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tamorapierce · 4 years

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Tammy's Spring 2020 Reading Recommendations For the Bored

Sooner or later the bookhounds among us are going to start joining my relentless song, from age five on up, of “I don’t have anything to read!!!!”

I am here to help. In this space, as I get to it (knowing, as my readers do, that I have no sense of deadline), I will be posting a constant set of collections of book titles by authors my team and I have read and will recommend in a wild variety of genres and for a wild variety of ages. (And I’ll give a short hint as to the subject of the first book/series—if I did them all I’d never finish this.) This last is for the many of you who are reading teen and adult books in grade and middle school, and those adult readers who are reading teen and kidlit. These people are for those who love books and don’t care who is supposed to be reading them.

Also, you may have to look far and wee, since we will be drawing upon not only recently published books but older ones that we have either read recently or that we read long ago and have re-read or have never forgotten. Don’t say I didn’t warn you when the writing is archaic. If you’re a true nutsy reader like the rest of us, you won’t care.

-Tammy Pierce

* * *

Assume the book came out within the last 2 years unless I put LO next to the title, which means you have to check libraries and bookstores online and paper for copies.

* * *

Diana Wynne Jones LO

A generation or two of fantasy writers, particularly those who love humor, bow to this woman as our goddess. Not only was she out of her mind in a very British and manic way, but with her TOUGH GUIDE TO FANTASYLAND she taught a number of us to ditch some ill-considered tropes of our genre. If you write historic fantasy in particular, move heaven and earth to track this book down. There’s a bonus: some of the entries will make you laugh till you cry.

She is best known for her books for middle grade and teens, but they are enjoyable for all readers. I cannot list them all here because my fingers will break (curse you, arthritis!), but these titles will give you a jumping-off point. And remember, authors change with each book, so you won’t encounter the same author with each title as the author you read in the previous one!

The Chrestomanci books, all in the same universe, in order of story,

not publication

Charmed Life (1977) An innocent lad follows his plotting egotistical sister to live with England’s chief wizard

The Lives of Christopher Chant (1988)

Conrad’s Fate (2005)

Witch Week (1982)

The Magicians of Caprona (1980)

Short stories

The Dalemark Quartet begins with

The Spellcoats (1979)

3 sequels

The Derkholm books are

Dark Lord of (1998)

Year of the Griffin (2000)

The Tough Guide to Fantasyland is standalone, but is a kind of offshoot of the Derkholm books. You don’t have to have read the Derkholm books to get Tough Guide!

There are other books and stories by Jones—I’ll let you find them on your own.

Philip Pullman

To this day I am unable to call him anything but Mr. Pullman—that’s how much in awe of the man I am. We’ve had dinner together, talked on the phone, talked at an event or two, done a conversation on audio with Christopher Paolini—it’s still Mr. Pullman to me. (I was an assistant in a literary agency when I discovered his work, and I never recovered.) He is, in a word, brilliant, and his interests range through all kinds of areas, particularly history and religion. I could have talked with him forever that night we had dinner, but the poor man had jet lag and I let him go to collapse. It was one of the best exchanges of ideals, values, and books I’ve ever had.

Read his work carefully, because what he discusses is never just the story on top. No matter what he writes, he is making strong points about social justice, human nature, religion, and history without preaching. He is one of the few male writers out there who can write female characters as people, not Something Different. And you never know, with his work, where he will go next.

The Ruby in the Smoke,

book 1, the Sally Lockheart mysteries

Victorian mysteries with a female hero and male assistants,

The Book of Dust and sequel,

first 2 books of The Secret Commonwealth

His Dark Materials trilogy

The Golden Compass

2 other titles

THE COLLECTORS

LYRA’S OXFORD

THE WHITE MERCEDES

FAIRY TALES FROM THE BROTHERS GRIMM

I WAS A RAT!

TWO CRAFTY CRIMINALS

COUNT KARLSTEIN

(I will stop here and let you find the rest. Most are available as Nook books.)

