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shelf-care · 3 years

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Winter Nights

Wolverine x OC

Lipstick mark series Pt.2

| Part 1|

So its snowing in south Texas! that never happens. My parents are panicking and I’m sitting here writing fan fiction to calm myself. What could go wrong?

So Victor Creed shows up in this because I’m a pantser and I come up with ideas as I go and see if it works for the plot, (For this miniseries I hope it does.) I was also watching Kate and Leopold last night (It’s become a valentines tradition for me over the last few years.) And Liev was in it. So theres that.

Rated PG-13

Mentions of sex, medical examination, a former abusive relationship, obsession with an individual, slight violence, touch starved wolverine.

“Your mission Miss hope?” The woman in the white lab coat asked while holding a clipboard ad clicking a pen multiple times, it had to be some sort of nervous tick. Maddie tipped her head back, swallowing her saliva, she was clad in a sterile white medical gown, her red hair sprawled out on the also white pillow as another individual examined her. “My mission was to come into contact with the Man known as wolverine, or James Logan Howlett.” She took a breath, the cold instruments the nurse had been using caught her rather off guard. “And you succeeded in not only finding him, but you managed to get a sample of his DNA?” The woman jotted some notes on the clipboard now, keeping her eyes locked on Maddie. The redhead looked away, staring at the ceiling stark white and formless like everything else in the room. “I did.” The doctor nodded her head. “We’ll be taking those samples back to the lab to confirm that its him. Until they are conclusive, you are free to go.” The young woman nodded watched as swabs left the room, she rather did not want to know what they wanted to do with him.

Blankly staring at the roof above her, Maddie couldn’t keep that night from playing over and over again. He was indeed her target, but, something was stirring in her, affection most likely. It would die within a couple weeks like it did with the men following shortly after. She knew he would be harder to kill. But he’d fall like the rest. Eventually. She closed her eyes, then she felt her phone buzz next to her. She reached for it, a voice message was visible. Holding the device to her ear, she heard his voice. A voice that in all honesty she enjoyed. “Look, I’m not that great at stuff like this. But I got your note, the other one, the one with the lipstick,” He paused, thinking about what he’d say next. “I thought we got on pretty well the other night. Lemme know when you make it back to the bar.” The message was short, and pretty sweet. He did care, at least a tad. Maddie slid her lips in a grin, she recorded a new message for him. “I’d love to meet again, this Friday at the bar?”

She waited at the bar again, it was cold, snow was on its way. This time the meeting was for more pleasure than anything else since her job was done, but it wasn’t a bad things to keep up with a target. The door swung open among the mostly empty bar. The few patrons turned their heads at the sudden commotion. In walked a man who was tall, very tall. Blond hair cascading down his shoulders, while some of it was put in a half ponytail. A long trench coat and fur, was joined by it, making him look that more intimidating. He made his way to the bar and sat down, eyeing Maddie like she was his new meal. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” He said keeping his sight on the bar ahead of him while he ordered himself a large glass of whatever was the strongest drink at the bar. Maddie rolled her eyes. “You here to babysit me creed?” She asked drawing invisible circles in the counter. “Here more on pleasure Miss Hope.” He looked her up and down again and licked his lips visibly so she’d see it for sure. He knew this made her one of two things. Hot and bothered, or pissed off. it pissed her off this time around, and Creed preferred it that way. “I thought we were past this.” She turned fully to him now. “You might be.” He drank down half the mixture of bourbon, whisky and fireball and faced her, chest puffed in pride and confidence, a pointed and toothy grin showed itself. “But I sure as hell wasn’t girly.” He scoffed as his fist hit the bar making the redhead jump as he got her attention and everyone else’s in the bar as a matter of fact. “We were just getting good when you left.” A fire lit in her heart, anger and passion apparent in her face she took a moment to compose herself. “Victor, they removed you from my squad and as my partner because of your behavior towards me. That hit was the last straw and I won’t be coming back and I’m sure you know that.” Her tone was low and threatening, looking at him, she grasped the glass and slammed down the rest of the liquid before putting down a few dollars as a tip. Creed thought it was adorable when she was angry, and decided to take it as far as he could.

As she zipped up her jacket and made her way out, the large man grabbed her by the arm. “We’re done when I say we are,” He pulled her close to him, his breath brushing warm against her throat as his claw ran down her cheek. “And I’m not done talking to you.” His yellow eyes bored into hers, she felt her heartbeat quicken, she despised and loved this feeling, that’s what got her into this mess the first time. “I told you I was finished. You’ll get your chance with me another day.” She opened her hand to show her palm to him, illuminating a golden hue of color at the center and curving our like a flame, Creeds eyes didn’t change a bit, he seemed like he welcomed the challenge. “Sweetheart, if only you knew how much I craved that part of you.” He gave a guttural low laugh, daring her, as he smirked again, spurring her on. Seeing if she’d really follow through on her threat, which most of them were never hollow. “On any other occasion Creed, I’d let you have it.” She placed her hand on his fist that was still clenched around her arm. “But I’m not in the mood for playing nice.” His hand went visceral, veins becoming more visible as one could see the vitality of the large mutant being taken on by someone a third of his size. “Let me go.” He threatened as he began to feel his muscles failing him in his left arm. “You first.” She smiled, the grin widening as he raised his claws at her. but was too weak to do much else. She laughed and leaned into his ear whispering in a sensual voice, her chest touching his to pour more salt onto the wound. “I thought you craved this part of me.” He could feel himself become more drained the longer she stayed, he realized she wasn’t messing around this time, his grip loosened and she walked free, not another word was heard from Creed, and it would be like that till the next time those twos’ paths crossed. Creed was bent over the bar. He reached for his drink and it shook in his hold, and drank the rest fervently like he needed air, he watched as his hand shook like an elderly man and his hand similar to one too. “Babe’s been getting stronger.” He was captivated by the way her powers worked, he always had been.

She was Outside, the wind howled and whipped the snow up, crating a curtain of nothing but white mist making visibility a little less than optimal. She pulled out her phone and started to text.

“Hey, the bar is full. Did you want to meet anywhere else for drinks?” She messaged him. Yes, it was a lie, but she didn’t want to be around Creed, for reasons that was obvious. She waited a few minutes till she saw the three dots pop up. “You wanna come to the trailer?” He asked bluntly. She shrugged. “Pick me up?” She shot back quickly. “Sure thing.” Was all he said back.

Maddie threw her head back against the mini sofa that was in the one room airstream. The warmth enveloping her as she sighed after her first sip of beer. The snow on her jacket seeping into the fabric further, making a chill run down her spine. “Thank you.” She said raising her head to look at him, happy to be warm. “Don’t mention it.” He said mirroring her actions. “I can’t believe you wanted to meet again.” She mentioned looking at him again, he was different from last time, but not. “I can’t either if I’m honest.” He sat on his bed across from her. There was a silence that fell between the two, but it was comfortable. “Sorry the bar didn’t work out.” Leaning forward trying to skirt the conversation along. “I’d rather be doing this.” He tilted his head referring to his drink. That made Maddie laugh through her nose a bit. “Really? You’d rather act like an old married couple than be out?” She teased him, but he looked at her for a moment. “Been there and done that.” She nodded. “I like this though. It’s nice.” She took another sip of her drink before throwing away the bottle in an open trash bin. “I never got to ask. What is it that you do?” She placed her palm under her chin and smiled, waiting for his answer. He played with his bottle, before drinking his as well. “What you saw the other night is what I’ve been doing for the last fifteen years.” He told her nodding and thinking about his past and his way of living. “I don’t remember much of what I did before.” Maddie looked at him, a blank face that he couldn’t make out, but made him curious. “You never told me what you did. How did someone like you wind up in this dump of a town?” He joked slightly but he wasn’t wrong, it was a little piece of nowhere. “I’m in military secret forces. I was stationed here, and have been here for the last three years.” She saw him tense at the subject. “You okay?” Her brows cocked at him becoming a little bit tense. She didn’t think he suspect anything, and she wasn’t outright lying about what she did. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He left it at that. She stood up and paced over to him, and sat down next to him. The mattress sinking beneath her. He looked at her not quite knowing what she was doing. She reached for his hand, and looked at him before she went any further. “You don’t seem fine.” She silently asked for permission and he let her have his hand. She traced his palm slowly and gently, comfort in every movement. He was starved of this type of affection. Most people were, but him more than others she found just from the way he acted. She laced her fingers in-between the spaces where his were not, interlocking their hands. He closed his eyes her for a split second, every curve, every bump, every imperfection written on her face made him want her more as he reveled in the feeling of them being so close. “Don’t do this to yourself.” He warned her, taking his hand out of hers, though she stopped him. “Don’t tell me what to do.” She was firm, but the firmness was met with a soft smile. Logans eyes studied her for a minute. No one had ever stopped him like that, not to his knowledge anyway. This time when he went to remove his hand she let him leave, but it was to place his hand under her chin and bring her closer, and there, their lips met, and he pushed her below him while she wrapped her hands around his neck and raked her hands through his hair, all while closing her eyes enjoying the warmth compared to the freezing outside.

While the campers light was dim, if one were close to it you could hear giggling, rocking, calling one another’s names in the dark, and a little obscene noises that you would only hear if you where right next to the airstream. Then there was the figure that stood a few feet away from the little camper, a figure that towered over most men. The same body that was blonde, and in the bar with Maddie that same night. “You made a big mistake girly,” He peered down at his still healing hand, it looked aged, like his hand was ten years older than the rest of his body.

#wolverine #wolverine x reader #Wolverine x oc #Victor Creed x reader #Victor Creed X OC #X-Men #Marvel #X-Men x Reader #X-Men x OC #liev schreiber #hugh jackman #touch starved

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mxndoscyarika · 3 years

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Honeydew (Marcus Pike/Moreno x OC) | Chapter 2

Summary: Erin He moves to DC after working for the FBI in Texas and runs into a hero in disguise; Marcus Moreno. Something about him is familiar, too familiar, yet different in a way that she can’t quite place. Although confused, she can’t deny her feelings for him; perhaps, after years of regret, she finally found the one.

Warnings: food/drink, alcohol, loneliness

Ao3

Honeydew masterlist

Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.

Author’s Note: Merry Christmas, everyone! Here’s a little gift from me to you 😌 I hope you like it! Let me know what you think in the comments below.

8 years later

Winter in DC was too cold. It had reached that time of year when the roads turned icy at the slightest humidity in the air, and it had already snowed at least twice since December began. Thankfully, the snow didn’t stick around very long; FBI agents were on-call 24/7. A double-edged sword, really. On one hand, it meant work was a great way to avoid problems. It was easier to forget. On the other hand, well, it was work.

“Six years in this city and it’s still so fucking cold,” Erin muttered to herself, shivering as her car warmed up. She buried her face into the scarf wrapped around her neck, trying to warm up. The warmth from the heated steering wheel seeped into her fingers, soothing the ache in her joints. She was supposed to meet Sachi at the bar for drinks. It had become a regular event in her weekly life; one night a week to go out and relax.

Some would’ve said that her promotion meant she could take more time off. That she could delegate a little more and take on a lighter workload as a result. But as a supervisor for the Operational Technologies branch, she had all the more reason to work more. Well, that’s what she convinced herself, at least.

Her friend and coworker, Sachi, was already seated at a table by the time she arrived. The bar was pretty busy, busier than the week before. It made sense; the holidays were always a time for friends and family to catch up on each other’s lives.

“Hi! Sorry I’m late, a meeting went overtime and I ran into some traffic on the way here,” Erin apologized, draping her wool coat over the back of her seat and sitting down. The next article to be shed was her scarf, which she kept piled on her lap. “Were you waiting long?”

“No, no worries,” her friend answered, shrugging. “I just got this table a couple minutes ago. Happy hour seems extra popular this week. How was the meeting?”

She rolled her eyes. “The usual; operations found some bugs in the new software and had some suggestions, so half of the developers will be working on that while the rest continue building our newest tool. How did your day go?”

“It was so slow, I don’t know which politician decided to choose yesterday to fuck up, but there were files everywhere,” Sachi groaned, rubbing her forehead tiredly. Her eyes landed on the sparkling gem on Erin’s hand. “I do have a question for you, though: why do you wear that ring?”

She raised a dark brow, then followed her line of sight to her hand. “Oh, this? It’s….it’s just something to keep the men away, that’s all. You know how they are.”

A curious head tilt. “I do, but are you sure that’s what you want? You deserve to find someone who makes you happy, Rin.”

Erin gave her a tight-lipped smile, twisting the metal band around her finger. It was a recent purchase; a gift to herself. A promise. A promise to remember. Even if he wasn’t hers to remember, at the end of the day.

“Is this still about that Marcus Pike guy?” Sachi asked, her voice softening as Erin avoided looking up. She reached across the table and covered her hand with hers. The glittering band of her own wedding ring seemed to mock her. “It’s been seven years since he went missing, Rin. You searched for him yourself; he’s gone.”

The news had broken just before Erin arrived in DC. Marcus Pike had gone missing, and there seemed to be no trace of him. His last known address was empty, his file had been wiped from all government databases, even his social media accounts were nonexistent.

One of the first things she did after her promotion was asking for a search squad. His number was still in her phone, but the number was no longer receiving calls. Even his email seemed to be deactivated, but it had existed before. There should’ve been a digital trail. It didn’t matter to her that it had been months since he was last seen–he was her best friend, and she wasn’t going to give up on him that easily.

Juggling her work with the investigation took its toll on her. Sleep eluded her, so she upped her coffee intake and spent countless hours off the clock. As a result, exhaustion settled in mid-day. Her work grew sloppy, obvious problems going untended and creating delays in operations.

The head of the department shut down her search after a year. He had cited it being a “waste of resources.” Maybe it was, to them. For such a large bureau with so many applicants, there was bound to be a replacement for Agent Pike. But even so, no one could replace Marcus.

“I know,” she replied softly. “I know. I’m trying, it’s just...I’ve spent years working for the FBI, and every time I stop to check the time, it’s like months have passed. And you know how my last relationship ended.”

She had been seeing a guy working for a tech startup, and at first it was great. The late nights and morning texts had been enough. But as time went on, and she became more immersed in her work following the election, her boyfriend grew restless. He wanted his girlfriend at home with him, preparing dinner and asking him about his day at the startup. Then he started the accusations. He accused her of cheating, of rubbing her success in his face.

Everything he said was false, but she had given up on trying to convince him. So she gave him a choice. He could leave if he wanted to, and there would be no hard feelings, just incompatibility. Or, he could stay, and she’d try to make more time for him. He chose the former.

“Oh come on,” Sachi reasoned, tapping the back of her hand. “You’re beautiful, smart, can kick ass. There has to be someone who’s into that.”

“Maybe,” Erin shrugged. Once upon a time, she had hoped she would meet someone like that. And in a way, she had. But at the end of the day, she was a coward. She was a coward, and she paid the price for it.

They always said that time was money. In her case, the price she paid was high.

Sachi’s eyes lit up. “You know what? Why don’t you come to a holiday party I’m hosting? Maybe you’ll meet someone there.”

“Who’s going?”

“Some of our coworkers, some of my friends, and their friends, potentially,” she listed off, waving off her concern. “Nothing very special, in my opinion.”

A party would be nice. If not for the company, then for the food; and if not the food, then the drinks. Yes, the drinks. Drinks were good.

Erin conceded with a nervous grin. “Alright, but no meddling!”

“Yay!” she squealed. Then, her expression turned serious again. She pointed at the ring. “But whatever you do, don’t wear that.”

---

Sachi’s house looked like it was out of a movie. Tall and sparkling with lights, her home was the textbook picture of a family Christmas. There was even a wreath on the front door and a wooden sign with drawn-on snowflakes that welcomed the party guests.

The foyer was lined with emerald garlands and shimmering fairy lights, leading her further in towards the kitchen. From giant gold ornaments to wooden figurines, it seemed as if she had thought of everything.

When she reached the kitchen, there were already some guests gathered around the kitchen island. Platters of sweets and charcuterie boards were spread over the marble countertop, glistening in the soft light. The guests grazed from small plates as they greeted each other and raved about how great it was to finally catch up.

Perhaps she’d host her own holiday party someday. When she had the space, of course. The apartment that she’d chosen wasn’t the best for groups, and she wanted enough surface area for decorations. Her string of lights and small tree at home paled in comparison to the giant tree in Sachi’s living room.

The invite had specified a semi-formal dress code, so she chose a black off-the-shoulder dress that reached her knees. She paired it with some black heels and a white blazer draped over her shoulders for warmth. It wasn’t much, but it would do.

“Erin!” Sachi squealed, coming over to give her a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here. You’re right on time. Everyone else should be arriving soon.” She shooed her away. “Go have fun! And if you need a wingwoman, I’ve got your back.”

Erin shivered as Sachi swept off her jacket, the cool air brushing against her shoulders. Nevertheless, she smiled. “Thanks.”

“Of course!” she replied. The next thing she knew, a glass of champagne was tucked into her hand. “Now go!”

What Sachi had failed to tell her, though, was that she was going to be one of the only singles in the entire house.

Wherever she turned, she found couples congregated into circles where they could discuss...whatever couples discussed. Not wanting to barge in as a third, fifth, or seventh wheel, she stuck close to the perimeter of the room.

Thankfully, she found an acquaintance from work who had also come to the party alone.

“Waiting for someone?” Ashley asked, sipping from a half-empty glass of wine. She was one of the receptionists for the technologies department. They’d spoken a couple times, but never much more than professional talk.

Erin shook her head and finished her third glass of champagne. Maybe she’d try the moscato next, just to change things up a little. The whole point of attending the party was to relax, right? So, she was trying to relax. “Just trying to loosen up. It’s been a while since I’ve gone to a party.” A soft laugh. “I can see why people like bringing a friend along. It would help a lot.”

“Why didn’t you, then?” At the lack of response, she sighed. “Is work still taking up a lot of time? You know you can take more time off.”

Yes, she knew. She’d heard it nearly a thousand times already. She knew she could take time off just like she knew she could forget about her past and move on. Part of her wanted to change, to move on as if nothing had happened. But after years of the same routine, and the same decisions coming back to bite her, it was hard to change.

“I know,” Erin replied, pressing a hand against her forehead. It was hotter than normal–did Sachi turn up the heating? She silently cursed her genetics; she’d probably have a fever later that night. “But as you know, there’s always more work to do. I signed up for this, so I need to do my job.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t rest,” she reasoned, nudging her arm. “Are you still leading the search for that guy? Marcus Pike? I remember you were pretty involved with that.”

Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe it was the alcohol. She gripped the glass a bit tighter. Her voice was clipped as she said, “No, I’m not. The search squad was disbanded years ago. We spent a year searching for him and there was nothing. There was nothing.” She swayed as she stood up, but quickly regained her balance. “I’m gonna….get another drink. Is there anything you want me to bring?”

“No thanks,” Ashley replied. Watching as Erin stumbled, she asked, “Are you sure you want another drink? Maybe you should take a break first.”

