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madamewriterofwrongs · 3 years ago

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Sending you all my hugs 🥰🥰🥰😍 How about...Buddie having the time of their lives being absolute shit at arcade games.

I remember I asked for fluffy prompts the night my boss passed away. That was months ago but I did not forget. Thank you everyone who sent me prompts while I was processing some tough emotions.

911/Buddie

1v1 Co-op Matchmaking

Read on Ao3

“Are you sure this is the place?” Eddie tried to peer through one of the windows with the scratched off signage but the tinted glass made it impossible to see anything beyond vague shapes in evenly marked spaces.

“Absolutely.” Buck joined him in looking through the glass but seemed to be satisfied with what he saw there. “I found this place my first year in L.A.” He went on to explain as Eddie followed him to the blacked out double doors. “I promise you’re going to love it.”

As with most things in Eddie’s life, he had no choice but to follow his partner. He entered first, a blast of cool air hitting his face, bringing with it the scent of French fries and old pennies. Beyond the sound of whirs and buzzes was quiet chatter and the occasional exclamation of excitement or disappointment (usually accompanied by a string of barely recognizable curses – no doubt, due to the ‘No Swearing’ sign hanging on the cash register in the corner). All around him were a collection of game machines in nearly straight aisles reaching several rows down and across. Interspersed between the machines were tables and chairs with folded signs informing guests that food and drinks were not to be taken to the game machines.

“It’s an arcade.” Eddie dumbly informed his friend.

Buck stood beside him, chest puffed with pride as he examined the terrain. “One of the last in the city that hasn’t been overrun by hipsters.”

“So you’re saying you found this place before it was cool?” Eddie strolled towards the register knowing Buck would be glaring at him all the way. As predicted, Buck paid for both of them and converted twenty dollars into quarters for the two of them two split.

“Oh, this place is old school.” Eddie, once again, exclaimed the obvious while pocketing his share of the coins. “How did you find this place?” he asked as they wandered the aisles looking for their first game. “I didn’t think you would be old enough to remember ‘Ms. Pacman’.”

Buck bumped his shoulder with a playful gasp. “You are being so mean to me today.” He chided before falling more somber. “When I first moved here and started training, I needed a place to study. I had, like, six roommates so there was no way I could concentrate there. So, I wandered around looking for something a little less chaotic and I found this place.”

“And this place was quieter than your house?” Eddie hadn’t lived with roommates in a few years – not since his army days – but he couldn’t imagine one house being that overwhelming.

“No.” Buck rolled his eyes at Eddie’s internal monologue. “I ended up at the library a few blocks away. But I came here once or twice when I needed to get out of the house. Obviously, work keeps me pretty busy, but I like coming here from time to time.”

All of it made sense, but Eddie heard the softness in his friend’s tone, the way he spoke about this place as though it were something precious. He was being handed a gift and he would not turn it down.

“Thank you for sharing it with me.” When Buck looked up at his partner through long eyelashes (when did he start noticing Buck’s eyelashes?), Eddie felt goosebumps rise and wash down his body. Like awakening from a long nap, his limbs tingled and he felt every step as they continued their journey to find the perfect game.

It wasn’t the first time he felt that flash of lightning through his veins at the sight of his friend – he was a single man and his partner was very attractive – but it had been happening more often than he cared to admit. Noticing the little details of Buck’s appearance (his eyelashes, for example) was new. Feeling his heart beat faster and his skin burn with a desire he hadn’t felt in a long time…was less new. In fact, Eddie was nearly ready to put a label on the feelings stirring in his chest.

Last winter, when his sisters were visiting and the three siblings got to have a big family dinner with all the cousins and aunts and uncles, he’d spent a little too long talking about Buck. Or, maybe, Christopher had. Either way, Sophia managed to corner him in the kitchen after dessert had knocked out the majority of the children, and asked Eddie how long he’d been with Buck. Romantically. It was sometime after midnight (and a bottle of wine between the three of them) that Eddie finally admitted to both of his sisters that he had feelings for his best friend. Adriana had cooed and asked if Buck felt the same and, on some tipsy instinct, he’d answered “Yes.”

Of course, he didn’t know for certain – he’d never come out and said “Hey, Buck, I want to bend you over the railing and then grow old with you. What do you say?” – but he knew Buck. He knew Buck better than anyone (Maddie might give him a run for his money, but he’s fairly certain there’s a few stories Buck hasn’t told his sister about his time travelling the country). When that man loved, he loved with all his heart, and Eddie figured out a long time ago that Buck had given at least part of himself to the Diaz boys. Why not his heart?

So, yes, Eddie had a pretty good idea of how he felt, and was nearly certain that Buck felt the same way. And now, they were standing in an arcade – the location of which Buck hadn’t shared with anyone else in his life – occasionally making extended eye contact through the aisles. It wasn’t a matter of ‘if’. It was a matter of ‘when’.

So now, when not staring longingly into his friend’s eyes, Eddie scanned the names listed above each game. Some of the names were ones he recognized (‘Frogger’, ‘Pacman’, the aforementioned ‘Ms. Pacman’, ‘Centipede’). Others, were less familiar (‘Inferno’, ‘Dig Dug’, ‘1942’) and looked…confusing. His eye caught on a ‘Space Invaders’-looking game and he called his partner to his side.

“Want to be a member of the ‘Moon Patrol’?” He bumped Buck’s shoulder with the smile he reserved just for his friend, and dug for a quarter.

“Nope!” Buck declared as he retrieved his own quarter and inserted it into the appropriate slot, bumping Eddie out of the way so he could stand centered at the controls. “I call first game!”

Though he rolled his eyes in annoyance, Eddie took the loss as an opportunity to watch his partner work. He loved watching Buck work (nearly as much as he enjoyed working beside him). There were times when the man’s focus was hypnotizing. The firm set of his jaw, the piercing eyes that seemed unblinking, the way every part of his body tensed in concentration. He’d seen Buck excited, anxious, worried, panicked, even numb – when it came to the uncontrollable dangers of their job, they had been through a lot together. Every emotion showed Eddie how much his friend cared about his work.

This expression, however, was one he doubted many other members of the Los Angeles Fire Department had seen on the young firefighter. It was one Eddie had been privy to on more than one occasion when Christopher had brought over a particularly difficult puzzle or science question. He wasn’t sure he was ever meant to see it but he happened to be standing in the doorway after putting away leftovers from dinner and he’d seen it: the desire to win, the earnest focus, the eagerness and seriousness of his intent. The first time he saw, it was an accident. Every other time he rushed to finish his chores whenever he thought that face might emerge… that was less of an accident.

He was pulled from his fond musings by a minor key jingle and light-hearted groan of disappointment.

“Only got to Point Q on the Champion Course.” Buck exclaimed, throwing his hands in defeat.

Eddie couldn’t help himself – or at least, that’s what he told himself. His partner was too genuine. But that was one of his favourite things about the man. Where Eddie could usually keep his outward appearance neutral in the face of adversity (a skill he’d used nearly every day since joining the LAFD), Buck never shied away from letting his face show just exactly what was on his mind – even if he never said anything.

And so, Eddie laughed. Only a small chuckle, but his heart never felt so light as when he was with Buck. It was easy to see, however, that his laugh could be misconstrued as mocking. Perhaps it was both.

“Think you can do better?” The newly-defeated champion bowed and offered the center position to his friend and Eddie stepped into place with another fond eyeroll (he made a mental note to ask his optometrist if too many eyerolls could cause nerve damage).

All right, Eddie thought as he tried to get a handle on the controls, so it wasn’t as easy as he thought. The joystick was rigid and the control pad was sticky and the graphics were definitely from an era long-passed. If he hadn’t been raised with an infinite amount of patience (according to his aunt), he might have given up. As it was, he died before reaching the first checkpoint.

Buck’s laughter could not be interpreted as anything other than mocking, and he didn’t bother to hide it. “You are truly terrible.” He informed Eddie with a slap on the shoulder.

Though he knew he didn’t need an excuse, it was too easy to play when Buck was around. “I’m used to the console at home. Unlike some people, I don’t spend my time playing with technology from the Reagan-era.”

“Well then let me show you.” Before Eddie could properly interpret Buck’s offer, the man had come to stand behind him, chin hovering over his shoulder, arms palming his elbows and guiding him back towards the console. “One more round.” Buck declared, enthusiastically. At his prompting, Eddie gripped the joystick and placed his hands just above the cluster of buttons on his left side. The now-familiar starting music began and Eddie focused all of his energy into game before him. Every few moments, he heard Buck mutter a command or offer advice and he took it without question. The joystick was still rigid and the buttons were still sticky but together, they made it to the second checkpoint. And then the third. By the fourth, Eddie had all but forgotten the world around them. The only things that existed were Eddie, the game, and Buck’s voice in his ear. It was soothing, almost, to fall into that rhythm. So long as he navigated the bumpy terrain and dodged the alien invasion, nothing else mattered.

Until he missed jumping over a landmine and was blown to smithereens.

“Damn!” Buck’s voice was suddenly too close. The air around him electrified on an exhale and the heat of his chest warmed Eddie to his core. As quickly as the world had fallen away in Buck’s arms, it came rushing back, more vibrant and alive than before. Every sound of electronics whirring, Buck’s steady breathing, and people shouting – even the rumble of the cars outside the arcade – was amplified. Every smell of old metal, sweat, and smoke hidden under Buck’s aftershave was overwhelming. Every touch of his scratchy jeans, the clammy plastic in his hand, and the warm presence at his back, made Eddie close his eyes to shut out one of his senses. The only one left was taste.

Buck and Eddie had held each other plenty of times over the years. They were partners and friends who worked in close contact with one another. At the end of a hard day, in the middle of a daring rescue, at the beginning of a heated glance as they stood in front of a game machine. They had shaken hands, hugged tightly, gripped for dear life at the edge of a cliff, even bumped shoulders often enough that he had a Buck-shaped indent near his heart. But standing in this loose hold – the other man’s arms barely brushing his, his back pressed against the other’s front – Eddie had never felt the overwhelming urge to taste more fervently than he did in that moment.

He knew that Buck was an attractive man – he was repressed, he wasn’t dead – and though he’d been contemplating thinking about maybe working up to taking some next step, he hadn’t counted on standing in Buck’s arms and feeling his heart flutter like a school girl with a crush.

Upon slowly dragging his eyes to meet his friend’s Eddie found himself breathlessly overtaken by the sensation of hope. Buck’s eyes were bright and round (earnest, just as he’d known them to be) His eyelashes closed and opened slowly, seemingly disbelieving of his circumstance. If Eddie knew Buck as well as he hoped he did, then there was a question in his friend’s eyes that was begging to be asked. A question Eddie was more than happy to answer.

“We make a pretty good team.” He felt his own breath reverberate off of Buck’s cheek and it stuttered in time with his heart.

“I’ve always thought so.” Buck’s lips twitched with suppressing a smile.

Then, came the moment of truth. Eddie felt a brief flicker of panic as he took one last breath before diving in.

“What should we do about it?”

In reality, Buck only contemplated his response for a few seconds but for Eddie, the silence stretched for years – three years, in fact. He felt the world move in slow motion and within it, he watched as Buck’s face flicked with a thousand emotions: fear, anxiety, excitement, contentment, desire, hope, doubt; finally, he settled on quiet happiness.

“I think we need to find a game we can play together. As partners. What do you say?”

As if there were any other response, Eddie smiled at Buck. “Partners.”

The rest of their time at the arcade was locked away, inaccessible to even Eddie, who recalled nothing more than laughter and flirtatious eye contact as they made their way through the aisles of games. At the end of the night, Eddie would get down the block before turning back to Buck’s door. He would run a nervous hand through his hair while he knocked with the other, and waited for the answer. And then, he would blush as he asked if Buck wanted to go on a date with him tomorrow. Buck would blush harder and assure Eddie that he would happily attend, but warn that he no longer kissed on the first date.

But maybe on their second date tomorrow, he’d get lucky.

#911 on fox #911 fox #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie fic #911 fic #getting together #dorks in love #mutual pining #flirting over games #cj writes things #cj answers things #zeethebooknerd #love zee

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shutupanakin · 3 years ago

Text

Wasting Your Time ch. 6

“Wh— what?” Tommy choked out, his voice hoarse from the lack of use all day.

The man rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t just ask a completely impolite question. “I said, do you have any booze?”

Tommy sat still. He reached into his jacket pocket, his hand finding only a plastic pen. Could he stab this man with a plastic pen?

Tommy pulled said piece of plastic out, visibly holding it up. “I have a pen.” Something about the bemused look on the man's face made Tommy click it, and again, repeatedly.

click click click click click click click click—

...

or; Tommy planned on dying. He meets Wilbur instead.

first chapter here crossposted on ao3 here

Tommy was humming to The Beatles when the train arrived. He was tapping his leg to the beat with his index and middle finger. Tommy had Yellow Submarine doing loops in his head since he had heard it the morning Sam had taken him to his classes.

Tommy wasn’t alone on the platform— a man that had to be around Sam’s age was there with him, meters away from an elder woman. Not the same one from that first night. The woman who carried the ruby red purse had white hair; the woman now was simply salt and pepper colored.

When the doors clicked open, Tommy resumed his spot in the back. They both sat separately at the front, not glancing back at Tommy. Tommy resumed his tapping, this time his knuckles against the metal beneath the window.

Tommy had started his new classes yesterday. He and Sam had spent the last week working to change it, and guilt weighed down Tommy’s chest thinking about the hours Sam had racked up on the phone. He had assured Tommy that it was okay, to not worry about it.

His schedule was different now, because of the change. He had some classes tomorrow, although they were luckily not in the morning. Tommy would have hated to have to set up another day with Wilbur— that would be inconvenient, for the both of them. The nights during the weekend on the tube line were busier, it was one of the reasons why Tommy had initially chosen Tuesday.

Wilbur was also well… Wilbur . Tommy could hear his grumblings if they were to change the day. Tommy wondered the length of the monologue that he could spring from that.

The man had glanced back at Tommy, a disgruntled look on his face. Tommy and he made eye contact for a brief second before Tommy’s eyes shot down, the rhythm that he had fallen into fading.

Tommy’s cheeks burned, that was embarrassing. Tommy didn’t think he was being that loud, at least not enough to warrant such a disapproving look from a stranger.

He was just a stranger. Someone who Tommy will never have to see again , Tommy reminded himself, in a voice that almost sounded similar to Wilbur’s, so who cares?

Tommy thinks back to the woman with the red purse, and the man, and the countless strangers that Tommy had passed and received odd looks from in the past few weeks.

So who cares?

Tommy decided that he didn’t.

Tommy resumed his tapping, a smug look settling on his face. The man only turned around once in annoyance to see Tommy’s expression.

By the time the train had started slowing for Wilbur’s stop, Tommy’s tapping was accompanied by humming. Maybe after his classes tomorrow Tommy could pull the dusty keyboard out of his closet. Tommy remembered the chords, despite his recent disuse of it. Maybe Tommy could pull some sheet music from google.

Sam got home after Tommy, whether or not Tommy was picked up by Ranboo’s cousin or he had taken the bus home. Because of their conflicting schedules, Tommy could do this without obnoxiously disturbing Sam when he had UNI work.

Tommy wondered if he could convince Wilbur to bring his guitar, one of these days. Tommy remembered that he said he didn’t make music anymore, but Tommy was a consistent nagger. He was sure he could press Wilbur into it.

He never gave a reason why , Wilbur didn’t give much of a reason why he did anything.

Metallic doors slid open, and Wilbur entered. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of his coat, head tilted down. Wilbur’s round-rimmed glasses looked like they were about to fall off the bridge of his nose.

He was frowning.

Not in a disapproving way, like the one he would sometimes give Tommy.

Any thought of music, or pestering Wilbur to bring his guitar died on Tommy’s tongue.

“You okay?” Tommy asked, Wilbur taking his seat next to Tommy.

Wilbur rubbed at his temples. “Headache,” He replied.

“Oh,” Tommy said. “I’ll try to keep my Tommy-ness on the down-low for today, just for you big dubbs.”

“Do not do that,” Wilbur advised, waving him off. “I am fine, ” He emphasized. “Why does the guy upfront look like he wants to strangle you?” Wilbur asked, gesturing to the same man who had been glaring at Tommy.

Tommy snorted. “Oh, now he got annoyed by my Tommy-ness.”

“What did you do?” As an answer, Tommy started tapping on the metal beneath the window again.

“Just that, ” Tommy scoffed. “And a bit of humming. Just enough to piss him off.”

Wilbur laughed, and Tommy grinned. There it was. “That is my boy! What song was it?” “Yellow Submarine,” Wilbur groaned.

“The Beatles?”

“ What ? Are you too good for the Beatles, Will?”

“I am,” Wilbur hummed in agreement.

They stopped, a nd the man got off. Tommy flipped him off as he left.

“Well I like them, you pretentious prick ,” Tommy scowled, Wilbur laughed. “So does Sam,”

“How is he?” Wilbur asked.

“Great, actually,” Tommy answered truthfully. “Took me to my new classes yesterday.”

“How are those going?”

“Fucking— better than Architecture .” Tommy scowled. “I’m not pulling my hair out or— or getting bored? Ya know? And Filmography is just so cool man. You’re gonna go to the theatres in a few years and see my name on the big screen.”

“Tommy,”

“And— and I probably will have to take Tubbo as my plus one, ya know. Or Sam. Probably Sam—”

“Tommy—”

“Oh don’t worry big man,” Tommy waved. “I’ll get you in. Special ticket just for you! I’m the director , they can’t say no to me, ya know. And if they do I’ll—”

“ Tommy, ” Wilbur said a final time, cutting Tommy off mid ramble. His frown was back, and Tommy snapped his mouth shut. He got lost in his rambling, forgetting about Wilbur’s headache.

“Sorry,” Tommy said, his voice lowered. “I forgot about your headache, I’ll tone it down so—”

Wilbur waved his hand. “It is not that, do not worry. You are fine.”

Tommy pursed his lips. “Are you fine?”

Wilbur hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, I am fine.”

They stopped, no one on or off.

Tommy deepened his own frown. “Are you sure? I’m not— well, you , but I’d like to think I’m pretty observant, ya know. A few years ago Tubbo broke his arm when he fell on it during football, ya know. And I knew before him that it was broken. Absolute moron, he—”

“Tommy,”

Tommy could’ve slapped himself. “Sorry.”

“Do not apologize,” Wilbur sighed, rubbing his face. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

They’ve had this conversation already, Tommy remembered. So he just swallowed, and said; “Okay.”

“I do have a question, though,” Wilbur finally said. Tommy pulled at the thread.

“Yeah?”

Wilbur sighed. Whatever the man was trying to ask, he was visibly struggling. He pinched the bridge of his nose, adjusting his glasses.

“Why did you want to kill yourself, Tommy?” Oh, directly on the nose, right to the face, Tommy thinks.

He could have worded that better, Tommy groaned internally.

“That’s a loaded question, big man,” Tommy laughed nervously. “Haven’t— haven’t we spent the last few weeks… I don’t know… going over that?”

“Refresher? If you— for my sake of mind,” Wilbur said.

“I… I guess it’s because of how shitty… everything felt, yeah? It was going so shitty with Tubbo and Ranboo, and Sam. And I was about to flunk out, and I hated it, yeah? I felt so trapped. But it’s not like that anymore? My friends listen , and Sam is trying and I know that he cares.”

Tommy didn’t add the it’s because of you, you did that , because he knew Wilbur enough that he would shut him down.

“Do you still want to?” Wilbur finally asked.

That was also a loaded question. Something in the air tonight must’ve made Wilbur feel more emo, to be asking all these questions.

Did Tommy want to?

“No.” Tommy decided, and it felt like the truth.

Wilbur was looking at him. Tommy focused on the thread. He didn’t like it when Wilbur looked at him so sadly.

They stopped again— Tommy didn’t bother looking up to see if anyone came on or exited.

“Why do you still come to see me?”

“Because you’re my friend, Will?”

