#Flag Golf Towel

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

NATIONAL ANTHEM- P.B PARKER

Pairing- Rich! Peter x Country Club! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: You work at the local country club as a barcart girl and you run into your crush, aka the son of the richest man in town-Peter Parker. Simple flirting becomes something... more.

Warnings: Making out, suggestive sexual content, dry humping, teasing, swearing, drinking :)

i'm your national anthem, god, you're so handsome- take me to the hamptons, bugatti veyron... he loves to romance 'em, reckless abandon, holding me for ransom, upper echelon -national anthem, lana del rey

Money is the anthem, of success- so before we go out- what’s your address? You hummed along to the sweet melody as it trickled out of the old stereo from your cart, speakers crackling slightly.

It was a hot summers day, you felt a little bead of sweat drip down the back of your neck as you breathed in the fresh air, smelling of fresh cut grass and fancy colone. It was days like this when you were most busy on the golf course, barley able to squeeze in a lunch break before someone came up to you, begging for a whisky sour.

But today you had tucked yourself away in a little hidden spot, a perfect view of scenery, the green hills stretching on for miles.

Sipping on a sweet ice tea from your straw you fiddled with, you watched as Peter Parker braced himself before swinging, club hitting the ball with a clean wack! before thudding down near the hole.

The wind rustled the flag and the fabric of his polo shirt, hair ruffled under his baseball cap.

You tried not to stare but it was impossible.

The way he smiled was intoxicating, and the way he laughed at his friends jokes… god you hoped to make him laugh like that someday.

Though he was almost four years older, the two of you had met during your freshman year of university. You weren’t close, but you werent strangers either. The odd hello was said, a smile and a passing glance in the library from his books.

Now you were practically about to graduate and he was working on his masters, his school out of state. He was home for the summer though, which was nice.

It just meant you could possibly serve him, which also made you anxious beyond belief because that meant you had to talk to him again. You took a bigger sip until you heard the straw suck up the bottom of the glass and the melting ice to ease your butterflies.

Wind in my hair, hand on the back of my neck- I said can we party later on he said yes, yes, yes!

Another deep breath.

He walked in your general direction, but you doubted he could see you. You prayed the low hanging branches covered you, or at least your face. You tried to look out at the rolling hills in the distance, admiring the scenery.

It was very out of your element, but you couldn’t deny the fact it was beautiful here. The ever so fancy country club estate glimmered in the sun, tall hedges trimmed to perfection with roses blooming in the gardens.

You could just see the tall fountain spilling water down, next to the tennis court. Sometimes you worked the bar there, or handed out water and towels, but you preferred being a cart girl.

It made your life much more interesting, to drive around and to see more people. Today you got to see your favourite person.

And apparently he got to see you.

The branches rustled and got pulled to the side, a buff, 6’4 man staring down at you. “Hey sorry, am I bothering you?”

You almost choked on your straw as you bite down on it. “No, no sorry I was just on my break. But how can I help you?”

“Oh shit my bad, I’ll leave you to it-“ He went to turn away, then stopped. Whipped back around.

“Wait- Y/N? Is that you?” Your heart skipped a beat.

“Yeah hey Peter.” you smiled.

“Jeez it’s been a while! I missed seeing you around. How’s life been?”

He missed you?! No, he missed seeing you. That’s different. Get a fucking grip woman.

“I missed you too! Or- wait erm… It’s been good! How’s life at Warner?”

His eyes brightened as you stumbled over your words, pleased you remembered where he was.

“It’s good. Super good. Lots of sunshine, and I’ve made some friends.”

“Not failing anything I hope?” you teased and he laughed.

“No, no I would never. But it’s good to be home for the summer. How’s your program going?” he asked, taking off his hat to run a hand through his messy hair, slicking it back from falling back into his eyes.

You tried not to stare at his arms but it was deemed impossible. His shirt fit him so well, his biceps strained in the fabric as they curled, and you could see whispers of a tattoo on his one arm. Jesus Christ.

“Super good. Almost finished, actually. Not sure what’s next, but working here has helped pay for most of it.”

“That’s awesome, you should be so proud. You’re a hard worker Y/N, seriously. You’ve always been.”

You almost melted at his praise, sinking deep into your seat as your tennis skirt fanned out across your thighs. There was no way he didn’t know about the effect he had on you. He had to know he drove you crazy.

“Thank you so much Peter. It means a lot coming from you.” You beamed.

“Awh shucks. Well anyways, I just came because I saw a cart over here and was going to snag a drink, but if you’re on break I won’t bother you.”

“No, no don’t be silly. What can I get you?” you scrambled up, popping open your cooler filled with ice and drinks. “You’re sure?” he asked, standing closer to you, to see what you had.

You squirmed, shivering even though there was no breeze. “Of course. I’m practically done it anyways. Happy to help.” you smiled, trying your very best to be professional and not look at him like you wanted to rip his clothes off at this very second.

“Just a Heineken please doll.” The pet name was going to make you spirial. Jesus. “That’s all?”

“That’s all. I’m easy like that.” You grabbed a cup, scooping ice before pouring the chilled beer. “Here. It’s on the house.” you handed it to him, setting down the empty glass. He shook his head, fishing into his pocket.

“Don’t be silly. Here-“ he handed you a hundred and your eyes widened in surprise and shock.

“For your troubles.” he smirked. “Peter- I can’t, I can’t take this.”

“Then take this too.” He pulled out a tiny slip of paper, crumped as if it had been in his pocket for some time. You opened it, revealing his phone number in fancy writing- the cursive that reminded you of your grandmothers. A little smiley face was printed next to it, which you mirrored back.

“Have you just had this in your pocket in case you bump into a girl?” you asked, laughing.

“I found out you worked here and I wrote it down, waiting until I had an excuse to bump into you. Now I have one.” he winked, lifted his glass in a cheers motion before turning around, emerging from the forest to jog up to his friends.

You watched him in disbelief, jaw slack on the ground. You fought to pick it back up, trying to not crumple the paper anymore as you held onto it for dear life. A wave of giddiness washed over you, your body hot to the touch, head spinning. Clutching the paper to your chest, you sighed.

Simply hoping something would actually come out of this.

For once in your life.

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

Something was coming out of this. Key word, was. Lines were blurred, and you weren’t sure if it was currently happening, could’ve happened, or had happened.

It had been a week since the original occurrence, when he had you nearly swooning and begging at his feet. Each day was a little game the two of you played, who could spy on each other first.

It had you picking up extra shifts, just to possibly see him that day, or for longer. The past few days you had worked at the bar by the tennis court, watching the ball bounce back and forth until a familiar face found his way to your bar, despite the fact he was on the opposite side of the property, and had bar carts at his disposal.

It made you feel like a teenage girl again, kicking your feet at the slightest interaction. If he wasn’t at your bar, he had found time to walk past your station (which was always very much out of his way), just to give a little wave, or to check up on you.

A few little texts had been exchanged, nothing more then simple, harmless flirting. That’s what you were telling yourself, and that was the story you were sticking to. Nothing more then that. So whenever he came over to fiddle with the straws, or suck the lemon wedge dry without making a face just to prove he could, you smooshed the feelings of need deep down, as much as you could.

Today was no different.

It was hot, one of the hottest days of the summer. You fanned yourself with a clipboard, thankful for the first time you were working in the bar by the tennis court, where it was air conditioned.

You didn’t understand how people could continue to play as if their life depended on it in the hot, beating sun. It was torturous to watch. You were extremely busy, barley getting a moment to sit down and rest your poor, aching feet- dozens of people swarming the bar for a cool drink.

Ice had to be refilled two times already, and you presumed it would be another two times before your shift was over.

“Busy there eh?” a familiar voice called from across the counter, and for the first time all day you were genuinely happy to serve someone.

“You again! It’s almost like you’re stalking me, or something.” you teased, quickly dropping everything you were doing to go over to see him.

“Something like that. Hey listen, I have a question to ask you.”

“It wasn’t me. I didn’t do it, I swear. The cops have nothing on me.” His eyes widened in mock surpise and his hands went up in surrender.

“Woah. Jeez, I’ll let them know. I have no idea how you found out I was working for them but I guess my disguise is shit.”

“It is shit. I’ve been keeping tabs on you to give you tips on how to be more discreet.” He laughed, swatting you with a straw he grabbed.

“No seriously, my parents are out of town and I was going to throw a party, but I won’t unless you come to it.”

“Well shit, that’s a lot of pressure. You’re basing this whole thing on me going, so if I don’t go everyone will be disappointed at me for cancelling it?” you teased, grabbing the ingredients to make his usual.

“Ha ha. Very funny. You know I don’t mean it like that. But I’d like you to come, it wouldn’t be the same without you there.”

“I don’t really socialize, so I’m sure no one would miss me. Plus, no one knows me.”

“I know you. And I would miss you, and you’re the only person I care about in terms of showing up.”

You smiled softly as his confession, trying to play it cool despite the fact your stomach was currently doing cartwheels. You didn’t even know if you were making his drink right, you prayed muscle memory would save you this time.

“You’d miss me? You just wanna talk to me more, do you like me or something?”

“Or something.” he smirked, smacking a twenty on the table, and you didn’t even bother to give him back his change. He refused to accept it back, you had already tried.

“Thanks for the drink sweetcheeks. It’s on Friday, and if you don’t show I’m gonna call the whole thing off, mid party and then everyone’s gonna be pissed at you.”

“Or at you for making up that stupid rule.” you snarked, sliding him over his glass, and grabbing a clean towel to wipe down your space. You could already feel two peoples eyes on you, waiting for a drink. They could wait a little longer.

“Show up then.” he shrugged. “But wait, I don’t even have your address-“ you called after him as he walked towards the exit, back towards to the heat and blinding sun. He waved his phone, without even looking back.

“Good thing we have these then eh sweets?”

“Smartass.” you grumbled under your breath as his laughed, and you watched the door swing behind him as you were stuck behind the bar.

“What can I get you?” you asked the stranger sitting near you, wishing more then anything it was Peter still there instead.

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

He was massive. Wait no- sorry, his house was massive. (Did you seriously think you’d jump the gun that quickly? Get over yourself).

You stared up at it as you emerged from your car, so out of place in this fancy establishment. He lived not only in a gated community but his property was privately gated as well.

Didn’t shock you.

You knew his family was rich, but jesus you didn’t know this rich. Dozens of cars were parked, all range rovers and catialcs as you locked your simple looking black civic.

Oh well. He invited me after all.

You belonged here. You were allowed to be here, no matter how many second thoughts you had looking at the fancy fountain, the perfectly manicured lawn and ferns, a perfect cone shape as they lead up to the massive pillars and white staircase.

You had dealt with snobby rich people before at your job, and you could do it again. Not that Peter was snobby in any way. If anything, he was one of the only ones you knew who was humble and down to earth. Hopefully his friends would be the same.

You smoothed out your mini dress, attempting to get rid of the wrinkles. Nervous, you figited with the pearls on your neck, listening to your heels clack on the pavement before you found yourself up the stairs.

You heard music, but it wasn’t as loud as you expected. No thumping floors or shaking walls, and you couldn’t see any flashing lights. You weren’t even sure what you expected. But it certainly wasn’t this. This seemed oddly calm. You could still clearly hear the cicadas as they chirped outside under the stars.

You lifted your hand to knock, and the double doors swung open as your hand was mid air, mouth opening in confusion.

“You’re not Peter.”

“So you’re observant too. You’re prettier then he described you. He’s been watching out the window for you like he’s on guard duty.”

“Bucky stop flirting with my girl!” a voice called from the other room, and you watched as Peter emerged from the other room, jogging over to you with a smile.

My girl? You fought a smile, trying to pretend his words meant nothing but you lost. Bad.

“Hi. Sorry I was just-“

“Waiting for me. I heard from your friend here. It’s nice to meet you Bucky.” you nodded, laughing as Peter’s cheeks turned a lighter of light pink.

“Likewise. Go into greater detail next time Parker.”

“No, because then you dicks will try to steal her.”

Bucky laughed, walking back in the direction Peter came from, which you assumed was where the main party was. You looked around, surveying the massive foyer- tall pillars also inside, bright chandeliers glistening over the towering staircase.

It was beautiful. You couldn’t help but admire the mural on the ceiling, mimicking a Renaissance style piece.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you for coming. You look beautiful, by the way. I mean you always do- but you look amazing now. Sorry I’m not sure why I’m rambling, I just smoked a joint and I’m nervous.” he trailed on and you laughed, reaching up to touch his bicep in reassurance.

You weren’t sure where the confidence came from, but you were happy about it. His skin was soft and warm, and he leaned into your touch.

“Don’t be nervous. If anything, I’m nervous. This is your party! And it’s so- wow.” you breathed, looking up again at the fresco.

“Everyone’s so excited to meet you. You’ve already met Bucky, I see.”

You giggled. “Hopefully they all like me. Are they friends from school?”

“Some from school, some from home, some from the country club.”

“Ah I see. So a wide variety.”

“Something like that.” he smirked, placing a hand on your lower back as he guided you towards a mysterious hallway. The hand placement. Oh my god the hand placement. You savoured his touch as he guided you, looking up at him despite wearing heels.

