#like this a grown dude who likes to waste his dads money and get high and drunk going after teenagers and killing people

[the-witch-of-woods-beyond]

okay cause cheating is wrong, obviously. but some people are really out here going, no it’s okay that they’re a murderer who killed your family and ruined your life and straight up abus5ed you and also is significantly older than, no that’s okay they had a secret reason they never told you about and a tragic backstory - oh wait they cheated? how dare they????

like i’m sorry but cheating is not the worst thing in the world compared to what i listed above and sometimes in media it can actually be understandable why a character cheats but everyone calls them a monster - which yeah cheating sucks - but then turn around and in the same breath go, oh that terrible abus!ve p!ece of sh!t that’s hot and has a villain aesthetic but does sh!tty things for sh!tty reasons?? they’re my faveee how dare you hate them for valid reasons??

[chemist-ana]

The New Rules- Sams POV

Book: The Nanny Affair

Characters: Sam, Ana Schuyler (MC), Robin, Sofia, Mason Sr., Mickey and Mason

Pairing: Sam Dalton (male) x Ana Schuyler (MC)

Rating: 18+

Content Warning: Sexual Language, Adult Language, Sexual Situations

A/N This is a brand new series that I was inspired to write. I am going to go chapter by chapter in Sam Daltons POV. This story is completely inspired by Choices The Nanny Affair. I have used most of the dialogue from the actual story, anything written in BOLD was taken directly from the book and therefore is not my writing- credit to our good friends over at Pixelberry! All characters are credit to Pixelberry except for my OCs

Summary: Life with Sofia around isn’t easy, but we are determined to not let it get to us.

Word Count: 5018- I just can’t seem to control myself with this story.

Tag List: @txemrn @secretaryunpaid @lifeaskim @aussieez @pixie88 @thefrenchiemama @sfb123 @mainstreetreader @shewillreadyou @khoicesbyk @choicesficwriterscreations @lady-calypso

I rarely used to have sleepless nights. Now? They are the new norm. I always wake up before dawn, and try to run the sexual frustrations of my restless dreams of Ana out of my system. I should have known by now, months after introducing her into my everyday life, that running alone doesn’t seem to satisfy my craving of her.

I step out of the shower, feeling the all too familiar burn of my exhausted muscles. I place my hands on either side of my bathroom sink and eye my reflection in the mirror, noticing the dark circles that have formed under my eyes. I take a deep breath and shake my head, here we go again, duty and responsibility right Dalton? Who the fuck am I kidding?

I pad into the kitchen, desperate for a cup of coffee to kick start my clouded mind. I pause for a moment when I see Ana, barefoot in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for the boys. God, I could get used to this view. I think she senses my presence, because she looks up and flashes me her beautiful smile.

“Morning, Ana. Something steamy to start your day?” I ask as I grab the coffee pot and two mugs.

“You read my mind.” She responds with a smile.

I mix her a cup, a little sugar, a little cream. Just how you like it. I hand it to her, our fingers brushing for a moment before she takes it out of my hand. She takes a sip and her lips curve into a small smile.

“So, you are the kids are hitting Coney Island this afternoon?” I lean back on the counter, bringing my coffee to my lips with a grin.

“All the rides and games we can handle. Sure you can’t come?” She glances over her shoulder at me as she mixes the ingredients for breakfast. Waffles I assume, god she does love my boys.

“Tempting, but-“ I hear the elevator ding. The only person who would show up here this early is Sofia. Why didn’t she text me that she was coming over? I drop my shoulders and fight the urge to sigh, I just do not have the energy for this right now.

“Darling!” Sofia walks into the kitchen, setting a grocery bag on the counter and walking up to me, throwing her arms around my shoulders, what the fuck?

“Oh! Sofia, what are you-“

“Saying good morning to my boo-bear, duh!” She chimes, as she tries to pull me in again but I step back with a smile. My eyes flick over to Ana who is watching us with a frown.

“We have company.” I turn my attention back to Sofia and her eyes narrow at me.

“It’s just Ana.” She bristles.

“Yeah… I’ve lost my appetite anyway.” Ana moves to set her coffee cup down on the counter. Damn it Sofia.

“Ana, you don’t have to leave. This is your home too, and Sofia needs to remember that.” Boy I am going to be eating those words later… but Sofia just rolls her eyes at me.

“Whatever. I’m here to see Ana anyway.” Her lips turn up in a devilish grin as she turns her attention to Ana. “Grab me a cup of coffee, and let’s chat.”

I clench my jaw, and take a deep breath as I watch Ana’s face turn to annoyance.

“Sofia, we talked about this. It’s not appropriate to ask Ana to fetch you things.” I see Sofia’s shoulders stiffen at my words, but she turns to the coffee maker and pours herself a coffee. I watch as she purses her lips, clearly biting her tongue.

The boys come running into the room, perfect timing.

“Morning. What’s for breakfast?” Mason asks pushing his glasses up on his nose as he takes a seat at the bar.

“Oooo, waffles! Score!” Mickey smiles as he takes a seat next to his brother.

“I thought you boys could use a little treat for breakfast.” Ana grabs the plate piled high with waffles, a loving smile on her face. I watch her face turn to frustration as Sofia grabs the plate out of her hand.

“Hey!” Ana exclaims.

“Sofia, surely that’s not necessary-“ I try to diffuse the growing tension, but Sofia interrupts.

“This kind of unhealthy eating is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about, Ana.” Sofia says with a smile. Oh great, we don’t all want to eat your cardboard Sof.

“But waffles…” Mason looks at his brother, their excitement turning to anguish.

“Don’t worry, Mickey. I grabbed some fresh spinach and mushrooms to put in an egg white omelette for you and your brother.” Sofia removes the contents of her grocery bag onto the counter.

“I’m Mason.” I cringe at his tone but Sofia appears completely unaffected.

“That’s what I said.” She responds without even looking up.

You are making this so difficult Sofia… why can’t you just get it right? Her matter of fact tone sends a clear message, she doesn’t care. I try to catch her eye but instead she walks over to the trash can and dumps the fresh waffles right into the garbage. I pinch the bridge of my nose.

“Sofia!” Goddamn it.

“Nooooo!” Mickey calls out.

“Sofia! That’s so wasteful! You just threw out perfectly good food!” Red hot color is spreading up Ana’s neck, her fists balled up at her sides.

“We can afford it.” Sofia sets the dish into the sink and gives Ana a smirk.

“Food waste is about more than just money, you know.” I can see Ana’s knuckles turning white as the resentment in her tone grows.

“Sam, back me up here.” Sofia finally turns her attention to me with a challenging look. Oh fuck.

I look back and forth between Ana and Sofia. Shit shit shit, ok, diplomatic answer time Dalton.

“While I don’t agree with her methods… maybe Sofia has a point?” I think that was good?

“Really? Not you too…” Mason trails off. Not now Mason.

“Sam, I know you gotta defend your fiancee, but seriously?” Ana turns her blazing emerald eyes on me.

“We should try to eat a little healthier… as a family.” I give her a pleading look.

“See?” Sofia chimes with victory.

“But Sofia, you owe Ana an apology for throwing her breakfast out. That kind of behavior is not acceptable.” I turn my attention back to Sofia. She narrows her eyes at me and I can see her bite the inside of her cheek.

I clench my jaw, don’t back down Dalton.

Sofia slowly turns to face Ana and utters a quiet apology. God even Mickey could apologize better than that. I shake my head and turn my attention back to my coffee, which has grown cold. I set the mug on the counter.

“Can we still get cotton candy at Coney Island this afternoon, Dad?” Mason has disappointment written all over his face when I look up at him.

“Coney Island? That rat-infested germ factory? Absolutely not! Boys your age need to be educated, not entertained. There are plenty of museums you could go to instead.” Sofia places her hands on her hips and looks back and forth between Mason and Mickey.

I manage to stifle my aggravated laugh. Goddamn it Sofia.

“But Dad! You said we could go ages ago!” Mickey’s eyes widen as he looks between Sofia and I.

“Boys… Sofia is a part of this family now, and we have to respect the adjustments that might require.” I say imploringly. “Besides, a museum doesn’t have to be boring. You two loved it when Ana took you to the planetarium, right?”

“That was totally different.” Mickey looks down at his empty plate.

“Yeah, no one promised we could go to Coney Island first.”

I bite my lip in frustration with a shake of my head. It's going to be a long day.

***

“Isn’t your father back in town now?” Sofia asks breaking me from my thoughts.

I bite the inside of my cheek and take a deep breath. Why did I agree to ride with her again?

“Yes.” I answer without breaking my focus on the people walking down 5th Avenue.

“Sam, darling, you better not be upset about this morning.” She purrs as she places her hand on my thigh.

I turn my attention back to her.

“Sofia, I really would rather not talk about it. I have other things on my mind.” I turn my gaze back to the window. Like Robin, my father, and our meeting this morning. I pull my leg out from under her hand right as the town car pulls to a stop outside of Dalton Enterprises. Perfect timing.

“Well alright, bye boo-bear!” She leans in and presses a soft kiss to my cheek.

“Bye, Sof.” I exit the town car before her driver can open the door, stepping out into the humid morning.

***

I tap my pen against my desk, my mind racing. I glance down at my watch. Are they both actually late? I haven’t seen Robin since my engagement party, fuck, I hope he doesn’t bring up Ana in front of my father.

I hear my office door open and look up to see Robin, his usual cocky smirk plastered across his annoying face. I narrow my eyes at him and it makes him smile even bigger.

“Mornin’ Sammy. How is my favorite nanny?” He sits down in the leather chair across from my desk.

“Rob, I swear to god, leave her alone.” I clench my jaw and ball my hand into a fist on my leg.

He laughs and puts his hands up in defense.

“Sam, really dude? What is going on between you two anyways? Clearly she is into you, you know that right?”

I don’t entertain his question with an answer, instead I look down at the quarterly numbers.

“Sam. What the fuck? You do know. Dude, what are you doing? You are going to be the one to hurt her. I should be telling you to leave her alone.”

“You have no idea what you are talking about.” My eyes fly up to his.

My office door opens again, and I look over Robin's shoulder to see my father enter the room. I turn my gaze back to Robin and shake my head. He gives me a scoff and looks up at the ceiling.

“My boys, it feels good to be back in the city.” My dad takes a seat in the chair next to Robin, looking between the two of us. “What? Did I interrupt something?”

“Did you know Sam got a new nanny for the boys?” Robin places his hands on his knees and leans back in the leather chair. “She is pretty great, isn’t she Sam?”

My whole body stiffens at his words. I clench my jaw and bite the inside of my cheek. Fuck I want to punch that look off of your play boy face, you ass hole. My dad shifts his attention to me.

“Thats great Sam. We want to meet her, I will have your mother call you later to arrange that. Let’s get down to business, shall we?”

***

When I get home that evening, I find Sofia in the kitchen. I walk up and place a soft kiss on her cheek.

“Are the boys home yet?” I set my stuff down on the bar.

“Nope, just you and me. By the way, this house was full of junk food. I took care of it though.” She makes a point to brush her hands as if she was cleaning up a mess. She walks up to me and wraps her arms around my waist pressing her hips into mine. I look down at her brown eyes.

“Soon this will be our home together Sam, I just want everyone to be on the same page.” Sofia bats her eyelashes at me.

“I get it, let’s just take it one day at a time okay? These boys are dealing with a lot of major changes, we need to be a little forgiving.” I lean down and kiss the top of her head. I pull away from her embrace and grab the New York Times off of the counter. “I am going to go read this.”

I take a seat on the couch, my eyes settling on the darkness that is settling over Central Park. I am lost in the transformation that happens between the day and night in this city. I have lived here for damn near my entire life, but I still can appreciate this view. I hear the elevator ding, and then the sound of footsteps echoing through the penthouse. I look up and my eyes land on Ana.

“You’re back. How was your day-“

“We went to Coney Island, and it was the best day of my life!” Mickey interrupts with the biggest smile on his face.

“Don’t tell Aunt Sofia. Okay, Dad?” Mason walks up next to his brother with a matching smile.

“Excuse me?” Sofia walks in behind them, her mouth twisted in anger.

“Uh, boys… why don’t you go start your bath?” I look between the twins and flick my eyes towards their bathroom.

“Dad, are we in trouble?” Mason asks his eyes growing wide.

“Not at all. I’ll come help you in a few minutes.” I give them both a reassuring smile and they turn and run out of the room, avoiding Sofia’s glare.

“You took them to Coney Island? After I explicitly told you not to?” I see Sofia turn her sights on Ana, her scowl deepening.

“Sofia they still had an educational day.” Ana doesn’t back down and color rises on her cheeks. “I taught them about physics and-“

“That’s not the point!” Sofia interjects.

“It seemed like the point this morning…” Ana takes a step towards Sofia, her hands balled into fists at her side.

“Calm down, Sofia.” Shit that usually has the opposite effect. “It sounds like the boys had a good day, plus they got to let off some steam after all these new changes.” I look at Sofia imploringly.

“Are you seriously siding with her?” Sofia wheels on me, narrowing her eyes.

“It’s not about sides. It’s about what’s best for Mason and Mickey.” I say calmly, trying not to get defensive. “And while art galleries certainly have their place in a well-rounded educational experience, I approve of Ana’s decision to take them to Coney Island today.” And I am their father. I hold my breath, gauging her reaction to my words. She stares at me for a moment, I assume because she thinks I am going to back down. I rise to her challenge and straighten my shoulders.

“Fine. I can tell when I’m not wanted.” She narrows her eyes at me one last time before turning on her heal and walking out of the room to call the elevator. Fuck, I am going to be answering for this later.

I take a deep breath as I watch her leave the penthouse, pinching the bridge of my nose and shaking my head. I turn my attention back to Ana, her emerald eyes trained on me.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go after her?” The corners of her lips turn up in a small smile.

“It’ll be better for everyone if I give her some space before we try to talk.” I bite my cheek to keep myself from matching her smile. “She’s gotta learn this relationship is going to have its compromises at some point.”

I cross over into the kitchen, inhaling the sweet scent of Ana as I graze by her. I fight the urge to wrap my arm around her waist and pull her delicious body to my chest. Instead, I open a bottle of merlot and pour us each a glass.

“So, Coney Island, huh?” Our fingers graze as she takes the wine glass from my hand, igniting that all too familiar spark. I lean against the counter and take a sip of the smooth wine.

“Yup.” Her eyes dancing with humor.

“You could at least pretend you feel bad about starting a fight.” I watch as her cheeks turn a rosy pink and she looks away with a smile.

“I could, but we both know you’d see right through me.” Her emerald eyes rise back to mine.

“True.” I admit, taking a deep breath. “Honestly, I’m glad you went. Sofia can be unreasonable, and she doesn’t get the boys… not like you. You make learning fun for them, and you let them be kids. I appreciate that.”

I finally notice the prize she has tucked under her arm.

“I guess the twins aren’t the only ones you let still be a kid.”

“Oh, this old thing?” She pulls the stuffed penguin from under her arm with a smile. “I got this for you.” She take a step towards me and boops me on the nose with it. Eva used to do that… it makes me laugh out loud as I look at it in my hands.

“I’ll think of you every time I see it.” I look back up at her eyes which have grown dark. I feel her gaze in my core. Goddamn it woman.”Seriously, Ana. Thank you.”

“Sam, I wish you could’ve been there. You were the only thing missing from an otherwise perfect day.” She studies my face for a moment before looking back down at the penguin in my hands..

“It would’ve been nice to enjoy the day with the twins… and you.” Like a real family. “Next time. I’lll fake sick. Promise.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.” Her eyes lock back on me.

I can’t help but stare into her eyes, and I hear her breath catch. The electricity arcing between us. Before I realize it, our bodies are only inches apart.

“Sam…” Ana whispers, her lips parting in anticipation. What are you doing Dalton? Robin’s words echo in my head. You are going to hurt this beautiful woman and its going to be all your fault.

“Dad, how full are we allowed to make our bath?” Mickey calls from the bathroom. A blessing in this moment before I do something else I am not supposed to…

The moment between us broken, Ana’s laugh echos in the room.

“You should probably go.”

I nod, searching her face. I wish I could tell her that we can’t do this… but the words die on my lips. I leave to finish the routine with the boys, her infectious laugh bringing a smile to my lips.

***

I glance at my bedside clock and groan. God, I am so hungry. I get out of bed and pull on my jeans and a plaid button down. I need to find something else to eat.

I pad out into the dark penthouse, flipping the lights on in the kitchen. I take a deep breath before digging into every cupboard, she had to have missed something, right? Nope. She got it all. I sigh before opening the fridge.

“Sam? What are you doing?” I jump slightly at the sound of Ana’s voice before shutting the door and focusing my attention on her.

“Same as you, I’m guessing. Searching for sustenance. Fair warning, it’s every man for himself out here.” I say with a mocking smile.

“Are you threatening to eat me?” She says her eyes growing wide.

I take a moment to appreciate her pajamas, the way her yoga pants hug her curves and the thin sheer fabric of her t shirt exposing her hard nipples.

“I wasn’t thinking about that, but now that you’ve mentioned it…” I see her blush at my words and she gulps, which makes my cock twitch. I know you taste sweet beautiful girl, but I need more tonight. “Seriously, though, you don’t have nearly enough gluten to satisfy me right now.”

I turn my attention back to the kitchen, closing all the cupboards with a sigh.

“Giving up?” Ana leans her hip on the counter.

“Going out. I’m thinking of sneaking off for a burger and fries… maybe a slice of pie… definitely a milk shake.” I look back to her.

“You’ll have to burn any leftovers.” She says with a smile.

“Oh, there won’t be any leftovers. Would you like to come with? The boys are asleep, and I’m sure Carter can hold down the fort while we’re gone. I think we both could use a little something sweet to tide us over…” Plus I wouldn’t mind spending an evening out with you…

She bites her lip and gives me a small nod.

“Let me go change first.” She turns quickly on her heels and leaves the room.

I type out a quick text to Carter and meet Ana in the foyer. We take the quick ride down to the street which is still bustling with people.

“Dare I ask where you’re taking me?” She smiles as I place my hand on the small of her back leading her down the street.

“You can ask… but I won’t tell. It’s a surprise.” I glance sideways at her with a smile.

“I’m not so sure I like surprises.” She says in a defeated tone. If only all surprises were as good as you.

“Really? I’ve recently come to like them.” I wrap my fingers around her waist as we dodge oncoming pedestrians.

“You mean like when Sofia surprised you on your birthday?” She looks up at me.

“God no, I was thinking more about when you suddenly appeared in my life…” I look down at her to see her lips spread wide in a smile. There’s that beautiful smile. “Ah, here we are.” I stop in front of Clements and open the door, ushering Ana inside.

“Ohmygod, is this heaven?” I watch Ana’s eyes flutter closed as she inhales the smells.

Close beautiful, especially being here with you.

The waitress gives us the go ahead to sit wherever we would like and I follow Ana to a corner booth in the back. I slide into the booth and Ana slides in right next to me, settling so our bodies are touching. I hear her sigh and I look down at her, a content look on her face as her eyes wander around the small diner.

“Comfy?” I ask her quietly.

“Very. I could stay like this forever.” She looks back over at me, her emerald eyes shining. Oh beautiful there are a lot of other ways I would rather spend forever with you, like on top of you, or under you.

“Really? There are a few other positions I’d prefer… although all of them do involve having you in my arms.” I remark, a familiar surge of desire shooting through me. ‘

Her eyes darken in response and I see her clench her thighs together, you have the same effect on me.

“What can I get started for you?” The waitress brings me out of my fantasy.

“What are the specials today?” I ask turning my attention to her.

“We’ve got the Sweetheart Special right now. Perfect for a couple like you two, if you’re interested…”

“Us? A couple? You caught us!” Ana says quickly before I have a chance to respond. I look at her out of the corner of my eye and I see her lovely smile. She reaches for my hand and we intertwine our fingers together. “We’re newlyweds, actually.”

I will play this game with you.

“Yeah, I can’t imagine my life without her.” I pull our locked hands onto my lap and flash her a loving smile, your hand feels perfect in mine.

“Makes sense! You have that glow about you.” The waitress looks between us writing something down on her pad. “Consider the Sweetheart Special on the house.”

I order the rest of our meal, and as the waitress leaves, an uncomfortable silence descends on our table. I can feel the nervous energy pouring off of Ana as she avoids my gaze.

“You doing okay over there?” I look over at her, our hands still intertwined on my lap, her gaze focused on the table.

“Totally! I was just thinking about how I’ve never been here before. It’s nice. I cook all he time, but it always tastes better when someone else does it for you. Especially if your cooking is terrible. Which maybe mine is. Ohmygod, I never asked you guys, I just assumed-“ Ana’s cheeks have turned rosy as she answers my question. She’s nervous Dalton, why?

“Whoa, whoa, slow down.” I give her hand a squeeze and I watch her take a deep breath. “It’s just me, Ana. You don’t have to be nervous.”

“Sam, I can’t help it. You’re you, and I’m me!”

“Exactly. We’ve had tons of conversations, just the two of us. Nothing’s changed.” Except everything is different right now, I know…

“This is… well, it’s different. It’s not the same as all the other times we’ve talked before.” Her eyes have grown wide as she finally looks up into mine.

“‘Cause we’re at a diner?” I ask casually.

“‘Cause we’re basically on a date.” She puts emphasis on her last word and her face drops as she looks back at the table. “And you’re still engaged to Sofia.”

She pulls her hand away from mine and places them in her lap. I watch her wring her fingers together for a moment. God, I definitely didn’t mean to make you upset… comfort her asshole. I take a breath and bring my arm around her shoulders, she immediately leans into my touch with a soft sigh. You fit so perfect…

“I’m sorry, Ana. I was being insensitive to your feelings. I didn’t invite you out here to make you feel bad. I just wanted to treat you to a piece of pie, promise.” And I wanted to spend time with you… alone… like a ‘normal’ couple.