She waved her off. “I’m fine, don’t worry. It’s just the shoes.”

Yeah, right.

Erin’s turn around the corner was much too sharp, and her sluggish mind barely seemed to register the fact that she collided with a broad chest. Strong arms came up around her, holding her in place so she didn’t fall over. They were warm. Before she could stop herself, she splayed her hands on their chest, brows furrowed. What did Sachi put in there?

Then, she looked up and met the person’s eyes. Dark brown ones, to be exact. With a depth and sparkle that she hadn’t seen since Austin. Softly, she said, “M-Marcus?”

The man’s lips parting in shock. As Erin’s slightly-blurred gaze drifted down to his mouth, she frowned. No, it couldn’t be her Marcus; her Marcus didn’t have facial hair, nor did he wear glasses. He was handsome, though–just as handsome. And he was strong–she felt safer in his arms than she had in years.

“H-how do you know my name?”

His voice was similar, too, though a bit raspier.

She blinked. Then, it dawned on her; it wasn’t a dream. She really was at a party, in a dress pressed up against a very good-looking man who looked vaguely like her late best friend. It felt as if she had jumped into the snow without clothes on. She blushed and flinched away from him–as if she needed to be even redder–and said, “Sorry, you just look a bit like an old friend of mine. His name was also Marcus.”

It was her, Marcus realized. He would have recognized her voice anywhere, and when she looked up at him with those dark, green-flecked eyes, his years in Texas came rushing back to him. Part of him didn’t want to believe it. What was she doing in DC? And what were the chances that they’d meet again, with his changed identity?

Even so, she was as beautiful as he remembered, her smooth black hair styled into shining waves and her full lips painted a muted pink. In their time as friends, he rarely saw Erin out of her work clothes; a side effect of working for the FBI. Seeing her in a dress, and up close, against his chest felt like a dream. A dream that had plagued his mind for nearly a decade.

At the same time, she looked different. There was an air of exhaustion that clung to her just as tightly as her authority. Her eyes didn’t have the same bright sparkle that she had on her first day. He wondered if her smile was the same, and if she still took her coffee with two sugars and a splash of cream. If she still collected houseplants as if they were pets. If she was still the Erin he remembered.

The tugging in his chest pulled him towards her, and the old whisper of Marcus Pike urged him to tell the truth. To drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness. To tell her that he was sorry for leaving her, for dismissing her concerns about Lisbon. For disappearing without a trace. But Marcus Moreno, his new identity, his new life, knew it wouldn’t be fair to her.

So he introduced himself. A wave of relief washed over him as Erin giggled softly and shook his hand, telling him her name.

He’d missed her laugh, and the way the corners of her eyes crinkled just slightly when she was happy. He missed everything. He missed her.

“So,” she began, swaying a little. Her last drink was finally kicking in. Her brows furrowed in concentration. “How do you know, uh, Sachi?”

The little furrow of her brows was still adorable; he knew it only showed when she was thinking really hard. He just hoped she would remember their interaction in the morning. She rarely drank enough to get drunk, not wanting to bother with her body’s violent reaction to alcohol. Or so she told him.

“I’m a friend of her husband,” he replied, touching her arm softly as she swayed again. “Do you…do you want to sit down for a bit? We can keep talking, I just want to make sure you don’t get hurt.”

Erin hummed softly and nodded. “Yes, but don’t worry, I can handle a little fall.”

“I don’t doubt you can, Miss FBI.” Realizing his mistake, he cringed. So much for trying to have a fresh start. He guided her over to the table and pulled out a chair for her, making sure she was comfortable before sitting down in the seat next to her.

She frowned. “How do you know I work for the FBI?”

A pause. Then, he answered, “I overheard Sachi talking about you. You two seem to be pretty close.”

Drumming her fingertips on the table, she answered, “I guess so, yeah. She was one of my first friends after I moved here six years ago.” Her eyes glazed over with a tinge of sadness. “Time seems to be flying by very fast these days.”

Marcus sighed softly. “Yeah.” He offered her a smile that made her heart flutter. Or maybe that was just her stomach? “I guess it’s up to us to make the most out of it, right?”

She nodded. Propping her head up against her hand, she replied, “Definitely. So, tell me about yourself, Marcus Moreno. I think you mentioned a daughter?”

He couldn’t help but smile at the mention of Missy. If there was anything he didn’t regret in the past few years, it was meeting his late wife and raising his baby. But the story of his wife could come later; for now, he wanted to tell his best friend about his little girl.

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dcbbw · 4 years

Note

(last one, I promise!) Rachel prompt 28 - I'm alone and I just bought $15 in candy bars. What do you think?

Thanks so much for the ask, @zaffrenotes! I am using the DC Crew for this full-blown fic; in the first chapter of Aftermath of a Breakup, the gang did not see each other over the Christmas Break. This is what they were doing instead of hanging out……

Prompt is in bold. Please excuse any typos and/or grammatical errors.

All characters belong to Pixelberry except Alyssa Devereaux; she belongs to @burnsoslow and is used with permission.

Song Inspiration: January, Millie Lee: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l3pIWpdzs2A

December 23

Riley

Riley stood in the feminine care aisle of her neighborhood CVS, braless under a tank top. Her sweatpants were loose around her waist and baggy everywhere else. She wore flip flops on her feet. Her hair was bushy and uncombed.

It was 12 degrees outside. She wore no coat.

Riley was not having a joyous holiday season. Ever since Drake Walker broke up with Riley at Target…her Target….life had not been good.

At work, her raise request had been turned down, and the Christmas bonus she received instead had been miniscule; while Maxwell used his bonus to pay off his credit cards, Riley was calculating how she could squeeze a dinner out and a tube of the new Bobbi Brown lipstick out of hers.

She wasn’t sleeping and was stress eating; her cart so far was filled with king sized chocolate bars, bags of some off-brand Cajun trail mix, and pints of ice cream.

If dealing with heartbreak and being broke wasn’t enough, Riley had a yeast infection, which is why she was now indifferently perusing her options for treatment. She tossed a box in the cart, and after a moment of thought, tossed in a box of Summer’s Eve as well.

As she dragged her feet up the aisle towards the cashier, she saw her Nosy Neighbor, Zack, headed her way. Inwardly, Riley rolled her eyes. The last person she wanted to see was anyfuckingbody. She mustered a tired smile and greeted her neighbor quickly.

“Riley, Riley, Riley! All set for Christmas?” Zack asked cheerfully.

Riley looked at him through slit eyes. Do I look ready for Christmas? Her tone, however, was neither sullen nor depressed, so she patted herself on the back for that.

“Just gonna be a quiet day for me”.

She eased past Zack towards the front of the store, hoping that was the end of the conversation. However, her neighbor followed behind her, still chatting. Riley tuned him out.

At the register, Riley pulled her items out of her cart, setting them on the counter. Zack reviewed her purchases, his eyes growing wide.

“Are you okay, Riley? That’s a lot of sugar!”

Riley kept her eyes on the counter, watching as the cashier swiped each item. “I don’t know, Zack. My boyfriend broke up with me less than three weeks ago. I’m alone and just bought $15 in candy bars. What do you think?”

Another candy bar was swiped. “Oh, my bad. $18 worth of candy bars.”

“I’m sorry, Riley”, Zack said softly. “You know, the church is having a dinner. You’re welcome to come.”

A sad smile crossed Riley’s lips. “Thanks, Zack. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

The cashier gave Riley her total; she dug in her pocket for her credit card.

Her card declined.

With a confused look, Riley ran the card two more times. Each time, it declined. The line behind her grew longer and a bit more impatient.

Riley couldn’t believe that on top of EVERYTHING ELSE, her card was freaking declining. To add insult to injury, it was the one with the highest credit limit.

Zack took out his card. “I got it, Riley. You can pay me back whenever.”

With tears in her eyes, Riley gathered her purchases and ran out the door.

“Merry Christmas, Zack!” she called over her shoulder in a broken voice.

Olivia x Max

Maxwell was stretched out on his couch, wearing nothing but his pajama pants. He was firing up the blunt he had just rolled. He inhaled deeply, feeling the acrid smoke fill his lungs. He exhaled with a deep sigh and smiled up at Olivia, who was straddling his lap.

Her hair was loose and fell in soft waves to her shoulders. She was wearing Maxwell’s pajama top and a lacy thong.

“Do you think we smoke too much weed?” he asked with a frown.

“It’s CHRISTMAS! Green is the color of the Christmas”, Olivia responded.

“So is red”, Maxwell countered.

Olivia clutched the bottle of merlot in her hand and held it aloft. “Which is why we have this baby!” she giggled.

The couple exchanged kisses between tokes and pulls at the wine bottle.

“You’re a Queen, you know”, Maxwell murmured against her skin.

Olivia shook her head. “No, I’m not.”

“You are!”, Maxwell insisted. He motioned for Olivia to get off him; when she did, he sat up, his gaze fixed on the scenery outside their living room window.

“We could live in this place far away. Cordonia! That’s its name! We could all live there! Be royals and nobles and shit.”

Olivia exhaled. “And what would we do there?”

“Noble shit! The guys would walk around with ivory tipped canes and wear monocles. And the ladies would wear fancy dresses and sip tea all day.”

“What roles would we have?”

Maxwell thought as he swigged wine. “Drake would definitely be a Duke. Of a real masculine sounding place…like Ramsford!

Madeleine would be noble but barely…. she’d be like a Baroness or a Countess or something. Her place would have a weird name.”

“Valtoria!” Olivia proclaimed.

“Riley…. she’s a Duchess for sure. Of Fydelia!”

“She could change the name to Rydelia!”

“Liam…. he’s like a Lord or something. Of Krona.”

Olivia frowned. “Krona sounds too masculine. You should make Drake Duke of Krona, and Liam the Lord of Ramsford.”

Her green eyes took in Maxwell. “And what about you?”

Maxwell thought. He reached for the blunt. “I don’t think I’m Duke material. I would probably be a Lord or something. Of Lythikos! There would be mountains and snow and stuff so I could ski and sled year-round.”

“And what about me?” Olivia demanded as she reached for the wine bottle.

Maxwell’s arm went around her shoulder as he pulled her closer. “You’re the Queen, my dear.”

“Who’s my King?”

“Bertrand. He’s the King.”

“Over my dead fucking body!” Olivia swatted Maxwell’s thigh.

“You two could have an arrangement or something. A Cordonian arrangement! And I, the Lord of Lythikos, would be your most loyal servant.”

Olivia stood, stretching her lithe body. “Well, come along, loyal servant; we have gifts to wrap before the munchies overtake us.”

Leo x Madeleine

“What can we take that won’t trigger Mother?” Madeleine asked as she and Leo wandered Whole Foods.

They were spending Christmas Eve with her mother, who was a newly recovering alcoholic. Adelaide had been sober a little over thirty days. Madeleine picked up a carton of egg nog; it had alcohol in it. She searched for a non-alcoholic version.

“Your mother drank anything that had liquor in it and made sure it did have alcohol when it didn’t. For over twenty years. At this point, liquids period is a trigger”, Leo said. “We should stick with tea, water, and soda.”

“I want to support my mother, Leo! She’s making strides to get better, to be better!”

Leo pulled Madeleine closer to him; one arm went around her waist, his hand splayed against her back. The other hand took the carton of egg nog from her hand and tossed it back into the dairy case.

“I know you do, Mads. I want to support her as well. But you can’t be her babysitter. If she didn’t think she could handle a dinner party, she wouldn’t be throwing one.”

“But Father will be there……” Madeleine’s voice drifted off as Christmas carols blared from speakers.

Leo’s eyes narrowed and his jaw tensed a little. “Did she invite him?”

Madeleine shook her head. “I don’t know. All she said was we were invited, and Father was coming.”

“That bastard has some nerve! Okay, change of plans. Your mom is coming to our place!”

Madeleine looked up at Leo, her green eyes hopeful and uncertain at the same time. “Are you sure?”

“Addy has thirty days under her belt. I want to see her get thirty-one. Godfrey being anywhere near her guarantees she goes back to Day Zero. She’ll stay with us through the New Year. She can sleep in our room and we’ll take the sleeper sofa.”

“But you just said we can’t babysit her”, Madeleine reminded him.

“She’s about to step out in front of a bus traveling at high speed down a narrow road. We’re protecting her.”

“I love you so much!!” Madeleine was near tears as she hugged Leo tightly.

Leo kissed her hair. “Same here. Now, you call your mom while I see if they have any cookbooks in this bitch.”

Drake x Alyssa

Drake’s eyes were fixed on the road as he drove Alyssa to the airport. Alyssa was singing along with a 90s song on the radio. Her hand rested lightly on top of Drake’s as DCA loomed in the distance.

“I wish you didn’t have to go”, Drake muttered as he changed lanes.

“Shhhhhh…I’m serenading you”, Alyssa scolded.

Drake grinned as he shook his head. How did this little tornado bowl him over so quickly? She made him smile, she made him tingle, she made him feel complete in a way no one had before.

Not even Brooks.

Guilt and sadness filled him at the thought of Riley. He needed to talk to her, but he had no idea what to say. Sorry wasn’t going to cut it, and Drake wasn’t good with words. He was shaken from his thoughts by Alyssa asking him if he enjoyed her singing to him.

“Of course, Devereaux. You should stay and give me an encore.”

“When I get back! And if we’re still together this time next year, I’ll bring you with me. Daniel and my friends will be thrilled to meet you!” Alyssa promised, her blue eyes meeting his brown ones.

“If we’re still together next Christmas, I’m taking you to Texas.”

“Christmas needs cold and snow, not swimming pools and shorts!”

Drake took the exit to enter the airport. “When you come back, if you’re up for it, I want to introduce you to my friends. We get together about once a month or so and hang out. Dinner, movies, bowling……that kind of stuff.”

“I’d like that”, Alyssa said softly.

Her eyes grew anxious. “What will you be doing on Christmas Day? I don’t want you to be alone.”

Drake shrugged. “Sleep. Watch basketball. Dinner with my sister, her fiancé, and my nephew.” He leaned over and snatched a quick kiss. “Missing you.”

“Stop making me fall for you!” Alyssa giggled as she pushed his arm lightly.

“I’ve already fallen. Join me, won’t you?” Drake said softly.

“I might take you up on that offer.” Alyssa tightened her hold on his hand.

Drake pulled up to the doors to the airline; he shut his truck off and rushed around to open Alyssa’s door. He lifted her from the seat and helped her out. She grinned up at Drake, her eyes shiny with tears. She stood on her toes, throwing her arms around his neck.

“I’m going to miss you so much!” She pressed her pink lips against his.

“You’re back on the 28th, right?

Alyssa nodded. “Late flight, though.”

Drake kissed her again. “I don’t care if it lands at 2am. Let me know when your flight is due back. I’ll be here.”

After a lingering kiss and a tight hug, Drake pulled Alyssa’s suitcase from the back of the vehicle and walked her to the doors.

As a bitter cold wind blew through his wool coat as if it were a cotton shirt, Drake waved to Alyssa until he couldn’t see her anymore.

Liam

Liam pulled underwear and socks from his dresser drawer to toss into his suitcase. He had his Santa socks, his Christmas tree socks, his jingle bell socks, his reindeer socks. He frowned as he looked for his socks with the gift boxes; ahhhh, there they were!

He was going to Boston for Christmas. It wasn’t his original plan.

Liam had wanted to stay in DC, come into the office while everyone else was on vacation, get some work done. Spend time with his friends, maybe go out for Chinese food and a movie on Christmas Day with Riley B. Or maybe Riley B. would cook Christmas dinner, and he could go to her place. Liam wouldn’t even have minded the fact that Drake would’ve been there.

Anything to take his mind off the fact that he was alone at Christmas when he wasn’t ready to be.

But when he met up with the gang last week, neither Riley nor Drake were there. Madeleine and Leo were going to her mother’s for a Christmas Eve dinner party and staying overnight. Maxwell and Olivia were going to Bertrand’s for the day and staying for dinner.

Liam figured Riley and Drake had plans as well, probably visiting Riley’s family in North Carolina. So Liam would be alone this Christmas, and the thought of going to an empty office drained him of his motivation to prove that he was worthy of the promotion.

After dinner with the gang, Liam had called his mom and told her he wanted to come home for Christmas. Eleanor had been ecstatic; she missed her sons.

“Is your brother coming?” she asked excitedly. Leo was not her biological child, but Eleanor considered him her own.

“Not this time. He’s going with Madeleine to see her mother. And he has to work the day after Christmas.”

“Well, we’ll see him next time! And we can Skypetime him or something! Now, I’m making a turkey and a leg of lamb. And my oyster dressing. And corn. And mashed potatoes with sour cream and giblet gravy.”

“Mom, you know I hate oyster dressing!” Liam protested.

“Your father loves it! I’ll make two dressings, but yours is coming out of a box.”

“Why can’t you just scoop mine out before you add the oysters?” Liam frowned.

“Stop frowning! Maybe I can do that…. we’ll see. You eat your weight in dressing, Mister!”

“How did you even know I was frowning?” Liam asked curiously.

“You’re my son. I know what you do!”

Liam smirked thinking that if his mom knew all he did……

“I know you do that too! So when will you be here?”

“Looking up flights now.”

“Let us know so I can have your father pick you up.”

“I can Uber, mom. You guys don’t need to come pick me up!”

“Nonsense. Your father will be there. Okay, gotta go……600 Pound Life is coming on, and I need inspiration to stick to my diet!”

Liam tossed in pants and sweaters; after some internal debate, he tossed in his work laptop. He had reached out to some old friends still in Boston, so hopefully he wouldn’t be working, but just in case. His packing done, he glanced at the clock. He had an early flight out in the morning, but he wasn’t sleepy.

He was thinking about Riley B. and what she was doing. He wondered what Drake bought her for Christmas. He hadn’t asked anyone for suggestions as he usually did. Liam wondered if it was a ring.

His eyes fell on the wrapped present he had bought for Riley B. They hadn’t done Secret Santa this year, but Liam knew Riley B. would love the bottle of Coco Chanel Mademoiselle. It was one of her favorite scents.

Liam decided to wait to see what Drake got her; it was five years now for them. Time to put a ring on it or let her go. If Drake did give her a ring, it could be an engagement present.

Liam hoped it wouldn’t be.

With a sigh, he climbed into bed and turned off the lamp. He grabbed his phone and texted Riley, wishing her a Merry Christmas.

She responded back almost immediately. Merry Christmas, bestie.

Liam stared at his screen before sending his response. You’re my best friend, too.

He rolled over, closing his eyes, phone clasped in his hand. I love you.