Somehow he still towered over you. It made you feel things.

You heard bustle from the room he was guiding you towards, the sound of music leading you onwards. Dozens of people mingled around what looked like a game room. Some lounged on leather couches with drinks in their hands, others playing a round of pool.

You saw Bucky and some others with a deck of cards, others at the bar top. It was spacious, detailed wood panels across the ceiling, with soft lights mounted on the walls, creating a glow. You admired the dozens of paintings perched on the walls, staring at Peter in amazement.

“It’s beautiful here.”

“Thanks.” he smiled, taking it in with you, as if he didn’t see this every day. It made you like him even more somehow, if that was possible.

“Hey everyone this is Y/N. Party is no longer threatened to get cancelled. You’re welcome.” he called out, and everyone cheered.

“To Y/N” Bucky called out in toast, raising his glass. They didn’t even use solo cups. This shit was fancy as fuck.

You laughed, waving to everyone before Peter pulled you aside, the music picking up its tempo as the chatter resumed. “Can I get you a drink? For once?” he asked, and you nodded- following him over to the bar.

“It’s nice to see you behind the counter for once.” you smirked, giggling as he whipped a towel over his shoulder like a real bartender. “What do you mean for once? I will let you know that I am the most prestigious bartender in France. They don’t even call me a bartender, the call me “tender of the bar” " he drawled.

“Just a cider please. I’m easy like that.”

He sighed in relief. “Thank god. I don’t know how to make anything but a whisky sour.”

“Hey, that's a start!” you smiled, watching as he grabbed a chilled glass and slid ice in it, before pouring your drink from the can. “Madame.”

“Thank you, monsior. Mmmm fantastic. You should work with me!” He snorted, throwing the towel down. “They would fire me before I could pick up a glass. You’re too talented, you'd outshine me. You already do.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“You’re being silly.”

“Silly is my middle name.”

“I thought handsome was your middle name?”

“Alright woah now-“

----------------------------------------------------------------- A few hours had passed, and the night was still young. You were drunk, a little- and your shoes had come off. You didn’t know where they went, or where your phone was, or why you were outside with Peter.

But you were outside with Peter. And it was nice.

The air was chill against your skin, but not cold enough you had goosebumps. It was soft against your flushed skin from the alcohol, and you savoured the breeze as it fluttered your dress. Everyone was still inside, but you needed a breather.

You could see the lights shinning brightly from here, where you were on the pool deck. Because of course he had a pool. He also had a tennis court, a golf course, and an indoor pool. No surprises there.

You heard the sliding glass door open and shut, Peter emerging with glasses of water in hand. “I figured you’d want this.” he said, walking over to you with a grin, and a fluster on his cheeks.

“Thank you so much.” you sighed, the water trickling down your hand as you grabbed the ice cold glass, taking a long chug. It cleared your head as it slithered down your throat, relieving your thirst.

“So, is it okay?”

“Is what okay?”

“Here. This. Me.”

You stared at him, cocking your head in interest, attempting to study him. “It’s more than okay. It’s wonderful. You’re wonderful.”

“You think so?” he asked, a glimmer in his eyes as he stepped closer to you, your chests practically touching as he grabbed your empty glass, setting it down beside you.

Your breath caught in your throat as his hand slid up, cupping your cheek- thumb brushing your skin making you shiver. Your nipples hardened under his touch- or the chill, you didn’t know.

All you knew was that his eyes were burning holes into yours with the utmost lust you thought you’d simply combust.

“Is it okay if I touch you here doll?”

You nodded.

“What do you want Y/N? Do you want this?” he asked, voice practically begging. The music from the party thudded off the windows, lyrics slipping through the cracks under the doors to echo into your ears.

I sing the national anthem while I am standing over your body hold you like a python, and you can’t keep your hands off me or your pants on, see whatcha done to me, King of Chevron…

“I want this. I want it all.” you murmured, leaning into his touch.

“Can you swim?” he whispered, inching closer and closer to your lips.

Wait- what?

“Ye-” you let out a scream as you felt the world tilt under your feet, tumbling backwards into the hands of a strong man holding your waist. A splash erupted, the world turning a murky dark blue as the music muffled. The water was surprisingly warm as you gasped for air, frantically reaching out for Peter to hold.

He was even warmer than the water despite the cool air, and he laughed as you clung to him, wrapping your legs around his torso, dress hunched up as it stuck to your body like a second skin.

You became very much aware of how his shirt did the same, except it was white, and you could see the perfect outline of his abs and his arm tats.

“Peter what the fuck?!” you shrieked, cut off as his lips crashed to yours, engulfing you with heat and a tenderness you’ve never felt before.

His lips were like pillows as they caressed yours, hands squeezing your thighs, your ass, your waist as he tugged you closer and closer, until your breaths had merged and you had practically become one.

Hands flew up to his hair, tugging on the wet strands as he begged for more, and more- teeth clashing, tongues begging for entrance before they slipped in.

You couldn’t help but moan, breathing harder as his squeezed your ass hard enough to bruise, unleashing whatever restraint he had been holding. You moaned again and he had to pull away, resting his forehead against yours, breathing hard as he watched your mascara smudge and trickle down your cheeks.

“Y/N fuck- if you keep moaning like that… I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” you asked innocently, shivering.

“I’m trying so hard to be a gentleman and not go past this, but if you keep doing that I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself.” he murmured, bringing a hand up to stroke a stray strand of water from your cheek, kissing each one.

“That’s okay.” you smiled, grinding your hips against his, rubbing against him as he moaned.

“Jesus christ baby. Fuck.”

You giggled, feeling his very prominent bulge through his pants. You grabbed his chin, lips melting against his once more, just to get a taste of him. You were addicted- heart thudding in your chest, blood turning to molten lava in your veins.

It was like his lips were coated in honey, so sweet you practically licked them. “You’re just so sweet.” you sighed into his lips, kissing him harder. It wasn’t long before you were interrupted, the sound of a sliding glass door opening.

“You guys almost done out here?” Bucky called out, Peter's head whipping to him in annoyance.

“ What do you want?!” he called out, exasperated. “Steve and I wanna swim. Unless you guys want us to join you, I’m sure there wouldn’t be too many complaints on this end.” Bucky smirked, winking at you.

What a goddamn flirt. You couldn’t help but smile back, even if he had just interrupted the best experience of your entire life.

“We’ll be out in a minute Bucky- calm down.”

“No need!” a voice called from the house, to which Steve ran and cannonballed into the pool, splashing you.

Peter sighed, leaning his forehead back against yours. “I am so sorry about them. This is not as romantic as I had hoped in the slightest.”

“What are you talking about? This is totally romantic. The drenched rat look I’m wearing is what the movies had envisioned.”

He laughed, kissing your forehead with a quick peck, before Bucky jumped in right after. “The most beautiful drenched rat I’ve ever seen. I promise you, we’ll have time for this again.”

“Many times?” you asked flirtatiously, and he nodded.

”Many times.”

“Good. Now, I suppose we should all play mermaids now. What powers do you wanna have?”

[m-likes-enhypen]

enhypens beige flags

some made up, some screenshots of random tiktoks that i thought applied to them

heeseung

he says acronyms irl

like yall with be hanging with friends or sumn and you guys have to leave

and he'll be like "ok! gtg!"

gee tee gee

rest of members under cut

jay

this man is ALWAYS SHITTING

your moms house? shitting

funeral? shitting

on a golf course? shitting

needs a stool (tbh so do i!!! once you starting shitting with a stool you cant go back)

jake

will just send you random photos

and not in like a cute spontaneous candid way

in a "heres the paper towel aisle at the grocery store"

jake why do i need a photo of a crushed up leaf

also this

sunghoon

bro will just lie about the stupidest shit, unprompted

yall will be chilling on the couch

and this mf will be like "joe biden has said multiple slurs"

and youll turn to him and be like WHAT? IS THAT TRUE ?

and hell just go hehe i lied 😊😊

sunoo

jungwon

if you go to any store with paintchips he needs to get one

"jungwon, whatre you going to do with 5 different shades of magenta paint chips"

"idk i just need it"

me too tbh

niki

[possum-quesadilla]

Chapter two of Lonely Remnants, “I wish I'd find all the lonely remnants, Of you that left when your head cracked open”, is here! Short but wild. Surprisingly, no trigger warnings this time!

Here are the extras!

- The lyrics for this chapter’s title are from “Coma Baby” by Nicole Dollanganger, and is also the origin of the fic’s title! I won’t go in depth as to how this song relates to the story, as that would be spoilers!

- “Painstakingly, she babysat the demon as it rinsed off the worst of what was left, then she used a pile of different washcloths and hand towels to wipe when she could off his face.” - If I had a nickel for every time a scene like this happened in my Beetlejuice fics, I’d have at least two.

- “My real physical form before I took this body was a bucket full of black goo. I could show ya, but I’d have to be qui-” - It was going to say it would have to be quick, because it wouldn’t have much time to return to the body.

- “It certainly hated the noise and the heat, growling and reminding her over and over that it needed to stay cool. She just rolled her eyes and kept doing her best to get the rotten little beast dry.” - IF I HAD A NICKEL-

- “A photo taken mid-snowball fight, Lawrence with an impish grin as he wound up to throw a rather large ball of snow at an unsuspecting Lydia. Lawrence, apparently having not grown up with snowy winters, sat bundled up in blankets on the couch, a cup of hot cocoa in hand. He was red-faced and obviously still freezing, but he was still smiling so brightly as Adam leaned down to kiss the top of his snowflake-covered head.” - Lawrence got absolutely decimated by Lydia for sneaking up on her like that. His ass got pelted with so many snowballs that Emily, Barbara, and Adam had to drag him inside so his southern-born ass wouldn’t get frostbite.

- “(Lydia’s passion for the arts seemed to have died with her mother, she thought. Just the idea of picking up a camera now made her sick to her stomach.)” - GUYS DON’T WORRY SHE WILL REGAIN HER PASSION FOR PHOTOGRAPHY!!!

- “ “That’s me and my dad, Charles. He used to take you golfing every summer to bond with you, but you sucked at it.” The Shoggoth gave her a funny sort of look as she continued.” - It was not prepared for her to refer to it as Lawrence.

- “ “Emily…” the Shoggoth echoed, some strange pained look flickering through it’s eyes.” - Hmm. Interesting!

- “There was a pair of photos of a family escape room trip. All of them, photographed by the employees, standing with bright grins and excited thumbs up. Then, in the same setting, with all of them staring angrily at an anxiously grimacing Lawrence, who held a sign that read “We did not escape”.” - It was Lawrence’s fault they did not escape.

- “Clusters of photos of nature, of them all in camping gear, of Charles teaching Lawrence, Adam, and Lydia how to fish. Lawrence diving in to the lake and then coming back up with a large bass in his hands, to the slack-jawed Charles’ astonishment, and cheers from Lydia.” - A little bit of foreshadowing to Lawrence’s country roots! My boy used to wade through the Everglades barefoot and grab pythons and such without batting an eye.

- “Lawrence hunched over a campfire, arms outstretched and face twisted and shadowed in a ghoulish grin as he recounted some ghastly horror story that seemed to especially petrify his partners.” - He has always been very talented at scaring people :)

- “Pridefest in a nearby town, Lawrence having Lydia sat on his shoulders as she flew a transgender flag high and proud for him. Adam, Barbara, and Emily smiling and flocking to their sides, touting their own flags. (Charles had taken the picture, it was amateurish and shaky.)” - Lydia is mad, hence why the narration/she is calling him ‘amateurish’ and not mentioning him as much. Also, ha ha, Charles is the only cishet one! Loser /lh

- “Fourth of July, where Charles, Adam, and Barbara followed Lawrence extremely closely each year, but somehow still never caught him before he could set off the disastrous “Fat Dragon” fountain firework that was captured in a bright, blurry photo of all of them running and screaming from it after it had tipped over and shot in their direction.” - Based on true events from my own life. Also “Fat Dragon” is a reference to “The Babysitter”, a movie I have a love-hate relationship with.

- “He looked… very different. It was almost startling. His face was clean-shaven, his cheeks were sunken, his hair was long and unmanaged. His features were almost… softer. Certainly younger. Very different from the bold, loud, scruffy thirty-something she knew.” - It’s because he went on testosterone after this!

- “He wore tattered clothes and had fake blood smeared all over his face. A zombie. How ironic. She held up the photo, eliciting a strange, grating chuckle from the Shoggoth.” - The Shoggoth also sees the irony. It finds it very funny.

- “Lydia pushed the album aside to ensure a sudden deluge of tears didn’t ruin it’s pages. The Shoggoth flinched, brows furrowed in a sort of pained expression. “… y-… you alright, kiddo?” ” - Oh? What’s this? The freaky creature already showing signs of caring??

- “Lydia raised an eyebrow and tilted her head hard to one side. She could swear she saw Barbara flinch at the movement, but the pained expression was gone in a moment.” - That particular gesture reminded Barbara of Lawrence.

- “ “… is that why they never came to…. Visit?” She got the implication in an instant, it seemed, as Barbara solemnly nodded her head.” - By “visit” she means come pay for a gravesite.

