 where someone sells their property and the whole Christian community lives together in exquisite communion.  

To help us see the change, Luke employs the old “compare and contrast” technique.  In chapter four, he mentions a Levite named Joseph, who was so inspired by the early church and its radical caring that he sold a field he owned and brought all the money and put it at the apostles’ feet.  He was such a helpful person that the apostles gave him a new name: Barnabas, which means "son of encouragement."  Barnabas went on to do great things in the church.  We will read more about him later in Acts.

But right after Barnabus, Luke shifts gears and tells us about Ananias and Sapphira.  They sold a piece of property, and instead of laying all the money at the disciples’ feet like Barnabas, they withheld some for themselves.  And, instead of going on to do great things in the church, they were killed.

This story is incomprehensible to us.  Imagine if a husband and wife in our day sold their home and gave most of the proceeds to the church?  We'd be jumping up and down.  Say you sell your house for $150,000, and you give 2/3 to the church.  So you keep $50,000 for yourself.  Who cares?  You're still giving the church $100K!  That is a very generous gift. We would not know what to do with all that money if someone gave us a gift like that.  Not that we wouldn't figure it out, mind you.  That is one problem we would work on until we had it solved, that is for sure!

         But in the early church, there was a problem with Ananias and Sapphira's gift. People don't just drop dead on the spot for nothing.  For one thing, they seemed to miss the point of selling the property.  All for one and one for all only works if everyone puts in their all.  It's like the Hokey Pokey--you can put in an arm or a leg, but eventually you gotta put your whole self in.  Perhaps Ananias and Sapphira were hedging their bets to see if this church thing worked out.

         But in the meantime, they wanted it to appear as if they were all in.  I think that is the big issue here.  They lied to the church about the money.  They wanted to appear more generous and faithful than they really were.  They missed the memo, that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.  Ananias and Sapphira thought they were pulling one over on a bunch of people. But really they were lying to God. The church isn’t just a human organization.  It is the body of Christ.  There was more at stake here than they realized.

Okay, fine we say, it’s important not to lie to God. But did they really have to die?  Why not give Ananias and Sapphira a warning and a chance to repent?  Exactly one year ago—it was July 8, 2018--I stood before you and preached my first sermon at Lima.  In those early weeks together, we talked a lot about grace.  We learned about prevenient grace, this Wesleyan idea that the Holy Spirit is always out ahead of us, planting seeds, lubricating pathways, always at work for good, showering people with grace to help prepare them to receive Christ.  We talked about justifying grace, which puts us right with God.  When we receive Christ, it’s like we walk through the door to a new way of living, which we call the Christian life.  That is why there is a third kind of grace, sanctifying grace, which helps us learn and grow.  It carries us up the staircase toward maturity and fruitfulness.  Prevenient, justifying, and sanctifying grace.  Grace is the bedrock of our faith.  Which one of those kinds of grace would you say is at work in the story of Ananias and Sapphira?  It doesn’t seem to me that there is any grace in this story at all!

I think Luke gives us this story to illustrate how, because the church is made up of real people and lives in the real world, in addition to grace it will also have to be an agent of accountability.  The Church is the Body of Christ and thus is called to be holy!  Which is tricky because the people who make up the Church are sinners.  Throughout its entire history, and for as long as the Church shall live, it will have to wrestle with balancing grace and accountability. What should it do when people within the church family resist sanctification and allow sin to manifest itself?  What should we do with the unholy in our midst?

This is a hard question for us even now, even with 2,000 years of Church history and tradition under our belts.  This is hard question for us even now as United Methodists, with our 898-page Book of Discipline.  You’d think with a rule book that big there would be no more gray areas. But real life is complicated.  I have a clergy colleague who asked me for advice one time, because a young woman in the church was stealing money from people’s purses.  It took time to figure out who the thief was in the congregation, but now there were two separate eyewitnesses who weren’t sure what to do with what they say, so they went to the pastor.  The pastor knew this behavior could not go on unchallenged.  The thief would have to be held accountable. But the thief was the daughter of the choir director, who had been a member of the church for forty years and whose extended family and close friends made up about a fourth of the membership.  How could they be fair, firm—and diplomatic???.  