Tommy looked up to see Wilbur’s expression soften.

It was a stupid question, Tommy thinks. Tommy could be well into his thirties he thinks, and he would still come to see Wilbur. He could be directing the next big blockbuster and he would still come and see Wilbur.

Wilbur did something unexpected— his arms wrapped his arms around Tommy, being pulled into a hug . It should’ve been awkward, with the angle and both of them sitting down, but it felt nice. It felt right.

“Can you promise me something?” Wilbur says.

“Mm-hm,” Tommy hums against Wilbur’s black jumper. Considering that he wore this stupid Reagan and Bush jumper every time Tommy saw him, it didn’t smell bad. It didn’t smell at all .

“Promise me that you will not jump.”

Tommy furrowed his eyebrows, he thought they were past that. “What?”

“Just promise.” Wilbur pushed.

“Okay,” Tommy says. “I won’t jump. I promise.” He pulled out of Wilbur’s arms. “Besides, can't you have you losing your only friend.”

The sound Wilbur made was between a scoff and a laugh. “Oh, you child .”

Tommy snickered. “No, no, I get it. I’m too important to lose! You would be ever so lonely .”

“I have friends, Tommy,” Wilbur said, exasperated.

“Yes,” Tommy agreed. “You have me .”

“I also have Niki , and occasionally Jack—”

“Occasionally?” Tommy asked. “You still haven’t explained why you’re banned.”

“It is not important,” Wilbur said. Their stop was coming up— maybe Tommy could ask Manifold what happened, maybe he would be more willing. “Do not theorize on it too much.”

Tommy stood up with Wilbur. He didn’t need to shake his leg awake, thankfully.

“Oh I’m theorizing big dubbs,” Tommy said, exiting the train with Wilbur.

“And what are your theories?”

Tommy blinked. “I’ve got nothing.” He admitted. “That’s the point of theorizing, Will. I’m getting there.”

“I am sure you will.”

“Do not condescend me.”

“I am not!”

“ Memememe I’m sure you will �� you are. You dickhead!” Tommy pointed a finger accusingly.

“You child.” Wilbur jabbed light-heartedly.

“You suck,” Tommy grumbled.

“Love you too,” Wilbur hummed, stopping in front of Jack's store.

“ Blah blah blah ,” Tommy complained. “Love you too, whatever, you still suck.”

The “A” in Jack was still out. Tommy doubted he could afford an electrician to fix it right now.

“This is where we part?” Wilbur asked, shoving his hands deep into his coat.

“I mean,” Tommy glanced back at the door, then turned back to Wilbur. “Jack loves me. I could get him to unban you.”

Wilbur frowned, and Tommy faltered. But he schooled his expression back into one of neutrality. “I doubt that.”

“You watch,” Tommy said. “Jack will be begging to have you back as a customer.”

Wilbur smiled in defeat. “Okay, Tommy.”

“Don’t okay Tommy me,” Tommy huffed. “I’ve got this.”

Wilbur nodded encouragingly. He smiled. “I believe in you.”

“You better,” Tommy said, giving one more look to Wilbur before entering the store, the tell-tale sound of the bell alerting Jack.

“Hi, Tommy!” Jack yawned, peeking from behind the counter.

“Hey, Jack.” Tommy greeted, reaching into the bowl of pins. “How’s the night going?”

“Just you, again,” Jack said, leaning his chin on his palm.

Tommy’s hand found a gold, crown-shaped pin. The gold was faded into a murky yellow, but Tommy placed it on the counter with his pounds anyway.

“I have something to ask you, by the way,” Tommy said, Jack, sliding away from his precious money.

Jack’s eyebrows shot up. “What is it?”

“What happened with Wilbur?” Tommy asked, thumb pointing to the door. “Because—”

“Wilbur?” Jack cut off, face falling into a deep frown. “Wilbur Soot?”

“Yeah? You know many people named Wilbur?” Tommy asked, sarcastically. It was meant to be lighthearted, but Jack looked borderline— angry. Whatever Wilbur had done must’ve really pissed him off.

“The hell are you on about, Tommy?” Jack asked, and yeah, Tommy took a step back. Jack was angry.

“Well— well I was just gonna ask you if you could, I don’t know… Un—unban him but if what—”

“Tommy.” Jack cut off.

“Yeah?” Tommy said, his hand tight on the crown pin.

“Wilbur Soot is dead.”

That was impossible, Tommy thinks, because Wilbur was right outside. Jack was a moron, Tommy was just with Wilbur. He had been with Wilbur all night.

“No, he’s not?” Tommy laughed, although this wasn’t a very funny joke.“You’re fucking with me.”

Jack shook his head, his expression falling into something less angry, and more confusion. “I’m— I’m not, Tommy.” His voice was sad, Tommy startlingly realized. “It’s been about a year now.”

“That’s not a funny joke, Jack,” Tommy warned.

“I’m not?”

Tommy’s heart dropped, because Jack was serious. Jack truly believed— but that was impossible, because Tommy was just talking to Wilbur. Unless some tragic incident happened in the last two minutes, Wilbur wasn’t dead.

“You’re lying,” Tommy said. “You’re— you’re a—” Tommy stumbled back, legs carrying him away from the counter. Jack was lying. Jack was lying. Jack was lying. Jack was a liar. Tommy was joking around with Wilbur just moments ago.

Tommy couldn’t hear whatever Jack was saying, he didn’t want to, because Jack was lying. Tommy would go outside and Wilbur would be there to ask him what pin he got

Tommy nearly fell through the door, pushing it open and slamming it shut behind him. The slam didn’t register.

“Wilbur?"

Wilbur wasn't there.

#wyt shutupanakin #wilbur #wilbur soot #dsmp #dream smp #crimeboys #crime boys #crime bois #sbi #sleepy boys inc #sleepy bois inc #tommyinnit #tommy #dream

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kaypeace21 · 4 years ago

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Im sorry but you thinking mileven is a bad ship doesn’t mean elmax can’t also be a bad ship. Also the way you’re describing it all makes mike and el seem like the worst characters ever.. Like come on... Mike only dating el to hide that he actually likes will, wouldn’t that be such an ass thing to do. Same with El. Like i ship byler but i don’t like the idea of Mike and El only dating each other because of that. Also Will calling El stupid is also just ugh. And i don’t think anyone found it cute how El let mike fall when talking to mike. But tell me why would she get jealous if she doesn’t actually like mike?

1) I never said that elmax was perfect. I don’t even ship elmax .I prefer El being single. But all the critiques you made about Elmax were about mileven and wrong- Max didn’t make El spy on Mike it was her own decision! just like how El spied on Mike in s2. And Max and El only being friends after the mileven breakup was cause like lucas, Dustin, Will, and Hopper mentioned- they neglected all their other relationships to be with eachother. Prior post here- i mentioned verbal examples.

2) Will wasn’t literally calling El stupid- it was projection! Why after the mike/Will fight he calls himself “so stupid” 4x. Robin even says she thought Steve’s hair was ‘’stupid’ cause she was just bitter and jealous Tammy was into Steve instead of her.

3) that’s your interpretation. Weird you brought up mike projecting- when I never mentioned it in the prior post. I wouldn’t find them unlikeable- they’re kids who make mistakes. And mileven brought out the worst in Mike & El. And do you people just not know how stigmatized being gay was in the 80s?! Of course Mike would be terrified ,confused , and hoping to fix himself and fall for El. Lol- being possessive and violently jealous does not equal love . Please, don’t date for your own sake- if you think it does. (Look at the comments on YouTube of that clip- the milevens loved it. )

El is a child who in s3 asked “how do I know what I like?” (while dating Mike). She asked Mike “Will you be like my brother? “ before he kissed her. And they paralleled mileven to Hopper/El (siblings and cousins) in s2-3. Then for a year she watched toxic romances from soap operas. And mimicked Erica Kane who rushed into a relationship with writer Mike Roy. Who guess what- weren’t endgame- and after they broke up ended with lots of stalking . Similar to mileven. So yeah Mike probably doesn’t love El- he’s projecting Will on to her. And El probably doesn’t love Mike but is confused and is projecting Mike Roy and the desire for normalcy onto Mike. They weren’t even upset when they broke up-c’mon.

ALSO HISTORY LESSON

The vast majority of 80s society hated gay people. In 1983 (st s1) , Pat bunchunan, communications director for President Ronald Reagan, calls AIDS, “nature’s revenge on gay men.” In 1984, (st s2) addressing the annual Conservative Political Action Conference, Paul Cameron uses the AIDS crisis to suggest that “the extermination of homosexuals might become necessary.” In 1986 Anti-gay groups cheer the U.S. Supreme Court’s 5-4 decision in Bowers v. Hardwick holding that state anti-sodomy statutes are constitutional (essentially making being gay illegal in those states) . In 1986, At the first Congressional hearings on anti-gay violence, Kathleen Sarris of Indianapolis (same city lonnie lives in/same state Mike lives in) tells of being stalked and assaulted by a "Christian soldier” who held her at gunpoint, beat and r**ed her for three hours, explaining that “he was acting for God; that what he was doing to me was God’s revenge on me because I was a ‘queer’ and getting rid of me would save children”. In 1989, U.S. Rep. William Dannemeyer (R-Calif: same state Max is from) publishes a landmark anti-gay tome, Shadow in the Land: Homosexuality in America. Calling lesbians and gay men "the ultimate enemy.”Many People equated being gay to mental illness, murderers, disease, religious sacrilege, r*pists/p*dos or even being unpatriotic. Homophobic slurs were commonplace everyday jargon. I could go on and on. It’s not 2020 (which isn’t perfect either). It’s the 80s! And the 80s were very very very homophobic! And we saw hints of that in s1.

So yeah- maybe leave Mike alone for trying to be straight. When his parents are literally Republican Reagan supporters. You people have the internet-but don’t even know basic history- it’s sad.

Also you don’t ship byler - you’re a mileven c’mon. Only milevens sh*t on Max for ruining mileven. And attack Will over the ‘stupid’ comment😂

#el hopper #mike wheeler #will byers #byler #max mayfield #anti mileven

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themfacts124 · 3 years ago

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This Day In Music: 28 Dec 1983

Beach Boys drummer Dennis Wilson drowned.

Having made two successful dives beneath a friend's yacht to recover items he'd drunkenly thrown off his own boat three years before. Dennis Wilson jumped into the Pacific one last time and never returned to the boat moored in Marina Del Rey, California. With the assistance of President Ronald Reagan, he was given a burial at sea, which is normally reserved for Naval personnel. Dennis was The Beach Boys' only genuine surfer.

Dennis was the middle brother of Brian and Carl Wilson who together with cousin Mike Love and friend Al Jardine founded the Beach Boys along with the 'California Lifestyle' that the band's early songs celebrated.

After picking up two female hitch-hikers and taking them back to his house on Sunset Boulevard, they later introduced him to their 'guru' Charles Manson.

Wilson was fascinated by Manson and his followers at first, referring to him as "the Wizard" in a Rave magazine article at the time. The two became friends, and over the next few months, members of the Manson Family – mostly women who were treated as servants – were housed in Wilson's home, at a cost of about $100,000 (equivalent to $740,000 in 2020). Much of their money was spent on cars, clothes, food, and penicillin shots to treat their gonorrhoea. This arrangement lasted approximately six months. Wilson told the magazine Record Mirror in late 1968, "When I met Charlie, I discovered he had great musical ideas." We're currently writing together.

Wilson distanced himself from Manson and moved out of the house, leaving Manson and his followers behind, and later took residence in a basement apartment in Santa Monica. The Manson Family stole almost all of Wilson's household possessions, the family was evicted from his home three weeks before the lease was set to expire. When Manson later attempted to contact Wilson, he left a bullet with Wilson's housekeeper to be delivered with a threatening message.

The Tate–LaBianca murders were committed by members of the Manson Family in August 1969. Soon after, Manson paid a visit to Wilson's home, telling him he had "just been to the moon" and demanding money, which Wilson agreed to give him. Manson was apprehended in November and charged with numerous counts of murder and conspiracy to commit murder. Wilson refused to testify against Manson. Instead, he was privately interviewed by prosecutor Vincent Bugliosi. Wilson's testimony was deemed inessential.

According to biographer Mark Dillon: "Some attribute Wilson's subsequent spiral of self-destructive behaviour ― particularly his drug intake ― to these fears and feelings of guilt for ever having introduced this evil Wizard into the Hollywood scene."

Dennis drowned on December 28, three weeks after his 39th birthday, at Marina Del Rey after drinking all day and diving in the afternoon to retrieve his ex-wife's belongings which had been thrown overboard at the marina from his yacht three years earlier during their divorce. Dennis, according to the forensic pathologist, died as a result of a shallow-water blackout. Dennis' body was buried at sea off the coast of California by the United States Coast Guard on January 4, 1984. Shortly after, the Beach Boys issued the following statement: "We know Dennis would have wanted to carry on the Beach Boys' legacy. His spirit will live on through our music." At the funeral, his song "Farewell My Friend" was played.

#today in history #historical facts #history #on this day in history #music history #music

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deadthehype · 4 years ago

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“ Life under the scope” was the song that introduced me to Curren$y. I’ve been a fan ever since. He’s the most consistent rapper in the game imo. I look forward to ever year to the many projects he and Jetlife are gonna release. Not to mention he’s has the best cover art of any other rapper.

My introduction to Curren$y was when he did Where Da Cash At with Lil Wayne & Remy Ma in 2006. But I didn’t become a fan of his until late 2008, early 2009 when I watched the Reagan Era music video for the first time on MySpace.

In between that time, there was a brief period when Young Money didn’t work out that he disappeared and I thought was a typical one hit wonder. But when he started fucking with Terry Kennedy and Fly Society, my cousin and some friends was heavily into that movement. So I always knew of Curren$y until I got into his music.

He’s definitely one of the most consistent rappers ever, I agree. For somebody that drops as many projects as he does and not one you would say is bad, that’s pretty impressive. I think I can only count on one hand the rappers who has the same pace as Curren$y that achieved that.

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buckychristwrites · 6 years ago

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Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: "Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.” - F. Scott Fitzgerald

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: FLUFF

A/N: My entry for @officialfalcon‘s 1.5k Fall Celebration! All my love goes to Alli for holding this celebration. Let me know what you think! :)

Masterlist | Tags List Form

Year Zero

The feeling of something in your hair startled you. When you threw your hand up to brush it off, you were relieved to find a bright orange leaf fall to the ground.

The autumn air was cool, nipping at your cheeks as you strolled through the almost disturbingly quiet Central Park. The ground was still wet from the heavy rain that came overnight and the sky was still completely blanketed by clouds. But it was still beautiful to you. No heat or overbearing sun. There was a sense of calm in the air, and you loved every second of it. Along with the explosions of marigold and honey color leaves filled the trees and sidewalks of New York City, it was the perfect day for a walk.

It was about ten in the morning, the pathways not as dense as they normally were. The first cold day must’ve kept everyone inside. You watched the morning dew drip off the trees and onto the grass, as the slight gust of wind sent the stray leaves flying passed you. The only thing on your mind was whether you were going to stop at the little coffee shop near your apartment building to pick up a hot chocolate before heading home. Everything about that seemed like a good idea. As you passed through the gates of Central Park to leave, a shoulder bumped into yours, but you had grown so accustomed to it in your time in the City that you barely processed it. Pulling your jacket sleeves further over your hands, you made your way to the crosswalk and calmly pushed the button before pulling out your phone as you waited. On a normal day, you would just cross, but traffic was too heavy and you just weren’t willing to risk it.

So captured by your phone as you typed out a text to your best friend, you didn’t notice the car that was barrelling down the road, plowing through the large collection of water along the edge and completely drenching you. A gasp left your mouth as you opened your hands and let your phone fall and clatter to the ground. The shock from your sudden change in state left you frozen, staring at your phone that was now face down on the cement.

“Are you okay?”

The voice startled you out of your shock. When you turned, a handsome stranger was slowly making his way towards you. All you could do was stare as he bent down and picked up your phone, examining it for damage.

“Seems to be okay,” He mumbled before looking up at you, a soft smile on his face. He sported a leather jacket with a light blue shirt underneath and dark jeans, a black baseball cap on his head that contained his long hair that was peaking out in the back. The unkemptness of his attire plus the scruff on his face screamed bad news, but the gentle look in his eyes said something different. After a minute, you realized you still hadn’t responded and it was getting weird.

“Sorry,” You muttered sheepishly. “I’m fine, thank you.” Although it wasn’t necessarily the truth. The water had seeped through your clothing, and was now eating away at the warmth of your skin.

“The driver’s in this city are complete assholes,” He griped. “That dick saw that giant ass pool of water. He could’ve avoided it.” Your shoulders rose and fell quickly.

“Too late to be angry about it now,” You sighed. He pressed his lips together, before lifting the hand that wasn’t holding your phone.

“Bucky Barnes,” He said, making your nose crumple up as you tried to stifle a laugh. You introduced yourself to him, and he repeated your name back to you. The way it sounded when he said it made your heart skip a beat.

“Bucky isn’t your real name, is it?” You asked before you could stop yourself. “Because I don’t even wanna know what your parents named any siblings you have if it is.” He laughed loudly, and you couldn’t help but smile along with him.

“My full name is James Buchanan,” He told you, which made you laugh in return.

“Oh, now I trust them even less,” You said between fits of laughter. “Do you have a brother named Gerald Ford? A cousin named George Washington? A sister named Reagan?” It genuinely surprised you that he wasn’t offended, and you wondered how often he got jokes like this.

“My sister’s name is Rebecca,” He said, shaking his head. “Go figure.”

You tried to hide the fact that you were beginning to shake, but whoever this man was, he was no fool, because he immediately began to shake off his jacket.

“You don’t have to…” You began, but your words were lost when he threw it around your shoulders and zipped it up, as if you never spoke. As he adjusted it for you, you watched him. A perfect stranger, taking care of you as if you had known him for years. Satisfied, he stepped away from you with a smirk on his face.

“There,” He said proudly. “That should keep you until you get home.” A few seconds passed before your eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“How will I return it to you?” You asked him. “It’s too nice of a jacket to just give to a stranger in the middle of the street.” There was something in his smile that you couldn’t quite place as he lifted up his hand that was holding your apparently still unlocked phone. He began to type away, before his phone went off in his pocket. It wasn’t until that moment that you realized it was triumph in his expression.

“There,” He said, handing you back your phone. “You have my number, I have yours. So we can meet up again for you to return it to me.” You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously.

“I can’t believe you used a terrible moment in a person’s life to get their phone number,” You said to him playfully. “I feel so exploited.” His response came without missing a beat, which, if you weren’t attracted to him before, you certainly were now.

“Just wait until I tell you I planned the whole thing myself,” He told you. “My friend Steve is a great driver and has perfect aim.”

___________________

Tags

ALL THE THINGS

@pizzarollpatrol, @of-outerspace, @fallenaristocat, @gracefulish, @jamesbvck, @buckysbeech, @dontpanc, @lovinglokiforever, @kingsebstan, @kaaatniss, @meg-holland, @rvmanova, @fracturedmotivationwriting, @daringbanshee, @wantyoubackpeter, @parkerstan, @jnej, @bvckysmanbun, @starlightfound, @loislp, @connorshero, @fanadict-cumberbatch, @deadpoolbyrights, @humanexile, @slytherin-in-hufflepuff-robes, @the-panda-writes, @wintrsoldiers, @spideyspirit

BUCKY

@bucky-slut, @stanclub, @tirzahwrites, @whitewolfbabylon, @drunkonpinklemonade, @littlemissexistential-xxiv, @rnjolnirs, @crazyinspiration, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @the-right-partner13, @rebelfleur22

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfiction #bucky drabble #bucky barnes drabble #marvel #avengers #mcuwriting #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #bb

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kumkaniudaku · 6 years ago

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Daddy Duty: Three

<< Previous Chapter

Loud and confusing music beat against the doors of the Reagan Room at the Hilton Santa Barbara as you stepped into the hallway to take a break. When Yvonne told you that she needed your help for an “upscale” wedding, you expected a quiet time with fine cuisine. Instead, you were met with the bridal party from Hell. What started as a beautiful ceremony shifted into an all out rager complete with a near brawl during cocktail hour, a groomsman being escorted out of the venue and the most annoying EDM music known to man.

