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moodymelanist · 1 year ago

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What Happens in Vegas

Happy @cassianappreciationweek everyone! I had a lot of fun with this one and major shoutout to @c-e-d-dreamer for giving me the plot idea for this ❤️‍🔥

Summary: Cassian and the guys spend a weekend in Vegas to celebrate his upcoming marriage to Nesta.

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Cassian

When Cassian had agreed to let Rhys take him to Vegas for an all-expenses-paid bachelor party weekend, he’d been so excited that he hadn’t been able to stop talking about it for days.

He just hadn’t factored in how much he’d miss Nesta.

“You have everything?” Nesta asked, leaning against one of their living room walls as Cassian wheeled his suitcase to the door.

“I think so,” Cassian answered. He did a last-minute check that he had his phone, wallet, and keys, along with a light jacket for the flight. “If not, I can just buy it there.”

“Assuming you’ll be sober enough to think straight,” she teased, following him as he walked to the front of their home.

When they’d been throwing around bachelor party ideas, originally Cassian had wanted to do something chill. He wasn’t into the stereotypical strip club party — especially not when he had Nesta at home waiting for him — but Rhys, Azriel, and Lucien had managed to convince him to visit Vegas for the weekend. Cassian wasn’t a huge gambler, but there were lots of things to do other than throw money away at the casinos, and he’d always wanted to go to Vegas. So he’d agreed to make the trip, and now the moment of truth had finally come.

Cassian wheeled his suitcase outside to see that Rhys’ familiar black Range Rover was sitting in front of their townhouse, the trunk already open for Cassian to add his suitcase to the mix. He waved toward the car and turned back to Nesta so he could give her a proper goodbye, leaning in and pulling her into his arms in a fierce hug. He buried his face into the side of her neck and inhaled the familiar smell of her perfume while she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into his embrace. Maybe he was being a little dramatic, but who cared? She was the love of his life. He could be a little dramatic if he wanted.

“I’ll miss you,” Cassian murmured. He pulled back from the hug to fix her with what was probably one of the dopiest looks he’d given her yet. “So much.”

“I’ll miss you too, Cassian,” Nesta replied, the hint of a pleased smile making the corners of her lips turn up. “Have a safe flight.”

“Let’s go, lover boy!” Rhys called out from the car. He honked the horn like an asshole and Cassian whirled around to flip him off. “We’re gonna be late for our flight!”

“Shut the fuck up, Rhys, I’m saying goodbye to my wife,” Cassian yelled back. “Who I love very much!”

Nesta laughed, pulling Cassian’s attention back to her. “I love you too. Now hurry up, I have to keep packing for my trip.”

Nesta had decided on taking a beach trip for her bachelorette party, her and the rest of the ladies deciding to drive down to Myrtle Beach to spend a few days relaxing by the water. She and her sisters – along with Emerie and Gwyn – had rented out a beach house for a long weekend, and Cassian couldn’t wait to see just how many freckles would appear on her skin.

“Have fun at the beach,” Cassian said. He leaned in for a goodbye kiss and forced himself to eventually pull away, but not before he cupped her face and ran his thumb across her cheek. “Bye, sweetheart.”

“Bye, baby,” Nesta said back. She waited until he’d put his suitcase in the trunk and got in the car before she turned around and went back inside, though not before blowing him one last kiss.

God, he loved her.

“Fucking finally,” Rhys muttered once Cassian had strapped himself into the passenger seat. “You’re leaving for a few days, not going off to war.”

“I’m not going to apologize for giving the love of my life the goodbye she deserves,” Cassian said primly.

“Cut him a break, you know he can’t help it,” Azriel chimed in from the backseat. “We might as well get used to it. He’ll probably call her every night for a bedtime story.”

“If you got the kind of bedtime stories I did, you’d be calling every night too,” Cassian fired back with a smirk.

“I don’t think any of us want that level of trauma,” Lucien teased, pulling

Thankfully, once they made it to the airport, the rest of their traveling went smoothly. They made it through security without any problems, their flight left on time, and Cassian even got to take a nap in first class, all while he was texting Nesta about how nice it was to have real legroom. By the time they touched down in Vegas and made it to their hotel, Cassian was more than ready to walk around and see all that Vegas had to offer.

Rhys had gotten them some super fancy suite that had a loft and room for everyone to have their own bed, and Cassian could hardly believe the view when they got upstairs. They were so high up that all of Vegas was spread out below them, and Cassian couldn’t stop gaping at how expensive everything must have been.

“Rhys—” Cassian tried to thank him once Rhys had emerged from putting his stuff away, but he only waved Cassian off.

“Don’t even think about it,” Rhys replied. “Come on, we have reservations in an hour.”

Cassian obliged and went to get changed, the four of them eventually making their way downstairs to the hotel’s restaurant. The food was amazing and the service was impeccable, and by the time they made it back upstairs, Cassian’s stomach was pleasantly full and was more than ready to pass out.

“You’re getting an hour, and then we’re going back downstairs,” Azriel told him, waggling his phone at Cassian to show him the timer. “Chop chop.”

“Fine,” Cassian huffed. Once he reached his bed, he kicked off his shoes and stripped down to his underwear before flopping on top of the comforter. “Good night.”

When Lucien came to shake him awake, Cassian was abruptly pulled out of his dream and nearly rolled off the bed. “Morning, sleeping beauty.”

“Fuck off,” Cassian replied good-naturedly.

Lucien just laughed and left him to get dressed, and once Cassian was presentable, he left the warmth of his bed to find Rhys pouring out a round of shots.

“Look who’s finally back to the land of the living,” Rhys said as he put the cap back on. “Nice of you to join us, lover boy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cassian said back, flipping him off. “What are we drinking?”

“Tequila,” Azriel answered. He pushed everyone’s shots toward them before moving a little bowl of limes to where the glasses had just been. “If you want one.”

Cassian took one and turned toward Rhys expectantly, since he tended to lead their toasts. His brother was already holding his little shot glass up in the air and waited for the rest of them to follow suit before saying, “To Cassian, who I still can’t believe managed to convince Nesta Archeron to let him follow her around for the rest of their lives. Salud.”

“Trust me, I can’t believe it either,” Cassian joked once he’d tossed back his shot and sucked down on his lime. He’d hardly believed it when she’d said yes to a date, let alone to spending the rest of their lives together, but he wasn’t about to question any of it. “Hit me again.”

By the time they all made it downstairs, they were three shots down and ready for more. Cassian had never really been much of a gambler, but it was cool to see so many different games spread out across the casino floor. There were slot machines and card tables and people cheering or booing depending on how things were going, and Cassian was feeling just enough of a buzz for it to all be exciting.

Of course, it didn’t take long for the buzz to turn into being full-on drunk. Lucien got him one of those enormous daiquiris while Azriel showed him how to use the slot machines, and Cassian felt like a kid in a candy store. He wanted to try everything at least once no matter how much money he won or lost, and his friends were more than willing to encourage him. There were also plenty of women willing to help him out, but Cassian was far too quick to mention Nesta for any of them to get too close.

“You want another one?” Azriel asked once Cassian hit the bottom of his daiquiri. It was so loud inside the casino that it was almost hard to hear him.