“I know, it’s just… it’s all so confusing.” She responds quietly.

I know she was about to say more when the waitress returns to the table, setting down a large strawberry milkshake and two straws. When she leaves my eyes return to Ana’s face, hoping she will elaborate.

“Sam, let’s just enjoy the night. Starting with this milkshake.” She leans away from me, grabbing a straw and taking a sip.

“Are you sure?” I narrow my eyes at her slightly, not convinced she is alright.

“Positive. Dibs on the cherry.” She says with a laugh as she pops the cherry in between her pink lips. God I can think of something else I want to put between those pretty pink lips. The thought makes my cock twitch. The waitress returns with the rest of our meal and I watch the smile spread on Ana’s face. So beautiful…

“I was right, this is heaven.” She surveys the burger and fries.

“Wait ’til you try the pie.”

We eat in a comfortable silence, the nervous energy from earlier suddenly gone.

“Wow, you really don’t know how much you miss sugar until it’s completely eradicated from your diet.” Ana sits back with a sigh.

“In the future, we’ll just have to satisfy our sugar craving in other ways…”

“Oh? Got something particular in mind?” She looks up at me, her emerald eyes darkening.

Oh you know what I mean, beautiful. The waitress shows up with the pie, removing our empty plates and setting it down between Ana and I with a smile. Ana’s eyes never leave mine.

“You’re not getting out of answering that easily.” Her voice laced with desire.

“You already know exactly what I’m thinking, Ana.” I clench my jaw and lower my eyebrows. I watch her breath catch and a blush creep up her neck at the intensity of my gaze. I turn my attention to the cherry pie. I can see Ana’s eyes still trained on me as I take a bite of the pie.

“I want…” Her voice trails off.

“What do you want, Ana? Tell me, and it’s yours.” I look into her eyes.

“I want you to feed me.” She says breathlessly.

“Consider your wish granted.” I take another piece of pie and lift it up to her lips. She opens her mouth and a surge of desire shoots through me.

“Ohmygod…” She moans her eyes fluttering shut. Fuck you are making me hard, and you have the smallest bit of cream on your lip.

“You’ve got a little something on your lip.” I lean towards her, inhaling her scent, and reach my thumb up to wipe the cream from her lip. Before I have a chance to move away her tongue darts out of her mouth and licks my thumb. Fuck. I moan her name as I reach out and place my hand on her cheek. Her eyes flutter shut again, her long eyelashes fanning across her delicate skin. I can imagine you taste so sweet right now… cherries and Ana…

Suddenly my phone buzzes on the table. Ana’s eyes fly open and she leans back in the booth. I grab my phone to silence the incessant noise with a loud sigh.

I clear my throat when I see its my mother calling.

“Hello?”

“Hello Sam darling, your father told me that you have a new nanny for the boys.”

“Oh… yes. I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

“Robin told your father that she is quite the young lady and great with the boys.”

“Yeah, she’s great.” My eyes flick to Ana as she stares at me quietly.

“We want to meet her, and of course I want to see my grand children. Why don’t you guys come to the club next week?”

“You want to… Next week? A-alright, Mom. See you then.” Shit… goddamn it Robin.

“Ciao, Sam and say hi to the boys for me.”

I hang up the phone with a sigh. My eyes meet Ana’s.

“What was all that?” She eyes me curiously finishing another bite of pie.

“My parents. They want to meet you.”

I turn my eyes to the people walking by outside the window… fuck.

[watchingspnagain]

Rewatching Bloody Mary

Welcome to “Why is Truth or Dare Even a Thing?!: A Supernatural Rewatch Blog” with Lor and Mace!

 Up today, s1e5: Bloody Mary.

Sam and Dean find themselves trying to clean up after some teen-girl Bloody-Mary slumber-party nonsense, because of course Mary is real and so are the liquified eyeballs she leaves behind. Sam has Winchester Guilt and faces up to the man in the mirror. Both boys accumulate 600 years of bad luck.

 Below is a log of our real-time reactions as we watched. Remember that there may be spoilers for any part of SPN’s 15-season run here.  Note also that the nature of our conversation is adult and thus it may contain adult language and themes.

 [and we begin:]

 Lor:

pre-emptively gets behind the couch

 Mace:

snork! YEP

Mace:

I NEVER understood this logic. I mean, WHY say it? Just...WHY

 Lor:

RIGHT?

OR you could be a father who has any idea what your twelve year old and her friends are up to?

 Mace:

HA

 Lor:

what is this house with its lights that do not light things?

 Mace:

Right?

 Lor:

ooof, poor Sam

 Mace:

poor Sammy and the bad dreams

Lor:

"sooner or later we're gonna have to talk about this" WHAT WAS THAT, DEAN? WHAT?

 Mace:

HAHAHA

the theme this ep seems to be People Doing Things in Dark Rooms When There Are Perfectly Good Electricity Going to Waste

 Lor:

lololololololololol

 Mace:

DEAN WINCHESTER JUST SAID COLUMBUS

 Lor:

lolololol he did

 Lor:

"I'm gonna hit him in his face, I swear"

 "dude I earned that money" "you won it in a poker game" "yeah"

pets him I know you work hard, Dean

 Mace:

i mean technically that counts as work

 Lor:

it DOES

 Lor:

was that a HOSPITAL? hospitals are lit up like the sun

 Mace:

well so is the OUTSIDE generally, and yet here we are

 Lor:

lololololol

yeah

 Mace:

They're taking this particular filter a little too far, really

 Lor:

yer right, though, it does nice things to the freckles

 Mace:

it does

 Lor:

"your dad didn't say it, did he?" I love him

 Mace:

Dean telling the girl it's not her fault when he knows it is

total sweetheart

 Lor:

YES

 Mace:

HE JUST TURNED THE LIGHT ON AND IT GOT DARKER IN THERE I SWEAR

 Lor:

Lolololololol

 "we had to go to the bathroom" lolololol

 Mace:

snork!

 Sammy's hoodie zipped up all the way SIGH

 Lor:

YES

and Dean's slightly floofed hair

 Mace:

YES

I LOVE it when they go to a library

 Lor:

YES

 Mace:

Jill is a dumbdumb

 Lor:

ug, this girl needs to get better friends

 Mace:

we all have that one friend

it's inevitable

 Lor:

Yeah

 "because I'm an awesome brother"

"lollipops and candy canes" omg

 Mace:

YES

 Lor:

He looks awful nice sitting there with that book on his lap

 Mace:

he does

 aw, Sammy has his soft voice on I LOVE IT

 Lor:

YES

 the old sneaking hunters into the house through the window trick

 Mace:

if I had a nickel...

 Lor:

LOL

 "do I look like Paris Hilton?" DEAN

 Mace:

Paris Hilton, Dean? Oh honey

DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF?

 Lor:

he either does NOT or he really really DOES

 Mace:

AGREED

Where's an angel to tell him he looks hotter than Paris any day of the week when you need him

 Lor:

RIGHT?

 Mace:

look how big his eyes look there

cripes

 Lor:

RIGHT?

and that stupid blue glow on his beautiful dumb face

 Mace:

YES

mirrors are a true reflection of your soul...I love this with Dean and his relationship with mirrors throughout

 Lor:

YES

i love how sam and dean communicate with looks like that

 Mace:

YEP

yes, why WOULD you do that

cripes

 Lor:

REALLY needs to get better friends

 Mace:

she DOES

okay I don't get this part - she didn't say it so why is it after her?

 Lor:

cause she was there? I guess? I dunno. it went after the dad when he didn’t' say it either

 Mace:

oh right HA!

I'm so smart

 Lor:

Lololol

 Lor:

THE ANTENNAE WITH THE TEETH

 Mace:

YES

 there's that soft voice again

 Lor:

YES

does this girl not have parents? she's in high school and she has two grown dudes just hopping in and out of her bedroom

 Mace:

how is she not a puddle on the floor?!

HAHAHAHA

 Lor:

a very good question

oh. this is their hotel room. EVEN BETTER

 Mace:

snork!

 Lor:

Dean's reaction. the way he kind of pulls back just a little when she says the dude threatened to kill himself

 Mace:

Yeah

 Lor:

Dean's not about blaming her, bless him

 Mace:

YES

 "she'll come after me" oh SAMMY

 Lor:

stand by. he's about to brother

 Mace:

SNORK!!

 Lor:

oh Dean "blame me instead" jeeez

 lol Dean's ears got in on that eyebrow raise

 Mace:

HA

ugh I get SO much more nervous for them when cops are involved than when monsters are

 Lor:

YES

omg Dean's head tilt at the name

 Mace:

HAHAHA Dean's bluff game really improves over the years

 Lor:

it really does

 Mace:

oooo evil mirror Sam

NICE

 Lor:

"like I said, I was adopted"

YES

 that's a nice unintentional foreshadow of some later stuff

 Mace:

OH RIGHT the reveal of Sammy's dreams! I forgot that was here

 Lor:

yeah

"Sammy!" "It's Sam" oh, my boys

 Mace:

Yeah, you're never gonna win that one, Sammy

 Lor:

oh NOPE

gah I forgot she CLIMBS OUT OF THE MIRROR

 Mace:

CREEPY

 Lor:

behind the couch behind the couch behind the couch

 Mace:

UGH and the jerky movements THANKS I HATE IT

 Lor:

WHY DO DEAN'S EYES BLEED

what is his secret?

 Mace:

if Dean's breathing he's feeling guilty about something

 Lor:

HA! true

 Mace:

but lookit how SMART he is showing her the mirror

pats him

 Lor:

YES

such a wee genius

"this has gotta be like, what, 600 years bad luck" DO NOT TEMPT THE FATES LIKE THAT, DEAN WINCHESTER

 Mace:

"600 years of bad luck" and how many times in the show does he say that they just can't catch a break?

 Lor:

right?

 they should write that down and tape it to each other's foreheads

 Mace:

the least believable part of this episode? That Charley never got caught just staring at those two boys

Lor:

lol

 Mace:

HAHAHA

 Lor:

they get better at making it look like they are driving the car past actual things

 Mace:

Ha

 [after the episode ended:]

 Lor:

Dean is more willing to let Sam do things in these early episodes than I would expect/remember

no hissy fit when Sam wants to summon Mary bc she'll go after him?

 Mace:

yeah that's a good point

when does he turn completely mental about protecting Sam?

 Lor:

is it when Sam starts having the premonitions and the headaches?

 Mace:

is it once John whispers to him that me may have to kill Sam?

 Lor:

or not till after he dies the first time?

ooo, maybe then

we shall have to make note

 Mace:

Yeah

 Lor:

but I wonder if there's an element of "it's just ghosties" here. like, when they start to realize just how big everything is that they are going to be dealing with, maybe things change?

 Mace:

maybe

which would, then, be when John whispers to him...

 Lor:

yeah

[throtegote]

Bigfoot in Bots

(If you’d like to read this off my wix blog here’s the link:https://erikatriesall.wixsite.com/tlhodia)

I remember a friend advising me to get my prom shoes from Options and thinking, “yeah sure, let me just saw my toes off real quick,” because there is no way I could fit in anything there otherwise.

Hi, I’m Erika. And as you may have guessed by now, I have large feet.

No, I do not wear size 13 Nikes (men’s size 13 Nikes) but by comparison to most people in my country, at a size 9.5/10 UK, I’m substantially above average. Retailers and boutiques here stock shoe sizes from 1 to either 6 or 7 and the larger the size, the harder it is to find it. An 8 in the women’s section is a rarity and a 9 that isn’t sneakers or granny shoes? Get down on your knees and sing hallelujah because that’s a miracle. Size 10 is unheard of. It doesn’t help that there are no specialist stores for women’s shoes here either.

Although it’s easier to shop for shoes if you’re a guy (because the assumption is that because you are a man, you have larger feet than the average woman), if you are a male with a foot above size 9, welcome to the struggle circle, take a seat, because you too, will find it hard to find sizes here. My dad, who’s around size 11, like me, finds it easier to shop abroad. Unfortunately, my parents do not believe in shopping for clothing and accessories online.

I don’t blame these stores, because it’s a thing of supply and demand. If a lot of the population has tiny feet, then why waste cash on stocking large sizes? It’s all about money, and if everyone else is satisfied and buying, then they don’t really need mine. So, as you’d expect, I own a lot of sneakers from the men’s section or unisex, and all my nice-fitting girly shoes are likely imported (which I don't own a lot of because I need to be present at all times to try the shoes on and uh, trips are expensive.).  When I walk into a shoe store, I don’t browse until I ask a clerk what their maximum size in stock is. And that’s when I’m shopping in a place like South Africa because I’ve given up on shoe shopping in Botswana. I just don’t want to waste anybody’s time.

Shoe shopping used to be an absolute nightmare for me and even though there have been improvements in the local market, and I’ve gotten better at it with age, it’s still a frustrating experience. I kid you not; I used to shed tears while shopping as a nana. In my young girl’s brain, being told “oh, we don’t have your size” was on the list of the top 5 worst types of rejection. A lot of store clerks were nice enough to check in the back for a shoe I really liked but some would widen their eyes do the loud “*gasp* So big?! Ah! Men’s section is that side”.

That hurt like a bitch.

About two years ago we had a family trip to Kenya (which is where my dad is from, btw) and my dad had promised me I could get my prom heels in advance from there as well as other stuff because his sisters had larger feet than me growing up and they managed to get shoes with little difficulty. So our assumption was that Kenyan women have larger feet on average than those in Botswana. Yeah no, I still struggled. 4 whole shopping malls in one day and nothing. At my grown age, by mall number 3 I was blinking back tears and I just wanted to go back to the hotel and not waste any more of everyone's time. I felt played and betrayed.

My feet were one of my first insecurities and they’ve been a struggle to keep up with all my life. I just remember going from having normal feet for my age, to fitting very snug in my mom’s high heel shoes to only wearing men’s sneakers. In what felt like a minute.

And as a growing kid I probably pinched a lot on my parent's wallets because I'd outgrow a new pair of shoes in like three months. Oops.

I also remember getting teased quite a bit in primary school too, especially by boys. “Bigfoot” was iconic, I sort of fit all the criteria by being large footed and hairy “like a Sasquatch”. It didn’t help that at over 5"2 I was taller and bigger than a lot of my classmates. At the time it’d get to me so much because my feet were a new development that kept developing and as a kid, the last thing I wanted was to be registered as an anomaly or a freak. Unlike body hair or acne, there’s nothing you can really do about your height or the size of your feet and that fact devastated me. I don’t think any young girl wants to hear their crush referring to them as a gorilla. Just rip out my self-esteem and toss it in the trash on the way out, why don’t you?

Looking back, I think I intimidated a lot of boys in my classes, especially those who believed that there’s a direct correlation between shoe and penis size. (*puts foot next to mine*, “Bro if you were a dude you’d be packing!”… thanks, I guess?) They were probably mad that I was showing more “masculine” physical traits than them- but to be honest they were all little bitches. And that’s on fragile masculinity. jkjkjk... or am I?

Now I’m older and a lot more mature, so I’ve learned to accept my “Sasquatch” feet. I've also learned that they aren’t abnormal at all and in a lot of other countries I’d be able to go shoe shopping freely. As a matter of fact, as a species our feet are growing bigger with each decade on average. Unlike your weight or your haircut, you can’t change your bone structure to give you smaller feet.

Go ahead, tell those nanas that they’re just mad that you’d be packing shmeat if you were a guy. Flex on the girls who think shopping for shoes in the children's section at 16 is a personality trait. Wear those boots; trust me, you don’t look like a clown. Embrace the big feet. Take care of them. Sure, you slap the road when you walk but hey, you get places faster so that’s dope. Your feet don't define your femininity, no matter how many people will try to make you think so.

What’s your odd experience with shoe shopping/ big feet? We’d love to hear. Like, comment and follow for more stuff like this

xoxo

Erika

[ofelvie1]

✧ · ˚ . joe keery? nah, that’s just elvie croft. you know, they’re the twenty-four year-old tv show host from salem, massachusetts… still doesn’t ring a bell ? come on, dude ! they’re all over ME.MIAMI’S homepage. it’s impossible for them to stay off of it because of the fact that they’re super scatterbrained & obstreperous. they’re not all bad though, ‘cause they can be jocund & loyal too ! you can totally tell they’re a scorpio… it’s almost scary. look, if you want to remember them, just think of 80s horror, buckets of halloween candy, and green high top converse and you’ll be golden. ( he/him, cis male.  /  sam, 22, she/her, est. )

elvin tupelo croft was born on halloween day in salem massachusetts so yes, he was in fact born to be spooky.

his dad is the county district attorney and his mom owns a small shop in town, so he grew up in a typical suburban middle class setting.

from the beginning, his parents and teachers took note of how intelligent he was, excelling far beyond all of his other classmates like it was nothing and leading to speculation about just how smart he really is. as it turned out, he is in fact a genius with a genius level IQ and he could’ve been one of those child prodigies attending harvard at the age of twelve, but his parents are the best people ever very protective of him and felt like he would be better off sticking with peers his own age

he was also diagnosed with adhd as a kid and he’s managed it well for the most part thanks to being taught early on to be responsible about his medication

being the smartest kid in school with braces and glasses and big hair and weird interests didn’t help him win over many friends. in fact, his only friend back in the day was margo massey, his neighbor with whom he’s been inseparable since birth. everyone else either mercilessly bullied him or didn’t even know that he existed.

he and margo started uploading to youtube after he got a video camera for his 15th birthday. their videos were basically buzzfeed unsolved, with skeptical margo being the shane to the more credulous elvie’s ryan. they were an instant success, amassing subscribers in the hundreds, then thousands, and then millions. elvie knew right away that making this sort of content was what he wanted to do with his life, but his teachers and his parents didn’t take this interest very seriously and instead pushed him to attend college, which was understandable considering he graduated as valedictorian of his high school and with a perfect gpa

despite ivy league offers, elvie chose to attend the university of miami along with margo and logan palmer, who he would meet while attending school. he studied business and while he seemed like a total slacker and yes, party animal on the outside freshman beer pong champion of 2012 right here, he actually graduated early with his mba + concentration in accounting. we stan a genius!

it was near the end of their last year in college when elvie and margo were approached by a netflix producer who wanted to take the concept of their youtube channel and turn it into a series for the network and thus, ghost gallery was born.

the show runs about ten episodes a season which are released all at once a few days before halloween because that’s On Brand™ for them. the first season aired in 2017 i think and much like their youtube channel, the show was an instant hit. season 3 is airing this coming fall and to this day, the show remains one of if not the single highest rated show produced by netflix.

he and margo have separate youtube channels now and both update whenever they can which isn’t on a regular schedule or anything, but their subscriber count is probably higher than ever at this point.

and that’s about it! elvie’s nice but he’s a little out there and very high energy so he can be a little too much for people. however, he’s a very loyal friend so just let him talk your ear off about horror movies or the 80s or mothman and he’ll think you’re his new best pal!

fun facts !

loves horror movies, halloween, and scaring people. by the age of twelve he was getting full grown adults to scream and run away from him in terror while he just laughed and laughed bc it was the best thing ever to him.

it’s been a running joke all his life that he doesn’t seem to be afraid of anything and who knows? maybe he isn’t.

his other major interest? everything 80s. he’s constantly making 80s movie references in conversations that are often too obscure for most people to even catch.

he’s extremely rich because he just doesn’t spend a lot of money. he grew up poor enough to have the mentality that he can’t just go around wasting money on whatever he wants even though he very well could without even making a serious dent in his bank account. he very rarely splurges on anything at all

most people don’t actually know how smart elvie is because he intentionally plays dumb and he just happens to be really good at it. he’s not necessarily trying to fool people though bc it has more to do with the fact that he really doesn’t like being labeled as “smart” and that’s what he’s trying to avoid, but as a result he often blindsides people by going from seemingly clueless doof to sharp-witted cunning genius in .000000000000000000001 seconds flat.

very demisexual and very incapable of getting a date. not because he’s demisexual ofc, but because he’s a clumsy nerd who has absolutely no game whatsoever and 90% of the time when he’s ever asked someone out, they probably laughed right in his face. fortunately he’s able to have a sense of humor about it and he can, to his credit, often come across as being quite charming and endearing.

he’s basically this universe’s equivalent of matthew gray gubler

[kingdomofkitten]

The Wedding: Part 6: The Resolution

Ryuu: …*snoring*.....*moving a little* mrghm….hmm...hmm? Why does this bed feel…*opens his eyes*...wha…*looking around, feeling wood, and water* W-what the?!

Haida: Oh, good! You’re awake! There’s a fishing pole for ya.

Ryuu: WHA?! *he realizes...he’s on a raft, in a large body of water, next to the wedding venue* WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING OUT HERE?!

Haida: Fishing! What does it look like?

Ryuu: ….WHY am I fishing?

Haida: Because I figured it was high time you and I had a chat. You don’t want to see Retsuko?

Ryuu: ...no.

Haida: Alright. So you’ll see me.

Ryuu: I don’t get a choice, do I?

Haida: Well, unless you’re an athletic swimmer.

Ryuu: ...of course. I never get a choice until I push the right buttons.

Haida: Like how you didn’t want to be a part of the wedding?

Ryuu: Exactly. They just expect me to go along with it, just because I’m the younger brother. It annoys the hell out of me!

Haida: Huh. You’re reminding me a bit of myself at that age.

Ryuu: Yeah?

Haida: Yeah. I’m the youngest in my family. And...well, my sister was always kinda better at everything than me, and got a bit more attention than me. At the time, I did kinda resent her a bit. But...I guess over time, I came to realize she wasn’t all perfect, neither did she want to be. We started hanging out more, and things kinda simmered.

Ryuu: ….huh. Does she sometimes turn into a freakish monster, like mine?

Haida: Well, firstly, kinda rich coming from someone who literally turned into that yesterday.

Ryuu: Shut up.