Sharon Shinn

I discovered Sharon Shinn with JOVAH’S ANGEL, but a shortage of funds left me unable to pursue my interest (I am an economic disaster with libraries, so I buy rather than borrow) until, with a job and money to spend, I spotted THE SAFE-KEEPER’S SECRET. It is the story of a medieval-ish world and a small village where a baby was left with a childless couple. She is raised as their daughter and discovers, as she grows, that her mother is an important, a Safekeeper, the person to whom a secret can be told, relieving the person who told it of the weight of guilt from it, to be carried by the Safekeeper until the owner either decides to tell or dies. (And if they die without giving permission, the Safekeeper never reveal the secret.) The baby who is adopted by this town’s safekeeper becomes the safekeeper in her turn.

The next book is THE TRUTHTELLER’S TALE, about a girl who acquires the gift (??) of telling the truth, whether the person she tells it to wants to hear it or not. The third book is The Dream-maker’s Magic. The three main characters now learn why they have been brought together over the course of the two earlier books, in what I thought was a satisfying, if unusual, conclusion.

And there’s more! I just did the two I love best!

THE SAFEKEEPER’S SECRET (book 1, two sequels)

ARCHANGEL (4 books)

TWELVE HOUSES (5 books)

ELEMENTAL BLESSINGS (4 books)

SHIFTING CIRCLE (2 books)

UNCOMMON ECHOES

GENERAL WINSTON’S DAUGHTER

GATEWAY

Daniel Jose Older

I was a Daniel Jose Older fan before I was sent DACTYL HILL SQUAD for a blurb (preodactyls in flight! Of all sizes! Confederate spies! Thuggish bigot northerners! The backlash of Gettysburg and the forced recruitment of blacks for the war effort! And strong, smart, fierce kids of various ages, sizes, colors, national heritage, and skills doing their best to help the war against the slaves, keep escaped slaves safe, duck the cruel managers of the homes and jails where they are being kept, find a half-decent meal, free other kids in trouble, learn who’s killing their friends, and help the dactyls! That’s part of it, anyway!

Yeah, I loved it. And there’s at least one new book, and once I’ve mowed though that, there are his older teen books, and his grownup mysteries, with their half-dead taxi driver who doubles as a part-time troubleshooter for the undead powers in his Bone Street Rhumba series. {happy sigh}

Edgar Allen Poe

Yes, some of these are reminders of why we ended up to be the readers we are and to nudge us to corrupt—I mean, “introduce”—new readers to the glories that are our legacies.

THE COMPLETE TALES AND POEMS OF EDGAR ALLEN POE

Here are the greats:

poems like “The Raven,” and “Annabelle Lee”

stories like “The Fall of the House of Usher,” “The Telltale Heart,” and ::shudder:: “The Pit and the Pendulum” (yes, a deep pit and a swinging pendulum topped with a razor-edged blade will be featured in this story).

My dad would read these to us on dark and stormy nights when we lived near the Pacific ocean, when the fog came rolling in, softening every sound, when there were no cars driving by and no other sounds in our house but his deep voice and the crackle of the fire in the fireplace. We would listen, soundless, as he wove the stories and poems around us and the foghorn sounded offshore.

That’s the power of Poe.

N. K. Jemisin

I think I began with Jemisin’s THE HUNDRED THOUSAND KINGDOMS, soon followed by its sequel THE BROKEN KINGDOMS. The series ended with a third book, THE KINGDOM OF THE GODS. She presented a rich and varied world from the aspects of people of different classes, showing the growth of societies and their formation. I have a secret passion for society-building and social interaction, and whether or not a book is difficult to read (as Jemisin’s books are in spots because she refuses to insult a reader by talking down to them) is immaterial. I want the world and I want the characters, and with her far-reaching mind and her respect for her characters she delivers each and every time. I have read almost everything she’s written since that first trilogy: if I’ve missed something, it’s because I was in the middle of a deadline and on the road and somehow didn’t see it. I’ll catch up! This is just a sample:

For readers of all sexes and adult reading skills

The City They Became (pub’d April 2020)

The Inheritance Trilogy:

The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms, 2010

2 book sequels

Novella: The Awakened Kingdom, 2014

Triptych: Shades in Shadow, 2015 (3 short stories)

The Dreamblood Duology:

For readers of all sexes and adult reading skills

The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms, 2010

Two sequels

The Broken Earth series:

The Fifth Season (August 2015)

Two book sequels

And there are plenty of short stories out there. I may even have missed a book or twelve!