Tagging: @sirbeepsalot @wannabemc2 @topsyturvy-dream @jared2612 @katedrakeohd @hopefulmoonobject @custaroonie @i-am-liam-rhys @jovialyouthmusic @thequeenofcronuts @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @amomentofsinclairity @bobasheebaby @ao719 @sashatrr @marietrinmimi @ladyangel70 @gardeningourmet @umccall71 @angi15h @romanticatheart-posts @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @blznbaby @tabithacarlisle @emceesynonymroll @bbrandy2002 @ab1901 @janezillow @debramcg1106 @radlovedreamer @jessiembruno @lodberg @thecordoniandiaries @ramseyandrys @caroldxnvxrs @princess-geek @burnsoslow @annekebbphotography @merridithsmiscellany-blog @emichelle @indiacater @loveellamae @forthebrokenheartedthings-blog @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @bebepac @zaffrenotes @queenjilian @princessleac1

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revchainsaw · 3 years

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Demon Wind (1990)

Greetings and blessings upon you my flock! Welcome to the Cult of Cult. I am your pastor and priest of pop culture, ordained minister of genre films, the good reverend Chainsaw McGraw. You may just call me Reverend Chainsaw. Come and accept our sacrament upon the altar of online internet reviews. Our first holy offering is an absolute treasure, 1990′s Demon Wind. An offering ripped from the blood inked pages of the Evil Dead’s Necronomicon Ex Mortis, Demon Wind is not quite an unofficial entry into the world of Ash and the Deadites, but if you have exhausted the Catalogue of Sam Raimi Horror flicks (and let’s be honest, if you’re reading a Tumblr review of Demon Wind, you probably have), then Demon Wind will scratch that itch for sure.

The Message

Our anointed offering opens upon a boarded up farm house owned by simple country occultists George and Regina Carter. There’s a Mean Girls reference to be made here. George and Regina are defending their homestead from an unseen force (A Demon Wind some might say) through a Christian/Witchcraft combination of gospel music, a set of holy daggers, and a diary full of Regina’s spells. Unfortunately it’s not very effective, and George is possessed. George kills Regina, drops a snow globe, and for some inexplicable reason the farmhouse explodes bringing the films epilogue to a close.

With that we are brought to the year 1990 where our rag tag group of heroes converge upon the supernaturally supercharged Carter farm with one mission in mind, helping a homie sort out his shit. What a great group of friends; I can barely get the crew together for a game night but our protagonist Cory has a group of friends so tight they are willing to drop everything and drive untold miles to nowhere in particular just because he had a bad dream. Speaking of “tight” friends, of our doomed party, no friends are so tight as Chuck and Stacey, but we’ll get to that, in short order. Let us meet the fellowship of ding dongs who will battle the blustery bogeys of Demon Wind.

Cory is the star of the show. A fairly blasé everyman who’s so caught up in his chosen one journey that he can’t even bother to be slightly interesting. He is the grandchild of the oh so fetch (see I got to it) Regina/George pairing from earlier in the film. Cory is haunted by mysterious dreams, and a tragic reunion with his demented father, which draw him to the Carter farm. There is however more to meets the eye, you see Cory is from the planet Namek. Watch the movie, you’ll catch my drift.

Elaine is Cory's girlfriend and wants nothing more than to pull her pants down in public to bring a smile to his face.

Dell is Cory’s friend? Bully? Enemy? it’s not entirely clear. It seems Dells role in this story is to be an unabashed asshole and chauvinist to every character that interacts with him. He is also perhaps Elaine’s brother, or someone's brother. Listen, you’d have to pay wayyyy more attention than this movie warrants to parse out all the relationship dynamics in this flick. Let’s just say, Dell is here, and despite how he acts, the other characters seem to be ok with that fact.

Terri is Dell’s girlfriend and a good friend of Elaine. Despite being on the arm of a typical 80s teen flick bad guy, Terri seems to be the most eligible bachelorette on the Carter farm. Or so it may seem, but as I’ll explain later I think there is a truer love than can be expressed that really keeps Terri from leaving Dell.

Jack is a Big Ol’ Nerd. He speaks like the writers were convinced using a thesaurus was enough to convince us that the guy is existentially unfuckable. The guy is basically just Billy from Power Rangers, but instead of piloting a badass Triceratops Zord he just kids very mildly bummed when the love of his life is transformed into a very judgmental spontaneously combusting doll.

Speaking of spontaneously combusting dolls, the victim of that very unfair end is Bonnie. Bonnie clearly had way more confidence in the love of her bookish beaux than she should have. The betrayal is immense, not that Jack couldn’t save her, but just in the fact that when she meets her demise (despite the fact that he promised he’d protect her) he is not at all distraught. Poor Bonnie, she is by far the most human feeling of the cardboard cut out female protagonists in this film and she deserved better. Let’s be honest, Jack was looking for an out, and Bonnie was just too real for this movie.

And Now, without further ado, I’d like to introduce the greatest power couple in the history of B Movie Horror Cinema: Chuck and Stacy. If you think my introduction is a bit much, I promise that the film goes much further. Demon Wind begins it’s love affair with this bromance in delightfully extravagant style. There’s magic, explosions, opera, karate, beer and bunnies and a big ol middle finger to fucking Dell. Chuck had at once been romantically involved with Terri, but things went south somehow and he claims that he still holds a flame for her. Despite this continued insistence I think it’s plain to see that Chuck found comfort, magic, and a ride or die hunk in the arms of Stacey. Stacey is a suave, sharp, smooth talking guy, whose only desire in life seems to be whatever keeps Chuck around, and that seems to mean a lot of stage magic and martial arts! I could write about Chuck and Stacey all day, so I’ll move on from here.

The cast of this film is wild and honestly even the weak ones are fun to watch. There is no character on the roster who is easy to mistake for another. That is why it is so fun to watch them meet their demise and even more fun to see them return under the possession of the demon wind as oopy goopy caricatures of their human selves. And this does go on for quite awhile. Unfortunately even Chuck and Stacey are not enough to protect the surreal landscape in which they find themselves. At one point in the film a second set of friends drop by to add 2 more bodies to the massacre. Willy and Reena, a gangly set of clothing accessories who are given legs, but hey Ear Ring and Beret, I mean Willy and Reena are still fun to see torn to shreds.

The movie ultimately reveals that the madness was sparked by the fact that a cult worshipping a Demon God named Delos had actually built the homestead and the cursed ground they stand upon is the stage for the cult leader, a preacher named Anders to finally become the host of said Demon God. As interesting as that lore may sound on paper, it’s not particularly well executed, and Cory’s role to play in all of this is even more vague. All in all the 3rd act of this film feels a bit anti-climatic even if it does feature a demon superhero fight.

All that said I’d like to move on to the next phase of our sacred liturgy. The sacred and profane, the highs and lows of this movie.

Benediction

Best Feature: What the What?

The best feature of Demon Wind has to be how bizarre it is. It throws everything it can think of at the audience. Burning Skeletons leap from Crosses, eggs that hatch into piles of worms, EXPLODING BABY DOLLS, Cow skulls with long sticky tongues made of human intestines! They certainly sacrificed logic in order to insure they provided the audience with something they haven’t seen before.

Best Kill/ effect: A Cowmen Album Cover!

The best effect in Demon Wind is also it’s best kill. while investigating a barn on the Carter property, which is full of occult symbols, animal remains, and fun Texas Chainsaw Massacre style crafts. One of the crafts catches the eye of Beret, I mean Reena. You know by her hat that she knows a thing or to about fine art. This particular piece of barn décor is a human skeleton with a cow’s skull. As she is inspecting this “beautiful” piece, what appears to be a human intestine, flies from the mouth of the cow skull and wraps around Reena like a chameleons tongue. The intestine begins to retreat into the jaw of the skull bringing Reena’s head along with it. The skull chomps down into Reena, we get a satisfyingly bloody show, and Reena’s body winds up hanging limp from its mouth.

Second place belongs to Bonnie, but we’ve already spoken to that bizarre spectacle.

Best Scene: I Now Pronounce you Chuck and Stacey!

Chuck and Stacey enter the scene. I know I’m inconsistent in how I spell Stacey/Stacy. This scene was mentioned above and you just have to see it. Watch until Cory intervenes.

Best Character(s): Stacey Cassidy and the Sundance Chuck

Stacey is the best character in this film, but as I’m sure he wouldn’t accept this honor alone I have to make it a tie. Chuck and Stacey are just so good. Every moment they are on screen is a treasure. The introduction of these two just received the honor of best scene, but they shine as Demons and in an even longer sequence leading to their demise. They take the watch at the Carter home and from the fog emerges a t!ddy ghost, my congregants will be familiar with this sort of creature, who attempts to lure them outside. Stacey puffs up Chucks confidence calling him “John Wayne”, Chuck proposes they go on a Tahitian vacation, but Stacey wisely wary of voodoo suggests Vegas. And there you have it, these two pure good boys are surviving this flick and they are getting married in Vegas. Unfortunately, they decide to speed things up a bit, and decide that although they are not tempted by the t!ddy ghost, that they can use their karate magic to defeat the demonic hordes. They march out into the woods, but we can add the power of love to the list of things that are no use against the Demon Wind. Our best boys meet their fates together like two old west heroes, guns blazing! Oh, oh, but they come back as demons and they eat Dell, so thank God for that.

Worst feature: I ordered these Deadites from Wish

The villains are not particularly interesting. It’s boring, goopy, bad mouth piece demons that have appeared in hundreds of demon flicks already by this point, and it really makes you want to go back to the unexplained paranormal happenings from earlier in the movie rather than fighting these dollar store Deadites. The fact that the film leans into this in it’s third act really makes the film feel incredibly front loaded.

Worst scene: Cory in the House

Pretty much any scene that focuses on Cory is a bit weak. He’s just not fun. He gets to transform into an anime character in the end of the film and he’s still melodramatic and boring. This is often a problem with main characters in films, the writers don’t want them to be unlikeable or too quirky so the fun parts are always the supporting cast.

Worst Character: Dude, you’re NOT getting a Dell!

Don’t get me wrong, I hate Dell. But Dell is a big dumb goon who is just so fun to watch suffer and act like an utter meathead, and being hateable is not the worst thing a character can be. For this reason I have to give the worst character award to Cory; for many of the reasons I spoke about above.

Summary:

How fitting that a B movie gets a B. But that’s really a great place for this movie to be. So many big Hollywood productions don’t deserve that spot. Though Demon Wind may drag in the middle, and the characters and effects may be quite corny, it is certainly not boring. Demon Wind is eye candy even though it looks so ugly. It has some of the most loveable murder lambs in the genre and one of my favorite bromances in all of cinema, If you are a fan of Gonzo Horror then Demon Wind is a must see. If you are not all that into that sort of thing I promise you’ll have a good time. I highly recommend it.

Overall Grade: B

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flowerfan2 · 4 years

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Gray Skies - Ch. 6

This chapter’s a little longer - and satisfied my urge to write a New England in winter story for Steve and Danny. Enjoy, and happy new year!

Living with depression doesn’t have to mean living without love. An AU that branches off in Season 10.

McDanno, A03, 9k so far

Chapter 6

The ivy-clad grounds of Grace’s small New England college are as different from the tropical shores of Hawaii as anything could be. Steve stands back and crosses his arms, content, as Danny and Grace walk ahead of him on the path through the quad, Danny waving his arms and beaming as he talks with his beloved daughter.

It’s exactly how Steve imagined.

Of course, in his vision they weren’t quite as bundled up, and he couldn’t see Danny’s breath, but Steve doesn’t mind the cold. He even bought Danny a new coat, a short, black, slim-fitting down jacket, to replace that strange olive green thing Danny wore when he came to him in D.C.

Danny refused to wear the matching hat, though, and Steve wonders if he’s regretting it, the tips of Danny’s ears going pink in the chilly air. Grace didn’t have any such qualms, and is sporting the pom-pom hat Steve brought her. “My friends are gonna love this,” she had exclaimed, pulling on the turquoise beanie adorned with yellow pineapples and the word “Aloha” along the bottom. She twirled around to model it, and for a minute, she was eight years old again, showing off a new party dress.

Steve had made sure to capture the moment, quickly getting pictures of Danny and his grown-up daughter, arms around each other and broad smiles on their faces.

Now they’re on their way to lunch in Grace’s dining hall, after a morning spent at a welcome presentation and a talk about “making the most” out of the college experience. After lunch, there are a handful of classes they can visit, and seminars about a variety of topics, including a panel on public service that has caught Steve’s interest.

The dining hall is packed with people, and Grace leads them through the tables until she gets to the one she is looking for. A tall girl with long blond hair pops up and squeals at Grace, while two people that must be her parents look on indulgently. Another girl yells from a few tables away and soon joins in the hug, several more family members tagging along behind her.

After they all find seats, Grace introduces her roommates. The tall blond girl is Hannah, from L.A. Maritza, who has her mother, grandmother, and two younger brothers in attendance, is from Texas. “Sam and Alaina are at the Athletics lunch,” Grace explains to Steve, as she passes around a pile of napkins, “but they’re going to try to catch up with us later. Alaina’s mom grew up on Kauai, she really wants to meet you.”

With that the topic of conversation turns to Hawaii, and what Steve and Danny do for a living. Steve tries to let Danny carry the conversation, but Danny keeps getting distracted by his daughter, who is proudly pointing out other people in the room that she wants them to meet.

Before they’ve even finished their lunch (fairly mediocre soup and sandwiches, but that’s not really the point), Grace is up and dragging Danny over to meet one of her professors. Steve picks at his turkey and cheese and watches them, Danny’s blond head and Grace’s dark one, leaning together as Grace whispers to her dad.

“Grace is a lovely girl,” Maritza’s grandmother says. “We met her when we visited in the fall.”

Steve turns to the woman sitting on his left. Her dark hair swings around her face in a tidy bob, and she looks way too young to be someone’s grandmother. “Thanks. I’m Steve, by the way. Isabella, right?”

She smiles. “Yes, that’s me.”

“You’re lucky that you got to visit already. This is my first time.”

She nods. “Must have been hard for you both to come all the way from Hawaii for all those college tours. Maritza managed to see about half of the ones she applied to. For the rest, we figured we’d worry about it if she got in.”

Steve takes a moment to wonder what Grace has told people about him and Danny. He’s not even sure what she knows about their change in status, so to speak. Steve didn’t come along on any college tours, although he and Danny texted so often when Danny was doing them he almost feels like he was there. Steve decides to change the subject before he puts his foot in his mouth.

“Where in Texas do you live, Isabella? I have a former teammate who did his training at the Naval base in Fort Worth.”

They stretch out the day as long as they can, wanting to spend as much time as they have with Grace, but by evening Danny and Steve are both lagging.

Grace shakes her head at them as the waiter brings their check. They’ve spent the past two hours in a cozy restaurant that is apparently the place all the kids go when parents are the ones footing the bill, and it lived up to its reputation. Danny is still trying to figure out how to make the potato ravioli that came with his short ribs, and Steve was very satisfied with the scallop dish he ordered. He even split a dessert with Danny, a dark chocolate whiskey cake that was served warm with espresso ice cream, and snuck bites of Grace’s creamy cheesecake with a gingersnap crust.

“You guys are done for tonight, you know,” Grace says as they stand up and start pulling on their coats. “All that’s left is the freshman musical showcase, and no one expects their parents to come to that – at least not unless they’re performing in it.”

“You could perform in it,” Danny says, unwilling to admit that there is anything his Grace can’t do.

“I could, but I’m not – I’m going back to my room to finish my chem homework, and then I’m going to sleep.”

“All right, all right,” Steve says, putting an arm around Grace’s shoulders and hugging her close. “We get it. We’ll let you get back to your life.”

“See you tomorrow for breakfast?” Danny says. “At that diner, right?”

“Right.” They exchange more hugs, and then Grace is skipping off down the street, turning to wave just before she turns the corner and disappears out of sight.

Back at their B&B, they chat for a few minutes with a few people who are socializing in the living room on the first floor, Steve poking at the logs in the fireplace and generally scoping out the place while Danny questions another parent about his student’s experience with a seminar Grace is interested in, and then they climb the stairs to their third floor room.

They had arrived late the night before, and hadn’t had much of a chance to appreciate the charmingly decorated room. More than the antique furnishings, however, Steve is excited to get back into the king-sized bed, with its ample down duvet and piles and piles of fluffy pillows.

Soon enough, he tells himself.

“You wanna have the first shower?” Steve approaches Danny, who hung his coat in the wardrobe and then stood staring into it for long enough that Steve wonders if he fell asleep on his feet.

“What? Oh, yeah, thanks.” Danny smiles at him, tired but obviously still happy, and grabs his kit bag out of his duffel. “I won’t be long.”

Steve takes his turn in the bathroom after Danny, and when he gets out, clad only in his boxers, he dives under the covers as quickly as he can.

“Oh my god, you’re insane,” Danny says, opening his arms and pulling him close. “Come here, come here. Your feet are like ice. You’re ridiculous.”

Steve grins and burrows into Danny, who is giving off heat like a stove, as always. “I can’t help it.”

“You just took a hot shower, didn’t you? How can your toes still be this cold? What’s wrong with you?” But Danny’s actions show he doesn’t really mind, as he gathers Steve close to him and wraps the heavy comforter around them both.

“I can put some socks on, if you want-”

“Socks, maybe some pajamas? You are completely lacking in sense.” Danny’s got their legs twined together, Steve’s wet head tucked up against his t-shirt clad chest. He doesn’t actually seem that interested in Steve getting out of bed to put more clothes on.

Steve kisses his collarbone. “You’ll keep me warm.”

“I’ll try.” Danny shuffles them some more, getting comfortable, and Steve can feel himself relax into his hold.

“Grace seems really happy,” Steve comments. It’s true, it couldn’t be more obvious that Grace is thriving here, despite being so far away from home.

“Yeah, she’s doing great.” Steve can hear the pride and relief in Danny’s words. “Thanks for bringing me here, Steve. I mean it.”

Steve presses another kiss to Danny’s chest, then lays his head back down. “It’s my pleasure, Danno. I had a good day today too.”

“Yeah, we did, didn’t we?” Danny opens his mouth to say something else, but his words are lost in a jaw cracking yawn.

“Get some sleep,” Steve says. “We’ll see Grace again in the morning.”

“Hmm, okay.”

Steve tugs the blanket a little higher around Danny’s shoulders, making sure he’s covered up, and lets himself drift off to the sound of Danny’s gentle snores.

Unfortunately, despite the absolutely perfect feeling of being warmly wrapped in Danny’s arms, Steve can’t stay asleep. He chalks it up to the time difference, and after an hour of trying not to move and wake Danny up, he reluctantly climbs out of bed.

The floor is freezing, where it’s not covered with a rug, and Steve hastily pulls on his jeans and sweater, and takes his coat with him just in case. He’s got it in his head that he’s going to go for a walk, but when he gets downstairs and pokes his head outside, he changes his mind.

The porch is lit with twinkling white fairy lights, and the outdoor heaters are still on. There are three small tables with chairs tucked in around them, and a porch swing adorned with festive cushions. Jackpot, Steve thinks, and claims the swing, moving it gently back and forth.

The clearing in front of the B&B is framed with pine trees. Steve imagines they would look lovely dusted with snow, although he’s just as glad it’s not quite that cold yet. He lets his thoughts wander, thinking over how well the trip has gone so far.