- “It isn’t our story to tell, sweetheart. Especially not..” - She was going to say ‘while you’re so young’, as they had an agreement with Lawrence to have him tell Lydia what happened before he came to their town when she was older.

- “ “Oh my god, that explains the weird accent!” Her second mom nodded fervently, leaving the rag where it was as she went to make her way around the counter to Lydia. “He tried his best to hide it, but it always slipped out!” She lowered her voice in her best approximation of her brother’s own cadence as she mockingly drawled out, “now, pardon me, ma’am, but I do believe he did a right shit job of hidin’ it!” ” - Partially based on my own experience of being clocked immediately for my own stupid yeehaw accent, although mine is not from Louisiana. Lawrence hid it very well, but it came out on certain words like ‘pardon’, and he let it slip more in front of his loved ones.

- “All the while the Shoggoth hissed and shied away, but Barbara pursued it and demanded it get out of their home as she continued to hit it.” - Hehe, she wants it to leave but she’s not letting it leave

- “Lydia called, surging forward and going to grip the woman’s arm, but she was stoped by Adam suddenly returning to his senses and lifting her up under her armpits and trying to carry her away.” - Adam dad reflexes!!!

[noisycowboyglitter]

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Golf courses have long been a popular destination for affluent individuals looking to enjoy a day out on the greens. With golfers typically having higher levels of disposable income, golf course advertising can be an effective way to reach this coveted demographic. In this blog, we'll take a closer look at what golf course advertising is and how it works.

What is Golf Course Advertising?

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Golf course advertising can be a highly effective way to reach affluent individuals who are likely to have a high level of disposable income. By strategically placing signage, sponsoring events, providing branded merchandise, and offering promotions, brands can build a positive association with the luxury and exclusivity of the golfing experience. With the right strategy and execution, golf course advertising can be a valuable addition to any marketing mix.

Augmented reality (AR) has become an increasingly popular technology in the advertising industry, and golf course advertising is no exception. Incorporating AR into golf course ads can provide a unique and immersive experience for golfers, enhancing their overall experience on the course. In this description, we'll explore the benefits of incorporating AR into golf course ads and how it can enhance the golfing experience.

[favefandomimagines]

Love It or Lose It 2 (r.c.)

Summary: you and rafe need to talk, after you became a social outcast. 

AN: i had to do a part 2 like come on lol

After you ran away at Midsummer’s, you became a social pariah on Figure Eight. No one would speak to you except for your parents and Sarah. Topper and Kelce gave you the cold shoulder but you noticed Topper’s black eye every time he came around. Wondering what he did to deserve that.

These people saw you leaving Rafe as you leaving him at the alter. It was something about the social order of things that bothered you to no end. One out of context decision could lead you to being hated among many.

Your safe haven quickly became The Cut because Kiara and your friends were there. But soon even that became your own personal hell. A rumor had spread that the reason you went with JJ was because you were hooking up with him. That you were cheating on Rafe the whole time. 

It was all a huge lie but lies like that were very easy to believe on the Outer Banks. And you were furious. You were hell bent on finding out who started the rumor and figure out just how much this ruined your relationship with Rafe. 

You could only imagine how Rafe was taking the false claims. He was probably liivid. Throwing your stuff out of his house if he hadn’t done so already. 

“Who the hell would do this? What do they have to gain from this?” You asked Kiara. “Someone is clearly doing it because they think you screwed over Rafe.” She answered. 

“Oh my god.” You muttered. “What?” Sarah asked. “It was Topper. Who else would it be? He’s pissed for some unknown reason and now he wants to ruin me and my relationship. Maybe to impress Rafe or something.” You answered. “Sarah, where are they?” You asked the girl. “The golf course probably. Rafe left with his clubs.” She answered. 

Like a bat out of hell, you left The Cut and drove to the country club. In that time, your anger was boiling over and all you wanted to do was scream and yell at Topper for doing this. 

What was he getting out of ruining your reputation and making it look like you cheated on Rafe? He knew how much you loved Rafe, you’d do anything for him. But just because you went with your friends who needed your help, he can deem you a terrible person?

When you arrived, you went right past the front desk and found Rafe, Topper and Kelce at one of the holes. 

You could see Topper say something about you, that caused Rafe to look up in your direction. 

“Look who it is, the slut herself-” Topper started before your fist met his face. “Oh shit!” Kelce commented as his friend hit the ground. “You are a terrible person, Topper! You know I would never cheat on Rafe. But you had to make up that rumor for what reason? Please, enlighten me as to why you’re such a selfish prick?” You yelled. 

In the midst of the silence, you groaned at the pain in your hand, not knowing whether or not it was broken. 

“You are a miserable person.” You spewed before walking away from the scene. Rafe took a second to see his friend holding his face and then back to you. Deciding to run after you to make sure you were okay. After all, he still saw you as his to protect.

“Let me see your hand.” He said to you, grabbing your elbow gently. “I’m fine.” You muttered. “No you’re not. Let me see it.” Rafe said.

You sighed before placing your hand gently in his. It was already starting bruise and swell up but to him it didn’t look broken. “Come on. Let’s go get you some ice.” He told you. 

You followed him silently into the country club and sat at the bar as Rafe asked for a cup of ice and a towel. He handed the makeshift ice pack to you and you carefully placed it on your hand.

“That was a mean right hook.” Rafe said. “Yeah well he deserved it.” You replied. “I didn’t cheat on you, Rafe. I would never do that to you.” You added. “I know. And I didn’t know it was Topper who started the rumor.” He said.

“But you also didn’t do anything to stop it. Everyone hates me because they think I cheated on you.” You rebutted. “Maybe because you left me at Midsummer’s.” Rafe said. “My friends needed my help. I wasn’t about to leave them like that. And I love you, Rafe with everything I have, but if we were to break up they’ll always be by my side.” You said.

Rafe was quiet for a moment, realizing that you were right. The Pogues would always be there for you whether he was around or not. 

“I’m sorry for embarrassing you.” You said quietly. “Baby, you didn’t embarrass me. I don’t care what these people think of us.” He told you. “But your dad-” You started. “I don’t care. All I care about is what you think of me. And I’m sorry for fighting with JJ. I-I will try to make an effort with him. With all of them.” Rafe interrupted. 

“Really?” You asked. “If it’s for you, I’ll do anything. I just want you to be happy.” He answered. “And I am. As long as you are too.”  You said. “How can I not be happy when I have you?” Rafe replied. “That’s so cheesy, you know that right?” You teased.

Rafe playfully rolled his eyes at you before bringing your injured hand up to his lips and placing a soft kiss on the knuckles.

“Where did you learn to hit like that?” He asked. “Don’t freak out, but JJ taught me. Before you, how else was I supposed to defend myself?” You answered. “Remind me to thank him.” Rafe commented. “Yeah, like that’ll happen.” You laughed.

Of course you and Rafe had some things to work through, like every couple does. But you were happy to call yourself the girl who made Rafe Cameron wave the white flag with the Pogues.

[emgoesmed]

7/7/2021

It's raining again today. I'm studying with one of my best friends (also a med student, at a different school) and it's been a productive morning so far!

What do you usually do during the summer? Is anything different this year?

My family is lucky to have a summer cottage in a lakeside community where we have a lot of family and friends that go back for generations. This year I am working remotely so I can spend the whole summer here.

What did you do during the summer when you were a young child?

I spent my summers at our family cottage: tennis lessons, swimming lessons, the dreadful annual children's musical, tying beach towel hammocks to the monkey bars, playing capture-the-flag on the local golf course and ghost-in-the-graveyard on the bluff, running down the sand dunes in a stampede of children, eating pizza on the beach, going to the drive-in movie theater, riding bicycles through the woods, pulling weeds (and complaining about it), playing cards on rainy days, buying soft serve ice cream for $1 from the little shack in the parking lot next to the grocery store.

[grannyandgrandpascreations]

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Garden flags are an exciting and easy way to express yourself and add some color and cheer to your home, your porch and/or garden especially with the many different options of Granny & Grandpa’s Custom Creations Garden Flags! Decorative and eye-catching garden flag to theme your home outdoor yard. Our Garden Flags make great Housewarming Gifts!

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Our designed is on a durable 11.81 x 17.72 inches, white single/double layer, polyester durable garden flag.

Fabric Care Instructions: Machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Air dry.

Due to different light settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures. Flag post is NOT included.

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[cathygeha]

REVIEW

The Vineyard at Painted Moon by Susan Mallery

 Emotion laden, deeply moving, intensely poignant, well crafted – this story grabbed me and didn’t let me go till I finished at 3am. I felt so much and at times wanted to jump into the pages to “fix” things knowing that the author would bring things right for at least some of the characters by the end of the book…or at least I hope she would! This is a story of love, loss, growth, endurance, values, goals and family. It is a keeper and one I would reread in the future.

 What I liked:

* Mackenzie:  dedicated, focused, interesting. She has been stymied for a while and may need to move on from the safe haven she has lived within for over a decade and a half. She has a rough time of it but comes through rather brilliantly in the end.

* Catherine: sister-in-law to Mackenzie, loving, kind, in tune with the earth, grounded, warm, creative…really liked her.

* Stephanie: sister-in-law to Mackenzie, divorced, mother of two teens, stuck in a rut and trying to move forward but it isn’t easy for her to do so. She is Mackenzie’s best friend and has been since college.

* Bruno: wealthy, attractive, investor, wine distributor, and intriguing. He is warm, a good friend, caring, communicates brilliantly and is perfect for the woman he ends up with.

* Kyle: a good father, professional, a bit selfish…divorced from Stephanie and father of her children

* Rhys: not a bad guy, married to Mackenzie, wants what is best for both of them, a bit heavy handed at times and sometimes rather clueless…and also selfish, perhaps.

* Georgio: a good man, loving, kind, generous, and perfect for the right woman – the boyfriend of Barbara (mother-in-law of Mackenzie)

* The close relationships that were friendly, warm, and caring.

* That there was growth in a number of characters.

* The dynamics between various individuals and groups.

* The way verbalization of feelings, thoughts, and insight into the characters

* Learning a bit more about the winemaking business.

* The setting – love that area of the world!

* All of it really except…

 What I didn’t like:

* Barbara: I won’t give details but if you read the book you will probably feel the same

* Lori: daughter of Barbara and quite a bit like her, I fear.

* The sadness I felt as I empathized with Mackenzie.

 Did I enjoy this book? Yes

Would I read more by this author? Definitely

 Thank you to NetGalley and Harlequen (HQN) for the ARC – This is my honest review.

 5 Stars

BLURB

MacKenzie Dienes's life isn't perfect, but it's as close as she could ever hope to get. Her marriage to Rhys, her best friend's brother, is more friendship than true love. But passion is highly overrated, right? And she loves her job as the winemaker at Bel Apres, her in-laws' vineyard. So what if it's a family business and, even after decades of marriage and incredible professional success, she's still barred from the family business meetings? It's all enough...until one last night spent together leads to an incredibly honest—and painful—conversation. Rhys suggests that they divorce. They haven't had a marriage in a long time and, while he wants her to keep her job at Bel Apres, he doesn't think they should be married any longer. Shocked, MacKenzie reels at the prospect of losing the only family she's ever really known...even though she knows deep in her heart that Rhys is right.

But when MacKenzie discovers she's pregnant, walking away to begin a new life isn't so easy. She never could have anticipated the changes it would bring to the relationships she cherishes most: her relationship with Barbara, her mother-in-law and partner at Bel Apres, Stephanie, her sister-in-law and best friend, and Bel Apres, the company she's worked so hard to put on the map.

MacKenzie has always dreamed of creating a vineyard of her own, a chance to leave a legacy for her unborn child. So when the opportunity arises, she jumps at it and builds the Vineyard at Painted Moon. But following her dreams will come at a high price—one that MacKenzie isn't so sure she's willing to pay…

  EXTRACT

Chapter One

“Not that what you’re wearing isn’t great, but the party starts in an hour.”

Mackenzie Dienes looked up from the grapevine she’d been studying, her mind still on the tight clusters of small, hard grapes that would, come late September, be ripe and sweet and ready for harvest. Between now and then, she would monitor their progress, willing them to greatness and protecting them from danger, be it mold, weather or hungry deer.

She blinked at the man standing in front of her, tall and familiar, with an easy smile and broad, capable shoulders.

“Party?” she asked, letting her thoughts of the vineyards go and remembering that, yes, indeed, it was the evening of the annual Solstice Party, hosted by the Barcellona family. As she was a Barcellona, by marriage if not by name, she would be expected to attend.

Wanted to attend, she reminded herself. It was always a good time, and Stephanie, her sister-in-law, worked hard to make it a perfect night.

“The party,” she repeated, her voice slightly more panicked this time, then glanced down at herself. “Crap. What time is it?”

Rhys, her husband, shook his head. “You really don’t listen when I talk, do you? We have an hour. You’ll be fine.”

She pulled off her gloves and shoved them into the left front pocket of her coveralls, then stepped behind Rhys and gave him a little push toward the flatbed truck he’d driven out to the west vineyards.

“You say that because all you have to do is shower and get dressed. I have to do the girl thing.”