Haida: Secondly, no. At least, not in the way Retsuko can be. She could be a bit...arrogant, I guess is the right word for it. She definitely has a lot of energy, like Retsuko, but she uses it up differently….was there a point to this? I can’t remember.

Ryuu: Look, if you’re trying to get into my good graces, or whatever, don’t bother.

Haida: ...look, dude. I get it. There’s some tensions going on. You don’t want anything to do with her. But like...that’s family, man. She doesn’t even hate you! She doesn’t know what she did to rub you the wrong way!

Ryuu: I thought she did? Last time we met up?

Haida: ….you mean what happened with Ryoko? That’s what did it?

Ryuu: Well...yeah.

Haida: Why’s that?

Ryuu: ...it’s just after that day, nothing ever felt right. I could just barely look at her the same way, ever again. It was like that with dad, for the longest time too. I just...thought he was doing something right. Like something was wrong with her...now I wonder if there’s something wrong with me too…

Haida: ….well….it depends on how you view it.

Ryuu: ...huh? I-look, I get it, you’re marrying my sister, but...you can’t be so biased that you can’t see the problems here.

Haida: Oh, I see them. I know what can happen. That doesn’t change my view on the whole thing.

Ryuu: ...why?

Haida: Because deep inside her rage, I know Retsuko for who she is, and who she wants to be. And both of those sides, I find to be absolutely wonderful. She may get super pissed off, and hard to control, but when she’s calm, and collected...she’s one of the kindest, joyous people I’ve ever had the good fortune of meeting. When she’s happy, it just warms me up so much. There are many times, either when she’s being a mother to Ikari, my girlfriend, my fiancee, or just being herself, that I could engrave into my memories because of how wonderful she is in my eyes. I know you and her don’t get along much, but there has to be at least one good memory with her, right? I hope so.

Ryuu: …...y-you know, yeah. Yeah, there was this one time.

Haida: Oh?

Ryuu: I was REALLY little. Like...1 or 2. Probably 2, I feel like that was when I started to really remember stuff. Me and Riko were outside playing, but a big storm was coming. The family was scrambling to get the house ready for the storm, and my mother picked us up. I guess she had to help dad, and was hurrying, because she just put me down on the floor. I just started walking around a little. I didn’t think much of anything, until I heard this loud bit of lightning. I was just so frightened, I screamed, and ran around, trying to find somewhere to hide. I just happened to be near Retsuko’s room, and so I hid under her bed. She happened to find me, and held me close to her. I was petrified of the thunder that was rumbling outside, but she managed to calm me down. It was weird, it was like I was suddenly so relaxed by her. I was at peace. Even as I kinda...I guess hated her, that memory still resonated with me. I often wondered why I kept that memory if I suddenly hated her so much.

Haida: ...maybe you didn’t after all?

Ryuu: ...I guess that would make sense. I don’t know. I-I probably messed up everything. I don’t know. She said I was out of the wedding, so I dunno what I’m doing here.

Haida: Well, the thing is, I think she’s wanting to call the whole thing off unless you were there.

Ryuu: What? Why?

Haida: I’m not sure. But that’s what she was telling me. I guess, even with the animosity, you’re still her little brother, and she would like to have you there.

Ryuu: ...oh...so, is that why I’m out here?

Haida: For the most part, yeah. Sorry if it annoyed you, it’s just...I really have been wanting to marry her for some time, and I didn’t want to see it go to waste.

Ryuu: ..no, no, it’s fine. Listen, this...this was actually kinda alright. I...I’ll do the wedding. I’ll go in.

Haida: You sure?

Ryuu: Yeah. It was my fault anyway. I might as well go fix it.

Haida: But you didn’t even get a fish!

Ryuu: I hate fish anyway.

Haida: Well, alright. *puts up his fishing rod, and grabs the oars to start paddling*

Ryuu: To be honest, I’m kinda surprised you’ve been so cool with me during this. Given I...well, slapped your kid.

Haida: By all intents and purposes, I probably should kill you for that, but eh, I gotta be a bigger man here.

Ryuu: You and me both. *they eventually reach the shore, and quickly begin exiting the boat* Thanks for trying to help. You don’t seem like such a tool like before.

Haida: Hey!

Ryuu: Just sayin’! I...wait, is that…?

Haida: ...it does look like it. *they both see Retsuko walking towards them, family and friends behind her, with a smile on her face*

Retsuko: You two had a good time out there? :)

Haida: Um, yeah! I think so!

Retsuko: Good! *to Ryuu* You doing okay?

Ryuu: Erm...yes? What’s going on?

Fenneko: Check the boat, dumbass. :3

Ryuu: Huh? *looks over the raft...and sees a mic* ...the conversation was recorded?

Fenneko: Sorry about that, hombre. We just had to let Retsuko hear you two.

Ryuu: Oh. *sees Retsuko* …*sigh* big sister, I...I heard you didn’t want to go on with the wedding without me, and...well, look, I want to apologize for acting like I did. You’ve grown up, and...well, truthfully, I still have a long way to go. If it means you will get married, I would like to be a part again.

Retsuko: ….I mean….truthfully, I was gonna go on without you anyways?

Ryuu: ...what?

Haida: B-but I thought-?

Retsuko: Oh, don’t get me wrong, I was devastated! I blamed myself for acting like I did, and kinda felt I was no good as a bride. So I WAS planning on canceling the whole thing...then Fenneko and Tsunoda kinda showed me the bill, and um, yeah, I couldn’t really cancel it.

Tsunoda: You could’ve made us waste a bunch of money, buster!

Ryuu: Ah…

Retsuko: But the fact you want to make things right makes me feel better about things, for certain. Of course you can be back in! And if it makes you feel any better, I still have a lot of growing up to do too. :)

Ryuu: Heh. Again, I’m really sorry. To you, and to everyone.

Ryota: Don’t be! *chuckles, and pats his son* I was probably being a little harsh on you. It’s all a bit sudden, I realize.

Ryuu: I guess.

Retsuko: ...I gotta say, I’m surprised you remembered that whole thing in the rain! You were so young back then!

Ryuu: Believe me, I couldn’t figure out how either. But...I’m glad I did. It kinda brought me back, I feel.

Retsuko: I’m glad too. *hugs her young brother*

Haida: ...ya know, there IS someone you’re forgetting.

Retsuko: Hmm?

Fenneko: Your kid. :3

Retsuko: Oh! That’s right, where is-*feels her leg being tug on* Huh? Oh! *picks up Ikari* There you are!

Ikari: Mama! *turns and sees Ryuu* *GASP!* *cowers on his mother’s shoulder*

Retsuko: Aw, Ikari! It’s okay! He won’t hurt you.

Ryuu: It’s alright, buddy. I’m sorry.

Ikari: …*looks at Ryuu, nervously*

Ryuu: *smiles awkwardly, trying not to seem like an idiot*

Retsuko: *seeing Ikari turn his head to her* ...it’s okay, sweetie. He’s fine. :)

Ikari: …*looks at Ryuu again*........*stretches out his hand, to reach*

Ryuu: *grabs Ikari, and holds him* ...s’up, little fella? :D

Ikari: ….*tilts his head in confusion*

Ryuu: ….um….what’s up? How’s life?

Retsuko: *laughs* Ryuu, he can barely form words!

Ryuu: W-well, I know that! I just, um….*sticks his tongue out* bleh!

Ikari: ….*begins smiling, and giggles*

Retsuko: Aww, he’s starting to like you! :D

Ryuu: Heh, that’s, um...that’s good, I think.

Retsuko: That’s very good. ^^ *sees a car pulling up to the building* ...who’s that?

Fenneko: I think that’s one of the invitees. *the car door opens, revealing Resasuke* Yyyyep.

Haida: Wow! Good ol’ Space Cadet!

Resasuke: *walks towards everyone* Hey.

Retsuko: *gives Resasuke a hug* Resasuke! I’m so happy you could make it!

Resasuke: I mean, I was invited, so…

Retsuko: True! *to her parents* Mom, dad! I’d like you to meet someone!

Rie: Oh, honey, we know hi-

Retsuko: This is my ex-boyfriend, Resasuke!

Ryota: ….

Rie: ….e-ex-boyfriend?

Retsuko: Yeah. I kinda was crushing on him at our work place, but it ended up not working out. But we’re still good friends.

Rie: …..well, uh...it’s probably a good thing that it didn’t work.

Retsuko: ...huh? Do you guys not like him?

Rie: N-no, it’s not that! It’s just-

Retsuko: Oh, boy. Look, I agree, we weren’t really all that compatible, but you can’t just decide not to approve of him! We already went out, it doesn’t really work when you break it off-

Ryota: Retsuko, that’s your cousin.

Retsuko: ………...what?

Ryota: Your mother’s side.

Rie: Aunt Rumi? That’s her son.

Retsuko: …………………..

Resasuke: ….you know, I THOUGHT you looked familiar when we were going out. Couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but yeah. What’s up, cousin?

Retsuko: ……………………….I………………..

Haida, Ryuu, Riko, and Hiroko: ………………..PFFFFFFT, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Fenneko: Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

[thelioncourts]

dinner was made for eating, not for talking

His red tie was constricting around his neck, and it was almost enough to distract him from the sweat seeping through his button-down underneath the suit jacket that was every kind of too hot in July’s sweltering heat.  But both of those things were minor nuisances in comparison to Chad’s droning that Jared had been enduring for the entire fifty-minute drive into Austin.

Scratch that -- those were minor nuisances in comparison to Chad’s droning that Jared had been enduring for the last week.  

Richard had been home since last Saturday, and that apparently wasn’t enough time for Chad to process the concept of ‘Richard Murray’ and ‘married’ in the same sentence.  

“-- I mean, do you know how awkward tonight is going to be?  Having dinner with some twenty-five-year-old making gold digger eyes at my dad while he stares at her super-fake jugs?” Chad repeated one of his many fears for the three-hundredth time.  

“I thought we dropped the idea that she was twenty-five when your dad mentioned her having kids?” Jared reminded him, turning the car into a parking garage.  Chad had a weird thing about valets (“I don’t trust anyone wearing a vest.”  “Not all valets wear vests, Chad.”).  

[Read on AO3]

“Don’t even get me started on the kids,” Chad groaned.  “I don’t need snot-nosed babies running around my house, and I definitely don’t need my dad paying to raise some other dude’s kids.”

There was an echo in the concrete garage as the car doors slammed shut, but it was hard to pay attention to that noise when there were so many other noises inhabiting the world just outside.  Even though they lived less than an hour from the city, they didn’t make it into the heart of Austin all that often.  That was mostly because of Jared’s mom’s overprotectiveness, but they swore it would all change when they were both eighteen (“I can’t believe I’m turning eighteen a whole fucking year before you, Jared.  Don’t expect me to wait around for you to turn twenty-one before I go get wasted legally.”).  But right now, a trip to downtown Austin was a rarity, and spending it at The Driskill was even more of one.  

The Driskill looked like the kind of hotel that would open a movie about a rich kid who had known no other life than that of luxury.  It was arched doorways and windows with intricately carved decoration all around on the outside, and the inside was Romanesque with its tall white pillars and glass-covered ceilings.  The oldest hotel in Austin, The Driskill was not only one of the best-known buildings in all of Texas, it was also home to The Driskill Bar and Grill, one of Austin’s most sought out nighttime restaurants.  Getting in on a Saturday night required three things: 1) a simple, yet efficient, plan 2) several weeks notice 3) money.  Of course, when you were Richard Murray, you only needed number three.  

“This place is crazy,” Jared said with a sort of awe as they fell into the line.

“Nothing but the best for my dad’s wife of a whole two weeks,” Chad commented back with an eyeroll, leg bouncing where they stood.

“Nervous?”

“What?” Chad asked incredulously.  “No.  What do I have to be nervous about?”  They moved up several places in line.  

“Um, I don’t know; there’s the fact that you’re getting ready to meet your dad’s new wife for the first time.”

“I’ve met plenty of his girlfriends over the years, this’ll be a breeze,” Chad said.  

“Yeah, exactly, Chad.  You’ve met plenty of girlfriends, but he’s never gone off and married one of them.”  They were next in line.  “This is serious.”

“I give it six months, tops,” was Chad’s flippant reply and then they were at the front of the line.  

“Good evening, gentlemen,” the host greeted politely, but his eyes were blatant in their search for something of substance.  By the look on his face, he wasn’t impressed by Chad’s spiked hair and loose tie or the sweat beading on Jared’s forehead.  “How can I help you?”

“We’re here with Richard Murray,” Chad said with a comfortability of someone who had grown up saying this exact phrase.  

“Of course,” the host said, expression still unchanged.  “Michael, would you please escort these two to table thirty-three, Mr. Murray’s table?”

The walk to the table exposed an upper-echelon of people and Saturday-night dwellers that they didn’t experience in a town like Georgetown.  There were a few people that looked to be around Jared and Chad’s age, but most of the restaurant attendees were older and held themselves with a confidence of belonging.  Jared couldn’t stop tugging at his tie, at the waist of his pants, at his sleeves during their entire walk across the red colored carpet.  

Richard Murray was sitting alone at a large rounded table with an elegantly draped gold tablecloth draped across it.  He was fiddling, moving his silverware ever so slightly to the left, turning the watch on his wrist, twisting the ring on his finger.  

“She slip your wallet and make a run for it already?” Chad asked, no decency to wait until Michael had returned to the front of the restaurant.  Jared elbowed him.    

“She and her daughter went to hang their jackets.  She said she was also going to give her son a quick call because he had said he may be running a little late.”  Chad took the seat to the left of his father, and Jared took the seat to the left of Chad, leaving three empty chairs sitting there in a daunting way.  “Can you please have your best behavior on tonight?”

Usually, it was impossible to get Chad and his dad to have a serious conversation about anything.  But at this moment, there was a kind of desperation in Richard’s question, the kind only given by parents in a make-or-break situation.

“Yeah,” Chad answered after too long of a pause, and Richard’s shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch.  “I’ll try.  But if one of her kids calls you dad or calls me big bro, I’m out of here.”

“I don’t think --”  Richard’s response was cut short by an approaching figure, and Chad and Jared turned to watch.  

She wasn’t overly tall or short, standing average at about 5’7”, maybe 5’9” in the heels she had on.  Her dress was modest -- but obviously expensive; a shimmering beige with a high neckline and three-quarter-length sleeves.  Jared and Chad didn’t know a whole lot about makeup, but she didn’t appear to have much on, just a touch of pink to her cheeks and lips.  Her blonde hair was perfectly styled, falling just at her shoulders in loose waves.  

She was beautiful, and that was as expected.  She was not, however, twenty-five.  

There were the finest of wrinkles by the corners of her eyes, prominent as she smiled at Richard with a fondness beyond their time together, and an aged-elegance in the way she held her body and the way she walked, one not found in fumbling twenty-somethings still learning everything about the world.  There was also the fact that the girl walking by her side, her daughter as Richard had earlier stated, couldn’t be much younger than Chad and Jared.  

“What the fuck….?” Chad trailed, not-so-lightly hitting Jared’s arm.  Rubbing absentmindedly at the place Chad hit, Jared couldn’t stop the laugh out of his throat or the wide grin on his face.  

“This changes everything,” he said, and he laughed a little harder at Chad’s slack-jawed expression.  

“Donna!” Richard started, pushing his chair back from the table to stand.  

“We didn’t get to properly say hello earlier,” Donna responded with that fond smile still in place.  They reached for each other like they had reached for each other for the entirety of their lives.  Their kiss was chaste and sweet, and beyond Chad’s unstoppable blanch at such a public display of affection, it settled a quiet tension in the room.  

“Chad,” Richard said, his hand sliding to the dip of Donna’s waist, pulling her close, “this is Donna.  Donna, this is my son, Chad.”  He waited for Chad to stand and Chad did so, if albeit slowly, still taking in the almost 180° of the situation from its expectations.  

“It’s nice to meet you, Donna,” Chad said.  His voice was quieter than Jared had maybe ever heard it.  

“And this is Chad’s best friend, Jared….Jared, what are you doing here?” Richard asked, but he was smiling and shaking his head as though he has just processed Jared’s presence, nerves quieted some.

“I’m here to make Chad look good, sir,” Jared said, standing up to shake Donna’s hand.  

“Chad and Jared have known each other since they were on tricycles.  You’ll be seeing a lot of him,” Richard explained.

“It’s so nice to meet you both,” Donna started.  “This,” she motioned to the blonde girl at her side, “is my daughter, Mackenzie.  My son is running a bit late, I’m afraid, but he’ll be joining us shortly.”

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Mackenzie said shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.  

They all took their seats, Richard stopping to pull out both Donna and Mackenzie’s chairs for them, and the waiter, David, greeted them and brought out waters for all.  It was Donna who made a noise first, a happy sigh as she folded her napkin over her lap, hands smoothing out its wrinkles and her eyes never leaving Richard.  

“This seems unreal,” she finally said.  Her eyes looked up at the room, the blue of them glittering as they flitted around the sparkling lights above.  

“It really does,” Richard agreed, and his tone matched her own when he spoke.  

“Mr. Murray, I was wondering if you could tell the story.”  It was Mackenzie’s quiet voice that was speaking out and her fingers were still shyly wrapped around her long bangs.  

“Please, call me Richard, Mackenzie.  I don’t want us to start off with formalities.  But what story are you talking about?”

“The story of how you met my mom,” she said, smile more real.  “She’s told me already and it’s the cutest story I’ve ever heard, but I want to hear your version of it too.”

“Mackenzie.”  Donna’s cheeks were flushed and it emphasized a loveliness about her.  “Richard doesn’t want --”

“I would love to tell her that story,” Richard disagreed.  He grabbed Donna’s hand and held it in his own.  “It was the third day of the cruise and this was the first big event that wasn’t just a general welcome.  It was a cocktail hour, and the place was swarming with attorneys everywhere.  Basically the egocentrism was through the roof.”  Donna laughed and Richard looked at her, his eyes telling more than anything else.  “And I was talking to an attorney from Georgia, a Mr. Pierre, when I heard that exact laugh across the room.  After that it all happened so fast.”

Jared heard Chad’s scoff.  “No kidding.”

“Oh, stop that Richard,” Donna started.  Her face was still red.  “That’s not how it happened at all.”

“How did it happen then?”

“I was helping set up for the M.R. Exhibition in the main ballroom and you and Kurt wandered in because you thought it was spa,” Donna said and a fit of laughter was already bubbling out.

“That’s right!” said Richard before continuing the story.  “We thought it was the spa, you told us that the spa was further down, and I asked if you would come be my masseuse.  The cocktail hour was later that night.”  He kissed her hand that was still held in his own.  “But it was your laugh that got me the most.”  

“My dad said you were calling your son earlier,” Chad interjected, and the words drew all attention to him and away from the heaviness of uncomfortable intimacy.  

“Yes, I wanted to give my youngest son a call so I could check up on him, see when he thought he’d get here,” Donna said.  Chad shakily sat his water down.

“Youngest son?” he asked for clarification, eyes darting to Jared who was on the verge of falling into an inappropriately loud fit of laughter at Chad’s continued freakout.   

“I have two sons,” Donna said.  “Josh, my oldest, has long left the nest.  But my other son, Jensen, is just a few years older than you.  He’s joining us, but he got caught in traffic on his way here from Dallas.  Quite a drive for just a dinner, but,” she paused for a moment, smile small and true, “he knows how important this is to me.”

“I do.  I also couldn’t pass up an opportunity to see my beautiful mother and sister, could I?” a voice said from behind Donna and everyone turned or looked up at the figure who had approached quietly during the conversation.  

He was tall.  Not as tall as Jared, but he was tall and slim, with a trim waist and broad shoulders where a perfectly tailored navy jacket pulled and accentuated the lightness of his almost too-green eyes.  But even the green of his eyes couldn’t distract from the gold reflecting from his hair or the warmth of his smile or the smattering of freckles perfectly placed across the bridge of his nose.  

“Jensen!” Mackenzie squealed as she jumped to pull him by his shoulders into a bone-crushing hug.  

“Oh, darling, you made it,” Donna said.  Her voice was filled with a motherly kind of relief, but her face was nothing short of blissful.  “Everyone is here.”

“Well, everyone except Josh, but we only keep him around for his kids anyway,” Jensen said with a grin, leaning down to give Donna a peck on the cheek after he untangled Mackenzie from himself.  

“That’s not true,” Donna admonished with no heat.

“It’s kind of true,” Mackenzie said, and Jensen pulled her into another quick hug.  

“Jensen,” Richard started, standing up and brushing nothing off his pants.  “It’s good to finally meet you.”

“You as well, sir.  My mom has told me a little about you.  All good, I promise,” Jensen replied back, and the two shook hands.  

“This is my son, Chad,” Richard said, kicking at Chad underneath the table to stand, “and his friend, Jared.”

“Nice to meet you guys.  My mom told me you were starting at UTA this fall.”  They all fell into their seats, Jensen sitting comfortably between Mackenzie and Jared.  Jared swallowed the same time Chad shot his father a look.  

“Yeah,” he trailed, and Jared could see the wheels turning in Chad’s head, all trying to catch up with the situation.  Jared could also see that the freckles on Jensen’s face extended over his cheekbones, too.  “Business management and engineering,” he finished, jutting a thumb at Jared in regard to the “engineering” half of his answer.  

The conversations fell into different paths at that moment.  Richard and Donna were unable to take their eyes off of one another, and their conversation was quiet and intimate amongst the noise of the restaurant and its patrons.  Mackenzie fell on her phone as Jensen and Chad talked college, and Jared found himself too quiet in the middle, too scared to look at Jensen for more than a few seconds at a time.  