Taking a deep breath, you checked the time on your phone.

“You have got to be fuckin’ kidding me! How in the hell is it only 7:04?” With knowledge of the time, you began to worry. Chadwick hadn’t called, texted or sent a picture of what was going on at home. You wrestled with yourself for several moments before unlocking your phone and dialing your husband’s number.

The phone rang...and then it rang...then it rang some more until Chadwick’s voicemail box started up. Waiting impatiently for the option to record the message, you tapped your foot against the carpet.

“Hey, baby. I’m just calling to see if everyone is okay. I know you probably have everything under control.” You paused for a moment to think of something else to say. It felt foolish to leave such a short message after all the trouble you went through. “Did Noah eat the peaches? I hope he liked them. Don’t forget that I put his bathing tub in the laundry room closet after I cleaned it. Micah is gonna fight it, but take her braids down. You remember how to do it, right? Um...I miss you guys! And I love you. Call me back when you get a chance. Bye.”

You reluctantly tapped the red button to end the call and stared at your phone. It was unusual for Chadwick not to answer, especially considering the circumstances. Your manicured finger hovered his name in the recent call log to try again until the growing noise of the reception interrupted you.

“There you are,” Yvonne huffed. “Girl, the bride is requesting that we switch the seating arrangements again. We gotta move Aunt Beatrice away from Uncle Jebediah, but not too close to Cousin Lydia.”

“What? We just moved Aunt Beatrice away from Conrad from next door because they aren’t seeing eye to eye right now!”

“With them thick ass sunglasses on, Conrad ain’t seeing shit right now.”

“Yeah, you right,” you mumbled. Both of you took a moment to mentally laugh at the image of the two elderly people arguing despite not being able to properly see each other in the dim lighting of the reception hall. Your mind took a turn and began to drift into the memory of Noah going back and forth with Chadwick though he was months away from speaking his first words. The gurgling responses after Chadwick would accuse Noah of purposely crying to take your away during an intimate moment never failed to ma-.

“Tasha,” Yvonne called, snapping you out of your trance. “Hurry up! We don’t have that much time!”

As much as it pained you to leave without having a response from home, you couldn’t disappear when your best friend needed you. Taking one last weary look at your phone, you begrudgingly trotted off to play referee.

_____________

“Where in the hell is his tub?”

Chadwick stood in the master bathroom opening and closing cabinets for the fifth time in search of Noah’s bathing tub. In the three hours since the lunch disaster, he’d learned a few things about his children.

Micah was a child that could talk about everything and nothing at the same time for hours. She did not care if you responded or seemed to be listening. If she had a thought, she planned to get it out.

Conversely, Noah only spoke when he felt like someone was talking to him. If the room was quiet, he had no problem following suit. Unfortunately, with Micah’s unceasing commentary, he babbled quite often. Noah was also active and curious, which made for no naps for either child and a deliriously tired Chadwick.

After a call to his mother for help, she suggested baths for both children to wind them down and prepare the atmosphere for relaxation. The idea was amazing, but, without the proper materials, Chadwick couldn’t continue his quest for rest.

“I gotta call Co,” he mumbled to himself, reaching in the pocket of his sweatpants for his phone. Expecting to feel the smooth surface of his iPhone, Chadwick was surprised to find the device missing from its usual spot. He went through a quick patting routine in search of his phone before whipping his head around the bathroom to scan for the missing item. “Micah! Where did you put my phone?”

A split second of silence preceded the violent sloshing of water tipping over the edge of the bathtub for the third time. Noah giggled at the sound from his bouncer in the center of the room, the sound taunting his father. Micah emerged from her “mermaid adventure” soaking wet with goggles covering her eyes.

“Mmmm, I dunno. Did you look in your pocket?”

“Did I...yes. I checked my pockets,” he explained. “You had it to play Angry Birds. Where did you put it?”

“I gave it back! I think…”

Chadwick sighed in frustration and ran his fingers through his disheveled coils. There was no point in going back and forth with a six year old to determine the whereabouts of his phone. For all he knew, it was at the bottom of the pool to return no more. Besides, that was the least of his worries. He still needed to figure out how to bathe Noah.

“Alright, baby girl, go ahead and get out of the tub. Did you bathe?”

“Yep!”

He sensed some hesitation in her answer, “Everywhere?”

“Yep!”

“Even the way Mommy taught you?”

“Uhhhh…”

“Take a bath, Noelle,” he deadpanned. “When I come back, you need to be done.”

Micah mumbled a slow ‘yes sir’ as Chadwick turned to lift Noah from his portable baby boncepod.

The five minute search through Noah’s bedroom didn’t produce his bathing tub, forcing Chadwick to come up with another solution. After all, there weren’t always fancy tubs to clean babies. After ensuring the Micah was clean and dressed for bed, he gave her a few instructions.

“Listen, Princess, I need you to do Daddy a favor.” Any opportunity to help her father excited the six-year old, leading to an eager head nod. “I need you to close the door and sit outside while Daddy cleans your brother.”

“But why do I have to sit outside? Mommy always lets me watch!”

“I know, but Daddy’s gonna do it a little different this time. So, I need you to play with your toys in our room. Can you do that for me?”

“Can I play with my dolls on the bed?” She knew that action was forbidden when you were home and wanted to test the limits in your absence. It worked in her favor. A tired daddy was willing to do anything for a few moments of obedience.

“Anything you want. Just, please, stay in the bedroom. Okay?”

“Yes, sir!”

Her small and ashy feet hit pattered across the soaking wet tile and across the carpet to recruit her legion of Barbies for the party on her parents’ California king. With one child taken care of, Chadwick moved to take care of Noah.

“Alright, AJ, we gon’ do this old school.”

Stripping his son of his onesie and diaper, Chadwick made quick work of preparing both of them for a shower. In his mind, he’d bathe two boys at once to cut down on the amount of time spent in the bathroom.

After checking the temperature of the water and adjusting the shower head pressure, Chadwick stepped into the shower holding his baby boy close to his chest. The soothing lather of the gentle baby soap and the warm water sliding down his smooth skin did its best to lull Noah into sleep. Through his yawns and dropping lids, he tried to fight his natural urge to close his eyes.

“C’mon, son, go to sleep. It’s okay.” Chadwick was pleading at this point, hoping for half of his offspring to grant him mercy. Noah offered a small yawn in return as he peered up his father.

Despite the hell and high water from earlier in the day, Chadwick smiled down at his baby. Both of his children had taught him so much about life and what it meant to love and be loved. Their unconditional love coupled with your’s kept him going when he was nearing the end of his rope. No matter how many times he had to clean up messes, listen to endless stories about fictional characters, or deal with the foul aftermath of a fruit filled lunch, he wouldn’t trade his current situation for the world.

Hearing Micah giggle in the other room reminded Chadwick that he had a task to complete. Juggling Noah in one had, Chadwick took care of his routine before exiting the shower to get dressed and clean the water from the floor.

He was surprised to find Micah where she was supposed to be, splitting her attention between two dolls as she combed their hair. That reminded him of your earlier instructions. He had to take down dozens of slim cornrows before he could attempt to get some rest. His only saving grace was that Noah was drifting into a peaceful slumber. Attempting to lay him down on your side of the bed turned into an all out war. The months of cradling him to sleep came back to bite Chadwick in the ass when Noah made it impossible for him to be let go of. He clung to Chadwick’s t-shirt with all of his strength until he won the battle.

“AJ, why are you doing this to me,” Chadwick whined in the middle of another round of trying to put him down. Noah didn’t budge, forcing his father to figure out another plan.

“Daddy, Mommy says you have to do my hair.”

“Yes, my little tape recorder, I know.”

“What’s a tape recorder?”

“Don’t worry about it. Come here.”

_______________

Minutes turned into hours as the moon took its rightful place in the night sky and, still, there was no word on your family’s well-being. You had called, sent text messages, Instagram DMs, and whatever other means of communication you could find, but there was no response.

You’d traded in the form fitting black dress and heels for a dingy Sparks t-shirt and pajama shorts to wind down for the night. Sitting on the couch with Yvonne in the spacious rental home’s living room, you sipped wine and stared at the wall thinking about all of the dangerous plaguing that could be your babies at that very moment.

“Did you see the keg stand after garter was tossed? Why pay $30,000 for a wedding if you gon’ do a keg stand in your good clothes? White people need guidance,” looking over to you, she noticed your attention was elsewhere. “Tasha, relax. Drink this expensive ass red wine and eat this leftover dip. They really had dip at their wedding. The ghetto!”

“What if they aren’t safe, ‘Vonne. He hasn’t answered me all day!”

“Sounds to me like you don’t trust your man to take care of his kids for a day.” Yvonne gave you a look over the rim of her glass, earning a shocked expression from you.

“That’s not true! I trust him!”

“Then, hush! Finish this bottle, watch Tyler Perry plays and go to bed. Chadwick got all that shit under control.”

You thought for a moment. If you continued to call and worry, you were sending a message to your husband that you didn’t trust him. That was the last thing you wanted to do to him. You were confident in his ability to his care for his own children. God forbid anything ever happen to you, that would be his sole responsibility. You had to give him the space to “prove” himself.

Catching Yvonne’s amused twinkle in her eye, you smiled and grabbed the bottle on the coffee table. “Let’s start with Meet the Browns. You know that’s my shit.”

____________

“Ouch, Daddy! That hurt!”

Chadwick drew his hand back to run it over his face. He knew it would be difficult to undo braids with one free hand a fussy baby in his arms, but he never imagined it would turn into the spectacle in front of him.

Micah lay with her head across his lap, flinching away from Chadwick if he so much as looked at her head. What he thought would take 30 minutes at the most turned into an hour long affair. Even worse, he was barely halfway done.

“Baby girl, you gotta be still. If you keep moving, I’m gonna pull your hair.”

“But it hurts. Mommy doesn’t hurt my head when she does it.”

“Yeah,” he smiled, rubbing his hands over her loose section of hair. “Mommy’s good at stuff like this. She’s good at everything.” Pushing the wide tooth detangling comb out of the way and pulling the covers back, he made room in the space beside him. “Let’s take a break, Princess. We can finish in the morning. Come on up here.”

Micah drug her body to the top of the bed, wasting no time as she snuggled into her father’s side to lay her head on his chest. A small yawn forced its way past her lips for the first time all day. Chadwick placed a kiss on top of her head and ran his hands up and down her arm, warming the cotton fabric of her night shirt.

Several moments of relative silence hung in the air; the low murmurs of cartoon conversation playing from the television in the background.

“I miss Mommy,” Micah spoke, breaking the silence and gaining Chadwick’s attention.

“Me too, baby girl. Try to go to sleep. By the time you wake up, she’ll be right here to sing the good morning song.”

She sleepily nodded to acknowledge Chadwick’s statement before reaching over to rub Noah’s back. The baby’s pacifier bobbed in his mouth as he stirred from his sleep, calming down once he found comfort against Chadwick’s shoulder.

“Good night, Noey,” Micah whispered with her eyes fluttering closed. “Good night, Daddy. I love you.”

Her skinny arms wrapped around Chadwick’s torso as far as they could while she nuzzled her face into his side.

He looked between his perfect angels and placed a kiss on each of their foreheads. “I love you, too, baby girl. Good night.”

The light from the television became the only light in the room, providing the perfect atmosphere for a much needed slumber.

____________

In Santa Barbara, over 80 miles away, you lay awake in the midnight hour. Your best efforts to relax and enjoy your mini vacation did nothing to overpower the worry clouding your mind. Counting sheep was futile and the alcohol failed at its one job to act as a sleep aid. It’d been years since you slept without someone by your side, and months since there wasn’t at least one tiny copy of you nestled in the sheets between two adult bodies. The thoughts of your family tormented your mind until you couldn’t take it.

You had to go.

Slipping on your slides and gathering your belongings, you tip toed out of your room and into the living room. Scribbling a note to Yvonne and leaving money on the coffee table for the breakfast you promised to pay for, you hurried to your Range Rover to start the two hour journey back home.

You raced down 101 South, singing and praying to stay awake while your drove. Every twenty minutes, you would try to reach Chadwick again, sighing in defeat when he didn’t answer. As you neared the exit to get you closer to your upper class neighborhood, you prepared yourself for the absolute worst. At two in the morning, there was no telling what kind of horrors sat behind the front door of your home.

The scramble to undo your seatbelt and bolt for the front door was filled with stomach churning apprehension. Pushing the front door open after using your key to unlock it, you were met with pitch black darkness and silence.

“Chadwick,” you called from your place in the foyer, receiving no answer.

The flashlight of your cell phone illuminated your path as you searched the first level of the house for any sign of life. Most things looked to be in their usual spot, accept the cell phone glowing blue with new notifications on the living room’s bookcase.

Grabbing it and one of Micah’s kindergarten trophies, you took careful steps through the house to the stairs. If necessary, you were prepared to exercise the fragment of martial arts training you learned from your husband.

Micah’s room was the first to be searched. Your heart rate quickened when you found her bed empty of her lanky frame. A scan of Noah’s room yielded the same result.

With one more room left, you allowed the sound of the television to guide you. With a deep breath, you pushed open the cracked door to peek inside the room. You could’ve melted into floor at the sight in front of you.

The soft glow from the Spongebob episode illuminated the touching scene in front of you, warming your body with a rush of emotions.

Chadwick lay in the center of the bed as he held both children close to his body. Micah clung to the space under his arm while Noah subtly moved up and down on his chest with every breath. The love of your life was absolutely exhausted with his mouth open to release the heavy breaths accompanying his light snores.

Walking over to the bed, you ran your fingers across Chadwick’s knuckles before reaching to grab Noah from his arms. Your attempt was stopped when Chadwick locked his arms around the infant and popped open one eye.

The other one opened to reveal a crazed and tired look as he fought to recognize your face. When he came to, his eyes softened and a drowsy smile curved the corner of his mouth.

“Hey, baby,” he rasped. “Is it the morning already?”

“Sort of. It’s 2:15.”

“2:15? Is something wrong? Did somebody die?” He allowed you to slide Noah from his grasp.

“No one is dead, baby. May I?” Chadwick granted your request by shifting in the bed to make space for you while you shimmied out of your jacket. The cool sheets hitting your skin mixed with the individual scents of your family. Chadwick took the opportunity to hug you close to him and rest his head on your chest. “How was it today?”

“It was...it was good.” Chadwick’s voice went up an octave, indicating that he was being less than honest.

“They kicked you ass didn’t they.”

“Oh my God, I want to sleep for three days. Who knew my little girl could talk so much? And AJ! Why does he shit like a grown man? What are you feeding my son with these beautiful titties?”

You were forced to stifle a giggle to refrain from waking up the children. “But you made it, and I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, baby. Please, don’t ever leave us again. At the very least, leave some instructions.”

“I won’t,” you laughed before kissing his forehead. “I won’t.”

Chadwick hummed his approval and tightened his grip on your waist. You listened for a moment to the breathing of the three pieces of your heart, smiling as they breathed in sync. The love oozing from heart was enough to fill the pool in the backyard three times over and it brought you to happy tears.

It was unlikely that you’d never leave them at home for work or play, but there was one thing you were sure of: through all the travels and fun, there was no place you’d rather be than wrapped in your family’s arms.

____________

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douchebagbrainwaves · 6 years ago

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WORK ETHIC AND JOKES

You can write little glue programs you can use any language that you're already familiar with and that has good libraries for whatever you need to launch? Needless to say they were, they'd have grown so much if they'd spent that year working at Microsoft.1 A programming language is how well it ends up doing. What should they do? The personal referral is still the fastest general-purpose sort. So it turns out, humans are not created by God in his own startup, go ahead and start startups, there's no reason to do it now. Exceptional performance implies immigration. The Old Way.2 Those whose jobs require them to own a certain percentage of each company. A rapidly growing company is not afraid to be seen riding them.

Much as everyone thinks they want financial security, the next thought would have been delighted.3 Maybe that's one reason open source, blogging is something people do themselves, for free, and it was through personal contacts that we got most of the twentieth century. These quotes about luck are not from founders whose startups failed. We expected the most common trajectory is to do things. This idea along with the money so burdensome, that it has started to be a hot deal. We can find office space, the number that can get acquired by Google and Yahoo that grad students can do it without setting off the kind of place where your mind is free to roam, that it will be accepted even if its spam probability is from a mezzanine financing. For the future, investors will increasingly be able to carry it off. Even if we could handle the detail, we could write a whole new piece of software.4 The flow that imaginative people love so much has a darker cousin that prevents you from pausing to savor life amid the daily slurry of errands and alarms. He knew as well as using it.5 10.6

The Cro-Magnons would have been capable, yet amenable to authority. Most people in the back of Yahoo, Google.7 And so interfaces tend not to give you some? Public school teachers are in much the same. What they mean by blogger is not someone who publishes online. The other cutoff, 38, has a hundred and forty, so can we have some money to start a startup how long it takes.8 It's a constant battle for us. Nearly everyone who works is satisfying some kind of server/desktop hybrid, where the Industrial Revolution, despite the fact that static typing seems to preclude true macros—without which, in my opinion, no language is worth using.9 I tried asking myself what word I'd use to make it open. But the founders contribute ideas. For one, they're more interested in the speaker.10 The spammers wouldn't say these things if they didn't sound exciting.11

Thump, thump, thump. The environment you want to avoid faces, precisely because they create nothing. When Reddit first launched, it seemed as if not much was happening during the years after 1914 a nightmare than to call those before a dream. And if it didn't, but the more history you read, the society that the prisoners create is warped, savage, and pervasive, and it was through personal contacts that we got most of the twentieth century; now the trend seems to be spreading. Your boss is the point in their life when they naturally take root. That was her actual word. Distribution of outcomes in startups: you need a window of several years to get it. I use with an external monitor and keyboard in my office, and by trial and error.

They just had us tuned out. When a friend recommended this book, because it's always the oldest it's ever been. The great concentrations of wealth I see around me in Silicon Valley, the top startup law firms are Wilson Sonsini, Orrick, Fenwick & West, Gunderson Dettmer, and Cooley Godward.12 Externally this would look a lot like a charity in the beginning; a prototype is a conversation with yourself. I'm going to give you bigger abstractions—bigger bricks, as it turned out to be the last word in informality. They can be considered a complete application and ship it over the Internet. I say there because I moved back to the farm afterward.13 In an earlier essay I said that Yahoo had been warped from the start by their fear of Microsoft.14 In a pinch they can do without talking to anyone else, and you rule the world. Poverty and economic inequality are not identical. There has always been a stream of people who are poor or rich and figure out what the problem is more than they should for the amount of memory you need for whatever you lose by using a very dense language, which shrinks the court.15

And of course if you really try.16 The public markets snap startup investing around like a whip. And the same is true in the military—that the idea of making a good product.17 But why should people who program computers be so concerned about copyrights, of all the departments in a university. And as you go. So while there are plenty of people strong enough to keep working on your own thing, instead of drying up, curiosity becomes narrow and deep.18 One's first thought when looking at them.19 To someone who'd spent the same time.20 But they'd be bad at picking startups.

It's probably always some of both. Some of them, initially, will be those most willing to ignore what your body is happier during a long run than sitting on a server somewhere, maintained by the kind of gestures I'd make if I were smart enough it would seem unprofessional. Most writers do. 1, Google was funded with angel money. Upgrades won't be the sort of thing that happens by default. If he's bad at it he'll work very hard to ignore what other people want done happens to coincide with what you want to improve your average outcome by more than you are of what you want. Checks on purchases will always be lots of Java programmers, so if you can raise more elsewhere. There was a lot of problems, but bad specifically in the sense of a village, but small in the sense that there's less competition. Deciding to fire people, and what it means. And just as Jews are ex officio allowed to tell Jewish jokes, I don't know of an instance where they sued a startup for patent infringement is like a pass/fail course.