“Which takes you maybe ten minutes.” He put his arm around her as they hurried toward the truck. “Happy with the grapes?”

“I think so,” she said, glancing toward the healthy vines growing on either side of them. “We might have to do some thinning in a couple of weeks, but so far, so good.”

As they slid onto the bench seat of the old truck, he glanced at her. She smiled, knowing there was a fifty-fifty chance he would call her out on her thinning statement. He was, after all, the vineyard manager. Technically all the decisions about the vineyard were made by him with her input, but not her instruction. As winemaker, she managed the grapes from the moment they were picked until the wine was bottled.

But at Bel Après, areas of responsibility often overlapped. Theirs was a large, boisterous family in which everyone had opinions. Not that Mackenzie listened to a lot of other ideas when it came to her wines, although as Rhys often pointed out, she was very free offering hers when it came to his work.

He drove along the dirt path that circled the vineyard, stopping by her truck. She slid into the cab, then followed him back to the family compound. The main road leading into Walla Walla was thick with tourists who wanted to enjoy the longest day of the year. She merged into the slow-moving traffic, doing her best to keep from glancing at the clock on the truck’s dashboard as she inched along.

Vineyards stretched out on either side of the road, flat on the left and rising toward the hills on the right. Bright green leaves topped sturdy trunks that had been carefully trained to grow exactly as she wanted them to. The rows were long and neat, and the spaces between them were filled with native grasses that held in moisture and protected the roots from the heat.

Looking at her healthy crop kept her mind off the fact that she and Rhys were going to be desperately late.

Twenty minutes later, she followed him off the highway onto a less crowded secondary road—a back way home. Five minutes after that, they parked the trucks by the processing buildings behind the big tasting room. Rhys had already claimed one of the golf carts the family used to get around. She slid in next to him and they took off toward the center of the property.

Bel Après Winery and the surrounding land had been in the Barcellona family for nearly sixty years. Rhys and his siblings were third-generation. The original main house had been updated several times. When Rhys and Mackenzie had married, Barbara, Rhys’s mother, had suggested they build themselves a house close to hers, rather than commute from town. Eager to stay in the good graces of her new mother-in-law, Mackenzie had agreed.

A large two-story home had been built. Barbara and Mackenzie had decorated every room, the act of choosing everything from light fixtures to doorknobs cementing their affection for each other.

A few years later, Stephanie, the second of Barbara’s four children, had gotten a divorce and moved back home with her two kids, requiring another house to be constructed. When the youngest of the three girls had married, the last house had been added. Only Lori, the middle daughter, still lived in the original home.

All four houses faced a huge central courtyard. Mexican pavers were shaded by vine-covered pergolas. The extended family used the space for big dinners and as a kids’ play area. If one of the women baked cookies, a cookie flag was hung out the front door, inviting anyone to stop by. At Christmas, a large tree was brought in from Wishing Tree, and for the annual Summer Solstice Party, dozens of long tables were brought in to seat the two hundred or so guests.

Rhys swung the golf cart behind the large main house, circling counterclockwise. Normally he would cut across the courtyard, but with all the party preparations, he had to go the long way. He pulled up at the rear entrance to their house and they dashed inside.

Mackenzie paused to unlace her boots and left them in the mudroom. Rhys did the same. They raced up the stairs together, separating at the landing to head to their individual en suite bedrooms.

Once in her bathroom, she started the shower. Thankfully, she’d already picked out the dress she would wear. She raced through a shower. After she dried off, she wrapped her hair in a towel and dug out the scented body lotion Rhys had given her a couple of years ago. Why anyone would want to smell like coconut and vanilla was beyond her, but he liked it.

She walked into the large closet and opened her underwear drawer. To the right were all the sensible bikini panties she usually wore—to the left were the fancier ones for special occasions. She chose a black pair and slipped them on, then went to the second drawer and looked for the matching push-up bra. When it and the pads were in place and doing the best they could with her modest curves, she pulled on a robe and returned to the bathroom.

After plugging in her hot rollers, it took her only a few minutes to apply eyeliner and mascara. She was flushed from the day working outside, so she didn’t bother with any other makeup.

Her hair took a lot longer. First she had to dry the dark red shoulder-length waves, then she had to curl them. While the rollers were in place, she searched for a pair of black high-heel sandals that wouldn’t leave her crippled by the end of the night.

Those found, she opened her small jewelry box and pulled out her wedding set, sliding both the engagement ring and the wedding band into place on her left hand. Diamond stud earrings followed. She’d barely stepped into her sleeveless black dress when Rhys walked into the closet, fully dressed in black slacks and a dark gray shirt.

She sighed when she saw him. “See. You have it so much easier than me.”

“Yes, but in the end, you’re more beautiful. That should be worth something.”

“I’d rather have the extra time.”

She turned, presenting him with her back. He pulled up the zipper, then bent to collect her shoes. They retreated to her bathroom and together began removing the curlers.

“We’re late,” Mackenzie said, catching sight of his watch. “Your mom is going to be all snippy.”

“She’ll be too busy welcoming her guests.” The last of the curlers was flung onto the counter. Mackenzie fluffed her hair, then pointed to the bedroom.

“Retreat,” she said, reaching for the can of hair spray.

Rhys ducked to safety. She sprayed the curls into submission before running into the bedroom to escape the death cloud. Rhys was on the bench at the foot of the large bed. She sat next to him and quickly put on her shoes.

“Done,” she said, pausing to reacquaint herself with the seldom-used skill of walking in heels.

She grabbed her husband’s wrist. “Seven fifteen. Barbara’s going to kill us.”

“She’s not. I’m her only son and you’re just plain her favorite.”

“We weren’t ready exactly at seven. I can already hear the death-march music in my head. I want to be buried on Red Mountain.”

Rhys chuckled as he led the way downstairs. “In the vineyard? I’m not sure your decaying body is going to be considered organic.”

“Are you saying I’m toxic?” she asked with a laugh as they walked toward the front door.

“I’m saying you’re wonderful and I’d like us to have a good night.”

There was something in his tone, she thought, meeting his gaze. She’d known this man her entire adult life. They’d met over Christmas her freshman year of college. Her roommate, his sister Stephanie, had dragged Mackenzie home to meet the family. Grateful not to have to spend the holiday by herself, Mackenzie had gone willingly and had quickly found herself falling not only for her best friend’s hunky older brother but for the entire Barcellona family and the vineyards they owned. Barbara had been like a surrogate mother, and the vineyards, well, they had been just as magical as Rhys’s sexy kisses.

Now she studied her husband’s expression, seeing the hint of sadness lurking behind his easy smile. She saw it because she hid the same emotion deep inside herself. The days of stealing away for sexy kisses were long gone. There were no lingering looks, no intimacy. They had a routine and a life, but she was less sure about them still having a marriage.

“I’d like that, too,” she murmured, knowing he wasn’t asking them not to fight. They never did. Harsh words required a level of involvement they simply didn’t have anymore.

“Then let’s make that happen,” he said lightly, taking her hand in his and opening the front door.

  AUTHOR BIO

#1 NYT bestselling author Susan Mallery writes heartwarming, humorous novels about the relationships that define our lives―family, friendship, romance. She's known for putting nuanced characters in emotional situations that surprise readers to laughter. Beloved by millions, her books have been translated into 28 languages. Susan lives in Washington with her husband, two cats, and a small poodle with delusions of grandeur. Visit her at SusanMallery.com.

 Social Links:

Website: https://susanmallery.com/

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Mailing List: https://susanmallery.com/join-mailing-list.php

 Buy Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1335912797/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_hsch_vamf_tkin_p1_i6

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Q and A with Susan Mallery on The Vineyard at Painted Moon

 1.      Where did inspiration for the book come from?

 The Vineyard at Painted Moon was really inspired by the gorgeous wine country of Washington State. My readers have told me that they love when my books have wish-you-were-there settings, like the tulip farms in Secrets of the Tulip Sisters and the monastery-turned-mansion of The Summer of Sunshine and Margot. So I knew I wanted to set my next hardcover somewhere that would give readers a beautiful, scenic escape—and this was well before I knew the book would come out during a pandemic, when we’re all trapped at home a lot more than usual.

 So I started daydreaming about beautiful settings, and I landed on Washington wine country. Breathtaking. Seriously, look it up.

 Every evening before dinner, Mr. Mallery and I have a glass of wine together and tell one another about our day. This daily ritual makes us feel close and connected even when life gets hectic, and it has led us to learn more about how wine is made. I thought it could be really interesting to write about a female winemaker, because this is still very much a male-dominated field. I asked myself, “What is the worst thing that could happen to a winemaker?”

 “What if,” I thought, “she lost the land she loved?”

 And not because of fire or natural disaster, but because of an emotional earthquake—Mackenzie Dienes is the winemaker at a family winery. But it’s her husband’s family. . . and their marriage is in trouble. She could stay if she’s willing to be nothing more than an employee for the rest of her life. But if she wants something more, something of her own, she’ll have to be brave.

 The Vineyard at Painted Moon is the story of Mackenzie’s search for happiness and self-fulfillment after divorce. With some pretty spectacular scenery thrown in. Oh, and wine. Lots and lots of wine.

 2.      What are your favourite scenes? Why?

 This is a tricky question for me to answer without spoilers, because my favorite scenes are the emotional turning points of the story. I don’t really want to reveal them here, as I think readers will want to experience them on their own. I will answer, but it’s going to be vague and somewhat frustrating. Teasers, rather than spoilers.

 I love the scene where Mackenzie and Rhys realize that their marriage is over. (That doesn’t count as a spoiler, since it’s revealed on the back cover of the book.) The way they come to the realization and move through the scene is completely unexpected and unlike any breakup scene I’ve ever written—or read, for that matter. It’s heartbreaking and poignant and beautiful and even a little funny. If you have a heart, it’ll make you cry. I think readers are going to fall in love with Rhys even as Mackenzie is accepting that she’s not in love with him anymore.

 One of my other favorite scenes is one that I’m not sure will stand out as much in readers’ minds. It’s a scene in which Mackenzie finds out just how highly she is esteemed by her colleagues in the wine world. She never knew. She never thought of working anywhere but the family winery—she was just so grateful to have a family through her husband, since she had none of her own. In this scene, nothing really changes but her perception—of herself, and of how people perceive her—but perception is reality. Suddenly, Mackenzie realizes that she has options. She can dare to dream.

 And that changes everything.

 3.      What was the hardest scene to write and why?

 At the risk of repeating myself, that scene in which Mackenzie and Rhys finally acknowledge that their marriage is over was certainly one of the hardest to write. The emotional intricacies of the situation were incredibly nuanced. I had to get it exactly right. Rhys is not a point-of-view character, so the whole scene is told from Mackenzie’s perspective, but I wanted the reader to understand and empathize with Rhys, as well. It’s a deeply emotional scene, and I’m very curious to see how readers will respond to it.

 4.      Do you have advice for me wanting to write in the same genre?

 Never give up. There are a lot of very talented writers who will never be published simply because they gave up trying. You never know if the next book will be the one. You have to want it enough to keep going.

 5.      Where did the idea for the title come from? It’s so original.

 Thank you! I almost never come up with the titles for my own books. My file names are just the first name of the main character, so the working title on this book was Mackenzie. When it’s time to title the book, the whole team makes suggestions—my editor, agent, assistant, the marketing department. It’s trickier now than it’s ever been because I’ve written a lot of books, and we don’t want the titles to be too similar. And yet they have to appeal to the same audience.

 All that said, I was the one to suggest The Vineyard at Painted Moon. I thought it would be appropriate to feature the beautiful setting in the title, since it plays such an important role in the book. I’m glad you like it!

 6.      Who is your favorite character and why?

 I love Stephanie and Four, Rhys’s sisters and Mackenzie’s best friends. They’re the kind of friend that every woman should have—and that every woman should be. Close female friendships are a hallmark of my books. In The Vineyard at Painted Moon, the friendships were especially complex because they were also sisters-in-law. . . soon to be exes. But at the end of the day, this truly is Mackenzie's story, so she would be the favorite.

 7.      What is your favorite book genre to read?

 For the most part, I read what I write—women’s fiction and romance. I’m not into thrillers or anything that involves violence and murder. I’m much more interested in emotional drama, in the inherent conflict between people who want different things.