It wasn’t often that Jared was at a loss for words.  Truth be told, he was a talkative guy and even moreso of one when he was nervous.  He couldn’t count the number of times he had rambled about everything from the importance of the Fourier Transform to confessing his most embarrassing moment -- of which consisted of a rose bush, a pair of tattered Converse hightops, a pitcher of fresh lemonade, and a gardening hoe -- to complete strangers.  But at this very moment, there was no word vomit trying to climb its way out of his throat.  Instead it was sitting like acid on an empty stomach.  

“Wait, you already have your degree?”

Chad’s exclamation was loud enough to jolt Jared back to the present.  Chad was wide-eyed and slack-jawed once again and Jensen’s laugh made that acid-on-an-empty-stomach feeling so intense Jared thought actual vomit as opposed to word vomit might climb out of his throat instead.

“Just graduated in May,” Jensen answered.  

“God,” Chad muttered, and Jared could see it in his eyes that his breaking point had been met.  His head fell into his hands, and Jensen’s laugh was so much more this time, his head falling back to expose the long line of his throat, and his eyes were closed, showcasing a trait he shared with Donna: crinkles by the outer corners.  

“I take it this news hasn’t been the easiest?” Jensen asked after a moment.  His voice was quiet enough that Richard and Donna wouldn’t take notice of the conversation, but Jared mused that he doubted they would anyway with the way they were still staring at one another.  

“You could say that.”

“If it’s any consolation, Mackenzie and I are in the same boat.  It’s been, uh, an unexpected turn of events.”  Jensen was leaning in just a little, continuing to keep the conversation secluded in their corner.  

“At least you’re done with school and moving on with your life,” Chad started.

“Here we go.”  Jared hadn’t meant to mutter.

“Oh, he speaks!” Jensen said with a grin, and he was looking right at Jared.  

“Yeah, dude, now you decide to join in?  You couldn’t have said anything when I was literally dying ten minutes ago?”

“Sorry,” Jared managed to say before internally cringing.  Had his voice always sounded like that?  “I’ve never been taught how to deal with a meeting your best friend’s new stepmom and her kids situation.”  

He could totally do this.  He could totally make conversation.  And a normal conversation at that.

“Four years ago I would’ve said ten words and it would have been an accomplishment in my book.  But now that you’re talking, you’ve got to explain “Here we go” because you sounded about eighty-years-old there.  What’s the story?”

“Chad’s not shut up --”

“Yes, I have!”

“About his delicate ecosystem being disrupted by some twenty-five-year-old and her snot-nosed kids right as he’s getting ready to enter the prime of his life,” Jared explained.  Chad groaned loudly.  

“Wait….is the prime of your life supposed to be college?”

“According to Chad, yeah.”

“Stop talking about me like I’m not sitting right here!”

“Chad,” Richard admonished, his attention diverted from Donna for the first time since they had all arrived, “inside voice.”  

It was then that their waiter returned and conversations were halted as orders were made.  Jared made a lot of observations as everyone ordered.  One was that there was a single meal on this menu that cost as much as Jared’s family spent on food for the whole family when they went out.  The second thing was that Donna’s allure was very apparent when she was talking and Jared found himself wondering if this really could be more than a spontaneous and over-the-top fling.  The third thing was that Chad did, in fact, order that expensive single meal all for himself.  The fourth and fifth things were about Jensen and the way he held his wine glass and the fact that he and Jared ordered the same exact meal.

There was an obvious relief of tension in the air that was hard to miss as well.  Both Richard and Donna seemed more at ease with themselves and with each other now that this hadn’t yet blown up in their faces.  Chad, despite his groaning, seemed relatively unfazed now that the situation was in front of him.  Jared was sure he would get an earful on their drive back, but at least a scene hadn’t been made.  

Attentions were turned to Mackenzie while they waited for food.  She shyly told Richard how she would miss her best friend, but how she didn’t really like anybody else at her school so a new one was exciting.  She also attempted to explain Snapchat when she mentioned how they -- she and Madison -- would always have their Streak.  

“You got a boyfriend back home?” Richard asked and it was enough to turn Mackenzie’s ears pink.

“No!” she exclaimed, and it was the most emotion they had seen from her since Jensen had arrived.  “None of the boys at my old school are cute anyway.”

“I’m sure you’ll meet a nice fellow at your new school, darling,” Donna said.  Then she gestured to Chad and Jared.  “Just look how cute those two are!  And they just graduated from the school you’re going to be attending.”  

“Mom, don’t traumatize them yet.  You have to ease into that kind of public embarrassment,” Jensen told Donna, but his smile was wide and the perfect distraction to keep the rest of the conversation at bay just as their food arrived.  

Chad had eaten the last of the bread that had been sat at the table when they first got there so it was no surprise that the quiet of the table continued for several minutes as everyone began to eat.  

“When do classes start up for you, Jensen?  Are they the same time as UTA?” Richard asked.

“Dad, Jensen is one of those lucky bastards who is already done with school,” Chad said around a mouthful of lobster tail.  

“You make it sound like he he has some sort of “in” on the whole college thing.”  Jared knew he was using his fork to point.  

“I’m done with my B.S., but I’m nowhere near done with school,” Jensen started.  

“So you’re just willingly going back?  Are you crazy?”

“It’s not that bad, Chad,” Richard huffed.

“Especially if you find that one thing you really love,” Donna offered helpfully.

“And I actually think St. Augustine’s classes don’t start until September.  So about two weeks after UTA starts their classes.”

“What is it you’re going for again?”

“My DPT,” Jensen said.  “Full-time, I can get it all done in about two and a half years, maybe three.”

“What’s a DPT?” Jared asked.  Chad hit him in the leg.  

“A doctor of physical therapy, isn’t it exciting?” Donna answered instead, her eyes on Jensen and her voice full of pride.  “And do you want to know the best part?  UTA and St. Augustine are only about ten miles apart.  You all could carpool!”

Chad’s laugh was nervous.  “It might be inconvenient for Jensen here to try and carpool from his apartment.”  

Donna’s confused face made Chad even more nervous.  

“Chad, Jensen’s going to be living with us too.”  

[momo-de-avis]

So, as per @insanityisfine ‘s wishes, here is the story of how a hardcore catholic member of the Opus Dei repressed his homoeroticism with sexism and plagiarized Harry Potter thus teaching me a valuable lesson about writing.

So, let’ call this guy C.

C, as I said, was a hardcore catholic. By that I mean, of course, that you couldn’t actually tell until you actually met him. Though he kind of dressed like your average beto (but not so much, since he was kind of poor), he kind of came off as a regular dude who you could have a conversation with. Except, of course, if you were a girl. In which case you’d get a huge creepy vibe just from engaging with him shortly. He touched a lot, he leaned in, he smiled way too much and he had a really, really weird way of going about women.

First of all, a little background. C was like, the sixth brother of like, I don’t even remember, 10? 12? His mom was a super, hyper devote catholic and his dad—surprise, surprise—was a locksmith atheist who he venerated. The two—MOST SHOCKING OF ALL—were actually divorced. I know. The scandal.

They weren’t really poor, but they weren’t middle class either. They were adrift, you know. Which makes you wonder—how the hell does a family of like, 10 children and one single and stay-at-home mom manage to get this entire progeny into private schools (so Private they didn’t follow the regular, state-issued high school program, they actually had a list of banned books: I cannot tell you how much he despised Saramago lmao) and into high-end universities (like Católica)? Well, that’s where Opus Dei comes in. I never really understood how the fuck that works, but if you’re a member, you basically got a green card to live as a king even though you gotta mend the holes in your socks yourself.

The thing was, this guy was peak Mommy Issues. His mother was a goddamn viper. From what I gathered, because of her religion and the fact that she was divorced with so many fucking children at home, she was desperate to control her children. So the way she found of doing it was by simply playing mind games with them. She pitied her kids against each other. She clearly had a favourite one, and she compared all others to him. C was treated like waste, like he would never achieve the primal status of perfection his older brother achieved, and his sisters were constantly getting into fights because she used hearsay to pity them against each other. I also vividly remember him saying things like a kiss were banned from his TV, and his grandmother would smack whoever if they even dared to glance at the television when something as dirty as that came on. Mommy here would particularly pick on C. She specifically had him share a room with his youngest brother, who always went to bed earlier, specifically so she could complain about how late he got home, and she often hid his laptop away from him. She never even gave them a single phone, they always had to buy it themselves, with their money.

So you see, lovely home already. Which I would have accepted as an excuse, if he hadn’t grown up to be a huge dick. But you know, trauma or not, life in the end is made of choices, and boy, C chose to be a spiteful, humongous dick.

I met him in my first year of college. He was in this group with two other girls and another guy (C on the list I mentioned, let’s call him Z, cause he will be important for the story as well). We got together first because we were all, in 2010, some of the few who had been born in 1989. We were the ’89 group. And damn bitch, that was one fucking weird group. It was like Friends on a budget: they all tried to sleep with each other like there were no cast members left to fuck.

Initially, I thought he was nice, easy-going. We bonded over our passion for writing, mostly. You know the snippets I’ve been sharing of my WIP, with Selena as the protagonist? At the time, I was working on it, it was my second draft, and he was helping me construct the story, along Z (actually, Z is an even bigger dick, but he was the one who provided me the key ingredients into shaping the story. Literally, if it wasn’t for him, that WIP wouldn’t exist). We would sit for hours at this local café talking about it, and let me tell you, I hesitated, yeah, but C was quick to share his WIP with me.

Now, that WIP? When I explain to you what it was about, it’ll throw you off because the premise is actually cool as fuck. Basically, it’s about a young man who finds himself a victim of a curse. The curse causes his skin to fall off, and the only way he can survive is by killing other people and perform a skin transfer so his own skin can regenerate.

Sound rad as hell, doesn’t it?! Except this is C. And C really has a way of masterfully destroying things that look cool to the eye of the beholder.

Well, this cool ass premise? This how it kicks off:

The protagonist is a young kid, I don’t know, of 17 or 18, who’s hanging out Cais do Sodré at 4AM and somehow—somehow—that is weird enough for a police guy to approach him. For those not Portuguese: let me tell you as a person who lives across the river form Lisbon. Cais do Sodré is a liminal space, and the shit that happens there between 3 and 5AM? It stops being weird after a couple of months. Literally no police come near you unless someone’s fighting or someone’s pissing in broad daylight. So I really don’t get wtf this guy was going on about, but moving on.

This dude’s skin’s falling off, so he kills the police guy. Then, he takes off and sees a guy sitting on a public bench wearing, and I quote, «the habit of a monk» (yes, I have the document open right now). That guy tells him, literally, ‘I am a wizard and you can’t hurt me, my name is Cedric’ and this begins the long line of plagiarizing HP. Wait for it, it gets better.

Also, if you’re wondering if this is set in Lisbon, despite there being exactly one Portuguese name? Yes it is. In Sintra, too.

THEN it skips to summer (I have no clue what the fuck that intro is supposed to tell you) and we’re in Sintra, specifically Galamares (the story gets oddly specific). This guy’s out partying with his beto friends and shit, and one night he meets a 25 year old French dude called Goulage who invites him over to his mansion for the weekend and what does our protagonist do? He goes, of course.

This already feels like a premise for a horror story that will inevitably turn into an erotic romance, but remember: this dude’s hyper catholic, and to him homosexuality was not just… a Sin. You see, for it to be a sin, you actually have to think about it. Thing was, this guy pushed it down so far he was deepthroating that denial. He avoided it at all costs. And naturally, what happens when you do this, is your story gets an unnaturally homoerotic subtext that jumps off like a dildo slapping you across the forehead. That’s exactly what happened here.

It gets obvious in the way he describes this French dude: he mentions that going over to one of his parties was ‘a privilege’ for merely ‘a lucky few like [protagonist]’. When he gets to his physical appearance, it gets really neat: he had a smile that went ‘from ear to ear’, ‘glistening eyes, dark and full’ and his hair ‘could be described with one word: confusion, or in another: revolt’ because he had hairs that ‘turned against each other like someone who doesn’t comb their hairs after getting off the shower’. And then, the exact next bit of text says some of the funniest things in this piece of shit: ‘if I were an aspiring psychologist I would say there is a very profound reason for his hairs to be like that, perhaps an inner confusion’. He also says he ‘moves with extraordinary lightness, seemed to be everywhere and spoke with great expression coordinating his words with his gestures. He would be a great professor, if he were ever up to that’.

Two paragraphs later, the love interest, a girl, shows up. Her description? ‘She would look great in a bikini’—a direct thought of the protagonist

There’s this incredible exchange where Goulage snaps his fingers and fire spits out of his finger and he does this to light the protagonist’s fucking cigarette and the protagonist is like ‘wow you gotta teach me that’ and the dude’s reply is ‘I can teach you many tricks’. So the French dude promises a class that night, and off they go to ‘the basement, that was entirely dark’ lmfao. Goulage then prepares a drink for him and the protagonist slams down on the floor, unconscious. Yes, date-rape drug. When he comes to—and by god, bear with me on this one cause I fought against this little shit for this scene—he touches his neck and realizes there are two small wounds there.

What does this genius think?

‘I was bitten by a snake’

I remember SO WELL the conversation I had with him about this bit, because at this point the snake comes off as very, VERY evident homoerotic symbolism because in no fucking world would it make sense for a snake to bite you in the fucking neck, what are you talking about, and I tried to make him see that but boy—lost time.

When summer ends, our protagonist realizes the date-rape thing was actually the French dude’s way of cursing him with his skin disease from hell and the two get into a fight.

Now, if you’ve been following me for a while, you know there is a maxim I live by: there are no bad ideas, just ideas that need working. C was actually the one who taught me that, because he actually had a really, REALLY fantastic idea for a story that he completely fucked up because he refused to do any work besides sitting at his laptop and shitting a few words together. He did no revision (he thought himself above that), did no research (he couldn’t understand why that was needed, when he could simply copy it from existing books) and he did no fucking work on his plot—and if you tried to show him, he would take your criticism to heart.

Because not only is this a story about a protagonist who lives under a curse that causes his skin to fall off and his only way of survival is killing so he manages to make a new skin transfer, this is actually the Friends to Enemies trope, which I fucking adore. But he fucked it up completely by somehow—somehow I have no clue how exactly—doing it in light of the entirety of Harry Potter. (My favourite sentence in this WIP is—and I remind you, I quoting this shit: “I am going to the suburbs, so many people disappear there they won’t notice my presence”. Absolute fucking poetry, this little gem. Love it.)

This is set in a wizardry school and this somehow relates to elves in Lisbon (lmfao). Cedric dude from the beginning? He’s from the Ministry of Magic (YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN). They teleport to some fucking city that is like, magically concealed behind a barrier or some shit in Sintra (LMAO). Also, wizards are divided in Orders like, First and second and shit, which I understand also comes from HP (remember I never read HP, these comparisons were actually made for me by an HP aficionado I used to know who pointed them out for me, yet even I could see the plagiarism lmao). And what’s even funnier, most of the names are lifted from somewhere obvious: Gorbachev is there, so is Oskar Koskoshka (yes, like the painter) or Gorbunov. And guess what non wizards are called lmfao.

Also, the spells are exactly like HP: stupefy, stritia maxima, accio fogo, incarcerous and invicta are some of the few I caught eye of here.

I remember there’s a Brolyk somewhere in there as well, and someone called Polidoro, even fucking FREEZER is here (if you’re not Portuguese: that’s our version of Frieza lmfaooo). Oh, and Marowak as well (that’s a pokemon isn’t it?) The protagonist at some point is recruited to work for the, idk, FBI of the wizardry world? Or the Wizard Police Department or Wizard CSI or some shit?

I remember the climax of the story is a sword fight between he two former friends, totally-not-gay-nope dudes and the way he did it… It was in a poem that sounds like a DDR recital. Like, first he gets this swarm of anger that, as it always goes, propels him to be the Best There Is and the weirdest fucking modern poetry ensues, and then the fight scene is like this: “Step forward, attack through the right / step left, attack forward” etc etc. Just this fucking SHIT.

So yeah, when this guy showed me this my reaction was pretty much

Now, I TRIED to be critical in a constructive way. Because, as I said, his premise is actually super fucking original and, being well worked out, it could have been actually incredible. But C refused to take criticism. When he approached anyone with his ‘would you like yo read my story and tell me what you think’ mumbo-jumbo, he didn’t mean criticism, he meant praise.

So what happened was he did to me what he thought I was doing to him. He put me down constantly.

Joke was on him. He was so excited about my story, he actually went on google sketch to project some scenarios from my story. The School, where the story starts and introduces Selena to us, he actually fucking drew the whole thing, so I don’t really know what his problem was cause he was actually more excited about it than I was.

But he just couldn’t take the fact that I was being critical of his work. I started noticing that most people around him hesitated when it came to giving him real opinions. When he asked someone what they thought, he didn’t say ‘what do you think?’ He’d say ‘it’s good, isn’t it?’ and that left people cornered. But I just.. don’t take shit. And my friend back then, who knew HP back and forth, he jumped in as well because he could see that like, if this thing would ever see the light of day, JK Rowling would have a field day suing his ass (though it’s way too bad for it ever to reach publishing, trust me. He doesn’t know how to accent prepositions. He writes “fui áquela casa” or “vou á casa de banho” by fucking hand).

He constantly nit-picked my work. “Swords don’t wheeze, Ana” he said. “I know, C, it’s called a fucking metaphor”.

“This looks too much like the Chronicles of Narnia, I think you’re risking plagiarism, because of this Tiger symbolism”; “C, the Chronicles of Narnia has a Lion passing for Jesus, the Tiger is literally just a symbol of a god, what do you mean”.  

“This is too much like the Mists of Avalon”; “have you even read the Mists of Avalon?”, “no, but it’s celtic paganism all the same”, “???????????????”

Now, here’s another thing about C: he really had no fucking clue how to deal with women. They were alien concepts to him. And one thing he really believed (I mean he really believed this) worked wonders in conquering a girl’s heart was basically put her down and annihilate her self esteem. Call her ugly, say she’s fat, tell her she’s got ugly teeth—and then provide the compliments! So he was a professional sexist. And I remember when he started picking on me because I dared criticized his masterful magnus opus of a fucking piece of shit book, he went in for the looks. At the time, I was about to go on the table for my jaw surgery, and he actually said this to me: “Finally men will look at you, Ana, and you’ll look decent!” He would ell other people “Ana? She’s not a girl, to me she’s a guy—she’s even too ugly to be a girl”.

He really went fucking hard.

It didn’t take long for me to just… fuck off.

But I kept his fucking first and second draft

What’s outstanding is how a hyper-catholic dude who wasn’t allowed to see kisses on TV and who was a virgin at 24 years old out of religious beliefs but bragged about getting a boner for his female friends on the beach managed to just… Become my prime example of everything you shouldn’t be as a writer. I am not kidding. C was my life lesson. Whenever I can’t write, I go back to his first draft and like… It’s so fucking bad, I get a boost. IT’s not just poorly written, everything about it is bad.

But then I remember what’s so bad about it: he made it bad by being a shit person. C thrived off of attention, negative or positive, it didn’t matter, so long as he was the subject of the conversation. He used others to aggrandize himself, by putting them down and treating them like shit in front of others—specifically, in an environment where others couldn’t control but he could (his brothers used to make jokes in front of me—as well as literally everyone else, whether I know them or not, about how C was fucking me—he wasn’t—and say things like ‘is she the one you’re eating?’ in public). He hated women because of his mother, his mommy issues were down to his marrow and man, he projected that onto every girl he ever met. He specifically sough women with little initiative, little impulsivity and who submitted so he wouldn’t be challenged. For friends and girlfriends.

But I challenged him, and that wouldn’t stick. So he treated me like shit, constantly. So much at one point I stopped showing up, stopped talking, just.. walked away.

But those shitty first drafts? Oh, my friends… you wouldn’t believe the shit I have here in my computer.

[edsrich]

Bruised (Richie/Eddie) 1/12

Summary: It’s 1993 and the summer from many years ago is dead and gone. Many have drifted apart from the Losers club and its at the point where there is no club at all. The atmosphere is cold just like the winter months and the only blushes to be found are the ones that are caused from the piercing spikes of cold that heat skin up. Being a teenage boy is hard; especially for the two boys that now count each other as strangers. In which both boys make a plan, but both disrupt each others.

Warning(s): Suicide attempt?? , depression, mental illness’, mixture of fluff and angst throughout the series, homophobic slurs

A/N: Hi!! welcome to part 1 of IDK HOW MANY but ayy!! Honestly, i’M MAKING A TAG LIST FOR THIS SERIES SO IF ANYONE WHO DOESN’T WANNA FOLLOW ME OR WANTS TO BE NOTIFIED JUST ASK!!

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 

Richie Tozier brought the cigarette between his lips, letting the toxic smoke fill his decaying lungs and pulse throughout his insides and swirls around in each crevice of his body. He then takes away the cancer stick, after a moment blowing out the toxic waste into the thin November air.

Beverly Marsh raised an eyebrow at him, sitting across from the much taller boy on the brick wall with her own cigarette between her fingers. She watched as the smoke faded into nothing, sighing lightly as she proceeded to watch her best friend smoke away.

“You seem to be going heavy on the cigarettes today,” She paused, “I mean, isn’t that your fifth one in the past half hour?”

Richie shrugged, “I like smoking.”

Beverly eyed his cigarette with her green embers, frowning. “If you carry smoking on like that daily, you’ll die.”

“Well I obviously don’t smoke this much to look badass- as much as I am, Bev.” Richie grumbled, pushing his glasses up on his face.

“You’re worrying me a lot lately, how are your parents-”

“I don’t wanna talk about them, alright? I’m fine and I’m always fine. Look, I’m just moody as fuck today and I need a few more cig’s. I’ll lighten up soon, just getting used to my man period.”

Beverly laughed a little at that, running her free hand through her short ginger curls before taking a puff of her cigarette, flicking away the excess ash onto the bricks under her.

“A man period, huh? Must sucks, I wouldn’t know what it’s like.”

