#pictures that got me on my knees in the middle of a walmart

[sectoralchromatics]

Isabella Bignardi, 1981 Italian Ladies' Rally Champion, showing the spectators her pink Lancia Stratos HF at the start of 1981 Rally delle Valli Piacentine.

[thegoodthebadthealternative]

The Good, The Bad, and The Alternative: a homestuck fanfiction. Chapter 34, an excerpt:

"Well, that sounds better than no plan, I suppose," Kanaya agreed. "We'll take a table far enough away that you don't feel like we're hovering."

"And we'll keep an eye out for you going mister cool guy mode if you flub too many open and honest type behaviors," Vriska added.

"Goddamnit, you were eavesdropping." Dave sighed, swinging his legs up so he could sit on the counter sideways, able to see both of them. "Was there any part of this convo that actually stayed private?"

"I could lie if it makes you feel better," Vriska said, shoving her hand in her jeans pocket. She pulled out a crumbled fifty-dollar bill. "Is this enough to cover these clothes? Walmart shirts are fine for casual wear, but if I look super schlubby, I'll stand out more."

"Hmm, I think that works out to just enough," Kanaya lied, taking the proffered fifty. She grabbed the security magnet remover from behind the counter. "Dave, can you help her get the tags off?"

"Nah, she's being hella shady." He refused the proffered tool. "Vriska, you're not gonna go gossiping to John about my tragicomic ass behavior, are you?"

"Depends," she replied, idly fiddling with the magnet on her tank top. Casually, she added, "how sure are we that Jade isn't a succubus?"

Kanaya sputtered. "What?"

"Seconded. What?" Dave chimed in.

"Wellllllll, the logic seems pretty obvious to me." Vriska cleared her throat, flicking the security tag onto the counter, which she'd apparently worked free without the magnet remover. She looked up at Kanaya, addressing her directly. "So, picture this. John and I are making cupcakes, right? John's in this cute ruffled apron with flowers on it. Some banter ensues- Dave calls him a housewife, John threatens to withhold the goods if he doesn't quit the jokes, and next thing I know, Dave is literally begging on his knees, hands clasped like a groveling peasant as he praises John's skills."

Dave groaned in embarrassment. "I swear it sounded better in my head as I was doing it."

"Psh, I bet." Vriska waggled her eyebrows. "So. He crawls in close, like just barely out of dick-sucking range, and then they just stare at each other, leaving me smelling way too much information about the direction their thoughts were wandering. John's dad was in the room and the dude totally forgot, his pupils were blown like he was on ecstasy. Absolutely atrocious, he's lucky humans can't smell or see that kind of detail from the other side of the room." 

"Dude, no, he was just staring at my antics. He's straight." Dave shook his head. 

"Do you need me to spell out exactly what I was smelling?" Vriska asked incredulously, whipping her head around to stare at Dave. "Maybe he's just so fucking drawn in by your cool guy shtick that he thinks you're the straight one, so he isn't talking flirty or whatever. But the body keeps the score on that kind of stuff, and he can't hide the reactions happening underneath the skin." 

"But what does that have to do with Jade?" Kanaya asked, trying to draw Vriska's intensity back in her direction. 

"Oh, just that John's first favorite subject was Dave, pre-party. They did that whole rap thing against Tavros and Gamzee, I thought they were two, maybe three drinks away from a successful maneuver on the dance floor. But then Jade shows up, and suddenly John is-" Vriska crossed her pointer and middle finger. "Like this with her for the rest of the party, even though Dave nearly got his brain melted. It was fucking weird . Then he doesn't even stop by to say hi to us, not one, but two days in a row, because he's too busy in the morning getting ready to hang out with Jade? Makes me think, maybe she's pulling some heavy seduction magic."

For a moment, the trio were silent, absorbing Vriska's words.

"Are you a conspiracy theorist? Genuinely asking," Dave said, crossing his arms.

Do you think Vriska is blowing things out of proportion? Read on to find out!

The Good, The Bad, and The Alternative (449733 words) by Madam_Melon_Meow, sarcasticcelery Chapters: 34/? Fandom: Homestuck Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Nepeta Leijon/Equius Zahhak, Sollux Captor/Aradia Megido, Eridan Ampora & Feferi Peixes, Kanaya Maryam & Dave Strider, Rose Lalonde & Rose's Mom | Beta Roxy Lalonde, Dave's Bro | Beta Dirk Strider & Dave Strider, Beta Kids & Beta Trolls, Jade Harley & Rose's Mom | Beta Roxy Lalonde, Dad Egbert & John Egbert, Kanaya Maryam/Vriska Serket, Eridan Ampora/Dave Strider Characters: John Egbert, Rose Lalonde, Dave Strider, Jade Harley, Becquerel (Homestuck), Kanaya Maryam, Vriska Serket, Karkat Vantas, Terezi Pyrope, Aradia Megido, Tavros Nitram, Sollux Captor, Gamzee Makara, Eridan Ampora, Feferi Peixes, Nepeta Leijon, Equius Zahhak, Virgin Mother Grub (Homestuck), Vriska's Lusus, Gl'bgolyb (Homestuck), Dad Egbert, Rose's Mom | Beta Roxy Lalonde, Dave's Bro | Beta Dirk Strider, Aurthour (Homestuck), The Condesce (Homestuck), Serenity (Homestuck) Additional Tags: inspired by Kim Harrison’s The Hollows, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Humanstuck, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Human Lusii (Homestuck), Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Demigods, Vampires, multi POV: all beta trolls & humans, The Horrorterrors (Homestuck), Non-Abusive Dave's Bro | Beta Dirk Strider, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Violence, Magic, Aged-Up Character(s), the kids and trolls range between 16 and 20, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Vriska Serket has PTSD, Memory Loss, Scars, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Plot Twists, Unreliable Narrator, Rose Lalonde and Dave Strider Are Not Related, Skaianet Laboratories, beta guardians are not alpha kids and troll parents are not ancestors, monsterstuck, Break Up, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Ship Tags Will Update As They Become Relevant, Good Person Gamzee Makara, Suicide Attempt by Proxy, Dissociation, Victim Blaming, Abusive Parents, sexually active teenagers, Underage Drinking Series: Part 1 of Monsterstuck: Suburban Catastrophe Summary: Three years ago, on John Egbert's birthday, the world ended. Three years ago, Jade Harley and Vriska Serket vanished alongside billions of others. Three years ago, the apocalypse arrived, transforming everything and revealing much that was hidden to those who remained. Three years ago, the meteors (mostly!) missed Houston, and that's where John's headed today. In Houston, Rose Lalonde searches for washed-up traces of magic, warily overseen by Kanaya and her old friend Dave. In Texas, the newly dubbed "alternatives" maintain a newfound alliance with the humans they saved--and a wary truce with the Hunter forces that once kept all these creatures of fable and fairytale a secret from the world of man. And here, in Houston, the world is about to change once again. An urban fantasy monsterstuck AU featuring the beta kids, beta trolls, and their guardians. Updates every other Saturday!

[lunaryrs]

🎵 cora and sienna

team / lorde

call all the ladies out, they're in their finery. a hundred jewels on throats, a hundred jewels between teeth. now bring my boys in, their skin in craters like the moon. the moon we love like a brother while he glows through the room. dancing around the lies we tell, dancing around big eyes as well. even the comatose, they don't dance and tell.

this one representing the entire friend group... i think they're so early lorde coded because they're so small town punk bitch royalty, skateboard wheels on cracked asphalt, slurpees in the parking lot, the gaggle of them with bruised knees and scuffed converse feeling on top of the world cuz their little hole-in-the-wall bar doesn't look too hard at their fake IDs when its otherwise dead on tuesday nights.

youth / troye sivan what if we run away? what if we left today? ... what if we start to drive? what if we close our eyes? what if we're speeding through red lights into paradise? 'cause we've no time for getting old, mortal bodies, timeless souls. cross your fingers, here we go. ... my youth is yours.

ummm why do i need ot explain this one just read the words. no i'm kidding i had a whole thought out thing for this one but i prioritized writing out other ones and then jake called me in the middle of doing that and i forgot about everything and this whole meme went to shit and here we are. but i know that you have a big brain and honestly? even if you didn't this one is pretty self explanatory.

16 / sadie jean

your old room, these walls look different. nothing's new, just days and distance. and i'm freaked out the more i realize it's gone now, but sometimes i want to be 16 at the park, parked in your dad's car. ... best friends, wanna get drunk in a backyard. so cool hanging out in the backyard. girl talk, talk about boys like it's business. mom's mad, gotta get home this instant. 16, bittersweet.

bram is only a baby and all but fuck that guy for coming between them like this............ i don't know i just picture cora in that little apartment with the baby reminiscing on the youth that she had/should still have rly and seeing her friendship w sienna at the center of it all. reflecting on the passing of time and all that's been lost and gained. they're still in each other's lives they'll just never have that version of themselves back and i think cora wishes she recognized how good those moments were when she was in them

"slut!" / taylor swift

flamingo pink, sunrise boulevard. clink clink, being this young is art. aquamarine moonlit swimming pool. what if all i need is you? ... adorned with smoke on my clothes, lovelorn and nobody knows. love thorns all over this rose. ... but if i'm all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us. and if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once.

my little lesbianism au... i love it because it conjures up images of like the neighborhood pools they'd hop the fence into, them attached by their pinkies floating side by side on tacky pool floats they got prior raiding walmart with full intent to trespass bc they knew someone was on vacation or whatever. i know i told you i never really had a reason for cora's general sense of discontent until i thought of this and everything kind of clicked. very clear on sienna being all she could ever need but hadn't considered it in the romantic sense and i couldn't unthink of it that way ever since. in terms again of the greater friend group given how a few of the guys treat mollie it's like ok... perhaps not the biggest leap to think there's some misogyny there, surely some criticism from the skeevier guys that would feel like yknow the hot girls in the friend group are obliged to them somehow (and of course being romantically involved w some of them already as well). so i like this idea that they have this sensual secret thing going on and just kind of weighing the pros and cons of being like fuck it lets abandon this charade

[ravenclawfury]

First spiritual experience with Hades and my best friends thought I was dying

Yes. This happened. Yesterday. And the experience was so deep and real that I wanted to write about it here. Prepare for a longgggggggggg post.

So! Necessary background about me. I live on a mountain. I live on a mountain in the middle of nowhere. It’s a tiny little town in rural Virginia, population about 250. We have one grocery store and three restaurants, the fanciest of which is a Subway. Apparently, the fire department finds it necessary to sometimes to controlled burns in the forests on some of the mountains. I only found this out as I was driving home yesterday and saw the mountains smothered in smoke. It was very alarming to see until I found out what was happening. 

I work an hour away from Tiny Rural Town because there’s hardly anywhere to work and I’m sure the pay sucks, so I drive an hour into a larger city to work at a Walmart. Anyway, I had just finished an eight-hour shift and had driven home. 

Background on my relationship with Hades-- I have been getting signs from Him all over the place but He hasn’t really reached out to me the way my other deity (Loki) has so I’ve been feeling discouraged and wondering if it’s even Him reaching out, much less if I’m just seeing signs that aren’t there. I’d asked verbally and telepathically if He could appear in meditations and dreams since that has been pretty much the norm for most people I’ve read about (I know that every person’s individual-deity experience is different but I figured “most likely” is the thing to try first) and He hadn’t. I had tried meditating a bunch and I always ended up falling asleep-- although one time I did start to get into it and I had a couple visions of a shelf filled with scrolls and a wooden box with a sticker that said something about green tea. I think that probably had something to do with Him, like I was peeking into His office but he decided then wasn’t a good time.

I’m rambling. I had gotten up that morning and found my paycheck had come in but it was a bit larger than normal, and with my tax return sitting in the bank my account was looking lit. So I decided to attribute it to him (god of wealth and all) I wanted to do something nice and get Hades a proper offering. I picked out a nice bottle of wine (I think it was called Apothic Dark? It was only 10 bucks and it sounded very Him) and some pretty flowers (roses and purple lilies? purple somethings). And then I drove home. 

But my best friend wanted to have dinner and offered to pick me up so I didn’t have to drive back into town. I agreed and popped open His wine while I got dressed so it could breathe. I estimated my friend to be about 20 minutes out and it was sunset so I poured a hefty glass of it and took it outside. I looked around for a good spot to sit down and offer the wine and while I was looking I looked up through the trees and saw the fires. 

The controlled burn was happening on the mountain across from ours, but until then all I had seen was the smoke. Now that it was dusk, I could see the flames raging across the mountain and I just kind of froze. I stood there for a few minutes in the cold before I sank down to my knees, still watching it. It was a fairly uncomfortable position (I was in a dress that I believe Hades likes) and I heard a voice in my head tell me it was okay to sit down and get comfortable. 

Now, I have a godphone and I’m used to Loki regularly chattering away in my head so I knew what this was. I sat down and just watched the fire and I even teared up a little because it was beautiful but sad. I even got sort of a Pompeii vibe because the fire looked like lava flowing down the mountain and that’s just what came to mind. I subconsciously thought a couple times about going to get my phone to get pictures because it was so pretty and every time I felt a nudge to stay put, and then when I asked in my head if I could go get my phone, I got a verbal “No, just stay here in the moment. This is not something to trap in a photograph, just be here.” 

Anyway, once I felt like I was ready, I started giving this little sort of speech for the offering, using Hades’ name and asking him to accept it and stuff. It was more a prayer than anything.

Anyway as I was talking I heard this rustling in the woods. It sounded like someone was walking up the mountain onto my property so I froze. It was getting closer but it wasn’t moving all that fast and it would quiet down every so often so I would try to start talking again, but I would get distracted as the leaves rustled. Eventually, I figured out it was a few deer moving up the mountain, picking their way through the forest, so I remained silent. 

I listened to the deer and tried to pick out their movements in the darkness and after a while I got a gut feeling it was time to tip over the glass of wine without any further ado, so I did. The whole thing was just very spiritual and it was the first time He had really talked to me so I was very happy.

I went inside and checked my phone (since my friend was on the way) and there were about 6 missed calls from each of my best friends (one of which is my crush) and our group chat was blowing up. Long story short? She saw the controlled burn driving into town and panicked, thinking it was my mountain. My friends thought I was dying while I was giving Hades an offering xD xD xD

Anywho, I’m very very grateful to finally have a little confirmation (after all, I need all the reassurance in the world) and I really appreciate the experience. So, thanks, Hades.

[palettes-and-prompts]