It’s only been a week since Danny kissed him, but Steve considers it one of the best weeks he’s ever had. Danny had bounced back quickly from his slump a few days ago. Although work got in the way of their lunch with Kono, they met her at dive bar on the north shore that night, and took up a corner booth all evening long, trading stories and enjoying each other’s company.

Steve had thought about inviting the rest of the team, but after a little while he was glad he hadn’t. There was something about being together, just the three of them, that seemed right. They had experienced so much together that the more recent members of the team had only heard about. Steve feels a little selfish, keeping Kono for themselves, but he figures it won’t do too much harm. And when he sees Danny leaning into Kono’s shoulder, talking in low tones about how he’s been feeling, he figures Danny is probably glad they kept the group small as well.

Steve is startled out of his reverie by a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, what are you doing out here?”

It’s really a rhetorical question, and Danny doesn’t wait for an answer, shoving at Steve’s leg until he slides over on the swing and makes room for Danny to sit down. Danny gives the swing an experimental few rocks, and then sighs, leaning his head back. Steve wraps his arm around Danny and they swing together, Steve pushing at the floor with one foot to keep them moving.

“You doing okay, babe?”

Steve squints at Danny. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He is, he just can’t sleep. Nothing new.

“You really hit it off with Maritza’s grandmother.”

Steve can’t tell if Danny is trying to make a joke or not. “Yeah, she seems like a real nice lady. Close to Maritza, too, and her younger brothers. She watches them afterschool. Apparently likes to play baseball with them.”

Steve had been impressed by Isabella, and Maritza’s mom, too. Single parenting didn’t seem to be too much for either of them to handle. Maritza’s mom worked full time, but was still very involved in the lives of all three of her children, driving carpools, helping with the school play, and coaching little league on weekends.

Isabella wasn’t the only grandparent at family weekend, either. Danny’s mom and dad had even planned on going, until Steve had gotten tickets for him and Danny and they decided to let them have all of Grace’s attention. The only reason Rachel isn’t present is because she caught the flu from Charlie. Grace is surrounded on all sides by people who love her – moms and dads and grandparents who want to be there for all the important events in her life.

Quite a contrast with Doris.

Steve feels that ache in his chest again, and he looks up to find Danny studying him closely.

“You have a terrible poker face, you know,” Danny says.

“No, buddy, that’s you.”

Danny huffs. “It was a lot of family stuff today. Thanks for putting up with it.”

Steve frowns. “I love family stuff – especially your family stuff. I didn’t have to put up with anything. I mean, it’s not like I’m going to have any kids of my own. Might as well live vicariously.”

The words come out as lightly as he can manage, but Danny squeezes closer to him and lays his head on his shoulder. “My kids love you, you know that.”

Steve shrugs, ignoring the hot feeling behind his eyes.

“You’ve known Charlie for as long as I have,” Danny goes on. “You’re as much his dad as I am.”

This clearly isn’t true, and Steve says so. “Besides, Charlie already has two dads, and a mom as well.”

“There’s no limit on how many people can love a kid. Charlie’s luckier than most, that’s all.”

Steve scrubs at his face and takes a deep breath. “Today was a little hard,” he finally admits, voice quiet. “I think about it, sometimes.”

“Having kids?”

Steve nods. “Yeah. Not now, not really. I’m too old. But… what might have been, if I had found someone sooner.” He thinks of little kids who might have looked like Catherine, dark haired and bright eyed.

“Not that I would have been a very good dad.”

Danny shoves him and stands up, knocking the swing back. “What the hell are you talking about? You’d be a great dad.”

Steve stands up too, one hand on the swing to stop it from knocking into the side of the building. “Keep your voice down, it’s the middle of the night.”

“I’ll be as loud as I need to,” Danny exclaims, although he does quiet down somewhat. “Fuck, Steve, how you can think that about yourself? You look out for Grace and Charlie as if they were your own, they know they can trust you, rely on you. They love you.”

“I didn’t exactly have the best role models, growing up.”

“Well it didn’t matter, not for this.” Danny paces across the porch, silently fuming.

It warms Steve, even though his sadness. “I appreciate your show of support, Danny, but it’s water under the bridge.”

Danny stomps a little more, and then sits down on the swing. Steve joins him, bumping him with his shoulder. Danny bumps him back, then goes still.

“It doesn’t have to be,” Danny says quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“You said it’s water under the bridge – it doesn’t have to be. If you really wanted kids – more kids than Grace and Charlie,” Danny gives Steve a meaningful look, daring him to argue about his status with the Williams children, “you could still have kids.”

“That’s not how biology works, Danny,” Steve says, waggling his eyebrows at him.

“I didn’t mean-” Danny huffs. “You’re such a child. But be that as it may, you could still have kids, like with a surrogate. Or adopt, like Mary did. Even foster. Think of the difference you made in Nahele’s life.”

“No, honestly, Danny, that’s not what I want.” At his age, with his health problems, Steve really can’t see himself having a baby, or even an older child. It wouldn’t be fair. “I just think about what it might have been like, that’s all.”

Danny considers this. “Promise to tell me if you change your mind?”

Steve quirks his eyebrow at him. “Why?”

“I like kids,” Danny says. “Babies. Toddlers. Hormonal teenagers, take your pick.” Danny shrugs. “I come from a family of four siblings, you’ll recall.”

Steve feels his heart swell. “Are you saying you want to make a baby with me?” He’s being silly, but it’s more to cover up his ridiculous feelings than anything else. Is Danny seriously proposing that they have kids, or foster, or something – anything – together?

Danny fixes him with a determined stare, the fairy lights reflecting in his blue eyes. “I’m saying that you should let me know if you change your mind.”

Steve wraps his arm around Danny and pulls him close. “I won’t, Danno. But – thank you.”

They cuddle on the swing for a few more minutes, then go back upstairs, strip down, and get into bed. Steve really doesn’t want to have kids of his own, not any more. But he realizes he misspoke before, when he said he didn’t have a good role model for being a dad. Because one of the best dads he’s ever met is next to him right now, curled up heavy and warm against his chest.

“Stop worrying, Steven,” Danny says, reaching up to run his hand over Steve’s head, and cup his cheek to bring his face to his for a kiss. “We’ve got plans with our girl tomorrow.”

<i>Our girl.</i> Steve can’t remember if Danny has called Grace that before. Maybe he has, and Steve is just now noticing?

On that note… “I think Grace’s roommates think that we’re a couple,” Steve whispers. Isabella certainly did.

“We are a couple,” Danny says, squirming closer and kissing him again.

“But that just happened. Does Grace even know?”

Danny pulls back and looks at Steve. “Babe, she knew it long before we did. Now, do you want to keep talking about Grace, or do you wanna-” Danny throws a leg over Steve’s thigh, and it’s clear which option Danny wants Steve to choose.

Steve still has more questions. He’s not done thinking about Danny’s children, and what the change in his relationship with Danny might mean to his relationship with Danny’s kids (does it mean he’s more of a dad? A step-dad? Is being “Uncle Steve” enough, or better?). But Steve is only human. Danny is hard and hot against him, and Steve isn’t about to look this gift horse in the mouth (at least not until he’s done checking out some more demanding parts of Danny’s anatomy).

“Fool around now, talk more tomorrow,” he decides, tugging Danny’s boxers down over his ass. From the indecent noise Danny makes when Steve takes him in hand, Steve’s certain he made the right choice.

#mcdanno #Hawaii Five-0 #h50 #H50 fic #tw: depression

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waywardnewcomer · 5 years

Text

Reunited Part Twelve

A/N: Please don’t hate me for leaving this for 7 months. And also for the ending. Enjoy!

Summary: The Padalecki-Cortese Clan head to New York for the weekend of their lives.

Warnings: Fluff, Cliff Hanger, Pain, You’re going to hate me

Pairings: Jared x Stepdaughter!Reader, Genevieve x Goddaughter!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Previous Part Series Masterpost Masterlist

Ever since Jared had suggested the idea of proposing you couldn’t get your mind off it. You couldn’t wait to be a proper family and for your parents to be happy together. Hopefully, you’d get some brothers and sisters too.

You and Jared had decided the best place for him to propose was at the New York Metropolitan Museum of Art in front of their favourite painting. Jared had covered it up by taking you all on a small family vacation to New York for the weekend. As much as you couldn’t wait for their engagement you were looking forward to walking through Central Park and wading through the orange autumnal leaves. The shopping places and views were a bonus too.

You literally skipped off the plane as you landed in New York making your parents giggle at you happily.

“Easy cowboy, have to get to the hotel first.” Your Mom laughed as you looked outside every window you walked past.

“I know, it’s just so beautiful! I can’t wait to look around. Can we come back in the winter when it snows?” You pleaded.

“Of course bub sounds like a plan.” Your Dad smiled fondly.

As you rode in the taxi to the hotel you literally had your face pressed up to the window taking in all the skyscrapers and the shops. It was like you’d never been out of Texas before; like you were a little kid.

When your Mom went to get the keys your Dad nudged you a little giving you a bear hug.

“Are you nervous? I’m nervous. Is it hot in here?” He started tugging at his sweater making you laugh.

“Dad, calm down,” You touched his arm lightly. “It’s going to be fine, she’s going to say yes. We’re going to be a family.” You smiled widely.

“We are aren’t we?” He laughed, hugging you once more before your Mom came back and sussed it out.

Once you’d unpacked and dressed a little more warmly for the weather, you set out on your quest for orange leaves at Central Park. You planned to walk around for an hour or so and then go to the Met and hopefully going out for a celebratory dinner.

You stomped in the leaves and chucked them into the air, your Mom and Dad following not far behind looking at you with fondness in their eyes. They were taking pictures of you, laughing and enjoying your happiness.

“How did I get so lucky?” Jared spoke, staring at you and back down at Gen smiling happily.

“It was fate.” Gen smiled back, giving him a quick kiss and thinking how lucky she was to have you in her life.

You taught Gen a lot about responsibility, taking on a daughter at a young age wasn’t easy and she wasn’t prepared but you helped her along the way. Of all the kids in the world, she was glad it was you. You made it so easy for her to fall into the role of a mother and you brought her to her true love. You couldn’t have been more of a blessing if you tried.

Jared was just as lucky. You and your Mom came at the best possible time in his life and when he lost you he never thought he’d be the same again. When you and Gen popped back up he had never felt luckier and that day he had vowed to never let you go. He was eager to make it official when he got married to the woman of his dreams. He’d never felt happier looking at his future.

As you skipped outside the Met you gave your Dad a knowing smile, smirking as he checked his pockets for the last time.

“Shall we go and look at some art like the real art connoisseurs we are?” You asked, putting on a posh voice.

“We shall,” Your Mom laughed, following suit and linking arms with you.

Your Dad shook his head and followed his girls in, this was it.

“And in this painting here you can clearly feel the undertones of disappointment and anger in the brush strokes,” You stated, completely making it up as you went along making your Mom and Dad laugh.

“Very insightful, I would like this in my art collection,” Your Mom nodded laughing.

“And now we come to the Joan of Arc, arguably the most romantic painting of the era,” You paused watching your Dad get down on one knee behind your Mom. “The home of many engagements and love affairs,” You wiggled your eyebrows making your Mom laugh.

“Tonights no exception,” Your Dad spoke making your Mom turn around and gasp in awe. This was your cue to start recording. “After I lost Faith and y/n I didn’t think I’d love again. And then I found you and you brought me back to y/n and I couldn’t love you more. You were a blessing in my life and you made my very broken heart whole again. I don’t know what I’d do without you and more importantly, I don’t know what y/n would do without you as a Mom. I love you so much Genevieve and there’s nothing I want more than to spend the rest of my life with you and add to our perfect family. Genevieve Nicole Cortese, would you do me the highest honour of being my wife?”

You could see your Mom was blown away and struggling with words so you butted in; “Joan of Arc has never witnessed a no, but no pressure.”

“Of course it’s a yes. It’s been a yes since the day I met you. I love you both so much.” She gushed, kissing him passionately.

“Another point for Joan of Arc,” You mimicked high fiving the painting before shutting off your recording and giving your parents the biggest of hugs. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you so much baby girl. This was perfect Jared.” Your Mom smiled, kissing your forehead and smiling up at her now fiancee.

The rest of your weekend was spent celebrating the engagement, shopping and seeing a west end show. It had been one of the best weekends of your life and you didn’t want it to end. The whole flight back you looked at photos and videos from your trips as fond memories. None of you were ready to share them with the world yet. You wanted to hold on to them for a bit longer before they became public knowledge.

You lazed in the car ride back home, ready to see Honey but completely zonked from the trip back. It had been a long weekend of fun, excitement and long journeys and it had completely worn you out.

Genevieve looked at you from the front seat and smiled fondly. She took Jared’s hand and sighed happily.

“She looks so content. Thank you for this weekend, I couldn’t have asked for anything better.” She smiled at him lazily.

“You’re very welcome. I can’t wait to call you my wife and to make y/n my official daughter.” He grinned. “You’re making my dreams come true.”

“As are you, Mr Padalecki.”

“Car,” You mumbled as you woke up from your sleep, suddenly awake.

“What honey?” Jared asked you.

“CAR!” You screamed just before the car T-boned you on yours and Genevieve’s side. You felt immense pain in your side and flashbacks from yours and your Mom’s car crash flooded your mind before everything went black.

Not again, they never saw it coming.

Next Part

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grapesodatozier · 5 years

Text

It’s Not Like Christmas At All

merry chrysler!! have some christmas wheelzier angst lol

title taken from “Christmas (Baby, Please Come Home)” which is my favorite christmas song ever

words: 4,226

no warnings other than sadness lol

read on ao3 or below!!

It had been the one of the worst Decembers of Mike’s life. He loved his new job, he really did, but it had him living in Florida, and the only place he sometimes travelled to was Texas. He’d once been sent to Nevada, which had been awesome, but it still didn’t change much temperature-wise. Mike felt so out of his element; December wasn’t supposed to be hot. Getting up every morning for work was so much worse when he had to put on light clothes. He grimaced whenever he left the house without a jacket, the image of snow-covered mountains on his calendar mocking him. He pouted as he tried to smooth his frizzy hair down all day, a struggle that was year-round in Florida. He missed New York, where the humidity only affected him for about a quarter of the year. He missed the trees and the lights and the snow and the hot chocolate. He even missed the carolers and the tourists.

Most of all he missed Richie.

It had been ten months since Mike landed his new job at NASA. It had been seven months since he and Richie had come to the painful realization that Richie living in New York City while sometimes travelling to Los Angeles and Mike living in Florida while sometimes travelling to Texas was not going to allow for their relationship to continue. This was Mike’s first Christmas without Richie in five years, and he just wanted to drink spiked egg nog with him while cuddling under a blanket and watching Christmas movies. The heat and humidity were salt in wounds that were still very open and felt very fresh.

Mike loved his job; it was his dream job. He even went to the holiday party his local branch had thrown, and it was actually pretty fun - maybe not as flashy as the ones he’d attended with his famous comedian boyfriend, but impressive as far as company holiday parties go. But he still had to face the mistletoe, had to remember that there would be no lanky, charming dork to pull him underneath it so that he could press tipsy kisses all over Mike’s face in front of high profile people Mike was trying to impress. Mike smiled fondly at the memory of Richie calming him down, of working the nerves out of him with a little bit of rum and a whole lot of hand holding and kisses to his heated cheeks. A year later and Mike swore he could feel the ghost of that large hand placed on his lower back to gently guide him through the crowd. You’re so cute when you’re star-struck. He could hear the low, teasing voice in his ear, he could almost feel his breath cascading down his neck. Mike struggled to remember the smell of his cologne, something he desperately didn’t want to forget.

Mike had made plenty of work friends, some of whom recognized him as Richie Tozier’s boyfriend from the tabloids and all of whom did their best to set him up with eligible bachelors and bachelorettes at any opportunity. Mike was sure that news of whom he had broken up with to get this job had spread, and he also knew that he looked pretty miserable at times, despite the genuine love he felt for what he did. Because of this, he wasn’t surprised that his friends were trying to get him to move on. He even accepted one of the dates a couple of weeks before, but the entire night things fell flat. No one had Richie’s wit, no one painted bold strokes to bring out Mike’s own like Richie had.

His one solace was that he was leaving in the morning on a flight to Indiana, where he could see his mom and sisters, and where it would at least be cold. It had been years since Mike had spent Christmas day in Hawkins, as he and Richie had spent the morning together in their New York apartment before driving a couple of hours upstate to spend the afternoon of the holiday and the next day or two with his parents. They flew out to Hawkins after that, spending a few days with Mike’s family (and some of the Party, if they were lucky) before flying back to New York, the only place to welcome the New Year, Richie would say every year.

Despite the Florida heat, Mike’s bed felt unbelievably cold as he fell asleep on the night of December 23rd.

He was grateful for the stress of a holiday airport, as he always had something to focus on, something to keep him alert and distracted from the longing and melancholy that threatened to consume him. He read on the flight, doing his best to not think about all the planes he had taken around this time the past few years. Unfortunately, he found it nearly impossible to forget how adorably excited Richie would get watching the animation of their plane flying over the country, the way he would insist on giving Mike the window seat just to lean over him and stare at the world below. He missed the weight of Richie’s head on his shoulder, even the harsh jab of his glasses. He missed sharing a set of headphones with Richie and trying to suppress his laughter at the ridiculous sight of Richie playing highly exaggerated air guitar and air drums - much to the dismay of the haughty, three-piece-suit-clad other first class passengers. Mike spent a lot of his current flight holding back tears.

His shoulders slumped in relief as he caught sight of Nancy and Jonathan waiting for him at his gate. He hugged them both, taking his time, allowing himself the comfort of familiar embraces, familiar smells. Still, though he was happy to see them, luggage claim wasn’t the same with them. He found himself making up stories in his head about the owners of each piece of luggage like he and Richie used to do, but that only made his eyes brim with tears. He clenched his jaw and held them back, but the way Nancy rested her head on his shoulder told him he wasn’t doing a great job of hiding his efforts.

The cold air that blasted him as they exited the overheated airport was very welcome to him, and he took a moment to close his eyes and just embrace it. “You guys have no idea how good you have it,” he told them, refusing to get in the car for a solid minute. He let the cold seep into his bones, let it nip at his nose, just as it should that time of year.

Nancy and Jonathan filled Mike in on what Holly’s new girlfriend was like on the drive home, both of their voices full of mirth and amusement and resounding approval. It made Mike smile; he was happy for his sisters, even if he was a bit jealous of their thriving love lives. Mike’s heart also lifted at the knowledge that the entire Party would be home for the holiday, that all six of them would be together for the first time in a while. Having that to look forward to helped ease the tightness in his chest. He watched Indiana pass him by through the car window, nodding absently along to the mixtape Jonathan had made, answering the questions he and Nancy asked him, ignoring the empty seat next to him as best he could until they were pulling into the driveway.