“Yeah, it fuckin’ sucks. I piss blood and shit like that, have to shove a few tampons up-”

“Beep beep, Richie.” Beverly grins.

That simple sentence took Richie back a few years for a moment, as he remembered his old friends that he had grown apart from due to his bad habits. He sighed, thinking of Ben, Stan, Mike, Ben and... Eddie. He quickly shook away the thoughts and nodded at Bev.

“Bottoms up, princess.” Richie lifted his cigarette up with his pinky finger high and clanked it against Beverly’s, before taking a quick puff again.

Beverly smirked at Richie, before stumping her cigarette out. “That’s me done for today.”

Richie frowned and watched as the ash disintegrated. “You coulda’ gave that to me, wasting a perfectly good cig.”

“I think you’ve had one too many for today, Tozier.” Beverly winked, trying to lighten the mood with a subtle hint of sarcasm to coat her seriousness and concern.

“Gosh, Bev. Shut up- you’re not my Mom.” Richie snapped, trying not to seem too harsh but his words had a bite to them.

Beverly furrowed her eyebrows before huffing, not saying anything more for a few minutes before finally piping up again. “I’m just being your friend and caring, since no one else seems to- someone has to.”

Richie flinched at her bluntness, but knew that she was telling the truth. Richie’s habits had slowly made him unravel away from others and not become a priority on others lists. 

Even his own parents didn’t give a shit about him.

Hell, his parents were the ones who funded the cigarettes for him. Every day he’d ask either his Mom or Dad for cigarette money and without any hesitation, they’d hand over 10 dollars.

“Well shit, where would I be without you?” Richie chuckled dryly, running his fingers through his dark brown locks that reached his jawline.

Beverly smiled, “You’d be lonely and homeless, probably.”

Richie then finished his own cigarette down to the stub, crushing the leftovers under his all black converse shoes. He flipped his hair back that fell in front of his eyes and looked to Bev. 

“Do you mind walking home by yourself today? I’m gonna stay behind after school.”

Beverly snorted loudly, “You? School?” She gasped, “I’ve never heard two words in one sentence before!”

“Extra credit, some stupid shit.” Pausing before speaking up again, “I’m failing in every class and I need to try, you know?”

Richie was a good liar, a great one in fact. He’s been lying for years. “Are you okay, Richie?”/“How are you doing, Richie?” Whenever anyone asked, which would only be Beverly nowadays, he was good at covering up what was reckoning with himself. The seventeen year old boy had learnt over the years that he wouldn’t be missed if he had left the planet, possibly by one person- that being Bev. But even Bev would get over him quickly, she’d probably be able to get over her smoking addiction too. After all, it was partly his fault for bringing it back up to the surface. Bev had Bill, not to mention Ben still fawning over her.

Richie didn’t even talk to them anymore.

The only person he had was Beverly and she didn’t even need him, whereas he needed her more than anything. She was all he had and she knew that.

“Well, shit alright then. I can hang out with Bill instead.” Beverly nodded, pushing herself off the wall. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess?”

Richie nodded, “Walk home safely.” 

Beverly smiled at him, “You have a nice night Rich.” With that, the ginger girl walked off down the street and away from the school building to which they both once sat outside of.

Richie watched her walk off, making sure she was safe whilst in his sight. A smile remained on his lips until she had vanished out of his sight, soon replaced by his natural void of emotion expression.

Richie jumps off the wall, landing on his feet and stuffs his hands in his pockets as he walks in the opposite direction and down the road.

“You fucking faggot!”

Punch, kick, punch.

“You ought’a be knocked straight.”

Eddie croaked out a strangled sob, attempting to protect himself from his usual bullies as much as he could. With his hands in front of his face and his knees tucked into his chest, cradling himself.

“Go pop some more fucking pills, maybe then you’ll overdose and the world will have one less faggot breathing.”

With that, Eddie’s box of tablets were quickly scattered against the concrete with the force of a shoe kicking the box open. Eddie’s eyes widened and he looked as the rainbows of the variety of pills for his health were disbanded elsewhere.

“Hey-”

Before Eddie could try and plead for the bullies to stop, a stomp to his head knocked him out clean.

“Eddie? Oh fuck, not again.” A voice muttered out, groaning almost.

Eddie could barely see, his eyes seemed to be glued shut. However, he could feel the immense pain that pulsed on his skin, possibly new bruises forming.

“Eddie, I don’t wanna do the water thing again, wake up dude.”

Eddie’s eyes cracked open in little slits, seeing a buff form kneeling next to him.

“Mike?”

Mike smiled sadly, chuckling. “You got yourself into another one of these situations again?”

Eddie sat up with the help from his friend, cracking his neck and sighing. “By coming out as gay, then yeah. I suppose so.”

Mike frowned at Eddie’s words, patting his back to somehow comfort the fragile boy, “The best thing you could’ve done was come out Eddie. You’re so brave and despite knowing how awful the kids are at school, you still did it.”

“But if I wasn’t gay in the first place then maybe I wouldn’t be in this situation. Again.” Eddie spat, biting his words at himself.

Ever since Eddie came out to friends and family about his sexuality, he already regretted it the next day. His mother had taken him to several councillors about ‘mental health problems’, his friends distanced themselves from certain activities with him and bullying was never so brutal.

Mike grabbed Eddie’s shoulder, “I don’t wanna hear you say shit like that, Eddie. You’re perfect the way you are, your sexuality doesn’t define you.”

Eddie glanced at Mike and sighed sadly but nodded anyway, “Thank you.”

Mike gave a comforting smile and ruffled up Eddie’s hair before collecting the boys pills for him, grabbing the small blue container and placing them all in the right places as Eddie sat and watched.

Mike eventually handed the full container back to Eddie and Eddie quietly put the blue box in his fanny pack.

“You know, if they are gazebos, then why do you still take them?” Mike asked in genuine curiosity.

“Its just a routine, something I feel the need to do...” Eddie trailed off before shrugging, “I don’t know.”

Mike sighed, holding his hand out for Eddie to take which he gladly took. Mike pulled him up to his feet for support, patting off any dirt that remained on the boys attire.

“Thanks Mike, I uh- I should get going now.”

Mike nodded, smiling. “Say hi to the other guys for me, I barely see them anymore with work. It was great seeing you again, and hey- don’t you ever feel ashamed of yourself Kaspbrak.” Mike paused, before waving his hand. “Adios.”

Eddie waved timidly, watching Mike rushing off with a sack hanging over his bag, possibly from him doing a job.

“Bye.” Eddie whispered, his hand grabbing his fanny pack for emotional support.

A few days later, Richie sat in class with several others around him, familiar people from his past included.

Richie was no longer the cocky trashmouth that wouldn’t be afraid to be the class clown, no. He was a different person due to all of the changes in his life. He’d act like himself around Bev and only Bev, No one ever saw the old Richie anymore, he was dead and gone.

Richie slowly became irritated at the sounds around the classroom, for example. Some random kid thought it was fucking amazing and decided to piss the teacher off badly, now he was lecturing the whole class about something he couldn’t give two shits about. Another kid was tapping his pencil against his desk in an uneven rhythm and another kid was throwing spit balls around the class.

He needed to get away from here, now.

Richie waited for the teacher to turn around and start scribbling his chalk against the board angrily, before he slid up- despite the strange looks he received, he simply walked out without a care in the world.

Yet, no one even cared that he left.

The teacher looked to his side, seeing Richie’s figure fade out into the hallway and he shook his head, scribbling more.

“Now kids, that’s a perfect example of a person you shouldn’t be.” He of course, was talking about Richie.

Richie ignored his comment; speeding down the hall whilst his feet echoed down the empty hall, making their way towards the steps in order to reach his destination.

He fidgeted with his keys in his pocket, letting a sigh racket from his lips, with his feet making their way up towards the roof of the school, which was nothing out of the norm for Richie. He and Bev would smoke here all the time, only today however was different.

He wanted to do more than smoke himself to death today.

Eddie whimpered, being flung into the dark navy lockers- his temple smacking against the cooling surface which caused him to collapse to the ground. He felt the blood trickling down his nose, to which he raised his sleeve and held it against the liquid to stop it from trickling further. A hiss left his lips as his nose stung and tingled his brain senses.

“Get the fuck up, faggot.” One of his bullies hissed. 

Eddie tried to do as he was told, trying to grab onto the locker to hoist himself up- but to no avail, Henry only kicked him back down.

Eddie let out a pained yelp, falling on his face to further make his nose bleed more. His head shook with pain due to his forming headache and the overwhelming situation.

“Have a dashing weekend, twink.” His new found bully friend, spat down at Eddie before another laughed, pushing him along to leave elsewhere.

Eddie glared at their passing figures, wiping away the blood that dripped onto the floor below. Eddie couldn’t help but glance around at the small attention the scene received. Everyone was watching, but none were helping. Even Bill, who watched in nothing but sympathy.

“Shows over.” Eddie whispered harshly, grasping the locker to help him to his feet.

“E-Eddie-”

“No Bill, fuck off.” Eddie hissed, tears brimming his water line with his fingers jittering as he brought his inhaler to his lips, taking a strong puff.

“Eddie, i’m-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, you’re not sorry and you’re not my friend. I stick up for you every time, every fucking time, this happens daily and not once you help.”

“E-Eddie, stop. I just...”

“You just what? You’re scared? Big Bill is scared?” Eddie started to cause a scene, his voice raising by every passing second.

Bill’s eyes were wide in shock at how Eddie was talking to him, but he remained silent.

“You’re not my fucking friend. Are you homophobic too, is that it?” Eddie knew he was over reacting, but he didn’t care. “Is that why you don’t help me, huh? You just watch?”

Bill’s eyes were wide in not only shock now, but hurt. “Y-You think I’m h..homophobic?”

“Well why else, Bill? Why else would you just leave me there?!” Eddie’s voice raised, his hand shaking with the light blue inhaler tight in his fist. 

Bill shook his head, “I..I’ll see you on Monday Eddie.” With that, Bill rushed off with his head low.

People stared at Eddie with a mixture of disgust and of pity, both of which he hated. He hated it when others pitied him or were disgusted of him. Eddie looked around, realising these looks and he quickly grabbed his bag from the floor and pushed through the small crowd, holding back his tears and rushing off down the corridor, people watched him go but didn’t offer a shoulder to cry on.

With each step Eddie took, he felt more bruises form on his arms and shoulders and anywhere else he was kicked or punch by his bullies. This wouldn’t happen much anymore hopefully.

Eddie rushed up the steps to the school, gripping the handle rail with his clammy hands. His head swung full of anxiety and anger, swirling and attacking at his emotions over and over again. He made it to the second floor of his school, before swinging himself up the next flight of stairs to ramble over. His destination was the roof.

He needed everything to stop.

His breaths only became heavier as he shoved open the door that was now in front of him after climbing the mountain of stairs. The door made a large creak throughout the silent air, causing a disturbance to perhaps anyone up here. However, no one was. It was empty.

That was perfect for Eddie.

Eddie closed the door, before walking out across the abandoned roof which was full of dead potted plants and green gardens that had failed. He walked around the entrance to the other side of the roof, looking at his feet whilst he did so.

Was he really about to do this?

Eddie sighed shakily, tilting his head up to look ahead of him- only for him to see another shadow standing around the next corner. Eddie tilted his head in confusion before turning around the small box that belonged to the fire escape entrance to cover it up from any rain or harsh weather. 

Eddie gasped, begging his eyes to deceive him. A tall lanky figure was stood at the edge of the rooftop with his toes hanging off. A mere cigarette between the index finger and the middle finger, whilst Eddie held his inhaler.

“Richie?!”

The figure almost fell forward whilst stood at the edge in complete shock, looking back with those large coke bottle glasses. Him almost falling caused Eddie to rush forward with a hand out for Richie to grab.

“Eds?”

Eddie felt his chest tighten at the nickname he had not heard in several years, Eddie felt water leak from his eyes at the nostalgia and memories of the two old friends flooded back as his emotions poured out. His head was tilted in confusion and shock to see Eddie, just as much as Eddie was to see Richie. The two were complete polar opposites now. Eddie raised his hand higher for Richie to take, saying no words as none would form due to his throat becoming dry as realisation dawned upon him.

Both Eddie Kaspbrak and Richie Tozier had came to the rooftop to kill themselves on this late Friday afternoon.

[twinsimskeletons]

Bett Goldfinch for @futurecarrie‘s DRSE2

This dude has a chronic problem of never taking anything seriously. It's not even that he hides behind a confident exterior, he literally doesn't get bothered by anything. His goals in life are to play football, look good, and get the ladies. Everything else is water off a duck's back. 

He plays the social game and he plays it well. He's pretty perceptive which helps with this, knowing what makes people tick, and what to say to get himself off the hook. He's rich with a heavy inheritance, doesn't want to work a day in his life, and coasts on by using the gift of the gab. He could easily be called the ultimate douchebag, and that would be just as fitting, but no; he's the ultimate jock.

(Also, he's one of those "only real men can wear pink" guys but sort of ironically does it. Would probably also wear sandals with socks but I couldn't make myself do that. He just likes getting a rise out of people, getting under their skin).

Traits: Perceptive, Athletic, Mean Spirited, Irresistible, Charismatic

Questions under the cut:

1.)    What is the most important thing to them? (meaning a person or thing specifically i.e. friends/family) 

For all his confidence and inability to care seriously about almost anything, the only two important things to him would be his old man (who is his coach and inspiration, and someone Bett wants to always make proud, but is super pressuring and encourages anything that makes Bett the ultimate jock, i.e. being an arse) and his ability to play sport, particularly american football.

2.)    Do they have any deep, dark secrets? What are they? Is their biggest secret the fact they killed someone, or is it more like they wet the bed until they were 8? 

Bett genuinely hates his little sister. She’s thirteen and a brat, and he has purposefully left her in tricky situations like abandoning her when shopping, giving her bad directions, making her run dangerous errands. He hides this from his father, who would be disappointed because family is important in america or some shit like that.

3.)    If something bad happened (i.e. their mum was killed), are they more likely to cry or get angry?

Bett would get mad. Not red-mist angry, but cunning, deadly mad. it would be like he was on the field. His vision would narrow to his target for revenge.

4.)    What’s one of their favourite generic items (meaning something that isn’t special to them in any way, but if someone gave it them they’d be very happy)?

Anything sports related (but none of those ‘fake’ sports like golf, darts, snooker, anything that doesn’t require a tonne of physical training. He also thinks tennis is crap). Anything relating to social status too, like a gift that showed he was someone’s favourite, or a crush.

5.)    What is one of their least favourite generic items (again meaning something that isn’t special/unique to them (like a chocolate bar or something))?

A fake trophy or award that he hasn’t earned. He has a massive ego and needs his achievements rewarded, but fake rewards are not tolerated. Also anything he needs to spend effort making, doing, or looking after. Don’t give him a fucking tamagotchi or he’ll hammer it to pieces. 

6.)    What’s their relationship like with their parents?

His mother has always been distant with him and dotes on the sister (Alexa), perhaps a reason he hates her as he always has to be best, but he doesn’t really give a fuck about his mother (though he wouldn’t be disrespectful of her). His old man is everything. 

7.)    Do they have any fans (if their talent permits them to have fans)? Do they like said fans?

He would definitely have fans for being Awesome at Sport. and yes, he loves his fans because they feed his ego. Also they sleep with him sometimes, so, you know.

8.)    Do they have any siblings? How do they feel about said siblings?

Covered.

9.)    What three words would they use to describe themselves?

Awesome. Sexy. Legend.

10.)  What three words would others use to describe them?

bit-of-an-arse (he covers his arsehole ways quite well, esp. because he is pretty charming to make up for it), attractive, frustrating.

11.) Any fears?

Somehow losing the ability to play sport - an injury for example - and fading into obscurity. 

12.) If they were offered 1,000,000 of their currency to do something immoral, would they do it?

Mmm it would depend. Killing someone, no, because Bett doesn’t value money that highly. He’s in it for the fame and stardom, not the cash, though it is a convenient plus. 

13.)  What’s their stance on religion?

Sport is his religion, but he’s Christian by birth and his dad is Very Religious so he would pray before every game and say grace and go through the motions without it really having any say in his morals. He wouldn’t say God’s name in vain because his dad would come down with the fury of a thousand suns, so tends to say “oh my G,” instead, or ‘Christo’

14.) What’s their stance on the supernatural?

Bett doesn’t believe in it, but if he saw it with his own two eyes he’d accept it because his senses don’t lie (he’s a simple man). He wouldn’t believe anyone else until he did see it, though.

15.)  If they had one day left to live, what would they do?

Play a game, enjoy the rest of the day with his adoring fans.

16.)  What makes the earth turn according to them: Money or love (or is it because when the earth was a gas cloud it started to spin and hasn’t quite grown out of that phase yet) ?

Why does that matter? Bett doesn’t question these things. It turns because it turns. Maybe because God made it turn.

17.)  Knowledge, power or relationships: what’s the most important?

Power. Power in fame, in particular, or brute strength.

18.)  Do they like animals? What’s their favourite?

Bett doesn’t mind animals if they’re not in his way, being a nuisance or needs to be cared for. He thinks raccoons are funny because they annoy his neighbours.

19.)  Any weird talents (besides their ultimate/shsl) that they’re secretly proud of (like rapping for example)?

He’s pretty good at The Sex. He can dance the typical white boy dances, like the worm. He can do a ridiculous number of press ups and run for miles.

20.)  Tell me a random story about them!

Once upon a time Bett’s little sister was screaming and crying and generally sending him up the wall, so he covered her mouth to stop her without realising he actually covered her nose too. She almost died before his mother came in and realised what was happening (to be fair, he was also young-ish and didn’t understand what he was doing). It was then that he realised a) he was less caring than other people and b) he had to hide that under a layer of charm or he’d get into big trouble and be a social outcast.

21.) Do they have any illnesses or disabilities?

Bett looks down on weakness. But he has mild dyslexia. he just doesn’t consider that a problem since he shouldn’t need to read or write or do maths. People can do it for him.

22.)  Left handed or right handed?

Left handed for almost everything, but he uses scissors and writes with his right hand because that’s how he was taught by his teachers and father (because left handedness is a sign of the devil or whatever).

23.)  How would they react to being locked up in a school with no foreseeable time of leaving?

Can he play sport? No? Then man, he is pissed off. He wants out so he can be reunited with his fame. But, similarly, he’d also figure that said fame would get him freed at some point so he might as well enjoy it, if the surrounding area is luxurious, as he deserves.

24.) Will they miss their old high school? Why?

Nah. Bett doesn’t miss people or things. Waste of energy.

25.) Do they like the outdoors? If so, what’s their favourite outdoor activity and any memories linked to that?

Bett likes the outdoors because it lets him play sport, but he doesn’t care for it other than that. His favourite activity would be american football, his best memory being when he was still a rising star and helped his team reach a very coveted title or w/e the Big Thing would be for american football lmao. Do they get man of the matches? If so, he would have remembered getting that.

26.) How important is their talent to them? Does it not mean much or would they die for it?

Bett would die for it, yeah. Sports and the subsequent fame is the most important thing to him, the only thing that makes life worth living.

[dredshirtroberts]

y’all it’s been a month and i’m drunk so i’m gonna ramble

you know what FUCK HIM.

i have wasted my life focusing and obsessing over people who are not deserving of my loveliness.

Like i’m a disaster trashcan don’t get me wrong, but fuckin’....i’m worth more than people who don’t give a fuck about me.

there’s one guy right now that i’ve kinda been focused on for a lil while but I know it’s not ever going to happen so i’m just like...*shrug emoji*

but like...of all the people i’ve ever liked he’s probably the closest to someone i’d actually be happy with.

and i’ve been struggling with the whole sexual identity thing recently because honestly, i like dudes a lot more than i like the ladies - but I DEFINITELY like some ladies y’all. so like...i’m super attracted to the masculine, but I feel uncomfrotabel with that because I feel like...that’s not allowed?????

idk

Also I’m not sure how I feel about vagina...like...i don’t even like my own so how’m i supposed to like someone elses’sess? 

Fuck

I have a super high libido but like I don’t have “sexual attraction” i think? unless sometimes??? fuckin...

y’all my sexuality has always been a grey space and part of that is because I’m gender fluid but my preferences don’t change with my gender so it’s like super...idk

I should not be doing a text post this far into my cups y’all.

but I got some good music and I got a Big Ass Bottle of wine (BAB) that i’m onlay like...a third thru. and I’m lookin to get CRUNK tonite.

my fucikn disliexia man. i can’t spell for SHIT anymroe.

but i dont’ have to TRY. like...ain’t no one gonna judge me for my spelling and if they do what the fuck ever man. I ain’t got no one to please but myself and I can’t fuckin’ spell.Never done been able to do so in the first place.

I just...

I’m trying to get my shit together and it’s really fuckin hard because I honestly...am not cut out for capitalism. I’m looking at alternative jobs until my dad can hire me on full time because fuckin...i don’t want to be beholden to a fuckin corporation. i just wanna chill and handle my schedule on my time. need to do banking? I can go handle that at any point in the day and not worry about how long my break is. Wanna treat myself to lunch? Fuck yeah, go to lunch and enjoy yourself bitch. Need a haircut? Just do it hunty. 

I just...

I love the experience my current job has given me but i hate hte work. I don’t wan tot do it. how can I work from home and make a reliable amount of money? Maybe I start writing listicles. fuck yeah I coudl do that. 

Mom gave me a super nice compliment last saturday. Apparently I write well when I’m inspired. So like...if I could do that for the rest of my life I totes would because I FUCKIN LOVE writing my thoughts out. y’all i’m so good at it too. 

my glass is empty and i gotta pee...fuck...gimme a second.

...

aiight we back

fuckin...

So when I was younger my favorite bestest memories with my family were my parents and I just sitting down with a hockey game or anything paused on the fuckin tv while we just...sat and goddman...kibitzed. If that’s not a word it is now.