“Yeeeeeeeah,” Cassian answered, grinning widely for no reason. Well, not for no reason. He had the greatest friends in the world. “I love you so much, man.”

“Likewise,” Azriel replied. He looked only a little alarmed when Cassian leaned over and threw his arm around him.

“Nooooo,” Cassian whined. “You gotta say it back. Stop being so repressed. And depressed.”

“Yeah, Az,” Rhys chimed in, laughing. “Tell the man you love him, for God’s sake. It’s not healthy to keep everything inside.”

“He knows that I care about him,” Azriel responded with a heavy sigh.

“Just say it,” Lucien told him. “He’s not gonna let it go until you do.”

“Fine.” Azriel turned to Cassian and awkwardly patted the side of his face. “I love you too, Cassian. Now can you please let go of me?”

“Yes,” Cassian replied with a big grin. “You’re the best.”

Azriel patted him again before extracting himself from Cassian’s grip, muttering about how he preferred sober Cassian before he and Lucien headed off to the bar.

“You’re a mess,” Rhys told Cassian fondly.

“I’m your mess,” Cassian replied just as happily. “Well. Mostly Nesta’s mess now.”

“And isn’t that something,” Rhys said, chuckling. He let Cassian lead him over to another slot machine and made a disappointed noise when he didn’t win. “Let me try.”

Halfway through the game, Rhys frowned and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Cassian saw Feyre’s photo lighting up the screen and he couldn’t help but pout. He wished Nesta would call him.

“I’m gonna talk to Feyre for a few minutes,” Rhys said, leaning over to poke his finger into Cassian’s chest. “ You better stay right here. Do you hear me?”

“Yup,” Cassian said back. “Stay right here. Got it.”

Naturally, the moment Rhys walked away to call Feyre, Cassian couldn’t help but wander a little too. He didn’t go far, he just wanted to go somewhere that wasn’t as loud as their corner of the casino was, but that was basically impossible. So he just ended up at one of the smaller bars, sighing as he fiddled with his phone and wished Nesta’s photo would show up on his screen.

Cassian wished Nesta was here. He’d wanted her here with him the entire time, of course, but he was really feeling her absence now.

Maybe he should call her.

Yeah. Yeah. He really wanted to hear her voice, and tell her how much he loved her in case she forgot, which she definitely wouldn’t, but it never hurt. Just in case. And if she wouldn’t call him, then he could always call her to remind her. The perfect compromise.

He dialed her number from memory just because he could, and pressed the phone to his ear while the line rang. He hoped she picked up because he really missed her and wanted to talk to her about Vegas and hear her laugh. God, she had the best laugh. The best everything, really. She was so perfect it was almost too much to handle. But he could manage. For her, he’d do anything.

Nesta didn’t answer, which — Cassian was not going to cry about it. He was not. She was having a good time with her friends, and between the time difference and her being on a well-deserved girls' trip, no way she was picking up the phone right now.

Still. He could be a little sad about it.

“Hi, you’ve reached Nesta Archeron,” came the start of her very professional voicemail. “I’m not available right now, but please leave a message and I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”

“After the tone, please record your message,” the automated voice told him. Cassian blinked away the not-tears in his eyes as he waited for it to finish. “When you are finished recording, you may hang up or press one for more options.”

“Heeeeeeey, sweetheart,” Cassian began once he heard the beep. “Nes. Nesta. Babe. I don’t wanna be annoying or anything. But. I miss you. So, so much. I know it hasn’t even been a day but I wish you were here. I lost all the money Rhys gave me and I wanted to buy you something good but you’re not even here to make me feel better and I hate it.”

Wait. Fuck. It wasn’t her job to make him feel better.

“Not that that’s your responsibility because I am a grown man.” He made sure to stress those last two words so she knew he was being serious. “I just. I’m having fun, but I know I’d have a lot more fun if you were here too.”

He took a deep breath before continuing. “Not that I’m not having fun. I hope you’re having fun. You work so fucking hard and you never do nice things for yourself even though you deserve it. You deserve all the nice things because you are the best fucking person I know.”

God, he was so drunk. Nesta was definitely going to laugh at him about this later, but then she’d kiss him and it would all be worth the embarrassment.

“I just love you so much,” Cassian said, a distressing sniffle making its way out of his nose before he pulled himself together. “Okay. Okay. I’m okay. I’ll see you when you get back. I love you, sweetheart. Okay. Bye.”

Cassian forced himself to hang up and then released a heavy sigh, putting his head in his hands for a few moments to collect himself.

“You alright, man?” someone asked.

Cassian pulled his head out of his hands to see the bartender giving him a semi-worried look. “Yeah. I just really miss my fiancée.”

“Bachelor weekend?” the bartender asked with a sigh. At Cassian’s nod, he added, “You should be enjoying yourself.”

“I am,” Cassian insisted. “I just. Really miss her.”

The guy’s name tag read Kallon, and he looked distinctly unimpressed. “Aren’t you going to see her in a few days?”

“Yeah,” Cassian answered slowly. “So?”

“So?” Kallon repeated. “So? So you’ll see her in a few days, man. You gotta get it together.”

“I’m trying,” Cassian told him.

“Maybe you could order a drink and that would make you feel better,” Kallon suggested pointedly. “Or maybe you could go mope upstairs in your room?”

“Trust me, you’d be moping too if you had a fiancée like mine and she wasn’t here,” Cassian promised.

“Oh yeah?” Kallon replied, sounding extremely skeptical. “Sure, buddy.”

“I’m serious.”

“I’m sure you are, man.”

“I’ll prove it to you.”

“You really don’t need to do that.”

“No, I think I do.” Cassian fumbled with his phone before pulling up some of their engagement photos, his heart squeezing all over again at how gorgeous Nesta looked in them. “Here.”

“Huh,” Kallon said, surprised. “Would you look at that.”

“See?” Cassian said back smugly. He accepted his phone and slid it into his pocket so he wouldn’t lose it. “I told you so.”

“Yeah, alright,” Kallon replied. “You can have that one. She’s beautiful. You two look great together. Now are you gonna order a drink, or are you gonna keep moping?”

Cassian was just about to pull up some more photos and keep being snarky when he felt someone’s hand roughly spin the back of his barstool around. “What the fuck — Rhys?”

“Where the fuck have you been,” Rhys hissed into his ear.

“Right… here?” Cassian replied, confused. He hadn’t gone that far. “I just went to sit down somewhere else.”

“We have been looking for you for the last fucking half hour,” Rhys continued. “We thought we lost you!”

“How the fuck could you lose me? I’ve been here the whole time,” Cassian told him. He turned toward the bartender and made a flapping motion with his hands that he hoped got his point across. “Tell him!”

“It’s true,” Kallon replied resignedly. “He’s been here the whole time, moping about missing his fiancée and not ordering anything .”

“My gorgeous fiancée,” Cassian corrected automatically.

“Yeah, yeah, the sun shines out of Nesta’s ass, we get it,” Azriel chimed in, sounding exhausted.