100 First Meetings (Dialogue Prompts)

1) "Were you the one in the bathroom a second ago trying different lines in the mirror to work up the courage to ask that barista out?" 2) "Wow, you're cute." 3) "You come here often?" "This is a morgue." 4) "You! What the hell are you doing in here? We're closed!" 5) "Ahhhh! I hate my fucking life!!!" "Mood." 6) "You have magic?!" 7) "You don't look like you'll last a day here." 8) "You should leave before your date gets back from the bathroom, I saw them in here the other day popping the question to two different people." 9) "They never told me they had a younger brother/sister." 10) "Who's the twink?" 11) "I gotta ask, are you mad about something or is your face just /like that?/" 12) "You're my new roommate?" 13) "You're not married are you?" 14) "Hey, you're not dead are you? Cause I'm on probation and I can't afford to be involved in a fucking murder or something." 15) "So you're the one causing all this trouble." 16) "I need you to pretend we're dating so this dude will leave me alone." 17) "Honey, there you are I've been looking all over for you! Pretend you're with me so this person will go away." 18) "So you're the loud moaner from upstairs, huh, never knew you'd be so cute." 19) "You're not the pizza guy." 20) "You know, when I said I wish the love of my life would just fall out of the sky this isn't exactly what I had in mind." 21) "Any particular reason you're putting peanut butter in my kid's hair?" 22) "You made me dinner?" 23) "You've got the wrong room, but feel free to stay naked." 24) "You must be the motherfucker who broke my windshield!" 25) "Hi, you are very naked." 26) "You their new toy?" 27) "How'd you like to make fifty bucks?" 28) "I know I'm going to regret asking but who are you?" 29) "You got any friends?" "No." "Well you do now, come sit with us!" 30) "Cute face, I'd love to sit on it sometime." 31) "Where'd you find this dork?" 32) "Uh, there any particular reason you're screaming at two thirty-six in the morning? 33) "Out of curiosity, do you think you could lift a dead body?" 34) "If you don't let go of this bag of chips I swear to god I'll bring you to your knees in the middle of this fucking WinnDixie." 35) "WHO THE FUCK ATE THE LAST OF THE FUCKIN DORITOS, I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL-oh! I'm sorry, I didn't know we had a guest. If I'd known we had a guest I would've cleaned." 36) "Are you the vegan cannibal? Because I have so many questions." 37) "Ooh, hello Mommy/Daddy. Fuck, did I just say that out loud?" 38) "Am I dead? Are you an angel? Am I in heaven?" "Actually you're in a taco bell, you tried to do a kick flip on your skateboard in the parking lot and hit your head on the side of the dumpster." 39) "You brought a fucking guest to our SECRET BASE?! I'll deal with you later. Hi, hello, it's very nice to meet you please make yourself at home!" 40) "So, you gay or what?" 41) "No, sorry, we don't want any girl scout cookies." 42) "Holy shit, you just saved my fucking life!" 43) "Hey, honey, it's just me. You were in a really bad accident so don't try moving around too much, okay? How are you feeling?" "You called me honey. Do I know you?" 44) "Jesus, your face is about as red as your hair." 45) "Run along little ballerina, you wouldn't want to be caught hanging around the bad kids, would you?" 46) "No, I'm not the stripper, but I can be if you'd like." 47) "You ready to cut open some bodies?" 48) "Get in if you want to live." 49) "What are you looking at, short stack? Mind your own business." 50) "Your headphones aren't plugged in properly so I can hear everything you're listening to. I was going to tell you earlier but then you started watching the weirdest porn I've ever seen and I didn't want to embarrass you, but I'm about to leave so I figured I'd tell you before someone else sits around you." 51) "I don't know what they've told you but we don't need another member, go home." 52) "Hey, stop right there, you can't steal that! That's illegal!" 53) "Who's the nerd?" 54) "You look like the kind of person who wears days of the week underwear." 55) "So, how many pitchers of margaritas are you allowed to sell me?" 56) "My head fucking kills, I shouldn't have drank last night. Hey, wait, why do you and I have matching rings on our fingers?!" 57) "Congratulations, idiot! You just ruined a six month plan and now we have to start all over!" 58) "That is the ugliest shirt I've ever seen, where can I get one just like it?" 59) "I know you make straight A's, but I'm still not sure if you're really smart or dumb but really lucky. Because I've seen someone ask you what the square root of pi is and you answer with 'I don't know, I guess it depends on the flavor.'" 60) "Who the fuck let you in?" 61) "Hey, I'll give you twenty bucks if you take a photo with me to make my ex jealous." 62) "So, you eat ass or what?" 63) "You a cop?" "No." "Too bad, you would have looked good in a uniform." 64) "With a face like that I'll be whoever you want me to be." 65) "Hey, you have eyes, do you think this outfit makes me look fat? You can be honest, I can handle it." 66) "I'm just looking for a nice person to settle down with who'll fuck me hard and tell me they love me when they cum on my face, like, I feel like that's not too fucking much to ask for, you know? Anyway, I'll have a diet coke and the chicken salad, please." 67) "I swear to god, this is not what it looks like." 68) "First of all, don't you fucking come in here and try and start a fight with my best friend while you're looking straight goofy as hell in those fucking Walmart shorts and those thrift store crocs." 69) "HEY! YOU ACROSS THE STREET! YOUR DOG IS SO FUCKING CUTE AND I WOULD FUCKING DIE FOR THEM!" 70) "Anyone who says they don't like musicals is either lying to themselves, has never watched one, or is a heartless android sent by the government to blend into society and collect information about us." 71) "Asking someone out is easy, watch this. Hi, I think you're cute and if you're not seeing anyone do you want to go out sometime?" 72) "Hey, I saw you crying earlier when you stepped on a bug. Do you need me to, like, call someone for you?" 73) "I can't tell if you're really high and just hungry or if you're buying 28 family bags of shredded cheese at three am because you just love cheese. Either way you should probably also buy some laxatives or lactaid while you're already here." 74) "When I told you to make a power point about something you're passionate about for our first class meeting I didn't mean make a power point on 'How to Give Great Head' and I absolutely didn't tell you to include pictures." 75) "Are you wearing that tacky ass outfit because you genuinely like it or because you're a Leo and crave the attention?" 76) "Did you really just buy the last chocolate chocolate chip muffin? You are now dead to me." 77) "The fuck are you looking at loser?" 78) "Dude, books are just like subtitles without the movie." 79) "Hey, in your tinder bio is says your friends call you Badger Slammin' Sam and I literally only swiped right just to find out why." 80) "Are you hitting on me? Am I being punked? Are you a hooker? Did my dumbass friend put you up to this?" 81) "Hey, I need you to settle something for me and my friend. Which is the right way to pronounce carrot?" 82) "Do you believe in love at first sight, what about disgust at first glance?" 83) "Look, I'm not saying that MCR's last album changed my life, but I'm absolutely saying that." 84) "Can you move out of my way, I have to clean puke off the floor before I'm allowed to use my lunch break to cry in my car." 85) "Hi, I believe this very drunk person is your roommate, they told me this is the address. I caught them in my backyard playing with my dog again." 86) "I know you're probably not allowed to do this, but I kind of need to borrow an iguana." 87) "Hey, I saw you drop your sandwich in the parking lot earlier and start crying and I felt bad for not saying anything earlier, but I went to the sandwich shop and luckily the dude remembered your oddly specific order so I got you another one. I hope you get to feeling better." 88) "No, we don't sell 'that crazy kush' here, you can try Target." 89) "I was just calling because you sent me a picture text three weeks ago by accident with the caption 'When they let you deliver the digiorno after you clap them cheeks.' and I was just wondering if you could explain what that means because it's been keeping me up at night ever since you sent it." 90) "Hey, I just overheard you talking with your friends about how you put mustard, ketchup, and ranch on your macaroni and cheese and I just wanted to come over here and personally ask you which circle of hell you crawled up from." 91) "What the fuck is a diet water?" 92) "You guys here for the orgy?" 93) "Was that your scream? Why did it sound like a banshee?" 94) "I saw you pour two five hour energy shots into a cup of coffee earlier and then proceed to mix it with monster and red bull and like, dude I know this isn't really my place or whatever but I think you should probably go to the hospital. Like, I think you're gonna die." 95) "Your profile said you're a vegan but my profile says 'Only contact if you eat ass' and you contacted me, so what's the truth here?" 96) "Call me adorable one more time and I'll knock your teeth down your fucking throat." 97) "Move, I have to go fail my Stats test before I can go home and cry into a bag of hot cheetos while I rewatch The Office." 98) "I'm sorry, did you just order a fifty piece mcnugget for here, for yourself?" 99) "So, how do you feel about lizards?" 100) "Question, are you a top or a bottom, because you're giving off major power bottom energy but I'm not one hundred percent sure."

[rvwchck]

tweet at first sight

It was one tweet. Not even all 280 characters. Just the simple phrase “I feel like @jamiethebee would be down to egg a house for his fans. just saying”.

I didn’t have more than 500 followers on Twitter, and those included only people from my school. It wasn’t even a fan account, nor was it even remotely related with Jamie Lee Oliver. 

So naturally, when I saw his username in my DMs, my stomach almost fell out of my ass. Keyword being almost.

I screamed, and I did it loud. Thankfully, I was alone in my apartment, because having my roommate witness my prepubescent stunt would have been enough for me to move out. Which sounds serious when it comes from a college graduate living in Southern California.

8:06 AM

@jamiethebee: pick your poison.

tap to download attachment.

He had sent me a picture from the egg section in what appeared to be Walmart. I decided it was better not to answer, considering I was late for what seemed to be the millionth job interview of the week. Nobody said life after graduation would be so hard. Especially after enduring the hell that is living in a dorm the size of a shoebox. 

Looking at my appearance in the mirror confirmed that I would not, in fact, get hired today. It may have to do with the fact that between my now coffee-stained shirt and red pants along with my rusty red hair made me look like a war zone. Or a used tampon. Or both. 

Clearly L’Oreal Colorista was not the best hair dye in the market. 

I glanced down at my phone, partly wondering if I had any new texts from Leo—or as I liked to call him after that cheating incident, Satan—and partly to see if any other celebrities had graced my inbox. None of those scenarios had happened, and I was now 10 minutes late. 

Just when I was rushing out of the door, my roommate opened the door with a slam and proceeded to face plant onto the couch. 

Well, I thought, at least I’m not in med school. 

***

I somehow managed to miss the train and the bus. All in a 15 minute span. Which meant I was 25 minutes late for the interview. It would be a miracle if I even got to announce my name, or hand in my resume.

My hair was completely disheveled and one of my shoes had come off in the middle of the street, meaning my pizza socks were on full display once I arrived to the building of Pyramid Publishing. The receptionist directed me to the 16th floor, where everything was white, or really pale beige. 

I sat on one of the couches ,well, rested my back for half a second before I was interrupted. 

“Lisa Martin? Sorry for the long wait, we had some issues with the air conditioning” A tall secretary poked her head from one of the offices in the waiting area.

I was not a true believer, but God had just done me a solid.

11:30 AM

@jamiethebee: so you discover a 

dark truth about me and then you 

leave me on read?

@jamiethebee: wow, RUDE. 

I hid my phone in my purse, my heart beating at an alarming rate against my chest. I was still having a hard time believing the Jamie Lee Oliver had slid into my DMs and went to the produce section of the grocery store for me. The fact that he had the audacity to call me out was also making my brain go haywire trying to come up with a decent answer.

All while struggling to pay attention to the code of ethics of the company. Because yes, I had just gotten hired to be an editor for Pyramid Publishing. 

“The idea Miss Martin, is for you to have a week to get to know the office and the way things work around here before you fully immerse in what is a typical schedule of an editor in Pyramid Publishing” The man, Gregory Truman, had a smooth voice and gave off an aura of authority, partly because of the way he was seated, and partly because his secretary seemed to be in awe every time he opened his mouth to speak.  

I nodded along completely distracted, smiling every once in a while to show that I was happy for the opportunity I had just been given. After four years of majoring in English and getting tired of hearing that it would be impossible to find any job, I had just landed the job of my dreams.  Which sounds amazing, but it really consists of earning enough to cover my part of the rent and to afford one or two nights out every once in a while. 

After agreeing to come back tomorrow morning to start my briefings, I left the building and headed for the bus station. I was about to acknowledge my Twitter notifications, which seemed to be glaring at me, when my roommate called.

To any person this would come across as normal behaviour, however when you live with a med school student who lives and breathes for their career, you get used to not hearing from them for days at a time. No news, good news right?.

“What’s up buttercup?” I answered cheerfully nonetheless. Amanda tends to be overly dramatic and extremely analytic of phone and text conversations. She has flipped out on me for answering the phone with a simple ‘hey’, claiming that she thought I was mad at her and didn’t want to live with her anymore because she forgets to hang her towels. Her words, not mine.

“Yeah, yeah, no time for greetings. Listen the curry exploded all over the kitchen” I was once again, rendered speechless. 

Amanda comes from an Indian family that loves to travel and above all, loves to eat. Her recipe book is overflowing and constantly getting thicker. However, her skills are not getting any better. Last week she managed to turn the butter on fire while attempting to melt it in the microwave. Who knows how she managed to do that.

“Okay so there’s no need for me to buy more oils for the diffuser, is that what you’re saying?” I would have worried if it was another person, but Amanda tends to worry a little too much over everything and I don’t want her to beat herself up anymore over this.

“No Lisa I’m serious like I don’t even know where to start cleaning and I’ve probably ruined the kitchen and we won’t be able to repare it and I just know that you’ll want to move out because of this and—“

“Okay this is what you’ll do. You’re going to go to the wine cabinet and open a bottle of rose, you know the one you like, and you’re going to calm down and then start cleaning. First the floor so you don’t keep making a bigger mess, then the counters and so on. Mandy, seriously its not the end of the world, did you at least get to have lunch?” I heard a grunt, then a sigh. Not good.

“Obviously not Lisa, I’m on call tonight apparently. I don’t even understand what they want me there for since I just worked the morning shift two days in a row and I’m not even a real doctor yet. Like what the fuck? This is abuse” 

“Okay babe, see you at home!” I hung up with a smile on my face, determined to make something out of today other than cleaning curry with Amanda. So I opened Twitter. 

12:21 PM

@misalartin: pity, i only shop organic. 

@misalartin: excessive hormones,

you know?

Not even thirty minutes had passed when he replied.

12:43 PM

@jamiethebee: so tell me when 

and where.

tap to download attachment.

It was then I realized I had not stopped internally screaming since 8 am, because it was the only way to explain how I had not fainted yet. 

Jamie Lee Oliver had been my celebrity crush ever since I knew how to turn the tv on. He had started out as a child star in my favorite tv show Morgan’s Backyard, and then had gotten into more serious stuff like action movies, playing superheroes and whatnot. Once I grew out of children’s tv, I stopped following him as an actor although his Instagram and Twitter were a true gift for my feed. He was beautiful, with dark brown hair and equally dark skin that made his pearly smile stand out beyond anything else. His chocolate eyes blended perfectly well with the rest of his complexion, which made him seem really inviting in the way his eyes disappeared almost completely when he smiled, almost like he wanted everyone to have fun along with him.

Doubt started to creep in and was slowly consuming me. I knew exactly what I had tweeted, but it was exactly that, just a tweet. I never imagined he would even see it, much less acknowledge it. Besides, I didn’t know if it was the smartest idea. I mean Leo had cheated on me, and in my old apartment when I was supposed to be in one of my classes. So I got home early because I was in the mood to skip and that’s when I found him. On my bed, on top of a freshman rushing for the sorority I belonged to. Even in that moment, I was not a confrontational person and I absolutely hated violence. But he had also shattered my trust completely and disregarded our relationship. 

In hopes of being more proactive and doing the right thing, I replied.

12:48 PM

@misalartin: alright, BJ’s

in Forest ave 

@misalartin: say 6?

12:49 PM

@jamiethebee: it’s a date then. 

***

My hair was resembling a mood stone. In weak attempts of making my hair even, it had turned a beautiful brick orange. Adding the smell that undoubtedly clung to my clothes, I was now the personification of a plate of curry. 

All of that didn’t matter once I got to BJ’s and saw a tall figure leaning on one of the walls outside. He had disguised himself extremely well, with a black hat that cast a big enough shadow to hide his face. Which I was thankful for, because the clothes he was wearing would not help him blend into the crowd. With a pair of checkered pants and a teal coloured shirt which made it clear he had missed the class on “How to dress up for a spy mission™”. 

Taking a deep breath to calm myself down, I forced my feet to move towards him. 

“Well one of us clearly misunderstood the mission” I said jokingly when I reached him. 

He looked up from his phone and I managed to keep my cool. Not because I could, but because the sun was glaring right on my face, which made it impossible for me to see practically anything. My knees almost gave away when I covered the sun with my hand. It took every ounce of willpower for me not to jump and squeal like a crazy 12 year old girl, he was really here in front of me looking all perfect and ready for a fashion show. Contrary to myself, which looked ready to sleep in a homeless shelter. My black sweatpants and hoodie clashed completely with him and you could immediately tell we were opposites when it came to the lives we had. 

“Lisa, right?” Jamie’s voice was deep and almost a whisper, which made a chill run through my body like electricity. It made me want to hear him speak forever, not caring about the topic he chose.

“Yeah. Um, do you really want to do the egg thing?” I couldn’t stop the words from escaping my mouth once I saw he had not one, but two boxes of 12 eggs. 

His laugh was like a song that I wanted to listen to in replay non stop until I couldn’t stand it. And then he did the unimaginable, he pouted.

“What, chickening out already?” I smiled in embarrassment and looked down at my feet to hide my blush. 

“Weren’t you taught that violence is not the answer?” I questioned him and his smile only seemed to grow bigger. Which was nice, but also worrying since it meant I was losing my moral battle.

“It’s not like we’re throwing eggs at someone, right? It’s just a house. Nothing a good cleaning can’t fix” He took off his hat to ruffle his hair before leaning down to whisper in my ear “Besides, who knows what else can happen” Jamie leaned against the wall again with a smirk, knowing perfectly well the effect he was having on me.

“Alright, you had me at eggs” I smiled sheepishly and then dragged him along to the bus stop. We kept talking, asking each other questions and trying to disguise our flirting behind lame excuses to get to know each other better. 

He lowered his hat even more once we got on the bus and kept his hand on the small of my back in order not to lose me in the mess of people. It felt natural, like it wasn’t the first time we met and his hand was used to touching me all the time. 

“So how come you talked to me?” I asked curiously, turning my body towards him. The bus lurched into a sudden stop, which caused me to stumble forward. Jamie caught me quickly, securing both arms around my waist and crushing me against him, since he was leaning on one of the walls. Thankfully, the eggs stayed safe beside him. 

“Well the offer was more tempting than the usual ‘Jamie I love you please marry me’ kind of thing” He rubbed my arms and held eye contact with me the whole time and I was in heaven.

“Naturally, who doesn’t want to egg houses instead?” I quipped with an eyebrow raised and he laughed under his breath, like he didn’t want people in on our conversation. 

“If egging houses is what I have to do to spend time with a pretty girl, then I’ll choose it over marriage any day” I was not one to fall for the usual lines, yet here I was struggling to reply without him finding out that I was very close to calling the whole thing off and take him to my apartment instead. 

Snapping out of my thoughts, I glanced outside and pressed the buzzer to get off. Jamie followed me walking along the sidewalk but this time, in silence. I walked these streets like I never stopped, being grateful I chose to move out of my apartment after everything that happened. 

I stopped when I recognized the familiar stones that led to his porch. It felt like I was living my worse nightmare. The maroon mailbox contrasting with the blue porch but clashing with the shiny Audi parked in the outer garage. 

Suddenly, it didn’t seem like the best idea. I had to leave. Best case scenario: Leo found out but didn’t press charges. Worst case scenario: Jamie and me end up in a jail cell. Neither situation seemed appealing to me. Especially since they both involved talking to him. I wasn’t the best at concealing my anger. And I had a lot to conceal.

I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt Jamie’s warm hands wiping my cheeks. He crushed me to his chest as if we’d done this a million times, and I took a deep breath to calm myself down. The tears had stopped, yet he kept running his hand through my hair and rocking us softly.

He stepped back only to lean down and open the first dozen eggs. He placed one in my hand and then looked at the Audi in front of him.

“Do you think it has an alarm system?” He voiced my question out loud. 

“I really hope not” And then I threw the first egg. 

***

Either Leo didn’t care about his Audi becoming an omelet, or he simply didn’t find out about it. I was over the top we were not stuck in a jail cell, and even more happy I had avoided confrontation. 

We were walking in silence again, the weight of reality on our shoulders. Now that we had pelted an entire car with eggs, there was nothing left to do with each other. It was no secret that he had to go back to Los Angeles and I had a curry explosion to take care of, yet I was finding it hard to see how our paths could cross again.

“I smell curry. Can we extend our date to more than just damaging private property?” Jamie stopped to look at me properly for the millionth time and once again, my knees threatened to give away. God his eye contact was going to kill me. 

I didn’t have the heart to tell him how I was the source of the smell, so I nodded and let him lead the way this time. 

One thing I had found out about Jamie Lee Oliver, he was not the best with directions. We walked around the same block four times before I got tired and yanked his phone from his hands.

“Just tell me where you want to go” I sighed exasperatedly and he chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Take me to the best burger place you know” And with that, he wrapped his arm around my waist and kept walking naturally, like he hadn’t just caused my heart to perform a drum solo in my chest. 

It was a long walk, especially since I was hell-bent on getting away from my exs’ neighbourhood as quickly as possible. Jamie didn’t seem to mind the distance, so I kept my mouth shut. 

“So Lisa” He spoke my name like it was foreign on his mouth, yet he treated me like I was anything but “Tell me something about yourself, something you haven’t told anyone” The words he spoke made me want to cringe, yet his tone was so inviting, it was impossible to refuse. 