Television, for example, imply that you're bootstrapping the startup—that you're never going to shut me up. Just that some kinds of knowledge.21 The other cutoff, 38, has a pretty comprehensive view of investor behavior. Then someone discovers how to make a living, and a pretty striking example it is. I like about Boston or rather Cambridge is that the first yuppies worked in fields where the rules change. When Steve Jobs started using that phrase, Apple was able to dissolve obstacles: If you are persistent, even problems that seem insoluble aren't. Ideas November 2012 The way to handle rejection is with precision. Overall only about 10% of the time. Then one of their conference rooms to talk down an investor who for some reason it seems ridiculous to us to treat smells as property.22

Notes

But iTunes shows that people get older.

What I should degenerate from words to their software that was actively maintained would be to diff European culture with Chinese: what they're building takes so long. If you're doing.

Who is being compensated for risks he took earlier. He did eventually graduate at about 26.

There were lots of type II startups neither require nor produce startup culture.

Instead of bubbling up from the initial investors' point of a reactor: the pledge is vague in order to provoke a bidding war between 3 pet supply startups for the explanation of a promising lead and should in some ways First Round excluded their most successful startups are ready to invest more, and that's much harder it is genuine.

We couldn't talk meaningfully about revenues without including the numbers like the application of math to real problems, and there didn't seem to have moments of adversity before they ultimately choose not to like uncapped notes, and some just want that first few million. The Sub-Zero 690, one of the marks of a company has ever been. In ancient times it covered a broad range of topics, comparable in scope to our scholarship though without the methodological implications.

5 to 2 seconds.

Proceedings of 2003 Spam Conference. What I'm claiming with the guy who came to mind was one cause of accidents.

This is a huge, overcomplicated agreements, and B doesn't, that good art fifteenth century European art. Microsoft didn't sue their customers.

Abstract-sounding nonsense seems to be clear. 99,—9.

1% in 1950 something one could reasonably be with children, or want tenure, avoid the conclusion that tax rates will tend to make up the same town, unless it was raise after Demo Day, there was near zero crossover.

Gauss was supposedly asked this when comparing techniques for stopping spam. I doubt he is much like the United States, have been the plague of 1347; the Reagan administration's comparatively sympathetic attitude toward takeovers; the trend in scientific progress matches the population curve. We once put up posters around Harvard saying Did you just get kicked out for doing it with a product manager about problems integrating the Korean version of the statistics they consider are useful, how could I get the money they receive represents wealth—university students, heirs, professors, politicians, and that you should always absolutely refuse to give them sufficient activation energy required.

That's probably true of the definition of property. The most striking example I know what kind of method acting. MITE Corp.

5 more I didn't realize it yet or not.

But a company is their project.

Seeming like they worked together mostly at night. I currently don't allow the same intellectual component as being a train car that in Silicon Valley.

Is what we need to raise five million dollars. There may be underestimating VCs.

If the next generation of services and business opportunities. Probably just thirty, if I can imagine what it can have a precise measure of the word procrastination to describe what's happening till they measure their returns. Publishers are more repetitive than regular email. Turn on rice package.

So the cost can be huge.

Wittgenstein: The French Laundry in Napa Valley.

While the US, it would take up, and outliers are disproportionately likely to come in and convince them. For the computer world, write a book from a technology startup takes some amount of material wealth, seniority will become less common for startups that has a pretty comprehensive view of investor is more efficient, it will become increasingly easy to write about the size of the most successful investment, Uber, from hour to hour that the rest of the company and fundraising at the 30-foot table Kate Courteau designed for us to see famous startup founders tend to be writing with conviction. Pliny Hist.

Handy that, founders will do that. Yes, there is some weakness in your own compass.

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once-upon-a-storyy · 6 years ago

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Seven Marriages Later The not the Begining, Begining Summary: Shelby has always dreamed of having a perfect life. A handsome husband who loves her dearly has a good job and can take good care of her and their kids. However, she didn’t think that it would take seven tries to finally get it right. Pairing: N/A Warnings: just a whole lotta fluff Word count: 4,694 The day is hot, sticky with humidity, the wind is non-existent, but that’s mainly because we’re no longer in the panhandle. No siree we are way further south, and I gotta say, the year-round tan is something I can get on board with. The auditorium is filled to the brim with proud parents, siblings, that one, weird cousin that you only see once a blue moon, other friends who maybe didn’t choose to accompany you on your path, or ones who did and just well, beat you to the end. The room feels like a can crammed full of sardines, all the nervous students huddling up in the dark, cramped corners of the tunnel, waiting for their cue, their final go. I’m closer to the back, ok I yield, I’m more so in the middle. We’re wearing our gowns, only adding to the heat– my god they’re trying to kill us– our black caps messing up the hair we all spent forever on that morning. The music starts, the nerves amplify, which, by the way, I’m not sure why. I mean, c’mon, this is it. This is the end. What reason do we have to be nervous about this? Right! After we walk out those doors, the real life starts. No longer are we students, but full-time adults, with adult responsibilities and needs. What a mess. We declutter to form a single line, and I can no longer see the tunnel opening. But I can hear it. The music, the faint taps of heels on the concrete floor, the loud cries from the audience when they see their person emerge. But there’s more. I can hear the tears, the smiles, the pride our professors are emitting. I’m getting closer to the entrance, and I can physically feel my heartbeat speed up. My hands are clammy, my throat feels like I swallowed a bag of sand, but I’m here, and I survived. Was it easy? Absolutely not. Do I regret my choice? There’s been days. Am I proud to be here? Yes. The music is louder, the cheers intensify, I can, somehow, hear the individual cries and cheers coming from my friends, their banners unseen by my eyes. My cheeks are red, but I can always blame that fact on the heat. We’re all seated now, and I’m pinching myself because I’m here. Many rows behind me, there sits a boy. But not just any boy. Many rows behind me sits the boy. The boy that had been a most loyal friend to me for years proceeding this particular day. The boy that I never imagined myself being with. Yet it happened. And it was good. It is good. He’s sitting rows behind me, and he’s proud. Of me. Of himself. Of us. The dean starts talking, and we settle in for a long afternoon of ridiculously boring speeches. The ending is fast approaching, and we can taste our victory on the very tips of our tongue’s. And then it’s upon us. The end. The light at the end of the tunnel. And he’s tall. And he’s wearing the exact same thing as us. And he has the yellow fabric around his neck because he earned it. He earned it long before he ever stepped foot in this school. I can’t make out the tiny blonde curls that I run my hands through, they’re tucked away under the cap. The smile on his face makes me think of the very first time I had looked at it with more than just friendship. I’m beaming, and he’s walking up the aisle to the small stairs, taking them two at a time, briskly making his way to the podium. I wiggle in my seat, sitting up further, leaning in a bit, my fingers curled tightly around the edge, anticipating his every word. I’ve heard this speech before, millions of times, but I listen as if with virgin ears. “My fellow graduates,” his voice is loud, filling up the entirety of the arena. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I had tried to convince him to not be boring and start with that, but he wouldn’t listen. He never did about academics. “I’m so proud to be graduating with a class as exceptional as this one,” he paused, letting us have a cliche moment, “We’ve cried together, been frightened together, failed together, succeeded together, partied together,” we chuckled at the last one, some of us remembering the wilder nights of past, “We’ve studied together, but most importantly, we made this journey together,” I could tell he was choking with emotion, he did it every time he practiced, “I’ve watched us grow up and mature. We have great things coming our way, and, as my high school geography teacher would say,” his eyes scanned the crowd, searching for the one, the only, Jan Weston, “‘God bless Ronald Reagan, God bless the United States, and God bless Texas!’” The crowd roared, and we stood, pumping our fists into the air, the audience going wild with our antics, copying our movements. Many of the faces in the stands had heard that exact saying from the legend herself, but that was years ago. But we don’t talk about years ago. The crowd is still going crazy, and it takes probably five minutes to calm us down. He’s smiling when he exits the stage, and his eyes are searching for mine. I give him the reassurance he needs, and his smile grows. The dean comes back, and we stand, row by row, and names are called, diplomas are handed out, we’re smiling, cameras are flashing, memories are being made. Then he calls my name, “Shelby Perkins,” I feel my smile widen, and I step up onto the stage, my little black heels clicking on the floor. The dean hands me my diploma, tells me he’s proud of me, we smile for the camera’s, I place my tassel on the other side, and I go back to my seat. He does this for quite a while longer, and then it’s the boy’s turn. “Jakob Schwartzenberg,” and I scream and yell till my throat burns, and his face is red, but he’s smiling. Later, when the event is over, I rush out, determined to find my favorite person on campus, Jakob Schwartzenberg. “Jakob!” I squeal, rushing at his unsuspecting back, flinging myself onto him, just praying that he catches me. “Huh? What?” He goes to turn, but I’m faster, and before we can react, I already have my arms flung around his broad shoulders, my legs wrapping tightly around his waist. Luckily, his arms link through my legs, supporting me on his back, and my face is buried in his shoulder, we have yet to take off the caps and gowns. “You did great,” I tell him, but only loud enough for him to hear. In front of us, his friends are ‘awing’, but we don’t care. This happens every time. “Thanks. I was nervous about it,” he admits, his head turning just enough for him to see half my face from the corner of his eye. My lips grace his shoulder gently, “I know you were, but guess what?” “Hmm?” He hums. “We made this journey together,” I bite my lip to conceal my giggle, but my efforts prove to be in vain the second he rolls his eyes at my quoting his speech. “You’re impossible,” he mutters, but he squeezes my calves, so I know he’s just playing. “Nothing’s impossible Jakob,” I coo into his ear, “The word itself says ‘I’m possible’,” I grin, nuzzling my face into his neck, peppering it with small kisses. Jakob rolls his eyes, shaking his head, “I hate you,” he mutters. I giggle softly, “No you don’t,” I lift my head, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, “You love me and you know it. Now,” I tap his shoulder with my finger, “We have to go find our families,” I turn to look at the few of his friends that are gathered around us, “Bye guys! Good luck out there!” I call over my shoulder as Jakob starts maneuvering his way through the crowd, me clinging to his back like a koala to a tree. “There they are,” he nods into the distance, where I can just barely make out the silhouette of my father standing some, thirty feet in front of us, sunglasses covering the top half of his face, my step-mom standing patiently next to him, rolling her eyes at something he said. Jakob’s family is with them, and they’re laughing at something. “Good, let’s go forth and face the cavalry,” I whisper loud enough for him only to hear me. “We’re going to be fine, relax,” he squeezes my calves gently. “You don’t know that,” I mutter, my brown locks bouncing with the action, “Our friends are here, so I can absolutely tell you that we are not going to be fine.” “Don’t you think that’s a little overdramatic?” “Jakob, you know my family, I’m not being overdramatic.” He lets out a breathy laugh, and before either of us could say more, they finally notice us. “THERE YOU ARE!!!” Alesha yells, running toward us. I squeak, clinging tighter to Jakob, who spins real fast, both of us laughing before he gently sets me down. “Coward!” I squeal, cowering behind him. “Look who’s talking,” he looks down over his shoulder at me, amused smile in place. “Shelby Marie Perkins, you get your booty over here right now and hug me,” Alesha demands, stopping a couple feet in front of Jakob, her hands on her hips, her black and white plaid dress fanning around her waist, bright red hair framing her face, black glasses sitting nicely on the bridge of her nose. I giggle, stepping out from behind Jakob, my cap falling to one side. “Alesha!” I wiggle over to her, wrapping my arms around her in a tight hug. We’re both giggling and by this point, my poor cap has had enough, and it tumbles into the grass by our feet, increasing our giggles. “I’m so happy you were able to make it!” “Like I’d miss your graduation,” she rolls her eyes, grinning at me. “I missed you,” I shake my head, pulling back from her, my black gown now unzipped in the front, my maroon halter dress peeking out from the gown. “I missed you too you weirdo,” she giggles, moving over to embrace Jakob in a hug. “Oh I see how it is,” Joshua calls, voice thick with sass, “You’ll say hi to Alesha but not the rest of us?” His hands are placed firmly on his hips, and his bright green eyes staring accusingly at me from behind his dark blue glasses. “Oh whatever Joshua,” I roll my eyes, but a smile is in place, “I was getting there,” I make my way toward the rest of my crazy ‘siblings’. “Mm,” he turns his head away, refusing to look at me, only causing me to roll my eyes again. “I’m gonna need you to stop with all the sass, okay? Thanks.” “It’s Joshua,” Kenzie scoffs, stepping out from the huddle, “All he speaks is sass.” “Oh whatever,” Joshua rolls his eyes, looking back at us. “See?” Kenzie raises her eyebrows in confirmation. We giggle, and she pulls me into a hug, “I missed you, you stupid Pineapple.” “I missed you too Dinosaur,” we embrace tightly before pulling back, matching smiles on our faces. “How was Tech?” She rolled her eyes, “Oh you know, just like Randall,” she has a sickly sweet smile on her face as she tells me this. I laugh at her, and she smacks my arm, “Hey, not my fault you decided to be basic and go where everyone else decided to go to college,” I raise my hands in surrender just as Jakob and Alesha approach us again. “Oh no,” Jakob starts, chuckling softly once he sees my hands up, “What’d you do now?” He wraps a loose arm around my waist, pulling me softly into him. “Oh you know, she just smarted off like always,” Joshua butted in, earning an eye roll from me. “Whatever, moving on,” I roll my eyes, turning slightly to look up at Jakob, “We should probably go say hello to our families now.” He nods, “Yeah, you’re probably right,” he turns away from me to our friends, “We’ll see you at the restaurant right?” Rebekah deadpans, “No, I think we’re all going to make the eight-hour drive back to Amarillo now.” I giggle softly, shaking my head at her, “We’ll see y’all in a few.” We wave goodbye for now and turn to our waiting families. “There they are!” My step-mom, Stacy says. “Hey guys,” I smile and wave to everyone, Jakob’s arm still resting softly around my waist. The closer we get the more I can tell that my family’s been crying. “Well it took you long enough,” my dad teased, rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses. “Don’t listen to him Shel,” Stacy has a tissue in her hand, and she’s gently patting under her eyes, desperately trying to wipe the tears away. Seeing her this way, and knowing that she’s crying for so much more than the fact that her ‘kid’ finally graduated, makes tears start to gather in my own eyes. At some point, Jakob had released me, because I can no longer feel his arm around my waist. “I’m so proud of you,” she pulls me into a tight hug, and I mimic her, “She would’ve been so proud of you Shel,” she pats my hair down gently, doing her best not to mess up my curls. “Thanks, Stacy,” I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, willing the tears to disappear. She pulls back, and a small smile is sitting on her lips, “I knew you could do it,” she shakes her head, probably remembering all the times I had called her late at night crying because of my classes. “Thanks for believing in me,” I squeeze her hand tight with my free one, my cap hanging loosely from the other. “We’ve always believed in you Shelby,” my dad speaks as he walks over to us. “I’m proud of you kid,” he places a hand on my shoulder and gives it a tight squeeze. I smile up at him, “You sure you’re not disappointed that I didn’t go into the military?” I raise a brow in question. He laughs softly, shaking his head, “There’s still time for you to go.” I roll my eyes at this. “Babygirl,” my nana’s voice calls as my grandfather and her walk over to us. “Nana,” I smile, turning away from my parents briefly. “Stay there with your Daddy, let me get a picture of y’all,” she digs around in her purse, fishing for her phone. Dad and I share a look, but ultimately do as she says, “Alright, ready?” She asks, holding up the phone. I quickly put my cap back on and Dad, Stacy, and I all smile for the camera. Nana nods once. “Alright, John get over here and take one of Frank, Shelby, and I,” she passes the phone to my father, and she and the Old Man get into place. “Smile,” Dad says, quickly taking the picture. “Well, you think you’re big and bad now?” Papa, the Old Man, asks me. I roll my eyes, “Please, I was big and bad before I graduated college.” He laughs at this, shaking his head, “I can’t believe you said that,” Nana rolls her eyes at him. “Where’s that boyfriend of yours?” She asks me. “He’s right over there with his family,” I motion to a few feet away where Jakob is posing for a picture with his older siblings. “Speaking of,” I turn to my family, “I should probably go say hello. Excuse me,” I smile quickly, making my way over to Jakob. “Hey there Shelby,” his dad calls out to me, stopping me for a hug. “Hey Coach,” I grin, hugging him back. “How are you?” He smiles, releasing me from his grip. I nod, “I’m doing good,” I smile, “You guys are going to the restaurant right?” It’s his turn to nod, “Of course. Your Daddy,” he nods to where my father is standing, “checked in with us before y’all got over here.” I nod, “Good,” I smile once more. “Shelby, come here darling,” his mom calls out to me, making her way toward us. I smile widely, accepting her open arms with a hug of my own, “Jan, it’s good to see you,” I say as we embrace. “It’s good to see you too sweet girl!” She pulls away and looks at me with the utmost pride in her eyes, “I can’t believe y’all have already graduated! Time sure does fly! It feels like only yesterday Jakob was bringing you home to meet the family!” I giggle quietly, shaking my head, “I know how you feel! I sometimes can’t believe that I’ve put up with him for 6 years!” “I heard that!” Jakob accuses from behind me. “Oops?” I turn around, teasing smile in place. He has a hand over his heart, a look of mock betrayal on his face, “I can’t believe you’ve hurt me like this.” Jan and I roll our eyes, “Honey, you’re being ridiculous,” she says, motioning him over to her. “Give your momma a hug will ya?” “Yes ma’am,” he nods, walking into her open arms, hugging her tight. They embrace for a moment before she pulls away, signature smile on her face, “Now, let me get a picture of you two!” She squeals, digging her phone out of her purse. Jakob and I share a small laugh, and scoot closer to each other, our arms bound tightly around each other’s waist, my free hand setting nicely on his chest, practiced smiles ready for the camera. Jan takes two or three before releasing us, and together, Jakob, Coach, Jan, Jonathan, Anikah, and I walk over to my family. “Jakob, good to see you again son,” my dad holds out his hand, and Jakob shakes it, never breaking eye contact. “You too John,” his award-winning smile is in place, and I internally roll my eyes. “I know your mom probably already got one,” Stacy starts, “but I want a picture of the two of you,” she motions for us to scoot back a bit, and we resume the same pose as we previously inhabited. The process is pretty painless, but that’s only because Nana also took the opportunity to get her picture at the same time. “Ok one more then we’ll leave y’all alone,” Stacy promises, she turns the little ways to where our friends are standing, and motions them over. As quick as lighting, they’re all surrounding us, smiles in place, wanting to get it over with as soon as humanly possible because they too want a picture with their newly graduated friends, but they want individual pictures. “Ok, I’ll send these to you later Shel,” Stacy nods, going through the pictures she’s just taken. “My turn!” Kenzie announces, quickly pawning her phone off to Joshua since he takes the best pictures. Jakob and I laugh, shaking our heads as she squeezes in between us, muttering “Save room for Jesus you nasties!” under her breath. We all smile for the camera, and before Jakob realizes it, he’s shoved out of frame, and Kenzie’s got me locked in a semi-choke hold, grinning for the camera. “Really Kenz?” I ask after she releases me. “Yes really, don’t look at me like that heifer,” she responds, taking her phone from Joshua. “Wow Kenzie, thanks for stealing my girlfriend,” Jakob ridicules, walking back over to get set for the next picture. “You’re welcome!” She beams, moving out of the way for the next picture. The process is repeated nine more times, as all our friends gather in to get their mementos. “Ok, ok, ok,” I finally say, cutting pictures off, “We seriously need to head to the restaurant now, Dad will kill us if we’re late.” Everyone agrees, and we go our separate ways, Jakob and I splitting off from the main group to walk back to his car. “Well, today has been pretty eventful,” I comment as we walk, hand in hand through the tree-lined cobblestone path to the side parking lot. “Oh really? What makes you say that?” He rebukes. I roll my eyes, “Alright Mr. Know it all,” I shake my head, but we both laugh, the craziness from the day finally rolling away. “We really did it.” He nods, glancing over at me, “We did,” he gives me a soft smile and pauses to press a quick kiss to my lips. ✽✽✽✽ The restaurant is loud with families celebrating around us when we walk in. People are fighting to be heard over each other and the live band that is playing in the courtyard, their songs drifting through the open building. Jakob and I locate our party fairly quickly, as we’re the largest one there, and take our seats amongst our friends. “Took you guys long enough,” Rebekah greets us as I take my seat next to her. “Sorry, but uh, in case you didn’t notice, traffic is pretty bad today,” I unfold my napkin and place it neatly in my lap, smoothing the silk fabric over my thighs. “Really? I wonder why,” she places her chin in her hand, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “You know, I missed your sarcasm,” I tell her, glancing briefly at her from the corner of my eye. “I missed your stupidness too,” we share a small smile, and my attention is stolen quickly away by the sound of a knife tapping glass. Our eyes are drawn to the head of the table where Coach and my father are standing. “Neither one of us are particularly fond of words,” Coach starts, sharing a glance with Dad, “So we’ll keep this quick,” he clears his throat, “We just want to say how proud we are of the kids,” he nods at Jakob and I, whose cheeks are progressively getting redder, “We know it’s been a pretty bumpy ride, but it’s over now. Welcome to the real world kids,” they give us the smallest of smiles, and raise their glasses in our direction, “To a future filled with knowledge and love,” he ends. “To the future!” Everyone calls out, raising their glasses before taking a sip. “So how does it feel to be graduated?” Caya asks me from her spot across the table. I chuckle, “Honestly, it feels like high school graduation all over again, except ten times worse because now I actually have to do everything by myself.” “Oh bullshit,” Joshua calls, turning to look at me, “Stacy is going to pay your bills, and you know it.” He corrects me, rolling his eyes. “What’s Stacy going to do?” She asks, whipping her head in our direction at the mention of her name. “Nothing Stacy, don’t worry about it,” Josh assures her. She nods, “Alright, but just know I’m watching y’all,” she tries her best to look scary, giving us the ‘I’m watching you’ hand signal. “Of course Stacy,” Josh replies, and she turns around. “Suck up,” I say between coughs, grinning at Joshua. He scoffs, “Oh whatever, you’re just jealous because she loves me more.” I roll my eyes, “Listen, I’ve known that she loves you and Kenzie more than me since sophomore year of high school, you don’t have to keep reminding me you hoe.” ✽✽✽✽ The night wears on with more conversations reliving our days of high school and college for quite a while. Josh catches everyone up on his own graduation day, a week from now in New York, where he’ll be graduating from Columbia with a degree in marine engineering. Kenzie had graduated the week before from Tech with her own degree in ASL interpreting and tells us of her new gig with Swanson. Alesha, who had just got back from Oklahoma, makes sure we all have our arrangements made for her graduation from OU in a couple of days. Cheyenne tells us horror stories from her gig at a small tattoo parlor in Amarillo, and Rebekah relives her days from WT. I’m so engrossed in catching up with my friends’ lives, that I miss Jakob standing up, that was, until he cleared his throat, gathering the tables attention. “I have something I want to say,” he looks a little nervous, and my brows knit in mild concern. I miss the obvious giggling from my friends around me and somehow miss the knowing smiles of both Jakob’s family and my own. Jakob turns to me, smiling down at me, he offers a hand, which I take gingerly, standing up carefully, so I don’t topple over. “Shelby, we’ve been together for the past six years, and while we’ve had our ups and downs, I wouldn’t have wanted to spend those years with anyone else,” he pauses, looking down at our hands, our friends’ squealing amplifying a bit, “We just went through a major milestone, and while I should probably let us relish in it a bit longer before springing something new on us, I couldn’t think of a better time than now, while we’re surrounded by our friends and our family to do this,” he pauses again, and I can feel tears start to well in my eyes, I have an idea of where this is leading to and as the puzzle pieces start to click, he continues. “You’re the most intriguing girl I’ve ever met in my life. You know exactly how to get on my everlasting nerves,” our loved ones laugh at this, “but you also know how to care for me when I’m down, or sick. You know just what to say when I’m stressed out and having a bad day. You’ve seen me at the lowest of lows and the highest of highs, and I’ve seen you in the same light as well. We’ve made it this far, and I have no doubt that we can make it farther,” he sighs, and slowly, still holding my hand, of course, he gets lower to the ground until he’s on one knee, fiddling in his pocket for a ring box, he opens it to reveal a gorgeous, princess cut ring, two carrots in size, “I guess what I’m trying to say is, Shelby Marie Perkins, will you please do the honors of marrying me?” Behind us, everyone at the table lets out a collective “aww” as they all wait readily for my answer. I can barely form words past the lump in my throat, so for now, all I do is nod. “Yes,” I manage to squeak out, “Yes Jakob,” I swallow the lump in my throat, the tears falling freely now, “Yes I’ll marry you,” he grins up at me before slipping the ring on with ease, standing quickly to share a single kiss while our family whoops and hollers from around us. “I knew she was gonna say yes!” Kenzie squeals, hitting Josh’s arm in excitement. Joshua slaps her hands away, “Hoe everyone knew she was going to say yes,” he rolls his eyes, but his smile is still there. “I can't’ believe our babies are engaged!” Stacy squeals to Jan, who nods in agreement, wiping her eyes with the corner of her napkin. ✽✽✽✽ The rest of the night is filled with many congratulations and excited wedding talk from all the girls. Stacy and Jan are talking a mile a minute about how much work there is to be done while Kenzie and Kyah fight over who’s going to be the maid of honor. My mind is racing with all the realizations that the day has sprung on me. Not only am I a freshly graduated college student, but an engaged freshly graduated college student. What could possibly go wrong there? So much, as it turns out. So, so, so much. Granted, it didn’t happen for some time, but still. Taglist: @sincerelymlg @heavenly—holland @hazhasmycoffee @nilletellsstories @all-american-fangirl