For those who prefer to hear my ramble in person, a video!

youtube

#tamora pierce #tortall #book reccs #book recommendations #YA #fantasy #science fiction #diana wynne jones #edgar allen poe #philip pullman #sharon shinn #daniel jose older #nk jemisin

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 years

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A stroll through Magnolia Park

One of the weird ironies of living in the US and having family, friends and colleagues abroad is the vast, iniquitous gap in vaccine availability based on where you live, and, more particularly, whether you live in a poor country or a rich one.

Vaccine Apartheid is a global terror and horror, but that’s not the “ironic” part. That would be the American vaccine deniers who have effectively killed the dream of herd immunity, and taken anti-vax from a threat to public health to a threat to civilization itself.

The way this manifests is often quirky and personal — like the news that some of my beloved cousins in Canada and the US have become anti-vax, anti-mask conspiracists, losing themselves in the Qanon cult.

They’re never far from my thoughts, but doubly so yesterday. You see, here in LA, we have high levels of vaccination and a general lifting of restrictions that — in contrast to the premature “re-openings” elsewhere that led to lethal outbreaks — feel prudent and safe.

That’s given my neighborhood — Burbank’s Magnolia Park — a new vitality. The centerpiece of the neighborhood is a couple miles’ worth of pedestrian friendly, retail, dominated by independent and idiosyncratic retailers that draw people from all over the city.

Many of these did not survive the pandemic, but a heartening number of them held on, and it’s great to see crowds out there on a Saturday. Yesterday, I rode my bike up to one end of the strip, outside Porto’s, the regionally famous Cuban sandwich shop, locked up and strolled.

Magnolia Park’s retail is dominated by vintage clothes and memorabilia stores, a legacy of our proximity to the studios (Disney, Warner and Universal are all a few minutes’ drive), which created demand for wardrobe and set pieces, and a supply of post-shoot surplus items.

It’s also got some great restaurants, like The New Deal. Unfortunately, thanks to Burbank’s antiquated blue laws, almost no one has a real liquor license (wine and beer licenses are easy to get, but spirits licenses are all but impossible).

The sole exception on the strip is…unfortunate. Tinhorn Flats (AKA “Tinfoil Hats”) is a fake saloon with a nice back garden that had one of those rare liquor license, and paired it with mediocre bar food. The best thing about it is its fantastic neon sign.

The worst thing about is that it’s owned by mask-denying, covid-denying far right Trumpian conspiracists who defied public health orders, flooded their social media with culture war bullshit, and became a rallying point for every Bircher, Klansman and Qanon in the Valley.

I do mean “rallying point.” As Tinhorn Flats waged war — installing generators after its power was cut, removing the boards over the door, etc — it hosted weekly Sat gatherings of unmasked, unhinged conspiracists waving American flags and signs decrying “Hollywood pedos.”

They’re still out there, every Sat. If you’re one of the many people who comes to our great family owned grocery Handy Market (whose neon is better than Tinhorn’s!) for their weekly Saturday parking-lot BBQ, you’ve seen ’em, screaming about frazzledrip and “small business.”

They were there yesterday, between my stops at The Mystic Museum and Halloween Town, two of our three goth superstores (the third being Dark Delicacies) — Burbank will costume you, sell you an articulated bat skeleton and fill your bookshelves.

Then you can tour the museum-grade replica of the horror section at a 1980s video store:

https://www.themysticmuseum.com/slashback

and buy merchandise from a wholly hypothetical slasher summer-camp:

https://beardedladysmysticmuseum.square.site/#MJosnZ

It’s such an odd juxtaposition, to be walking around a neighborhood that is making a brave recovery from the lockdown, stopping in at these improbable, scrappy shops, and then walk past these superspreaders screaming in front of the chainlink-surrounded derelict bar.

But my first fully vaccinated Saturday stroll down Magnolia was rescued by a discovery at Halloween Town: the discovery of Round2’s “Haunted Manor” model kits, cheeky remakes of the classic “Zap/Action” MPC Haunted Mansion kits of the 1970s.

https://www.round2corp.com/?s=HAUNTED+MANOR&post_type=product&type_aws=true

The original models were from the high-water mark of Haunted Mansion merch, the era of the UV-paint-doped “changing portrait” cards, the magnificent board-game, and Randotti skulls, models and plaques.

http://www.hauntedmansion.com/spgm/index.php?spgmGal=Vintage_Collectibles&spgmPic=2#spgmPicture

They ingeniously incorporated rubber bands into their interiors to create pop-up effects, like a corpse that popped out a grave, causing the poor grave-digger to spin about. Between the kinetics, glow-in-the-dark plastic, and a good paint job, these were just fantastic.