“Well” I hesitated, there could have been a million things to say that would have made me look better or more attractive. Instead, I chose “I’m the reason you smelled curry” Jamie tried to mask his surprise as best as he could, yet it was clear this was not what he had imagined I would say. 

So naturally, I continued “My roommate managed to cause a curry explosion in our kitchen and when I came home from my interview I had barely any time to get ready before I met you and I clearly didn’t think things through because if I did, then I wouldn’t have showered. Which sounds disgusting but it would’ve made the smell less apparent and my hair a little less similar to a burning building. Also I tried to dress for the occasion but actually made an effort to look presentable, but clearly I didn’t do—

His lips were what interrupted me. One second I was boring his ears off with my rambling, the next Jamie Lee Oliver was kissing me. It was like no other kiss I’d had, he towered over me but not in an awkward way and his hands seemed to touch me in the right places at the perfect time. He was rumoured to date many girls and I understood why, he felt as comfortable kissing me as he looked when he was acting on camera. Reality caught up with me and made me lose focus, so Jamie pulled me closer to him by the waist. 

After what seemed like ages, he pressed his forehead against mine and pecked me a few times on the lips then closed his eyes and stayed silent for a few seconds, just holding me close to him. My eyes darted all over his face, trying to find something appropriate to say, yet words failed me. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have done that, but I’ve been meaning to since I saw you crossing the street to meet me” 

Looking back, if I had to pinpoint the moment things changed for the both of us, I would say it was this one. Because this, was when I threw caution to the wind. It was like I couldn’t get enough of him. So I kissed him this time.

Laughing against my lips he pecked me once, twice. Then held my hand and continued walking in the direction of the restaurant. 

***

I was a blushing mess the remaining walk to the restaurant. Even when we asked for a table for two, I couldn’t keep it together. In fact, I felt my face grow even hotter, if it was even possible. 

“That blush is fucking adorable” Jamie whispered in my ear and his hand crept lower, which did not help at all with my blushing. 

The waitress raised her eyebrows at Jamie’s blunt movement but led us to a table in the far corner of the room.

“I don’t do this often, not with many girls” He blurted suddenly, still looking down at the menu. I’d decided to order the french burger and was waiting expectantly for him to decide, yet this had caught me completely by surprise. His warm eyes met mine in a piercing gaze “I don’t want anything serious either”

“I just egged my exe’s Audi, I can barely stomach a burger let alone a serious relationship” I blurted honestly and he grinned. I had just found my way into Jamie’s heart. 

He grabbed my hand while he ordered for the both of us and when he ordered a taxi to take us back to my place. He continued to hold it while we kissed in the elevator, and when we continued to do so everywhere in my apartment. 

Jamie Lee Oliver held my hand the way he held my heart, and I don’t remember him ever letting go. 

[blushingonmyknees]

An Owned Boy Explores Walmart

My shoes have been falling apart. I am in desperate need of new shoes and debated about going shopping tonight right after work. I got in my car, thought about going out and then realized it was rush hour. Maybe I could wait until another day.

I started going home and only made it about a half a block. I have been feeling very submissive today and have been wanting to purchase a kneeling cushion for my knees. My Domme likes me kneeling and I like kneeling and bowing for her, but I have knee pains that sometimes cuts into my time on them. I have been curious how a kneeling cushion/pad would work to remedy this and help me increase time on them.

Once I was about a half a block closer to home, I realized that tonight was one of a few nights where I was actually not working and was able to be alone. I quickly decided to go to Walmart.

It was about a 20-minute drive, but worth it. I debated which would be the logical order to get items on my list (shoes and a kneeling cushion). I then realized that since I was there, maybe I should go belt shopping too so my Domme would have new items to tie me with and beat me with.

I decided to start with the shoes. This is a different Walmart than I typically go to so it took me some wandering around to find them. I wound up in the women’s section and since this is the nicest Walmart in town, I was surprised by the variety of shoes, boots and heels.

I had mentioned to my Domme before my desire to go shoe/boot shopping with her and being reminded of my place the whole time. Kneeling to help her into her footwear, walking two paces behind her and carrying all of her items.

There were definitely some options that caught my attention. I know she is not the biggest fan of heels, but I saw a pair that I thought she would look amazing in. I attached a similar photo below, but the ones they had, had a much smaller heel and were tan.

I liked them because of the open-toe look. She could easily make me bow down and kiss her toes or her shoes, whichever she preferred. *blushes* Just the thought of helping her into them and then being made to do that makes me feel very under her.

Anyway, I finally made it to the men’s section and they actually had my size! I was surprised since not many stores carry up to my size. I found a pair that worked and then went about the rest of my list.

I texted my Domme these images and said, “Too bad there’s nothing all that pretty.” My hope was they would have had a belt we both liked and I would have went to the dressing room to try it around my wrists, ankles and throat. *blushes* 

After looking at the belts, I decided to go to the gardening section. I looked around and it was mostly taken over by Christmas items and decorations already. Truthfully, I only looked a couple minutes because I got distracted by the Christmas items and started going down the aisles.

Once I got to the summer gardening section (the one that is typically outside), I saw a male clerk. I thought what the heck and went up to him. “Excuse me, do you carry kneeling pads,” I asked. “Kneeling pins?” he said. “Never heard of them.”

“No, kneeling pads or cushions. Like what someone uses to kneel on in the garden.” Once I said this, my mind immediately imagined myself kneeling in the middle of the garden while in my Domme’s presence. It was quite the thought.

He informed me that he didn’t think they ever had kneeling cushions and that if they carry them, I would have to wait until summer to purchase them.

I said okay and then continued walking through the store, feeling extra submissive. I checked Walmart online to confirm that they do, in fact, carry kneeling cushions. They do, but none are available for purchase at any of the stores currently.

I then decided to just wander up and down some aisles, just in case. I remembered when going to the store last-time with a friend, that they had rope in the hunting section. I was curious and decided to check it out.

I found the section! I actually checked the price on the rope and then texted my Domme the image. I then had to run my fingers up and down the rope to feel its texture. I was hoping it would be softer but all of the rope options felt fairly strict. I like this, but also know it probably wouldn’t be safe for overnight bondage.

My Domme later texted me and said, “Did you buy a bungee cord by chance? I want to experiment with them.”

Truth be told, I never even noticed the bungee cords. They hadn’t even crossed my mind because I was so focused on the ropes. I have a feeling I will be in this aisle again in the future.

I continued walking around and looking for items to kneel on. Surprisingly, I found an item that threw me way back into my early teenage years. Sandpaper!

I am still surprised I even remembered this memory. Back when I was younger and first learned that desiring bondage and submission was actually something other people felt, I learned of the word “dominatrix”. I googled this trying to understand these feelings.

One of the first-ever dominatrices I found online was someone named Mistress Evita. She talked about her slaves and this definitely intrigued me as a young sub. On one of her blogs, she mentioned making one of her slaves purchase sandpaper and a pair of gloves. He was very needy and kept begging to touch himself, so she had him cut out the cushiony hand-part of the gloves and superglue sandpaper there. She then made him touch himself and kept him in the gloves for quite some time.

Just seeing this sandpaper reminded me of this and made me feel like I was that young submissive once again. I leaned out, ran my hand up the sandpaper and smiled.

I continued my journey and kept walking aisles aimlessly while thinking of other items I could purchase to increase my submission. I walked past the pet aisle and there were several people there. I did not think anything of it and made it only an aisle or two over when I realized something... collars!

I had to go back and look.

I snapped a picture just so I could show my Domme later. None of the collars really interested me all that much but I did like the variety of colors.

I went down an aisle a bit and then one (or two) caught my eye! I have desired to be buckled in a collar by my owner someday and I found one that looked interesting. I took a closer look and then had to feel it.

The one that intrigued me was the woods-y one... and then the pink one. I lifted it up and let it drop. It felt fairly weighty, which made me happy. It is also fairly thick, which is something I hope my collar is someday too. I sent my Domme this and she said once my throat feels better she will have me in my collar so I don’t have to have collar envy at the store. *blushes* Apparently it was fairly noticeable.

She also mentioned that in the second to last picture the stake down wires would be interesting to explore with me. Here I thought I was noticing all the items that could increase my subservient status but I definitely did not. I really do hope she has me tied to stakes someday.

I would be lying if I said I did not also look for shock collars. I doubted Walmart would have any, but I did look just in case. I still think it would be really fun to have one attached to me in certain areas and her in full control of the remote. Conditioning me to be an even better pet for her.

I think it is no secret you have been on my mind all day, Ma’am. I have been craving you and am very addicted to your place above me and my place under you. I just want to be there, constantly.

[metaphorical-love-for-a-car]

Marry You-- Joe Mazzello x Reader

Request; “How about a joe mazzello based on the song marry you by Bruno  Mars? Idk” ( @hi-i-dont-know )

Warnings; some language, the song is fem! specific but the story itself isn’t

Word Count; 1.8k

Notes; sorry it's taken me so long to get around to this lol

You couldn’t believe it. You had worked so hard for so long, and you finally did it. Here you were, standing on a stage, accepting an award at a prestigious ceremony. People were clapping, and cameras were everywhere. Never in a million years did you expect this to happen. 

You stuttered through your acceptance speech before scurrying back to your seat. The rest of the awards ceremony seemed to go by in a haze as you continued to try to wrap your mind around the evening. You were in desperate need of a drink, and the after party couldn’t come soon enough.

Dozens of people came up to congratulate you, and you only recognized about half of them. You quickly gulped down your drinks in an attempt to make yourself calm down. It wasn’t the wisest idea, but it was all you could do besides leaving the party, which you obviously didn’t want to do. You were tipsy, borderline drunk, and still feeling overwhelmed. That’s when he decided to approach you. The last thing you needed was your childhood celebrity crush to show up, but that’s exactly what happened.

Your first introduction to Joe Mazzello was when you watched Radio Flyer shortly after it came out, then you saw him again in Jurassic Park. Your younger self thought he was cute, thus your childhood crush formed. As years went on and the two of you started to become more successful in the world of entertainment, you had met each other once or twice, but it was always in passing. Neither of you really spoke to each other much. The most interaction the two of you had was via social media, occasionally liking each other’s posts. 

Needless to say, you were worried about embarrassing yourself because you had too much alcohol in your system for your mind to properly function, and it didn’t help that you continued to drink. “I’m sure you’re going to be sick of hearing this by the end of the night, but congratulations!” Joe flashed you a bright smile. You laughed before thanking him. “Mind if I sit?” He nodded his head towards the empty stool next to yours. You shook your head.

“No, not at all!” Joe sat, and the two of you chatted about basic stuff, like ‘Have you tried the shrimp? It’s pretty good!’ or ‘I’ve been going ninety-to-nothing tonight and can’t wait to finally get home.’ You normally felt awkward during small talk, but this was nice. Maybe it was just the alcohol that was making this feel so comfortable. Maybe it was just his charming personality. Either way, you didn’t care. You were enjoying it. 

“Hope I’m not bothering you. I’m sure a ton of other people would like to talk to you.” You scoffed at Joe’s comment and dramatically rolled your eyes.

“Oh, please! I’m having way more fun talking to you than I would have if I were talking to some of them. Besides, it’s not every day that you get to hang out with your age-old celebrity crush.” You brought your glass to your lips and froze. Did you seriously just say that out loud? No, surely not. You weren’t that drunk, right? You slowly lowered the glass, glancing over at Joe. Shit. You did say it out loud. His mouth was open, looking shocked. And his cheeks were red. 

“You... wait. I’m your celebrity crush?” You felt the heat rising to your face and nodded. He ran a hand through his hair. “No fucking way. This is crazy. You’ve been my celebrity crush since we first met at that movie premiere a few years ago,” Joe said enthusiastically, very much resembling a child telling their friends about the cool toy they got for Christmas. You covered your mouth in an attempt to stifle your laughter. Joe’s brows knitted together, but his goofy grin remained. “I’m serious!” 

“This is too good to be true. It sounds like something out of a fanfiction book on Wattpad or Tumblr.” Joe laughed, stating his agreement. He suddenly grabbed your hand. His eyes were wide and mischief danced across his features.

“I’ve got an awesome idea, and it’ll really make life like a fanfic.” You pursed your lips, eyeing him suspiciously.

“What’re you planning, Joe?” 

“It’s a surprise! Now, where’s the closest Walmart?”

Who cares if we're trashed Got a pocket full of cash we can blow Shots of Patron And it's on girl

The two of you managed to find an Uber at the ungodly hour of the morning it was. People gave you odd looks when you first walked into the store. Some because they recognized the two of you, and some because you were both in incredibly formal attire... while drunk shopping in Walmart. You headed straight towards the candy, and Joe disappeared. As you were paying for the mountain of candy in your arms, you felt someone tap on your shoulder. It was Joe, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “You okay?” you snickered, grabbing the plastic bag from the worker before thanking her. 

'Cause it's a beautiful night, we're looking for something dumb to do Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you Is it the look in your eyes or is it this dancing juice Who cares baby, I think I wanna marry you

“Actually, there’s something important I want to ask you.” You raised a brow at him, and he took a deep breath. When Joe got down on one knee, your jaw dropped. He pulled out a ring that had a little silver frog on top, its back made of a green gem. “Let’s continue with the fanfiction themed night, shall we?” You laughed, nodding. Joe beamed up at you and slid the ring onto your finger.

“Is this actually happening right now?” you asked in between laughs. Joe shrugged. 

“Dunno. That sounds like something for our sober selves to figure out. Wanna check out the Redbox movies?”

I'll go get a ring Let the choir bell sing like ooh So what you wanna do Let's just run girl If we wake up and you want to break up That's cool No, I won't blame you It was fun girl

Your head was pounding. Bringing a hand to your face, you rubbed your eyes before squinting them open. How much did you drink last night? You could hardly remember a thing... that is until you realized you weren’t in your hotel room, nor were you alone. An arm was wrapped around your waist, and the person’s head was nuzzled against your back. Fucking shit. Your mind was reeling, trying to remember what had happened. A part of your mind tried to rationalize that maybe you didn’t hook up with someone. After all, you were still dressed. Then again... the sweats and baggy shirt didn’t belong to you. 

You were worried about waking whoever was beside you. You were desperate to avoid any awkward and embarrassing interactions. Slowly reaching out, you went to pull your phone off of the bedside table. That’s when you noticed the ring. Your breath got caught in your throat as a sudden sense of urgency flooded your system. You tried to turn your phone on, but a black screen stared back at you. Of course, it was dead. Well, there was only one thing you could do. You started peeling yourself from the person’s grasp. As you did, the person stirred. When you were finally able to turn and look at them, it felt like someone dumped a bucket of rocks into your stomach. “Damn... my head’s killin’ me,” Joe groaned while rubbing his face. Your mouth open and closed. You couldn’t think of anything to say. Joe removed his hands, finally meeting your gaze. His eyes widened. “Oh my god...” was all the could muster up.

“Joe, what the hell happened last night?” You showed him your hand, and his face reddened. 

“Well... I-- uh-- don’t remember much. I don’t think we had sex, but I don’t know about that.” He pointed at the ring. Joe quickly sat up, snatching his phone from the floor. Thankfully, it had been charging. 

He had multiple missed calls and unopened text messages from his friends, most of which said something along the lines of ‘Joe, what the hell is going on? Is this real?’ Joe swiped through his camera roll, but most of the pictures were goofy selfies or short videos of the two of you wandering around Walmart. It didn’t really offer much information. You suggested looking through your social media accounts. Lo and behold, it was the jackpot. Your twitter was filled with cringe-worthy levels of cheesy and sappy pickup lines, all of which had Joe tagged in them. He responded to a few, but his replies only consisted of various heart emojis. Joe’s Instagram story had dozens of photos and videos of you two, most of which you had already seen in his camera roll. Then there was one post that had the caption ‘I liked it so I put a ring on it (guess we’re engaged now)’, and you had commented ‘#couplegoals’. You decided to take a look into your own Instagram account, clicking through the story photos you remembered posting. When it finally got to something new, you couldn’t help the butterflies that formed in your chest. 

It was a video of Joe, laying in bed next to you. Your head was on his chest, and you had an arm draped across his torso. You were out cold, and Joe had a soft smile on his face. “(Y/N) fell asleep in the middle of our Night At The Museum marathon, so I decided to hack their insta.” He glanced down at you, his smile growing even wider. “They’re so adorable, even when they’re snoring like a freight train. But don’t let them know that I told you guys that,” he said the last part with a serious expression. Joe pressed a kiss to the top of your head, then the video ended.

“So I guess we got engaged,” you mumbled, examining the little frog ring on your finger. “We know that much happened.”

“What now?” Joe asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You glanced at him, and he was idly tracing a pattern into the bed’s comforter. 

“Well, first, I think we should get some breakfast. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Then maybe we could start with a date and see how that goes?” Joe looked up, meeting your gaze. A smile spread across his lips.

“I like that plan.”

Don't say no no no no no Just say yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah And we'll go go go go go If you're ready, like I'm ready

Just say I do Tell me right now baby Tell me right now baby, baby Just say I do Tell me right now baby Tell me right now baby, baby

Tag List;

@mothermercuryy @mmmmmitslikeadiseaseson

[crystalinn]

I haven’t posted about this here yet, but boy howdy has my life been A Mess™️ of late.

TW: medical talk, high stress situations, mentions of blood under the cut

This is a very long post, so a mild TL;DR: ma’s sick and this is me for eternity now (loud noises in video): 

Picture it. November 10th (ish. Time is hard.). The motherbeast came down with a case of viral bronchitis. She got a few days off work to recover. 

A couple days pass. She went back to work. Her manager sent her in the cooler for two hours. 

An immediate downturn ft. a fall out of bed that took 45 minutes to fix, heavy panting, confusion, the whole lot. She went to the Express ER. They said “oh hey, your viral bronchitis has become full blown pneumonia. You’re goin’ to the Real Hospital™️ for two days. See if you respond well.” Turns out, she did, at first. 

About a week or two of what seemed like solid improvement all came crashing back down when her return to work arrived. She went back to work... or tried to. She went to step onto the curb and gravity said no. She faceplanted the pavement, and the ambulance was called. A thorough concussion check later, and her manager drove her and her truck home. The next day, she went back to the Express ER, and they said “oh shit, your lung xray is worse than last time. Back to the Hospital for you.” 