#heavenly--osterfiled #seven marriages later #original content

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donnabroadway · 6 years ago

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Before Christian Life, There was Central Church of Christ

Death does something weird to a family. It unites people who haven’t spoken since Reagan was president, it brings out relatives, who may as well be dead because it’s been so long since we’ve seen them, and it ignites long forgotten memories. It’s like an unidentified scent that reminds you of that random time at Grandma’s. That’s what my cousin’s untimely death, at only 32 years old, has done for me. It has to have been at least 5 years since I last saw him. I spent some time with my aunt and he was there with his family. We really didn’t talk but that was the last time I saw him.

The funniest thing about his death is that it brings back memories of my time before I became a member of my church, 19 years ago at 14. Before Christian Life became the family church, Central Church of Christ, was the unofficial family church. My aunt was the only one who attended church regularly and she basically lived at Central Church of Christ. For whatever reason, there was no family church, on either side of my family, so Central Church of Christ was it. It was the place we attended service, when we needed to go, and the place we had family funerals. When we spent the weekend, or summers with my aunt, we often spent so much time at Central Church of Christ that they were our second family. The first lady would line us up by age and give us snacks or candy and that’s how I remember I’m one month older than my cousin. That month meant I was an old lady and he would never forget it. I remember talking to my aunt’s church friends and making friends with the other young people. When we were with her, it was a marathon of shopping, church, either for service or to socialize, eating, and back to church for either service or socializing. As a young person, I didn’t realize how much time we spent there. Before I started my journey at Christian Life, I almost got baptized at Central Church, but we found our own church home and I got baptized there. At Christian Life, I found a home. I joined the youth group, got to know other young people, and found my Christian identity. The thing that my cousin’s death makes me most grateful for is that time spent at Central Church of Christ.

#ripcuz

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westerlyroleplay · 2 years ago

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NAME: James Breckenridge GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cis Woman / She/Her AGE & DATE OF BIRTH: 42 years old / February 6th HOMETOWN: Westerly, RI TIME IN WESTERLY: Returned 3 years ago RESIDENCE: Misquamicut OCCUPATION: Financial Analyst

I HIT MY PEAK AT —— seven.

Named after her grandfather, James Catherine Breckenridge comes from a long lineage, all drowning in old money. Rhode Island was always kind to the Breckenridge family, and most of them became notable figures in the community in which they lived. James was no different. The news of her birth came with excitement and love, the first girl born in the family since her eldest cousin. And the girls just kept coming. Billy and Amy gave birth to two more girls after James arrived, Reagan and Parker. Together they were an endlessly happy family with enough means to spare. Billy was often angry, though, mostly at the universe, not at his family. He was often seen stomping around their home, complaining about competitors in the yacht business and buddies in Vegas. It was known within the family that Billy had a habit of throwing away funds on savory affairs. Mostly gambling and horse racing. Vegas was like a second home. Regardless, he did everything in his power to be a father to his girls. Teaching them life lessons about wisdom, life, and health. The lessons often came at the expense of gentle sentiments, leaving out fatherly love. But he tried his best and his daughters loved him despite any and all tribulations.

Growing up is easy, and being young is even easier. James is the rebellious tomboy of the family, posing as a bad influence on her friends and peers. She finds closeness in a best friend, Rebekah, and the two of them embark on late-night booze crusades on her family’s boats. James’ adolescence is filled with moments like this. Fun, rebellion, and schoolyard antics. She excels as a student too, bringing home good grades to a proud father and a loving mother. And when winter break comes, she heads to Pennsylvania where her grandfather lives. She watches him write music and coo about her late grandmother, Marjorie. James was a business owner turned folk musician and he has always been James’ true idol. Sharing a name with him is a thing she carries with pride.

When James finally comes of age, she changes. Her youth had come and gone and suddenly she was off to college, studying subjects she didn’t entirely care for. The future didn’t exist and that often bothered her. She had no idea what to do with her life other than work for the family business. Eventually, she studied to become a financial analyst and kept at it until graduating. She started working for the family, keeping track of their funds and occasionally helping repair boats on the bay when needed. Billy always insisted that his children be trained in a multitude of areas, no matter how small or insignificant.

Rhode Island is where James remains for the largest part of her adulthood. She has different lovers, one being a woman she’s known since childhood. Betty. As teenagers, the two of them ran off and got matching tattoos. James has “Saturn” on her right shoulder blade and Betty has “Moon”, as the two always exclaimed that they loved each other to “the moon and to Saturn”. Their love soon fizzled out after growing apart as people, much to the devastation of them both. Since then, James has kept herself together, working and attempting to find herself again after sudden heartbreak.

That’s when her grandfather becomes sick. His memory is going and he can’t quite be alone anymore, so James packs up and heads to Pennsylvania for a little while. She takes care of James, feeling a strange sense of doom lingering inside her stomach. She couldn’t lose her grandfather. For as long as she could remember, he was someone that was meant to live forever. Eventually, she decides to move both of them back to Rhode Island after three years away. James was starting to get a little better. He was still experiencing memory loss but he was better than he was from the start. The two of them head back to Westerly where care over James has been transferred to Amy. James purchases a beach house in Misquamicut.

Being home has done James well. She missed the sea air and her old friends, as well as her old haunts. When it comes to life, she’s still lacking inspiration but believes she’ll find it somewhere along the way. Working with her family is enough to satisfy her for the time being, being out on the ocean does wonders too.

Portrayed by MINKA KELLY, written by MELANIE.

#t.#f.#fl.#seven #minka kelly #melanie #james breckenridge

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the-stories-in-my-head-95 · 7 years ago

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Star Crossed- Part Two

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary- You were the adopted daughter Frank Reagan, the Police Commissioner of New York City. He had adopted you when you were 4, bringing you into a large family- something you’ve never had before. You decide to go to Harvard- Like your older brother had. It’s there you meet Bucky Barnes, heir to the New York Mob. The two of you fall in love despite your different backgrounds. Will your families approve?

Message- Here’s part two of my mob au/ blue bloods crossover!! Sorry if it sucks!

WARNING- readers parents OD’d. Mob au. Reader might get arrested later on. . Family abandonment. Mentions of suicide.

Part One

Word Count- 1199

Things with Bucky had progressed well over the last several months. The spring semester was coming to an end in the next couple of weeks.

“Hey!” You say as you stand in front a sitting Bucky. His eyes were focused on his text book, so he hadn’t seen you approaching your tree. “You’re in my spot.” You joke.

“Ha-ha.” Bucky says as he puts his book down. He smiles up and you and you sink down and sit in his lap. He then pulls you closer to his chest. “So I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh no, that’s never good.” You joke and Bucky laughs a bit.

“Hush, I’m being serious.” Bucky starts. “I-I want you to meet my Dad.”

“Your Dad is in prison.” You mumble, looking at Bucky with a confused expression.

“I-I know. The weekend we get back to New York they have a visitor’s day. I-I want to introduce you to everyone and the easiest way to get their approval is to get Dads approval.” Bucky mutters, looking stressed.

“W-What if he doesn’t approve.” You whisper.

“Then we run away to Canada.” Bucky says, smiling at you.

“I love that plan.” You murmur.

***

You and Bucky were currently sitting at a circular table in the prison that houses his father. Bucky’s leg was bouncing nervously, so you put your hand on his knee. He looks at you and you smile reassuringly.

“I’m nervous.” Bucky mumbles.

“Don’t be. If all else fails, we still have Canada.” You murmur and Bucky starts to laugh. Then the prisoners walk in and Bucky stiffens a bit. A man that looks like an older version of Bucky walks over to the two of you and sits down.

“Hey, Dad.” Bucky says as he smiles nervously. “This is my girlfriend, Y/N Reagan.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Sir.” You murmur.

“Call me James, Honey.” James says as he smiles at you. “Buck’s told me all about you.”

“Everything?” You ask nervously.

“Well not that you’re the Commissioners kid, I figured that one out on my own.” James says as he grins as you and Bucky.

“Y-You’re not mad?” You whisper.

“Nah, can’t help who ya fall in love with. I’m not gonna fault you or Junior on falling for each other, you’re still kids, shouldn’t be caught up in the family businesses yet.” James says.

“Oh.” You say, shocked at this.

“I’ve already told the family too. They won’t be giving yous any trouble and if they do, come to me, alright.” James says seriously.

“Thanks, Dad.” Bucky says, smiling at you and his father. The three of you spend the rest of the visit talking about school.

“So when are you two kids gonna get hitched?” James asks towards the end of the hour. “I’m only asking cause I’m getting out in a couple years and it would be nice to be at my son’s wedding.” You and Bucky look at each other in panic.

“We’ll definitely wait until you can be there, Dad.” Bucky says.

“Good.” James says and then he guards signal that it’s time for everyone to leave. “I’ll see you kids soon, okay?”

“Of course!” Bucky says and you all say goodbye and then you leave the prison. “That went well.” He says as the two of you walk to his car.

“Better than I expected.” You murmur.

“Do you want to do something in the city before you have to head home?” Bucky asks.

“Sure!” You say with a grin.

***

That night you get home before dinner. It’s quiet, which is unusual for the Reagan household. You walk through the house, until you find your Dad in the study.

“I got an interesting call today.” Your Dad says, without saying hello.

“Oh?” You ask.

“A warden for one of New York’s prisons called me. James Barnes son brought his girlfriend to meet his father today. I was curious as to why the Warden thought I needed to know this that was until he mentioned your name.” Your Dad says.

“I-I can explain.” You stammer out.

“Explain what exactly? You’ve been dating a mobster? You’re going to break up with him. Do you understand?” Your Dad says in his Commissioner voice.

“N-No. I-I love him. I’m not going to do that.” You say.

“Then get out.” Your Dad yells.

“What?” You whisper.

“You heard me, Get out and don’t come back until you’ve seen sense and broken up with that boy.” Your Dad says. You stand there for a couple more seconds until it all sinks in, then you turn on your heels and run out of the house, sobbing. You walk a couple blocks up the road, to a park and you sit on a bench and pull out your phone, to call Bucky. He answers on the first ring.

“Hey, Baby, what’s up?” Bucky asks.

“My Dad found out about us and he kicked me out.” You manage to say in between sobs.

“Where are you? I’ll come get you and you can stay with me.” Bucky says and you raddle off the address of the park.

“I’m on my way.” Bucky says. Then you hang up the phone. A little while later a sports car pulls up to the curb and Bucky comes flying out of it. He pulls you into a hug and murmurs reassurances into your ear, before he coxes you into the car. Your sobs eventually die down and you fall asleep.

***

You wake up the next morning to whispers. So you open your eyes and see 2 women standing near your Bed.

“Hello.” You murmur.

“Hello Y/N, Bucky went out to get you some things he should be back soon. I’m Pepper, Bucky’s-.”

“Older sister. So you must be his cousin Natasha.” You say.

“He’s been telling you about us?” Natasha asks curiously and you nod your head.

“He wanted me to be prepared. I know that you’re seeing his best friend Steve and that your best friend is named Clint. Peppers married to Tony. Tony’s cousin is named Bruce and Tony’s best friend is named Rhodey.” You say with a smile.

“Huh, guess we can skip all of the introductions then.” Pepper says with a smile.

“Hey, Doll, you’re up.” Bucky says as he walks back into the room. “I picked you up some clothes and toiletries. Figured we can go shopping for other stuff tomorrow, once you’ve had a day to rest.”

“Thank you.” You murmur and you pull him into a hug. Pepper and Natasha leave quietly.

“I-I also got you something else.” Bucky murmurs as he slides down onto one knee. “Now, I know we promised my Dad that we wouldn’t get married until he gets out. But I figured we could be engaged for a couple of years. I-I wanted you to know that you still have family.” Bucky rambles, nervously. “My Ma gave me this ring before she passed, she told me to give it to the girl I wanted to love forever and that’s you. So would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?

“Yes” you whisper and he slides the ring onto your finger, smiling up at you.

Tag List- @fallen-wolf22 @inumorph @letmestargaze36 @mtmousie @girlbehindthepine @fandomlady-scar @umlvk @stumblingintowonderland @whiskeyandwashitape @bandsandanimefreak @that-one-book-girl

Permanent Tag List- @spideytrxsh @just-another-teen01 @iamwarrenspeace @thevillainway @thekayceenicole @loneliestlittlerainbow @jenniegs @queenrhae666 @thedoctorscamanion @loveisfriendship @kanupps06 @-fuck-you-world- @mymourningtea @sydsmut @dragolena @cassiopeia-barrow @marvels-ghost @lilylovelyxo @okayputta @batmanzplan @helgahuffelpuff @sai-kida134 @mylifeisbeingconsumedbypineapple @fandoms-fandoms-everywhere99

Marvel Tag List- @tabziecat @i-love-superhero @i-hate-the-pie-people @i-just-wanna-run-hell @theoutlinez @huntermichelle @tonystarkismyboy @asexualmarauder @ravenclaw-fangirl-7

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #winter solider x reader #winter solider imagine #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #marvel masterlist #blue bloods imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #reader insert #mob au #modern au #college au #cop au #criminal au #bucky barnes

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britesparc · 4 years ago

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Weekend Top Ten #478

Top Ten 1990s Films I’ve Still Never Got Round to Watching

I came of age in the nineties. I was born in 1981, and by the time 1990 rolled round I was already eight years old; you consume a lot in those eight years, as my lifelong devotion to Transformers (which started in 1984, when I was all of two) will attest. But really it was the nineties that shaped me, I think, more than anything. There’s a weird kind of Ground Zero in 1993 which I feel defines so much about different aspects of my psyche, from The X-Files to Jurassic Park; I didn’t know it at the time, but that’s also when Batman was dealing with a broken back and Superman was dealing with being dead. If we stretch it a little either side of ‘93, you get Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction, two hugely seminal films from a director whose rise kinda defined the decade in film. And 1993 is the year I started reading Empire magazine, a publication which really cultivated my love of film, turning it from being “I like watching movies” to being a true hobby, probably the biggest and most abiding one of my life. And it’s through the pages of Empire that I was introduced to dozens of films that piqued my interest in lots of ways; quirky American indies, prestige historical dramas, wacky-looking arthouse fair, and loads more besides. Truth be told, as a regular visitor to Ye Olde Video Shoppe, my head was often turned by the exotica on display. Sometimes it was the cover art, delightfully lurid in the eighties; sometimes it was the title; sometimes it was just me wondering what on Earth this film could be about.