“Let’s just be grateful nobody had to tell her we lost him,” Lucien muttered. He exchanged a relieved look with Rhys and Azriel before turning his attention back to Cassian, pulling one of Cassian’s arms over his shoulder so he could bodily haul Cassian out of his seat. “Come on, lover boy. That’s enough shenanigans for one night.”

#cassianappreciationweek2023 #Cassian #nesta archeron #Nessian #Rhysand #azriel #lucien vanserra #moodymelanistwrites #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

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henerypaul-blog · 1 month ago

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Exploring Unique Houses for Sale in the USA and United Real Estate Opportunities

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christophersfine · 7 months ago

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Making Diamonds Sparkle: Beyond the Cut Grade

Making diamonds sparkle involves several factors beyond the cut grade. While the cut is crucial for maximizing a diamond's brilliance, other aspects also play significant roles. What comes to mind when you think about heirloom jewelry?

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Christopher’s Fine Jewelry has made a guide to help us understand how the different cuts change the way a diamond looks. We'll explore how a diamond shines and some things that aren't so obvious that can really make a diamond's shine stand out.

The Secret Ingredient: Optical Precision

Think of a diamond's shape like the base of a house. It's the main part, but the special touches – the fine work done by hand – are what really make it shine. That's what we call optical precision.

Optical precision is all about how well each little flat part of the diamond is made – its shape, size, and how it lines up with the others. The better the cut, the more light stays in the diamond, making it sparkle more.

But here's the thing: making a diamond with great optical precision is hard work and takes a lot of time, so these diamonds cost more. Even though regular "ideal cut" diamonds might look good on paper, they don't always have the same fine details.

Decoding the Light Performance: A Look beyond the Certificate

When you buy a diamond from our jewelry store in Myrtle Beach, SC, you get a grading report that analyzes its quality. But these reports typically don't consider optical precision. So, how do you know if a diamond has that extra sparkle factor?

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So, it boils down to.

By looking beyond the basics and considering optical precision, you can find a diamond that truly shines. Remember, a diamond's true beauty lies not just in its proportions, but also in the meticulous detail of its cut.

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#Engagement rings in Myrtle Beach SC #Jewelry store in Myrtle Beach SC #Watch repair in Myrtle Beach SC

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steele-soulmate · 1 year ago

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Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 392, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, blood, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage)

WORDS: 1133

Quilted puffer vest, in DARK EMERALD GREEN, size M

Cute winter hat, scarf, gloves set, in GREEN SNOWFLAKE PATTERN

Warm thermal underwear, in GREEN AND BLUE POLKA DOTTED PATTERN, size M

Cute Hiking Boots for Women, in BLACK COLOR, size 6 ½

Wool Socks in Cute Patterns, in GREEN STRIPES, size S/M

Moisturizing ChapStick, in VANILLA BEAN, size 3 pack

I Love SF Sunglasses, in RED HEART

Winter Sweater, in DARK GREEN ARGILE and BRIGHT TURUIOSE BLUE and PALE EMERALD GREEN and SOFT BLACK and DEEP ROYAL BLUE, size M

Fleece Lined Demin Jeans in SOFT BLACK, size S/M, QUANTITY 4

SPF Sunscreen for Sports, in 120 SPF

I nibbled at my lip as I browsed the Amazon wish list that Peter had made for me, titled HONEYMOON FOR MY SWEETHEART. He had carefully selected stylish and comfy articles of clothing for me to buy, choosing different hues of greens with bits of blues sprinkled in.

I scrolled to the bottom of the list and promptly turned bright pink at the sexy lingerie set that he had added in a soft sweet green color. I also added bright poppy turquoise colored lace to my shopping basket and then went to check out.

I checked out, turning to where Peter was doing his rehabilitating workouts with the babies as weights. Even now, he still couldn’t stand for long periods of time and was currently about to graduate from using a custom made cane tuned to his height and weight, but if there was one word to describe my husband’s work ethics, that word was determined.

He hadn’t said it out loud, but I could tell that he was itching to get back into shape so that he could protect his family from those intending to do harm onto us. While I was appreciative of his role as the family protector, I understood that he had been gravely injured and that he now needed to fully heal before he could honestly do anything else.

Peter had told me that Type O Negative was going to go on tour in November and that he wanted the entire family- myself, Baby Tommy, Daisy, Elizabeth, Elle, Katie and Jing- to accompany him. He had told me that the band manager was looking into hotels for the family to stay in while the band went on a six week tour of the east coast, to which my response had been that I would need to make arrangements for the girls to be homeschooled and for the house to be looked after in our absence.

The Ratajczyk family patriarch had told me that the band would be hitting up to five cities a week, and that by the end of the tour, Type O Negative would’ve visited thirty three cities. He had given me a rundown of where our stops would be. I was so excited- Salem, Boston, Philadelphia, Charleston, Baltimore, Savannah, Myrtle Beach…

“We are going to have so much fun,” I giggled the night before while we were curled up around each other. “Do you want me to call up Adam and ask him if the twins can come with?”

Peter’s face glowed with happiness as he tugged me to lay on top of his burly chest as he peppered my face with kisses.

“I love you.” KISS “I love you.” KISS “I love you.” KISS “I love you.” KISS “I love you.” KISS “I love you.” KISS “I love you.” KISS “I love you.” KISS

“I love you, my handsome silver daddy,” I giggled, cuddling into him as a late night infestation of bedbugs swarmed the bed. “Hihi kids.”

“Mamamamamama…” babbled Baby Tommy as he awkwardly crawled up to us before falling into my pillow and snuggling into the sleep aid. “Mamamamamama…”

“To what do we owe this late night visit to?” Peter rumbled as he opened his arms for the kids to come in and tuck themselves into his side.

“Little girl wouldn’t stop whining,” Elizabeth explained, tugging the adorable two year old girl and Elle into her side and rolling onto her back.

“Poor little girl,” Peter crooned, allowing her to crawl up onto his as well. “Is your baby anxiety make it hard for you to sleep?”

“Papa Pete,” mewled little girl as she settled down for sleep. “Papa Pete. Papa Pete. Papa Pete. Papa Pete. Papa Pete. Papa Pete. Papa Pete. Papa Pete.”

“Little girl’s baby PTSD will pass soon enough,” I told the family as I began to gently stroke her chubby leg.

“Oh!” Katie gasped, sitting up suddenly. “Before I forget…” She tore off out of the bedroom, leaving me and Peter to exchange glances. She returned about five minutes later, holding a neatly wrapped parcel, which she handed to her baby sister. “Happy birthday little girl, from Lizz Lizz and me!”

The already spoiled birthday girl happily tore into her present, unwrapping a little cloth dollie. Much like Baby Tommy’s mini me, it was carefully hand crafted in light brown cotton fabric for the skin, with dark red yarn for hair and a petite white diaper and bright pink t-shirt.

“Mee mee!” squealed little girl as she hugged the plush toy tight to her chest. “Mee mee!”

“Liddle gurl?” Baby Tommy asked, holding up his own well-loved plush toy. “Baabee Tom Tom? Liddle gurl? Baabee Tom Tom?”

I giggled as I watched the babies comparing their favorite toys before they settled down for bed, cooing as they held each other’s hands.