That stay was nine days long. She was tested for tuberculosis (which came back negative, thankfully), and had a PICC line installed. During said stay, she did get rather confused and agitated, as it was near the end of the month and the rent needed paid. She called me in the middle of the night, asking me to move her IV... despite me being at home. So that was a thing.

After she came home on the 4th of this month (December), I had to start administering her PICC line antibiotics, every 8 hours. Did y’all know that cefepime (a bigboi antibiotic) smells like someone doing unholy things to eggs? Sulfuric smelling bullshit, that. Had some hiccups there, what with massive air bubbles in the line and getting the infusion orb stuck on the line. We were supposed to be done the 25th. Then she went to her new primary care doctor, and it was extended to the 6th of January, which h.

Anyway, fast forward to the 23rd. Mum was out with a pal, getting some groceries, and some Miralax ‘cause... y’know, and she fell on her ass. At this point, falling down is like a glowing neon red flag. She came home, was a bit wobbly, but was generally okay. Her primary care doctor called after the home health nurses stole some blood to tell her that her potassium levels are critical. A friend/my ‘adopted’ brotherbeast, Frank, brought her a fuckton of bananas that night. 

Now this is where it gets real fuckin’ spicy. The morning of the 24th, after we get done with the 7am orb, I gave her a dose of Miralax. She was fine, until the 3pm orb, when severe gut cramps showed up. Those lasted until about midnight when things... moved along. After that, shit went downhill fast. I put her to bed after orb times at 11 pm, and she kept waking up. As time went on, she got more and more confused. Like, she knew general things, in a kinda slow way, but she could not follow directions. On the morning of the 25th (fucking Christmas.), things had reached its boiling point. She was very confused, unable to focus, slurring words. I rang up a friend, Sandy (who has been a massive help this whole time of Fuckery), to get her to the ER. This triggered a complete meltdown. It took both of us to get her out of her chair, not to mention the sudden burst of confused crying and begging not to go. 

We finally managed to get her there, and the ER’s like “yo this looks like a stroke, so we’re gonna keep her, do an MRI or three, and get back to you.” Turns out she was very dehydrated, currently has a UTI, and is still a bit... shall we say, fucked up. But, the MRI came out clean, but there was some issue with the PICC with like, a blood clot, but they cleaned it out, so they let her go on the 26th. 

But just wait for it... I put her to bed pretty much as soon as she got home, ‘cause she doesn’t sleep in the hospital. Makes sense, right? I went to check on her at about 8, and she was unable to really comply with requests/commands/questions. I’d ask “what’s your name?”, I’d get her name (most of the time), but when I’d ask “when’s your birthday?”, I’d get her name again. Or the fact she lost her PICC line cap, and I’d ask her to hold the newly sterilized port so it wouldn’t touch anything, she’d say okay, take it, and immediately drop it. Repeatedly. 

I broke down whilst on the phone with my dad because everything has been too much of late, and eventually put her back to bed to wait for the 11pm orb. 

11pm rolled around... and well. I couldn’t get her to wake up. She’d react to me poking and prodding her by making noise and moving away, but she would not wake up. Not properly. So, I called the on call home health nurse to see if she could help, and she pretty much told me to just call an ambulance. Not wanting the expense because I live in Hell the US, I called my dad. He helped me try to wake her up over the phone, but she flat refused. I was left with no choice. So, I called the ambulance, and just before they knocked on the door, she sat up like “huh?” but extra confused. She almost didn’t go to the hospital because she said “nah, I don’t want to go” but one of the EMTs was like “nah, you gotta go.”

So, she spent about 8 hours in the ER, and they told me that they can’t keep her since she was mostly lucid, but they did float an Idea (a skilled nursing facility, at least until she got her ducks in a row) to her that was immediately denied, but with some prodding from me, she finally agreed. So they moved her upstairs from the ER to keep her until they can find a facility in the Blue Cross/Blue Shield network that’s reasonably local. The one that came to visit yesterday turned out to not be, and I’m pretty sure the dude kicked it back to the Case Supervisor to see if they can find another. But, after they moved her into her room, she’s cleared up quite a bit. 

She’s still a bit slow on the uptake sometimes, a bit unfocused, and can get caught out in the grapes mentally, but she has improved a lot. 

Oh, and another thing she’s been doing is fighting me re: eating since the first go around. Bread’s a texture issue, rice is hard to eat without teeth, and everything else “smells bad” (which, since she’s quit smoking as of that second hospital stay... I understand, but you gotta sometimes push past that.) I did manage bananas though. Thank fuck for those. 

But, back to the plot: today (the 28th) was a decent day. Much clearer, less starts and stops in her speech. A bit more focused. She didn’t manage to sleep last night, so she was kinda tired. Had another MRI, but we won’t know about that until probably tomorrow (the 29th). Maybe. Had some PICC issues, though. The nurse got the cefepime running just fine, then mum had to use the bathroom, and when she came out, the machine started screaming bloody murder. After that, the nurse came back and tried to flush the line, since the cefepime was unable to run, and when she took the syringe off, the saline shot right back out... which ain’t supposed to happen. Hit me, the nurse, mum, the bed... probably got the windows too. So they’re working on that, and hopefully they figure it out.

Had my own woes at the hospital today, too. The sole of my boot fell off, so my ride/friend/adopted sister?, Sandy, went to walmart and got me some Heavy Duty Superglue, which I got it about half way stuck before we had to leave... then when we were pulling into the parking lot at home, the nurse in charge called to ask some questions about the PICC, the antibiotic, how long it’d been there, how long she was supposed to be on it, the pharmacy’s number, all that. So I went to get out of the car, my coke bottle fell out of my pocket, started rolling under the car, and I overextended. Fell right on my knees. They are not happy. Took a hot minute to get my dumb ass off the ground, without hurting Sandy, who is like 5′2″ and v smol. I am 5′6″ and... decidedly not. Plus the bonus rain.

UPDATE 12/29/2019: the diverticulitis has made a reappearance. It’s like everything is just It’s free real estate.

UPDATE 12/31/2019: Around 2 am this morning, she managed to roll out of bed and whack her head pretty good on something. They did a CT scan, and it came out clean. No concussion. However, now she has a sitter/keeper/minder to make sure she doesn’t do it again. It’s a good thing the nurses heard her fall, ‘cause despite being armed, the bed alarm didn’t go off. I know of all of this, ‘cause the hospital called me at 3 this morning, and boy howdy that’s a gut drop, let me tell you. But, better a CT ride and a bump on her noggin vs. the alternative. Sure is one thing after a-fucking-nother, ain’t it though.

UPDATE 1/1/2020: 2019 keep your problems challenge: she's had a major mental shift again, and now she's really groggy, really confused... So the hospital moved her to the ICU and called me for consent on a spinal tap, just to make sure they're not missing anything. Other than that, they've done x-rays and another CT, I think to check her spine, hips, the one leg she's been having issues with. The doctors also think that it may be the cefepime causing this altered mental state, and after doing some digging, boy howdy I sure believe it. Cephalosporins are some nasty fuckers.

So! That’s been my month and a half! I’d like to take a break now, please!

EDIT: Further updates found here.

[something-tofightfor]

Neon Lights - Epilogue (part 2)

Pairing: Ryan Brenner x Reader

Word Count: 6198

Rating: M (language)

Summary: What happened to Ryan after he caught the train to St. Louis?

Parts 1-11  and the first part of the epilogue can be found on my 500 follower event masterlist (at the bottom of my main Masterlist page). 

Thank you for reading. Please enjoy.

It’s long. Oops. 

Tagging: @ooo-barff-ooo @agent-bossypants @likethetailofacomet

POV - Ryan

  Ryan had managed to fall into a restless sleep after bracing himself in the corner of the train car, but he’d woken up after only an hour or so in pain and quite cold. Digging in his pack, he’d found a bottle of ibuprofen, dry swallowing three of them at once and focusing on his guitar case. My wrist is broken. There’s no way it isn’t. Even in the dim light, he could see the bruises creeping up his palm beneath his thumb, feel the swelling of the tissues in his hand, the stiffness of his fingers. Nothing I can do about it til St. Louis. While waiting for the medication to kick in, Ryan had reached out, using one hand to unlock his guitar case and pull out the recorder, turning it over in his hand. Without thinking, he’d turned it on and pressed record, taking a deep breath before speaking. “Hey, you.” He sniffed, shaking his head. “I screwed up. I screwed up bad.” He continued for a few minutes, venting his frustrations into the frigid night. If I can’t talk to her directly, I can pretend.

 As morning broke, Ryan had prepared himself to jump from the train, easing his pack and then his guitar back onto his shoulders. Though it threw him slightly off balance, he’d tucked his injured hand into the space between the buttons of his jacket to stabilize it as he’d exited the train, teeth gritted as he snuck across the rail yard and each step jostled it. Look for the tower. He peered around, eyes wide open and when he’d seen the metal structure Kenny had mentioned he headed for it, a determined set to his lips.

 His friend had been waiting for him next to a dark green SUV, and Ryan wasted no time in asking Kenny for help with removing the items from his back, getting them placed safely into the backseat. Kenny’s green eyes looked the younger man over carefully, and Ryan offered a sad smile before asking to be taken to an Urgent Care. “Think I broke my playin’ hand, Ken.” With a slump of his shoulders, the man had agreed, driving Ryan to the closest medical facility.

 The wrist was broken, an X-ray confirmed it, but it wasn’t a bad break, and the doctor told him that if everything went well, the cast that was being put on could come off in roughly six weeks, followed by a few more weeks of splinting to ensure complete recovery. He’d felt his heart drop at the diagnosis, even though Ryan had known that it was coming, but it wasn’t until the wrist had been immobilized in a stiff cast that it truly hit him: he couldn’t play guitar. “You’ll notice that once the wrist starts to heal, you’ll be able to bend the fingers more, Mr. Brenner.” The doctor was kind, carefully manipulating Ryan’s fingers, which were poking out of the end of the cast. “Be sure to at least try to move them as often as possible, keep them limber.”

 “I’m a guitar player, sir.” Ryan had spoken quietly, eyes locked on his arm. “I need my hands to make my livin’.” The doctor had placed a hand on Ryan’s shoulder, squeezing gently.

 “You need to take a few weeks off, son. It’ll do you good.” Would it? Ryan had swiped his debit card to pay for the visit, shaking his head at the fact that he could afford the few hundred dollars for the initial payment, and headed back out to the car where Kenny was waiting. He wasn’t about to attempt to pay for the pain pills that the doctor had prescribed, and so his friend had driven them to a Walmart, where Ryan had loaded up on over the counter medication, grabbed a six pack of beer, and purchased a new phone. Not that it matters. Who am I going to call?

 He’d been racking his brain and trying to remember your number, but though he could remember the last seven digits, he didn’t know the area code. All he knew was that you were from the east coast somewhere; you’d mentioned in passing that it was why you felt so at home by the water, why the cold weather didn’t bother you, but there were so many options that he was overwhelmed, and he knew that there was no way he’d ever figure out the right three numbers. Why didn’t I ever ask where she was from?

 So he talked to you through the recorder, the days passing slowly with the assistance of some leftover pain pills from Maria getting her wisdom teeth removed, telling you stories and recording a few bars of lyrics at a time. Though unable to play, Ryan was writing up a storm, the lyrics flowing from him and onto paper, onto the memory card, waiting for the day when he’d be able to pick up the guitar and strum again like he wanted to.

 Two weeks in, Ryan had started performing with Kenny, who was an accomplished musician himself. The gig that had been promised was at a local bar, Tuesday and Friday nights, and thanks to the recorder, Ryan had been able to play his music for Kenny to listen to and learn. It was weird for him to sit idly and simply sing along, but Ryan slowly got used to it and became more comfortable gripping a microphone with his healthy hand, leaning in focusing on singing rather than playing the guitar. Without the guitar in his hands, though, Ryan didn’t look down as much, instead focusing on the people that were watching him perform, taking in the smiles on their faces and the look in their eyes as they appreciated what he was showing them. He still closed his eyes often, but he was looking at the people in front of him much more closely.

 He always sang as if you were standing right in front of him, gazing at him with those big, wide eyes, your lips parted slightly as you focused on him - focused on his voice, focused on the performance, but every time he opened his eyes and you weren’t there, it was a shot to the chest again, just knowing that there was nothing he could to to reach out, to simply let you know that he was doing OK - to tell you that when he’d been hurt, you were the first thing - the first person he’d thought of. So he told the recorder everything, pulling it out in quiet moments on Kenny and Maria’s porch, talking to it as if it were truly you, right there, in the palm of his hand, which, aside from some 60-odd hours in Vegas, was the only way he’d ever really had you: through a speaker and a screen. It shouldn’t be like this.

 By the time he and Kenny had played a few times they’d established a healthy dynamic between the two of them, taking cues from each other - and Ryan actually felt content. It was good to be on a stage, and though they played a lot of covers, a lot of newer songs, they always sprinkled in a few that Ryan felt at home singing, always played “Southbound”, always ended with something he’d played for you in Vegas - Johnson or Croce or Seger. It was hard, thinking of you and your honest reactions to him every night he played, but it felt right - and it kept him at his best.

 He wore your shirt at least one night a week, calling it his good luck charm since he’d had it on the night the bar owner had asked if they would want to play three nights a week since Ryan and Kenny had started drawing larger crowds than usual, and the man liked the extra profits. Not only were they making money gigging, but the tip money that was coming in seemed almost unreal to Ryan. It wasn’t quite Vegas tip money, but he’d quickly made back the money he spent on the Urgent Care trip, which was a relief.

 By the fourth week, Ryan was unable to keep his hands in his lap, and he’d convinced Kenny and Maria to stop worrying about him. After gingerly playing a few songs in their living room with only mild discomfort, Ryan took his guitar to the bar with him for the first time in St. Louis. He was a little clumsy, a little off - but it felt good to get back to his routine, felt good to have the body of the guitar resting on his knee again as he played backup to Kenny. And the best part? His fingers didn’t hurt anymore, though his wrist still ached dully for the majority of the day and even worse the days following gig nights.

 Taking a break and stepping outside to breathe, Ryan stared up at the star-lit February sky, hands loose by his sides, the fingers of his right hand flexing. What are you doin’ right now? “You’ve got a gift, Ryan.” He was startled out of his thoughts by a female voice from his left, and he turned to see a middle aged woman - a redhead with kind features - standing a few feet away, her arms crossed over her chest. “Your friend Kenny sent me out here to talk to you, I know his wife, Maria.” About what? He frowned but nodded, watching as she stepped closer to him and reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone. “I’d like to hire you.”

 Ryan had listened in disbelief as she’d explained that she and her husband were looking for a vocal coach for their daughter, who she’d shown him via a picture on her phone - and, once his hand had healed adequately, someone to teach her to play the guitar, too. “I’m not a professional, ma’am.” Ryan swallowed and shook his head, heart pounding. “I just play for fun and I sing because I like it.” The woman shrugged, closing her eyes and when she opened them, she was looking at Ryan as if him saying no would destroy her.

 “My daughter just wants to learn. She wants to do something she likes, and we want to encourage her.” She sighed. “I don’t want her to learn from someone that’s going to fill her head with the idea that she needs to sing what’s popular, or be absolutely perfect to be good.” The woman tentatively reached out, touching Ryan’s shoulder. “You’ve got a voice that’s meant to be heard, and if you can help my daughter find hers - find out if she’s got one too, it’ll be worth it. We’ve seen you and Kenny perform three times now, and you just get better and better every night.”

 He’d agreed, after telling the woman that he didn’t know how long he’d be in town for, but she’d waved him off dismissively, telling him that even a few weeks would be great. Starting the next Monday, Ryan had gone to the woman’s - whose name was Alicia - home, met her husband, and met their fourteen year old daughter Melissa. The girl was eager to learn, eager to listen to Ryan’s instruction, eager to watch him play the guitar - especially when he’d explained that he was re-learning to play too, since he’d broken his hand.

 The time with the little girl had reminded Ryan of Lia, of how much finding and developing a talent could change a person’s behavior, and though they only met twice a week, Ryan looked forward to the time spent with Melissa and her parents, foraging an easy friendship with the adults. He never mentioned the fact that he was a drifter, though he assumed that they knew since they knew Kenny and Maria, but as the weeks passed and Melissa improved, Ryan did, too. The ache in his wrist faded almost completely, and as that happened, he was able to bend it a little more, fingers more easily finding the strings. He still wasn’t able to completely lose himself like he had before, but it was progress and it was important.

 Between playing at the bar and teaching Melissa, Ryan focused on the future. He didn’t mind staying in St. Louis, didn’t mind the people, and actually made a few new friends, but as comfortable as he was, he knew that the time would come for him to leave. Slipping on the ice had been a wake up call for him, but it was the feeling of isolation - specifically being cut off from someone that truly cared for him on a deep level - that he’d experienced upon realizing that his phone was missing that had stuck with him in a way that being alone never had  before.

 There had been plenty of women at the bar and around town that introduced themselves to him, asking if he’d be interested in having a drink or seeing a movie or going out, and though a part of him - the rational part - had wanted to agree, simply because there was a very slim (if any) chance he’d ever find you again, Ryan had always politely turned them down with a quick smile and a shake of his head, fingers running through his hair as he thanked them for the offer.

 If they were that bold with him after simply watching him sing, what were they like with other men? He’d never felt like that with you, remembering back to your genuine interest in his music before him, your hesitancy when asking him about his prior relationships, his own fear that you’d tell him you were seeing someone, that he was merely a distraction. But you weren’t and he wasn’t and when he’d bared his soul to you the following morning as he knelt over you, fighting with everything in him to keep his body from pressing against yours even though it had been all he’d wanted, it had been the truth - and he was glad that he’d said the words. ‘You deserve more. You deserve every night, not a night or two in a hotel room’. He still believed that, but as each day passed in Missouri, he realized just how much he wanted to be the one to give you those nights, and his days, too - and it had taken him far too long to admit it.