So in order to do the thing now I just turn my music up so I can’t ear anything else on whatever music app I’ve got while I get drunk as fuck and scroll thru the internet and shit.

I can’t fuckin read when I drink (barely can type so like...y’all if you can read this you fuckin amazing and you deserve a hug when I get to see you next) so like i’m limited. plus with the music up I don’t listen to videos I watch so...if I ever reblog a thing that the music is very bad (tm) let me know and I’ll listen to it properly because I probably did not listen.

I just...

fuck i just wanna make out with someone you know? I fuckin love kissing y’all. Kiss me all day long. I’m a fuckin sucker for it. Anyone. doesn’t matter if who you are or what your are or wahtever, I just wanna kiss you. cause like...that’s what I enjoy. no strings, no feelings (unless you want there to be). I haven’t had a proper makeout session in AGES. since I moved from c-burg. and even then that was...relatively not so great because dude could not kiss at ALL. i miss it y’all. i miss kissing so fuckin much. 

And the saddest part of my whole life? i have had so few chances to kiss and make out and fuckin I spent the past four and a half years with someone who didn’t even like it.

I wasted that time when I could ahve been kissing someone who fuckin’ deserved it and wasn’t a self-centered asshole.

cause like..FUCK HIM. He fucked me the fuck over and wants to play the victim. I’m tired of trying to be chill about shit and the bigger person and not slander his fucking name because he fucked me up. I’m fucked the fuck up because of him! I am so screwed and I had some part in the failing of our relationship I don’t want to deminish that fact but frankly I was not the biggest contributer to the bad bits. Frankly I did the most to try and keep that hsit together and he did fuckin NOTHING. 

I’m glad his mother lvoes him because otherwise he’s fuck out of luck y’all. Can’t even take care of his fuckin self. I mean I can’t take care of me neither but like...I’m better at it than he is.

I at least know how to run a household. 

DANCE FLOOR COVER OF I’M WITH YOU HOLY SHIT OKAY MY 13YO SELF IS JUST HAVING A MOMENT OKAY???

but yeah like...i fuckin...bent over goddamn backwards for a grown ass man who couldn’t function further than a 16 yo boy and you know they ain’t got self-sufficiency. I was the younger in the relationship but I was lightyears (yes i know it’s a distance) ahead of him maturity-wise.

is it so wrong to want to be taken care of, for once? I’ve spent my whole life caring for others and caring for myself. can’t someone care for me? just occasionally. id on’t really ask for much. I honestly just want someone to be cuddly with me and care about me. Take care of me when I’m sick like I take care of them when they’re sick. not ignore me, or brush me off when I’m talking, but understand when I’m needing time to myself.

Someone to sit with me and listen to music and drink and have a good time. Watch comedy specials and fun shows that we BOTH like. or at least show some interest in finding out what I enjoy and maybe giving it a try. Do you know how many things I gave up entirely because he wouldn’t enjoy them? so many. mroe than I want to think about.

I jsut...

I changed my life for him and I can’t get what I had back for a very long time and I am so MAD. but like at the same time...fuck him, you know?

like...he doesn’t deserve any emotional energy i’m putting into this. 

And...and the cats? Yeah...talking about that finally was a turning point for me. I’m still really fucked up about it but...I’ll move on. I lived so many years without anyone or anything relying on me and me not relying on anyone. I can do it again. 

Shit I’ve been more comfortable since i movd out. I haven’t even really felt lonely. I just...there are some aspects of a relationship that i miss even though some of them I never had in the first place???

so i’ve been missing them since before I was in a proper relationship? I’m 27 and I haven’t had a partner who gave a shit about me, ever. I have never had anyone have a crush on me and if they have then they apparently didn’t give enough of a shit about that to bring it up. I’ve had crushes on so many people and I’m terrible with secrets so anyone I’ve had a crush on has been told. 

and all of them are in happy healthy relationships. well. or halfway across the globe and I told them at the worst possible itme and I have like 0 chance because he definitely does not give a shit about me outside of frienship. but that’s fine.

it’s not but i’m going to pretend it is because...well...in some ways I’m more comfortable living in my fantasy world where i can maladaptively daydream about shit that will never happen because it’s easier.

anyway...

this has gone on for a lot longer than initially intended and i have no idea what iv’e written but i know it’s laden with typos. sorry abt that.

i love you all and you all are completely and utterly special to me. i hope you have a lovely evening/night/day and i want you to know that i care about you and your health and safety. don’t forget to drink water and get proper amounts of sleep for your situation. i love you <3

[aleatoryalarmalligator]

Life Story Part 11

I don't think I've ever been happy for more than six months in my entire life since I was four or so. Is that normal? I don't know how to gauge that sort of thing because I really have nothing to compare it to. It seems normal to me, but that might just be because I am kind of fucked up in a way.

So back to the story. Everything that I had mentioned with my dad occasionally knocking me down to nothing was still happening. I was still getting picked on in Kendrick. I was still unpopular. I couldn't seem to manage to have a crush on any of the boys. I still drew on my papers, got sent to the offices. I remember the school lighting very well, and the creak of the boards under the school rugging.

My mother forgot my 11th birthday party three weekends in a row. Roxanne had chilled out about being mean to me at this time. She had decorated with a cake and streamers. After the third time we stopped expecting her to arrive. And when she did, she had just bought some stuff from the good will, some socks and a music box. We had moved out of the new place that we had rented, and we had taken up residence in this old house with a basement. It was a bit bigger in this place. I made the mistake one day of shaving my arms there. For some reason this memory sticks out to me. I was always told not to, that if I started I could never stop, but I wanted to see what would happen so I took that jump. The soft baby hairs were replaced by a forest of dark upright hairs. And now to this day I shave my arms.

It was disappointing and hurtful for my mother to forget my birthday so many times in a row, but it's also in a strange way relieving to know where you stand. I think my mom's absence made me more resilient when I got older and gave me a wider appreciation for nature to a degree which would be hard to explain at this juncture. Some kids with inactive parents pine and wonder if their parents care. I pretty much knew where my mother stood. Everyone was always hungover during the day, so we all had to tiptoe until four pm or so. David could wake her up sometimes. James eyes were always bloodshot and he was so high he couldn't tell what people were even saying to him half the time. He had smelled up this disgusting downstairs room up, and he him and my mom would watch a lot of 70's kung foo. I cannot imagine how gross it must have been to be them. To be drunk all the time, wasting what was left of their semi-middle age youth in that gross smelly room going nowhere being nothing and watching those dollar store movies. Spending the last of the divorce money.

Outside, there were two female cats that kept having baby kittens. I spent all my waking hours outside with those cats, until I felt like I was a cat myself. I remember growing to really understand that mother cats have a lot of depth, and they do each other solids a lot. Eventually, this one mother cat, when she was hungry or needed a break, trusted me so much with her kittens that she would do this communicative thing where she would give me this prolonged eye contact and I could read on her face that she was having me watch her kittens till she got back. I have met people who told me that cats cannot really communicate like this, but I know for a fact they do.

I also learned that male cats rape. It's one of those unfortunate elements in nature I guess. I really don't like it, and I think it might be in situations like this that give me a strong sense that there really is no god. Forget war. Why would any sensible god give male cats a barbwired dick? It seems like many animals do a somewhat voluntary exchange. But cats, an otherwise wonderful complex and naturally beautiful creature of elegance and grace, also have this fowl rape culture thing going on that is ingrained in their nature. What sense does this make? I mean, I might see it with insects or something, but why cats? I never liked it one bit. It bothered me so much that eventually I tried my best to stand guard and prevent the male cat from getting the female cats, who were already sickly from having had so many batches. And then one day, I went outside and he had one of the baby kittens bitten to the ground and he was raping this little baby. I know he probably could not help what was making him do this, but I was so infuriated. I ran up to him and I kicked him as hard as I could. I kind of considered the female cats like a family.

I eventually took one of the little female kittens home to father's with me, and I named her Pixie. I had her for a few  years after that. Eventually, while my dad was on vacation when I was in 8th grade, she scratched one of my nephews. This made Roxanne's boyfriend at the time creepy angry, and he took her and dragged her to death in the back of his truck. I didn't know it had happened for a long time after that, but eventually Roxanne admitted this to me. She wasn't apart of it, and had only heard it after the fact. She had been afraid to tell me for some time. It makes me deeply sick in the stomach just thinking of that.

For a short time we had a dog as well. She was on the side of the road. Someone had dumped her because she was obviously a handful. She loved to get loose and roll in dead animal. We named her Angel. Eventually she ran away and never returned. I can only hope she found a good home.

I started going to Sunday school, since the church was a two minute walk from my house. I was never religious, but the mythology of Christianity was very interesting to me. I liked talking about the symbolic significance of every detail in the bible, and going over it in class. I also liked the fact that it was brutal, unfair, and rigid. I suppose I was supposed to like the main characters, including God, but I didn't, which made the entire thing all the more fascinating. I always felt frustrated after reading the bible texts. I don't know why people think that stuff is comforting. At best, it's profound enough to where you really have to think about what it means for modern society, and at worst, it really makes you question why anyone in their right mind is buying this stuff. I was also fascinated with the genealogical order of genesis. I used to be able to name off all the prophets from Adam down to King Solomon. I often times knew their wives, and even their handmaids.

Honestly, I was a little jealous of the bible. Here I was drawing these squeaky clean Alien girls in their late teens, dressed in pure fashion and having names like Paprika and Daffodil, and there were these gritty ugly characters who were always struggling with and and under the psychosis of a sky god lunatic who were much better. And yet it addressed human greed, order, jealousy, betrayal, forgiveness, and all those things that my alien girls completely failed to.

My mom decided to start sewing for awhile. She sewed me a decent Halloween hippie costume, perhaps to make up for missing my birthday so many times in a row. It was one of the few times in that many years time that I really spent any time with her. She taught me how to sew – kind of. I remember her telling me that she was tired of telling her I hated myself. I said I hated myself a loud every day just about. But she really could not say anything really. Everyone in the house confirmed I was annoying, weird, funny looking, and obviously forgettable enough to forget my birthday. My mom also decided that she and James were going to get married. The dresses she had in mind would be green she told me. That might have been why she got her sewing stuff out. My Halloween costume was good though, and it made a splash at school. She made things into patches, and she added flare to all my sleevings of my pants and shirt.

Overall though, I was increasingly frustrated with rage and self hatred. She made me mad one day. I don't remember the reason, but I think it was because David was spoiled, or I had been overlooked or mistreated in some way. I wish I knew why, but I don't really remember. I lost complete and total control. We had about 40 board games in the closet. I found myself screaming and crying in a way I didn't ordinarily. It felt like no matter what I did I failed and I wanted to destroy myself, but I didn't have the means or the bravery to go through with it, and I wanted to tear something apart. I took every single board game, and all their parts and I poured them all over the floor. The entire room was covered in board game pieces. It was complete madness. Naturally, this didn't make anyone happy with me in the least. Everyone was told to ignore everything I said and did to make me feel like a fool. They told me to clean it up, but I wouldn't. I didn't feel good about what I had done either.  The monopoly man and the Plum dude from Candy land looked up at me accusingly. Eventually James came in and had his one little speech of things that he ever said to me for the four years I knew him. He said in this stoned hippie voice 'God man. How could you do this to your mother man?... after all your dad did to her, and now you wanna be just like him... it makes me sick... it just makes me so sick you would be so uncool. Your mother does so much for you and this is how you treat her? What's wrong with you?' and a tangent of other rhetorical nonsense.

David had grown so spoiled that I also was having troubles keeping calm in his presence. He started being very defiant and aggressive towards me and Allison and my mother. He was mean. I would find myself getting so angry, I would turn around and smack him in the face. Now, to be clear, I would not do this now. I was eleven, and this was kind of how I understood things were to be done. I was trying very hard to discipline David since he wasn't getting disciplined from my mother or father. I was so angry back then, and I didn't even have a clue on how to handle my own feelings. My mother would scream and cry and I remember she had a fight in front of the house, telling my dad over and over 'SHE'S GOING TO KILL SOMEONE DAVE!! SHE'S EVENTUALLY GOING TO KILL OUR SON!' My father didn't see me as the murdering type, and he seemed pleased that she was displeased in a postdivorce sort of way.

The most pivotal moment in this cat-house – as I have grown up calling it, though it isn't what someone might think it is by that name, was one night when I stayed up very late to watch Kiki's Delivery Service with Allison, who was four at the time. Allison had never stayed up past midnight before, and I wanted to keep her up to see what she was like. She seemed very loopy. She was babbling and talking about something or other about kitties or the movie, something a small child might talk about, and I was listening to her for fun. Suddenly, I started hearing this weird crashing noise in the other room. There was no door to that room. The windows did not open. Nobody was in that room. It was David's room theoretically, though he actually slept with my mom most of the time. I tried to ignore it, but I heard it again. It sounded like someone had picked up one of David's toys and threw it. It might have been my fear and paranoia at that point, but I felt like something in the house had gotten really wrong somehow. I didn't want to scare Allison though. If she was scared, that would make me even more frightened. She heard the noises too, but I was trying to pretend that they were not worthy of consideration so she didn't start to scream

As I sat there, what I suddenly saw blew me away and I could barely believe I was seeing it. This man figure walked through the hallway. Everything looked mostly normal, and then he just kind of moved through that part of the house, past the doorway where I could see him wandering past. He seemed to be made out of light, and I could not see his features. And then he was gone. I was beyond panicked. I was ready to start screaming and crying, but I was too afraid to even do that. I was too afraid to move. Allison seemed to have missed it. I was paralyzed for a few minutes, afraid to do anything. Nothing else strange happened, and the house seemed to return to a normal feeling, though I was still at this point so scared I was crying. Eventually I got my mother up, sure that she would see the significance. But she didn't seem to care. She was mostly annoyed that I woke her. I forced her to sleep upstairs on the couch anyway.

As an adult, and a skeptic, I can not be 100% certain what I saw was accurate. Perhaps it was my mind playing tricks on me? Allison confirmed for a fact that she heard the noises that I had heard, but she didn't see anything. It's possible, and not at all out of the realm of possibility that I might have been so scared by the initial noises that my brain made up something that wasn't there. I can never really know anything anyway now though, because the memory is a flexible unstructured thing. I generally don't go over this memory much anymore because every time you go over a memory, you change that memory. I haven't thought about a lot of these situations in years actually. I trust my memory a little better than some though. Part of the reason for this is that I have generally always written everything down, even when I was a kid. So I would memorize the words, or the story itself apart from my direct memory of it, but associated as well. Which definitely creates memory discrepancies of it's own, but at the same time it solidifies the story somewhat. All I can really do is try to be honest. And honestly, I felt with the entire fiber of my being that I had seen a ghost.

Anyway, until another sleepless night occurs.

If you want to read my life story so far, here are the previous parts.

PART 10 -  http://tinyurl.com/yb734w24

PART 9 - http://tinyurl.com/yc2t6vfw  

PART 8 - http://tinyurl.com/ybl37utq

PART 7 - http://tinyurl.com/ybvo283g

PART 6 - http://tinyurl.com/kbc9dwu

PART 5 - http://tinyurl.com/msnz4am

PART 4 - http://tinyurl.com/k9x8esg

PART 3 - http://tinyurl.com/mwp9atx

PART 2 - http://tinyurl.com/lbt6xq2

PART 1 - http://tinyurl.com/l8xbvg8

[raybansandcoffee]

Always In My Head - A London Calling Series: The Wild Rover (The Pogues)