“Sweet babies,” I cooed, settling myself down for the night. “Goodnight my love.”

“Goodnight sweetheart,” he chuckled in a deep rumble.

“See you in the morning.” I settled my ear against his chest and drifted off to sleep listening to my favorite sound.

THUD THUMP

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carolinashomebuyers · 2 years ago

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ecodweeb · 7 years ago

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Training Wheels: 2017 Zero SR

After overcoming my fear of riding a motorcycle with John’s 2015 Zero, I decided it was time to get one of my very own.

Service Stats

In Service Date: 9/8/2017 In Service Mileage: 393 Out of Service Date: 8/16/2018 Out of Service Mileage: 6,518 Service Life: 11 months, 6,125 miles

The History & Story

We kicked off National Drive Electric Week 2017 with buying a new Zero motorcycle. Like the last one, it was the dealer demo unit and we got it as a discount. We also managed to cash in on the federal rebate for two/three wheel EVs. This is the bike that I’d make my second Myrtle Beach by EV road trip.

I had no major problems with this bike, aside from hitting the limitations of its design: on days above 80F the battery pack would heat up to above 120F and would refuse to charge.

This refusal to charge situation occurred for several reasons. One factor was that I was maxing out the payload for the motor, so it was always under a heavy load. Another factor was the lucite-sealed battery cells wrapped in a heat absorbing black metal case that is complete exposed to the sun. The two combined meant that you couldn’t do 200+ miles days from May to October.

The straw the broke the camel’s back was on August 12, 2018. It was a Sunday, overcast, 83F. I’d done my usual ride around Falls lake and ended at our Brunch spot. The bike Level 1 charged for less than 2 hours while we had lunch. Then I rode it -- on I-540, which is unusual for me but I was feeling fast ‘n furious today -- to my friend’s home in Durham for a pool party. I stopped at a Level 2 near his house for all of 10 minutes to go bump up my SOC so that I wouldn’t need to charge very long at his house. I get to his house and plug in, and the bike stopped charging within 2 hours of being plugged in. The bike was at 20% SOC - enough for me to get it home taking the slow backroads - and it was sitting at 120F after less than 120 miles ridden.

The following Monday I told Sev at Team PowerSports that I wanted to test ride their Energica floor model. I rode it on Wednesday, signed the paperwork, and picked the new bike up on Friday and never looked back.

#pastev #zero #zermotorcycles #motorcycle #zerosr #2017

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creatiview · 2 years ago

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purplesurveys · 2 years ago

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1606

Do you remember much from high school? Some snippets here and there, but it’s not like my memory is superpower-levelsof good. If anything, I know my old survey blog is still hanging around here and I told so much shit about high school in there, while I was actually in high school.

Where would you go for the ultimate honeymoon? I’d love to go traveling around West Asia and follow it up with a second leg in North Africa.

Can you access the roof of the building you live in? Well we have a rooftop, so yes.

Do you know anyone who has a strong accent that is hard to understand? Occasionally my clients will have regional higher-ups join our calls and they would have very thick accents that I’d sometimes struggle to understand, yes.

If you had to get a tattoo tomorrow, what would you get? Seven dots in the order of BTS’ mic colors. I also want to incorporate a 7 in there but I still don’t know how; might be something I ask help for from the tattoo artist.

What was the last podcast you listened to? Do you listen to it regularly? The last one I remember listening to is Dispatches From Myrtle Beach, which is a podcast by GMM’s Link and his dad. I loved the pilot a lot, but as I’m not a usual listener of any podcast I didn’t really catch up. My focus when listening is pretty shaky so podcasts and I have never really worked well together.

Are you more of an optimist or a pessimist, and why do you think this is? Optimist. I was a raging pessimist in the past and I’ve learned that always looking at the bad side of things has never helped me nor helped the situation get better. I like looking at things realistically if anything, but I’m never always like, “this is going to shit” or “I’m going to be so bad at this.”

When was the last time you moved house? That would be 15 years ago.

Have you ever held a gun? Did you fire it? I held some sort of practice gun once, at Athenna’s place. I still don’t know whether that was a real one or what.

Do you like simple questions or deep questions that make you think? You mean on these surveys? Simple ones. I go here for a distraction, so for the most part deep questions that would make me need to mull over my answers kinda defeats that purpose.

How long have you been using Bzoink? I’ve been checking it out since like ‘09, but never made an account since I primarily post surveys here. 14 years!

When was the last time you threw up? Why were you sick? Nausea from too much screentime. Work, as always.

Are you on a first-name basis with your boss? (or last boss if unemployed) Yep, honorifics are thrown out the window for the most part. It’s meant to make everyone comfortable with one another and confident to share ideas.

What brand is your laptop or computer? Apple.

Would you ever wear a bright orange shirt? I find it hard to imagine doing so, tbh.

What was the last thing you wrote in a word document? Probably December before we went on shutdown.

Who do you miss and what do you miss about them? My grandpa. I miss talking to him; he was an incredibly intelligent person. I’m mostly sad I was too young to fully appreciate the little factoids and anecdotes he would share – and also because I never did get to share a drink with him.

What were the best and worst costumes you've ever worn? Best would be dressing up as Sofie for one Halloween - it’s my favorite because it ended up being the most resourceful/cheapest and the most popular in my friend group lol. Worst would probably just be the generic princess/pirate costumes we’d buy last-minute at the department store.

Do you know anybody who is gay and married? Yes, a prof I had in college. Media law is what they taught.

What did you last take painkillers for? A headache from fluctuating temperatures all day.

Are there any hobbies you want to get back into? Reading. I already have two books lined up for me to read, which is a great start to 2023. I imagine I’d be getting into it more as I become closer with Kat (my cousin’s fiancée), who’s as big a bookworm as it gets.

Have you ever shared a home with a friend? I have not.

What's the craziest or weirdest place you've ever slept? The fucking parking lot at Metrowalk. What in the utter fuck was I thinking.

What did you have for lunch today and who made it? It’s 9:57 AM.

Do you believe in anything supernatural like ghosts or ghouls? No.

How many hours of sleep did you get last night? Around 5. Slept at 3, woke up at a little over 8 this morning.

Are you allergic to anything? How did you find out? Grass, apparently. And certain fabrics that I haven’t figured out yet because my rashes apper randomly, lmao.

What's your favourite Thai dish? Pad thai and green curry.

Do you have any alarms set? What time and what for? Yeah but I rarely set them on. It’s for waking up for work if I feel like I’ll have trouble waking up the next morning.

What are you going to do when this survey is over? Play with the dogs.

Have you ever been on a date with someone you met online? How was it? Nope.

What colour is the rug in your living area? Grey.

Do you call it a couch, sofa, lounge or something else entirely? I alternate between couch and sofa.

Who is your favourite character on Friends? Chandler. I’m most similar to Monica so I like her too.

When was the last time you used a pair of headphones and what for? My dad got a pair of headphones for the family raffle last Christmas and my sister and I gave it a quick try to make sure it works fine. Describe the temperature of the area you're in right now. It’s hot during the day but can be very cold at night.