Holly popped up from the couch as soon as the door opened, hugging Mike before he had the chance to even set his bags down. Karen wasn’t far behind with a warm hug, gushing about all of the freckles Mike had, “And on the fourth day of winter! I’m glad you’re taking advantage of the sun, God knows we could use some of that up here.”

Mike chatted weather with his mother for a little while longer before she told him to go upstairs and unpack. Holly insisted on taking one of Mike’s bags up to his room and chatted his ear off the whole way about all of the homework she had been assigned over break. It made Mike smile, a genuine warmth in his chest as his little sister plopped herself down onto his bed, her long blonde hair spread around her head comically. Mike debated whether or not he should unpack and then decided he could live out of his suitcase for the week before settling on the floor with his back against his desk to listen to his sister ramble.

Usually the fact that he could never get a minute alone during visits home had Mike extremely on edge, but this year there was nothing he was more grateful for. His family kept his mind off of Richie as much as possible. Holly didn’t leave his room until Karen called them down for dinner. Jonathan had gone home to eat with Joyce, Hopper, El, and Will, as well as El’s partner, which left Mike alone with his mom and sisters. Over dinner they asked him about Florida and Texas, about the food and the weather and the wildlife. (“Wait, you’ve seen how many alligators?” - Holly’s incredulous question.) Mike asked Holly as much as he could about her life while avoiding the dreaded college search questions that would undoubtedly take up the majority of the conversation on Christmas Day when Karen’s sisters and parents came over. Karen spilled all of the town gossip she knew, to which Mike listened with an amused grin and a knowing look shared with Nancy. Nancy told what she could about her job, but her career as a detective didn’t much lend itself to dinner conversation (a rule enforced more by Karen than by the United States government, as she insisted it was too dark for the dinner table).

Mike did the dishes as usual - partly to spite his dad, who never even considered washing a dish in his life, but mostly because after so many years it still made his mom so happy she got teary-eyed. If Mike hadn’t already wanted to punch Ted before, the fact that his mother got emotional at the sight of a man in her life doing something small and considerate for her sure made him want to deck him. He was putting the last of the dishes away when he heard the basement door open and the unmistakable sound of Max shouting “Wheeler!” excitedly up the stairs.

Mike beamed and rushed down the stairs, finding Lucas and Max shivering and coatless in his basement. Mike shook his head fondly - they both insisted that the walk down the block didn’t warrant coats, yet they were always shaking by the time they got to Mike’s house, and they were cold to the touch as Mike wrapped his arms around each of them. “Wow, a year in Florida and you’re still as white as a sheet,” Max teased.

“Ten years in California and I could say the same about you,” he teased back with a smile. As he was hugging Lucas again, Will, Dustin, El, and her partner, Dylan, flooded in, swarming him in more hugs. It sort of took Mike’s breath away, the amount of genuine love he was receiving. He definitely got choked up, his voice barely working as he struggled to say his hellos and hold back tears at the same time. He hadn’t realized how long it had been since he’d been around so many people he actually loved. He thought El might’ve noticed, as she gave him one of her looks and held him a bit tighter and longer than normal. He blushed at how obvious he must’ve been, but then his feelings were rarely a mystery to El. It was actually very comforting, as El never pushed - just gave him a small smile that said everything, in a way so genuine and caring it made Mike want to cry even more.

It was so nice to be back together with all of his friends. They spent a while discussing Will’s new art exhibit, and Mike was happy to answer all of the questions his friends had about his new job. He even laughed at the “Houston, we have a problem” jokes Dustin kept making. It was also nice to talk about his job with people he loved who could largely understand what he was saying.

But it was weird without Richie. Dustin’s girlfriend had to stay in Colorado and Will’s boyfriend in New York, so it wasn’t like Mike was the only one without a hand to hold, but he’d grown so used to having Richie’s arms around him as they lounged on the floor together. He’d grown used to Richie’s voice bouncing off the walls of his basement, followed by a chorus of both laughter and groans. The banter Richie had always shared with Max was noticeably absent, and even though it had been something Mike had playfully complained about any time it happened, it left the room feeling somehow empty, the air a bit off. He missed the way Richie would press sporadic kisses to his hair, despite the fact that Mike complained ceaselessly about Richie’s affinity for PDA. He missed his hands and his jokes and his voice and the smiles the party members gave him. He loved Max and Lucas to death, and they were adorable, but he could barely look at them as the spiked egg nog brought them closer and closer to each other throughout the night. There were a few moments where they were cuddling and whispering and giggling together that Mike genuinely felt a bit nauseous. He blamed it on the egg nog. However, when he noticed the ring on El’s finger - which definitely hadn’t been there last year, or even in her last Instagram post - he knew it wasn’t just the alcohol or the dairy. He met El’s eye as he looked up and forced himself to smile when he saw that she was blushing and grinning at him. He raised an eyebrow at her, prompting her and Dylan to announce their engagement to the room. There were many cheers and shots of congratulations afterwards, Mike not excluded. He was ecstatic for them - they were great together. But with the alcohol running through his veins it was just a little too much to see the way Dylan looked at El, to see the look she returned to them. Once he’d hugged them both and offered his sincere congratulations, he snuck away to the kitchen, grateful to find that Karen, Nancy, and Holly had all gone upstairs.

He leaned on the sink and took a deep breath. His head swam a bit; he hadn’t realized how much he’d had to drink, and that last shot had him drunker than he had intended to get. He was so focused on steadying his breathing that he barely heard El come up behind him. “Hey,” she said softly with a gentle hand on his shoulder. Still, Mike jumped as he turned around.

“Hey,” he smiled back shakily. He took her hand in his and marveled at the ring on it. “This is beautiful, El. Dylan is super lucky.”

“I’m lucky too,” she smiled. But then her face got serious again, and she gripped Mike’s hand while caressing his face with the other. Mike’s bottom lip quivered at the contact; it had been so long since someone had touched him so tenderly. (The fact that it was his first love who now had a fiancé shook him even more, and the alcohol certainly wasn’t helping.) “How have you been?” The concern and openness in her voice nearly made him crumbled. He held her hand to his face and watched hers grow blurry.

“It’s hard,” he admitted in a shaky whisper. “I miss him.” At the first sign of a tear on his cheek El wrapped him in a tight embrace, allowing him to bury his face in his hair as he caught his breath. She didn’t say anything, and for that Mike was grateful - they both knew she didn’t have to say much. She said all she needed to by holding him: I’m sorry you’re going through this, but I’m right here. You’ll always have us. Maybe she was thinking other things, like maybe that he and Richie could work it out in the future, but if she was thinking them she thankfully didn’t voice them. She just held him until he pulled back and wiped the tears from his face. “I really am happy for you,” he told her. “You so deserve this.”

“I love you,” she smiled, running a hand through his hair once before holding both of his hands in her own.

“I love you, too,” he grinned. And even though the words were everything he needed to hear, and even though they were coming from one of his favorite people in the world, he still wished he could hear him saying it, wished that he was sitting down stairs with a drunk Richie wrapped around him whispering endless I love yous into his ear throughout the night. “I think I’m ready to go back down now,” he told her, letting her lead him downstairs. The thoughts didn’t subside, but they were easier to ignore when there were so many things going on in his friends’ lives for him to catch up on.

Everyone filed out around one-thirty, leaving Mike to turn out all of the lights and head up to his room alone. Normally he’d be leading a drunk Richie behind him, shushing him through poorly suppressed giggles. He’d have Richie’s mouth on his neck and his hands on his waist. Maybe before that they would’ve sprayed some whipped cream into each other’s mouths, trying and failing to stay quiet as they laughed at the innuendo. Then Richie would purposely get some on the corner of his mouth just so he could beg Mike to kiss it off. Mike remembered Richie deepening the kiss after that, every time, lifting him onto the counter and sliding his hands up his shirt until Mike stopped him, breathless, not wanting his mom or sisters to come down and find them. But that wasn’t happening tonight, maybe not ever again; it was like he was a ghost, though Mike knew rationally that he was only a phone call away, if he really needed him. Mike gripped the railing a little bit harder than necessary as he climbed up the stairs, willing himself not to cry now that he was alone with his thoughts. He made his way to his room quietly, hoping not to wake anybody as he closed the door. He walked over to his window, staring out of it onto his backyard. He smiled to himself; it was snowing.

He was about to change into his pajamas when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out, figuring Dustin must have left something behind. He froze when he saw the caller ID. Apparently he never got around to changing his contact picture, as an image of Richie pressing a kiss to Mike’s cheek was filling his screen. He answered, bringing the phone to his ear, his blood cold. “Hello?” he nearly whispered, afraid his voice might not even work.

There was a beat of silence. Then, for the first time in months, Richie’s voice. “Hey,” he said, almost surprised, as if Mike had called him. “I didn’t think you were gonna pick up.” Mike’s heart dropped.

“I’ll always pick up when you call.” He figured he could blame that on the alcohol in the morning, but he knew the rum really had nothing to do with the lump in his throat and the fact that his heart was racing a mile a minute.

“Mike,” Richie breathed, his voice desperate and strained. Mike bit his lip and closed his eyes; he’d missed Richie saying his name. “Fuck.”

“So what’s up?” Mike asked, his own voice cracking. “Why… why’d you call?”

“I miss you.” Mike gripped the windowsill.

“Are you drunk?”

“Tipsy.”

“Me too.” There was silence from the other end of the line for a moment. Richie started to say something, just like he always did, but Mike cut him off. “I miss you too.”

“You do?” Richie’s voice was so soft and so vulnerable. The snow became blurry before him.

“I miss you so much,” he said, letting out a soft sob. “Every day.”

“Baby,” Richie said, his voice like a blanket around Mike’s shoulders; he wanted to crawl into it, wanted to tuck his head under Richie’s chin and listen to his heartbeat, the way he always did when he was upset. The tone of Richie’s voice made Mike wish they had ended badly. He wished - so many times - that there had been a fight, that all of his fond memories of Richie could be countered with bad ones. But any bad memories were inconsequential, unconjurable. Mike could only remember the good, because they hadn’t ended badly. They never really fought about anything serious. They never went to bed angry. And the end had only been so painful because they were both still so in love with each other. “I wish I was there with you, too. I wish I could be there for you.” Mike sobbed quietly, unable to express how badly he needed that, how badly he needed Richie to hold him. He should be holding Mike right now, tucked safely under the covers of Mike’s childhood bed, singing soft Christmas songs in Mike’s ear, first funny pop ones and then soft, sentimental ones until Mike fell asleep. But he was thousands of miles away. “I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have called-”

“No,” Mike insisted, mindless of his volume for a minute. Bringing it back down, he said, “I’m glad you did. God, I fucking miss you so much. I wanna see you so bad. Everything is, is wrong without you.”

“Baby-”

“I wanna go back to New York,” Mike kept on, the tears freely flowing, his sniffles and hiccups interrupting his speech. “I wanna wake up next to you tomorrow morning. I wanna suffer through airport lines and airplane food with you. I wanna drink coffee with you and see whose presents are more tragically wrapped.” Richie gave a small, pained chuckle at that. “I miss all of it. I miss you.”

“Mike.” Richie didn’t cry often, but he sounded close to it. “I love you.” Mike didn’t realize he’d fallen to his knees until he was looking at the heater instead of the snow. The sound of that voice saying those words had him trembling.

“Say it again,” he whispered.

“Mike Wheeler, I love you so much,” Richie said, his voice swelled with something Mike couldn’t quite place. “I have not stopped loving you, not for a single day.”

“I never stopped loving you,” Mike said, his voice cracking again. “I love you so much, Richie. It’s so nice to hear your voice.”

“It’s nice to hear yours, too.” Mike could hear the small grin in his voice. “I needed to hear your voice. Kind of a… masochistic Christmas present to myself.”

“It doesn’t have to hurt,” Mike said. Richie stayed silent. “It doesn’t have to be like this.”

“Mike,” Richie started again, his voice tired and hurting.

“I could quit.”

“Mike.” His voice was much firmer now - still gentle, but Mike knew not to argue. “Why don’t you get some sleep, angel? If you’re feeling up to it tomorrow we can talk again. I’d love to hear your voice again. But right now I think you’re a little drunk and very tired, and I think you need to sleep.”

“Sleeping is so much harder without you.”

“Fuck, I know,” Richie agreed with a heavy sigh. “I miss holding you so bad. But we still have to sleep, okay? I don’t want you to exhaust yourself.” Mike nodded, even though Richie couldn’t see him. He didn’t know how he managed it, but Richie was one of few people who could tell Mike what to do and get results instead of punched.

“Okay,” he relented. “Do you promise to call me tomorrow?”

“If that’s still what you want.”

“Okay.”

“Merry Christmas, Wheelbarrow.” Mike smiled fondly at the old nickname.

“Merry Christmas, Richie.” And with that the line went dead.

He sat for a minute before getting up. He changed into pajamas and got into bed, wiping the salty tracks from his cheeks as best he could. In the time it took him to get into bed, Nancy had texted him twice.

Everything okay? 1:41 am.

Do you wanna talk about it? 1:42 am.

Maybe tomorrow, he sent back.

He settled into bed, emotionally drained but looking forward to talking to Richie again. He was extremely shaken, but it had also been really, really nice to hear Richie’s voice. He convinced himself that something might come of this talk. Deep down he knew it was unlikely that anything would change, but his tipsy and emotionally overwhelmed mind lulled him to sleep with overly optimistic assurances and fantasies. It was Christmas, after all, and he fell asleep exhausted but still high on the sound of Richie’s voice.

perma tag: @clouded-eyes-and-salty-tears @reddie4thesinbin @deadlighturis @constantreaderfool @reddieloserz @jessicaheartsderry @vegetarian-avocado @tinyarmedtrex @sml1104 @chocolatemangoose @reddie-for-anything

#wheelzier #wheelzier angst #wholesome mileven friendship bc i love them sm

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yuniesan · 5 years

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Rucas Holiday Bingo - Surprises in Santa Land

This is for the Work as an Elf Square on the Holiday Bingo Card

A/N: Everyone gets to visit Santa when they’re growing up, well if your faith allows it, usually you see those mall Santa’s on TV, but here in NYC we have Santaland which is at Macy’s. I mean there’s still mall Santa’s but the Macy’s one is the one everyone tries to go to because it’s one of those traditions you have to have growing up. Also, I worked there, and while it is magical when you’re there, when you work there you get a crash course in Holiday retail, and it’s a nightmare I swear.

Also, it started snowing just as I finished writing this.... so the snow is blessing our favorite couple!!!

Surprises in Santa Land

Riley could always remember the day when she knew that December would be the greatest month ever. She had been six years old, and her parents had taken her to the mall to see Santa while they were visiting her grandparents, everything felt magical. When she was eight they took her to see Santa on her birthday, so that she could ask for two presents, one for her birthday and one for Christmas.

That was the first time they had taken her to see Santa at Macy’s, she had asked them why she couldn’t see him when he was at the store since they lived closer, and why she always had to go with Josh when they were in Philly. Auggie had been a year old at the time, and her parents had wanted to find a way to fulfill Riley’s wish. So as a family they had gone for the first time, getting on the long line to see Santa. When they walked through the maze Riley had seen nothing but magic all around them, the music, the little town displayed next to them, and at the end Santa’s Village with elves walking around.

December had always had this magic touch for her, the moment the month arrived, she would jump for joy and decorate her room with every ornament she could find. Her parents had found it quirky, and her friends weren’t the most supportive because of her love of things like Secret Santa, but it didn’t matter to her because there was nothing that could get her down when December came along.

She had gone through high school with her traditions and had wanted to keep them for college, as all of her friends scattered, Riley off to NYU, Lucas off to one of the CUNY schools, Maya at the New School, Farkle and Smackle at Princeton, and surprisingly at NYU Zay with Riley. Josh had graduated, but had stayed in the city, his relationship with Maya finally getting to where they had always wanted it to be, the long game finally over, because if Riley had wanted one thing to stop it would be the pining between the two of them.

The fourth year of school, Riley had decided to get a job at Macy’s, she wanted to buy something for Lucas for the holidays and it was a little on the expensive side for her because she didn’t really have money. Even with internships and work study, all of her money went into saving up, because she was never sure if she would have enough money after she graduated and moved out of her parents’ house. The job was as an elf at Santaland, the magical place from her childhood, and she couldn’t have been happier because it was like living a childhood dream. They paid their employees very well and even allowed them to walk the parade which made the whole experience worth a million dollars to her. She had finished the semester only working three days a week, but once she was done they had allowed her to work more hours as the crowds started coming in.

“Welcome,” she would say to everyone as she greeted them into the maze, where they would wait.

Her family and friends hadn’t known that she was there, and she was glad for it too, they only knew that she had taken a holiday job, because she couldn’t babysit her brother anymore, since her was old enough to take care of himself. She always worked crowd control for some reason, but it hadn’t mattered to her as long as she saw the excited faces on the little kids. It reminded her of when she was little and going to see Santa, but she had realized that she hadn’t seen Santa that year and she really wanted to, even as an elf, because it would be a memory she would treasure.

The last day, which was also the shortest day they had to work, was actually the hardest for Riley, the line was longer than usual, and people were irritating her for some reason. She hadn’t seen her friends in weeks, as Josh had taken Maya to Philly, because he was going to propose there while they spent the holiday with Riley’s grandparents, Farkle and Smackle had gone off to Alaska, because they had wanted to study something, Zay was in Texas baking with his grandmother, and she didn’t even know where Lucas was at all. It was the first time that they hadn’t done Secret Santa, which made her melancholy, and the people waiting to see Santa himself had resorted to trashing the place as they went along, not caring about the magic of the place at all.

Each time she had to change her station she had found something that shouldn’t have been where it was, one of which was a used diaper, which she thought was gross, she had to pick it up and put it somewhere else. Again gross. The magic of the holiday was fading, and she didn’t like losing that part of herself, but she also wanted it to be done because some people didn’t believe in boundaries if they were leaving their trash all over the place, not caring about the place they were visiting.

So, when the last person had walked through leaving Riley alone dressed as the saddest elf in the place, she sighed and started cleaning up everything around her just like she had done every night since she had started working there. Her co-workers rushing around, excited to be going home for the holiday, while she was still sad about not having the chance to spend it with her friends and family.

“Hey Riley,” one of her co-workers said to her as she walked by. “The boss wants to see you in the village, she said you were the only one who hasn’t taken a picture with the big guy.”

“Yeah well,” she said looking around, the place was clean, but she still wanted to find a way to get her spirits up, she loved Christmas. “I guess I was busy, but I’ll be there in a minute.”

Riley wanted to smile, she didn’t want to have her moment with Santa, her wish to be tainted by the way others acted, or by the fact that she missed her friends. So, she took several breaths, watching as the little train made its final journey for the year, before walking to the end of the maze where Santa’s village stood with its little houses and the north pole candy cane at the center. She was going to smile for her picture, and then she would go home and treasure it for the rest of her life.

When she got there, she looked up to where the candy cane stood and came face to face with Lucas for the first time in what had felt like a million years. He was smiling, wearing her favorite blue sweater of his and a pair of black jeans, contrasting with the red, white and green of the village. He was smiling at her, and she could feel her heart speed up as he did so, because he looked gorgeous and she looked like a haggard little elf.