For whatever reason, God was not worried about being diplomatic or fair with Ananias and Sapphira.  They were struck dead for a pretty common sin, hypocrisy. We don’t know why, and that bothers us. But there’s something that bothers me even more.  Even if Ananias’ death was not preventable, what about Sapphira?  I am really upset that no one went out and found Sapphira and warned her. Luke tells that “great fear seized all who heard about Ananias”.  Maybe they were so afraid they were paralyzed.  We are supposed to love our neighbors as ourselves.  I know I’d appreciate it if someone gave me a heads up if I was about to get into big trouble.  Wouldn’t it be loving to go and find Sapphira and give her a chance to tell the truth? Maybe people too stunned to talk to her.  Or maybe they thought they should mind their own business.  We don’t know exactly what happened in those three hours between Ananias dying and Sapphira dying.  But we do know that, for the first time, death marred the new Christian community. And it seems to me that, metaphorically, sin has been causing “death” in the church ever since.

But I can’t be too hard on the people for not confronting Sapphira, because I am afraid of confrontation, too.  A few weeks ago, I went out to run a few errands on Sunday afternoon.  My first stop was the Lima post office, where I slid some bills and cards into the blue mailbox.  As I was walking back to my car, I noticed a man come out of the Lima Beverage, pull a beer from the case he just purchased, get in his car, and as he sat in the drivers’ seat, drink half a bottle of beer in one gulp.  He then put the bottle in his cup holder, buckled his seat belt, and drove away.  

It was a warm day but not hot, so we both had our car windows open.  I remember thinking to myself, should I walk over to him and say, hey, you can’t go around drinking and driving!  I remember thinking to myself, maybe I should call 911.  I remember thinking to myself, “But Dorry, you are on your way to do some shopping on a Sunday, and you are supposed to be observing the Sabbath!  Get the log out of your own eye before worrying about the speck in someone else’s!”  And I also remember thinking, “What is going on in his life that on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, he is in so much pain that he has to have half a beer right this second, he can’t even wait the five minutes until he gets home?”  

I had never seen that man before.  I had no personal responsibility to him, but I do have a responsibility to my community, so I prayed that he would get home safely and not injure himself or anyone else on the way home.  But it left me feeling powerless and sad.  Even if that man’s “sin” didn’t lead to any kind of harm or death as he drove home, witnessing it made me die a little inside.  I think this is our human condition.  Reading the book of Acts, it blows my mind that people were willing to sell their land and give all the money to the church—but not a single person was willing to go and tell Sapphira to get her act together.  It just goes to show, holding each other accountable is the hardest thing we have to do in church.

But look at the consequences if we don’t.  When sin persists, there is always some kind of death!  Last week, when we read about how Peter and John were called out by the authorities for healing the lame man, they were very clear in saying that is wasn’t their power that healed the man, it was God’s power.  It was the name of Jesus that healed him.  But in our story today, Luke never says whose power killed Ananias and Sapphira. It’s hard to imagine they were killed by God’s power, because we trust God to always use God’s power for good. It’s hard to image them being killed by the apostles.  We all know that expression, “If looks could kill”, but I don’t think any of us believe there is a dirty look in the world dirty enough to kill someone!  

I think Luke never names the power that killed Ananias and Sapphira because there is no need to name it.  When we separate ourselves from God, a kind of death occurs. Death is never God’s intentional will—but it is the natural consequence of violating God’s will.  “The wages of sin is death”, the apostle Paul would later write.  Every one of us, we can name ways our sinfulness has hurt the church.  We have not always trusted.  We have not always tithed.  We have wanted to appear better than we are.  We have not always done what is right.  We have not always been courageous.  Our sins have hurt the church.  We have sinned and been sinned against.  This is the truth.  I started this sermon by saying, “There are stories that end with everyone lives happily ever after.  This is not one of those stories.”  The Church has suffered and died both literally and metaphorically from sin from its earliest days.  