Who was the last very physically attractive person you saw? This girl at church who turned out to be someone from my high school once I got to take a better look at her, lol.

Have you ever had teppanyaki? No, it doesn’t really appeal to me. This is why I could never count Japanese as a top fave cuisine of mine lol – I only ever really regularly eat sushi and sashimi, oh and ramen too. Not so much of the fuller rice/meat dishes they’ve got.

How long does it take you to get ready before you go somewhere? Around 30-45 minutes. I take longer now; I never know what to wear.

Do you find it difficult to get rid of material possessions? I will say that I’m a bit of a hoarder, yes. Not reality-TV levels of bad, but I do find it hard to get rid of things.

What sort of games do you like to play? Just easy Mario ones, man. I’m terrible at video games. GTA is fun too but I only ever use it for the open-world feature and eating at restaurants LOL and not actually doing the missions.

What was the last candy you ate? These toffee candies given to my mom as a Christmas gift - they taste exactly like Ferrero Rocher.

Have you ever been hit in the face? What's the story? Yeah, by my brother and is the reason I do not talk to him. Family argument got out of hand, and he, the youngest, was the first to raise a hand.

Do you know anyone who is deaf? I used to know somebody. My great-grandma’s former househelp was mute and deaf.

Name one thing on your bucket list. Going to Korea!

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wh47-7h3-un1v3r53-15-m4d3-0f · 1 year ago

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You know what? WHY NOT

Southern Strawhat Headcanons (Brought to you by a Southerner)

Starting off, I AM CLAIMING ROBIN FOR SOUTH CAROLINA! There is so much historical shit in Charleston alone that she would be having a ball. She'd be one of those nice ladies that hang around the battery offering up neat facts. Or horrifying ones. It depends on your opinion and how strong your stomach is. She's also the person that tells Nami and Luffy about the Market (yes capitalized) and monitors them while they go through. (She also mentions the sweetshop on the corner and watches Luffy tear through it like nothing.)

I will give you Appalachian Chopper. In fact, i raise you Appalachian cryptid Chopper. The amount of shit that lives in those damn hills, he'd be living happy as a deer person because NOBODY WOULD BE QUESTIONING SHIT! The amount of times he has to tell Zoro NOT TO WALK OFF THE DAMN PATH if the Strawhats ever go back to visit Kureha or something is astronomical. Unfortunately for him, Zoro smells booze (reds making SOMETHING in their bathtubs, i can't guarantee it's drinkable) and he is going to drink until he can't anymore. If that's even possible.

For anyone who doesn't know, the Waffle House Index is how we Southerners tell how fucked we are in natural disasters. Franky, Florida man that he is (because you cannot tell me 'Ex-Gang member jerryrigs himself high tech prosthetics with GUNS in them' doesn't sound like a Florida man headline) IGNORES THE DAMN INDEX and his house, because he built that shit to LAST, withstands the hurricane anyway by spite and force of engineering. Also, speaking of Waffle House, any that are near Luffy's location immediately close. Luffy is considered more dangerous than most hurricanes to a Waffle House. A feat that even HURRICANE HUGO failed to accomplish.

Zoro is originally from backwoods Alabama, got on a bus, and just didn't get off. Not even he remembers the name of the town he's from, because it didn't have one, nor the way to get back. He can however 1. Wrestle an alligator 2. Whine about weapons laws and 3. Argue with Sanji about barbecue. (Alabama white sauce is a CRIME). Speaking of Sanji, Cajun Sanji is a brilliant idea and i can already hear the schmooze coming out of his mouth. He refuses to make, or buy, daiquiris for Zoro and the swordman is upset because ALCOHOL.

Usopp...surprisingly doesn't give Southern vibes to me. He probably moved down to Mississippi when he was a kid but he was NOT born here. I'll give him Virginia at best (and Virginia's already on thin ice). He thinks because he's closer to the capital that it makes him cooler, and it does to Chopper, but the others just call him a Yank and he shuts up real quick.

MIAMI NAMI AND TENNESSEE BROOK! I won't hear otherwise. The amount of men Nami could scam on just the beaches. Plus, a lot of rich people live in Miami. So many people to con, so little time. And she's got an excuse to wear that flimsy bikini top, it MELTS in Miami. Brook is just chilling in Nashville. He's got no where to go but up, but old southern people don't die unless they DECIDE to go. The Strawhats picked him up and suddenly all his aches are gone unless it's convenient for him to have them.

That's about all i got. Unless it's not just the Strawhats. Because i have WORDS about how many one piece characters i could see in Myrtle Beach and not question their presence WHATSOEVER.

One piece AU where east blue is the American south

Florida backwoods trio ASL (Brazilian Luffy, Native Ace, Ashkenazi Sabo- His family are New York Jewish Snowbirds)

Ussop is from the Mississippi Delta and keeps lying about how he made a deal with the devil at the crossroads for his sniping skills

Nami is also from Florida but a more touristy/beachy area She hustles frat bros on spring break for money

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dhbbuyshouses · 4 years ago

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myrtlebeachhomebuyers · 2 years ago

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ibuyshousesmyrtlebeach · 4 years ago

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foreveralwaysanauthor · 2 years ago

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A Sense of Closure

December 17, 2022

Prompt - Home

Notes - Part two, baby! This part was originally something I planned on using as either the third part or a one-shot, but I changed the plot around to fit as a middle piece and it worked out pretty well. If you'd like to see the original plot, I would love to write it out after I'm done with my next project.

Despite the many flights that Miles had been on going to and from New Hampshire where his nerves stayed minimal and he could get by with listening to music or watching a movie, the nearly three-hour flight to his hometown of Myrtle Beach had Miles worrying that he’d be scrubbing his lunch out of the expensively upholstered seats. Carrie’s words or reassurance did little to quell the rollercoaster of emotions inside of him, but the grip she had on his hand and the gentle circles she pressed into his skin distracted him at least a little. Every now and then, he would spare a glance at his siblings and their friend, watching the trio gab on and on about something he couldn’t hear over the plane’s engines and the thumping of his heart in his ears. As soon as the pilot announced they were landing in Myrtle Beach, time seemed to slow down for Miles. Why had he agreed to join them? Why did he think he would be able to do this? He wasn’t ready for this!

Autopilot kicked in and Miles followed everyone off the plane, taking his bag of things he didn’t even remember packing and making sure his brothers were following him before stepping out of the plane and onto the tarmac. The ride from the airport was spent listening to everyone else talk as Miles looked out the window, trying to pinpoint where they were in relation to their old house. The city he knew had changed drastically in the sixty years since he had last been there, but certain buildings looked familiar. As they pulled to a stop at a red light, Miles felt a tug on his hoodie that roused him from his thoughtless ride.

Royce released Miles’ shirt once his older brother turned to face him, a small smile appearing on the teenager’s face as he pointed at the small store on their left and said, “Look, it’s the Circle K you used to work at.”