Annie

“Your alarm is obnoxious,” I heard Harry groan next to me as I reached over to shut off the alarm. “I know, I’m sorry babe. I have to get up and get ready for work.” “You are crazy. You don’t need to work. Patrick and Frankie both told you that you are probably too out of practice and that you should just hang out with Alyssa and I today.” He pulled me into him and his lips connected with my shoulder. “I am not out of practice. I bartended on New Year’s Eve.” “And were out of practice,” he whispered. “Everyone pitches in on St. Patrick’s Day. Alyssa is even bartending so I am spending the day with her.” “I find it funny that she gets 10 days in England and she is allowing Paddy to put her to work.” “She misses it the way I do and St. Patrick’s Day is a shit show in any Irish Pub in the world so I may as well pitch in and help out with the shit show I love most,” I said laughing. “Fine. I don’t want to get up yet though,” he whined. It was 6:45, I was going to meet the crew at 8:00 to help with set up. “Well, we are taking the tube there this morning. And you are not to drive, Mister.” “I think that because Lyla is also crazy and helping today Niall is coming to pick me up and they are just leaving their car at O’Brien’s tonight.” “As long as you aren’t driving today I don’t care. I don’t let people I love do stupid things, especially today. Now I need to get in the shower.” I climbed out of bed and walked into the bathroom. “You could’ve at least put a shirt on and not walked across the room naked. I hate you sometimes,” he yelled after me. I laughed as I started music and hopped in the shower. I knew that listening to Dropkick Murphy’s ‘Live on St. Patrick’s Day’ was bound to make Harry cranky this morning but I didn’t care. It put me in a good mood for a fun and perhaps crazy day ahead of me. After showering I threw on my clothes. We had a special shirt for the staff today that was bright green, I’d of course cut mine so that it wasn’t an oversized men's t-shirt. “Are you really bartending in a skirt all day?” “Yes,” I replied. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen me get ready to bartend and also wasn’t the first time he complained about what I wore to work. “Will you at least put leggings on under it?” He was propped up on his elbows, hair hanging in his eyes staring at me. “I mean I guess. But I make more tips this way,” I said laughing. “You don’t need the money,” he responded. “And I like knowing that your ass isn’t hanging out when you reach for a new bottle of Jameson.” “You are so not fun.” I went into the closet and found a pair of leggings that stopped mid-calf and put on a pair of green Nikes that I had specifically for today. “Better?” I asked scowling at him. “Yes, much better. Now come give me a kiss before you leave.” I went over and crawled onto the bed, leaning down to kiss him. His hand snuck beneath the short skirt and grabbed my ass. “Hey!” “I do like the skirt for that reason,” he said laughing into my lips. “I’m going to go make coffee and breakfast and make sure Alyssa is awake. Want to put on some clothes and come down for breakfast?” “I guess. Then I can shower while you do your hair and makeup.” “I’ll see you downstairs.” One more kiss and I grabbed the second O’Brien’s shirt I had in the room and headed down the stairs to the guest bedroom Alyssa was using. I knocked quietly in case I was waking her up. “Come in,” she called cheerily. I opened the door to see my best friend standing in front of me in tight, ripped black jeans and a bra. “You know if my fiancé had opened the door to you standing topless I maybe would’ve been upset.” I leaned against the wall. “Except you wouldn’t,” she responded. “He’s seen me in a bathing suit that covered less than this and he’s like my brother. The boy is in love with you, you have no worries.” “I know. I brought you a shirt you can put on,” I threw her a t-shirt that I’d cut a bit for her. She pulled it on and realized I’d made her a crop top and glared at me. “What do you think you’re doing?” “Earning you tips. Last year, I showed a lot more tit than I am this year. I made enough in tips that I think I funded a large portion of my trip to South America. I figure you can put this in your ‘Come back to visit my Sissa’ Fund that you need to have.” “Does this mean you’re going to tell your fiancé not to buy me a plane ticket for a gift?” “I’ve learned that I have no control over him and his money. Yet for some reason the jackass thinks he has control over mine. Made me wear leggings under my skirt.” “Take them off at the bar.” “I heard that!” Harry called as he walked down the stairs. He peaked in the door behind me as Alyssa tugged at her shirt a little. “She gets the tiny shirt this year, huh?” “At least I have a shirt on,” she retorted making Harry flip her off. He’d pulled on sweatpants but hadn’t wasted time on a shirt or from my expert knowledge, boxers. “Well Lyla, Niki and I were the tiny shirt crew last year,” I said. “You and Niall told Lyla and I no and Niki didn’t want to do it alone, so I told her that Alyssa would be her buddy. She wants the money. Visit Sissa fund, dude.” “Did you call him dude?” “That’s normal,” he replied. “I’ll go start coffee. You two will need it.” “This is just what I needed,” she said smiling. “You two give me hope that I will find something that doesn’t suck. And who doesn’t want to be in an Irish Pub in London on St. Patrick’s Day.” She raised an eyebrow at me. It was funny that I’d convinced her to spend this week in England with me as it was an Irish holiday. “I mean it’s as authentic as you’ll get…in London,” I said laughing. “And I’m sort of sorry that I got you a job for the day but considering you’ll get paid completely in cash I didn’t think you’d care.” “No, I wouldn’t. It will help me save for a house to get out of Mom and Dad’s.” “I know. And all of my tips today are going to the Sissa Fund.” “I love you,” she said hugging me. We’d been best friends since we were teenagers when she’d dated my best guy friend in high school. The last few months had been hell on her. She was in the process of a divorce and I hated being so far away from her. So for Christmas, Harry bought her a ticket to England so she could come see where I called home and have a while to not worry about what was going on at home. We talked every day when we could and texted on the days we couldn’t. He had grown used to popping in on our FaceTime chats and hated seeing that half of the time I cried when I got done because I hated being away from her when she was going through all of this. “I love you too. And despite him being cranky this morning, he loves you too.” “I know. Let’s go get that coffee he’s making,” she said and we took off down the stairs. Coffee and food were necessary this morning. And after a quick job on the makeup and hair we were out the door and headed to the tube station. We’d made it about a block when a car slowed next to us. “Get your ass in the car,” came a voice as the window rolled down. I smiled at Frankie and opened the door to hop in. “I figured you would already be at the pub,” I said. “I had intended to be but little Paddy was being pretty cute this morning. Lizzie had him in this stupid leprechaun outfit at breakfast. I couldn’t resist staying a little longer,” Frankie said as he handed me his phone with the picture of his youngest child and only boy in a full on leprechaun costume. I couldn’t help but laugh. Little Patrick was such a happy baby and completely spoiled by his Papa and namesake. Patrick was completely sure that if he talked to the little guy about football now that he’d grow up to be a star player. I loved the days when we’d all be at the pub for a Sunday lunch and Patrick would sit there with him in his lap in one of the oversized wingback chairs explaining the ins and outs of the sport to him. I had managed to snap a photo of them once that Paddy had put in a place of prominence in both his flat and the pub, directly next to the photo of his wife that he had in both places. “Oh my god, this kid is just too cute. Lizzy’s Mum is coming to watch them today right?” I asked. “Yeah,” Frankie replied. “So Alyssa, are you ready for a crazy day?” “Yeah, I mean I’ve worked a lot of St. Patrick’s Days in my life. One of which was in a British pub in Iowa that was jammed full of people who evidently missed the memo that there are Irish pubs not too far away.” “That was a funny year. But it won’t compare to today,” I said. “What time did you say that we open?” she asked. “10:00,” Frankie replied. We’ve got two hours this morning with staff to clear out the furniture that isn’t wooden or plastic and then everyone can take breaks up in the flat now that Niki is moved out.” “Did she managed to get everything out over the weekend?” I asked. “Yeah, she and her new guy got the last of it moved out while you were up visiting Harry’s Mum.” “Nice, I felt bad about not being there to help.” “She was fine. Her brothers all ended up in town too. Which was fuckin’ hilarious to watch them quiz down the boyfriend. They claim that because Niall gave him the seal of approval they are okay with it. But the kid was shaking in his boots.” “That’s hilarious,” I replied. I turned around to look at Alyssa. “So Niki and Niall dated for a few months like a year ago. It never got very serious because he left for tour in like April and they split before he left. But her new boyfriend is a friend of Niall’s that he introduced her to. Her brothers’ loved Niall because he was a good Irish kid. Niall’s friend is a Brit who doesn’t worship the Irish flag and football team. They started dating in December and this is the first any of her family met him. I’ll have to ask her about it today.” “That is sort of funny,” Alyssa said. “Niall does worship the Irish flag.” Alyssa had been able to meet everyone last summer when I got her tickets to come to the show the guys had in Chicago. She had clicked with everyone really well so it was fun that she was starting to get to know my England family now that she was able to make her first trip here. “That’s an understatement. I told him that he’s not allowed to show up wearing it as a cape today and embarrass Lyla.” “She doesn’t embarrass easily,” Frankie said. It was true, his sister-in-law often encouraged her crazy boyfriend to be even crazier. Frankie pulled into a parking spot behind the pub and we all got out. We went inside having arrived well before we had intended as we didn’t have to wait for the tube. We both started helping Frankie get the bar set up before the rest of the crowd started to filter their way in. Lyla and Lizzy snuck in together at about 8:10 which caused Frankie to tell them both that he saw the coffee in their hand that had made them late and scold them, until they produced a coffee for him and then me and Alyssa. Rolling in at 8:17 was Cameron in ripped jeans, the green shirt with the short sleeves cuffed and his sunglasses on. “I’m surprised you’re alive today,” I said hugging him and kissing his cheek. He’d been the unlucky member of the staff that closed the night before. He was Frankie’s right-hand man these days now that Frankie was taking a little more time to be a Dad. It meant he was the last out last night and would be tonight as well. “I slept upstairs,” he said leaning against the back of the bar resting his head on mine. “You haven’t been in at all this week when I’ve been here.” “I’ve been entertaining Alyssa the last two days and was prepping for her to get here before that.” I took a sip of my coffee, it was laced with peppermint Schnapps. I loved the Salisbury sisters. “Alyssa, come here. You need to meet Cam officially.” “It’s nice to meet you outside of a FaceTime window,” she said. When Cam and I had dated he got to know her via our numerous phone calls and chats. “Likewise,” he said. I pushed his sunglasses up into his hair. I saw him smile in a way I hadn’t seen in a while. “Annie has been excited about you getting here.” “I’ve been excited too. I needed a vacation.” “Oh yeah, sorry to hear about the divorce. Annie told me about it.” “It’s okay, I’m glad it is over. I wasn’t happy and I’m getting there now.” She smiled brightly. How did I not see this coming? I snuck over to Lyla and Lizzy. “Thanks for the Schnapps,” I said. “I figured you’d need it. I know I do,” Lizzy said. “Niall and Harry have instructions to bring refills for us,” Lyla said. “Did H agree to this?” “Niall wasn’t really going to tell him,” Lyla said. I had ended up a bit tipsy most of the day during St. Patrick’s Day last year from drinking when a customer would say ‘and one for you’ with their order. Harry had asked me to pace myself and not start in the morning this year. Oops. “You two are my favorites.” I looked back at Cam and Alyssa. “So I didn’t see that coming.” I pointed at them. “Neither did I,” Lyla said. “But I’m not surprised.” “Surprised about what?” Lizzy asked. “They are flirting,” I responded. “Are you okay with that?” Lizzy again jumped in with the question. “I mean it is your best friend that you call your sister and your ex-boyfriend.” “I don’t care. They would actually be good for each other, minus that whole she lives in a different country thing. But if it meant she came over here more often I’d be completely happy about it.” “True.” “And they are good for each other. That girl drank Niall under the table last summer.” “That isn’t hard,” Lizzy and I replied in unison. “You two are so mean. He’s not a lightweight.” “I know but he’s so easy to pick on.” I was giggling as Lizzy tried to pretend she hadn’t been picking on her sister’s boyfriend. “Alright team!” Frankie said as he climbed up onto a chair. There were probably 20 of us in here right now. Niki was over with the staff that would be in the kitchen today when I saw her. I waved excitedly before Frankie stared down at me like he was going to kill me. “Annie, pay attention, you’re going to need to know this.” At that Frankie went into his normal speech that he did before big days at the pub. The prices for drinks, where extra plastic cups were, and his other announcements. There would be water, coffee, energy drinks, and snacks up in the flat so that people could take breaks. He’d worked out a schedule for people’s shifts. Everyone would have at least enough time to sneak up for a nap and something to eat and depending on how long their shift was they’d be able to do that more than once. “I’m glad all of you are here today. Remember, have fun but be responsible.” “GO’briens!” I yelled. Frankie turned to look at me. “I don’t miss you working here,” he said laughing. “Yes, you do!” I yelled. “No, I don’t,” he replied. “Yes, you do!” When I yelled my response this time I wasn’t alone. Cam, Lizzy, Lyla, Niki and a few other staff members yelled it with me. Frankie just laughed. “Fine, I miss you but get your ass to work.” He jumped down and we started to clear all of the couches and chairs out and move the tables around. Most people knew that today would be a madhouse here and that tables were hard to come by but that didn't mean that we didn’t draw a huge crowd. At 9:45 we had everything set perfectly and everyone gathered around together. Cam handed out shots of Jameson to everyone and took one look at me and passed me by. “You get none,” he said. “What?” “You hate whiskey. Pour yourself a different shot.” I had mixed a few pitchers of a green shot that we did back home that tasted like Kool-Aid and poured myself one. “Everyone have their shot?” Patrick asked. He looked around to see that we all did. “To live above with the Saints we love, ah that is the purest glory. To live below with the Saints we know, ah that is another story.” The whole room raised their glasses. “Happy St. Patrick’s Day to you all.” “Sláinte!” the whole room yelled in response and threw back their shot. Patrick came over to me and put his arm around my shoulders. “I saw you skipping the Jameson. As much as I normally give you shit for that, it’s a good plan. I don’t need to peel you off me floor at noon.” “You are so mean,” I replied. He pulled me into a hug and kissed the top of my head. “I’m glad you’re back for today. It doesn’t seem right around here without you being a pain my arse.” “It’s the least I can do for you.” The doors opened and the crowd started to come in. The weather was surprisingly nice today and we had the windows open to let some air in. Alyssa and I were stationed together on one side of the bar one manning the beer taps and the other getting shots and mixed drinks. We were slammed the first two hours we were open. Both of us had pockets full of tips already. “So Cam, huh?” I said. “He seems nice and is obviously hot, which you know.” “I do know. I also know that he’s pretty much perfect for you.” “What?” she asked seeming shocked. She was in the midst of an order that had several pints of Guinness, which meant she had time in between each pour. “Yeah, he and I had fun together but you two. You’d be good together, and pretty hot.” “You don’t care that I’m flirting with your ex?” “Why would I? He’s my ex and I’m engaged to someone who is pretty fucking perfect for me.” “I’m glad you think so.” I jumped as Harry slid his arms around my waist. “What are you doing here?” “Niall and I decided we’d come early. He said that Lyla would probably need a second coffee so I said I’d join him. I caught that he was pouring booze in all of the cups and couldn’t help but laugh. You were hiding Schnapps from me?” “Maybe.” I also started to laugh along with him. “It’s yummy and I don’t get super hammered. And be thankful, Cam said I wasn’t allowed the traditional pre-open Jameson shot.” “I’m glad he did. We don’t need to peel you off of the floor at noon.” “You have been hanging out with Paddy too much,” I said. “You usually think that’s a good thing.” The two barstools at the end of the bar opened up and Harry slid to that side and saved one for Niall who was over talking to Lyla, she was waiting tables for this shift. Niall appeared quickly when he saw the empty stool. “Happy St. Patrick’s Day, Niall,” Alyssa said. “Same to you, Alyssa. Having fun working today?” “I am.” “She’s also getting to flirt with Cameron,” I practically sang. “You know…you two would be good for each other,” Niall said. “I shockingly agree with that,” Harry added. “That’s settled.” I turned to look for Cam. He was at the other end of the bar switching out some empty liquor bottles. “CAMERON EUGENE!” “Goddammit Ann Marie, how many times have I told you not to use my middle name.” “A million, at least.” “Well, consider this is a million and one. Don’t use my bloody middle name.” “I’ll make you a deal. If you ask Alyssa out on a date I’ll avoid the middle name for at least the rest of the day.” “Sissa!” Alyssa yelled smacking me and starting to turn red. “I was going to do it later when we all had a break together but if you have to be a complete shit and do this now then fine. Alyssa, if the two crazies you’re staying with don’t have you busy tomorrow night, how about I pick you up and take you out for a date?” “She’s free!” Harry yelled. “I’ll pick you up at her place at 7:00,” he replied. “Okay.” I reached to high-five Harry. “Good job, Dimples.” “Good catch, Sugar. Now can I have that shot of Jameson you weren’t allowed to have?” I poured a shot for both he and Niall and set it in front of them. He took the shot before standing on the run of his stool to lean over the bar and kiss me. “I love you.” “I love you.” “Stop making out!” Nate yelled as he walked over to us. “How did you two luck out and not have to be here for the 8:00 set up?” I asked. “I require my beauty rest,” Kim replied. “I had a conference call at 8:00,” Nate said. “We are the middle relievers, well he is,” Kim said. “I’m not really working today. Frankie told me that after trying to help on New Year’s Eve he’s done with me working here.” Kim had taken a bottle of champagne and hidden in Frankie’s office. It didn’t take long for us to find her but she was most of the way through the bottle. She didn’t want to work on St. Patrick’s Day, it was during the NCAA tournament and she had declared that she would babysit all three kids for an entire weekend if it meant she could have basketball on the TVs. Frankie was easily sold on that as it meant a weekend trip with his wife and no kids. Something they hadn’t done since she got pregnant with Little Paddy. They needed the time and I knew that Kim and Nate needed the practice. I knew it wouldn’t be long before they started trying to have kids. “You two are already doing shots,” Nate said as he came back behind the bar to hug and kiss both Alyssa and I. “I figure she’s ahead of me already,” Harry said. “Oh she is?” Kim asked. “Peppermint Schnapps in the coffee,” I said. “I blame Lyla.” “Good call! Can I get a beer and that TV on a basketball game?” I quickly handed her the beer she needed and switched the channel. “So Alyssa has a date tomorrow night,” I said smiling. “You are nuts,” Alyssa said laughing. “You do?” Kim asked, not even taking her eyes off of the basketball game. “Yeah, with Cam,” Harry replied. He’d given up his seat for Kim and was standing in the pathway that was usually for servers to get in and out. We had a very limited food menu today and not a lot of places to sit so as lunch time arrived we were starting to slow down. I saw Niki sneak out of the kitchen, as she approached I hugged her. “A date with Cam?” Nate asked as he poured a round of shots for a couple of college aged guys who were standing at the bar. He clearly knew he needed to take over for me because I was leaning against the bar with Harry wrapped around me. “Who has a date with Cam?” Niki asked. She handed a plate of food to Niall and put Harry’s in front of Kim who started to eat his lunch. He just laughed. “I’ll get you another order, Harry. Annie, did you want something to eat? Just for you I have french fries on the menu today.” “I want a giant plate of fries,” I said laughing. “And a grilled cheese. Oh and Alyssa has a date with Cam.” “I can totally see that,” Niki said. “If it is a decent date maybe we can all meet back here for drinks. Though Cam may want to go somewhere else. He’s lived here for a week.” “Here is good,” Kim said. She knew there would be basketball on for her. “He will go wherever if Annie tells him to and if he thinks he stands a chance with Alyssa. Nate and I are in.” “We are too,” I said. “Lyla and I will be here. Hey Nik, how did you move go over the weekend?” “It went well. Though my brothers were nightmares to Tom. I thought the night would never end. Until he finally said that you had called earlier and it clicked with them that he was your friend. Then they stopped acting like a bunch of fucking twats.” “Poor guy, your brothers can be brutal. But the new place is nice?” “Yeah,” she said. “I need to come see it soon,” I said. “We should hopefully have everything settled in the next few weeks and then we will have everyone over for dinner.” “I am in,” Kim said. “You have the best dinner parties.” “She’s a chef, it doesn’t count,” I said. “It does. She wins in that area,” Kim replied. She was the only person in the bar not wearing green today. Kentucky played later and she needed her blue on. “Fine. Whatever.” “I do have some new things that I want to try out on everyone before I make them for Frankie. I wanted to do some new specials for April.” “Your taste testers are ready!” Niall and Kim high-fived each other. The fact that all three of them were still this close made me happy despite Niall and Kim’s weekend fling and the few months that he and Niki were together. Lyla snuck over and stole a fry off of Niall’s plate before kissing him. “You hungry?” he asked her. “Starving. My break is in a half hour.” “Are you going to go upstairs?” I asked. “Nah, I’m going to steal Niall’s chair and let Kim teach me about basketball,” Lyla said. “I like you more and more every day,” Kim replied laughing. “Did I hear you shout the full name at Cam?” Lyla asked. “Yeah, he has a date with Alyssa tomorrow,” I said. Alyssa had somehow managed to end up leaving Nate by himself so she could go change the keg in the back. “Lizzy!” Lyla yelled. Her sister was standing only a few feet away. “What?” “Cam and Alyssa. We called it! They have a date tomorrow.” “Nice! That should be good.” “We are all meeting up for drinks after,” Niall added. “Here? That will be fun,” Lizzy said. “Frankie is here tomorrow so I’ll meet you guys up here too. It will be like old times!” “It will be,” I said as I turned to look at Harry. “You look cute today.” “Niall tried to dress me,” he said. He was wearing a green plaid shirt and black jeans. “He said that I couldn’t claim my eyes were my green.” “I think you could’ve.” “I know. My hope was also that you’d pinch me bum all day.” I reached down and pinched his ass quickly. “Like that.” He leaned down to kiss me. “Stop making out!” Nate yelled. Alyssa finally returned with flushed cheeks. “You were making out too. Weren’t you?” “What?!” She was shocked by Nate’s question. “She was,” Cam replied. “But don’t be an arse. She shouldn’t have to tell you anything.” “So you’re going to tell him?” Alyssa asked laughing. “Yes, because he won’t leave either of us alone. And neither will Annie.” “I wouldn’t,” I said. “Nate just has a sense for when people are making out. Okay so while you’re both here, after your date tomorrow we are all meeting here for drinks. Let Alyssa have a decent night at O’Brien’s when there aren’t a bunch of drunk people and all of us are working. Only Frankie works tomorrow night.” “I am okay with that,” Alyssa said. “I guess I can share the night with you idiots,” Cam said. He looked happy and the smile on Alyssa’s face told the whole bar she was. I don’t know how I hadn’t put this together before today but I should’ve. Cam was a decent guy and deserved someone nice. Alyssa deserved a lot better than the hand that had been dealt to her over the past few years. It was going to be fun to see where this went. If anything, Kim and I were proof that sometimes all you need is a big change and a lot of adventure. “You’re already planning out their kids’ names aren’t you?” Harry whispered in my ear. “Maybe.” “This is why I love you, even when you’re crazy.” “I love you,” I said turning around to again kiss him. “All this making out. It’s St. Patrick’s Day, not Valentine’s. Get a damn room!” Nate yelled. “Fuck off!” Harry replied before kissing me again. “All this PDA when there is a game on,” Kim said. “Blasphemous.” “Whatever,” Lyla said as she rested her head on Niall’s shoulder and he fed her another french fry. I caught Cam wink at Alyssa before leaning down and kissing her in front of all of us. “Whoa!” Harry and I both said at the same time. “Now you’re all going to make me wish Tom was off and here. Only a few more hours and he gets to join the fun.” This was just the sort of thing that made me love my friends and this place. O’Brien’s was full all day. Everyone wanted to be Irish on St. Patrick’s Day and where better than here. At some point later in the night as everyone started to relax and have a few more drinks the crowd parted so that Niall, Nate and Alyssa could play music. Nate and Niall on guitars and Alyssa on a fiddle. Frankie and Patrick both looked proud of the way their bar was functioning, despite the fact that at 3:00 I declared I was done and started to drink with Harry. Patrick told me I’d made it two hours further than he had guess and three further than Frankie had. Niki was off as soon as the kitchen was closed as we weren’t serving dinner tonight. She joined us just as Tom arrived. Lizzy snuck away to go tuck the kids in and Lyla sat in awe of her boyfriend. This was my little family all crammed into this bar. There wasn’t a way I’d rather spend St. Patrick’s Day than with this crazies. “You’re going home,” Harry said. I was a bit tipsy but not nearly as bad as I’d been by this time the year before. “Alyssa, are you coming with us?” “Yes, let me go see Patrick to get my money,” she said. She hurried over to the bar to find him. “I need to get Lyla in bed too,” Niall said. She was nearly asleep on his shoulder at this point. “I’m ready to go watch basketball in my bed,” Kim said. She had such odd sleeping habits during the tournament because of the time difference. “And I’m ready to listen to her shout at the TV in bed,” Nate said. “And maybe finally make out with her since all of you assholes have been doing it all day.” “You weren't kidding about how much money I’d make today,” Alyssa said. She had a roll of bills in her hand. “Best St. Patrick’s Day ever.” “I’d agree with that,” Cam said as he snuck up behind her. “I’ll call you when I get up in the morning. Maybe I’ll come pick you up before 7:00.” “Sounds perfect.” She leaned over and quickly kissed him. It made me happy to see her happy. “Well, we are taking off too,” Niki said. “I have to be back here before lunch tomorrow to get the kitchen ready.” “See you tomorrow night,” I said. It wasn’t long before we were all on the train headed back home. Kim was watching basketball on her phone and Alyssa was gushing about Cam. We walked to our house before saying our goodbyes to Kim and Nate who headed towards theirs. “I’m really glad you didn’t make the bed this morning.” “You haven’t even taken your clothes off,” Harry said laughing at me. I’d fallen face first into my pillow. I felt him pull my shoes off and my leggings before going for my skirt. I pulled my bra off under my t-shirt and tried to crawl under the cover. “Arms up.” He pulled my t-shirt off of me and pulled his from yesterday on over my head. “Your shirt smells like beer. You aren’t sleeping in it.” “Fine,” I said before planting my face back into the pillow. I felt the bed sink and Harry’s arms wrap around me. “I love you,” he whispered in my ear. “I love you.”

A quick treat for St. Patrick's Day and all of the fans of London Calling ! If this is the first that you're meeting Annie, Harry and all of their friends head over and check out London Calling. This is a series of one-shots that tie into the full story. A new chapter of London Calling is coming soon as well as the completion of that story!

Happy St. Patrick's Day! Be safe!