[ducktracy]

155. picador porky (1937)

release date: february 27th, 1937

series: looney tunes

director: tex avery

starring: joe dougherty (porky), mel blanc (drunks), billy bletcher (bull)

while mel blanc provided porky’s shrieks in porky the wrestler, this is often considered his first role in a warner bros cartoon, or at least a role of substantial size. porky has also been considerably slimmer down. other directors such as ub iwerks and bob clampett would follow suit, with frank tashlin being the lone fat porky straggler. this is where i think looney tunes really start to shift in tone and truly become recognizably looney. porky gets refined, mel blanc puts his foot in the door... great things lie ahead! (and an interesting note—i’m using the porky pig 101 rip for quality, but the title card music is actually ripped from porky’s tire trouble. this is the beginning of many, many, MANY reuses... so get ready.) here, porky assumes the role of a toreador, hoping to win the cash prize with ease as his buddies promise to dress up as a bull and provide an even fight. however, when his buddies get into the bottle, porky finds himself fighting a REAL bull instead, and a cash prize seems none too likely.

the cartoon opens with an expositional foreword:

slumbering peacefully ‘neath the warm caresses of the noonday sun, lies the sleepy little village of la rosita. it presents a scene of serene quietude and beauty as its inhabitants enjoy their mid-day siesta preceding the annual bull-fight. the solitude is broken only by the occasional strains of a soft guitar.

tex does a wonderful job of painting the perfect setting that almost anyone can imagine (even if he does spell preceding as preceeding). and so, of course, it’s only right that the scene after the foreword completely defies every word. gunshots, shouting, people running amuck, a flurry of activity. this setup would be borrowed at the beginning of bob clampett’s naughty neighbors (which, funnily enough, also has the porky’s tire trouble music tacked onto it).

however, tex was right on the soft strains of the guitar: a mariachi band gets together to play “la cucaracha”. a variety of visual gags accompany the music, whether it be men head-butting each other, a man drying himself off with a towel, or a kid poking his head out of a pot carried by his mother, interjecting “swing it, mama, swing it!”, a man shaking a cocktail, you name it. there’s animation reused from a friz cartoon of a girl dancing with a cloth—i believe it may be from billboard frolics.

enter porky and his two mysteriously unnamed buddies, both sliding into view from opposite sides as they all approach the gate to the town. porky and co are nonplussed by the fervent celebration—we get a rolling pan of the action. gunshots, dancing, confetti, the works. a poster tacked up to a tree captures the audience’s attention:

TO-DAY

BULL FIGHT

1000 PESOS

TO THE

WINNER!

the camera then trucks out to reveal porky and his entourage staring at the poster. i was listening to mark kausler’s commentary on porky’s romance (which is coming up very soon, hooray! next porky cartoon!) and he mentioned how the camerawork could be a bit jittery and choppy on zoom outs such as these. the same applies here, the zoom out is a little jittery, but it’s a niche complaint. something i never would have thought to notice! porky signals for his buddies to bend down low, and he whispers an inaudible plan in their attentive ears.

fade out and in to a costume shop, where porky and co hurry inside. a few seconds later and out marches porky in a matador costume, a makeshift bull outfit marching behind, tail pompously raised in the air. topping the gag off, as if it wasn’t obvious, mel blanc provides his first coherent line of dialogue in a warner bros cartoon as the two buddies unmask themselves, reassuring the audience “it’s us!”

elsewhere, the stadium packs full to bursting with eager spectators, waiting to see the bullfight in action. some of the animation of the spectators streaming into the stadium would be reused as an overlay in porky & daffy. elsewhere, porky and his “bull” tiptoe into the back entrance, where they encounter the actual bull for the fight, pent up in a cage that reads “1st event”. the real bull mistakes the fake bull for a female, hearts pouring out as billy bletcher provides an “mmmmm-mmmm!” from the bull.

porky wheels the bull cage out of the way, fetching an empty cage for his buddies to hide out in until the fight. porky tends to his business, leaving his buddies alone, when a pesky bee flies into the cage. clever visuals of the guy in the bottom half trying to smack the bee, his hand clearly sticking out of the tail. the bee lands on the bull’s “butt”, to which the hand promptly smacks. though he hit himself in the process, the guy has successfully taken care of the bee, flicking it offscreen.

meanwhile, a bottle of alcohol catches the attention of the front half. carl stalling debuts his favorite drunken motif of “how dry i am” as the bull head opens up, buddy #1 taking a hearty gulp of the liquor. mel blanc works his magic as #1 wheezes and coughs, sputtering “hey, this is fine stuff!” buddy #2 pokes his head out of the butt and helps himself. wonderful animation as the alcohol settles in, #2 spinning and contorting the bull costume from the impact. he gives his seal of approval by slurring incomprehensibly.

the next scene has some wonderful animation paired with mel blanc’s hiccups. drunk #2 begins to hiccup, sinking back into the bull costume. what starts as a string of hiccups morphs into an uncontrollably frenzy, the bull’s back half rocketing up and down and flailing all over the place as the hiccups render drunk #2 (and #1) useless. eventually, the force of the hiccups is so strong that #2 lodges the entire bull outfit out of the cage, the cage now empty.

in the arena, a trumpeter blares out the beginning fanfare, and a number of miscellaneous doors—wooden, steel, even a safe—slide out of view, one by one, revealing the bullfighter’s entrance. this gag, paired with the same music, would be reused in porky in wackyland and later the remake, dough for the do-do. the gag would be reused to a similar degree in another one of tex’s shorts, northwest hounded police over at MGM. while the gag is funny as it is, even more amusing is that the doors open to reveal absolutely nothing. a beat, and then tiny little porky jumps out of a hidden door to the (our) right of the grand entrance, posing triumphantly. porky shakes his hands in the glory, eating up the applause.

back behind the scenes, a guard notices the bull is missing. he wheels away the cage, and spots the ACTUAL bull, wheeling the real bull back in its rightful place. another door gag as an assistant opens a heavyset door, pulling a string that reveals the door to be a curtain. the bull is riled up, snorting wildly. without any further hesitation, it zooms straight into the arena, spinning porky around in a whirlwind in the process.

porky, believing the bull is still his scamming buddies, whistles in awe and speaks out of the side of his mouth, “take it easy, boys! that was a little close!” with that, virgil ross animates a scene of porky doing magic tricks (i had thought this was bob clampett animation, seeing as he had such an affinity with magic, but the movements, shiny eyelids, and dimensional snout give it away as virgil), the bull running straight into porky‘s telltale cape. the animation is as wondrous as the magic trick to the spectators. porky turns the cloth inside and out—no bull. eventually, he shakes the cloth, and his bull plops out onto the ground. porky strikes a jubilant pose, with an angry bull glaring him down.

suddenly, porky whistles. “hey, caddy!” a man appears with a golf club bag full of toilet plungers. you know, the essentials. porky begins to attach the toilet plungers on the bull, one by one. the bull, enraged, shakes all of the plungers off except for one, that sticks to his butt. determined to get it off, the bull fights with himself, and in the midst of the struggle, the plunger gets stuck on his nose. he struggles to pull it off, but manages to do so, drastically elongating his snout in the process and giving a hilarious, squeaky whimper. the payoff is amusing with the visual, but this is definitely an instance where tex’s gags seemed to be randomly placed in with no merit. why was porky sticking the plungers on the bull in the first place? nevertheless, the bull, now more furious than ever, prepares to attack.

chuck jones is responsible for animating this GLORIOUS next scene. it’s one of my favorite scenes he’s ever animated. of the three specialties, two of them are included—closeups and drunks. dogs is his third, but i guess you could count these guys as dogs. regardless, porky’s hammered buddies suddenly burst into the arena, the bull costume ripped in half (and the owners of each half are switched). drunk #2 accompanies the vocal talents of drunk #1 singing la cucaracha. mel blanc’s vocals are absolutely HYSTERICAL. the hiccups, the slurring, the random YIPPEE! even better is watching drunk #1 get up in drunk #2’s face, completely expressionless (except for a drunken smile), the cow head occasionally concealing his head as it falls down and he props it back up. chuck’s movements are smooth, rubbery, and utterly hilarious. this is a great scene and the first time mel blanc truly shines for all to see.

elsewhere, porky’s still waving his little flag around, but pauses to admire the drunken music. suddenly, a revelation. he recognizes his drunks. he stares at the drunks, and then at the bull, prying open the furious bull’s mouth. sure enough, no pals of his are lodged down the bull’s throat. they’re over yonder singing a hammered rendition of la cucaracha.

mel provides porky’s “WOO!” of terror as he scrambles away. nice bit of a 4th wall break that unfortunately doesn’t realize maximum speed potential as porky runs across the borders of the screen, running up the sides and upside down, the bull hot on his tail. meanwhile, the time keeper (as his plaque labels in his stand) blows on a party streamer, a hammer popping out of the end and slamming on a bell.

porky and the bull freeze in their tracks, porky petrified with terror, so much so that two assistants have to physically pick him up from the ground and carry him off. the bull snaps in frustration and gives porky a promising glare of vengeance.

transition to a non-petrified porky gargling with some liquid and spitting it into a funnel with the guidance of his assistants. the bull goes through the same routine, and when the assistant points to the funnel, the bull grabs it and talks into it instead. “hello, mama! hello, papa! it’s great, fine. wish you were here!” even better is the bull’s contented smile at the end of the “call”. a genius gag that is enhanced by the deep vocals of billy bletcher.

the time keeper blows on his party streamer/hammer, and the hammer stops to whack the keeper in the head instead of the bell, a loud bell chime reverberating regardless. the chase resumes. bob clampett animates the next scene of porky sliding into the safe zone—i love porky’s giant satisfied, ecstatic grins as the bull waits patiently outside, humming (a scene clampett would incorporate in his own porky’s last stand, a mega-favorite of mine). in tex avery fashion, the bull defies all logic by lifting the painted lines off of the ground and towering over a terrified porky, who zooms out of sight.

porky’s drunken buddies notice the plight, and are at least sober enough to take action. #1 whispers in #2’s ear, and we see the fully formed bull (really a cow) costume hide behind a wooden barrier. an arm reaches out and grabs a baseball bat and a plank, calling “moooohoooooo!” (instead of “yoohoo!”) in a seductive catcall. the bull takes the bait, lumbering over to the barrier, where the drunks await with their weapons. even better than the typography zooming out of the scene as the fight ensues is mel blanc YELLING the onomatopoeia out loud, batman style. “bang! bam! bop! wham!” the action freezes. then more violence. finally, a victorious rendition of “the lady in red” as the costumed bull marches proudly out of the barrier, unscathed.

the disguise approaches porky, the head giving a befuddled porky a wink. then, the “bull” flops over on its back, tail straight up, a white flag of surrender waving triumphantly in the wind as porky is showered with applause, beaming and raising his sword.

just as porky’s about to collect his earnings, the REAL bull shakes himself to his senses. porky grabs the money bag from the judges, bowing as he twirls his hat victoriously in the air. the fake bull suddenly panics, zooming off screen. porky turns around to see a very angry, real, slightly bruised bull snorting heavily at him. porky shrugs it off, celebrating some more, until he realizes that That’s The Real Deal. mel blanc provides porky’s panicked HOOHOO!s as porky zooms out of the arena. a clever pause, and porky zips back to the bull, offering his money bag, and rocketing out of sight once more. iris out as the bull grumbles “well, imagine that!”—another catchphrase used from a previous tex cartoon, porky the rain-maker.

as i said before, this is the cartoon that really starts that looney feel to me. half of it is mel blanc’s prominence, the other half being porky’s slight redesign—he’d be even skinnier in tex’s next porky, porky’s duck hunt. this is a great cartoon for its time. tex’s gags are amusing—that setup with the whole “sleepy village which is actually a village in chaos” is just sublime. some gags made more sense than others. while the joke was supposed to be the visual of the bull’s elongated snout, porky covering the bull in toilet plungers felt too incongruous and didn’t really fit in. funny, but kinda just floating there. porky’s duck hunt suffers the same fate with the gag of daffy swallowing an electric eel—very funny, but has nothing to do with any of the adjacent scenes. regardless, you need to see this one. mel’s drunken rendition of la cucaracha is certainly the highlight, but there are a lot of fun gags elsewhere. very high energy, very fun, very feel good. give it a go!

link!

[jimmydemaret]

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[itssimonbeck]

my favorite Khonjin House quotes in ᵃˡᵐᵒˢᵗ chronological order

“I think it’s time to order a PEP-PEP-PEP-PEPperoni pizza”

“You can’t do this, Gay Spaghetti Chef!” “Kid... It’s just Gay Spaghetti now”

“Actually it’s a silent D. It’s pronounced “Jeffrey”“

“he͝ļlo son҉“

“but that’s a different plate of cookies for a different glath of milk”

“Do you even know what 9/11 is?! I WAS THERE!!!!!!!! on those planes”

“do not touch it” “why” “it’s just a little scooty” “what” “you know, it’s just a little scooty, don’t f u c k w i t h i t”

“WOW YOU FUCKING ASSHO O O O O O O O O O O O O O”

"The only C I can explain, are the C4 explosives planted under the floorboards." “What” “This whole place is going to hell.” “This can’t be!” “You’re right. Cause it’s C. Four. I planted the bombs. As previously stated.”

“Dear Mr. Fratelli, You may already be a winner.” *8000% VOLUME SMASH BROS VICTORY JINGLE*

“Unfortunately for Gino... He will never find the chiwowwow.”

“how about you get me a PSPiece of pizza or you can Nintendo 64get about ever surviving!”

“Here’s-a your pizza! With extra pizza!”

“EVERY- FUCKING- SHITTY-ASS SPAGHETTI PIECE OF SHiT!” *crash* “OH SHIT NOT AGAIN OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO0000000000000000″

“Hey, you! You like pizza?” “EƎEƎEƎEƎEƎEƎEƎ“

“It’s right here!” “That’s a wrench.” “Oh, I- I could have sworn this was a... a thermometer-” *WHACK*

“YAO IDIOT”

“*speaks Japanese*” [How easily you forget... ...I had the pepperoni pizza all along.]