 He loved traveling, loved seeing new places and meeting new people, but like when Cowboy had died without warning, without anyone knowing what had happened for days, Ryan knew that he was in dangerous territory each time he looked at his casted wrist. A broken bone in his arm was one thing, but what happened if he hit his head? What if he broke a leg or injured his back? There were benefits to being alone, sure, and Ryan had reaped them for many years, but the more he thought about it, the more value he saw in being with someone, being in a place where people knew him - with someone that got him.

 As the days passed Ryan realized that there were two different kinds of people, and he was almost desperate to figure out which category he truly fell into. People like Georgie and the friends he stayed with in Chicago were always going to live life on the road, they’d never settle in one place, never be happy enough to stay. People like Kenny and Maria - and even Virginia had found reasons to stay in one place or another, found a purpose in their life, something that had stood out clearly to them. Even Jackie fell into the latter category, as someone whose priorities had changed dramatically very quickly, but she’d never looked back, instead choosing to wholeheartedly focus on what was essential to her: her family. Who’s my family? Do I need one? Though your face flashed in his mind as he thought, he shook his head, pushing the thought to the side. Can’t think about what you can’t control, Brenner.

 By the time his cast came off in March, replaced with a rigid brace that he was only supposed to wear while sleeping and he’d forked over another $200 out of his account for a copay, Ryan had made up his mind. While he wasn’t going to leave St. Louis right away, he wasn’t staying, either. Being landlocked didn’t appeal to him, and he was itching to continue his journey east. He poured over maps, knowing that there were a ton of big cities within reach as soon as he reached the eastern seaboard, but he didn’t want just any city, he wanted one where he’d feel comfortable, but not be overcrowded or feel swallowed by everything around him.

 The beginning of April brought good weather to St. Louis, and Ryan and Kenny informed the bar owner that Ryan would be leaving, which resulted in a solid week of them playing nights in order for people to come and enjoy them for a few final days. Ryan’s last lessons with Melissa showed immense progress, the girl beaming from ear to ear as she played for her parents, and as he’d walked out of their home for the final time, Ryan felt pride that he’d been able to teach someone something meaningful, leaving a lasting impression on someone because of his talent - hopefully encouraging them to continue honing their own.

  As he said goodbye to Kenny and Maria, heading out and toward the trains, Ryan had felt free - he felt focused, knowing where he was heading, and he would have been lying if he’d said he wasn’t excited to see what Memphis had to offer, that the feeling of climbing back onto the train, no support on his wrist wasn’t the best one he’d had in months. He let the breeze - still cool, even though it held the promise of true spring - blow over his face as he rode across Missouri and Arkansas and into Tennessee. It was a short ride, and within a few days of leaving St. Louis, he’d established a new routine that included wandering through Memphis and looking for inspiration. Wonder what you’d take pictures of here. He wrote down lyrics, came up with titles for songs, talked to the people he saw on the streets - Memphis was everything he’d imagined it to be, and Ryan was having fun.

 His fourth night in the city, Ryan found himself wandering down the street near the Mississippi River’s east bank when he stopped in front of a tattoo shop advertising that they took walk in appointments. He tapped his foot for a few moments, unconsciously rubbing the inside of his right wrist while looking around and then with a grin, turned and walked through the doors of the building. It’s time for a new one.

 With a bandage wrapped around his wrist just under an hour later, Ryan made his way back to the bus station, where he’d rented a locker for his things again. As he watched the people move around him, Ryan couldn’t help but smile. This is normal. This is… right. He was jolted out of his thoughts by the ringing of his phone and picked it up, greeting Georgie. After a quick conversation, Ryan rolled his neck, taking a deep breath. While there wasn’t any urgency in the phone call, his friend had wanted to touch base, inviting Ryan to meet up in New York City the last week of May, giving Ryan four weeks to make his way north.

 Spending one final night in Memphis, Ryan hopped on a train going east the following morning, taking it as far as Nashville, but after only a few hours in the city, he knew it wouldn’t be a place that he could stay. No matter where he went, there were people like him - playing guitar on the corner, reading poetry on the stoops of their houses… trying to make a go of it. While the city itself was beautiful and lively, Ryan knew that if he stayed, he’d be consumed by it, crushed under the weight of people stepping over him to find their own success, and after less than 24 hours, he was again moving east, the ride between Nashville and Charlotte a two day ordeal.

 The closer Ryan got to the coast, the more excited he was. He hadn’t seen the Atlantic ocean in years, and was looking forward to the day that he got to again. Soon. So soon. Charlotte was another short stay - a few days with his friend Natalie and her daughter while Natalie’s husband Jack was somewhere overseas. They weren’t friends from traveling, Ryan had known them as he’d grown up in Virginia, and he’d kept in touch with them throughout the years.

 Natalie was a friendly face when he desperately needed one, and having his own room, his own bed, and access to a house that was empty most days was welcome after three months on a futon with Kenny and Maria, no matter how grateful he was to them. Ryan’s relationship with Natalie was easy, and as the days passed - a week of them - he realized that with as much as he wanted to keep traveling, having a routine, having something concrete to look forward to was just as refreshing.

 The agreement had always been that when Ryan stopped through and Jack wasn’t home, that he’d help her with things around the house, and so as he finished up the list of things she’d needed, Ryan had told Natalie that he was heading out within the next few days. “You should go home, Ryan. It’s been how long? You said you told your friend to get closure, shouldn’t you do the same?” He’d told her about you, about meeting you in Vegas, about the way that you’d gotten each other, had connected on a mental level before anything physical had happened, and Natalie had heard in his voice that he loved you, something that Ryan hadn’t admitted out loud to himself. “You may not find her there, but you might just find what you’re looking for.”

 And so Ryan said goodbye to the two women, hugging both of them tightly before Natalie pressed a brief kiss to his bearded cheek, whispering that she hoped he found something worth having. That ride was another day and a half long, and Ryan slept for much of it, waking up only to assess where he was and to eat. He was tired, and still had just over two weeks until he needed to get to New York and to Georgie, but almost as soon as he got off of the train in Norfolk, Ryan had felt sick to his stomach. This isn’t home. This isn’t my life.

  But he knew that when and if you’d gone home, you wouldn’t have half assed it, and so he vowed to himself to stick it out, too. He used the library to find his mother’s grave, to visit her and tell her that he was sorry for running, that he wished he could have done something to keep her safer, that he was hoping that he could make something of himself and eventually make her proud. He sat on the ground, even as it started raining and talked to his mother until he ran out of things to say - telling her about where he’d been and what he’d seen and what he’d done. “But the thing is, Ma… the thing is that in these last 12 years, it’s never been enough. I’ve had some good times, but… nothin’ worth stayin’ for. Nothin’ that made me really feel alive or important.” He frowned, standing and looked out over the water before looking down again at his mother’s grave. “’cept for one thing, Ma. One person.”

 Virginia hadn’t felt like home, but Ryan was glad that he’d finally said goodbye to his mother. He felt lighter as he waited for a ride the next morning, opting to hitchhike north to Baltimore instead of taking a train, and once he’d been dropped off in the Inner Harbor area, he immediately set up and began playing. Strumming the guitar put his mind at ease, and Ryan decided that once he’d earned enough for the day, he’d get a cheap motel and figure out what to do next - with his last ten days before heading to New York.

 Later that night - fresh seafood in his stomach and feeling clean from a hot shower, Ryan was laying on his back in the bed, staring at the ceiling. He was totally silent, guitar packed in his case, simply thinking, and as the light changed in his motel room and day changed into night, Ryan came to a conclusion: it was time to think about stopping, about leaving the trains behind. He wasn’t old, but he was getting there, and he wasn’t getting the same joy out of being in a different city every few days that he had previously. He’d been perfectly happy working with Melissa and playing in the bar at night with Kenny. “Maybe you’re right.” He finally spoke, rolling onto his side and burying his face in the pillow - scratchy and flat, but more comfortable than a lumpy couch.

 Georgie likely wanted to record in New York, and while Ryan was fine with that, it wasn’t what he wanted long term. He wanted to perform - wanted to entertain people - but didn’t need to be told when and where to be, what to play… “This is it.” Ryan sat up, running his hands through his hair. “The last trip.” He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. He didn’t know where he was going or what he was going to do, but Ryan knew that coming back east had been the right call - ending his travels where they’d started was poetic, and Ryan was ready to find something new, something permanent - something real. He’d get a job, try to find more work teaching or playing weekly like he had with Kenny… whatever he did, he didn’t want to spend hours upon hours in trains anymore, he wanted an actual life - he just needed to decide where.

 Ryan felt a weight lifted from his shoulders after making the decision, and he moved quickly to his guitar case and grabbing the recorder out of it along with his room key. It’s time. He slipped out of the room and made his way back to the waterfront, sitting down on a bench and taking a few deep breaths. After a few minutes, Ryan turned the recorder on, holding it close to his mouth. “Hey, you. I made a decision today, and I think you’d be happy for me.” For the next thirty minutes, Ryan talked into the recorder, his voice growing hoarse as he reached the end of what he had to say, swallowing hard.

 “And I guess this might be the best thing for me.” He licked his lips, shaking his head. “I think if you were here, you’d be brainstorming ideas with me for where I should go, where I should end up for good - or at least for now.” Ryan sighed. “I hope you’re happy. I hope you’re settled. I hope you found what you’re lookin’ for.” There was another long pause and then Ryan closed his eyes, bowing his head. “I did. And then I lost it.” He sniffed. “I lost you.” Ryan stayed on the bench for a while longer before returning to his room and falling into a fitful sleep, the blankets bunched around his thighs.

 The next morning, he made his way back to the waterfront, guitar in hand. He settled in, an easy smile on his face as he began to play. He didn’t sleep in motels again, but over the next three days and nights, Ryan played until his fingers hurt and his voice gave out; he wanted to make the most of his final days as a traveler, be sure that his decision was the right one. He still talked to you, but only in his head, knowing that while he still cared - still loved you, he had to accept reality; if he hadn’t found you yet, if you hadn’t found him…you weren’t going to. The world was too big, there were too many people, too many places. You weren’t supposed to have found him in the first place, so how could you find each other again?

 Four days after arriving in Baltimore, Ryan stepped out onto the highway, thumb up and accepted a ride to Philadelphia, his last stop before New York City.

 ---

 He’d totally forgotten that one of Kenny’s friends lived in Philadelphia, and so as soon as he arrived in the city, he headed to her house after texting to ask if he could stay for a few days. Ryan dropped his stuff off, grabbed the spare key, and headed out to explore the city. After a few hours, he’d seen the charm of the downtown area, the parks, the Zoo, the people. It was a bustling city full of history, and as he walked, he felt calm, felt settled. He didn’t understand it, but when he pulled his guitar out that night to play, he felt better than he had in weeks - and it showed. Ryan had a larger crowd his first night n Philadelphia than he’d had since St. Louis, and it felt good. He’d asked some of the people watching where a good spot to set up during the day would be, and many of them recommended Rittenhouse Square, telling him that it was easy to connect with other musicians there, that he’d fit right in. Tomorrow. I’ll spend all day in that park.

 So when Ryan had set up at Rittenhouse Square the following morning, taking a seat beneath a tall tree, he’d been excited because the square had already been bustling, even at 10:00 am. Students, professionals - people that were simply enjoying the warm temperatures streamed by, and Ryan soaked it all in. His wrist felt good, his voice sounded good, and Ryan played happily, conversing with people as they stopped to make conversation with him, offering a genuine smile or a laugh multiple times. He was having fun, but his mood changed throughout the day as he thought of you, began to doubt his decision to stop moving. If I stop traveling, I’ll never find you. If I keep moving, there’s a chance. Knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to keep up with anything upbeat, Ryan chose a melancholy song, clearing his throat and taking a deep breath as he pressed record and started strumming, playing the song for the first time in a few years.

 …Well I've heard there was a secret chord That David played and it pleased the Lord But you don't really care for music, do you? Well it goes like this: The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift The baffled king composing Hallelujah…

 Ryan closed his eyes as he played, getting lost in the song. He thought of his life. He thought of his friends. He thought of his family. He thought of you. He thought of your hands and your eyes and your face. He remembered your voice, remembered how sincere you’d been with him. He sang as if he were singing for you, throat aching from the strain of letting himself get emotionally wrapped up in the song, but he knew it was the only way. It has to be authentic.

 The song continued and Ryan’s voice held, though it wavered a few times, particularly near the end of the song. When he finished playing it, he paused, opening his eyes and looking up at the first man who’d stepped forward to speak to him, leaning in to tuck a few bills into his case. “I’ve never heard anyone sing that song like that, man.” Ryan looked at him, feeling his heart pounding as he caught his breath. That was… I didn’t know… Ryan opened his mouth to speak to the man, thanking him, but froze as he heard a female voice from his right.

 “You’re really good.” There’s no way. His fingers tightened around the guitar neck and he forgot that he was speaking to someone as he turned slowly toward the sound. “Your voice is incredible.” She’s here. This isn’t possible. Ryan looked down, quickly setting the guitar back into the case and stood, eyes finding yours again. There’s no way. This isn’t happening. He watched as you stepped toward him, too, before stopping, your eyes bright in the early afternoon sun. She’s from Philadelphia. Of course she is. “Do you know any Robert Johnson, Ryan?” You got the last sentence out but he barely heard it; all he could hear was a roaring in his ears as he stepped closer to you - only a few steps away now. He heard your words from Vegas again - I found you in a crowd of hundreds of people - and felt his heart pounding even as he stepped closer still.

  “Are you…really…” He spoke spoke directly to you and even as the tears ran down your face you nodded, reaching out for him. His fingers touched your face, cupping your cheek and you gasped, a sob escaping your throat as your own fingers closed around the fabric of his (your) shirt, tugging on it. “Oh God.” His hand slid around to the back of your head and he pulled you to his chest, his other arm circling around your back, holding you tightly. After a few moments, your free hand moved up to grip his shoulder, and as he tilted his head downward, pressing his lips to the top of your head. He knew that he was crying too, but he didn’t care. He kissed the top of your head again before tilting his head to rest his cheek against it. “I told you I’d see you again.”

---

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Oh Whiskey, Please Part Two

Check out here for part one or find it here on AO3!

Quick note: I was surprised by the response to this, but thank you guys so much!! Likes and comments so much, since I'm still kind of unsure about writing in this world.

Summary: Everyone on the team has their own specialty, their part to play. Mine just may be a little more... Unconventional than theirs.

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

It didn’t occur to me until far too late why Debbie had really chosen me.

Tammy had the presence of mind to shield her shock only a few seconds after she caught sight of me; I could practically hear the ‘click’ of her teeth as her jaw snapped shut. I glanced back at Lou to find her trailing me after she shut the door, hands tucked into the pockets of her pants.

I seemed to have caught her in the middle of a once-over; her eyes were on my legs and sweeping upward when they snapped to mine. She smiled, almost uncharacteristically sheepish, and I knew that look. She was caught.

It made my heart ache, and rather than shoot an accusation at her, I turned away, striding to the space behind the couch and leaning down beside Tammy. She looked up at me, and I, back at her.

“So, how’s married life?”

“Oh, it’s wonderful.”

“So wonderful that you’re here? Or did you finally get bored of knocking off Walmart.” She pursed her lips, nudging my arm good-naturedly with her shoulder.

“They deserve it. Their labor practices are awful,” she grumbled. I rolled my eyes a little, straightening and heading over to the bar.

It was almost odd; everything was where I remembered it, but the people were all was so different.

Well, almost everyone.

“You know, she waters down the vodka at the bar,” Debbie said matter of factly, coming to my side. I passed my freshly made vodka tonic to her in favor of making myself another one.

“Is that right,” I said, though I already knew it was. And god knows Debbie knew that I knew. But she’d always done this— reacquainted me with facts about Lou, as if to lord over their connection.

“Mm,” she went on, “she uses the three finger method—“

“She sure does,” I said, turning and giving Debbie a sickly sweet smile before turning away, pressing past Lou on my way back to the couch. Not quickly enough, though, that I didn’t catch Lou’s widened eyes and amused smile.

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

“Her digital footprint is so much neater than yours,” Nine Ball shook her head, looking at Debbie over the tops of her sunglasses.

“How,” Debbie scoffed. I shrugged a shoulder.

“Times have changed, Deb. The rules are different.”

“Found ya Finsta, though,” Nine Ball went on and I couldn’t close the laptop fast enough before a few pictures of me in skimpily clad clothing popped up. I glanced back at Lou to find her brows raised. My ears went red. She’d taken a few of them.

“That account is private,” I groused. Nine Ball snorted.

“Not to me.”

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

My blood went cold when the picture of Daphne went up on the screen. I sank back into my seat, slouching, hand coming up to pillow my head. Debbie changed the slide to a picture of Daphne and I together at a fashion show, our heads bent together in conference. Everyone turned to look at me.

“The more eyes we have inside, the better, especially in proximity to our host,” Debbie said, leaning against the lip of the stage. 

“There will be people buzzing around her all night,” I pointed out, picking my head up.

“Reporters, celebrities, hangers-on, socialites—“

“And Rose, and you,” Debbie cut me off, switching the slide to another of Daphne and me. The photo was from a party a year ago; my arm was wrapped around Daphne’s waist, my hand on her chin, tipping her head to look at me.

The picture had sparked rumors that she and I were dating, or at least sleeping together, and she had denied them all outright. I hadn’t seen her since that had broken out.

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

“I always thought she was a lesbian,” Constance said on the way out the door. I looked back at her, unable to stop the harshness with which I fixed my glare on her.

“She isn’t a lesbian.”

“Then what is she?”

“...Intense.”

“That’s not an orientation—“

“Can you just focus on what you have to focus on?” I cut Constance off.

She shrugged, looking around.

“How are you getting home?”

“I’ve got my own way. Why, are you offering to fit two on that skateboard?” She turned away, setting her wheels down, but I cleared my throat, stopping her and holding my hand out.

“Phone,” I said flatly. She reached into her own pocket, pressing my iPhone into my hand and muttering,

“Sorry,” before skating away.

I shook my head, looking down at my phone.

“How are you getting home?”

I turned to look at Lou, who was flicking away a cigarette. She pulled a pack of gum out of her back pocket, unwrapping a piece and popping it into her mouth before offering me the pack. I waved it off.

“I’m gonna order a car.” Lou’s brows lifted, and I rolled my eyes.