And yet the church survives and thrives.  That is, I think, where the grace is in this story. The church is God’s agency for life. It is not just another human organization.  It is the Body of Christ, drawn together and held together by the Spirit of the Living God!  And because of that, the church is resilient.  The church marches on.  We are here today in this church, Christians are gathered everywhere on this day, as a living testament to God’s amazing grace.  

As we come to the table today, let us do so with praise and thanksgiving for the Prevenient Grace that drew us here, the Justifying Grace that forgives and restores us, and the Sanctifying grace, that is working in us and moving us toward perfection.  In the name of Jesus and for his sake, Amen.

[live4thelord-blog1]

The Gospel Train Reaches Temptation Station – Stay on Board, Children! A Homily for the First Sunday of Lent

There’s an old gospel song tradition that speaks of the Christian life as a ride on the “gospel train.” The gospel train is not always an easy ride with perfect scenery, but you’ve gotta get your ticket and stay on board.

Mysteriously, the train sometimes passes through difficult terrain, but just stay on board! On His way to glory, Jesus faced trials, hatred, and even temptation (yet without sinning).

Today the gospel train pulls into “Temptation Station” and we are asked to consider some of life’s temptations. The three temptations faced by Jesus are surely on wide display in our own times. What are these temptations and how do we resist them?

In this desert scene, the Lord Jesus faces down three fundamental areas of temptation, all of which have one thing in common: they seek to substitute a couch for the cross.

In a way, the devil has one argument: “Why the cross?” His question is a rhetorical one. He wants you to blame God for the cross, and in your anger, to reject Him as some sort of despot.

Well, pay attention, Church! The cross comes from the fact that you and I, ratifying Adam and Eve’s choice, have rejected the tree of life in favor of the tree that brought death. We, along with the devil, may wish to wince at the cross and scornfully blame God for it, but in the end the cross was our choice.

If you think that you have never chosen the tree of death and that God is “unfair,” then prove to me that you have never sinned. Only if you can do that will I accept that you have never chosen the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil over the Tree of Life and that you deserve something better than the cross. Only then will I accept that you have never insisted on “knowing” evil as well as good.

If you can’t, then you’ve made the same self-destructive, absurd choice that the rest of us have. It is not God that is cruel but we who are wicked and are to blame for the presence of the cross. The cross comes not from God but from us. We ought to stop blaming God for evil, suffering, and the cross, and instead look in the mirror. The glory of this gospel is that the Lord Jesus came into this twisted world of our making and endured its full absurdity for our sake. If there is evil in this world, it is our choice, not God’s.

Have we finished blaming God? Are we ready to focus on our own issues? If so then let’s look at some areas of temptation that the devil can exploit because we indulge them. Let’s also see the answer that the Lord Jesus has for these temptations; for He, though tempted, never yielded.

Pleasures and Passions – The devil encourages Jesus to turn stones into bread. After such a long fast, the thought of bread is surely a strong temptation. In effect, the devil tells Jesus to “scratch where it itches,” to indulge His desire, to give in to what His body craves.

We, too, have many desires and are told by the devil in many ways to “scratch where it itches.” Perhaps no generation before has faced such strong temptation. We live in a consumer culture that is highly skilled at eliciting and then satisfying our every desire. All day long, we are bombarded with advertisements that arouse desire and then advise us that we simply must fulfill those desires. If something is out of stock or unavailable in exactly the way we want at the instant we want it, we are indignant. Why should I have to wait? Why can’t I have it in that color? The advertiser’s basic message is that you can have it all. This is a lie, of course, but it is told so frequently that we feel entitled to just about everything.