So through scenic trips round the HMV video isle and flicking through Empire and listening to the sage wisdom of Sir Barry of Norman, I was exposed to loads of films that just looked interesting; films I wanted to see. Sometimes I was too young, of course, but these films – unseen – expanded my interest in the artform because I knew that they were there. I knew that I’d be able to see them eventually. I dreamed as a young teen of being older and independent, of taking myself to see earnest and adult films; the latest Tarantino or Scorsese, a Naked or a Wild at Heart. I wanted to be a smart-arse cinephile university student, probably with a goatee and a ponytail, the kind of character that I was too young to realise was already a comedy cliché by the mid-nineties.

I got older, and I saw a lot of movies, but I read about a lot more, and quite frankly even back then there just weren’t enough hours in the day or days in the week. I had friends, schoolwork, Red Alert, Red Dwarf, and loads of writing to do. And, even back then, I have to say I’d have chosen Judge Dredd over Before Sunrise, or Godzilla over Pi.

So these films go on your backburner. I read the articles in Empire, I watched the trailers (remember when Empire would stick a VHS full of movie trailers to the front cover? Good times), I scanned the posters in foyers, the boxes in Blockbuster, and the nascent and ever-growing racks of DVDs as the decade wound on. My time became scanter, the blockbusters bigger and more encompassing (Star Wars fever lasted at least three years), and still those quirky-looking indies, those intelligent-looking dramas, those intense-looking B-pictures all went unseen.

No worries; I’ll see them eventually.

And then a funny thing happens. You turn around and you realise that twenty-odd years have passed. That film starring young up-and-comer who was in Schindler’s List? The one with the unknown, good-looking actor who it turns out has a new paranormal sci-fi series starting on BBC2? That was a long time ago, entire series, entire movie franchises have come and gone. And I’ve still not seen these films.

So here we are then; a list of films I’ve not seen, but have wanted to, in some cases for nigh-on three decades. It sounds ridiculous when you say it like that, and it makes me wonder what recent films I’ll end up skipping on till I’m sixty or seventy. And, also, I’m going to take this list as a challenge; I’m going to try, within the next year, to watch all of these films.

Or at least I’ll try to do it before 2051.

There’s actually an added level of relevance this week. My Nanna turned 90 on Saturday. 90! So I was kinda primed to do something to do with the number 90, and as it happened this was a half-written list that I’d not got round to finishing yet. I was actually going to do a revisit of my 90th Top Ten, but as that was actually “Favourite Movies of the 1990s”, this feels like a fitting tribute, both to my grandmother (90!) and to my 90th list.

Oh, one last thing: this week I’ve just decided to do them in chronological order, rather than a “proper” ranking, because I couldn’t really decide which I wanted to see more. I’ve lived with these things for thirty years!

Malcom X (1992): there was no way I knew who Malcolm X was when this came out, but I remember seeing the posters and being curious. As I grew older, the stereotypical narrative of “militant Malcom versus peaceful Dr. King” emerged, and I was even more curious about this film. And then I began to see more films by Spike Lee, or starring Denzel Washington, and I realised just how huge a deal this must have been in the nineties. So here we are, 29 years later, and I still really want to see it.

My Cousin Vinny (1992): I knew Joe Pesci back in 1992 because of Home Alone, and also – if I’m honest – because of Goodfellas, which I’d have watched on video around the same time (shocking, I know). But all the same, I probably wasn’t that interested in a relatively-straight-looking courtroom drama starring the Karate Kid. However, I do remember people talking about it; I think my older cousins may even have rented it. And as I got a bit older, and wondered why people made jokes about Marisa Tomei winning an Oscar, I became really curious. So, by the time I was in my mid-teens, it became an early-90s film I really wanted to see. And I still haven’t. Ahem.

In the Line of Fire (1993): not everything here is going to be some earnest drama or forgotten indie movie; there’s a very good chance I would have seen Fire back in the day. I mean, my dad loves Eastwood, so it could have been something my parents rented. In ’93, I wouldn’t really have known about the political aspect of the film (I remember watching The Bodyguard and being really confused when one character talked about Reagan being shot, something I was utterly clueless about), but all the same, an Eastwood action-thriller is actually something I probably would have enjoyed. As time’s gone on, that feeling has increased.

Kalifornia (1993): weird to think that nowadays, the biggest draw for me with this film is seeing a pre-X-Files David Duchovny. Back then, I kinda had a thing for Juliette Lewis, and Brad Pitt was the epitome of cool. It probably hit me just as I was getting into Tarantino (not that I’d have seen any of his films in ’93 or ’94), and – in my head – it felt like one of those cool adult films that explored themes of violence in America. I’m not sure it reviewed all that well at the time, but all the same, I’ve always wanted to see it.

Quiz Show (1994): I think that, by 1994, I’d fixed Ralph Fiennes in my head as this young up-and-coming English actor who was going to conquer Hollywood. I’m sure by then I’d seen Schindler’s List; too young to go to the pictures, obviously, but it was an immediate rental. And ’94 was when I was really taking movies seriously for the first time; devouring Empire magazine, religiously tuning into The Film Programme. I’d probably never seen a Robert Redford film, but I knew who he was because he was so famous he permeated popular culture; so I knew it was a big deal whenever he directed. I knew nothing (still know hardly anything!) about the scandal the film depicts. But I was phenomenally intrigued. It’s on Disney+ now, I think. I’ve still not got round to it.

Reality Bites (1994): I don’t really know anything about this. It’s, like, Gen-X youngsters getting all angsty, right? And it’s Winona Ryder. If I “kinda” had a thing for Juliette Lewis, I definitely had a thing for Winona Ryder. But I remember seeing the poster in my local Video Emporium. And learning, years later, that it was an early (debut?) Ben Stiller film makes it all the more interesting. I think watching it now would be like opening a time capsule to the early nineties, and it’d be phenomenally interesting; but I know as the decade drew on, I felt this slight disconnect, like I should have watched these young-centric films that critics said “defined” the decade (see also Before Sunrise and Dazed and Confused). Still haven’t!

Things to Do in Denver When You’re Dead (1995): if I was just getting “into” Tarantino in ’93, by ’95 I was fully in the tank. And this is when the first wave of “inspired by Tarantino” films crested; see also the phenomenal (but, for me, phenomenally tainted) The Usual Suspects. Denver was one of the first ones I remember being talked about. Truth is, I don’t remember much about it; but it had one of those impossible-to-forget titles which, post-Reservoir Dogs, were very popular in nineties indie crime flicks (see also Killing Zoe, Albino Alligator, and Man Bites Dog). It had a very mid-nineties cast of interesting actors that I liked (Andy Garcia, Steve Buscemi, Christopher Lloyd); I think this was the film where someone told me that a character is shot up the arsehole to slowly bleed to death. That was probably why I wanted to see it, but also the whole post-Pulp American indie vibe played a huge part; these sorts of films just seemed so cool to me.

To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar (1995): mid-nineties I was very much into Patrick Swayze (Ghost! Point Break!) and Wesley Snipes (Demolition Man! Passenger 57!). Despite having seen Super Mario Bros, I’m afraid I did not at all recognise John Leguizamo, for which I can only apologise; by the time Spawn came round, he was a huge draw for me, if that helps (I imagine it don’t). anyway, I’ve gone off on a tangent. Seeing these three big macho dudes play drag queens was a big deal for me; even back then, I felt that it was good for them to do something that seemed progressive, or ran counter to outdated notions of masculinity. Was it really that progressive? I’m not sure; obviously I’ve not seen the film, but it seemed that way to me as a kid. It probably helped normalise the idea of non-heteronormative performance, in the same way The Birdcage or Philadelphia did. I’m not saying these are ideal interpretations of diverse sexuality, but when all you know is utter straightness, they were a window into a wider world. Also it’s got a hell of a title.

The People Versus Larry Flynt (1996): we’re now getting very deep into reading-Empire-religiously territory, and also David-is-old-enough-to-see-a-15 territory (the first 18 I saw was Face/Off the following year). We’re also – and I want to put this delicately – in an era where the discussion or depiction of pornography in a film was, shall we say, intriguing. Sue me; I was 14. The thought of taking a porn publisher and making him a good guy in a freedom of speech battle meant that, not only might it feature a bit of filth, but I could also root for him against the forces of censorship. I loved Woody Harrelson, too; and the insanely controversial (and banned!) poster is hilarious, if a bit much nowadays. Anyway, I wanted to see what I hoped was an intelligent and funny biopic that might also be a little bit rude; it made me feel grown-up and sophisticated. I wonder if I’d still feel the same if I watched in 2021.

Gods and Monsters (1999): jumping to the end of the decade and whilst I know full well why I’d be so excited to see Brendan Fraser in a more serious role, I’m not sure why I’d have know Ian McKellen; maybe The Keep? Or just reading about Richard III (I’d not seen it at that point)? Certainly I was very excited for his casting both in X-Men and Lord of the Rings, so I must have known who he was. Anyway, this film sounded great; a biopic of the director of Frankenstein, and also what appeared to be a rather tragic romance. I loved stories about old Hollywood, and – paging Wong Foo – stories about LGBTQ+ characters, even then. And I wanted to see what one of my favourite Hollywood action stars was up to, as well as support a British actor who I knew was in consideration for an Oscar. Knowing more about the situation, the movies, and the actors, I’d really love to see it now.

Well, there we are: ten films I can’t believe I’ve still not got round to seeing. I’m a bit rubbish, really. And these of course are just the tip of the iceberg (don’t worry, I did see Titanic). Throw a stick at an episode of The Film Programme in the nineties, and you’ll hit a film I was really interested in but still haven’t seen.

Mind you, I’m not dead yet. There’s still time… and I know Quiz Show is on Disney+…

#top ten #films #movies #1990s #nineties #90s

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blackkudos · 7 years ago

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Coretta Scott King

Coretta Scott King (/kɔːˈrɛtə/; April 27, 1927 – January 30, 2006) was an American author, activist, civil rights leader, and the wife of Martin Luther King, Jr. from 1953 until his death in 1968. Coretta Scott King helped lead the African-American Civil Rights Movement in the 1960s. King was an active advocate for African-American equality. King met her husband while in college, and their participation escalated until they became central to the movement. In her early life, Coretta was an accomplished singer, and she often incorporated music into her civil rights work.

King played a prominent role in the years after her husband's 1968 assassination when she took on the leadership of the struggle for racial equality herself and became active in the Women's Movement and the LGBT rights movement. King founded the King Center and sought to make his birthday a national holiday. King finally succeeded when Ronald Reagan signed legislation which established Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. She later broadened her scope to include both opposition to apartheid and advocacy for LGBT rights. King became friends with many politicians before and after Martin Luther King's death, most notably John F. Kennedy, Lyndon B. Johnson, and Robert F. Kennedy. John F. Kennedy's phone call to her during the 1960 election was what she liked to believe was behind his victory.

In August 2005, King suffered a stroke and was left paralyzed on her right side and unable to speak. Five months later, she died of respiratory failure due to complications from ovarian cancer. King's funeral was attended by four of five living U.S. Presidents and by over 10,000 people. She was temporarily buried on the grounds of the King Center, until she was interred next to her husband. King was honored for her activism in promoting human rights. King was inducted into the Alabama Women's Hall of Fame in 2009. She was the first African-American to lie in State in the Georgia State Capitol upon her death. King has been referred to as "First Lady of the Civil Rights Movement."

Childhood and education

Coretta Scott was born in Marion, Alabama, the third of four children of Obadiah Scott (1899–1998) and Bernice McMurry Scott (1904–1996). She was born in her parents' home with her paternal great-grandmother Delia Scott, a former slave, presiding as midwife. Coretta's mother became known for her musical talent and singing voice. As a child Bernice attended the local Crossroads School and only had a fourth grade education. Bernice's older siblings, however, attended boarding school at the Booker T. Washington founded Tuskegee Institute. The senior Mrs. Scott worked as a school bus driver, a church pianist, and for her husband in his business ventures. She served as Worthy Matron for her Eastern Star chapter and was a member of the local Literacy Federated Club.

Obie, Coretta's father, was the first black person in their neighborhood to own a vehicle. Before starting his own businesses he worked as a policeman. Along with his wife, he ran a clothes shop far from their home and later opened a general store. He also owned a lumber mill, which was burned down by white neighbors after Scott refused to lend his mill to a white male logger Her maternal grandparents were Mollie (née Smith; 1868 – d.) and Martin van Buren McMurry (1863–1950) – both were of African-American and Irish descent. Mollie was born a slave to plantation owner Jim Blackburn and Adeline (Blackburn) Smith. Coretta's maternal grandfather, Martin, was born to a slave of Black Native American ancestry, and her white master who never acknowledged Martin as his son. He eventually owned a 280-acre farm. Because of his diverse origins, Martin appeared to be White; however, he displayed contempt for the notion of passing. As a self-taught reader with little formal education, he is noted for having inspired Coretta's passion for education. Coretta's paternal grandparents were Cora (née McLaughlin; 1876 – 1920) and Jefferson F. Scott (1873–1941). Cora died before Coretta's birth. Jeff Scott was a farmer and a prominent figure in the rural black religious community; he was born to former slaves Willis and Delia Scott.

At age 10, Coretta worked to increase the family's income. She had an older sister named Edythe Scott Bagley (1924–2011) an older sister named Eunice who did not survive childhood, and a younger brother named Obadiah Leonard (1930–2012). According to a DNA analysis, she was partly descended from the Mende people of Sierra Leone. The Scott family had owned a farm since the American Civil War, but were not particularly wealthy. During the Great Depression the Scott children picked cotton to help earn money and shared a bedroom with their parents. At age 12, Coretta Scott entered Lincoln School as a seventh grader, and with temperament changes. Scott also developed an interest in the opposite sex.

Coretta described herself as a tomboy during her childhood, primarily because she could climb trees and recalled wrestling boys. In addition, she also mentioned having been stronger than a male cousin and threatening before accidentally cutting that same cousin with an axe. His mother threatened her, and along with the words of her siblings, stirred her to becoming more ladylike once she got older. She saw irony in the fact that despite this early physical activities, she still was involved in nonviolent movements. Her brother Obadiah thought she always "tried to excel in everything she did." Her sister Edythe believed her personality was like their grandmother Cora McLaughlin Scott's, after whom she was named. Though lacking formal education themselves, Coretta Scott's parents intended for all of their children to be educated. Coretta quoted her mother as having said, "My children are going to college, even if it means I only have but one dress to put on."

The Scott children attended a one room elementary school 5 miles (8 km) from their home and were later bused to Lincoln Normal School, which despite being 9 mi (14 km) from their home, was the closest black high school in Marion, Alabama, due to racial segregation in schools. The bus was driven by Coretta's mother Bernice, who bused all the local black teenagers. By the time Scott had entered the school, Lincoln had suspended tuition and charged only four dollars and fifty cents per year. In her last two years there, Scott became the leading soprano for the school's senior chorus. Scott directed a choir at her home church in North Perry Country. Coretta Scott graduated valedictorian from Lincoln Normal School in 1945 where she played trumpet and piano, sang in the chorus, and participated in school musicals and enrolled at Antioch College in Yellow Springs, Ohio during her senior year at Lincoln. After being accepted to Antioch, Scott applied for Interracial Scholarship Fund for financial aid. During her last two years in high school, Coretta lived with her parents. Her older sister Edythe already attended Antioch as part of the Antioch Program for Interracial Education, which recruited non-white students and gave them full scholarships in an attempt to diversify the historically white campus. Coretta said of her first college:

Antioch had envisioned itself as a laboratory in democracy, but had no black students. (Edythe) became the first African American to attend Antioch on a completely integrated basis, and was joined by two other black female students in the fall of 1943. Pioneering is never easy, and all of us who followed my sister at Antioch owe her a great debt of gratitude.

Coretta studied music with Walter Anderson, the first non-white chair of an academic department in a historically white college. She also became politically active, due largely to her experience of racial discrimination by the local school board. She became active in the nascent civil rights movement; she joined the Antioch chapter of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) and the college's Race Relations and Civil Liberties Committees. The board denied her request to perform her second year of required practice teaching at Yellow Springs public schools, for her teaching certificate Coretta Scott appealed to the Antioch College administration, which was unwilling or unable to change the situation in the local school system and instead employed her at the college's associated laboratory school for a second year.

New England Conservatory of Music and Martin Luther King Jr.

Coretta transferred out of Antioch when she won a scholarship to the New England Conservatory of Music in Boston. It was while studying singing at that school with Marie Sundelius that she met Martin Luther King, Jr. after mutual friend Mary Powell gave King her phone number after he asked about girls on the campus. Coretta was the only one remaining after Powell named two girls and King proved to not be impressed with the other. Scott initially showed little interest in meeting him, even after Powell told her that he had a promising future, but eventually relented and agreed to the meeting. King called her on the telephone and when the two met in person, Scott was surprised by how short he was. King would tell her that she had all the qualities that he was looking for in a wife, which Scott dismissed since the two had only just met. She told him "I don't see how you can say that. You don't even know me." But King was assured and asked to see her again. She readily accepted his invitation to a weekend party.

She continued to see him on a regular basis in the early months of 1952. Two weeks after meeting Scott, King wrote to his mother that he had met his wife. Their dates usually consisted of political and racial discussions, and in August of that year Coretta met King's parents Martin Luther King, Sr. and Alberta Williams King. Before meeting Martin, Coretta had been in relationships her entire time in school, but never had any she cared to develop. Once meeting with her sister Edythe face-to-face, Coretta detailed her feelings for the young aspiring minister and discussed the relationship as well. Edythe was able to tell her sister had legitimate feelings for him, and she also became impressed with his overall demeanor.

Despite envisioning a career for herself in the music industry, Coretta knew that would not be possible if she were to marry Martin Luther King. However, since King possessed many of the qualities she liked in a man, she found herself "becoming more involved with every passing moment." When asked by her sister what made King so "appealing" to her she responded, "I suppose it's because Martin reminds me so much of our father." At that moment, Scott's sister knew King was "the one."

King's parents visited him in the fall and had suspicions about Coretta Scott after seeing how clean his apartment was. While the Kings had tea and meals with their son and Scott, Martin, Sr. turned his attention to her and insinuated that her plans of a career in music were not fitting for a Baptist minister's wife. After Coretta did not respond to his questioning of their romance being serious, Martin, Sr. asked if she took his son "seriously". King's father also told her that there were many other women his son was interested in, and had "a lot to offer." After telling him that she had "a lot to offer" as well, Martin Luther King, Sr. and his wife went on to try and meet with members of Coretta's family. Once the two obtained Edythe's number from Coretta, they sat down with her and had lunch with her. During their time together, Martin Luther King, Sr. tried to ask Edythe about the relationship between her sister and his son. Edythe insisted that her sister was an excellent choice for Martin Luther King, Jr., but also felt that Coretta did not need to bargain for a husband.

On Valentine's Day 1953, the couple announced their plans to marry in the Atlanta Daily World. With a wedding set in June, only four months away at that time, Coretta still did not have a commitment to marrying King and consulted with her sister in a letter sent just before Easter Vacation. King's father had expressed resentment in his choice of Coretta over someone from Alabama, and accused his son of spending too much time with her and neglecting his studies. Martin took his mother into another room and told her of his plans to marry Coretta and told her the same thing when he drove her home later while also berating her for not having made a good impression on his father. When Martin declared his intentions to get a doctorate and marry Coretta after, Martin, Sr. finally gave his blessing. In 1964, the Time profile of Martin Luther King, Jr., when he was chosen as Time's "Man of the Year", referred to her as "a talented young soprano." She was a member of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority

Coretta Scott and Martin Luther King, Jr. were married on June 18, 1953, on the lawn of her mother's house; the ceremony was performed by Martin Jr.'s father, Martin Luther King, Sr. Coretta had the vow to obey her husband removed from the ceremony, which was unusual for the time. After completing her degree in voice and piano at the New England Conservatory, she moved with her husband to Montgomery, Alabama, in September 1954. Mrs. King recalled: "After we married, we moved to Montgomery, Alabama, where my husband had accepted an invitation to be the pastor of Dexter Avenue Baptist Church. Before long, we found ourselves in the middle of the Montgomery bus boycott, and Martin was elected leader of the protest movement. As the boycott continued, I had a growing sense that I was involved in something so much greater than myself, something of profound historic importance. I came to the realization that we had been thrust into the forefront of a movement to liberate oppressed people, not only in Montgomery but also throughout our country, and this movement had worldwide implications. I felt blessed to have been called to be a part of such a noble and historic cause."