“The following advertisement is anadvertisement.”

“Members of the jury, Gino says I’m fucking idiot.”

“I rest.” *collapses*

"Alright, boys. The heist is very ssssimple.            Kay. A rival gang set up shop right. Across the street.           Gay Spaghetti.          Okay? From the pizzeria.      You fuck. Their main export;          ᵖᵉᵖᵖᵉʳᵒⁿᶦ ᵖᶦᶻᶻᵃ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵈ” “So... If we steal-a the pepperoni... No more pizza bread.” “Precisely, ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵘᶜᵏᶦⁿᵍ ᶦᵈᶦᵒᵗ. Rob the place of every peppy. I want every peppy, on my desk, by the... The 69th...          hour...      Four... 420 days.    From now.” *the entire cast cracks up*

“Rob the place of every f u c k boy. I want every desk on my desk.”

“Oooooooooooh.    The map is spaghetti”

“Khonjin. Just give us the pepperoooni.”

“WELCOME TO THE KING OBSTACLE COURSE TO BECOME THE KING YOU MUST GET THROUGH THE FUCKING THING READY GOOOOOOooooo”

“It looks like a magic”

“Do I look like someone who knows what the hell. That is. Because I am. What was your question?”

“A real shark would never fall for such a stupid trick! Wait a second. A shark would never fall for that. And if he was a shark, why is he at the newsroom, if there’s no news in the ocean? And why are his legs comprised of the seven Chaos Em-OH SHIT IT’S THE BIOLIZARD”

“ᵂᵉˡᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵇᵒᵈʸ, ᵐʸ ʷᶦᶠᵉ ᶦˢ ᵃ ᵇᶦᵗᶜʰ, ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗᶦᶠᵘˡ ᴺᶦᶜᵏᵛᶦˡˡᵉ ˢᑫᵘᵃʳᵉ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗʳʸ ᶜˡᵘᵇ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵒᵗᵒʳᶦᵒᵘˢ ᶠᵒᵘʳᵗʰ ʰᵒˡᵉ ʷʰᶦᶜʰ ᶦˢ ᵃ ᵖᵃʳ ²⁶. ᵀʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ, ᶦᵗ ᶦˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᴬᵖᵖᵃˡᵃᶜʰᶦᵃⁿ ᵐᵒᵘⁿᵗᵃᶦⁿ ʳᵃⁿᵍᵉ. ᴺᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉˢˢ, ᴷʰᵒⁿʲᶦⁿ ᶦˢ ᵉˣᵃᶜᵗˡʸ ᵒⁿᵉ ˢᵗʳᵒᵏᵉ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵛᶦᶜᵗᵒʳʸ. ᴹᵘᶜʰ ˡᶦᵏᵉ ᵐʸ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵈᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ᶦˢ ᵒⁿᵉ ˢᵗʳᵒᵏᵉ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰᵃᵛᶦⁿᵍ ᵐᵉ ᶦⁿʰᵉʳᶦᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᵐᶦˡʸ ᶠᵒʳᵗᵘⁿᵉ. ʸᵉˢ ᶦⁿᵈᵉᵉᵈ, ʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᶜᵘʳᵉᵈ ᵐᶦˡˡᶦᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ᵈᵒˡˡᵃʳˢ ᵃˢ ᵃ ᶜᵒⁿ ᵐᵃⁿ. ᴴᵉ ˢᵒˡᵈ ᵇᶦᶜʸᶜˡᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵍˡᵉˢˢ ᶜʰᶦˡᵈʳᵉⁿ. ᴳᵒᵗᵗᵃ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ʰᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ᶦᵗ. ᴼʰ. ᴬⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ THE SHOT- IN ONE SHOT! WHAT A BBBBEAUUUUUUTIFUL SHOT! THE SHOT IS SO GOOOOOD! IT’S OVER! KHONJIN HAS WON THE GGGGGAAAAAME”

“Khonjin, you’ve just won. The 4th. Grand slam. Golf tournament. In Africa”

“We have the pepperone pazzi”

“I’m gonna teach you how to speak English. Repeat after me. my unununultra fufulf GYEƎEƎEƎEƎEƎEƎEƎH and my ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ˢᵘᶜᵏˢ rememberɹǝqɯǝɯᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ thɥthɥʇat one. My fblɟqlɟqɟfblɟqlɟqɟfblɟqlɟqɟ eugh.“                          “ᵉᵃᵗ ᵗʰᶦˢ ˢᵘᶜᵏᵃ”“ʷʰʸ ᶦˢⁿ’ᵗ ˢʰᵃᵈ ʰᵉʳᵉ””ʸᵉᵃʰ!”“ᵍᵒ”“NOW THIS OUGHTA STOP THAT PIECENJAHDNKSLCJBHJBJSJBFSEHJABHJ”

“I ain't gunna play cards with some bitchy fishy tryna play with the sharks, so how about you grab yourself a towel and get out the pool.“

“But like an elephant on 9/11, I never forget”

“WHERE’S MY SLICE OF PIEZZA”

“ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵛᵒᶦᶜᵉ ᵃᶜᵗᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵘᶜᵏ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒᶦⁿᵍ”

“We’re not going to Six Flags. We’re going on a hit.”

“If I a-were a target... Where would I hide?”

“How we supposed to- wait”

“IIIII’VE GOT THE NET” “TAAAAAKE THIIIIIIIIS” “Oh my God” “FINALLY. I can return... to Kingda Ka”

“Some people want to make it their own way, but I like to make it the Gay way”

“Dear Diary. Today I’ve decided to stop wasting my time with habits that just are fucking dumb.”

“Dear Diary. Gino is Gino.”

“The graphics look like they were drawn by a four year old. With the talents of Pablo Picasso. In his prime. Which is what I would have said, if I liked the graphics. Which I do. Not.” “Fascinating.”

“And that’s why I give this game a five out of five. Billion. It fucking su-”

“Gino. Touch this bow~” “I’m- I’m not touching that bow.” “How about- eh~" *Gino gets a bow* “I knew it! It’s a bow that makes bows. We can sell them for four dollars a piece. Cold hard cash. Or credit.”

“HOW MAY I HELP YOU”

“Alright I’m taking a look here, says you’ve been making pizza for five... minutes. Under wage you wrote... A GameCube.” “I know what I want, and I know what I deserve.” “Oh, that’s great, I’m glad you know, but uh- I don’t- I don’t know what the fuck a GameCube is.” “Look here, bossman, these three words are non-negotiable. Super. Monkey. Ball.”

“So it says here your name is Gay Skateboard Man?” “YEEEEEEEUS *cracks up*”

“Yes, I’m fr- *clears throat* America. I am from America.”

“NEGADAD.”

“RULING THE GALAXY.”

“OH SHIT O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O0O0″

“Why are you after a baby, you psychopath?!” “Alright you wanna know so bad? The baby stole my gun.”

“What was so important that you had to leave your gun?! Outside?! For anyone to take?” “This frisbee.”

“heY freD. it’S mE, yogI BEƎEƎEƎEƎEƎEƎ“

“woof woof bark bark BARNEY MY PUEBLOS”

“I knew you would sneak in through the pipe, SO I TURNED MY BASE INTO A GIANT PIPE!”

“Who taught you how to cook? Papa John? Or as you call him. Daddy.”

“HOW DO I GET TO THE INTERNET?!”

“Gino, you didn’t tell me that CrabCrab was a Crab!”

“PSYCHIIIIIC net”

“Have you thought of picking up garbage? And selling i-*cracks up*”

“Khonjin! there’s a crazy penguin prize!”

“backetball is my middle name”

“I’ve learned all the racial slurs in existence. And I will recite them now.”

“Gay Spaghetti Cheeeeeef~ is back”

“Ultimately Cory had to be evacuated for safety. He later opened a Quiznos to moderate success.”

[Gino says the fucking N-word] “WHAT” “Get your Bobby Childs™ brand Bobby Childs™ T-shirt!”

“Hello welcome to Fratelliano’s pizza would you like to purchase WinRAR”

“Send in the missiles.” “Oh yes sir absolutely coming right up”

(in not even close to Gino’s voice) “Khonjin I just remembered I don’t know how to sing Amore and I’m not Italian”

[calissa-gordon-blog]

Post #1

https://www.vox.com/first-person/2020/4/25/21234774/coronavirus-covid-19-protest-anti-lockdown

Religion and politics have often been regarded as controversial and as my mother would call “not dinner table appropriate” topics. However, we know that both of these topics impact our country greatly and often have a lot to do with one another. Religion is very often seen affecting which way politically, left or right, majority of a group will go. We have recently looked at the voting patterns among the African American community, in which 85% said religion is essential to their life. Along with that majority of people in the African-American community are very democratic in terms of politics and conservative in terms of moral codes. With this being know now, the President can look to states with higher amounts of white republicans to sway a state to change policies, especially seen right now with COVID-19 policies being decided by the state Governors. Trump has been tweeting, “LIBERATE MICHIGAN” and “LIBERATE MINNESOTA” in efforts to rally Americans against their governors strict COVID-19 policies.

Over this past week thousands of people have gathered in multiple states protesting against the stay-at-home orders often displaying signs saying, “Give me Liberty of give me COVID-19” as well as “Trump 2020” flags. I also saw many people talking about seeing signs saying “I want a haircut” and “Let my people GOLF.” The thing that seems to stand out the most is the fact that most of them are white. The article brings into question that many of these protests call on the white supremacy that has plagued this country for decades. They are focusing solely on the economic issues we will have due to this versus the thousands of Americans infected and the families of victims. Data has shown that “the mortality rate for blacks is 2.7 times higher than for whites” even though they only make us 13 percent of the U.S population showing who is most at risk.

Two cities who have been affected greatly by the virus yet have participated in the protests are Huntington Beach and Newport Beach (and yes they are “predominantly white and affluent” communities). They have very high average income levels which can be assumed if they were to get infected would have the coverage for it, however, many POC do not with blacks being “1.5 times more likely to be uninsured compared to whites.”  Another important factor in this is that a majority of the essential workers are black and Latino putting themselves the most at risk.

This pandemic has come to show the true colors, most of those that were known, that white Republicans will put themselves before others. In this circumstance it proves that the mere conveniences, such as a haircut and golf, matter more than American lives. One haircut to a one individual does not put them at a great risk but what about the worker that is there all day? Many of these Americans protesting are also saying they are being “oppressed” which is not a word to just throw around when you are forced to stay at home with enough towel paper and food to last over a month along with health care incase one is to get sick. This shows that when white Americans “freedom” is put at risk there will be riots but when it affects POC they are and were silent.

[welllpthisishappening]

[Always] A Boast or Brag

Alright, it’s Fourth of July. Hockey players are consistently absurd in the offseason. And @stealing-vengence sent me an ask earlier today suggesting that something from this post of the aforementioned hockey players being absurd would help inspire some words. So, uh, I spent 30 minutes typing before getting absolutely wrecked at mini-golf and here we are. 

Set the summer after Matt is born, so this is actually July 4, 2019 here. It’s like, only, two thousand words! A drabble! 

I hope you guys all have/had/will continue to have a good Fourth, but also, like, America is kind of a disaster, so if you’ve got a few extra bucks maybe send ‘em here so you can help other people. Let’s be good people. 

------

It really was a dumb idea.

A stupid idea.

An idiotic idea.

A vaguely patriotic idea

Emma wasn’t even sure if that last one made sense, but Mrs. Vankald had outdone herself and they were in Colorado and it was probably…something about the sun. Or the holiday. Or how stupid it was that Emma was still so incredibly, possibly irrationally, attracted to her own husband.

Particularly when he kept splashing in a pool with their son.

That was just unfair.

So, really, she could not be held accountable for whatever happened next.

Because what happened next might have been the dumbest thing she’d ever done.

“I’m telling you, the logistics of it are possible,” Liam said, and Emma knew it wasn’t the first time he’d used those words in that exact order, but she’d admittedly only kind of been paying attention.

Will shook his head slowly, slumped against the stairs at the other end. “Have you lost your mind?”

“You don’t think so?”

“I think you’re drunk and you’re insane.”

“No, no, no—“

“—That’s totally what it is,” Robin interrupted. He hadn’t gotten in the pool once, more than content to spend most of the afternoon on a chair next to Regina while both of their kids did their best to get as much water on the deck as possible.

Mrs. Vankald must have bulk-ordered American flag bathing suits.

“Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?” Emma murmured, bumping her arm against Elsa’s. She couldn’t actually see her roll her eyes, what with the sunglasses and the absolute refusal to change into flag-branded despite the uproar of the peanut gallery and their announcements that she should have been the most patriotic of all, but Emma could feel it. She knew it.

The muscles in her face were starting to ache from all the smiling.

“Scarlet is right, it’s definitely an alcohol thing,” she muttered, drawing an indignant sound out of Liam and a laugh out of Killian. It made Matt splash even more. “But, yes, I do.”