Some of our biggest cultural problems are ones stemming from overindulgence. We are a culture that struggles with obesity, addiction, sexual misconduct, and greed. We experience overstimulation that robs us of a reasonable attention span; boredom is a significant issue for many who are too used to the frantic pace of video games and action movies. We have done well in turning stones into bread.

Jesus rebukes the devil, saying, Man does not live on bread alone. In other words, there are things that are just more important than bread and circuses, than creature comforts and indulgence. Elsewhere Jesus says, A man’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions (Lk 12:15). I have written further on this in another post: The Most Important Things in Life Aren’t Things.

Popularity and Power – Taking Jesus up a high mountain, the devil shows Him all the nations and people of the earth and promises them to Him if Jesus will but bow down and worship him. This is a temptation to both power and popularity; the devil promises Jesus not only sovereignty but glory.

Because most of us are not likely to become sovereigns and because temptation is only strong in those matters that seem remotely possible for us, I will focus instead on popularity—something we deal with regularly in this life. One of the deeper wounds in our soul is the extreme need that most of us have to be liked, to be popular, to be respected, and to fit in. We dread being laughed at, scorned, or ridiculed. We cannot stand the thought of feeling minimized in any way.

For many people the desire for popularity is so strong that they’ll do almost anything to attain it. It usually starts in youth, when peer pressure “causes” young people to do many foolish things. They may join gangs, get tattoos, pierce their bodies, and/or wear outlandish clothes. Many a young lady, desperate to have a boyfriend (and thus feel loved and/or impress her friends), will sleep with boys or do other inappropriate things in order to gain that “love.” As we get older, we might be tempted to bear false witness, to make “compromises” to advance our career, to lie to impress others, to spend money we don’t have to buy things we don’t really need, and/or to try to impress people whom we don’t even like. Likewise, we may be tempted to be silent when we should speak out for what is right.

All of this is a way of bowing before the devil, because it demonstrates that we are willing to sin in order to fit in, to advance, or to be popular. Jesus says, You shall worship the Lord, your God, and him alone shall you serve.

The real solution to this terrible temptation of popularity is to fear the Lord. When we fear God, we need fear no one else. If I can kneel before God I can stand before any man. If God is the only one we need to please, then we don’t have to expend effort trying to please anyone else. I have written more on this matter elsewhere: What Does It Mean to Fear the Lord?.

Presumption and Pride – Finally (for now) the devil encourages Jesus to test God’s love for Him by casting Himself off the highest wall of the Temple Mount. Does not Scripture say that God will rescue Him? The devil quotes Psalm 91: With their hands they will support you, lest you dash your foot against a stone. In our time the sin of presumption is epidemic.

Many people think that they can go one behaving sinfully, recklessly, and wantonly and that they will never face punishment. “God is love,” they boldly say. “He would never send people to Hell or punish them!” In saying this, they reject literally thousands of verses of Scripture that say otherwise; they have refashioned God and worship a man-made idol. “God doesn’t care whether I go to Church,” they claim. “He doesn’t mind if I live with my girlfriend.” The list of things God “doesn’t mind” continues to grow.

The attitude seems to be that no matter what I do, God will save me. It is presumptuous to speak or think like this. Hell and punishment are surely difficult teachings to fully comprehend and to reconcile with God’s patience and mercy, but He teaches of them and therefore we need to stop pretending He doesn’t.

I have written elsewhere on the topic of Hell and why it makes sense in the context of a God who loves and respects us: Hell Has to Be.

A mitigated form of presumption is procrastination, wherein we constantly put our return to the Lord out of our mind. About this tendency it is said,

There were three demons summoned by Satan as to their plan to entrap as many human beings as possible. The first demon announced that he would tell them there is no God. But Satan wasn’t too impressed. “You’ll get a few, but not many and even those atheists are mostly lying and know deep down inside that someone greater than they made them and all things.” The second demon said he would tell them there is no devil. But Satan said, “That won’t work, most of them have already met me and know my power.” Finally, the third demon said, “I will not tell them there is no God or no devil, I will simply tell them there is no hurry!” And Satan smiled an ugly grin and said, “You’re the man!”