“I’ll walk down to the main road, I’m not going to lead anyone to the Bat Cave.” She flicked her bangs out of her eyes, glancing down the road.

“I could give you a ride.”

There was something Pavlovian about the rush of excitement and lust that overtook me as I threw my leg over her motorcycle. I took the helmet offered me, snapping it on and pushed the shield down over my eyes. She settled in front of me, and I bit my lip behind my mask, eyeing my knees on either side of her hips.

She started the bike up, and my hands settled back to the hold on the back of the bike. She hesitated, glancing back at me, and I realized she was waiting for me to take hold of her, instead. I squeezed her hips with my knees, signaling for her to drive.

She revved the bike a couple of times before taking off. My stomach dropped and I leaned forward, wrapping my arms around her middle. I could feel her shoulders shaking with a laugh, and I pinched her side, knowing she’d sped off that way on purpose.

“Were they only rumors?”

I should’ve left her downstairs once she dropped me off, I couldn’t help but invite her up, and apparently she couldn’t help but agree.

We were on my couch, my legs on her lap, her hand on my calf like nothing had changed. I was getting sleepy, almost zoning out as her thumb skimmed over my skin.

I frowned a little, brow furrowing before I put the pieces together. I lowered my eyes to my glass and shook my head.

“Is this going to be a problem?” She asked, more quietly. I shrugged a shoulder, bringing my glass to my lips and draining the whiskey before saying,

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

[intothehoid]

Alright, I start at the Beginning: Beijing.

Unfortunately, I don’t have very many pictures of Beijing as a lot of these pictures were on my laptop when the hard drive died. Fortunately, I had already posted some on Facebook (what I was able to upload with the shady wifi... This will be a theme.) and had a few from other people. 

It was pretty surreal landing in Beijing. I had been on an airplane for about 14 hours. Maybe slept two (p.s. I don’t sleep well on airplanes if I’m any level of excited). On the flight I got to see pieces of Eastern Russia from the air so that was pretty fun! 

The company I went with - China Horizons - had asked us to all wear green so it would be easier to stay together (most of us had ever been out of the country before). My darling mother, in a moment of mom-insanity decided that the lovely NEON GREEN shirt on sale at Walmart for two dollars was the right choice. It was Winter, I didn’t own any long-sleeved green shirts. I acquiesced. 

SO. I arrived in Beijing having slept far less than I should have. I remember flying into the city. From a distance, you couldn’t really tell there was any pollution. I was feeling fairly astonished at the lack of it. Then as we got closer we could see, outlined by the setting sun, this cloud. Not as bad as some of the pictures, but as an Oregon native DEFINITELY more than I had ever seen. The whole process of getting of the plane, going through security/customs/whatever it was is a little bit hazy. Except that most of us had not a lot of idea what to do... We kinda winged it. But it worked because we were a bunch of white kids and nobody wants to be the person who lost the white kid in Beijing (another common theme, but even more poignant for me and my travel buddy Zhade because we were two young girls). Not gonna lie, the first night was a bit of a blue as well. But I remember getting to our hotel. It was in the heart of Beijing. Literally blocks away from Tiananmen Square, the Forbidden City, the Parliamentary Building. All that cool stuff.

It was also in the middle of what’s called a hutong. I do not know the English translation. But basically, it’s what’s left of old Beijing. Old, one-two story houses crowded around small, old streets, filled with old people and old traditions. It was a maze! I had to memorize a very specific route to get back to the hotel!

But that first night, after we got the hotel we went out. I managed to latch onto one of the experienced teachers and he took us a little restaurant and we ate. I genuinely don’t remember what I had, but it was good. 

Little restaurants. They are a thing in China. Most of the restaurants I went to were small. Like two rows of small tables crammed into as little space as possible. Some were bigger, nice restaurants. But most of the ones I went to were tiny things. I loved them so much. There was something about them that just drew you in. You were always welcome (I mean, you were a source of money, but also as a foreigner. People just thought you were the bees knees!) and the food was almost always amazing. I say this because I made the mistake of ordering what essentially amounted to a BUNCH of tofu in spicy. That’s it. I don’t have anything specifically against tofu. It’s not my favorite, but I don’t hate it. This... was not delicious. BUT most things were!

That first night, we wandered a bit. This was right at the beginning of February still in the swing of Spring Festival (we call it Chinese New Year in America. I told my students this and they thought it was hilarious!) so the city was alive! There were dozens of firecrackers all around us! Smoke from all the fireworks filled the air and people were going everywhere. Incidentally, this was far from the most crowded place I’d come to experience, but it was lively! A couple of blocks from the hotel there’s a wide avenue. As best as I could understand, it was a sort of... idealized ‘new city’ sort of deal. There were many shops and even more people! A trolley came through every now and then, but everyone was prudent about getting out of the way. No one wanted to enact the philosophical trolley problem in reality! 

It was a bit of a haze. A beautiful, startling, curious, intoxicating haze. (Literally and figuratively, there was quite a bit of pollution in the air). I had never been in a big city for a holiday before. And, honestly, in my experience America didn’t do holidays like this. Fourth of July, Memorial Day, Christmas, New Year’s, they’re holidays, but - at least as I had experienced before this - they weren’t festivals. There wasn’t staying out for hours wandering through an area full of shops and sweets. There weren’t fireworks around every corner and smoke so thick you were coughing, but it was glorious. There is something difference between a festival and a holiday and this, now this was a festival!

That first night I tried strawberries covered in malted sugar and skewered on a stick. It was scrumptious. Then we went back to the hotel, I tried to connect to the internet, just barely succeeded, let my parents know I was safe and sound and more than a bit starstruck, then I slept like a rock.

[glowingjesusgirl]

Chocolate Coins

By Jana K. Rego-Heins

 I stood nervously in front of the class in a royal blue bedazzled, sleeveless ball gown, white evening gloves with a tiara perched regally on my head. The one minute PowerPoint clip from a scene in the movie, The Count of Monte Cristo, was coming to an end. The clip is the scene where “Zatara” aka “Edmond” (Jim Caviezel) and “Jacopo” (Luis Guzmán) find themselves in an underwater cave on an island knee deep in hidden treasure: gold coins, gold crowns, and all sorts of precious jewels. Suddenly, with the same enthusiasm and delight that Jacabo displayed in frolicking in the immense treasure, I grabbed a handful of chocolate “gold” coins and flung them out into the classroom full of students. To my surprise and dismay, the students were not trying to catch them in greedy, hungry delight as I had envisioned in my preparation for the past several weeks, but instead, they were ducking from the “coins” for fear of injury as though my intent were to pelt them with solid gold shrapnel. What had gone wrong?!

Clearly this was not the reaction I had been anticipating.  

What brought me to this absurd moment?

In the spring of 2012 in an ongoing effort to complete my bachelor’s degree, I enrolled in a freshman level communications class. Although I was a senior, taught several classes of medical terminology, various massage classes and was the interim massage therapist program coordinator at Illinois Central College, I had missed this very basic general education requirement.

Truth be told, I was excited about the class. I had chosen a section of

Communications 110 taught by Professor Joseph Chianakas. Professor Chianakas was not only an outgoing, dynamic, all around funny guy, but he had also been the high school communications instructor for four of my seven children before he had accepted a position at Illinois Central College. I had become acquainted with him through parent teacher conferences for my children. Oddly, I felt pressure to perform well because my children had all done well in his classes. I did not want to be the one in our family to get less than an excellent evaluation from him.

The first day of class Mr. Chianakas went over the syllabus and described the three public speaking assignments that had to be completed successfully to fulfill the class requirements. Many groans, concerns, and complaints ensued. Mr. Chianakas words of comfort were that there would be several weeks of lecture and discussion before any public speaking began. True to his word, during the first few weeks the class examined the definition of and various forms of communication. We discussed the differences that cultures and subcultures had on communication styles, body language, and personal space. We also discussed the sympathetic “fight or flight” response that affects almost all public speakers to one degree or another, and coping tools for the adrenaline rush.  

Finally, after two and a half weeks, we received our first speaking assignment.

We were to give a five minute persuasive speech about a movie, music video, or video game. We had to use a one minute clip from the movie, music video, or video game in a PowerPoint presentation as well as at least fifteen still shots using different transitions, animations and formatting styles in the PowerPoint for visual aids.  Additionally, Mr. Chianakas said he wanted us to have an attention getter in our introduction. He stressed this several times. He wanted us to do whatever it took to capture the audience’s mind right from the start. The first presentations would start in three weeks. I was one of two non-traditional students in the class, and almost everyone else was already trembling, so I volunteered to present first. I really wanted to impress Mr. Chianakas, clearly an issue of family and personal pride was at stake.  

The movie choice was easy, The Count of Monte Cristo. To make sure I really liked it I watched it again with my husband, Kris, who had never seen it. I took notes of possibilities for the one minute clip and ideas for the still shots. As I pondered the assignment, a vision began to form for my introduction. I would present in costume as a Countess wearing a fancy ball gown, evening gloves, a tiara, and I would toss out to my audience gold coins made of chocolate!  

I knew that making the PowerPoint was going to be the most time consuming aspect of preparation since I was unfamiliar with some of the tools we were required to use. I learned how to take a clip from a YouTube video and insert it into the presentation. I also learned to use the animations for entry and exit of slides and different frames and shadows for the pictures. It was exciting to discover features of PowerPoint that I had never used before. Once I was satisfied that I had met all of the requirements for the presentation I began pulling together the elements of my attention grabber.  

My daughter Angela had been in the prom court or prom queen all four years in high school, so I had quite a collection of tiaras and dresses from which to choose. Any of the dresses would look ridiculous on me because I was a 50+ year old woman playing dress up in a ball gown, but I finally selected a strapless, royal blue, silver bedazzled full length dress that laced up in the back. I remember making the comment when I bought this particular dress for Angela that it was so expensive and beautiful I was going to find some occasion to wear it myself, I joked that maybe I would use if for a wedding dress if I ever got married again. With the costume chosen I felt that so far my plan for a “big opening” was going well. The finishing touch would be the chocolate gold coins to toss to my classmates. I was getting so excited about this introduction that I could not sleep at night. My desire to impress my children’s speech teacher/college professor was now bordering on obsession.

I began my quest for chocolate gold coins about a week before the presentation. My initial efforts to find the prize were at Dollar General, Walmart, Walgreens, Target and the like. If it had been Christmas time I probably could have found them at any of these stores, but it was now couple of weeks before Easter and there were none to be found. I refined my search to specialty stores like Party Barn and Party City. Much to my chagrin I could not find chocolate coins anywhere! Time was running out, I was only a day away from my presentation! On the edge of panic, I contemplated changing the introduction, but every other idea I came up with paled in comparison to the chocolate coins. Additionally, I had already made my PowerPoint presentation with the one minute clipped scene to jibe with the chocolate coins intro. What was I to do? I did what I have found is the best thing to do, I asked Jesus to help me. This was not a fancy formal prayer, more like a sigh, "Jesus help me!" I was a little embarrassed praying for such an insignificant thing, but impressions came that if it was important to me then it was important to Him. Somehow, I expressed to Him my growing concern that I had not been able to find the chocolate gold coins. All I understood in response was that He was listening and He was the provider, yet I had no clear direction except to keep looking.

I went back to Target because it was the department store closest to where I worked. (This was the equivalent of looking under the streetlight for a coin that you lost in the dark end of the street.) I ventured over to the seasonal section with a bit of renewed hope, after all, it was Easter time and even though gold coins did not fit the Easter story, I thought perhaps I might find thirty chocolate silver coins, I could make that work, but no. I then searched the candy aisle, again nothing but Easter egg M&M’s and traditional candy. I was beginning to feel like all was lost. I did not have time now to come up with and prepare for an alternative for my “big opening”. I was wondering why I had been so stubborn and had not changed my plan a week ago when there would still have been opportunity...

I was in a pouting daze wandering around the store when I came to myself standing in the baking aisle facing rows and columns of flour. There was self-rising flour, all-purpose flour, unbleached flour, bread machine flour, cake flour, etc. Rousing myself to full alertness I wondered what had brought me to that aisle. I am allergic to gluten and have not been in the flour aisle for years. I stood staring at the rows and columns of different types and brands of flour in different sized bags and then chastised myself for wasting time. I needed to be doing something, pouting was not going to solve this problem, and neither was staring at bags of flour, but what was I to do now! I took one more look at the rows and columns of flour began to turn away. As I turned I noticed that all of the columns were adjacent to each other, bag touching bag in each row, except for a hand width space about the middle of the second row. Something drew me to that unexplained space. It was not big enough to be a missing column of flour bags, too narrow. Why was there a space there? I looked closer and nothing was there as far as I could see. I was strangely intrigued by this. I am not sure why I was so intrigued, or why I even noticed it, but I soon found myself sticking my hand into the nothingness, reaching far back to find out what, if anything, was there. At full arm extension, my shoulder pressed against the surrounding bags of flour, I reached with my fingers and touched something. It felt like fine plastic netting, like the kind of fine plastic netting which contained the chocolate coins of my childhood Christmas stockings. Puzzled, I closed my hand around the netting covered objects and drew them out of the darkness of the flour filled shelves into the light. Opening my hand I squealed with delight! I put my arm back into the crevasse and touched more netting. I pulled that out too. Over and over I repeated this process squealing with more delight each time, because there hidden in the abyss in back of all the bags of flour were at least ten bags of chocolate gold coins! I was blown away! Barely able to contain myself, I quickly took my treasure to the cashier. When she tried to ring the coins up, she said that her register did not recognize the item, the coins were not in the system. I laughed and said of course they were not in the system because Jesus had just made them for me. She did not quite know what to think of that response. Smiling and ready with good customer service, she charged me a dollar a bag and rang them up manually. I broke out in praise songs as I left the store. Even in this, a matter of pride, Jesus proved exceedingly faithful to me!

Now, in front of the class, I was seeing that the chocolate coins may have been too much of a success, the students’ first impression was that they were being bombarded with heavy coins that could injure them. I broke character and paused my “big opening” for just an instant to calm the audience and exclaimed, “It’s okay, these won’t hurt you, they are only chocolate!” As soon as the students perceived that they were not in physical danger they began to smile and collect the chocolate coins. From that point on the presentation was a great success. During the Q&A following, one of the students asked me if I was “Mercedes”, the Countess, from the movie. I was flattered and amused. Mr. Chianaka’s comment at the end of the Q&A to the students was, “The bar has been set high for the rest of you” and to me, “Wow, now I know where your kids get it from!”

Thank you, Jesus, you are the God Who Provides in every need, even the little ones!

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #114

“oh yeah, i’m a reaper man; every good thing, i kill it dead.”