Even if you never owned one of these kits, if you read comics in the 70s and early 80s, you can’t have missed their distinctive, brilliantly conceived full-page comics ads. Small wonder that these kits sell for stupid money in the secondary market.

The Take2 models (sold under the Polar Lights mark) are not quite replicas of the MPC models (presumably they couldn’t get a license), but they’re fabulous reinterpretations of the vintage designs and I love the renaming (i.e. ”Play It Again, Sam” becomes “Play It Again, Tom”).

Alas, I couldn’t find any sign of a Polar Lights remake of the MPC Zap/Action Pirates of the Caribbean models (whose ads were even better!).

https://pirates.fandom.com/wiki/Pirates_of_the_Caribbean_model_kits

After all that, I confess I didn’t buy the kits (though I may go back today and rectify that). My daily work-load is so high that I’m lucky if I can manage to carve out half an hour every couple days to read a book, let alone put together and paint a model.

But of all the aspirational hobbies I’m wishing I was engaging in, assembling these models tops the list. Building a “Grave Robber’s Demise” kit wouldn’t quite be a “nature is healing” moment, but I know it would give me joy.

In the meantime, I hope you get vaccinated, too — and if you’re ever in Burbank, be sure to patronize our wonderful indie stores (and don’t miss Iliad Bookshop, one of the great used bookstores of the region!).

#pluralistic

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brideofedoras · 4 years

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Cupid’s Arrow

A Modern AU Cupid/OFC

Disclaimer: I do not own Cupid or Aphrodite or the images in the aesthetic I created... I only own my OCs...

Warnings: NONE! (yet...)

Word Count: 2100+

Rating: 18+ (to be on the safe side)...

*Note: This was originally supposed to be a short one but it got away with me. I’m nowhere near finished with it, I’m currently stuck but I wanted to post it for Valentine’s Day. So... Here’s part one!

Valentine’s Day is T-minus 7 days, 14 hours, 38 minutes…

Cupid snorted awake when the damned alarm sounded on his phone. He rolled over and grabbed the device to silence the alert. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” he muttered, dropping the iPhone onto the blanket before scrubbing his hands over his face. Dammit, he wanted to go back to sleep.

Unfortunately he had a job to do. And if he didn’t do it, his mother would never let him hear the end of it.

Aphrodite had been on a tear ever since she’d heard about some cute little brunette running a quaint little bookstore in the middle of Nowhere, Missouri. Rumor had it the girl was very beautiful and every red-blooded man in a hundred mile radius were flocking around her.

He screwed his eyes shut. His mother could be a very jealous woman at times, but this was ridiculous. She wanted him to go undercover, get a job somewhere in that town (preferably at the bookstore, if Aphrodite had her way), and nail some fat, ugly old man with one of his arrows and make him fall in love with the girl.

He sighed heavily as he sat up, the bedding pooling at his bare waist. One thing he hated was his own mother using him to ease her jealousy at some innocent woman’s expense.

“That’s not how I work, Mom,” he muttered to himself. He threw the covers off and stood up, shuddering at the slight chill in the room.

He preferred to bring couples together naturally without wasting his precious arrows. Occasionally someone would drag their heels and deny they were head over heels in love with the person they were meant to be with. Then he would bust out the crossbow and take aim.

But to use an arrow to force love on someone? It was immoral. He would not do something that went against his beliefs.

He would go, he would try to get hired on somewhere in Valentine Creek, Missouri, and see if there was anyone she was interested in. And if the feelings were reciprocated he would work his matchmaking skills, bring them together and hope for the best.

Cupid grabbed a pair of boxer briefs and pulled them on, formulating the plan in his head. Research the town, see if there are any job openings, apply and charm his way into a job, meet the girl, befriend the girl, and hopefully fix her up with her one true love.

He finished getting dressed and fixed himself a pot of coffee before he grabbed his laptop and settled down on his bed once more to do a Google search on the girl his mother had taken a dislike to sight unseen.