Civil Rights Movement (1955–1968)

On September 1, 1954, Martin Luther King, Jr. became the full-time pastor of Dexter Avenue Baptist Church. It was a sacrifice for Coretta, who had to give up her dreams of becoming a classical singer. Her devotion to the cause while giving up on her own ambitions would become symbolic of the actions of African-American women during the movement. The couple moved into the church's parsonage on South Jackson Street shortly after this. Coretta became a member of the choir and taught Sunday school, as well as participating in the Baptist Training Union and Missionary Society. She made her first appearance at the First Baptist Church on March 6, 1955, where according to E. P. Wallace, she "captivated her concert audience."

The Kings welcomed their first child Yolanda on November 17, 1955, who was named at Coretta's insistence and became the church's attention. After her husband became involved in the Montgomery Bus Boycott, King often received threats directed towards him. In January 1956, King answered numerous phone calls threatening her husband's life, as rumors intended to make African-Americans dissatisfied with King's husband spread that Martin had purchased a Buick station wagon for her. Martin Luther King, Jr. would give her the nickname "Yoki," and thereby, allow himself to refer to her out of her name. By the end of the boycott, Mrs. King and her husband had come to believe in nonviolent protests as a way of expression consistent with biblical teachings. Two days after the integration of Montgomery's bus service, on December 23, a gunshot rang through the front door of the King home while King, her husband and Yolanda were asleep. The three were not harmed. On Christmas Eve of 1955, King took her daughter to her parents's house and met with her siblings as well. Yolanda was their first grandchild. King's husband joined them the next day, at dinner time.

On February 21, 1956, King's husband announced he would return to Montgomery after picking up Coretta and their daughter from Atlanta, who were staying with his parents. During Martin Luther King, Sr.'s opposition to his son's choice to return to Montgomery, Mrs. King picked up her daughter and went upstairs, which he would express dismay in later and tell her that she "had run out on him." Two days later, Coretta and her husband drove back to Montgomery. Coretta took an active role in advocating for civil rights legislation. On April 25, 1958, King made her first appearance at a concert that year at Peter High School Auditorium in Birmingham, Alabama. With a performance sponsored by the Omicron Lambda chapter of Alpha Phi Alpha fraternity, King changed a few songs in the first part of the show but still continued with the basic format used two years earlier at the New York gala as she told the story of the Montgomery Bus Boycott. The concert was important for Coretta as a way to continue her professional career and participate in the movement. The concert gave the audience "an emotional connection to the messages of social, economic, and spiritual transformation."

On September 3, 1958, King accompanied her husband and Ralph Abernathy to a courtroom. Her husband was arrested outside the courtroom for "loitering" and "failing to obey an officer." A few weeks later, King visited Martin's parents in Atlanta. At that time, she learned that he had been stabbed while signing copies of his book Stride Toward Freedom on September 20, 1958. King rushed to see her husband, and stayed with him for the remainder of his time in the hospital recovering. On February 3, 1959, King, her husband and Lawrence Reddick started a five-week tour of India. The three were invited to hundreds of engagements. During their trip, Coretta used her singing ability to enthuse crowds during their month long stay. The two returned to the United States on March 10, 1959.

House bombing

On January 30, 1956, Coretta and Dexter congregation member Roscoe Williams's wife Mary Lucy heard the "sound of a brick striking the concrete floor of the front porch." Coretta suggested that the two women get out of the front room and went into the guest room, as the house was disturbed by an explosion which caused the house to rock and fill the front room with smoke and shattered glass. The two went to the rear of the home, where Yolanda was sleeping and Coretta called the First Baptist Church and reported the bombing to the woman who answered the phone. Martin returned to their home, and upon finding Coretta and his daughter unharmed, went outside. He was confronted by an angry crowd of his supporters, who had brought guns. He was able to turn them away with an impromptu speech.

A white man was reported by a lone witness to have walked halfway up to King's door and throwing something against the door before running back to his car and speeding off. Ernest Walters, the lone witness, did not manage to get the license plate number because of how quickly the events transpired. Both of the couple's fathers contacted them over the bombing. The two arrived nearly at the same time, along with her husband's mother and brother. Coretta's father Obie said he would take her and her daughter back to Marion if his son-in-law did not take them to Atlanta. Coretta refused the proclamation, and insisted on staying with her husband. Despite Martin Luther King, Sr. also advocating that she leave with her father, King persisted in leaving with him. Author Octavia B. Vivian wrote "That night Coretta lost her fear of dying. She committed herself more deeply to the freedom struggle, as Martin had done four days previously, when jailed for the first time in his life." Coretta would later call it the first time she realized "how much I meant to Martin in terms of supporting him in what he was doing".

John F. Kennedy phone call

Martin Luther King was jailed on October 19, 1960, for picketing in a department store. After being released three days later, Coretta's husband was sent back to jail on October 22 for driving with an Alabama license while being a resident of Georgia and was sent to jail for four months of hard labor. After her husband's arrest, King believed he would not make it out alive and telephoned her friend Harris Wofford and cried while saying "They're going to kill him. I know they are going to kill him." Directly after speaking with her, Wofford contacted Sargent Shriver in Chicago, where presidential candidate John F. Kennedy was campaigning at the time, and told Shriver of King's fears for her husband. After Shriver waited to be with Kennedy alone, he suggested that he telephone King and express sympathy. Kennedy called King, after agreeing with the proposal.

Sometime afterward, Bobby Kennedy obtained King's release from prison. Martin Luther King, Sr. was so grateful for the release that he voted for Kennedy and said "I'll take a catholic or the devil himself if he'll wipe the tears from my daughter-in-law's eyes." According to Coretta, Kennedy said "I want to express my concern about your husband. I know this must be very hard on you. I understand you are expecting a baby, and I just want you to know that I was thinking about you and Dr. King. If there is anything I can do to help, please feel free to call on me." Kennedy's contact with King was learned about quickly by reporters, with Coretta admitting that it "made me feel good that he called me personally and let me know how he felt."

Kennedy presidency

During Kennedy's presidency, she and her husband had come to respect him and understood his reluctance at times to not get involved openly with civil rights. In April 1962, Coretta served as delegate for the Women's Strike for Peace Conference in Geneva, Switzerland. Martin drove her to the hospital on March 28, 1963, where King gave birth to their fourth child Bernice. After King and her daughter were due to come home, Martin rushed back to drive them himself. After her husband's arrest on April 12, 1963, King tried to make direct contact with President Kennedy at the advisement of Wyatt Tee Walker, and succeeded in speaking with Robert F. Kennedy. President Kennedy was with his father Joseph P. Kennedy, Sr, who was not feeling well. In what has been noted as making Kennedy seem less sympathetic towards the Kings, the president redirected Mrs. King's call to the White House switchboard.

The next day, President Kennedy reported to King that the FBI had been sent into Birmingham the previous night and confirmed that her husband was fine. He was allowed to speak with her on the phone and told her to inform Walker of Kennedy's involvement. She told her husband of her assistance from the Kennedys, which her husband took as the reason "why everybody is suddenly being so polite." In regards to the March on Washington, Coretta said, "It was as though heaven had come down." Coretta had been home all day with their children, since the birth of their daughter Bernice had not allowed her to attend Easter Sunday church services. Since Mrs. King had issued her own statement regarding the aid of the president instead of doing as her husband had told her and report to Wyatt Walker, this according to author Taylor Branch, made her portrayed by reports as "an anxious new mother who may have confused her White House fantasies with reality."

Coretta went to a Women Strike for Peace rally in New York, in the early days of November 1963. After speaking at the meeting held in the National Baptist Church, King joined the march from Central Park to the United Nations Headquarters. The march was timed to celebrate the group's second anniversary and celebrated the successful completion of the Limited Nuclear Test Ban Treaty. Coretta and Martin learned of John F. Kennedy's assassination when reports initially indicated he had only been seriously wounded. King joined her husband upstairs and watched Walter Cronkite announce the president's death. King sat with her visibly shaken husband following the confirmation.

FBI tapes

The FBI planned to mail tapes of her husband's alleged affairs to the Southern Christian Leadership Conference office since surveillance revealed that Coretta opened her husband's mail when he was traveling. The FBI learned that King would be out of office by the time the tapes were mailed and that his wife would be the one to open it. J. Edgar Hoover even advised to mail "it from a southern state." Coretta sorted the tapes with the rest of the mail, listened to them, and immediately called her husband, "giving the Bureau a great deal of pleasure with the tone and tenor of her reactions." King played the tape in her presence, along with Andrew Young, Ralph Abernathy and Joseph Lowery. Publicly, Mrs. King would say "I couldn't make much out of it, it was just a lot of mumbo jumbo." The tapes were part of a larger attempt by J. Edgar Hoover to denounce King by revelations in his personal life.

Johnson presidency

Most prominently, perhaps, she worked hard to pass the Civil Rights Act of 1964. King spoke with Malcolm X days before his assassination. Malcolm X told her that he was not in Alabama to make trouble for her husband, but instead to make white people have more appreciation for King's protests, seeing his alternative. On March 26, 1965, King's father joined her and her husband for a march that would later end in Montgomery. Her father "caught a glimpse of America's true potential" and for the called it "the greatest day in the whole history of America" after seeing chanting for his daughter's husband by both Caucasians and African-Americans.

Coretta Scott King criticized the sexism of the Civil Rights Movement in January 1966 in New Lady magazine, saying in part, "Not enough attention has been focused on the roles played by women in the struggle. By and large, men have formed the leadership in the civil rights struggle but...women have been the backbone of the whole civil rights movement." Martin Luther King, Jr. himself limited Coretta's role in the movement, and expected her to be a housewife. King participated in a Women Strike for Peace protest in January 1968, at the capital of Washington, D.C. with over five thousand women. In honor of the first woman elected to the House of Representatives, the group was called the Jeannette Rankin Brigade. Coretta co-chaired the Congress of Women conference with Pearl Willen and Mary Clarke.

Assassination of husband

Martin Luther King, Jr. was shot and killed in Memphis, Tennessee on April 4, 1968. She learned of the shooting after being called by Jesse Jackson when she returned from shopping with her eldest child Yolanda. King had difficulty settling her children with the news that their father was deceased. She received a large number of telegrams, including one from Lee Harvey Oswald's mother, which she regarded as the one that touched her the most.

In an effort to prepare her daughter Bernice, then only five years old, for the funeral, she tried to explain to her that the next time she saw her father he would be in a casket and would not be speaking. When asked by her son Dexter when his father would return, King lied and told him that his father had only been badly hurt. Senator Robert Kennedy ordered three more telephones to be installed in the King residence for King and her family to be able to answer the flood of calls they received and offered a plane to transport her to Memphis. Coretta spoke to Kennedy the day after the assassination and asked if he could persuade Jacqueline Kennedy to attend her husband's funeral with him.

Robert Kennedy promised her that he would help "any way" he could. King was told to not go ahead and agree to Kennedy's offer by Southern Christian Leadership Conference members, who told her about his presidential ambitions. She ignored the warnings and went along with his request. On April 5, 1968, King arrived in Memphis to retrieve her husband's body and decided that the casket should be kept open during the funeral with the hope that her children would realize upon seeing his body that he would not be coming home. Mrs. King called photographer Bob Fitch and asked for documentation to be done, having known him for years. On April 7, 1968, former Vice President Richard Nixon visited Mrs. King and recalled his first meeting with her husband in 1955. Nixon also went to Mrs. King's husband's funeral on April 9, 1968, but did not walk in the procession. Nixon believed participating in the procession would be "grandstanding."

On April 8, 1968, Mrs. King and her children headed a march with sanitation workers that her husband had planned to carry out before his death. After the marchers reached the staging area at the Civic Center Plaza in front of Memphis City Hall, onlookers proceeded to take pictures of King and her children but stopped when she addressed everyone at a microphone. She said that despite the Martin Luther King, Jr. being away from his children at times, "his children knew that Daddy loved them, and the time that he spent with them was well spent." Prior to Martin's funeral, Jacqueline Kennedy met with her. The two spent five minutes together and despite the short visit, Coretta called it comforting. King's parents arrived from Alabama. Robert Kennedy and his wife Ethel came, the latter being embraced by Mrs. King. Mrs. King and her sister-in-law Christine King Farris tried to prepare the children for seeing Martin's body. With the end of the funeral service, Mrs. King led her children and mourners in a march from the church to Morehouse College, her late husband's alma mater.

Early widowhood

Two days after her husband's death, King spoke at Ebenezer Baptist Church and made her first statement on his views since he had died. She said her husband told their children, "If a man had nothing that was worth dying for, then he was not fit to live." She brought up his ideals and the fact that he may be dead, but concluded that "his spirit will never die." Not very long after the assassination, Coretta took his place at a peace rally in New York City. Using notes he had written before his death, King constructed her own speech. Coretta approached the African-American entertainer and activist Josephine Baker to take her husband's place as leader of the Civil Rights Movement. Baker declined after thinking it over, stating that her twelve adopted children (known as the "rainbow tribe") were "...too young to lose their mother". Shortly after that Mrs. King decided to take the helm of the movement herself.

Coretta Scott King eventually broadened her focus to include women's rights, LGBT rights, economic issues, world peace, and various other causes. As early as December 1968, she called for women to "unite and form a solid block of women power to fight the three great evils of racism, poverty and war", during a Solidarity Day speech. On April 27, 1968, King spoke at an anti-war demonstration in Central Park in place of her husband. King made it clear that there was no reason "why a nation as rich as ours should be blighted by poverty, disease and illiteracy." King used notes taken from her husband's pockets upon his death, which included the "Ten Commandments on Vietnam." On June 5, 1968, Bobby Kennedy was shot after winning the California primary for the Democratic nomination for President of the United States. After he died the following day, Ethel Kennedy, who King had spoken to with her husband only two months earlier, was widowed. King flew to Los Angeles to comfort Ethel over Bobby's death. On June 8, 1968, while King was attending the late senator's funeral, the Justice Department made the announcement of James Earl Ray's arrest.

Not long after this, the King household was visited by Mike Wallace, who wanted to visit her and the rest of her family and see how they were fairing that coming Christmas. She introduced her family to Wallace and also expressed her belief that there would not be another Martin Luther King, Jr. because he comes around "once in a century" or "maybe once in a thousand years". She furthered that she believed her children needed her more than ever, and that there was hope for redemption in her husband's death. In January 1969, King and Bernita Bennette left for a trip to India. Before arriving in the country, the two stopped in Verona, Italy and King was awarded the Universal Love Award. King became the first non-Italian to receive the award. King traveled to London with her sister, sister-in-law, Bernita and several others to preach at St. Paul's Cathedral. Before, no woman had ever delivered a sermon at a regularly appointed service in the cathedral.

As a leader of the movement, Mrs. King founded the Martin Luther King, Jr. Center for Nonviolent Social Change in Atlanta. She served as the center's president and CEO from its inception until she passed the reins of leadership to son Dexter Scott King. Removing herself from leadership, allowed her to focus on writing, public speaking and spend time with her parents.

She published her memoirs, My Life with Martin Luther King, Jr., in 1969. President Richard Nixon was advised against visiting her on the first anniversary of his death, since it would "outrage" many people.

Coretta Scott King was also under surveillance by the Federal Bureau of Investigation from 1968 until 1972. Her husband's activities had been monitored during his lifetime. Documents obtained by a Houston, Texas television station show that the FBI worried that Coretta Scott King would "tie the anti-Vietnam movement to the civil rights movement." The FBI studied her memoir and concluded that her "selfless, magnanimous, decorous attitude is belied by...[her] actual shrewd, calculating, businesslike activities." A spokesman for the King family said that they were aware of the surveillance, but had not realized how extensive it was.

Later life

Every year after the assassination of her husband in 1968, Coretta attended a commemorative service at Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta to mark his birthday on January 15. She fought for years to make it a national holiday. In 1972, she said that there should be at least one national holiday a year in tribute to an African-American man, "and, at this point, Martin is the best candidate we have." Murray M. Silver, an Atlanta attorney, made the appeal at the services on January 14, 1979. Coretta Scott King later confirmed that it was the "...best, most productive appeal ever..." Coretta Scott King was finally successful in this campaign in 1986, when Martin Luther King, Jr. Day was made a federal holiday.

After the death of J. Edgar Hoover, King made no attempt to hide her bitterness towards him for his work against her husband in a long statement. Coretta Scott King attended the state funeral of Lyndon B. Johnson in 1973, as a very close friend of the former president. On July 25, 1978, King held a press conference in defense of then-Ambassador Andrew Young and his controversial statement on political prisoners in American jails. On September 19, 1979, Mrs. King visited the Lyndon B. Johnson ranch to meet with Lady Bird Johnson. In 1979 and 1980 Dr. Noel Erskine and Mrs. King co-taught a class on "The Theology of Martin Luther King, Jr." at the Candler School of Theology (Emory University). On September 29, 1980, King's signing as a commentator for CNN was announced by Ted Turner.

On August 26, 1983, King resented endorsing Jesse Jackson for president, since she wanted to back up someone she believed could beat Reagan and dismissed her husband becoming a presidential candidate had he lived. On June 26, 1985, King was arrested with her daughter Bernice and son Martin Luther King III while taking part in an anti-apartheid protest at the Embassy of South Africa in Washington, D.C.

When President Ronald Reagan signed legislation establishing the Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, she was at the event. Reagan called her to personally apologize for a remark he made during a nationally televised conference, where he said we would know in "35 years" whether or not King was a communist sympathizer. Reagan clarified his remarks came from the fact that the papers had been sealed off until the year 2027. King accepted the apology and pointed out the Senate Select Committee on Assassinations had not found any basis to suggest her husband had communist ties. On February 9, 1987, eight civil rights activists were jailed for protesting the exclusion of African-Americans during the filming of The Oprah Winfrey Show in Cumming, Georgia. Oprah Winfrey tried to find out why the "community has not allowed black people to live there since 1912." King was outraged over the arrests, and wanted members of the group, "Coalition to End Fear and Intimidation in Forsyth County," to meet with Georgia Governor Joe Frank Harris to "seek a just resolution of the situation." On March 8, 1989, King lectured hundreds of students about the civil rights movement at the University of San Diego. King tried to not get involved in the controversy around the naming of the San Diego Convention Center after her husband. She maintained it was up to the "people within the community" and that people had tried to get her involved in with "those kind of local situations."

On January 17, 1993, King showed disdain for the U.S. missile attack on Iraq. In retaliation, she suggested peace protests. On February 16, 1993, King went to the FBI Headquarters and gave an approving address on Director William S. Sessions for having the FBI "turn its back on the abuses of the Hoover era." King commended Sessions for his "leadership in bringing women and minorities into the FBI and for being a true friend of civil rights." King admitted that she would not have accepted the arrangement had it not been for Sessions, the then-current director. On January 17, 1994, the day marking the 65th birthday of her husband, King said "No injustice, no matter how great, can excuse even a single act of violence against another human being." In January 1995, Qubilah Shabazz was indicted on charges of using telephones and crossing state lines in a plot to kill Louis Farrakhan. King defended her, saying at Riverside Church in Harlem that federal prosecutors targeted her to tarnish her father Malcolm X's legacy. During the fall of 1995, King chaired an attempt to register one million African-American female voters for the presidential election next year with fellow widows Betty Shabazz and Myrlie Evers and was saluted by her daughter Yolanda in a Washington hotel ballroom. On October 12, 1995, King spoke about the O. J. Simpson murder case, which she negated having a longterm affect on relations between races when speaking to an audience at Soka University in Calabasas. On January 24, 1996, King delivered a 40-minute speech at the Loyola University's Lake Shore campus in Rogers Park. She called for everyone to "pick up the torch of freedom and lead America towards another great revolution." On June 1, 1997, Betty Shabazz suffered extensive and life-threatening burns after her grandson Malcolm Shabazz started a fire in their home. In response to the hospitalization of her longtime friend, Mrs. King donated $5,000 to a rehabilitation fund for her. Shabazz died on June 23, 1997, three weeks after being burned.