Jesus rebukes the devil by quoting Deuteronomy: You shall not put the Lord, your God, to the test. We ought to be very careful about presumption, for it is widespread today.

This does not mean that we have to retreat into fear and scrupulosity. God loves us and is rich in mercy, but we cannot willfully go on calling “no big deal” what He calls sin. We should be sober about sin and call on the Lord’s mercy rather than doubting that we that really need it or just presuming that He doesn’t mind.

The train is leaving the station soon. I hope that we’ve all benefited from this brief stop and have stored up provisions for the journey ahead: insight, resolve, appreciation, understanding, determination, and hope.

The journey ahead is scenic but difficult and temptation is a reality, but as an old gospel song says, “The gospel train’s comin’, I hear it just at hand. I hear the car wheel rumblin’ and rollin’ thro’ the land. Get on board little children, get on board. There’s room for many more!”

[debrahlabanganasblog]

The Chronicles Of A Millennial FLASHLIGHTS & HASHTAGS Hey Kings and Queens👑 If you can not evolve, or tee-hee and be intimate with life itself...😏I suggest you charge, aim and BOOM! shoot because you, yes YOU are holding a loaded gun. That gun is the whole of who you are in all aspects of life, mentally, spiritually, physically and emotionally. That gun is everything you consume via all chronicles of your journey to date. So today this blog is titled "Flashlights&Hashtags" is about the bits and pieces of the limelight and it's hype that I have experienced and unexpectedly😨. So I was 19 when I got my first job,yay!🙌. It was in a city approximately 45 minutes with a plane or 4-6 hours in a coach or a car, surely miles away from my hometown koBulawayo. It was in Harare, the capital city, a city where people barely sleep. It's a hustle thing all day everyday. Guess where I had to work, the Zimbabwe Broadcasting Coperation-ZBC Television as a presenter for the popular teen show on ZBC according to reports that time. IMAGINE: " #YGT Catch me on telly right now, you know it's about to get lit. " 😂😂😂 Everywhere on Twitter, Facebook, Flipagram, Instagram, Snapchat, you name it! 😨Issa hectic life but we love it anyway. #FlashlightAndHashtags I was taken by surprise by God, I can not say I have always dreamt of being on TV from a younger age,NO. It was just a fantasy I believed will die once I turn 16😂. All I dreamt of was being that girl who talks on radio, writes on the magazines, comes out on the paper, and just a girl who will come out on telly being interviewed with my summer couture or something. But alas, God always has more, always has more for us and it's silly how we forget the prayers we share with God, we are then shook when He does His thing at His time and BOOM! Wow😍 OMG! I remember a neighbour, Makhabo who once caught me watching the show I got to be a presenter on (Young,Gifted&Talented-YGT every Sunday&&some Wednesdays then) and laughed at how I was so intrigued, I didn't see it and jokingly I would say: "I will get there my friend" "It's hard to get on that show, only if you are Shona,there are very few Ndebeles there" I looked at her and said "That does not matter, I'm getting there despite my tribe" Not only that, I told God about it but the deepest of my desires was to be on radio, THAT! I so wanted. And look what God did? Who am I not to say that I'm highly favoured? God entertains our dreams and He works amazing with those that are underestimated, dejected, or I'll treated. He gave me both(Radio&TV) on a break now but hey, He is God, He is faithful and He will do it😍 After all that, I still had my head rest on my shoulders perfectly. The spotlight can make or break you. You choose. Could it be that I somehow did not see myself becoming a TV presenter at that time, such that becoming one humbled me even more? My mindset could have developed immensely from what I consume? One thing I believe is that an individual eventually develops into who they are supposed to be in alignment with God's purpose and calling specifically for them. The best thing is to remain humble. It is important that one remembers where they come from, who they are, who they want to be, what they are capable of, what they really want, their worth and value, principles, and what they are not. Flashlights and Hashtags as I would like to title it, can attract unnecessary