Miles raised an eyebrow as he turned to look out the window next to Carrie, but sure enough, the little gas station was still there. It had certainly changed a bit - the building had gotten larger, the pumps had gone from two to four, and the price of gas per gallon had gone from thirty-one cents to almost three dollars, but Miles still remembered the days of him and his brothers hanging out behind the counter, getting their homework done and playing blackjack between customers. They would walk home with barely enough money to buy food for the night only to have it confiscated once they walked in the door. If they didn’t hand over the money, chances were Miles would have a black eye the next morning at work, telling the kind old man who ran the shop that he’d been roughed up by people on the way home.

“Can we stop for drinks?” Bentley asked, oblivious to Miles’ thought process.

“Sure,” Mack said with a smile, flicking on her blinker and pulling into the parking lot of the gas station once the line began moving. As soon as the car was parked and people began piling out, Miles slowly slid his way out of the car and sighed. They weren’t even a ten minute walk from their old house.

Vivien huffed as she leaned against the side of the car, pulling her hoodie off over her head and tying it around her waist. “This must be cool for you guys,” she said, turning to Miles with a grin.

“How so?” he asked in return, faintly hoping he didn’t sound nearly as cold as he thought he did.

Vivien shrugged, “It must be nice to go back to a place you used to live and see how much has changed.”

Miles scanned the intersection as cars flew by in all directions, “Yeah, well, I don’t exactly remember this place all that fondly.”

“Why not?” the girl asked. “I mean, it’s so close to the beach.”

Miles stilled, looking at the girl with an eyebrow raised. “Did the boys never tell you why we left?”

“Royce hardly ever talks about anything that happened before you guys moved,” Vivien replied with a small chuckle as she turned toward Miles. “I’ve always wondered, though. Why? What happened?”

Vivien’s cheerful gaze dropped as Miles said, “Our dad happened. He was a drunken asshole and we ran away to escape him.”

“Oh,” Vivien muttered, all semblance of curiosity withering away like the petals of a dying flower.

“We used to live just down the road,” Miles continued. “I worked here just to have money for food and lunch money and our dad would take it as soon as he knew I had money. He’d get wasted and throw punches like he was down at the bar.”

Vivien’s eyes widened as she softly asked, “He hit you guys?”

Miles' nonchalant shrug told Vivien that it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, “Mostly me. I know RJ said it happened to him after I left, but I doubt he ever hit Ben more than once if he ever did in the first place.”

As Vivien slouched against the car, her usually bright eyes glued to the ground, Miles was sure the conversation was over, but as soon as Royce came back to the car and was wrapped in a hug by his girlfriend, he asked his older brother, “What happened?”

With yet another nonchalant shrug, Miles said “We were talking about Dad, that’s all.”

Royce nodded and allowed Vivien to hold him close before whispering to her, “It’s alright.”

Vivien leaned back, taking Royce’s face in her hands before pressing her forehead to his, “He hit you guys. That’s not okay.”

“We’re not there anymore and he’s not around to bother us,” Royce replied. “We’re safe now.”

“He probably doesn’t even exist in this world,” Miles added with a shrug.

“Probably not,” Bentley said as he joined them. “I wonder if our old house is in this world.”

“One way to find out,” Vivien mentioned, pulling her phone out of the pocket of her jeans and unlocking it before opening her map. “What’s the address?” Pulling their old, Duffy Street address out of the deep recesses of their brains, the three Murphy brothers recited it in unison, allowing Vivien to type it in as everyone else came out to the car with snacks and drinks in hand. “This says that the address exists, but it doesn’t show what it looks like.”

“Really?” Bentley asked.

“What are you looking for?” Mick questioned.

“Our old place,” Royce answered. “Viv’s phone says that it’s still there.”

To Miles’ dismay, Brady suggested, “Why don’t we drive by and see if anything has changed? Hotel check-in isn’t until three and Vivien doesn’t have to meet her family at the rink for another hour or so.”

Bentley was quick to agree, making his two older brothers reluctantly agree to keep his excitement at bay. Once everyone was piled into the car, Miles gave the instructions as to how to get to their old house and, within a few minutes, they were stopped across the street from their old house. However, it looked different than any of them expected. Grass and weeds cracked through the walkway leading up to the front door, the numbers above the porch that used to showcase their address were long gone, and the once pristine, olive green paint that colored the house was faded and peeling away. Overall, it looked… abandoned.

Brady threw the car in park, allowing the brothers to file out of the car, staring at their old home in shock. Their parents, especially their mother, had designed the house and had it built before Miles was born and took care of it as though it was another one of their children up until their mom’s death. Even though they hadn’t had too many pleasant memories in the house after their dad’s personality did a one-eighty, it still hurt to see the building their mom loved so much looking so decrepit.

As a few of the others followed the brothers out of the car, they took in the crumbling foundation and the overall look of the house with worry. While it was true that the Murphy brothers hadn’t actually grown up in that specific house, the three pairs of eyes filled with sorrow were enough to make the others present feel just as remorseful. Oddly enough, Miles was the first to break away from the group, venturing across the empty street to the house he used to call home. Bentley latched onto Royce’s hand before dragging him across the street, Royce’s free hand taking hold of Vivien's sleeve as they walked.

While some of the others followed them to the house, Vivien’s gaze flickered over the dusty windows and weathered brickwork that formed the front porch. “It’s definitely abandoned,” she spoke as she stepped onto the porch behind the brothers.

Miles sighed, “I never thought I’d see it like this.”

Bentley attempted to peek into the house through the picture window next to the door, but the dust that had settled on the window mingled with the fact that the curtains were blocking any prospective peepers, he couldn’t see much of anything. “I can’t tell what it looks like inside.”

With a hum, Royce tapped a thoughtful finger to his lips, “I wonder if any of the windows are open. Maybe one of us could climb inside and unlock the door.”

As the three brothers began devising a plan to break into their family home, Vivien took one look at the front door and snickered, rolling her eyes as she tapped the flimsy, plastic, doggy door with the toe of her sneaker. “Rookies,” she sighed under her breath. Vivien pulled her hoodie away from her waist and knelt on the porch, placing her hoodie on the wooden floor just beyond the heavy, oak door before climbing inside the house through the significantly smaller, plastic door. Once Vivien was inside the house, she dusted herself off with a sigh, grabbing her hoodie from the floor and wrapping it around her waist once more before sparing a look around the house.

Looking around the house was like stepping back in time. Vivien had only experienced the sixties over the last summer, but the furniture and overall aesthetic of the house made the brunette feel as though she had somehow stepped through a portal and ended up back in the beach-side, Florida town. Bright colors accented the otherwise cream-colored room, mid-century style decorations made the room feel dated but also welcoming, and hand-painted artwork still clinging to the walls by little pieces of tape and thumbtacks gave the house a lived-in feel, but the colder temperature and almost damp smell were an obvious tell that nobody had lived in the house in years, perhaps even decades.

Vivien’s nose crinkled as she looked around, but a thump on the door dragged her out of her thoughts. Twisting the deadbolt and unlocking the handle, Vivien pulled open the door and sent the three awaiting men a hesitant look. “This place was abandoned ages ago. Are you sure you want to come in?”

Bentley turned to Royce who, in turn, glanced at Miles. The oldest of the brothers took in a deep breath and nodded, “Let’s do it.”