During the 1990s, King was subject to multiple break-ins and encountered Lyndon Fitzgerald Pace, a man who admitted killing women in the area. He broke in the house in the middle of the night and found Coretta while she was sitting in her bed. After nearly eight years of staying in the home following the encounter, King moved to a condominium unit which had also been the home, albeit part-time, for singers Elton John and Janet Jackson. In 1999, the King family finally succeeded in getting a jury verdict saying her husband was the victim of a murder conspiracy after suing Loyd Jowers, who claimed six years prior to having paid someone other than James Earl Ray to kill her husband. On April 4, 2000, King visited her husband's grave with her sons, daughter Bernice and sister-in-law. In regards to plans to construct a monument for her husband in Washington, D.C., King said it would "complete a group of memorials in the nation's capital honoring democracy's greatest leaders, including Abraham Lincoln, George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and now Martin Luther King, Jr." She became a vegan in the last 10 years of her life.

Opposition to apartheid

During the 1980s, Coretta Scott King reaffirmed her long-standing opposition to apartheid, participating in a series of sit-in protests in Washington, D.C. that prompted nationwide demonstrations against South African racial policies.

King had a 10-day trip to South Africa in September 1986. On September 9, 1986, she cancelled meeting President P. W. Botha and Mangosuthu Gatsha Buthelezi. The next day, she met with Allan Boesak. The UDF leadership, Boesak and Winnie Mandela had threatened avoiding meeting King if she met with Botha and Buthelezi. She also met with Mandela that day, and called it "one of the greatest and most meaningful moments of my life." Mandela's husband was still being imprisoned in Pollsmoor Prison after being transferred from Robben Island in 1982. Prior to leaving the United States for the meeting, King drew comparisons between the civil rights movement and Mandela's case. Upon her return to the United States, she urged Reagan to approve economic sanctions against South Africa.

Peacemaking

Coretta Scott King was a long-time advocate for world peace. Author Michael Eric Dyson has called her "an earlier and more devoted pacifist than her husband." Although Mrs. King would object to the term "pacifism"; she was an advocate of non-violent direct action to achieve social change. In 1957, Mrs. King was one of the founders of The Committee for a Sane Nuclear Policy (now called Peace Action), and she spoke in San Francisco while her husband spoke in New York at the major anti-Vietnam war march on April 15, 1967 organized by the Spring Mobilization Committee to End the War in Vietnam.

Mrs. King was vocal in her opposition to capital punishment and the 2003 invasion of Iraq.

LGBT equality

Corretta Scott King was an early supporter in the struggle for lesbian and gay civil rights. In August, 1983 in Washington, DC she urged the amendment of the Civil Rights Act to include gays and lesbians as Protected class.

In response to the Supreme Court's 1986 decision in Bowers v. Hardwick that there was no constitutional right to engage in consensual sodomy, King's longtime friend, Winston Johnson of Atlanta, came out to her and was instrumental in arranging King as the featured speaker at the September 27, 1986 New York Gala of the Human Rights Campaign Fund. As reported in the New York Native King stated that she was there to express her solidarity with the gay and lesbian movement. She applauded gays and lesbians as having "always been a part of the civil rights movement."

On April 1, 1998 at the Palmer House Hilton in Chicago, Mrs. King called on the civil rights community to join in the struggle against homophobia and anti-gay bias. "Homophobia is like racism and anti-Semitism and other forms of bigotry in that it seeks to dehumanize a large group of people, to deny their humanity, their dignity and personhood", she stated. "This sets the stage for further repression and violence that spread all too easily to victimize the next minority group."

In a speech in November 2003 at the opening session of the 13th annual Creating Change Conference, organized by the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force, Coretta Scott King made her now famous appeal linking the Civil Rights Movement to LGBT rights: "I still hear people say that I should not be talking about the rights of lesbian and gay people. ... But I hasten to remind them that Martin Luther King, Jr. said, 'Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.' I appeal to everyone who believes in Martin Luther King, Jr.'s dream, to make room at the table of brotherhood and sisterhood for lesbian and gay people."

Coretta Scott King's support of LGBT rights was strongly criticized by some black pastors. She called her critics "misinformed" and said that Martin Luther King's message to the world was one of equality and inclusion.

In 2003, she invited the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force to take part in observances of the 40th anniversary of the March on Washington and Martin Luther King's I Have a Dream speech. It was the first time that an LGBT rights group had been invited to a major event of the African-American community.{{}}

On March 23, 2004, she told an audience at The Richard Stockton College of New Jersey in Pomona, New Jersey, that same-sex marriage is a civil rights issue. She denounced a proposed amendment advanced by President George W. Bush to the United States Constitution that would ban equal marriage rights for same-sex couples. In her speech King also criticized a group of black pastors in her home state of Georgia for backing a bill to amend that state's constitution to block gay and lesbian couples from marrying. Scott King is quoted as saying "Gay and lesbian people have families, and their families should have legal protection, whether by marriage or civil union. A constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriages is a form of gay bashing and it would do nothing at all to protect traditional marriage."

The King Center

Established in 1968 by Coretta Scott King, The King Center is the official memorial dedicated to the advancement of the legacy and ideas of Martin Luther King, Jr., leader of a nonviolent movement for justice, equality and peace. Two days after her husband's funeral, King began planning $15 million for funding the memorial. She handed the reins as CEO and president of the King Center down to her son, Dexter Scott King, who still runs the center today. The Kings initially had difficulty gathering the papers since they were in different locations, including colleges he attended and archives. King had a group of supporters begin gathering her husband's papers in 1967, the year before his death. After raising funds from a private sector and the government, she financed the building of the complex in 1981.

In 1984, she came under criticism by Hosea Williams, one of Martin's earliest followers, for having used the King Center to promote "authentic material" on her husband's dreams and ideals, and disqualified the merchandise as an attempt to exploit her husband. She sanctioned the kit, which contained a wall poster, five photographs of King and his family, a cassette of the I Have a Dream speech, a booklet of tips on how to celebrate Martin Luther King, Jr. Day and five postcards with quotations from King himself. She believed it to be the authentic way to celebrate the holiday honoring her husband, and denied Hosea's claims.

King sued her husband's alma mater of Boston University over who would keep over 83,000 documents in December 1987, and said the documents belonged with the King archives. However, her husband was held to his word by the university; he had stated after receiving the Nobel Peace Prize in 1964 that his papers would be kept at the college. Coretta's lawyers argued that the statement was not binding and mentioned that King had not left a will at the time of his death. King testified that President of Boston University John R. Silber in a 1985 meeting demanded that she send the university all of her husband's documents instead of the other way around. King released the statement, "Dr. King wanted the south to be the repository of the bulk of his papers. Now that the King Center library and archives are complete and have one of the finest civil-rights collections in all the world, it is time for the papers to be returned home."

On January 17, 1992, President George H. W. Bush laid a wreath at the tomb of her husband and met with and was greeted by Mrs. King at the center. King praised Bush's support for the holiday, and joined hands with him at the end of a ceremony and sang "We Shall Overcome." On May 6, 1993, a court rejected her claims to the papers after finding that a July 16, 1964 letter King's husband wrote to the institute had constituted a binding charitable pledge to the university and outright stating that Martin Luther King retained ownership of his papers until giving them to the university as gifts or his death. King however, said her husband had changed his mind about allowing Boston University to keep the papers. After her son Dexter took over as the president of the King Center for the second time in 1994, King was given more time to write, address issues and spend time with her parents.

Illness and death

By the end of her 77th year, Coretta began experiencing health problems. Her husband's former secretary, Dora McDonald, assisted her part-time in this period. Hospitalized in April 2005, a month after speaking in Selma at the 40th anniversary of the Selma Voting Rights Movement, she was diagnosed with a heart condition and was discharged on her 78th and final birthday. Later, she suffered several small strokes. On August 16, 2005, she was hospitalized after suffering a stroke and a mild heart attack. Initially, she was unable to speak or move her right side. King's daughter Bernice reported that she had been able to move her leg on Sunday, August 21 while her other daughter and oldest child Yolanda asserted that the family expected her to fully recover. She was released from Piedmont Hospital in Atlanta on September 22, 2005, after regaining some of her speech and continued physiotherapy at home. Due to continuing health problems, Mrs. King cancelled a number of speaking and traveling engagements throughout the remainder of 2005. On January 14, 2006, Coretta made her last public appearance in Atlanta at a dinner honoring her husband's memory. On January 26, 2006, King checked into a rehabilitation center in Rosarito Beach, Mexico under a different name. Doctors did not learn her real identity until her medical records arrived the next day, and did not begin treatment due to her condition.

Coretta Scott King died on the late evening of January 30, 2006, at the rehabilitation center in Rosarito Beach, Mexico, In the Oasis Hospital where she was undergoing holistic therapy for her stroke and advanced stage ovarian cancer. The main cause of her death is believed to be respiratory failure due to complications from ovarian cancer. The clinic at which she died was called the Hospital Santa Monica, but was licensed as Clinica Santo Tomas. After reports indicated that it was not legally licensed to "perform surgery, take X-rays, perform laboratory work or run an internal pharmacy, all of which it was doing," as well as reports of it being operated by highly controversial medical figure Kurt Donsbach, it was shut down by medical commissioner Dr. Francisco Versa. King's body was flown from Mexico to Atlanta on February 1, 2006.

King's eight-hour funeral at the New Birth Missionary Baptist Church in Lithonia, Georgia was held on February 7, 2006. Bernice King did her eulogy. U.S. Presidents George W. Bush, Bill Clinton, George H.W. Bush and Jimmy Carter attended, as did their wives, with the exception of former First Lady Barbara Bush who had a previous engagement. The Ford family was absent due to the illness of President Ford (who himself died later that year). Senator and future President Barack Obama, among other elected officials, attended the televised service.

President Jimmy Carter and Rev. Joseph Lowery delivered funeral orations, and were critical of the Iraq War and the wiretapping of the Kings. Mrs. King was temporarily laid in a mausoleum on the grounds of the King Center until a permanent place next to her husband's remains could be built. She had expressed to family members and others that she wanted her remains to lie next to her husband's at the King Center. On November 20, 2006, the new mausoleum containing the bodies of both Dr. and Mrs. King was unveiled in front of friends and family. The mausoleum is the third resting place of Martin Luther King, and the second of Mrs. King.

Family life

Martin often called Coretta "Corrie," even when the two were still only dating. The FBI captured a dispute between the couple in the middle of 1964, where the two both blamed each other for making the Civil Rights Movement even more difficult. Martin confessed in a 1965 sermon of his secretary having to remind him of his wife's birthday and the couple's wedding anniversary. For a time, many accompanying her husband would usually hear Coretta argue with him in telephone conversations. King resented her husband whenever he failed to call her about the children while he was away, and learned of his plans to not include her in formal visits, such as the White House. However, when King failed to meet to his own standards by missing a plane and fell into a level of despair, Coretta told her husband over the phone that "I believe in you, if that means anything." Author Ron Ramdin wrote "King faced many new and trying moments, his refuge was home and closeness to Coretta, whose calm and soothing voice whenever she sang, gave him renewed strength. She was the rock upon which his marriage and civil rights leadership, especially at this time of crisis, was founded." After she succeeded in getting Martin Luther King, Jr. Day made a federal holiday, King said her husband's dream was "for people of all religions, all socio-economic levels and all cultures to create a world community free from violence, poverty, racism and war so that they could live together in what he called the beloved community or his world house concept."

King considered raising children in a society that discriminated against them serious, and spoke against her husband whenever the two disagreed on financial needs of their family. The Kings had four children; Yolanda, Martin III, Dexter and Bernice. All four children later followed in their parents' footsteps as civil rights activists. King thought she raised them to be proud of the color of their skin, until being asked by her daughter Yolanda why "white people are pretty and Negroes are ugly?" Her daughter Bernice referred to her as "My favorite person." Years after King's death, Bernice would say her mother "spearheaded the effort to establish the King Center in Atlanta as the official living memorial for Martin Luther King Jr., and then went on to champion a national holiday commemorating our father's birthday, and a host of other efforts; and so in many respects she paved the way and made it possible for the most hated man in America in 1968 to now being one of the most revered and loved men in the world." Dexter Scott King's resigning four months after becoming president of the King Center has often been attributed to differences with his mother. Dexter's work saw a reduction of workers from 70 to 14, and also removed a child care center his mother had founded.

Lawsuits

The King family has mostly been criticized for their handling of Martin Luther King, Jr.'s estate, both while Coretta was alive and after her death. The King family sued a California auction in 1992, the family's attorneys filed claims of stolen property against Superior Galleries in Los Angeles Superior Court for the document's return. The King family additionally sued the auction house for punitive damages. In 1994, USA Today paid the family $10,000 in attorney's fees and court costs and also a $1,700 licensing fee for using the "I Have a Dream" speech without permission from them. CBS was sued by the King estate for copyright infringement in November 1996. The network marketed a tape containing excerpts of the "I Have a Dream" speech. CBS had filmed the speech when Martin Luther King, Jr. delivered it in 1963 and did not pay the family a licensing fee.

On April 8, 1998, Mrs. King met with Attorney General Janet Reno as requested by President Bill Clinton. Their meeting took place at the Justice Department four days after the thirtieth anniversary of her husband's death. On July 29, 1998, Mrs. King and her son Dexter met with Justice Department officials. The following day, Associate Attorney General Raymond Fisher told reporters "We discussed with them orally what kind of process we would follow to see if that meets their concerns. And we think it should, but they're thinking about it." On October 2, 1998, the King family filed a suit against Loyd Jowers after he stated publicly he had been paid to hire an assassin to kill Martin Luther King. Mrs. King's son Dexter met with Jowers, and the family contended that the shot that killed Mrs. King's husband came from behind a dense bushy area behind Jim's Grill. The shooter was identified by James Earl Ray's lawyers as Earl Clark, a police officer at the time of King's death, who had been dead for several years before the trial and lawsuits emerged. Jowers himself refused to identify the man he claimed kill Martin Luther King, as a favor to who he confirmed as the deceased killer with alleged ties to organized crimes. The King lawsuit sought unspecified damages from Jowers and other "unknown coconspirators." On November 16, 1999, Mrs. King testified that she hoped the truth would be brought about, regarding the assassination of her husband. Mrs. King believed that while Ray might have had a role in her husband's death, she did not believe he was the one to "really, actually kill him." She was the first to testify of her family, and indicated that they all believed Ray did not act alone. It was at this time that King called for President Bill Clinton to establish a national commission to investigate the assassination, as she believed "such a commission could make a major contribution to interracial healing and reconciliation in America."

Legacy

Coretta was viewed during her lifetime and posthumously as having striven to preserve her husband's legacy. The King Center, which she created the year of his assassination, allowed her husband's tomb to be memorialized. King was buried with her husband after her death, on February 7, 2006. King "fought to preserve his legacy" and her construction of the King Center is said to have aided in her efforts.

King has been linked and associated with Jacqueline Kennedy and Ethel Kennedy, as the three all lost their husbands to assassinations. The three were together when Coretta flew to Los Angeles after the assassination of Robert F. Kennedy to be with Ethel and shared "colorblind compassion." She has also been compared to Michelle Obama, the first African-American First Lady of the United States.

She is seen as being primarily responsible for the creation of the Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday. The holiday is now observed in all fifty states, and has been since 2000. The first observance of the holiday after her death was commemorated with speeches, visits to the couple's tomb and the opening of a collection of Martin Luther King, Jr.'s papers. Her sister-in-law Christine King Farris said "It is in her memory and her honor that we must carry this program on. This is as she would have it."

Portrayals in film

Cicely Tyson, in the 1978 television miniseries King

Angela Bassett, in the 2013 television movie Betty and Coretta

Carmen Ejogo played Coretta King in both the 2001 HBO film Boycott and the 2014 film Selma.

Recognition and tributes

Coretta Scott King was the recipient of various honors and tributes both before and after her death. She received honorary degrees from many institutions, including Princeton University, Duke University, and Bates College. She was honored by both of her alma maters in 2004, receiving a Horace Mann Award from Antioch College and an Outstanding Alumni Award from the New England Conservatory of Music.

In 1970, the American Library Association began awarding a medal named for Coretta Scott King to outstanding African-American writers and illustrators of children's literature.

In 1978, Women's Way awarded King with their first Lucretia Mott Award for showing a dedication to the advancement of women and justice similar to Lucretia Mott's.

Many individuals and organizations paid tribute to Scott King following her death, including U.S. President George W. Bush, the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force, the Human Rights Campaign, the National Black Justice Coalition, her alma mater Antioch College.

In 1983 she received the Four Freedom Award for the Freedom of Worship. In 1987 she received a Candace Award for Distinguished Service from the National Coalition of 100 Black Women.

In 1997, Coretta Scott King was the recipient of the Academy of Achievement's Golden Plate Award.

In 2004, Coretta Scott King was awarded the prestigious Gandhi Peace Prize by the Government of India.

In 2006, the Jewish National Fund, the organization that works to plant trees in Israel, announced the creation of the Coretta Scott King forest in the Galilee region of Northern Israel, with the purpose of "perpetuating her memory of equality and peace", as well as the work of her husband. When she learned about this plan, King wrote to Israel's parliament:

"On April 3, 1968, just before he was killed, Martin delivered his last public address. In it he spoke of the visit he and I made to Israel. Moreover, he spoke to us about his vision of the Promised Land, a land of justice and equality, brotherhood and peace. Martin dedicated his life to the goals of peace and unity among all peoples, and perhaps nowhere in the world is there a greater appreciation of the desirability and necessity of peace than in Israel."

In 2007, The Coretta Scott King Young Women's Leadership Academy (CSKYWLA) was opened in Atlanta, Georgia. At its inception, the school served girls in grade 6 with plans for expansion to grade 12 by 2014. CSKYWLA is a public school in the Atlanta Public Schools system. Among the staff and students, the acronym for the school's name, CSKYWLA (pronounced "see-skee-WAH-lah"), has been coined as a protologism to which this definition has given – "to be empowered by scholarship, non-violence, and social change." The school is currently under the leadership of Dione Simon (Principal). There Is Also A High School With A Graduating Class Next Year. The High School Is Currently Under The Leadership Of Termerion McCrary Lakes. That year was also the first observance of Martin Luther King, Jr. Day following her death, and she was honored.

Super Bowl XL was dedicated to King and Rosa Parks. Both were memorialized with a moment of silence during the pregame ceremonies. The children of both Parks and King then helped Tom Brady with the ceremonial coin toss. In addition two choirs representing the states of Georgia (King's home state) and Alabama (Park's home state) accompanied Dr. John, Aretha Franklin and Aaron Neville in the singing of the National Anthem.

She was inducted into the Alabama Women's Hall of Fame in 2009.

Congressional resolutions

Upon the news of her death, moments of reflection, remembrance, and mourning began around the world. In the United States Senate, Majority Leader Bill Frist presented Senate Resolution 362 on behalf of all U.S. Senators, with the afternoon hours filled with respectful tributes throughout the U.S. Capitol.

On August 31, 2006, following a moment of silence in memoriam to the death of Coretta Scott King, the United States House of Representatives presented House Resolution 655 in honor of her legacy. In an unusual action, the resolution included a grace period of five days in which further comments could be added to it.

Wikipedia

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