“Hey,” she said to him smiling for real for the first time that day.

“Hi,” he said which strangely had always been her words, and now it was weird that it was backwards, but it still felt right.

“Hey,” she said walking towards him, reaching out to take his hand, and smiling.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he said after a moment. “We’ve all been so busy lately, and I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but all of our friends abandoned us.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” she said, no bitterness in her voice, because Lucas being there made up for everything bad that had happened during the day.

“I asked your boss for permission to come here today, so that I could surprise you, and take you to dinner, but I think maybe you might just want to go home Riles, because you look a little tired.”

“Not anymore, not since I saw you,” she could feel her face flush, he would always have that effect on her, especially when he surprised her like this.

“Well, I had two reasons to be here today,” he said smiling as his ears turned red, she had noticed it when they had first started going out, how when he was embarrassed or blushing, it would show on his ears first. It was cute, and she loved it the most, when they cuddled she would always nuzzle up to his ears, and he had started putting cologne there too, which made her want to stay close to him all of the time.

“Other than seeing me dressed like this?” she gestured to her outfit with a goofy grin, all of a sudden feeling the magic of the holiday coming back.

“Yeah,” he answered with his own grin. “The first was to surprise you with dinner, and the second was to well,” he got down on his knee and took her hand. “Riley Matthews, you’ve been the sun in my life for almost ten years now, and while we’ve had some ups and downs over the years, we’ve always come back to one another. You’re my soulmate, my better half, the love of my life, and I want to spend the next hundred million years being with you,” he pulled out a small ring, it looked like the one she had seen at a vintage store a few months before, when they had been on a date, and had decided to walk around. “Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

It was there in that moment, while she was dressed as an elf, surrounded by Santa’s Village, where she remembered why she loved Christmas so much. It was because of the people she had always been with, her friends, her family, and most of all the man kneeling in front of her.

“Yes Lucas, I will be glad to spend the rest of my life with you, and even when we turn to stardust, I will still be there right next to you.”

With a grin, he stood up and put the ring on her finger before pulling her close and kissing her, the grin still on both of their faces, the cheers of the people around them. In the most Christmas place in the world, because there was a magic in the holiday, one that she had always known, and almost lost, only to find it again.

When they pulled away, Riley was surrounded not only by her coworkers, but her friends and family who had been hiding without her knowing. Lucas having planned the perfect proposal after all, even having everyone tell her that they would be somewhere else. Mainly because none of them would have been able to keep the secret, especially with how her father had been for so long, and who had currently faked a heart attack. Which meant that he hadn’t known about the proposal, and it made her laugh out loud when she saw him, before she gave Lucas another kiss, taking his hand and bring him to Santa’s house, because she wanted a picture of the moment so she could remember it for the rest of her life.

#RucasHolidayBingo2018 #rucas #rucas fanfic #rucas fanfiction #short and fluffy

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violetandstarlightgirl · 5 years

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My Favorite Songs I Discovered in 2018

With the year wrapping up, I thought I’d do what I did last year and make a list of my favorite songs that I discovered this year. I have found more favorite songs both from new artists and old favorites (you will see some repeats of artists this year!) Click here to see the 2017 list!

I will do what I did last year and explain how I found these songs and the reasons for these songs resonating with me the way they do.

Riches and Wonders by The Mountain Goats (All Hail West Texas, 2002)

At the start of the year, I started listening to a podcast called “I Only Listen To The Mountain Goats”, which was made by Joseph Fink (creator of Welcome To Night Vale) and John Darnielle (the singer and creator of the band), where they talked about the songs from the album “All Hail West Texas”, discussing the themes and inspirations for the songs and how they tied to both of their lives. They even had guest artists such as Dessa and Eliza Rickman perform covers of the songs!

The album is now one of my favorites, and Riches and Wonders is probably my favorite song overall. Around February, I began a relationship for the first time in a few years, and this song reminded me of how it felt to be in love. Even listening to the song today (after the relationship ended in June) I still have that feeling. The memories of just spending time with someone you’re in love with still bring me joy, even when I’m no longer romantically involved with that person.

Disrobed by Griffin McElroy (The Eleventh Hour, 2016)

The Adventure Zone more or less took over my fandom interests by the time I concluded Petals to the Metal in January. This arc, coincidentally, happens to be where Griffin began to incorporate sound effects and his own music. My favorite song from Griffin, though, is from my favorite Balance arc; The Eleventh Hour.

It was a tough choice, but I feel this song has the most meaning for me (with the exception of the Voidfish Duet). It appears in different varieties throughout the Balance campaign after The Eleventh Hour, it’s a major piece from that point on that’s used in so many vital moments (the conclusion of The Suffering Game and the “She Rises” sequence from Story and Song stand out to me in particular). To think that Griffin only started playing with Garage-band a year prior to releasing this album blows me away. Since then nearly every single one of his songs (at least the ones that aren’t a goof) have been masterpieces, and even the goofy ones still have some merit and charm!

Late Night by Typical (Late Night, 2018)

I actually found this as a copyright-free song used in a speed-edit. I enjoy a lot of these kind of songs; most of the copyright-free ones available are of the electronic variety and most of the time I love them a lot. Late Night was no exception.

I mostly wanted to use it for my own speedpaint (which I eventually did) but I loved listening to it throughout my day since it was such a bright and upbeat song. I associated it with going out to be with friends during the summer, or just having fun in general. I feel like that in itself is the vibe this song emits; spending a “late night” out doing things that make you happy.

Signs by Sangam & Bruised Skies (Signs, 2012)

Sometimes I listen to mixes of a bunch of songs through together, and one of my favorite YouTube channels that releases these mixes is MrSuicideSheep, also known as Sheepy. This song in particular was part of their second “Dawn” ambient mix, and it’s one of my favorites from the mix.

It’s a very quiet piece, but it takes me to a still morning relaxing in the middle of a storm. You can even hear the rain and thunder as though it’s taking place outside of where you sit. It’s a nice song to listen to during a quiet time, and I feel very peaceful when I listen to it. I’ll often have it on repeat for long stretches of time when I’m working on something or waking up in the morning.

Jenny by Erin McKeown (Jenny, 2017)

As mentioned earlier, thanks to the podcast from John Darnielle and Joseph Fink, I have fallen head-over-heels for the All Hail West Texas album. What I didn’t mention was how amazing almost all of the covers were; in most cases they all added something new and fun to the originals, and Erin McKeown’s cover of Jenny is an example.

The use of cello and electric bass gives me the actual imagery of speeding down a desert road at sunset. This is not to say the original version is bad, but I get the imagery of that adventure better with this version of the song. I can almost feel the hot desert air whip through my hair, and enjoy listening to this while I drive!

Dark Solstice by God Is An Astronaut (A Moment of Stillness, 2006)

I discovered God Is An Astronaut through Welcome To Night Vale; Endless Dream was the “weather” for one of the episodes, and it is my favorite song from the group overall, but I also really love Dark Solstice which I discovered this year when I finally sat down and listened to the whole album.

When I listen to this song, I think of a long drive through a snow-covered field and seeking refuge in a small but cozy winter cabin. The sky gets darker as the day concludes, there are only a few trees and the landscape is still. It’s that strange serenity that comes from the stillness of winter, and I feel like this song captures that perfectly. While the song isn’t necessarily quiet all the way through (none of the group’s songs are, in my experience), the rhythm is still soothing and has that “coming home” feel.

Boy & Bear by Pogo (Ascend, 2018)

I remember stumbling on one of Pogo’s videos in 2010, and being pleasantly surprised by the music he made by remixing the sounds from movies. I didn’t listen to a lot of it, but I enjoyed the things that I found. Boy & Bear is a mix of my favorite Winnie the Pooh movie from my childhood; The Search for Christopher Robin.

The song reminds me of how much that movie meant to me as a kid, and I listening to all the songs from the movie mixed into the song gave me the nostalgic feel as though I was re-experiencing the entire movie experience again for the first time in years.

Journey by Michael Salvatori and The Kronos Quartet (Destiny 2 Original Soundtrack, 2018)

In 2014, my dad played a lot of the first Destiny game after buying a PS4, and bought and played the sequel that came out this year. I played a little bit of the first game, and only got the second game after receiving a free download from Blizzard.

This song plays for the first time after reuniting with your Ghost after being disconnected from the Light that gives your character their powers. For the first two minutes of the song, it captures that melancholy feeling of loss and grief beautifully. Then the drums and choir kick in and you’re filled with determination and hope for the future. It was this part of the game that made me fall for it so hard, and actually enjoy it more than the first, and all thanks to this song!

#fun moosic #my random life #i talk about music for a long time #also a video game #and d&d #long post sorry

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shelleyseale · 5 years

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12 Days of Giving: The Gift of Nature Through the Japanese Art of Forest Bathing

This is the first in our special "12 Days of Giving" series running for the holiday season. It's a little different from what you might think of as traditional presents or giving. We aren't really talking about stuff you buy or a gift list. Rather, on these 12 days, we will be talking about different gifts that you can give to yourself, or others — gifts that have a deeper meaning, that can help you live with intention, be happier, be healthier. Soul gifts, you might even call them. Join us on the journey. The Gift of Nature: Connecting with the Natural World Through the Japanese Art of Forest Bathing

It's that moment when you step away from the man-made world and into the natural one, that your senses seem to heighten, your body's stress levels lower, and your mind's always-churning to-do list begins to quiet. Whether it's a five-minute walk through your local park or sit in your own backyard, a miles-long hike in a forest, or a multi-day or week camping trip: there's always that sense of peace. Relaxation. Of coming home. This, my friends, is what we were born into — the natural world. This is where we originated from, and where we are meant to be. Our ancestors had no skyscrapers, cars, shopping malls, computers. They were fully engaged with nature for everything: their food, medicine, homes, livelihood and very existence. But for most of us living in today's busy, modern society, that world seems all too far away most of the time. And so we become more and more disconnected. More harried and stressed. More tied to technology, until we're unsure if we own our devices or if they own us. There's always something else to do, to think about, somewhere else to go, another mission to accomplish. But sometimes, we need to just slow down. Don't get me wrong here — I'm no hard-core outdoors type of person. Don't think I'm coming to you as one of those bad-asses who runs marathons or wild camps in the remote wilderness. My idea of camping firmly includes hot, running water, a comfortable sleeping spot, and wine. At the same time, I connect with nature at a primal level, and on a regular basis. We all do. But if you're anything like me, it's not nearly enough. You may sometimes wonder, like I do, how we can more easily disconnect for an hour, even, and let the healing, calming force of nature root us down again.

Welcome to shinrin-yoku, a Japanese tradition that is loosely defined as "forest bathing." I was introduced to this concept a couple of weeks ago — I had never heard the term before. What is this forest bathing, I wondered. Is it some kind of weird ritual where I have to go in the woods and jump in a river or unclothe and roll around in the grass or something? It sounded a little hippy-dippy, to be honest — but I'm kind of a granola, hippy-dippy kinda girl and always interested to learn something new. So, I was intrigued. Shinrin-yoku, forest bathing, as it turns out is simply this: a full sensory immersion in the beauty and wonder of nature.

It's experiencing nature with all your senses — not just seeing it, or touching it as you walk through it, but hearing it, smelling it, even tasting it. A raindrop on your tongue. The way a stream sounds as it gurgles over the rocks beside you. That hint of pine in the air as you enter a stand of conifer trees. It's letting nature wash over you. Rooted in the ancient Japanese reverence for nature, the practice of shinrin-yoku was started in Japan in the early 1980s, as a program to try and get the overworked citizens of Tokyo and other large cities to leave the urban areas for short periods of time, to spend some quiet, healing time in a nearby forest. Today, there are many designated shinrin-yoku forest and trails throughout Japan, and hundreds of thousands of people immerse themselves in them each year — taking advantage of the way nature restores mental equilibrium and physical health.

Melanie Choukas-Bradley I learned all of this from Melanie Choukas-Bradley, a Certified Nature and Forest Therapy Guide. Based out of Washington, D.C., Melanie has traveled throughout Japan participating in forest bathing walks led by shinrin-yoku guides; and she's the author of The Joy of Forest Bathing: Reconnect With Wild Places & Rejuvenate Your Life. I was invited on a forest bathing walk led by her, taking place at YMCA's Camp Moody in Buda, Texas, just south of where I live in Austin. I arrived at Camp Moody that morning with an eagerness to learn more about this practice, connect with nature and explore something new. Melanie, who had what she calls a "free-range childhood," writes in her book that most of us have very early, strong memories of experiences with nature. For her, it was the first time she saw a perfect snowflake. I was walking home from school on a path through the woods when a single snow crystal landed on a flat, dark rock in front of me. I knelt down and watched more snowflakes fall from the sky and land on the rock, each one perfect, each one unique, but perhaps none as perfect as the first. The dream-like quality of the snowflake memory is much like my other childhood memories of nature enchantment: finding the first woodland wildflowers just after snow melt in the spring; lying on a bed of moss and looking up into the leafy branches of a white birch tree; diving into a cold ocean wave and then burying myself in the warm sand. Childhood nature memories can easily be called up by a specific fragrance, a sound, a sight, or a general feeling of well-being. Melanie was there to greet our small group of about eight at the main pavilion of the camp, which is pretty much undeveloped land right now — seeming to make it a perfect location for forest bathing. Camp Moody is an 85-acre multi-use site for day and overnight camps, group events, retreats and outdoor education. Nestled along Onion Creek and scenic limestone bluffs, the YMCA has big plans for some really cool development of the property that was donated by George Yonge in 1999, which includes cabins, dining and recreational facilities to fit in with the natural world around it.

Photo courtesy of YMCA Camp Moody Megan Arnold with the YMCA said that the goal of Camp Moody is to connect families to nature. "With kids being connected to technology about seven-and-a-half hours per day, we're raising a generation that isn't connected to nature," she said. "They might not care about preservation, our national parks, etc. We want to change that." In keeping with the Y mission, they are also making sure Camp Moody is accessible to all, financially, geographically and physical ability-wise.

Before we began the walk, Melanie set our expectations. "This isn't going to be a vigorous, aerobic 'hike,'" she said. "It isn't goal-oriented; the point is to go slow, to take it all in, to be aware of the surroundings and discover the nature around us." What she was saying reminded me of what John Muir said about hiking: "I don't like either the word or the thing. People ought to saunter in the mountains - not hike! Do you know the origin of that word 'saunter?' It's a beautiful word. Away back in the Middle Ages people used to go on pilgrimages to the Holy Land, and when people in the villages through which they passed asked where they were going, they would reply, 'A la sainte terre — To the Holy Land.' And so they became known as sainte-terre-ers, or saunterers. Now these mountains are our Holy Land, and we ought to saunter through them reverently, not 'hike' through them." ~John Muir And so we set out on our "saunter" — or rather, our forest bathing, a notion that I suspect that John Muir would have liked a great deal. Melanie invited us to walk in silence, to just enjoy the peace of nature and use all our sense to take it in as we moved through it. After a few minutes we reached the banks of a gurgling creek and paused for the first of her invitations. As we moved along our walk through nature, Melanie would issue an invitation for us to choose to take or leave. Listen to what you hear; notice what is moving around you; choose something that speaks to you. Every so often we would stop, and each person could share with the group if they so chose. At one spot down by a small running stream, we took a longer pause to find our own little spot and spend silent time immersing ourselves in the forest. The water running over the rocks was so soothing, and already — after less than half an hour in nature — I was feeling gloriously, refreshingly disconnected from the outside world. It would all still be waiting for me when I got back to it. so there was no need to do anything except be fully present in this moment. To enjoy the feeling of being once again primally connected to the earth and where we came from, and away from the hustle-and-bustle of modern life. I listened to the water, breathed in the clear air deeply, and became intrigued with a fuzzy caterpillar making its way over leaf by leaf in the little stream. Melanie had told us a little about the mountains of research that has shown what a real, measurable positive effect time spent in nature has on us. It's been proven to lower our blood pressure, pulse rates and cortisol levels; increase heart rate variability (this is a good thing!); and improve mood. As her book on forest bathing says, plants generate compounds called phytoncides to protect themselves from pathogens, and when we are in nature, these same airborne phytoncides that we breath in may even help protect our human bodies in ways that could increase our immunity to things like cancer and other diseases. The physical, mental and emotional health benefits of time spent in nature have been corroborated by researchers in North America, the U.K., Europe, China and South Korea. I believed it. I felt it. As our walk came to an end, we gathered in a clearing to enjoy a tea ceremony, and one of our group read the very appropriate poem, Wild Geese, by Mary Oliver. You can start your own forest bathing practice in your own adopted “wild home,” encompassed in three steps: 1. Disengagement from your daily routine 2. Deep breathing and nature connection through a series of quiet activities or “invitations” 3. Transitioning back to your daily life This restorative activity can be enjoyed by people of all ages and abilities: children, teenagers, and even senior citizens with limited mobility and people recovering from illness and surgery. And you don’t need to travel to the Japanese alps to experience the benefits of forest bathing. All you need is a small patch of untouched (or lightly touched) nature to adopt as your “wild home.”

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#forest #forestbathing #health #hiking #nature #nurture #shinrin-yoku #walking #wellness

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nowwhateinstein · 6 years

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Land of Endless Sky: ch 2

Intro & Prologue Chapter 1

++++++ Chapter 2

General, I respectfully address you on the matter regarding my continued service under your command. Events have transpired which have caused me to question my fitness and willingness to serve in my current capacity as Captain of Company “K” Second Dragoons. I herewith tender my resignation of my commission, to take effect immediately and unconditionally.

Very respectfully, Fox William Mulder Capt. Co. “K” 2d Dragoons U.S.A. June 16th, 1856

++++++ FORT KEARNY NEBRASKA TERRITORY

The sun beat down oppressively as Mulder passed through the gates of Kearny’s stockade and into the small, dusty town that had grown up in the shadow of the fort. He pushed open the door to Frohike’s Fine Goods and Provisions and entered the blessed shade and coolness of the shop.

From behind the counter, the balding, diminutive proprietor looked up from a months-old, yellowed issue of Harper’s Weekly. He squinted at Mulder through half-moon eyeglasses. “That you, Captain Mulder?”

“Yes, but not for much longer, Melvin. In two days’ time, I’ll be plain old ‘Mulder.’”

“Had enough of the frontier life, have you?” Frohike asked teasingly. “Miss the luxuries of a soft feather bed and a woman to keep you warm at night?”

“If I did, I’d have married you years ago.” It was a well-known secret that Frohike’s personal quarters at the back of the store was furnished with every modern comfort and luxury - all of it financed by the exorbitant prices he charged unwitting emigrants and spendthrift soldiers.

Frohike rolled his eyes at Mulder’s good-natured ribbing.

“Truthfully, Melvin,” Mulder said, his tone becoming serious, “I resigned my commission.”