With a small nod, Vivien held the door open and stepped aside, allowing the brothers into the old abode. Once everyone was inside, Vivien closed the door, watching as everyone seemed to linger in the living room. Bentley was the first to truly begin examining the house, pointing out how the house looked in comparison to how he’d last seen it. While Miles and Royce seemed more hesitant to explore the place that looked so similar to the house they had run away from, they eventually split off to look around. Vivien wandered the house in wonder, looking around the closest thing to her boyfriend’s old home that she would ever get to see. The house’s style was certainly outdated, but it suited the time period they were from.

Upon exploring the kitchen, Vivien was mildly surprised to find lines of old, glass, alcohol bottles had been placed across the counter with a thick layer of dust settled on them. Perhaps whoever had lived in the house suffered from the same addiction the Murphy brothers' father had. The refrigerator still had childlike artwork clinging to it by little magnets, the signature in the bottom corners too faded for Vivien to read, but the art itself still vibrantly present. As Vivien circled the dining table, emerald eyes caught a glimpse of a thick envelope tucked underneath a piece of folded leather. The seventeen-year-old’s experience investigating abandoned buildings told her to leave well enough alone and to ignore the items, but her curiosity over where they were and the connection her friends had to the building won over as she picked up the peeling leather wallet.

Vivien only intended to check for any information as to who the wallet belonged to, but the thickness of the back fold led her to discover a thick stack of cash in varying amounts. The brunette glanced around, making sure nobody else could see the wallet as she closed it and set it back down on the table, taking the envelope instead. After wiping the front of the envelope against her jeans to rid it of the dust, Vivien’s eyes widened at what was scrawled across the white paper faded, rigid letters. It couldn’t possibly be right. She pulled her glasses off and swiped the lenses across her shirt before placing them back on the bridge of her nose. Nope, it was still there. It didn’t make sense! How on earth was it possible? By all accounts, it shouldn’t have been possible, yet there it was, staring her in the face. Seven words in faded pencil that, if they were real, had probably been written long before she was even born.

‘To my sons, Miles, Royce, and Bentley.’

Vivien debated on what to do, but eventually came to the conclusion that she had to tell her boyfriend and his brothers. Vivien tapped the envelope against her fingertips before taking a deep breath and heading toward the living room. The only person there was Butchy who was busy examining the books on the shelves. Glancing past the couch to where the boys had gathered in another room that must have been one of their bedrooms, Vivien crossed the living room and tapped on Butch’s arm. Butchy smiled at the younger girl, “There’s the little criminal. You know, breaking and entering is a jailable offense.”

“Maybe,” Vivien agreed, “but just entering isn’t.”

“I’ll give you that,” Butchy chuckled. Glancing at the envelope grasped in the girl’s trembling fingers, Butchy sent Vivien a quizzical look, “What’s that?”

Vivien glanced over her shoulder before lowering her voice and holding out the old envelope, “I found it on the kitchen table with a wallet, but I didn’t want to open it.”

Taking the white package from the teenager, Butchy opened it to find a thick stack of paper. At the bottom of the last page was a signature he doubted the Murphy brothers wanted to see. “Did you tell them yet?”

With a shake of her head, Vivien said, “I just found it. Do you think we should give it to them?”

Folding the papers back up and putting them back into the envelope, Butchy peered over Vivien’s shoulder at where Miles was sitting on the end of a bed, an old notebook in hand as he showed Carrie and Mick what was in it. Bentley and Royce were too busy showing Lela things they had found to notice the stare directed their way, but Miles was quick to sense the pair of eyes focused on him. As soon as Miles’ confused gaze met Butchy’s, the older biker gestured for him to come out to the living room.

“We don’t have much of a choice now,” Butchy muttered, bringing an arm around Vivien’s shoulders as Miles approached them, his hands tucked into his pockets.

“What’s going on?” Miles asked the pair, the small smile on his face disappearing as he took in their expressions. “Is everything okay?”

Butchy held the envelope out for Miles to take as Vivien said, “I found this on the kitchen table. It says it’s for you, Royce, and Bentley.”

Icy blue eyes flickered between the envelope and the other two people in the room before Miles accepted the papers. On the front was a style of writing Miles knew all too well after years of forging the signature for field trips and checks he had to send out in the mail so the gas company wouldn’t shut off their hot water. “It’s our father’s handwriting.”

Seeing the hesitant, almost wary look in Miles’ eyes, Butchy asked, “Are you sure you want to read it?”

Miles shook his head, “No, but I should.”

“I can read it for you, if you want,” Butchy offered, placing a hand on Miles’ arm. Miles contemplated the idea for a while before handing the envelope back to Butchy. Butchy nodded slowly, nudging Miles toward the couch as he said, “Alright. Do you want the boys to hear it too?” Miles was quick to shake his head. He didn’t want them to know what their father had written until he knew there was nothing in the letters that he should keep from them. “Okay. Go sit down. I’ll be over in a minute.”

As Miles wordlessly headed toward the kitchen, making his way through the living room with practiced ease, Butchy turned his attention to Vivien who watched Miles with concern. “Is he going to be okay?” she asked in a whisper.

“He'll be fine.”

Although Vivien desperately wanted to believe the older man’s words, she wasn’t even sure if he believed them himself. Green eyes met brown as Vivien crossed an arm around herself, the other playing with the chain of her necklace. “I should’ve hidden that letter and left everything alone.”

Butchy sighed, placing his hands on the girl’s shoulders as he moved in front of her, “Don’t beat yourself up, Vivien. This might be something he needs to hear.”

“And if it isn’t?”

“We’ll be there for him and the boys.” Butchy watched Vivien��s gaze flicker toward the room everyone else had congregated in. “For now, go keep them occupied. I’ll handle this with Miles and then I’ll let you know when the coast is clear, alright?”

Reluctantly, Vivien nodded, her eyes flicking between Butchy, the kitchen, and the other room as Butchy stepped aside. Butchy watched Vivien disappear into the other room, hearing her instantly get pulled into a conversation as he took a deep breath and headed for the kitchen. Miles was already sitting at the dining table, presumably in the same spot he always took growing up and, as Butchy dropped into the chair next to him, the younger biker met his friend’s gaze. “Thanks for doing this, Butch.”

“I told you from the beginning that I’m here for you no matter what,” Butchy replied. “You need me, I’m there.”

Miles nodded, more to himself than to Butchy. “What if I want to stop at some point?”

“Then we stop, simple as that.”

Taking in a deep, prolonged breath, Miles glanced at the letter before muttering, “Let’s start before I change my mind, then.”

Butchy grinned, placing a hand on Miles’ back for a moment before pulling out the letters and beginning to read, “‘Boys, in the off-chance that you’ve come back home, I wanted to leave you this letter so you know everything I never got the chance to say.’”

“He didn’t say much at all when he was hammered,” Miles scoffed.

Ignoring Miles’ statement, Butchy continued, “‘I wasn’t the father you three deserved, especially after what happened with your Mama. You three lost a mother that day and I lost the love of my life, but you three handled it with the grace only she could’ve given you. I broke and turned into a beast.’” Another scoff from Miles interrupted Butchy’s reading, but it didn’t stop him from continuing, “‘Your mother gave me the best gifts in the world and I treated you all so horribly. I didn’t deserve you boys and you didn’t deserve me as a father. I know I should have let you stay with your grandparents or with Thomas when they asked, but I had already lost your mother and I couldn’t imagine losing you three too.’”