What kind of makeup do you think is appropriate for church?  Who cares.  Wear what you want; I don't see how your makeup affects God's opinion on you while in His house. What would you wear to church?  I don't dress up for the same reason as above.  I just wear my usual. Would/do you like having brown eyes? I like having blue eyes.  It's not that brown isn't pretty, it's just so common. What kind of gift would you appreciate for your birthday? I'm just asking for money again.  Can already go see Sara, time to work towards the tattoo. What do you use Facebook for?  My main reason is legit funny pictures lmao.  There's few people I'm actually actively interested in keeping up with. Would you rather be called a geek, a nerd or a dork?  A geek is 100% a compliment lol. Do you like pretzels? Soft ones, yes.  Especially the ones from those little shops at malls, omgggg.  I'd prefer to not eat hard ones. You want your next pet to be what? A bearded dragon.  Or two rats. Would you spend 20 dollars on a candle?  Ha.  No. What is the goriest thing you’ve seen in real life? There was a deer that died directly beside the road leading to our old house and it was decaying.  I still remember all the maggots squirming around in its side. @_@ Do you take any meds? If so which and why?  Mood stabilizers, anxiety med, something for nausea if one of my mood stabilizers causes it, Melatonin, something for heartburn, and birth control unless I want my uterus to tear me apart from the inside. Is "no glove, no love" your STRICT policy?  If I actually was to have sex, yes.  Even with me on the pill, I'm not taking any risks.  Not getting pregnant. If someone breaks a law, should they be punished if they did not know it was a law?  Depends on the law. Name a band you sort of like:  What a thing to admit, but Blood on the Dance Floor.  I like some of their songs, while others are just too repulsive. In your head do you call yourself 'I’ or 'you’ or both?  Usually "you," and always when I'm trying to calm or reassure myself, because it's like hearing validation of something from another person. Someone tells you 'well there are black people, and then there are (removed term bc fuck that word)’. What do you think?  My former friend used to say that and I fucking hated it. Who REALLY has a higher sex drive, girls or guys? How can you tell?  I might be mistaken, but I'm pretty sure there's science behind men having more of a libido. Do you enjoy wild parties?  I literally could never. Have you ever been stereotyped? As what?  I was called both emo and goth in high school.  It wasn't offensive to me personally, but I don't think I totally fit any stereotype. Who do you know that you believe does not masturbate?  I don't for a number of reasons, and I can name a few others I'm pretty sure don't. Does a cloned human being have a soul? Why or why not?  explosion.gif Who looks better naked, men or woman?  Women.  I'm bi, yes, but penises look fucking disgusting to me personally. Is there anything you won’t say unless someone else says it first?  Nothing immediately comes to mind. What’s your favorite type of doughnut? Either glazed or cake (the totally plain ones). Do you have any candles in your bedroom? Do you light them often?  No, I have an incense burner.  I use it often enough. What is your least favorite thing about your full name?  I just don't like my last name, and my middle name's too common, but at least I like the name itself. What’s your favorite kind of Poptart?  Probably the chocolate sundae one.  But I don't like Poptarts much. Do you think you look good with a hat on? I can't remember the last time I wore a hat. Are there some songs you can’t listen to because they remind you of something? "The Mortician's Daughter" and "Stairway to Heaven." Do you live near a street light?  No. Do you wear any rings? A red gem one I got from Mom, then a "bitch/jerk" friendship ring (Supernatural reference) with my girlfriend. Do you put collars on your cats? When we had cats, yeah. Do you like celery?  Ew no. Did you cry while watching the Notebook?  I've never sobbed at a movie, but I cried, yeah.  I've cried in subsequent watches too lmao.  I think I've always teared up, actually. Do you have a protective mom and dad?  Mom's extremely protective of me.  I'd say Dad's pretty normal. What field trip did you last go on?  Probably for a band competition in high school. Five ways to win your heart:  Uhhh.  Show compassion, patience, generosity, wisdom, and maturity. Your views on mainstream music:  It's getting too vulgar to be on the radio.  I firmly believe children don't need to hear profanity (they don't know when it's inappropriate to use) or talk of sex, and songs just have so much censorship yet lack thereof now.  If you're going to censor almost an entire song, why the hell play it?  Then some songs are so clearly about sex or just openly say the word that it bothers me.  I wouldn't wanna explain what sex is to say my like five-year-old if they heard some of the shit on the radio and asked questions. Put your iPod on shuffle and write that 10 first songs that play: 1.) "Clocks" by Coldplay, 2.) "Paradise City" by Guns N' Roses, 3.) "Blessed With a Curse" by Bring Me the Horizon, 4.) "Let It Die" by Starset, 5.) "I Don't Love You" by My Chemical Romance, 6.) "Animals" by Nickelback, 7.) "Shoots and Ladders" by Korn, 8.) "Divinity Statue" from DMC3, 9.) "Float On" by Modest Mouse, 10.) "This Is Gospel" by Panic! at the Disco. A quote you try to live by: "Life's hard.  Shouldn't you be, too?"  ... It's not meant to be an innuendo. How do you know when someone thinks you’re attractive?  I would literally have to be told lmao. Which one of your relationships was the shortest?  Two weeks and it was fucking stupid. Which was the longest?  Almost four years. If you want to get married, what age? I don't have a set age in mind.  Just whenever my s/o and I are ready. What did you end up getting for Christmas? A PS2 after mine broke years ago ahhhh, way too much money from my dad, his wife, and my grandpa, a "meerkat lover" street sign, a meerkat puzzle I'mma do and frame for my room, some pajama pants, an iHome for my iPod, Pikachu and Grumpy Cat plushies that're too cute, among other things that aren't coming to mind rn. Do you think buying underwear/bras at Victoria’s Secret is a waste?  Meh, mixed feelings.  Like they are way too expensive for some damn bras and underwear, but if they make you feel more confident or pretty in your body, buy them. Do you like glittery things? Usually. Do you like Red Lobster?  It used to be my favorite restaurant, but after I got sick after eating there, I haven't gone since.  Even though I was feeling sick before we went, it's just an association thing. What are you most scared of?  Relapse, losing certain people. Favorite video game?  "Silent Hill 2" Do you believe that leaving a significant other for someone else is ever a good idea?  YUP. because if you loved the first person, you wouldnt even consider the second.  <<<< This. Do you have any possessions that you’re very attached to, and you’d be absolutely devastated if you damaged or lost them? Absolutely devastated... the little rock I got from my partial hospitalization at Holly Hill.  When someone "graduates," you pick a shiny rock from a jar that gets passed around the room for your "classmates" to wish you well and say anything they'd like to say about you while they hold it.  I cherish that thing so much. What’s the naughtiest thing you’ve ever done, and you got away with it? I guess have oral entirely naked on the old chaise in the living room.  But we were home alone. How much do you want to weigh?  I was totally happy at 120, but I was fine at 140.  Supposedly I should be like 130-something. If you HAD to do your holiday shopping for EVERYONE in only ONE store what store would you pick?  Uh probably Walmart lmao. Do you believe that guns don’t kill people and that people kill people? Why?  People kill people, and that's coming from someone afraid of guns.  You have a choice where you're pointing that thing. What is the difference between a good poem and a bad one?  I don't like ones that are virtually impossible to understand. Which do you need more: sugar, caffeine, alcohol, drugs, sex, sleep?  I'm addicted to caffeine, I can't go two days without it. @_@ Who is someone you know should deserve more respect?  Ha, my Dad from my mom. What movie would you like to see again, that you haven’t watched since you were a kid?  The first movie that came to mind was "Shiloh." Are birds happy in cages? Are pets happy indoors?  I truly doubt birds are happy in cages, but maybe if they have enough entertainment and it's big enough?  But I'm sure like dogs and cats are fine indoors considering a whole house is much bigger.  Though I think bigger dogs especially need to be let out to run around sometimes. Hula hoops or jump ropes?  Jump ropes.  Loved it as a kid.  Now my knees would murder me. Can you understand sign language?  No.  But I remember learning this song in elementary school that we had to sing and do sign language to, but I don't remember any of it. Does anyone in your family hunt?  Nicole, my little sister. How about fish? Me and Dad, maybe his dad. Do you pronounce the "l" in salmon?  No. Have you ever gotten stuck on an amusement park ride? Thank Christ no. Have you ever seen an albino animal?  Maybe?  I've seen a white alligator, but it technically wasn't albino. Have you ever tried summoning Bloody Mary?  No. When is the last time you consumed alcohol? New Year's Eve.  I drank a margarita way too fast but felt nothing because my alcohol tolerance is God-Tier. ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ  (Though I like never drink.) Do you ever judge people based on if they believe in God or not? No. Are you sometimes scared to express your opinions in fear of what others might think? Y U P Do you ‘bless’ strangers when they sneeze? Sometimes. Would you rather go to a University or a community college?  The latter if they offered good classes.  It's cheaper, and you can still get a worthy degree. What’s your favorite kind of bread?  Pumpernickel. What toppings do you like on your pizza?  Only jalapenos or pepperoni. What color or design does your shower curtain have?  It's just white. What color is your microwave?  Black. Could you ever give yourself a shot?  If I had to, yeah. Have you ever been so embarrassed that you cried?  Story of my life. How many people have told you they were in love with you?  One. Would you ever have sex with the last person you texted?  Well, we're both girls, so actual sex would be psychically impossible, but I'd do as close as we could to it if she made it very clear she wanted to. Does it bother you when people don’t answer questions with exact answers?  Yes, especially if I'm asking them a question about needing validation for something.  Don't be vague. Have you ever watched a needle go into your own skin?  I usually do so I know exactly when it's coming.  And if I'm getting my blood drawn, I watch it for whatever reason. @_@ Have you ever seen someone get a piercing/tattoo? Yes. Do you like strawberry and banana smoothies?  Strawberry.  I doubt I'd like banana. Do you know someone that is mute, deaf or blind? My sister Ashley is literally blind in one eye, I think her right?  For the other two, idk. What’s your favorite horror movie? I really like both "Blair Witch Project"s, as well as "The Crazies." Is it true that people with depression CAN’T function in society?  Sometimes, absolutely. Can you think of any person or group you cannot empathise with?  Pedophiles, rapists, racists, abusive people, homophobes, the list goes on. Do you want to get married? If so, what color will your dress be? It'll be either black, white, or ivory, idk. Do you like peanut butter and fluff sandwiches?  NO. Do you play video games? If so, what kind?  Yes, just about exclusively story-based ones that usually involve horror.  But I like many others, so long there's actually plot to it. How old is your oldest and youngest friend?  Oldest is like... 32, youngest is 17, I think. How weight conscious are you?  Only extremely. Stripes or polka dots? Polka dots. What was your first word?  "Dada" What's a show that you absolutely refuse to watch?  "13 Reasons Why" Do you remember how old you were when you started swearing? 7th grade. Have you ever been involved in a custody battle before?  I'm actually not sure.  I don't think so.  If it did, Mom never told us. Did your parents ever let you play in the pits of those multicolored balls?  Yes, until I think a dirty needle was found in one of McDonald's ball pits. Do you think biting is weird or sexy? I like it so long you don't leave a mark in an obvious spot. Do you have a class ring?  No. What type of internet browser are you using?  Chrome. How long do your showers typically last? Not even ten minutes. Can you cry on cue?  No. Were you a Nancy Drew reader when you were younger?  No. Are you the kind of person that takes pictures with a drink in your hand?  No, and quite frankly, it's obnoxious.  You're getting intoxicated.  Congrats. Do either of your parents have a mental illness?  Mom has depression, and she says Dad's bipolar, but I absolutely don't see it now that they're divorced. When you were growing up, did your family rent or own your home?  Own. When was the last time you wore a full face of makeup?  I couldn't tell you.  The most I ever wear is eye liner, shadow, mascara, and lipstick, but I don't consider that a "full face of makeup." Do you own an iPad?  No. Have you ever experienced sleep paralysis?  No, thank goodness. Do you think it’s wrong for people to say 'retard/retarded’ as an insult?  I FUCKING HATE IT. How many people of the opposite sex have made you cry?  I think two. Would you eat a live tarantula for $1,000?  No, I just wouldn't be able to.  If it didn't have its fangs, maybe? What’s one health problem you wish you didn’t have?  Anxiety.  Shit would be so much better without it. Is your mom or dad the older parent? Mom by one year. Do you have any close friends that were adopted? No. Do you believe that people can be psychics? No. List these apple types from greatest to worst: green, red, yellow. Red, green, yellow. Does your house have more than one fireplace?  We don't have even one. When it rains does it leave a lake in your front yard?  No.  My original home was like that, though.  It ALWAYS flooded. Do you dread when people ask you to sign their yearbooks?  No, I actually found it flattering to know they wanted me to sign it. Where is one place that you’d never be caught dead in?  A strip club, to name one. Do you have a favorite Scooby-Doo movie?  I loved the Phantom Virus one.  Even had the game. Do you dislike when people ruin the endings of anything for you?  Yes, unless I ask to just be told. You are holding onto your grandmother’s hand and the hand of a newborn that you do not know as they hang over the edge of a cliff. You have to let one go to save the other. Who do you let fall to their death? What was your rationale for making the decision?  ... Whoa.  I'd feel fucking godawful, but I'd save my grandmother.  I'm not calling the baby less human, but my grandmother is more conscious of life and everything, I guess? Which would you choose: true love with a guarantee of a broken heart, or never loved at all? Why? Never love at all.  Heartbreak is fucking awful. Have you ever seen the movie "A Walk to Remember?" Cliche or worth watching?  I think it's worth watching.  Very sweet movie. Do you know how to sew? What’s your favorite thing to sew? No. Do you own many pairs of shorts?  I don't own any. Do you ever have movie nights with your significant other?  Ye<3 Do you like fiction or non-fiction books more? What’s your favorite?  Fiction.  "Johnny Got His Gun" and "The Outsiders." Have you ever slept in the same bed as your friend? Yeah. How many tattoos would you get?  I want LOADS. What brand of toothpaste do you use? Crest. Would you ever tattoo the name of a bf/gf or spouse on yourself?  No.  I'd get a matching tattoo relatively deep into marriage, but name, nah. What’s your least favorite season? Summer. D: What’s your favorite dessert?  Red velvet cake. Do you like cotton candy? Meh, I can have a couple bites. Do you have any shirts signed by famous people?  No. Where do you normally get your hair cut? A family friend's salon. What would your dream engagement ring look like? I really like dragon's breath opal rings or rose gold ones but idk how expensive either are. @_@ What’s the longest your hair has ever been?  Like to the small of my back. How do you feel about bleach blonde hair? Gorgeous on some people, not for me. Do you know anyone who has been arrested? Yes. Name 2 questions that you will most likely never say ‘no’ to:  1.) "Do you wanna go get a tattoo?", 2.) "Do you wanna Skype?" if it's Sara. Imagine someone has a great personality, sense or humor, family and job. they also really really like you a lot. Would you consider dating them if they: Were fat?  Yes. Limped?  Yes. Were a midget?  Yes. Had HIV?  No, because I'm too scared to put myself at risk. Were paralyzed in one arm?  Yes. Had a glass eye?  Yes. Had only 6 months to live?  No, that would destroy me. Would you get married on TV?  No.  I don't want people I don't care about watching. Do you own a metal detector?  No.  I did as a kid, though.

[86-was-his-year]

The Contaminated Chapter 4

Warnings: Just some minor swearing

I was very excited to meet Rose. Hearing of another girl that was alive and had he own free will had me hurrying to pull the clothes onto my wet body. even though I was distracted with my excitement, I couldn't stop thinking about my encounter with Frank. He was very... Polite and was not hungry for a women like most men were now that the apocalypse has been brought on. He made my stomach flutter as I thought about him. I didn't even know him.

"It's just been too long." I said rolling my new socks on before slipping my sneakers on. It has been a long time. I haven't had a boyfriend since I was 16 and still in highschool, let's just say that was a waste of time a good memories about all men. But, Frank was changing them. In the 10 minutes that I got to spend with him he has been on my mind.

I looked in the mirror one last time. I didn't know when I would again and it was good to keep a clean image of myself in my head. It's kind of like looking into the past, this is how I would look going to school or out to a family dinner. Family. I haven't seen them since they left to go up north for a family thing. I chose to stay home for work and to watch the house. In the beginning I spent the whole time wondering when they would come back or if they would. I stopped after two weeks.

I looked back up and realized tears had begun to fall down my face at the thought of my family. I wonder if they found a safe zone? My dad was always going on about the end of the world but, we never listened. At least my mom and sister's didn't, I choose to take lessons on how to shoot, how to apply a tourniquet, and what not. I wiped my tears and straightened out my clothes, waiting for my red face to go back to normal.

I expected to walk out of the bathroom to find Gerard or even Rose. What I didn't expect was Frank leaning against the wall parallel to me, eating an apple and quietly speaking to himself. I was so shocked I almost closed the door again and waited till he left. I didn't though, I kept my cool. For the most part.

"Oh, hey. I was just waiting here so nobody else walked in or anything." He said with a smile. His half eaten apple was forgotten and clutched in his right hand.

"Oh, thanks!" I said beaming back at him. The fact that he stayed to watch the door on his own made the butterflies take flight in my stomach again.

"It's really no problem. Is there anything you need before I take off?" He said bringing the apple up to his mouth again. His lips were thin and a pale pink. They curled around the edges and made it look like he was permanently smirking. They looked so soft even though they were rough and chapped. When he was done taking a bite of the apple he wiped away the tart juice that rolled down the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand and that broke me out of my trance.

"Um, could you show me to Rose? I'd really love to meet her." I said turning off the light to the bathroom and shut the door. I had cleaned a bit before I had left so I wouldn't feel guilty when someone else had to go and clean it later. Frank's adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed and he nodded.

"Sure, if you're ever looking for Rose, try the art section first. That's like her corner of the store. Ray's always in the prescriptions, Mikey's by the graphic tee's, Gerard's mostly by the art stuff too, and I'm always up at the front guarding the doors with Bob." Frank said gesturing around the store with his hands. I noticed that while Gerard kept his things at the front of the store, Frank had everything with him. His rifle was strapped to his shoulder as well as his bag.

"Oh, I heard you had all the idea's and stuff for the checkout lines and stuff. That looks pretty sick." I said smiling as a soft blush burst into his cheeks.

"It's really nothing. I've always wanted to be an architect and Gerard said we needed stations and a safe place to sleep. It sucks though, I can't sleep in there. My own work and I can't enjoy it." He said dramatically. His tattooed hand fell over his heart in mock sadness, and for the first time in years I laughed. The noise sounded dry and unfamiliar as it hit my ears. I stopped in shock and stared at Frank in awe. "Are you alright?" He said turning serious when he saw that I had stopped.

"Nothing, it's just I haven't laughed in a long time." I said putting my hand up to my throat lightly.

"Where have you been all my life?I live to serve thee. I shall make thee laugh forever." He said bowing poshly. I laughed again and water prickled at the edges of my eyes for the third time today. It felt amazing to laugh again. It was like a spark had his dead leaves and it had erupted into a forest fire in my stomach. It was almost nostalgic.

"I... Thank you." I said holding my stomach.

"Stick with me kid, We're going places." He said throwing his arm around my shoulder once he was close enough to me to do so. He continued walking with me glued to his side now that his arm was resting on my shoulders. It almost felt like a hug and it was very unfamiliar yet again.

As the aisles past me I could see that they were stocked and full, almost waiting for customers to come in and spend money on them again. They television sets could be seen from the distance and the dust they had collected over the years had turned the once black screens a beige color. Most of the T.V's that could be reached had smiley faces or curse words written in the dust. Frank had said that they needed to stop looking so gross so he had done that. From that information I could already tell he was the jokester of the group.

"Here is the lovely Rose. Be careful she might try and tackle you. She hasn't seen another girl in a long time either. Have fun!" He said pointing down the aisle to reveal a girl sitting with a sketchbook in her hands. She was scribbling away with her pencil as she shook her foot back and forth. Her tongue was stuck out in concentration dn her eyebrows were drawn to the middle of her forehead.

Her short, curly brown hair framed her face as she looked down at her picture. Big framed glasses hung low on the tip over her nose and it was almost like she was so in the zone that she was forgetting to push them up. The black t shirt she was wearing hung loose on he body and her black ripped jeans showed scars and recent cuts that decorated her pale knees. She wore black converse that were tied tightly around her ankles and double knotted in the front so they were secure if she had to start running.

"Frank, go away I'm busy." She said as she scribbled on.

"You have a visitor." Frank said in a secretary like voice. I stifled a giggle as Rose just shook her head and cracked a small smile.

"If it's Gerard tell him that I'm very busy right now." She said shifting around on the cushion she was settled on.

"Actually her name is Gracie." Frank said giving me a soft side glance.

"Her!" Rose's head immediately shot up at the word and she stared at me in awe. She dropped her pencil and sketchbook and stood up quickly. "Oh my gosh. You're a girl!" She said walking fastly over to where Frank and I stood.

"Well, I hope so." I said looking down at my outfit. When she reached me she enveloped me in a tight bear hug, making me squeak and gasp for a proper breath.

"Okay, Rose don't kill her. It's only her first day." Frank said shoving his hand in between us both. Rose backed away but still was in arm's length. She smiled at me like I was a million dollars in check that she had just won.

"I'm sorry it's just I haven't seen a girl in... such a long time. Okay Frank, go away I'd like to speak with Gracie." Rose said flapping her hands in Frank's direction.

"Okay, okay. Just, don't kill her." Frank said as he turned around to leave, giving me a small smile before fully turning around to walk away.

"So, are you okay? How did you get here?" She asked sitting back down, motioning for me to follow.

"I'm alright now. The guys brought me back when they found me in a car wreck." I explained sitting on the floor with her.