[mrmonde-blog1]

HERE YEYE

Malachi four Mf, mfenesi, matako french, mfinish, mfereji/tap, mfangano-mfawheat, wit. Who to the people who long to see the lords Day LD, last days. Solomon was kamba blooded, togo as sheep and goat parable alluded, babadoz out of her mom, wast david son but ones of the soldier who arested bethseba from the bathing place- women with barnabas- uriagikuyou, kikuyuria he was and thats why he was killed coz he love many women and italy feared the repercussion of his kid- mfalme wa yawhodi, king of the jew. David was maleysian, kauma, akwampi as ghana loved kupigana, fight as italianaftali tribe, chinis, cameroon, ajentina and Norwegian blooded. Ezekiel was kikuyou, kisii, luya, luo and of Zebulan tribe as bulgeria if you eat dried cinchona leaves, wild penicillin, njungu the spirit directs you to see. Jeremia was ajentina, zebulan, luya, luo, nigerian blooded. Malachi four- for what purpose should i join and the money you claim to own you get free of church online and even me can get that. With women i can get using that money, with job i dont want. Christ with the poor- leave them alone once the links of the online cash are disenabled, they just got mango as the large cash crop and can be grown anywhere in any nation- the road to Emaus with yesus. Ten minas parable-google bro. South East Asia SEA Nyamawho can grow as much as Ethiopia, Congo Etc So for what are you priding dude- king of the jew- worker and vineyard parable- another version dude. Kisea, hosea, hosipitali, with his wives, tenesea, ona is to sea as to visualize. Nyama, meat, women, nyamaza, ling, tulia, link, connect people, names etc, Nyanza province wher is majorly and naturally found, in south nyanza as homa bay it also growa- ten minas in mathew twentyfive. https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100035503241457https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100035503241457 Mfensi also the want as wide hipe or big booty medicinw- mfalme wa yawhodi- Ae can be copied i mean can die but the mfenesi or nyamau tree cant die unless cut so its convinient and durable like sunshine. They are dwindling about it, beating upon the bust, deviating from the reality to make people have the same curse it did to Eve and Adam if only you known prior of the consiquences. Weed parable, little kids with christ, king of the jewomen, good neighbour with christ to cement the truth. They want to sell it, make it a cash crop so they are interested in sub-saharan africa to the point of enticing the locals a long time b4. Disadavnatge is , it gives you the business mind like it did to my hommy monde. Chinis has built so much investment for the locals to see, now they wanna bring container houses to see again- they want you toi continue with your slogan that china, usa, Germany is good on Tv yet the houses have been brought to compare and they are cheap. Failure to accept the truth nothing can now be done but annihilation maybe with siren gas. The bible was changed on this area that makes raila feels he can change the jew-Egyptian thing and evade hell fire- no dude its wrong and you must do right in worker and vineyard parable and obey the8th commandment you should not still- click this link below to support the damning truth people. 8th one you Ai Destroyed kings Aids, he had aid raila and brought to Earth bro. With http://www.2goinvoice.com software we use mozilar firefox for mobile or android phone as smart phone and in Kisumu-kenya you can get the software at weed weed cyber at Mega plaza building that houses the new tuskys supermarket Downtown. If you partake landana, mwarubaine or ground nuts you became intuitive and all the problems associated with ship sinking, bus falling as well as plane, hiroshima bombing, you see chinis people ambasador liasing with the terorists to do these absurdities like The NY terorist attack. The chinis are the ones doing these crimes to the point of her ambassador to kenya talking to susan in that vista. Not good people atleast America, they cant be superpower who should be good mediators but they have seen people marshaling to beat them so they relent. We wanna know what china can do if America or Europe pretends to be bad, will they still join them or go against them- goat parable- to thwart the manouver of new superpower. People in jail with monde kevinelson were humphrey eteni, melani, decolbat carlos friends with kas, wilson williams, mike of wsu. In wsu were linet gathernji cousins with patric, sharon muchina, moses irugu, jeswin josef of kuwait, nicolas of malaysia, majij bajaj of iran call them to accertain the truth alonside BMI25 and pulserate68. melchizedek of wsu and open doors wichita,ks. These are all the witnesses http://bibleblender.com/2011/bible-stories/old-testament/genesis/abrahams-trip-to-egypthttp://bibleblender.com/2011/bible-stories/old-testament/genesis/abrahams-trip-to-egypt Share land percel housing strategy- you got a prime land somewhere, we evaluate the value of the land then we invite people to contribute money to build a story hse or hotel, school, hospital then you will get part of the rent of the whole project as per your percentage of the total cost to build the project plus your land money instead of leaving the land fallow. Stop the mayasma of doing small-tumbo businesses like operating a hardware and so on- fellaz think big. Do not spare them if the phone size BMI machine is outside, just point at her like remote control and if it doesnt match his /her BMi take something and hit him like a snake God inficted on Raila after deluding adam and eve at nyandiwa bar kalare near the spring and stream. Ai Abaluya, akamba, agikuyou Icon Ai in joshua eight JE, jest, tugomchezo, play- vineyard and worker parable to cement the truth. Nyako-mathiringinyi ma ratengo asuzo bwana. Eliminate Acid battery or water that it uses, introduce to cars, machines inbuilt battery within the Engine that is like the phone battery- you cant open lid and add acid into it- then they will be stranded after their departure plunging kids into problemo- king of ther jewomen. The voltage can be reduced to 9.5 v so that the invator uses it not coz when voltage drops below 10 it switches off automatically unless you open inside and remove the voltage regulator to enable it use even upto 4 v but the list of blasphemy was removed so you do what you wanna do and you wont escape hell fire. They want you to go to hell dude as August town Song by duan Stephenson- google bro!!! Young kids will play with the lion after they have eaten ng'anga bird and play with the serpent after they have transformed to people like Railamolo who cheated adam and even who was changed to snake and they shall not fear. The white people had known prior of nyamau fresh mouth herb so they became linient to kisiis so its there time to reap, scratch my back i scratch your, nyamau herb alone can start a nation SAN of man, un unknown God with poul in acts 17, Ten minas parable. Dont change with us, do to us likewise we did to you we also did artificial insemination with your men bsperm to share your genes. Abagusi icon Ai was boxer in MARS, mchezaji ndondi b4 being brought to Earth and later cheated Adam and Eve to commit sin coz he had known the fruit prior in mass, the had small buttocks and mfenesi widens your hips and makes your booty big, they were too slim. Cut the tree and its roots was two fold, Railamolodingagwambo or Nyamau tree roots which are used as the free-mouth herb but nyamau can be grown even in SA or congo, brazil- its tropical tree of high altitude. Tem minas or good samaritan with christ. This What Ezekiel-kisii and luo blooded as much as isiah men and church you can google that phrase & find it. Initially Egypt was the midwest having its heart in Missouri and Kansas then they Migrated to the present day pakistan or india region as the Mr region- maka region. King of the jewomen to cement the truth.        So hindu saying they are Egyptians for the Nigros who are majorly kisii blooded to return with nyamau as a cash crop in mind which does better in kisii than anywhere- money tree- the ones in Kenya are also affiliated with the nigros in kisii claiming one decentry and if you partake mwarubaine dried one on the sun as much as landana or ground nuts the spirit directs everyone where they are from even if you just got his photo. The ones in Usa got money from sports in olimpic as much as medals which can be sold 4 money, wealth in movies which they can act in developed nations only if 2goinvoice aint removed- they can use these monies to invest 4 the better or the worse so hindu are eying them is two fold either to benefit or destroy them and Minaj from Trini Dad kevins personal assistant who love his ass got Quick money transfer services to add. The question is will she stay or go back to her country? You guys having good time with kenyan spice fm frequent saying- we must destroy the future of your kids, look beyond your nose and think twice dude b4 you immigrate. Trinidad people are big bodied than any person but if you eat ground nuts there is no indication that minaj is from there so it was just fabricated and DNA test with the mother can affirm that. Minaj is Hagar of galacian abraham wife-google friends. Nigros can also sing in india organising shows that brings money alongside prostitution dude they are eying for there betterment escalating tourism in that nation they have gone too. Egyptians are UK-ans, and the distant isles of the sea are those of Mediterranean see and you can google that folks. I will take them back to Egypt as much as kisii people coz the prophet who said it was kisii blooded, kisii fenced as a garden to grow Tea and that tree while the kisii people taken to Kansas not India. Thats precisely the plan for UK people and they are ready to move because the oil thing is finished with AE technologies and the industrial made goods can fetch ready market of highly populated mexico, guatamala, costa rica, dominica republic and the whole of central America. In Europe their neighbors make the same stuff they are making as much as China and middle East and you can see that with the getting out of EU- they are very happy dude. Ezekiel had known these and was talking harshly but inside new the benefit of doubt of it period. Take pleasure in travel Tpit and T is silence, William pit- there is scarcely anything left around us but ruin and despair. Pit Latrine Pl pink lips, plot with Mordecai and Harman in the book of Ester. Invator and Broadband modem.With chinis people please discard their goods and opt from other nations, they lias with William rooto and marshal up hooliganism and terrorism as much as killing of people brutally. The are angry and dont want to attack US out of 2goinvoice which is paid under USA currency not their money and precisely is money laundering. Google brainy Quotes, martin luther king Jr sermons or a knock at midnight with other sermons, we are here where do we go from here and i've been to the mountaintop speech as well as nobel peace acceptance speech in oslo norway. The kikuyou are saying they are jewomen and they will rise as per the bible by saying the sermons are theres or mlk is kikuyou so they can sell these worldwide as a tribe- big shame mlk was burried in ATL,Georgia. Google as well malcom X speeches- chicken coming back to roost and the bullet and the ballot. You-tube this folks, haile Selassie visit JKF in Washington and if you know sign language you will come to see how when he came back to Nairobi kenyatta championed for their deaths/assassination as well as tomboya death. Mlk as well to hide the sermons from the public so they can claim lien in times futurity which has ripen and is right-now folks. Currently Jamaicans have changed their lifestyle per their music and collaborated with their usa counterpart as they have shared and known each others secretes like the falling of Jamaican air. In use their is immediate response if a plane fall but in kenya or country like kenya its slow-can even take 48 hrs so they find easy time to collect they money of the plane fall once they know the bearing without authority noticing them. So they wanna come to ksm, kenya out of that. They want to come as prostitutes to attract international visitor as well as initiating direct flights of rich people, if that plane is fallen then they go and take the cash and get back to the usa to invest like jamaicans. Watch coming to America movie by Edy Murphy to cement the truth of Edys lost luggage bro. Thats the plan, game dude, if you dont know!! click this link below or copy paste on your google browserhttps://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100035469949912&sk=allactivity&privacy_source=activity_log_top_menuhttps://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100035469949912&sk=allactivity&privacy_source=activity_log_top_menu https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100035535704619&sk=allactivity&privacy_source=activity_log_top_menuhttps://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100035535704619&sk=allactivity&privacy_source=activity_log_top_menu check the number written on the fb link to see they are different a/c opened dude.

[thejustinmarshall]

Spin Doctors Chris Barron Releases, “Angels and One Armed Jugglers” and Goes on Tour

Interview by Danny Coleman 

“Funny, there’s a part of me that’s never really quite comfortable unless I have a guitar in my hands. The trick is A. Don’t make any mistakes B. If you make a mistake, cover it or C. Just don’t give a shit if you make a mistake (Laughs). The three are not mutually exclusive and at any given moment you can be operating on all three of those principals,” says The Spin Doctors Chris Barron as he discussed his new release, “Angels and One Armed   Jugglers,” his past and his upcoming gigs at, “Randy Now’s Man Cave” in Bordentown, NJ on May 11 and “JCC of Central Jersey” in Scotch Plains on May 12.

Barron’s been writing songs ever since he was a teen aged youth in Princeton, NJ but his story and that of The Spin Doctors, leading up to his additional solo career began in high school; thanks to another very talented classmate.

“I went to high school with John Popper and the guys from Blues Traveler. We were into Cab Calloway and Ella Fitzgerald, we were all musicians but I didn’t play a lot of guitar back then so when we’d jam, I’d do a lot of scatting. Sometimes we’d be playing tunes we knew but most times it was tunes we wrote and that became part of my musicality. Growing up with John, he turned me onto the blues and a lot of this stuff like Billie Holiday and Charlie Parker and The Blues Brothers. We hadn’t known each other very long, I was like 14 or 15 years old and I asked him about the blues harmonica and he just kind of turned me onto the blues. Then I did what I did with various genres of music; I went to the Princeton Record Exchange with my allowance and I had like $4.85 and I’d buy these one dollar blues records. John turned me onto the slick established stuff and then I’d buy these one dollar records of obscure artists that I really never heard.There was one that really blew my mind, “Memphis Blues Again Volume II,” no relation to Bob Dylan at all but it had these really crusty gut bucket blues artists that I never heard of but it was so visceral. I took it to John and he said it was too raw for him and I was like; really? In my mind I thought that this was the shit and at the time I was writing tunes but was a very rudimentary guitarist. I could figure out those rudimentary parts that were played with absolute conviction and emotionality on the line with topics of songs that were so personal. It was at that point that I realized not every song has to be an emotional epiphany; you can write a song about anything you want.” 

However, it didn’t stop there. Using their powers of persuasion and a little peer pressure, the Blues Traveler would convince Barron to make a move that would unknowingly begin his journey into rock ‘n’ roll stardom. “Those guys came to my apartment in Princeton, where I had already written, “Two Princes” and “Jimmy Olsen’s Blues” and they were like, “Dude, you’re just wasting away here. We have to get a new apartment and you have to move to the city because it’ll be cheaper if we have an apartment for five guys instead of four guys.” “The late great Bobby Sheehan dared me to move to New York so I did and then I spent the summer with those guys and then in the fall they were going to a new music school. I told my dad I wanted to go to the new school if he’d help me out with the money but I didn’t want a music degree. I just wanted to go until I meet some guys and put a band together; I’ll work my guts out until then but once I put a band together I’m out of there. I want to be in a rock band. He was really cool and backed me and I did one semester and by the end of that semester The Spin Doctors were together. I met Eric and Aaron and we were playing out for money so we all quit school and concentrated on the band full time and in my case it’s all because of the Blues Traveler. I can’t overstate how much I owe those guys. John and I don’t get to see each other as much as we’d like but in my reckoning he’s one of my very dearest friends and in any arena of my life, one of the most important figures.”

At the height of their popularity, The Spin Doctors were a top drawing act and still continue to tour today; albeit with a scaled back schedule. Barron doesn’t seem to mind as it allows time for his solo career and for a welcome change of pace.

“I’m basically doing a lot of stuff on the weekends in my career right now. I haven’t been on an extended tour in quite a long time. Mostly The Spin Doctors go out, you know The Spin Doctors are together; the original band and in the summer we go out most weekends  and then the rest of the year I’m doing solo stuff. Yeah, it’s a fun period in my career. I’ve got The Spin Doctors shows, my killer loud rock band with my buddies that I’ve been playing with forever and then I have this solo acoustic thing that I’ve been doing since I was a kid. I started out as a teenager as just a kid with a guitar, writing tunes and playing them just solo acoustic. That’s like a whole kind of art form all to itself, a venerable kind of art form that goes back to the Mississippi Delta with guys like Robert Johnson and Reverend Gary Davis, these great guitar players and songwriters that I’ve always really admired. So it’s fun, I kind of have two worlds and it makes my career very diverting and interesting. One night I’m up there with a loud rock band with nothing in my hands and I’m just the front man just running around Mick Jagger or Jim Morrison style and another night I’m the singer/songwriter with a guitar in my hands picking tunes.”

“One of the things that is really nice about The Spin Doctors and I get this again and again and I don’t know what we did and it wasn’t necessarily intentional but we somehow struck this universal appeal and over and over again, people refer to being in the car with their entire family and playing our CD in the car; it was like the CD that everyone could agree on. The kids liked it and the grown ups liked it. I get people saying they wanted to listen to Soundgarden while their parents wanted to listen to Pat Boone or whatever but we all liked The Spin Doctors. That’s very gratifying; it’s nice that so many different kinds of people have enjoyed our record.” 

So having the best of both worlds is always a beautiful thing but what happens when your main instrument, goes down? In Barron’s case, losing his voice was just the kick in the pants he needed. “I lost my voice last year and I was planning on making a record. I had this huge backlog of songs and it was time to get these songs out there. You know, songs get mad at you if you let them sit around for too long. I hadn’t made a solo record in a long time, my songs were mad at me, it was time for me to record but I lost my voice. Then when my voice came back, it was really clear that life is short, you never know what’s going to happen, so I thought  get in there and get this record done. So I kind of came at the project with a new lease on life and kind of came at it with a will but I had a lot of the tunes around. It wasn’t one of those records where it was like, OK it’s time to make a record, better write something. I had a lot of the material, some of it I wrote a number of years ago, some I wrote within the last year or two but the songs were pretty ready to go; so it was the songs, the songs asked me to make the record.” 

The result was, “Angels and One Armed Jugglers,” something even Barron himself chuckles about. “How’s that for a mouthful? It’s kind of a funny story; I wrote that song while driving on the Queensboro Bridge. That line, “Angels and one armed jugglers,” just kind of came to me and I was driving my Crown Vic Police Interceptor across the bridge and pulled out a pen and started writing it down on my steering wheel. I was thinking about this neighbor of mine back in the day, Adelaide, who is a character in the song. She was just this cool old lady that lived next door to me who had been a Broadway chorus girl. What’s funny is, the whole idea of calling the record that, everybody, my friends, my wife, all were like, you can’t call your record, “Angels and One Armed Jugglers” and I was like, yeah but I can’t come up with anything else and I think it’s kind of a cool title. My wife, after three months was like, “It is kind of a cool title” and I was like; right? Now that the record is out everybody loves the title and now that it’s gotten great reviews, their like, yeah of course he’s going to call it, “Angels and One Armed Jugglers.” 

The record is full of twists and turns and has multiple mood changes; just how Barron likes it. So what can those attending a show expect from this man as he goes solo on stage?  “I’m going to perform my record in order, which has been really fun and it has been going over really great. I’m going to perform the record solo acoustic, it’s a full production record there’s a lot of different productions on the record. Some of it’s like a rock band set up, some is stripped down and I have one tune called, “The World According to Garp,” which is just me on guitar and just a tuba and an accordion. There’s a lot of different things, some of the songs have strings, some have horns on them and the songs are quite varied in nature. I’ve got some love songs, some wistful stuff and some bombastic rock ‘n’ roll, it’s a pretty well balanced record from that viewpoint. So I’m going to come out and do my record and then I’m going to do some Spin Doctors stuff. I’ll do, “Little Miss Can’t Be Wrong and “Two Princes” and the songs that are people’s favorites but one of the fun things about coming out to see me if you’re a Spin Doctors fan is that I do some of the deep cuts that The Spin Doctors never ended up playing live. So you can come out and hear the hits interpreted solo acoustic, which I think that the people seem to enjoy. The audience seems to get a kick out of hearing me interpret these songs differently and they still rock with just me and a guitar but it’s really stripped down to the original elements of the song. So you can kind of get an insight into the writing and if you are a Spin Doctors fan you’ll gain some insight into the band. I think the cool thing about seeing one of the guys from a band is that you get to see their contribution to the band on display. You get to see the part of the band that “he” did; OK cool and it gives you a bit of perspective. So I’ll be doing some Spin Doctors hits, deep cuts, my new record and some Chris Baron tunes.” 

To purchase tickets or discover more about Chris Barron, please visit www.thechrisbarron.com. 

Danny Coleman (Danny Coleman is a veteran musician and writer from central New Jersey. He hosts a weekly radio program entitled “Rock On Radio” airing Sunday evenings at 10 p.m. EST on multiple internet radio outlets where he features indie/original bands and solo artists.)

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[cataclyslmic-romantic-blog]

Why is marijuana not legal? Why is marijuana not legal? 

It's a natural plant that grows in the dirt. 

Do you know what's not natural?

80 year old dudes with hard-ons. That's not natural.

But we got pills for that.

We're dedicating all our medical resources to keeping the old guys erect,

But we're putting people in jail for something that grows in the dirt?

You know we have more prescription drugs now.

Every commercial that comes on TV is a prescription drug ad.

I can't watch TV for four minutes without thinking I have five serious diseases.

Like: "Do you ever wake up tired in the morning?"

Oh my god I have this, write this down. Whatever it is, I have it. 

Half the time I don't even know what the commercial is…

People running in fields or flying kites or swimming in the ocean.

I'm like that is the greatest disease ever. How do you get that?

That disease comes with a hot chick and a puppy.

The schools now… It is all about self-esteem in the schools now.

Build the kids' self-esteem, make them feel good about themselves.

If everybody grows up with high self-esteem, who is going to dance in our strip clubs?

What's going to happen to our porno industry?

These women don't just grown on trees. 

It takes lots of drunk dads missing dance recitals before you decide to blow a goat on the internet for fifty bucks.

And if that disappears, where does that leave me on a Friday night with my new high speed connection?

Masterminds are another word that comes up all the time.

You keep hearing about these terrorists masterminds that get killed in the middle east. 

Terrorists masterminds.

Mastermind is sort of a lofty way to describe what these guys do, don't you think?

They're not masterminds.

"OK, you take bomb, right? And you put in your backpack. And you get on bus and you blow yourself up. Alright?"

"Why do I have to blow myself up? Why can't I just…"

"Who's the fucking mastermind here? Me or you?"

Americans, let's face it: We've been a spoiled country for a long time. 

Do you know what the number one health risk in America is? 

Obesity. They say we're in the middle of an obesity epidemic.

An epidemic like it is polio. Like we'll be telling our grand kids about it one day.

The Great Obesity Epidemic of 2004.

"How'd you get through it grandpa?"

"Oh, it was horrible Johnny, there was cheesecake and pork chops everywhere."

Nobody knows why were getting fatter? Look at our lifestyle.

I'll sit at a drive thru. 

I'll sit there behind fifteen other cars instead of getting up to make the eight foot walk to the totally empty counter.

Everything is mega meal, super sized. Want biggie fries, super sized, want to go large. 

You want to have thirty burgers for a nickel you fat mother fucker. There's room in the back. Take it!

Want a 55 gallon drum of Coke with that? It's only three more cents.

Sometimes you have to suffer a little bit in your youth to motivate yourself to succeed in later life.

Do you think if Bill Gates got laid in high school, do you think there'd be a Microsoft?

Of course not.

You got to spend a long time in your own locker with your underwear shoved up your ass before you start to think,

"You'll see. I'm going to take of the world of computers! I'll show them."

We're in one of the richest countries in the world,

But the minimum wage is lower than it was thirty five years ago.

There are homeless people everywhere.

This homeless guy asked me for money the other day.

I was about to give it to him and then I thought he was going to use it on drugs or alcohol.

And then I thought, that's what I'm going to use it on.

Why am I judging this poor bastard.

People love to judge homeless guys. Like if you give them money they're just going to waste it.

Well, he lives in a box, what do you want him to do? Save it up and buy a wall unit?

Take a little run to the store for a throw rug and a CD rack? He's homeless.

I walked behind this guy the other day. 

A homeless guy asked him for money.

He looks right at the homeless guy and says why don't you go get a job you bum.

People always say that to homeless guys like it is so easy.

This homeless guy was wearing his underwear outside his pants.

Outside his pants. I'm guessing his resume isn't all up to date.

I'm predicting some problems during the interview process.

I'm pretty sure even McDonalds has a "underwear goes inside the pants" policy.

Not that they enforce it really strictly, but technically I'm sure it is on the books.