Frohike’s face turned grave. “I heard about Ash Hollow. Can’t say much about them who would slaughter women and children, Indian or not. You’re a good man, Mulder. I’m sorry to see you leave like this.”

“As am I,” Mulder said, smiling sadly at the man who had become the closest thing he had to a friend during his time at the fort. “I’m in need of provisions. And,” he said, remembering the state of his civilian clothes, “some new attire.” What spare clothes he did have were moth-eaten and too large for him; years of living off Army rations and bison had made him leaner than when he’d first arrived from the East.

“If there’s anything I enjoy more than your company, Mulder, it’s your money,” Frohike said, jumping from his perch behind the counter and walking over to the small selection of shirts and trousers.

“Heading back East, I assume? Take up the family business?”

“No,” Mulder said, trying banish the image of his father, and the disappointed look on his face when Mulder told him he was entering West Point to earn an Army commission. He’d wanted Mulder to practice law, like he had. But the war with Mexico had captured young Mulder’s imagination, and he entertained boyish daydreams of earning glory on the battlefield. So he’d applied to the United States Military Academy. Never did he imagine that glory could be so one-sided and bloody.

His pause earned an inquisitive look from Frohike.

“I’m headed west,” Mulder went on to explain. “Maybe California. Or New Mexico. Anywhere but here.”

“Well, you picked a hell of a time to leave,” Frohike said. “Most of the emigrant trains passed through here a month ago.”

As he spoke, a lone cart with a team of four oxen passed in front of the store window. “As I was saying,” Frohike said, watching them go by with a frown, “most of them. Those folks will be lucky to make Fort Bridger by the first big snow.”

“I can make good time just myself and Ghost. If I need to lay by at Bridger or some other outpost for the winter, so be it. I’m in no hurry to get there - wherever there is.”

He handed Frohike a list of his requests. The older man nodded approvingly as he scanned the items. “I’ll have everything ready for you by this time tomorrow.”

Frohike quickly held up a hand. “Just a moment,” he said, then reached behind the counter and produced a small, bulging burlap sack. “A parting gift,” he said as he handed it to Mulder. He looked inside, and smiled at the sight of sunflower seeds.

“My thanks, as always, Melvin,” he said, and shook the man’s hand fondly.

Mulder stepped outside into the oppressive June heat as a small woman in a bonnet arrived in front of the shop. He quickly moved to open the door for her.

“Thank you,” she said, glancing up at him as she passed. Intelligent blue eyes met his. Mud and dust clung to the hem of her pale green dress, and her shoes bore evidence of miles of travel. Despite her well-worn attire, he found her remarkably beautiful and strangely familiar, and had to make a conscious effort to avoid staring longer than was appropriate.

He touched his hat in greeting. “Ma’am.”

She nodded politely, then disappeared into Frohike’s. Must be from that lone wagon party, he thought, glancing up the street. Sure enough, the wagon stood in the shade of the livery stable. The oxen stood unharnessed, taking long draws from the water trough. Frohike was right, he thought - at this rate, they would be hard-pressed to catch up with the mass of wagon trains.

++++++

He set out at first light two days later on the dusty, wheel-rutted road that led westward. The sparse, overgrazed vegetation that surrounded the fort presently gave way to a lush, waving sea of waist-high prairie grass. Above him, swallows swooped and dove in the mid-morning sun in search of insects. Their intricate acrobatics and constant twittering provided a welcome diversion from the images of dead Sioux that plagued his dreams and lingered increasingly into his waking hours. He felt his heart grow lighter with every mile he put between him and the fort. He even started singing one of his favorite tunes:

“I'm lonesome since I crossed the hill And over the moor that's sedgy Such lonely thoughts my heart do fill Since parting with my Sally I seek for one as fair and gay But find none to remind me How sweet the hours I passed away With the girl I left behind me”

Ghost snorted in agitation at his rider’s crooning. Mulder laughed and patted his neck affectionately.

“You’re right, boy. I can’t carry a tune. And I don’t even have a girl.”

He did, once. He’d fallen for the beautiful Diana Fowley when he was a cadet at West Point. The war with Mexico had raised the prestige of the Army in the eyes of the nation, and it became fashionable for a woman to be seen on the arm of a dashing young cadet. But the war ended, and when it became clear that she’d have to trade the comfort of New York City for the privations of the frontier, Diana had called off the engagement. She’d only loved him for his uniform, he’d realized too late, and the attention it afforded her within New York society.

And so, with a broken heart and a feeling of having played the fool, Mulder accepted his commission as a Second Lieutenant with the Second Dragoons and set off for the borderlands of the newly formed Republic of Texas. The pain of Diana’s rejection had eased with the change of scenery and the passage of time. He soon realized that the frontier held more opportunities for a man to avail himself of a woman’s pleasures than were afforded a young man among the New York elite. The forts had their fair share of women with questionable morals who were ready to bed any soldier with coin, but his infrequent encounters with such women always left him feeling empty and miserable, and soon he’d stopped visiting brothels altogether.

But if one had to feel empty, the Plains were a fitting place in which to find oneself, he’d discovered as the years went on. In his early days with the regiment, he’d developed a reputation as a loner, often volunteering to go out on solo patrols for weeks at a time. He could ride for days without seeing another soul, and that suited him just fine. Promotion through the ranks had decreased his opportunity to roam, and he found the responsibilities of an officer dull and tiresome. Out among the vast grasslands and rolling hills, he had found solitude, not loneliness; solace instead of restlessness. Now that he was free of the constraints of Army life, he prayed that freedom would be enough to exorcise the demons of Ash Hollow.

After a hurried midday meal taken under the slight shade of an eroded hillside, Mulder set Ghost back on the trail. He’d glance down at the trail every now and again to try to decipher the signs of those who had passed before him. Newer wheel tracks and fresh ox dung told him that a wagon had passed by not long ago. Probably the same party that had stopped over at the fort a few days prior. What’s more, he noticed, leaning over in his saddle for a better look, riders - three, perhaps four - had also used the trail after the wagon. The tell-tale U-shaped prints told him that the riders were white; Indians didn’t shod their horses, instead switching out mounts so as not to tire or injure them.

After a few miles, he crested a hill. What he saw on the other side caused him to immediately drew up on the reins to bring Ghost to a halt. He jumped down and pulled Ghost back down the hill until he was out of sight, then drawing his revolver, slowly crawled back to the top.

At the foot of the hill on the other side stood the wagon he’d seen pass through the fort; its contents were scattered on the ground nearby. The four oxen, still yoked, lay dead. He could detect no movement, no other signs of life. Carefully, he made his way down the hill to cart, using the tall grass as cover until he reached the cart. Mulder noticed arrows scattered about the ground, but curiously, they all faced in different directions, as if someone had haphazardly tossed a quiverfull up in the air and let them fall. Even odder: the oxen had all been shot by a small caliber pistol - not the firearm of choice by Plains Tribes, who much preferred rifles.

It took him a moment to notice the two bodies amid the tall grass. A bald, older man lay beside a younger, pimple-faced boy. Both had been shot and both, he saw with a sickening twist in his stomach, had been scalped. Whoever had done the scalping had botched it on the older man; his scalp was still partially attached to his skull. With rising dread, he frantically looked about for the woman he knew belonged to the the party - the woman with whom he briefly exchanged courtesies outside of Frohike’s.

As if in reply, a woman’s scream shattered the expansive stillness of the prairie. Mulder drew his revolver and sprinted down a small ravine in the direction of the scream.

Two men stood close together, laughing and cheering as they watched a third man struggling with something on the ground. The men were shirtless, their faces and chests painted in red and black paint. At first, Mulder took them for Indians, then one of them spoke.

“Come here and hold her down,” the man on the ground yelled in English. “She’s a feisty one.”

Mulder stiffened at the familiar voice of Sergeant Krycek. He squinted at the other men; beneath the copious red and black face paint, he recognized Private Colton and Corporal Kersh. Like Krycek, the two men had a poor reputation among the Kearney detachment: he recalled Colton had once been confined to quarters on bread and water rations for a month for attempting to steal a milk cow from an emigrant family passing through the fort.

“As long as you leave some of her for me,” Colton answered with a leer. He bent down and grabbed the woman’s arms, pulling them roughly above her head. Krycek paused to unbutton his trousers, leaving just enough opportunity for the woman to deliver a well-placed kick to his face; he fell hard on his ass, raising a laugh from Colton and the other soldier.

“Bitch!” he said, spitting out a mouthful of blood and stumbling to his feet. “You’ll wish I killed you with your father and brother, before I’m done with you.”

Krycek had barely taken a step forward before Mulder fired. The sergeant’s stomach suddenly blossomed crimson, and he staggered backwards before dropping to the ground.

Colton let go of the woman and whirled to face Mulder, his gun drawn. Kersh managed to get a shot off at Mulder; he winced at the sudden, searing pain in his left arm.

Before Kersh could fire again, another shot rang out, and he collapsed. Colton, confused, glanced down at the corporal. That bought Mulder just enough time to take aim at Colton. He fired. The private fell on top of Kersh.

Mulder ran over to the woman. She lay shaking, gasping on the ground. In her hands was Krycek’s revolver. Smoke curled upwards from the barrel. He helped her to her feet. She stared, shocked, at the weapon, then at the men who lay dead at her feet.

Before either could speak, a groan caused Mulder to turn away. Krycek was still alive; his breathing came in ragged gasps as he lay on the ground nearby, grasping at his bleeding stomach. Mulder stood over him. Krycek’s eyes focused on him and widened in recognition.

“Please, Captain, have mercy,” he said weakly between bloody coughs. “Have mercy.”

He was a dead man - it was only a matter of time before he succumbed to blood loss. But a gunshot wound to the stomach was painful, and often resulted in a slow death; anger rose within Mulder at all of the needless suffering and death this man had inflicted. He wanted to walk away and leave Krycek to a prolonged, agonizing demise.

Instead, Mulder pointed his gun at the sergeant. “The only mercy you’ll get from me is a quick death,” he said, his voice iron-edged, as he cocked the hammer with his thumb. Krycek whimpered. The air reverberated with the sharp crack of his Colt.

He holstered his gun and walked back to where the woman stood. Wordlessly, he took the revolver from her. She swayed, as if about to faint. He put a hand out to steady her. “Easy does it, ma’am.”

She didn’t fall, but instead took his hand in a tight, vice-like grip. He squeezed back, causing her to look up at him. Her eyes registered shock, surprise - and fear.

“It’s alright, ma’am,” he said gently. “You’re safe.”

Her eyes focused on him as if truly seeing him for the first time. She took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself. He felt her hand slip from his.

“I must bury my father and brother,” she said, composing herself. Her face, although tear-stained and smeared with dirt, was set with a firmness and resolve that surprised him.

“Allow me to pay my respects by assisting you,” he said.

She hesitated, as if unsure whether to trust him, but presently gave brief nod of assent. Without speaking, she turned and headed in the direction of the cart and her dead kin.

Mulder picked up the dead men’s weapons and followed. Behind them, the shirtless, painted bodies of the soldiers lay staring upwards at the expansive sky.

#land of endless sky #work in progress #my fic #xf fic #txf fanfic #msr fanfic #historical au

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nancydhooper · 3 years

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Behind Closed Doors: The Traumas of Domestic Work in the U.S.

Like other essential workers, domestic workers are bearing the brunt of the COVID-19 pandemic without the luxury of being able to telework, social distance, or even take a sick day. They also face unique and challenging circumstances due to the nature of their work, which is undervalued and under-regulated by the U.S. government. As a result, domestic workers often endure horrific abuses that go unchecked. Many are brought to the U.S. by employers promising a better life, only to find themselves subjected to forced labor, denied wages, and threatened with deportation.

Today, the ACLU joins a coalition of workers’ rights organizations calling on the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights to acknowledge and address the U.S. government’s failure to protect the rights of domestic workers. These workers are overwhelmingly women of color and/or migrants, and include house cleaners, nannies, caregivers, and others who work out of public view and in their employers’ homes. Below, four domestic workers explain in their own words the all too common abuses that continue unheeded because of the government’s failure to act.

FAINESS

My trafficker was a Malawian diplomat to the U.S. I had known her for years back home in Malawi, where I worked for her as a nanny before coming here. When she was stationed in D.C., she asked me to come with her, promising better opportunities — I could get an education, get a better job, get out and see the world. As a young person, what else could you want? She gave me a contract and travel documents and rushed me to sign them even though I could not speak or understand English at the time. After I was granted an A3 visa, which is a special visa for diplomats’ domestic workers, we left for the U.S., where we moved into a home in a beautiful neighborhood in Silver Spring, Maryland.

Everything changed when we got to the U.S. My trafficker was no longer the person I knew in Malawi — she turned into a tiger. She forced me to work more than 16 hours per day for less than 40 cents per hour, cooking and cleaning and doing laundry, even ironing the family’s underwear. Who does that?

I lived in my trafficker’s home, but not as an equal. I lived like a slave. She made me sleep on the basement floor and forbade me from using any of the family’s soaps or other items, so I would not “contaminate” their belongings. She cut my phone access, so I was not able to communicate with my family at all for three years. I was refused medical care when I was sick. The only food I could eat were leftover scraps. Many times, I had to watch the family eat while I was starving and malnourished.

While I lived there, I was raped by a family friend. I could not receive any help because I did not speak English and did not know what to do. Whenever I tried talking to my trafficker about anything, she would call me ungrateful because she had taken me from my poor home village. Often, she would say “I can do anything I want, I’m a diplomat, I have immunity.” She also accused me of sleeping with her boyfriend.

The pain was too much. I was dying slowly, and I could not take it anymore. I wanted to die, but I knew that if I died in that house, my trafficker would throw my body in a dumpster and no one would ever find out. So I thought maybe, if I die in the street, people will find me and my family will learn of my death, maybe on the news.

One day, I found my passport and snuck out of the house through the garage. I was so thin, I managed to squeeze myself through the gap beneath the garage door. Then I ran away, leaving everything behind.

Today, I am a survivor. What happened to me doesn’t define me. While I still have not overcome my traumas 100 percent, I empowered myself through learning about who I am, my rights, and trafficking laws. I learned that trafficking is not just sex trafficking, and it was labor trafficking that brought me to the U.S. and entrapped me. Now I am a leader. I am a member of the National Survivor Network and a board member of the Survivor Alliance. I have spoken before Congress and at conferences. I work alongside NGOs to change policies, including a labor statute in Maryland that I advocated for.

Still, I am angry that domestic workers are invisible to many people. The whole time I was suffering, nobody saw me. I remember shoveling snow in my trafficker’s driveway, without gloves, boots, or warm clothes, watching cars pass as everybody missed those red flags.

It’s hard to identify trafficking of domestic workers since it usually happens behind closed doors, but the community should learn how to identify these situations and hold labor traffickers accountable. Domestic workers deserve fair treatment, decent pay, and benefits. The government, Congress, and our communities need to make sure survivors always have a seat at the table. Nothing about us, without us. It’s our pain and our story. You cannot fight trafficking without survivors, period.

CARLOS

When I first came to the U.S., I didn’t realize I was being trafficked or that my working conditions were not normal. I had come here for the same reason as a lot of Filipinos — a simple dream, especially as a father, to bring my family out of poverty. I didn’t know about my rights. All I knew is that I came here to work. I was just so happy and excited to be in America.

Before I came here, an employment agency in the Philippines found me a job as a cook at a country club in Florida. I had to pay them $3,000 just for all the paperwork to get here. Once I arrived, I stayed in a small house with a bunch of other workers, about six or seven of us in each room. I thought it was all normal. I believed in the lies my employers told me about the contract, the salary, the house, the visa. They told us we would get green cards and be able to bring our families here.

After working for a few months in Florida, they moved us to another country club in Arkansas. They told us our visas had expired, so there was no contract and no paycheck, just a cash advance of $500. My pay was only enough to cover my basic needs in the U.S. I had no money left over to send back home to my family.

They threatened that if we tried to leave, they would call the police and report us to immigration. The treatment was so bad that some of us ran away anyway, but I was too afraid of being deported. I said to myself, I’m here in America for my family. They were still suffering so much to get food on the table. All they could afford to eat was rice and soy sauce.

One night I decided to do it. I got on a Greyhound bus at 3 or 4 a.m., with just my passport and $500 in my pocket, and traveled from Arkansas to Texas, where I stayed with my aunt for a little while until my uncle found me a job in California. I took that job, but it ended shortly after. I had no work for three months. I felt homeless and that I had ruined my family. That’s when I became an alcoholic. I wanted to be drunk all the time, to fall asleep and forget everything that had happened in America. Every time I try to remember everything, it all comes back to me, all the depression and fear.

I thought about going home, but I knew I could not go back to the Philippines for a very long time. I told myself I was already here and that I needed to be patient. Back home we call America the land of opportunity. At that moment, I didn’t know if I could call America that, but I never surrendered or stopped looking for a job. I kept fighting for my family. The only thing I had to hold onto was my faith. I prayed that one day it would all be okay.

My life restarted again when I found a job as a cook and housekeeper in a big house in Beverly Hills. Now I am in another job, working as a caregiver. I still have anxiety every time I see police and fear being caught. I still have trouble sleeping. But I got help for substance abuse and treatment for my depression and anxiety. Today, the trauma is still there, but it’s not as heavy anymore.

It has been 13 years since I was home in the Philippines. I still have hope to bring my family here and get a fresh start. I don’t want what happened to me to happen to my children.

SAM

For me, coming to the U.S. was the realization of a dream, not only for myself but for my family. I was a physical therapist in the Philippines so I was really happy when an employment agency got me a job doing the same work in the U.S. But when I got here, it was nothing like they promised. We were thrown into a hotel in a rough neighborhood. There was no work, no visit to the jobsite, no employer nor a representative who came to welcome us and see how we were doing. We were left on our own. We survived for 14 days eating noodles from the 99 cent store.

I endured the treatment because I had no choice and I didn’t know the laws in the U.S. It was tormenting and traumatic being in a foreign land with no knowledge of the laws, specifically laws about employment and immigration. I also didn’t know before I came that I would have very, very limited job choices as an undocumented immigrant resulting from my trafficking. Living in fear of being deported was stressful and suffocating. Even more because I cannot afford insurance or medical care so I had to just take vitamins and pray to God, and by God’s grace I was able to stay well.

I learned a little from a childhood friend who has been a U.S. citizen for a long time and also works as a physical therapist. He told me that he learned about four physical therapists who had reported their agencies for violations of human trafficking and that they won their cases and got justice. At the same time, my Filipino values of perseverance and faith somehow deterred and delayed me from seeking help for myself.

Information about domestic workers’ rights and human trafficking abuses should be readily available to immigrant communities. It should be easy for workers to contact authorities, even their local embassies, and get help. Labor rights should be plainly black and white and both employers and employees need to adhere to them. There should be a collaboration between the host country and the country of origin of trafficking victims so these predators are stopped from the very beginning. We must treat each other with respect and humanity. We are human beings too and not just nominal subjects for profiteering.