attention, both good and bad. It's up to you to choose, however, in cases where you are a naive teenage girl or boy a lot of people can take advantage of you, it's important to always know who you want to be, your values and stay close to God. He will guide you and will never forsake you. I had 4 painful years of LIVE broadcasting at ZBC (2012-2016), great four years of television knowledge. I had to choose either to quit or be there and learn. I couldn't quit even if I tried to. I felt like a I had a responsibility already. I felt like there was that one girl from Bulawayo that needed me to represent the tribe, to allow God to reveal that IT IS POSSIBLE,IT CAN BE DONE. And to think that i did not bring myself to Harare(rolling eyes), YES ,I believed so, God took me to Harare, and YES I had to follow the instruction. It was not easy, those where the most challenging years😨, i quit almost twice, 😂. During that time I even had the deepest conversations with self, and questioned young Debra... "Lord, why am I suffering like this?" "Ok, cool if not me then whom would I want to face this?" "But God ,You brought me here, You are my Shepherd,You will keep me" "Do I really want fame👀,well Zimbabwe barely has the typical standards of fame anyway" "But do I want to be known? " ...well,yes but to be known for positive things in life and lead a better life than this one😠,I said to myself. Trust me, I asked myself all sorts of questions. It's now that I look back and see the Mighty hand of God in my life. All that pain was temporary and of all the things I'm proud of, I HAVE MYSELF TOGETHER🙌! I mean I'm really proud of the young lady I have become and I worked hard to become her. I went through quite some stuff. And as long as I have not yet reached where God wants me to be, I'm equipped to face any other hardships that might pop up because I know God is my Rock. I'm grateful to not have turned out to be a mess during those years, it was God. He offered me wisdom i could not even pay for. I'm eternally grateful. I don't even have a year off TV to date and i speak like its been ages 😂😂😂 Well, it feels long and many a times I'm only reminded by people in the streets of Harare who murmur or shout: " KaBabe kemuTV." I'm a very shy person and I can't believe how I did it. God😥. He set omens, for me to follow in line to find my personal legend? That's just me and some Paulo Coelho's philosophy😎. I have learnt that many a times in life what we love the most is not what God has prepared us for ,there is more to it. It all leads to our calling. The year 2017 has been eventful so far, no challenges I couldn't deal with, maybe I could say my radio experience LIVE on air was so short, I had not finished my business with the guy called Microphone😂. Regardless, behind the scenes(and bits of on air) has been great, so great you have no idea, and to think that this is me saying this. It's peaceful. I used to sleep with the radio set next to my pillow. I was an addict, diverse music,building conversations and all other things radio spoke to my soul differently I'm in a happy space and at peace with all the events that have happened in my life. God is faithful. He will speak and it will come to pass. I know my calling now and thanks to the years of supernatural schooling from a King so Great, God. Above everything else, I have no intention of "being famous", asking myself that question was a great highlight in my life. The question popped up again this year hey, and from the deepest parts of my heart, I find myself saying NO. WHY? You might ask...well, here is my answer: "I just want to live my life and be myself in every way possible. I just want to be me, do me , do my thing, explore, discover, nurture, and CREATE great things. I just want to give someone hope. Somebody gotta stand up one day and say,BECAUSE OF DEBRA,I DID NOT GIVE UP. I just want to live the life of my dreams and I'm glad I took the first step towards that goal some time ago." So if that would make me famous, then aaaah, I won't stop it. I would be happy to give you something positively challenging in all aspects every millisecond ,second, minute, hour, day, weeks, months or years. And just shine brighter even if it burns my body😂😂😂 Well, I hope you enjoyed this blog post, Flashlights&Hashtags. Until next time, stay lit and don't let the world tell you otherwise.😘 Love Just DebbieH❤ #EmbraceYou #TheChroniclesOfAMillennial