“And you want to share with the class, or…”

“Leader thinks we should be playing chicken,” Will explained. “But like—“

“—Ultimate chicken,” Liam amended, and Emma’s eyes couldn’t flicker to Killian’s quickly enough. He was wearing flag-branded sunglasses. That was also kind of distracting.

It was the mostly the kid thing, though.

“And what,” Emma started, “is ultimate chicken, exactly?”

Liam actually stood up a bit straighter. It wasn’t all that easy, one of the twins hanging off his side while the other appeared especially insulted that Roland could get more splash on his cannonball, but he certainly made an effort and Emma had to bite her lip to stop from laughing.

It was an idiotic idea.

“Ultimate chicken,” Liam said, “is, as its name implies, the ultimate form of physical—“

“—Oh my God, say combat,” Regina muttered, not taking her eyes off the magazine in her hand.

Liam’s shoulders slumped. “It’s not combat, Your Highness. It’s…well, it’s chicken. Like pool chicken, you know?”

“He’s only doing this because it’s the one thing we didn’t have when we were kids,” Anna laughed. She dropped on Emma’s other side, Lizzie clinging to the straps of her bathing suit top and her eye roll was really more a full body roll.

“No pool,” Elsa added.

Emma nodded, a soft ahh and another glance Killian’s direction. He grinned. “He’s a giant whiner is really what’s going on,” Killian said, hauling Matt in his arms and the splashes were even larger when they were more like kicks.

Her heart felt like it was going to explode.

Like a firework.

So, at least she was on brand.

“Do not act like you guys were not disappointed about the pool thing,” Liam shouted, but that only led to more laughter and Emma was a little worried Will was going to drown. He kept sliding further down the steps.

“No one was disappointed about a pool. Water was supposed to be frozen, not swum in. Swam in? What’s the right tense there?”

“Didn’t go to college,” Regina muttered.

Killian stuck his tongue out at her. And then immediately started blowing raspberries on Matt’s stomach.

“You realize that I’m still waiting on an explanation for ultimate chicken,” Emma pointed out, and Will was absolutely going to drown.

Liam slung Charlie over his back, leveling Emma with a very specific type of stare that she was starting to believe was, in fact, genetic. She didn’t blink. “You’re familiar with chicken?”

“Didn’t grow up with a pool either.”

“Ok, don’t be difficult.” She splashed him, reveling a bit in the way he sputtered against the water. Killian was openly smirking at her now. “Jeez,” Liam grumbled. “See if I ask you to be on my team.”

“Was he always this bad at getting to the point?” Robin asked. “Why did we ever let him be in charge of anything?”

“It’s three-person chicken! God,” Liam groaned, not able tot how his head back like Emma knew he wanted to. That was probably also genetic. “So it’s two people on top, instead of one and then we—“

“—Do combat,” Regina finished.

“I hate all of you.”

“God bless, us everyone,” Anna said, Killian shaking his head.

“Wrong holiday.”

“Your sunglasses are stupid.”

“Don’t tell your mom that.”

“She’s watching 1776.”

“Of course she is.”

“Is no one going to agree to ultimate chicken?” Liam asked, but every word was a bit more petulant than the last and Elsa wasn’t even trying to mask her laugh. Will had started floating at some point.

“You’re going to kill all of us, if we do that,” Robin said.

“Where is your adventurous spirit?”

“Stuck in my rookie season.”

“He’s old, you see,” Killian drawled. Robin threw a towel at him. “Hey, c’mon, I’m not throwing things at your kids!”

“Yeah, my kids are throwing themselves, so that threat doesn’t hold any—“

“—Water,” Elsa and Anna shouted at the same time, identical laughs and wide smiles and Emma was fairly certain the warm flutter of feeling under her skin didn’t have anything to do with the sun.

Killian glanced at her again.

She shrugged.

She’d never played chicken before.

And it was the dumbest, stupidest idea in the history of the world.

“Liam, you’re going to have to be some kind of super strong base,” Emma said, pulling her legs out of the water so she could get back in the water. It was a very round-about way of doing things, but then, she supposed, ultimate chicken was also kind of strange and Liam looked a little overjoyed. “Because I’m not sitting on anyone’s shoulders except Killian’s.”

“Tough break,” Killian quipped, a smile practically dripping with sarcasm now.

“Are you guys kidding me?”

Emma shook her head. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to stand up, if I’m being honest, but you deserve to live your dream, Liam Jones, so…”

“You’re making fun.”

“Yes. Obviously.”

Elsa snickered, sliding into the pool as well. “Which is what you deserve, babe,” she said, a quick kiss to his cheek. “Scarlet, are we doing this, then?”

“Yeah, of course we are.”

Liam gaped at them. “You guys are kidding.”

“This is what you wanted, Liam,” Killian reasoned. “You two need a third, though. Otherwise we’re killing ourselves for nothing.”

“If any of you die, I’m going to be very frustrated,” Regina said.

“Noted. I’m serious, El, find another third person or—“

“—Obviously I’m going to do it,” Anna announced, sounding more than a little annoyed that they hadn’t realized. “I’ve just got to…” She glanced around, like one of the Vankalds would appear suddenly to take over child-watching duties and this entire family was a joke and a fairy tale and goddamn wonderful because Mrs. Vankald did, in fact, appear, phone in one hand and “Sit Down, John” humming in the air around her. Anna handed Lizzie over.

And got water everywhere when she jumped in the pool.

Liam groaned and Killian laughed and Matt sounded overjoyed, so many people and moving water and Regina finally put her magazine down to mutter give me that kid before retreating back to her chair almost immediately.

Which was, probably, for the best because the whole thing was as absurd as Emma thought it would be.

Liam had to crouch in the middle of the pool, just shallow enough that he wasn’t treading water, Killian clamoring onto his shoulders and there were more than a few god, skate more, you weigh six tons, exchanged before Emma felt like she could even attempt to get on.

That was a very strange sentence.

That was probably a metaphor for America.

“This is not going to work,” she muttered, but both Jones brothers shook their head. She was not surprised Killian was already determined to win. Over-competitive idiot.

“It is, Swan. Look, look, we’ve got logistics and—“

Liam let out a triumphant noise. “I knew you’d come around eventually, little brother.”

“My foot is very close to your face, you want to try that again?”

“Jeez,” Anna sighed. “It’s like time has not passed at all.”

Emma took a deep breath, trying not to think of all the ways this was going to completely blow up in her face. That was another fireworks joke. “Ok,” she said. “Liam, you’ve got to get lower, you are severely overestimating my climbing ability.” Killian snickered. “Oh, do not,” she warned, slinging a leg halfway up Killian’s arm.

“Something about a tree, right, love?”

“I will kick you.”

“You’re not that flexible.”

She nipped at the shell of his ear, making him laugh and wobble and Liam cursed loudly. “Alright, alright,” Emma chanted, a poor attempt to psych herself up. Her right leg had gotten over Killian’s shoulder, but her left foot was still on the ground, a shaky base and the out-of-practice thigh muscles of Liam Jones and—“I’m just gonna…”

The rest of the words got caught in her throat, any sense of the English language quickly mutating into a scream and a shout and something far closer to a shriek. The water was cold. And everywhere.

It shot into Emma’s mouth and up her nose, trying to breathe despite the distinct lack of oxygen and she flailed like she’d just been thrown over the side of a ship instead of falling off her husband’s shoulders while playing the world’s most ridiculous pool game.

She sputtered as soon as she crested back up, breathing heavily and…Killian smiled at her. Broadly. His hair was everywhere, strands stuck to his forehead and, somehow, below his right eyebrow, drops of water falling from his jaw line and the tip of his nose.

There was the start of a bruise on his arm.

“Did I do that?” Emma asked, reaching out and that might have been her biggest mistake, because it only made it easier for him to pull her flush against his chest. And kiss her. While he was still smiling.

She could briefly make out Anna’s grumbled idiots.

Killian nosed at her cheek, a nip to her lower lip and another kiss that threatened to make Emma’s knees wobble. More. They’d somehow, migrated to the deeper end of the pool.

“Liam’s got absolutely no control of his limbs,” Killian mumbled, and she didn’t remember moving her arms around his neck.

She wasn’t really treading water.

That was nice.

“Yeah, so, we’re not doing that,” Will announced. “I refuse to reach this level of Jones insanity.”

Emma hummed, letting her forehead rest against Killian’s. “That’s fair. You ok, though?”

“Better,” Killian promised. “Gina, give me back my kid.”

Regina didn’t need to be told twice, moving Matt back into Killian’s arms and those kicks weren’t quite as strong as Liam’s, but it was something else about genetics and happiness and, probably, the overall state of the summer. The pool was nice. And the sun was warm.

And 1776 was, it appeared, a very good way to get their kid to fall asleep, Emma curled against Killian’s side hours later with Matt’s eyes closed and John Adams singing in the background.

[hollowgroverp]

“I’m Mayor Novak and I’d like to welcome you to the 32nd annual Spring Fling! Today we have twenty-one very charitable suitors who have willingly offered up their day for a wonderful cause. The Displaced Children’s Fund, to support supernatural children displaced by the cruelties of our world is a cause close to so many of us. All proceeds from today’s event will go to the fund. Now settle in and will begin the bidding momentarily….”

Below the cut you will find the 21 baskets that were submitted for the event. Bidding will take place until SUNDAY MAY 26th, at which point the bidding will close and then I will pair up the bids with basket. We will do my best to ensure everyone gets matched up with someone. If you would like a certain pairing based on plot reasons let me know and we can see what can be done to make it happen. If you have multiple characters I will do my best to ensure at least one of your characters gets paired for a basket.

How to bid: Comment on this post with your characters name and their three bids. If you bid you must place three bids to ensure we can make proper pairings. ex: Sophia Greyson bids on basket 1, 4, and 15. If you do not follow the bidding rules ie: you bid once or you send an ask, your bid will not be considered.

When will the picnics take place: Picnic dates, can take place any time after bidding concludes on Saturday (in game), this includes during the event or post event. These threads can carry on after the event ends but we encourage you to reach out to your pairing and plot.

                                 FINALLY, HAVE FUN WITH IT!

Baskets

Basket One submits a black wicker picnic basket with a red ribbon tied into a bow to hold the handles closed. Inside you’ll find the following: fresh baked bread from the bakery, a blueberry pie from the bakery, a can of whipped cream, a cold roast chicken, a bottle of decent red wine, atop a soft dark blue flannel blanket, and cutlery and plates.

Basket Two submits a wicker basket with red and gold pattern cloth lining the base and two matching silk ribbons tied in bows at the base of either side of the handle. Inside you’ll find the following: two glass bottles full of honey (some honeycomb included), several small pots filled with edible berries, strawberries, gooseberries, blackberries) and several more filled with edible plants: fireweed, daylily petals & chicory; attached is a small card with ‘all sourced from the local forest.

Basket Three submits a watermelon shaped and colored vintage basket with a white rose laying on top. Inside you will find: a deck of Uno cards, Twister, whip cream, two bowls of fresh fruit salad, a bottle of white wine, two homemade pepperoni pizzas, a fluffy blanket, two pairs of ridiculous looking sunglasses, one heart shaped and one alien shaped.

Basket Four submits a black wicker basket with a red bow. Inside you will find: A Fully white blanket rolled up next to a bouquet of white roses, two bottles of red wine, two crystal glasses, a cheese plate with different kinds of cheese, grapes, a box of Belgian chocolates. As well there are two envelopes in it, one red and one back with a note ‘your choice conquers all’.

Basket Five submits a black and gray duffel bag. Inside you’ll find the following: a black and white checkered flag, a pair of black leather driving gloves, a black leather jacket, sunglasses, and a menu for a lavish casino that offers exclusive dining services. Foods such as lobster, steak, pasta, and various delicacies are described in detail for you to choose from. The option to enjoy a private table outside on the balcony is circled in red, and a few casino chips worth one hundred dollars each have also been thrown into a side pocket.

Basket Six submits a large, insulated picnic basket with bright red fabric and black trimming. Inside you’ll find the following: double chocolate banana muffins, two berry parfaits in glass jars, a mix of colorful fruits, deviled eggs, two ham and cheese croissants, lemon bars, and two water bottles. A brochure for a zoo a few miles out from town is placed with the food, along with two certificates for a behind-the-scenes tour that includes a chance to meet some of the animals.

Basket Seven submit a brown wicker basket with a ribbon attached to the handle bearing sigil of House Mormont. Inside is a cherry pie, two chocolate pudding cups, a gift card to the local bowling alley, a bottle of whiskey with two solo cups, a copy of A Hitchiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, a box of cards against humanity, and a red blanket.

Basket Eight submits a brown picnic basket lined with a green apron that reads “Kiss Me, I’m Irish”. Inside you’ll find the following: two cans of Guinness, a loaf of Irish soda bread, and a box of Butler’s Irish Whiskey Truffles.

Basket Nine submits a brown wicker basket lined with a light brown scarf. Inside you’ll find the following: fancy chocolates, a bottle of red wine, and two glasses.

Basket Ten submits a classic wicker basket lined with red cloth. Inside is a container of fruit salad, assorted sliced cheeses, meats, and crackers, some homemade pizza bagels, and a six pack of beers. For dessert, everything needed for s'mores.