MELANIE

I came to the U.S. from the Philippines to support my family. One of my children had cerebral palsy and was prone to pneumonia, and was always in the hospital, which was expensive. I could not afford his treatment. So when I found an opportunity for a job abroad, I tried my luck and took it.

An employment agency in the Philippines connected me to a job in a chicken factory in Washington State. To get here, I had to pay the agency $5,000 plus airfare. All the problems started when I arrived. The agency told me and other Filipino workers it would cover housing, but when we got there we found out we had to stay in another employee’s home for the first three weeks, and during that time we had to do her housekeeping and take care of her three children, on top of going to work at the factory. Finally they moved us to a housing unit. We were 20 people with one bathroom and no furniture. The women slept in the attic, about 10 of us.

Working at the factory was difficult and dangerous. My job was to debone chicken with an electric sensor on a conveyor belt. We had to work fast, which made it hard to protect ourselves. Fingers were always being cut. There were also immigration raids so we were in constant fear of being caught and deported. I had a visa, but some of the other employees did not have papers. All of us were afraid.

After six months, the company let us go even though our contracts were for a year’s work. Some of my other coworkers from the Philippines were afraid they would lose their visas from being out of work, so they went home. I missed my family and wanted to go home, too. I wanted to provide for them but at the same time, I have to pay my debt. I am still paying off the loans I borrowed to pay the employment agency fees.

In the Philippines, we have this idea that going to America will bring you a bright future. So even though I wanted to go home, I knew people would treat me like a failure if I did — I had been planning to bring my family there and I had failed. All of a sudden you’re back with nothing but debt. People think only criminals get deported. So I stayed.

To get another job, I had to pay the agency a $500 processing fee and they placed me at a resort in Sedona, Arizona. Our living conditions were better there, but the work was physically exhausting. We worked in teams of two to clean 20 rooms per day. I got sick with high blood pressure and vertigo, which made it very difficult to continue working, but I didn’t go to a doctor because it was expensive and I didn’t know about insurance. I decided to resign, but when I told my employer, he threatened to deport me. I ended up staying for three months before I finally broke free. Then I started looking for another job, one that would not take a toll on my health.

My friend found me a job as a caregiver in California. That’s where I live now. I share a place with a senior who needed help paying rent. I spend most of my salary on phone cards calling home, and while the job is steady, the landlord threatened to evict me because I am not on the lease. California’s eviction moratorium has prevented that for now.

I came here to support my family, but I am still trying to save up enough money to see them. My son passed away from his illness last year and I was not able to be there. Many times, I wished that I never came here, that I never had to go through what I did. Had I known that what my traffickers had promised were lies, I would have stayed in the Philippines in the first place.

All I want as a domestic worker is recognition. Domestic work is seen as a lowly job but it’s a decent job and it’s vital to society. We should not be ignored. We are important.

There are potentially thousands of domestic workers living across the U.S. right now, who have been trafficked and forced into labor while being subjected to many of the same inequalities other essential workers face. In fact, COVID-19 has only laid bare the dangers and abuses of domestic work that long predate the pandemic: low wages (often below local minimum wages), overwork, unhonored or nonexistent contracts, employer surveillance, lack of access to healthcare, and more.

The ACLU’s petition demands immediate action to address these abuses, and draws from the expertise of four individual domestic workers as well as workers’ rights organizations including National Domestic Workers Alliance, Adhikaar, Damayan Migrant Workers, Centro de los Derechos del Migrante, Human Trafficking Legal Center, Fe y Justicia, and Pilipino Workers Center.

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8247012 https://www.aclu.org/news/immigrants-rights/behind-closed-doors-the-traumas-of-domestic-work-in-the-u-s via http://www.rssmix.com/

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freenewstoday · 3 years

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New Post has been published on https://freenews.today/2021/02/20/texas-police-looking-for-more-than-100-illegal-immigrants-who-fled-smuggling-truck-amid-winter-freeze/

Texas police looking for more than 100 illegal immigrants who fled smuggling truck amid winter freeze

Texas authorities are seeking a group of more than 100 illegal immigrants wandering through the freezing, storm-hammered state. They fled a packed smuggling truck, in which they were being transported in suffocating conditions.

Bexar County Sheriff Javier Salazar told reporters on Thursday that his department received a call from a truckload of illegal immigrants in San Antonio that evening. Their smugglers had sealed up the refrigerated truck and blocked air holes, and the migrants feared that they would suffocate inside.

Deputies in the area noticed movement around a truck parked at a gas station, and saw a large crowd of people flee the truck and run into some nearby woods. Some 50 migrants were apprehended at the truck, while local media reported that around 150 escaped into the woods.

“It’s sub-zero temperatures here, just about, and it’s still snowing. And our concern is people are going to be very much exposed to… the elements and quite frankly, we’re worried some of these people may be in distress very, very soon here,” Salazar said.

“I think they’re in danger of freezing to death out here if they’re out here for very much longer,” he added.

He stated that the ‘coyotes,’ the smugglers transporting the migrants, likely blended in with the crowd that escaped.

Such smuggling attempts are not uncommon in Salazar’s jurisdiction. Just one week earlier, Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents arrested one person after a man called 911 and said he was trapped in the back of a tanker truck with 80 other illegal immigrants, who were rapidly running out of air.

More than 78,000 illegal immigrants were apprehended crossing the US’ 2,000 mile (3,100km) border with Mexico in January alone, up from nearly 74,000 in December.

While former president Donald Trump’s semi-completed border wall would make crossing the border much harder for migrants on foot, those smuggled in trucks are less easily detected. The Biden administration has promised to use unspecified “technology” to reduce illegal border crossings, and to work with the government of Mexico to secure its own southern border with Guatemala. Just last month, Mexican authorities stopped a truck carrying 130 migrants from Central America.

Back inside the US, President Biden has moved to make it easier for migrants to legally enter. More than 25,000 immigrants held in Mexico under Trump’s ‘Remain in Mexico’ policy have recently been welcomed into the US, and immigration legislation proposed by Biden this week would include a pathway to citizenship for up to 11 million illegal immigrants already living in the US.

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austinpanda · 4 years

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27 November, 2019

It is the day before Thanksgiving, and I’ve decided y’all just can’t live another minute longer without an update on my life in Maine.

Chapter 1: Being an Icky Poor Person

I think we just got accepted into Maine’s Medicaid system! We figured, we’re no longer in Texas, maybe this state can offer us some affordable insurance, so I can get pills and continue living. Turns out, they can! We were honestly able to tell them in our application that we have literally zero income right now, and they sent a letter, which we just received this morning, saying, “Okay, you’re on Medicaid. You’ll get a card in the mail.”

Zach recoils at this. “We’re on the dole! Maine will hate us!” I had already snapped to this, and gone through these emotions, so I was able to help him unclench about it. I reminded Zach that part of Obamacare involved giving states the option to get money from the federal government to expand Medicaid to include a lot more people. So, red states with republican governors and/or legislatures all said, “Alright, then, fuck the poor!” and didn’t expand Medicaid, but a lot of blue states said, “Okay, we’ll take the funds and insure lots more poor people.” Zach came from places like Florida and Alabama, where you’re not entitled to anything you didn’t earn by digging ditches in the hot sun, and worries that this pegs us as Smelly, Unwashed, Too-Lazy-To-Work people.

I reminded Zach how much money we’ve already spent in the state of Maine, how fun it was waiting in line at the driver’s license place, and how expensive it was, how much I had to spend to get my chickadee license plates and register my car in Maine, and how much sales tax we’ve already paid on everything from groceries and booze to our new sofa.

I reminded Zach that getting free medical coverage from the state might just enable his husband to have the pills he needs, and we all want that, right?

I reminded Zach that this is how things work in real countries. If we were in Sweden, we’d probably have all this, and dentistry, and job training, and food assistance while we look for work, too. Take the help when it’s there for the taking.

Chapter 2: Get a Job

I believe I can suspend my job hunt for the next few days! Here’s why: I found a temp agency, called Bangor Area Staffing Solutions, or BASS. (If their motto isn’t “Nothing fishy about our job placements!” it should be.) I got in touch with a woman named Dawn True, and she forwarded me to a Bangor fellow named Chris. Chris called this morning.

Chris: I see you just moved here from Texas! Let me be the first to welcome you to Maine! (chuckling) I see here you’re looking for a job in the field of “anything but a call center,” correct?

Me: Yes please.

Chris: What kind of work were you looking for?

I neglected telling him about my remote kitten cuddling job and instead told him clerical, administrative work, paperwork, data entry, that sort of thing. Whereupon Chris said he thought they could easily accommodate me. He sounded positively breezy, and confident that he’d be able to find a job that would be a good fit.

I have to go in for an interview Monday morning at 11:00. I have to bring references that they can actually call and talk to. Fortunately, I have some.

Also I have to take four online assessments: basic office skills, typing, MS Word, and Excel. I predict I will do: great, very great, good, and worse than if I’d chosen the answers at random. I need to learn Excel, I suppose. I know it’s spreadsheets. I’ve worked off them before! But the extent of it was, “Do each row, and delete the row when you’re done doing it.” I need to watch a YouTube video or two and learn Excel basics real quick. I made notes when Chris told me their intention was for those taking the assessments to take their time, and do their best.

Anyway, potential regular paychecks again before long. Woot!

Maine Driver’s License

Did all the required shit 2-3 weeks ago; still waiting for our driver’s licenses to arrive in the mail. It’s the last thing! C’mon, Maine! I want to stick it under a black light and see what kind of hidden UV shit they’ve stuck on it. Plus, I need to know if it has a moose, or more chickadees, or little dudes, like on the regrettable state flag.

Weather

We had a snow or two, accumulated an inch or two, and then all the snow stopped. Looks like it’s coming back soon! It’s supposed to snow tomorrow morning (White Thanksgiving! Aaaaaahhhh!!!) and THEN it’s supposed to start snowing Sunday night and keep snowing till next Wednesday. Ermahgerd, sner!

Thanksgiving

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Zach is going to make a turkey, and a crock pot full of mac & cheese, and sweet cornbread, and has already made a sour orange pie. It is glorious! It seems to be a gelatinous thing that has to set, in the fridge, kind of like a key lime pie. I’m doing cranberry sauce and stuffing and morning balls! That’s sausage Bisquick balls, for the uninitiated. Balls of Bisquick, breakfast sausage, and shredded cheddar baked until golden brown. They will be beautiful and delicious, and will give rise to many ball jokes. My balls are so hot, put my balls in your pretty mouth, don’t my balls have a warm, savory aroma, etc.

I’m going to watch the Macy’s parade and eat balls and spend the day cooking, smelling yummy things being cooked, and eating them.

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comebeonetwothree · 3 years

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Blog #4: Red Rocks and More Red Rocks

06/16/2021

This blog was probably the most challenging to write yet, considering we have just been hiking a lot and seeing a fuck ton of red rocks everywhere.

They all look different, but they are all just red rocks. Round, sharp, big, small, dirt-like rocks… its all the same, but different.

Throughout all the states we have seen, the terrain has changed drastically as we pass over each border. New Mexico was straight white desert land, Texas was flat as fuck with windmills everywhere, and Arkansas was even more flat but without windmills.

Colorado, however, was very different throughout each region. We started in sand dunes and deserts and worked our way up to the mountains with lots of rain and snow run off. Then being in Colorado Springs, there was a mix of desert and moist mountains, plus some massive red rocks.

Traveling into Utah, there was not much difference in terrains, just some different shades of the red rocks.

Zion National Park was the ultimate red rock arena. Ironic, since we started off seeing Garden of the Gods -both are red rocky parks- but completely different.

Who

Who are the New York girls…

This chapter of traveling includes less new friends, but more last-minute links with old pals from college. It seems like it was just yesterday we were out in Oneonta… oh wait.

Myrene was a family friend of Mary. She opened her house up to us three, as a nice break up between campsites.

We got to wash our clothes and shower; you’ll never know how satisfying a shower is until after living without one for a few days.

Her house was in Colorado Springs, about 30 minutes away from Garden of the Gods.

They chefed up for us the first night with a little surf and turf; steak and salmon with a bombass salad.

Thanks, Myrene.

My dear friend Dee Jay, also known as, Daniel Joseph McDonnell, aka DJ, happened to be camping out in the same area as us in Blue Lakes Colorado. However, due to of lack of service, we had no idea.

Being in such close proximity of us, he sent it to Utah to come hang and meet up with his friend Kailen.

Kailen visited Oneonta this past semester. After meeting him, I mentioned this trip.

He was so welcoming to take us out with him while in Salt Lake City, and give us a locals only tour.

Upon arrival in Orem, Utah, Kailen gave us some good recommendations for hiking and an invitation to a house party being thrown that night… a house party in Utah??? Yah, not what we expected either.

At the party we caught up with DJ and his buddy Brad who was on the cross-country excursion with him.

Brad was a cool quiet dude; he goes to Buffalo State for engineering. He is also in classes to become a pilot…pretty dope.

At the party, we were constantly being asked if we were the girls from New York. Yes, yes, we are.

I guess everyone else there was a part of a friend group or Mormons.

What

What are you doing here…?

Bottom line, there is a fuck ton of red rocks, if you couldn’t tell from the beginning of this.

While in Colorado Springs, we got to experience the Garden of the Gods. It is this beautiful State Park with crazy large rock formations. They were smooth red rocks.

Before the sun set, we drove down the block to a LEGAL marijuana dispensary and acquired some flowers ;)

One pre-roll, and two chocolate bars later we returned to the Gardens of the Gods for a fiery sunset.

The atmosphere around the area already appears to have a sunset hue throughout the day, guess why??

Yup, the red rocks.

But it gives the sunsets this crazy enhanced color, with a little joint it make the sunset even more spectacular.

The following day in Colorado Springs, we went to visit this town that the locals call, “the town stuck in time,” also known as Manitou.

It was this super cute hippy dippy town with herbal Apothecary’s, glass shops, and bohemian little boutiques.

After, we stumbled across this crazy dope bar in Downtown Colorado Springs. It was an instillation art museum bar, and the main exhibit at the time was based on the Netflix original The Queens Gambit.

This giant bar had about seven different bar areas within the one location. Each spread out and each with their own vibes and aesthetics.

The vibes ranged from the specific beers they had on tap and the cocktails they offered, to the wood used for the bar top and lighting. There was even an upstairs with neon paintings, where you were provided with 3-D glasses to get the full effect.

There was an outdoor area with cornhole and an indoor game room with every board game you could imagine.

I could live in that bar forever… I peeked on a Wednesday night <3

In Utah, we rented a cute barn Air bnb for three nights, in a lovely air-conditioned upstairs unit.

We cleaned all our camping dishes as soon as we arrived, utilizing the water as much as possible.

The following day we went on this lovely hike to see some great views, and yup, you guessed it… some more red rocks!!!

After the hike in 100-degree weather, we decided to look for the nearest body of water to submerge in.

We went to Utah Lake State Park, a body of water that does not exceed 9 feet at its highest water level (and it stains your skin).

I thought I’d seen the nastiest water in the Hudson River, but nope, this shit was so dirty I could not see my toes when the water level was at my ankles.

Post standing in the water for 20 minutes questioning if we should go in, we indeed did not fully submerge, thank god because Maya informed us Utah often dumps sewage in the lake to dispose of it.

I instantly felt like I was in the lake in the Simson’s movie that stored Spidey Pig’s halo of shit.

That night we went to the Utah house party. We had no idea what to expect going in. Usually, house parties are small gatherings, but here we were the bitches from New York.

A small gathering is indeed what it was.

The following day we set off for a hike to some hot springs. Hot springs are natural hot water pools often off the side of a river or creek.

These hot springs were different from the ones we saw in New Mexico, it was about a mile long of multiple hot pools. The farther up we went the hotter the springs got.

After hiking two miles in 105-degree weather, the heat from the water was our enemy. It also smelled like rotten eggs?? I guess they forget to warn you of these things before you start the hike.

Post hike we picked up some Chinese takeout food and went on our way back home to pack up for our departure.

Driving to Zion area, we passed some new textured red rocks, these were sharper and more linear.

We spent two days there, because it is near impossible to see the whole park in that heat, let alone in a day.

At nights, we would cook dinner on our portable propane stove. The first night we chefed up turkey burgers, with sauteed onions and zucchini. The second night we made camping mac and cheese… boxed mac, cheddar hot dogs, and grilled chicken with a side of roasted veggies. The last night we ate the left-over chicken in a southwestern salad wrap.

Cooking in the woods is probably my favorite part of camping because you reinvent ways to create easy meals that satisfy your every need.

Where

Where to next…

Colorado Springs was a gorgeous area with a very large city and hikes everywhere. It was the best combination of hmm I want to go out on the town for some drinks, and hey let’s get lost in the woods and hope a bear doesn’t attack us.

The quote, “take a hike!” really applies here. You can get annoyed at someone in a bar and say, “take a hike” and it is very possible for them to just walk outside and take a fucking hike.

Post springs, we hit up Utah.

We set off on our 9-hour drive to Utah!! The home of Mormons and more red rock mountains.

In Utah there is a surplus of children. I know this sounds like it would be anywhere like the baby boom, but this shit is super locational.

Specifically in Orem, which is right outside of Salt Lake City, their target audience in stores is children and parents.

The Walmart there was divided up between 25% of food items, 25% household items, and 50% baby accessories and food.

While out on the town, basically every person has a baby or kids in bulk. About 5-6 is the average amount of kids per family.

Within Utah we stayed in Orem and Virgin (which is right outside of Zion National Park).

The town of Virgin was exactly how it sounds, prudent, quiet with little to no action.

While camping there for three nights, we traveled to Zion National Park for the day. Zion was this gorgeously large area of BIG red rocks.

So, my question is, why is that one area of red rocks considered a national park? What makes that area better than the other red rock areas for the national parks to take ownership of it?

When

When the fire starts to burn…

While in Colorado Springs for two nights, we caught up on laundry and energy, in a nice, air-conditioned house.

We drove to Utah and stayed there for six nights, three nights were spent in a loft Air bnb, and the other three were spent camping out in the desert in our tent, while DJ and Brad slept in their hammocks.

We were lucky enough to get some shade within the average 100-degree weather of the deserts. But not lucky enough to have a campfire, since there was a fire ban in effect, due to the lack of rain fall which hasn’t happened in weeks and wont for longer.

We are now back on the road…

Why

Why is it so hot out…?

I never thought I would enjoy a super-hot atmosphere, but with dead heat like this, it doesn’t feel too bad… plus my tan is coming in faster than ever before.

The weather consists of dry heat. So dry and hot that you kind of feel cold sometimes. It’s the kind of heat that makes you sweat, but the sweat is evaporated off your body before you realize it exists.

It’s not too bad… next week it will be 116-degrees in Utah. I don’t know how people live here without pools.

How

How you doinnnnn…

Being that bitch from New York comes with a lot of questions… How did you guys plan this? Why now? Where to next?

All I can say is we just out here doing our best… we made it this far, wish us best of luck and follow my blog for updates

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