Butchy spared Miles a glance, watching the brunette drive his hands into his hair as he breathed, “We could’ve lived with our mom’s family and he didn’t let us?”

“I know you don’t want to, but try to think of it from his perspective,” Butchy attempted as he placed the first page down on the table. “His wife had passed away and you three were all he had. It was probably something they offered early on and he was scared of losing you three.”

Miles’ gaze followed the faded scuff marks on the kitchen table as he thought over Butchy’s words. Instead of commenting further, he closed his eyes, shook his head, and said, “Let’s just keep going.”

Butchy shook his head and sighed, “Alright.” After clearing his throat, he read, “'I know this won’t mean much to you now, but I’ve been seeking advice on my drinking since just after Miles left home. It worked a little at first, but I was so far down the path that it was hard to turn back. Even though it didn’t look like it, I started getting serious about quitting. I was at a meeting the day Royce and Bentley took off. I came home to their note on the coffee table the same day I came back with my five-month sobriety chip.’”

“Oh, yeah?” Miles scoffed rhetorically. “Wonder where he was hiding those.”

Butchy’s eyes scanned the paper he was holding before he set the few papers down and reached for the wallet on the table, opening the flap in the front and dumping the coins out. There weren’t many, but the furthest along was two years. As Miles examined the cheaply made coins, Butchy scanned over the rest of the papers that had been left in the envelope. He skimmed a few pages and set some aside before getting to the more personal messages that had been left.

“‘Bentley, I hope that you become an artist of some kind. You certainly don’t get that talent from me, but I know how great you are, even though you’re so young. You’ll far exceed everyone’s expectations. As for Royce, I’m sure you’ll be a famous novelist someday. You boys got a lot from your mother’s side of the family and your way with words is definitely not from me, so take pride in it. I have no doubt you boys will be great regardless of what you do in life. Like your mother used to say: if you follow your heart, you’ll fly further than the moon.’”

Miles eyed the paper, a barely noticeable grin appearing on his face as he said, “I still tell the boys that.”

“I’m sure they appreciate that,” Butchy said.

“I know they do,” Miles replied with a nod, the tension in his shoulders releasing as he took in a deep breath. “You can keep going.”

Butchy smiled and began reading again, glad that Miles was more open to the words now that he knew how positive they had been, “‘Miles, I hope you’re taking good care of yourself and the boys. Show them the love that I wish I had. I will forever be proud of you for stepping up and taking charge when I failed to do so. You would have made a great soldier, but I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone, especially one of my boys. Take a different path than I did. Find someone who makes you as happy as your mother made me, pop out a few kids or get a couple dogs, and love them more than anything. Just make sure that you’re happy. You deserve it after all the shit I put you through.’”

Miles took in a long breath, his eyes locked on the paper in Butchy’s hands, following every word on the page as it was said. Butchy paused in his reading, keeping an eye on Miles as the younger man slowly sat straighter and asked, “Is there anything else?”

Butchy placed the paper down, only one page remaining in his hands. “This is it. You want me to read it?”

Miles shrugged, “We’ve come this far.”

“Alright,” Butchy said softly, returning his gaze to the paper. “‘You three always had each other’s backs, even when I didn’t. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wish you three would walk back through the front door, but that day will probably only come when I’m no longer here. I’ve come to terms with that. I’ve come to terms with my death. It’s inevitable at this point. Even though I stopped drinking a long time ago, that doesn’t cure every other illness that comes along. Liver failure is a bitch, but I’ll go on my own terms. I left money for you in my wallet. It’s all of the money I would have spent on alcohol since I quit. You were the reason I quit, so it only makes sense for me to give it to you now. Maybe someday I’ll be able to see you again, watch over you just like your mother does. I’ll be with her soon enough. Your mom and I will be proud of you three no matter what happens. Take care of yourselves and remember to never let anything drive you apart. I love you, boys. Always.'”

Once Butchy set the papers down and restacked them, Miles pulled them to him and slid them back into the envelope they had been in. For a while, they sat in silence, Miles staring off into space while Butchy tried to gauge his friend’s reaction. Then, to break the silence they had created, Butchy put a hand on Miles’ shoulder and asked, “Are you alright?”

Instead of answering immediately, a lie rolling off his tongue with relative ease, Miles seemed to genuinely think before answering, “No, but I will be.” Finally meeting Butchy’s gaze, Miles smiled, “It’s nice to hear even though it’s not coming from my dad. I mean, I guess it is, in a way, but it just doesn’t feel like it is... I don’t know if that makes any sense.”

Butchy chuckled, “It does.”

As the pair rose from their chairs and Miles tucked the envelope into the pocket of his jean jacket, a head of blonde hair poked around the corner. Bentley’s smile beamed brighter than any lightbulb as he declared, “RJ and I found Mama’s art set!”

“That’s great, Ben,” Miles claimed with a smile. “Are you keeping it?”

“I was just going to ask if I could,” Bentley laughed. “Does that mean I can?”

“If you can fit it in the van.”

A mischievous giggle was the only response Miles got as Bentley took off for the other room. Butchy shook his head, “I think you’ve enabled a monster.”

“I think you’re right.”

Leaning against the kitchen counters as Miles pocketed the wallet from the table, Butchy asked, “Are you sure you’re alright, Miles?”

“I think I just need time to register it all,” Miles decided with a shrug, turning to Butchy and tucking his hands in his pockets. “Then, when the time comes, I’ll tell the boys and let them read it for themselves.”

“And if you need help-”

“You’ll be there like you always are,” Miles interrupted with a grin.

Butchy hummed in agreement as Carrie entered the kitchen with a sigh, “You guys might want to stop them before they shove the whole house into the back end of the car.”

“That bad, huh?” Butchy chuckled.

Carrie glanced over her shoulder before turning back to the men with a hesitant chuckle, “Let’s just say that, if they bring out much more, we’re gonna have to walk to the hotel.”

Mick, one of the supposed “adults” in the house, cackled maniacally in the other room, “Take all of the photo albums! We can use them as blackmail!”

Miles turned to Butchy with a grin, “Yeah, let’s get out of here.”

“Yeah,” Butchy agreed, allowing Miles to lead the way out of the kitchen.

Later rather than sooner, they managed to get everyone out of the house and into the van. Things they didn’t really need, yet wanted to take home had been piled into the trunk and shoved into the gaps between seats, forming a problem they would have to solve when they met up with Vivien’s parents at the sports center. Miles slid the door shut after making sure everyone had their belongings, staring out the window at the house across the street that had, at one point been his home. Although he wouldn’t be returning to it for a long time in any world, he was almost glad to have seen it one last time. It was a sense of closure he didn’t know he was missing. All too soon, the van’s engine roared to life and, within moments, they were leaving Duffy Street and Miles watched his old home fade into the distance for the last time.

#Nelle's Christmas Prompts 2022 #writing #writing prompt

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