"Wow. Were you all alone out there or did they bring more back?" She asked picking up her sketchbook and pencil again.

"Yeah, I was alone since the beginning. It's funny I worked in a Walmart just like this one back when it all started." I said looking at the art aisle. The style and layout was the same as the one I had back home but, wasn't every Walmart like this?

"Woah. Were you caught in it when they attacked?" She asked while scribbling on her page again. I could vaguely make out a head of hair and an eye with the way the book was tilted but it looked pretty good from what I could see.

"No, My boss Tyler, gave us free shit and let us go home. He told us about the virus and I had time to board up the house before it officially hit. I watched the news until the screen went black and the power went out. It was fucking scary." I said fiddling around with my hands so I had something to do. I really missed art and seeing all of the supplies made my fingers itch to pick them up.

"Here," She said taking a pencil and a book off the shelf. "You draw?" She asked tossing it in my direction.

"I used to before all this shit happened. It's been so long I'm pretty sure I lost all the talent." I said chuckling. The black book was a bit dusty and smelt of really old book but when I opened the page it looked good as new.

"You can write your name on the cover. So if you keep it here Gerard will know not to fuck with it. You can keep it there's plenty more here and in the back stock room." She said motioning towards the back of the store with her pencil.

"Awe, thanks!" I said writing my name in the inside before putting my pencil on the page. I let my hand follow the face I made in my mind. I had made a couple mistakes as Rose and I talked. We talked about high school and our last relationships, what we did before the break out. it was like having a regular sleepover. It was crazy how much we were alike. We both listened to alternative rock and we liked to draw and sing. It was good to talk to someone who understands what it's like being alone.

"I was all alone in this store for months before Gerard and the gang showed up looking for shelter. They looked like a shit show, man. Covered in blood and dirt. There was a hoard after them and they seemed pretty nice. I put blind faith in people a lot. But, I helped them take the shufflers out and they offered to leave but, I asked them to stay. Being alone can drive you mad." She said flipping to a new page before starting again.

"I know what it feels like to be lonely. It sucks." I said finishing up the last details in my drawing before holding it out to look at it. I blushed at who I had put down and quickly flipped it to a new page.

"It really does."

[baronessblixen]

Don’t Resent Me

This is the sequel to Forgive me, which was written for the forgiveness challenge. You have to read that first cause it picks up right where that one ended. I’m not sure it *really* fits with this week’s resentment challenge, but let’s say it does. Also, I used one of the prompts from my inbox for this:

@ladymegg asked for: 43. “I swear to god if you touch me...” This is probably not quite what you imagined? I’m so sorry!

Now on with the actual story which got so long you’re getting a read more.

The woman, William's new mother, clings to the boy she considers her son. When her arms tighten around him instinctively, Will starts to squirm. Mulder wants to see it as a sign that Will recognizes him, which is silly, or Scully, which seems likely; but in the end, he doesn't know. Mulder has to stop himself from sprinting over there and grabbing his son out of the woman's clutch. This is his son, he thinks, but this woman, this Mrs. Van de Kamp, she loves the child, too. And, as much as even the thought burns him, Will must love her as well. Mulder glances at Scully, quickly, before he turns away again. Her face is pale, ashen almost, and fixated on their son. Both her hands are on the car door; she's ready to run away, to flee. Leave their son here and never talk about it ever again. They're good at that, after all. He's brought her here without any warning; he couldn't have told her, he reasons, because she would never have come had she known. When her knuckles turn white from grabbing the door, Mulder winces and averts his eyes. Forgive me, he thinks again; his forever mantra now. Maybe one day she will. Maybe one day his son will as well.

The thing is that Mulder doesn't know if he can do this without her. He knows he doesn't want to. What he's not sure about, though, is whether or not he'd do it anyway.

"What do you want from me? This is my son. Mine." Will squeaks loudly, still kicking his tiny legs. Scully makes a sound Mulder has never heard before. It carries a hurt that cuts right through him. He knows that if he turns to her now they'll leave here, without their son, with more wounds than either of them could ever heal. So he keeps his eyes on the other woman; the other mother.

"Not according to the law, Mrs. Van de Kamp." She gasps when Mulder speaks her name. What she doesn't know is that Mulder knows everything about her and her husband. Too many years in the shadows, a plaything for a global conspiracy and here he is, using the same methods to right a wrong.

"How do you know my name? Leave us alone. Please. This is my son."

"He's my son, Mrs. Van de Kamp. I never signed my consent and I know your last court date is next week."

"No." She cries, tears falling into the boy's hair; when Will was born, his soft tuft of hair was reddish and the softest thing Mulder had ever touched. He wonders what it feels like now that it's longer, a bit darker. There's a bit more of himself in the boy, but if he's honest he only sees Scully in the cherubic face. Startled by the wet drops on his head, Will stares up at the woman he has come to know as his mother, his eyes big and blue. Scully's eyes, of course. Mulder reminds himself that he's doing the right thing. Their son, their miracle, should be with them.

"Mulder…," Scully's voice scratches at his resolve; he's not going to look at her. Not until he's holding their son. Not until he can give her something back; they've lost so much and they're not losing this. "Let's… we should… go. Let's go." Scully's voice is no more than a whisper that the soft Wyoming air carries away.

"Don't take him. Please, Mr…. don't do this. He's our little miracle," Scully's wrenched sob gives her pause, "We love him. He's ours. He's my baby boy. What gives you the right?" She spits at him. Nothing gives him the right. Guilt, he thinks. Justice, he wonders.

Love.

"I understand, Mrs. Van de Kamp… I know you love him, but… he's ours."

"No, he's not. She gave him up! She gave him up!" Scully jiggles the car door; it won't open. Mulder feels the weight of the keys in his pocket. He doesn't even remember locking it up.  

"She didn't have a choice. Now we do. We can take care of him." Mulder hears the rattle of the car door and Scully's desperate fight. It reminds him that this is a lie. He has no idea if they can take care of him. All they have is this car and a suitcase full of guilt, resentment and fear.

"You should have thought about that before you gave him away." Will's whimpering intensifies and his small arms reach out. Not to him, no. He's reaching for Scully, who is not looking at her son, but still trying to get into the car.

"Look, Mrs. Van de Kamp, William wants-"

"Michael. His name is Michael. You got the wrong house, Mr. This is my baby. This is Michael. Right, Mikey? My baby?" But the boy doesn't react to the name.

"What is going on here?" The screen door gently flaps open to reveal what Mulder presumes is Mr. Van de Kamp. He's never seen a picture. The man puts his hands on his wife's shoulders and Will looks up at him briefly.

"He wants our son."

"My son." Mulder reminds her.

"Excuse me, Mr… but this is our son. We're in the middle of finalizing the adoption process."

"That's why I'm here. I'm the boy's father and I never gave my consent. My… his mother… it wasn't supposed to happen like this." In all of this, his great plan to get William back, Mulder hardly ever thought about these two people. William's new parents. His thoughts revolved around Scully, himself and the boy. He should be happy that their son was played in such a protected, loving environment. But he isn't. When Skinner, not Scully, told him about William's fate, part of him had been relieved. He's safe. No matter what happened now, to him and to Scully, their son would be safe. But it didn't last. Guilt burnt him every time he looked into Scully's eyes, piercing blue and full of pain. He was taking her away from what is left of her family, from the life she knows. He was always just taking and destroying. This time he needs to do something right. Even if Scully resents him for it.

“They told us there was no father. No one else.”

“I’m on his birth certificate.” Scully’s shy smile, his own lips quivering with emotion, as she handed him the document is carved into his memory.

“No, you’re not.” Mrs. Van den Kamp hisses. Mulder almost asks Scully if she took his name off, but she is not there, not really. She’s standing there clinging to the car door, her eyes empty, her mouth open; frozen in place.

“Actually…” Mr. Van de Kamp clears his throat. His eyes land on Mulder and narrow. “I didn’t want to… I didn’t want you to worry. You were so scared we were going to lose him again and so I… didn’t want to tell you. They told me that a father was listed.”

“No.” Her voice breaks as tears stream down her face. It’s not a conscious choice when Mulder takes a step forward. Mrs. Van de Kamp screams, startling William.

“Please hand him over.” Mulder feels the need to hold his son everywhere in his body. His arms tingle in anticipation, in memory.

“He is our son! We will fight this!” Her voice is screeching and scaring Will. In her desperation she barely notices that her husband entangles her hands from the baby. In a quick movement, Mr. Van de Kamp takes the few squeaking stairs with Will on his hip.

“Take him,” he spits loudly, “It never felt right.” He finishes quietly, softly so that his wife can't hear him. On the porch Mrs. Van de Kamp is on her knees, screaming and crying. Mulder takes his son, revels in the boy’s weight, and immediately takes a step back. He’s never going to let go of him again. He can’t help but watch Mr. Van de Kamp walk towards his wife, his life in shambles, and all he can think is forgive me, please.

Will, as if knowing who Mulder is, doesn’t even fuss. His small hand grabs at his shirt and holds it tightly for a moment until he sees Scully. His arms stretch out as far as they go. He makes baby noises, sounding happy and exciting. But Scully doesn’t react.

“Scully? Hey, Scully. I need you to take the baby so I can drive.” He wants to get away as soon as possible.

“Scully, come on. Look at Will. He just wants his… he wants you.” Her eyes, so cold, meet his for the shortest moment before she opens her arms. He puts Will there and he expects tears, a whirlwind of emotions; anything. Scully barely looks at their son, holds him at arm’s length, as if he were a doll, just a figment of Mulder's vast imagination.

Mulder unlocks the car and opens the door so that Scully and Will can get it. He sprints to his side, stealing a last look at the remnants of the family he just broke up. Forgive me, he whispers, before he gets into the car and drives off.

Staring the car, Mulder listens to Will babbling happily in Scully’s arms. He seems to tell her everything he’s experienced these last few months without her. Scully’s arms tighten around the boy when Mulder maneuvers the car over the gravel path, hitting a few tough spots. They’ll need a car seat. They’ll need so many things. Mulder glances at his son. He knows nothing about him. What food he likes, if he’s allergic to anything. They have no clothes for the boy or toys.

“I guess we’ll need supplies. Huh?” Scully stays quiet.

“Scully, I know you’re-“

“No, Mulder, you don’t know. You don’t know anything.”

*

They stop at a Walmart where Scully hauls several things into the cart and Mulder feels like everyone is watching them. He holds William, who despite not knowing him, seems to like him enough to stay quiet. At least that way they don’t look like kidnappers. And as much as Mulder wanted this and justified this, he’s beginning to understand that this is exactly what they are. What he is, anyway. He’s afraid that if he turns around, Scully will run. Leave him alone or worse: turn him in. One year, he thinks, and his trust in her is nothing but a chip on a cherished cup.

“We need clothes for him. And diapers.” Mulder stares at the different sizes displayed before him. Then at his son, who grins back. A Scully grin that distracts Mulder from his task and the gloom surrounding them.

Scully, without a word, without having to check, grabs a few packages and puts them in the cart. He follows the clickety-clack of her heels into the clothing section.

“Should we have him model for us?” No comment and no reaction as Scully rummages around the small collection and picks several tiny outfits.

“Is that all we need?” He dimly remembers a similar cart a lifetime ago. He can still hear Scully’s giggle when he presented her with a very tiny Knicks shirt that one, and only, time they found themselves shopping together for their baby. His face still shadowed by his ordeal, his mind momentarily quieted by the beauty bestowed on him against all odds.

“For now.” Her cold voice jolts him back to this new reality. She takes William from him, conscious not to touch Mulder in the process, and lets him steer the cart. You’re paying for all of this, she is telling him without any words. Mulder knew he would be.

They check in as a family for the first time. The receptionist smiles at Will, who buries his head into Scully's neck, shyly. Mulder hopes she doesn't see Scully startle.

"If you need anything for the baby just give me a call." The receptionist lets them know and Mulder nods absent-mindedly. His hand reaches out to settle on Scully's back, his spot, but she moves away from him, leading the way instead. He just follows.

It's a strange scene of twisted domesticity when Scully feeds William while Mulder tries to get up the cheap travel crib. The one they bought for him back home, back when everything still seemed right, came assembled. I'd rather pay the extra fee, Scully had told him with a coy smile, than have to worry about your hurting yourself. He'd kissed her then, his hand on her protruding stomach. Now he huffs, trying to rip the snapshot up in his mind. That, however, is not how his mind works.

To distract himself, Mulder steps away to look at what he's accomplished. The crib is up and it looks sturdy enough for a child. All Mulder can do is hope. He turns to ask Scully to check it out, but when he sees her, he stops. There she is, her back to him, holding Will. She's gently humming and Mulder is not sure she even realizes it. His son's face is against her shoulder, fighting to keep his eyes open. They land on Mulder for a short moment, unseeing yet trusting, before exhaustion defeats the small boy and takes him away into a land that Mulder prays is full of happy dreams.

"The crib is ready." Mulder whispers when he and Scully are finally face to face. Her eyes are wet with tears spurred on by happiness, or anger. Right now he can't tell. He offers to take Will from her, but she ignores him, and puts him down herself. The crib holds, much to Mulder's relief. The baby, however, starts whimpering and Mulder stares at Scully, looking for a clue. She doesn't give him one. Her arms are tightly swung around herself, hugging herself, as if she's cold.

"Scully, should we?" Mulder has never been a father. He's never taken care of a baby before, not like this, and if he ever thought he could do this without Scully by his side, he must have been in denial. Scully turns away from him, starts undressing; it's as if she's not hearing the child, not seeing him. Will cries out loudly and Mulder doesn't know if it's wrong or right; if there's ever a right or wrong in anything. He picks up his son, cradles him close and the boy relaxes immediately. Will sighs against his shoulder, sleep already tugging at his small body again.

There's no right, no wrong and so Mulder takes the baby and puts him down on the bed right between himself and Scully. This time Will doesn't fuss. His eyes are closed tightly while his lips suck at the air, search, before they finally settle down. Mulder watches in amazement; he's only done this once before and now he knows he'll do it for as long as he walks this, or any other, earth. His hand reaches out by instinct, just like Will's mouth searched for something to latch onto, to touch Scully. If he can't share this with her, then it's only worth half of it. If even that.

"I swear to god if you touch me…" Her ice cold voice makes him stop; his hand hovers above her hip and he can still feel the heat emanating from her. Slowly, he withdraws and puts his on Will's leg instead.

"Scully, I don't know what to say. I knew that if I told you what I wanted to do… you would have tried to stop me." Her eyes wander from him to William in turns. They never stay long, always in motion; trying to run away.

"I can spend the rest of my life telling you that I'm sorry. I am, Scully. Not for taking William back, never that. You know he belongs with us. We can keep him safe. I know we can."

"You resented me for giving him up. You'll always resent me for that." The ice in her voice thawed, nothing but tears are left. His hand itches with the need to touch her, but he knows better.

"No, Scully. I resented myself for leaving you and William. I would have resented myself for the rest of my life – our life."

"I made you leave to keep you safe, to keep… all of us safe."

"Say his name, Scully."

"What?"

"Say his name. You can barely look at him. It's William. He's with us and I'm gonna make damn sure it stays this way forever."

"Mulder…"

"Come on, Scully."

"You have no right to do this, Mulder. I gave him up to keep him safe. This life – this is no life for a child. You took him away from his family, they-"

"We're his family, Scully. He was with them what? Two months? Three? We're his family."

"You've been with him three days, Mulder. You had no right! How did you even know where to find him? No one was supposed to find him!"

"Shhhh." Mulder points at the baby sleeping between them.

"Fuck you, Mulder. This isn't fair. None of it." Sculls bolts from the bed and for a moment he is convinced she's running out into the cold even clad in a tank top and an old pair of boxer shorts that must have been his once. Making sure that William is safe on the bed, Mulder joins her. Standing behind her, her face towards the small, dirty window, he makes sure not to touch her. Mulder knows he's close enough so that she can feel him. He hopes it's enough; he hopes it's not too much.

"I know it isn't fair, Scully. I know. But don't you think we deserve this? Well, maybe I don't. I may not deserve this, Scully, but you do. You do deserve to see your son grow up. You deserve to be his mother. And maybe it's selfish, hell, I know it is, but I want this for us. Whenever I couldn't sleep, I imagined you and Will at home. I knew that… no matter how lonely I was, you had a part of me with you always. That's what kept me going. That's what always kept me going."

"We can't raise him on the run, Mulder. I didn't want this for him. What could we possibly give him? What if we can't keep him safe?" At least she's talking to him, he thinks. She may not be able to look at him yet, may not be able to forgive him ever, but she's talking.

"What can we give him? Love, Scully. As someone who's been loved by you, how can I deny my son this? He might not have been safe there either, Scully, and what would that have done to you? Hm? I only asked a favor and that was all it took to find him." A sigh escapes her lips and then she's there; her back presses into his chest as a peace offering. His arms carefully come around and rest on her flat stomach. They've done this before, he remembers, when Scully was pregnant. The baby that kicked against his hands back then, when he promised that he'd do everything to keep both of them safe, is now sleeping peacefully in their bed. A true miracle.

"What if they… his… William's, uhm, other parents, the Van de Kamp's? What if they come and look for us, too? Try to get him back?" Her finally uttering their son's name, after all this time, sounds like music in his ears that runs right through his soul and into his heart.

"They have no case, Scully, and I know – I feel – like… they know this is right. Trust me on this?" Mulder listens to her even breathing, tries to decipher her stillness in the absence of words.

"You once said that you didn't believe me when I first told you about Samantha," he begins, "and you followed me anyway, Scully, because you trusted me. Just like I always trusted you. Can you do it now, please? Trust us, Scully. You said you were fighting for us. William is part of that us and he belongs here with you and me, Scully. How could we ever have lived with each other, with the guilt of not knowing, of not taking care of him ourselves? So Scully… all I'm asking is… can you trust me?" Finally, she turns in his arms, her face tilted up.

"I do trust you, I want to, but-" Mulder puts his finger on her lips and she quiets immediately; this is enough. This one concession is enough. For now. It's not I forgive you. It's not a this is going to work. It's never been that with the two of them. Mulder is aware of her lips under his finger, feels her gently kissing his skin, and now he knows it's right.

This is their new beginning.