Basket Eleven submits a chestnut brown willow basket with a single rose resting on top. Inside you’ll find the following: A jug of bourbon punch, a bottle of white zinfandel, a folded red blanket, two steaks, antipasto skewers, kale caesar salad, blackberry cheesecake brownies, and chocolate dipped strawberries. Rose petals are sprinkled inside the basket and there’s a small stuffed bear holding a heart that says ‘be mine’.

Basket Twelve submits black ash basket wrapped in a red satin bow that is holding a rose on top. Inside is an isolated compartment that is holding two bread bowls filled to the bring with pasta, one chicken alfredo, one spaghetti, and meatballs. Two garden salads, breadsticks and dipping sauce, and cheesecake.  There is a bottle of Sangria and a bottle of tequila, two shot glasses and two wine glasses. There is also a picture of the back of a pickup truck filled with pillows facing an outdoor movie screen and the breakfast club playing on the screen, a sticky note is attached that reads ‘netflix and chill?’ jk I don’t really get what that means’ . There is also a baggy full of movie snacks and popcorn. 

Basket Thirteen submits a vintage white picnic basket with a brown clasp. It’s insulated and lined with dark red cloth. Inside you’ll find the following: A bottle of expensive white wine, two wine glasses, grilled salmon, grilled honey mustard chicken skewers, grilled artichokes with harissa-honey dip, radish tartines, and pear cakes cut into heart shapes. Two small sailors’ hats are tucked on the side and a note that reads “Sail away with me” in cursive handwriting.

Basket Fourteen submits a dark brown wicker basket with a navy blue blanket held to the side with leather straps. Inside you’ll find the following: a bottle of Nosotros wine and two crystal wine glasses, classic lobster rolls, handmade spring vegetable pizza, spring greens Caesar salad, brownies and lemon cookies. There are also two sets of hand-made movie tickets, one copy of Pride & Prejudice and one of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.

Basket Fifteen submits a simple grey plastic laundry basket (one you might find in the walmart home-good section), with a black and white checker sheet folded in the bottom. Inside you’ll find the following: One bottle of Woodford Reserve Whiskey 1.0L, one can of bug spray, one bottle of SPF 30, two pairs of thick wool socks, four expertly made ham and cheese sandwiches, one large refillable water bottle, two black and white striped beach towels, a box of Cheez-It’s, and a bag of Sour Patch watermelon gummy candy.

Basket Sixteen submits a light brown wicker basket with an off-white lining at the top and a dark brown top. Inside you’ll find the following: A jug of freshly made lemonade, A jug of ice coffee, two empty mason jars for cups, steak tacos, Tostitos chips, medium salsa, cucumber tomato salad, and two slices of lemon meringue pie. The green and white checkered blanket is folded at the very bottom. There are two neon mini golf balls in one of the inside pockets.  

Basket Seventeen submits a medium sized white basket. Inside you’ll find the following: peach gummy candy, kettle corn, red wine, a fuzzy blanket and a pair of fuzzy socks, two sandwiches, cheese and crackers, colouring book & crayons and a pack of cigarettes

Basket Eighteen submits a large wicker basket with a blue picnic blanket. Inside you’ll find the following: watermelon, apples, homemade banana bread, chocolate chip cookies, red & white wine, two BLT sandwiches, a bouquet of tulips and a book of riddles.

Basket Nineteen submits a cherry coloured Peterboro Traditional picnic basket lined with blue gingham. Inside you’ll find the following: a decanter of blood, a bottle of good single malt Scotch, sheet music for Mozart’s Violin Concerto No. 3, and one apple.  

Basket Twenty submits a brown wicker basket lined in red and white plaid. Inside you’ll find the following: a blanket with a bear skin rug pattern, an enormous Cuban sandwich, a bag of coffee beans, potato salad, a fifth of whiskey, and half a dozen snickerdoodles.  

Twenty One submits an antique wash willow hamper lined in dark red. Inside you’ll find the following: a bottle of Dom Perrignon champagne, a bottle of Labella’s finest wine, two champagne flutes, two wine glasses, two China plates, a removable cooler bag containing an assortment of fine meats and cheeses, a board on which to set out the meats and cheeses, various boxes of different kinds of crackers, and chocolate covered strawberries for dessert.

[i-writeandread-blog]

A Portrait of a Tortured You and I - Chapter 3

I had the bungalow to myself, but that's only because the VIP didn't sell out, otherwise, I'd have had a roommate.  I took advantage of the private bathroom and cleaned up properly.  I was distressed by my upgrade.  Not because I wasn't happy to experience it, but because I didn't need it nor want it.  Sure, I loved the band and I was a bit of a Jared girl.  But after fawning over him for the first five or so years, I became more realistic and began just to solely appreciate what Mars was all about; community, art, music, friendship, fun, connection.  The eye candy aspect was there always, but wasn't anything more than just a nice thing to look at.  I had been blessed through the years to have done numerous meet & greets, and was even around during the Artifact days getting the opportunity to go to the screening.  Heck, I was even at the Hive the night of the bomb threat.  This was probably why I was always broke. I spent all my money on Mars.

So these things afforded me opportunities to meet the band numerous times.  I just couldn't justify spending over $10,000 dollars to have even more access to Jared.  I could spend that money on four camp mars trips, rather than just one.  Not that I had access to that amount of cash in one sitting ever.  But, the point was someone spent it on me... and I didn't deserve it.  It should have been someone who never had the opportunities that I have had.

I got dressed and made my way out the door just in time for the vip welcome wagon to come around so they could let us know what was in store for us.  There was a total of 17 of us.  I was surprised that many people had shelled out the money to do this.  I knew only three of them. I wasn't surprised by them, they always did the most expensive packages.  I had no idea what they did for a living, but I wondered what it was.

We were escorted down to the stage area, where they had roped off a small area right at the stage for us. Since everything was outdoors and in an open area, anyone on the island already would be able to see the soundcheck, but they had sectioned off a perimeter of about 60 feet around the stage so no one could get too close to the action. It all seemed so strange to me. Paying so much when at 61 feet away you can see the exact same thing, but to each their own. I guess.

I shouldn’t have been letting it nag at me the fact that someone did this, but I should explain why it bothered me in more depth. I had been an Echelon almost since the inception of the band. I went to events, met so many interesting people, became friends with some. The usual stuff, I did some light street teaming, but I was always sort of in the shadows. I have a very outgoing personality, but for some reason I stayed pretty much to myself. I knew the familiar faces. Waved and nodded. Spoke to a few here and there. But Mars was very personal to me. I was drawn to them for reasons I couldn’t begin to explain to an outsider. For me, when Jared says, “it’s only for those who understand,” I have to say that is a million percent true. I’m sure every Echelon feels the same way and we all have our private reasons (or public) for why we needed them in our lives. But because I stayed to myself, I always felt like I knew everyone, but no one knew me. Even on social media... I knew of people, but I didn’t engage with them. For every outspoken “fan” like Natalie, there were probably 5 of me. It didn’t make sense. I wasn’t a part of that outspoken and well known clique.

Then another thing was the idea that I was being pitied. I knew I was a victim. I was a weak person. I didn’t want others to know it. No matter how strong I tried to be, I just wasn’t. I was disappointed that I would have to pass on Croatia, but I was certainly not wanting any charity. Yet, I received it anyway. From a total stranger, who I assume knows nothing about me.

The last reason, and Shayla picked up on it right away was the tiny bit of fear that I was being lured here, only to be hurt... whether it be emotionally or physically. I never didn’t feel safe around Mars, but I think it was a combination of the attack on me and then the way Natalie had treated me online -when I told everyone what happened- that made me no longer feel at “home.”

And yet here I am, feeling like I have to enjoy the package for all it is and get this persons money’s worth and that felt crippling. I felt like I was being forced to vacation, if that even makes sense. And don’t get me wrong, I do want to have fun, let my hair down and let loose. It was my favorite band. The only band I truly ever listened to and was so loyal to. I loved them. Everything about them. Nothing about Mars had changed. It was me. I was different. I didn’t know how to reconcile with that. I wanted my old self back and I didn’t think it would ever be possible. I was angry.

What those boys took from me (and unjustly so, as I hadn’t been the one to refuse them service) was my identity. The only thing in this world that belonged to no one else. I was mad at them. I was mad at myself, for letting them win. If they saw me on the street they probably wouldn’t even know who I am. Would I recognize them?

I was snatched out of my daydream to the sounds of cheers. I looked up and both Shannon and Jared had walked onto the stage. Shannon waved at us with a drumstick in his hand and sat down at his set. Jared walked over to us. I was on the end furthest from him. He leaned down to shake everyone’s hand, having mini conversations as he went down the line. When he reached me, he took my hand in his and said, “long time no see kitty cat.” I responded with, “who’s fault is that?” Then he jumped down and hugged me. The embrace caused a gasp from a few around he and I.

I was used to Jared doing things like that. Like I said before, I’ve been around awhile. But never has he ever been so affectionate. Not to me at least. I was honestly surprised he even remembered my name. Of course, he was the one who came up with kitty cat. It happened a few years back. I was at a meet and greet. I think it was a show in Atlanta, and when I walked up, instead of the usual procedure where you say a quick hello and take an equally quick picture, then walk away... he said to me: “I think it’s high time we were properly introduced. In all these years, I’ve never caught your name. I wonder why that is. Anyway, I’m Jared.” He extended his hand to me. I shook it, swooning the whole time and responded with, “uhhh cat umm Catherine.” He laughed at my stutter and said, “cat, like kitty cat? Cute. I’ll see ya around.” Then I walked off. I “met” him at a few meet and greets after that, but he hasn’t referred to my name or nickname since. Until today.

He was always so charming on stage whether it was an actual show or a soundcheck and today was no different. He sang little bits from various songs, only singing full versions of a couple. In between each one he’d make a joke or two. He danced around, shook his butt, grabbed one of the girls and brought her up to sing a few lines of hurricane. He joked about how we could do the concert better than him. And then it was over. We were told that dinner would be served in about an hour and sent on our merry way.

At the last camps we served ourselves in a buffet line. I believed that was what we would be doing here as well. Usually everyone comes, grabs their food, tries to find a spot to eat, does that quickly and moves on. It’s not something to write home about. I think majority of us don’t even look forward to the food (it is delicious) because our minds are on having fun. So breakfast, lunch, and dinner are more about sustenance rather than a milestone event. I had a mini bar style fridge in my bungalow already stocked with snacks and was just going to grab something out of there. I didn’t want to be social just yet, and I was sort of still jet lagged from flying in a few days ago.

I laid down on a much softer bed than I had expected and brought up the notepad on my iPad. I felt like writing. I wasn’t sure about what just yet, but I felt like I could breakthrough my writers block and start something. After about 45 minutes and two chapters, I heard people milling around outside. I grabbed some chips out of the fridge and a can of coke. I didn’t want to stop since I was actually on a roll, but I didn’t want to not eat something as it had been hours since my early breakfast this morning.

I was mid way through a paragraph and had a chip dangling in between my lips when I looked up and saw someone standing there. I jumped. The bag and it’s contents flying everywhere. The look of pure terror written all over my body.

“I’m so sorry, Miss. I knocked several times.”

“It’s okay, I think. Umm can I help you?” I was ready to scream if need be.

“Your presence is required at dinner. And don’t worry about cleaning that up. Your butler will do that.”

“Butler?” I said quizzically.

“Yes, Miss. Each bungalow has a private butler. They’ll restock the refrigerator if needed and clean up. They’ll be bringing you fresh towels daily, and should you need anything they can help out. I’ll walk you to dinner.” I shook my head. “That’s okay, I think I know where to go.”

“No, it’s in a secluded area. Come, follow me.” She started walking fast and I struggled to keep up. She apologized and flagged down a golf cart. We hopped on and were whisked away and past the main pavilion where the diners were eating. It looked like the last ferry had arrived, but I wasn’t sure. We arrived at an area that looked very much off limits for the regular guests and she pointed to three tables down by the water. At each table were the other vip guests. “Here ya go, and please check your itinerary next time. Everyone is waiting for you.”

I walked down and heard light huffs and puffs as I got closer. Someone said, “you’re late and we are starving.” Jared stood up and said, “that’s not necessary. She’s here now and the food is still warm and tasty.” I looked around for a place to sit. The tables were arranged so that the table Jared was at was facing all of us. I noticed that each table setting had a name plate. I couldn’t see mine.

Jared laughed and pointed to a chair next to his. I shook my head no. He walked over and ushered me to it anyway. Whispering in my ear, “this is your seat.” Motioning to my name. I was sitting in between him and Emma. Shayla was on his other side.

“I don’t understand. The rest of the group is at the other tables. I’m not crew.” Jared waved his hands to stop me. “I didn’t make up the seating chart, that’s Emma’s purview. But I know enough to just follow what she says. A mad Emma is a force to be reckoned with.” He laughed. I looked out and everyone was glaring at me. “I really should go sit at one of the other tables. But before I do, I have to know... Jared did you arrange my trip here?”

He looked at me very puzzled and said, “what are you talking about?” Shayla looked at me dead in the eyes and shook her head no.

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