Valentine Creek, Missouri. Population 8,347. Located on the Missouri River in the middle of the state, cute little tourist town with a rich history. His hazel eyes skimmed along the list of businesses until the name of the bookstore Aphrodite had practically spat out last night caught his attention.

Adventure Awaits. Established in 1996 by Nic and Calliope Wilder on the square in historic downtown Valentine’s Creek, Adventure Awaits is a bookstore, bakery and coffee shop rolled into one. Current owner and operator is their daughter, Penelope Wilder, a 2018 graduate of Olympus University where she studied business management and creative writing. The Wilders have collaborated with area businesses during festivals to host wine walks to raise funds for restoring historic sites of interest; children’s workshops such as creative writing, art, dance, theater, and baking; pet adoption specials; back-to-school supply drives, and Christmas book drives.

He reached for his coffee and took a sip before searching to see if Adventure Awaits had a website. “Bingo,” he murmured when it pulled up. He frowned thoughtfully as he took in the simple page with a Victorian-esque background. Links to view the dessert and beverage menu, books, gifts, upcoming events lined the top of the page.

He scrolled down the main page, finding it to be a blog of sorts touting specials, sales, employment opportunities and photos from recent events.

One photo caught his attention. A blue-eyed brunette curled up on an overstuffed armchair with a book and a three-legged cat.

Meet the not-so-new owner and operator of Adventure Awaits: Penny (and Church).

Cupid double-tapped the photo to get a better look.

Long dark hair flowing in waves, bright baby blue eyes framed with long dark lashes, high cheekbones, full pink lips, flawless skin. An aura of shy innocence in that smile.

Warmth flooded through him as he studied, as he memorized Penelope Wilder’s photograph. He wondered if her hair felt as silky as it looked, if it would curl around his fingers. Would her lips feel plush and velvety soft under his? What would her kisses taste like? Would her eyes sparkle with love and adoration as she looked deep into his own hazels?

The increasing tightness in his chest snapped him out of his reverie. Cupid scrubbed his hands over his face and drew in a deep breath. “You are the God of Love, you have no time for a romance of your own, you idiot,” he berated himself. “Mom would kill you, too, for this.”

He spread his fingers to peek at the computer screen once more, to the chocolate brown tresses and the baby blue eyes and the shy smile. “I can’t do this.”

Cupid startled when his phone vibrated on the night stand. With a groan he dropped his hands and snatched it up. “Crap.” He swiped his thumb to answer. “Mom.”

“Cupid, don’t you have somewhere you need to be?” The sickly sweet tone in Aphrodite’s voice belied the irritation he picked up on.

“No, I’m not doing it,” he leaned back against the headboard.

“Yes, you are,” she growled at him. “You are going to fly your cute little ass to Missouri and make her fall in love with some fat old geezer.”

“Mother, what you are demanding of me goes against what I stand for,” he warned. “I will not force that kind of fate on an undeserving innocent.”

“I don’t care,” he rolled his eyes at her flippant tone. “You’re doing this or I’m disowning you.”

“You say that every time you want me to do your dirty work, Mom,” he reached up and raked his fingers through his golden blond hair. “You haven’t disowned me yet.”

“Just do it, Cupid,” she snapped and disconnected the call.

“No, Mom,” he dropped the phone onto the bed. “I’m not gonna ruin her life to appease your jealousy.” He leaned forward to look at the photo of the blue-eyed beauty once more.

“No, Church, you can’t have a brownie,” Penelope smiled at the three-legged cat at her feet. “You shouldn’t be back here anyway.”

Big amber eyes blinked at her from the sweet ebony face before the rescue hobbled off with his fluffy tail flicking sassily at her.

She shook her head as she finished stocking the dessert display. “Chocolate isn’t good for furbabies,” she picked up the cream cheese chocolate chip brownie she’d saved for herself and followed the cat to the window display overlooking the park across the street. It was cloudy out, snow was in the forecast for the afternoon. “Think we’ll get the four inches of snow the weatherman promised?” She scritched behind Church’s left ear.

The cat purred in response, a deep and loud rumble as he turned his head to urge her to scratch him under his jaw.

She smiled as she complied. “Not that we have to get out in it, since we live upstairs and I did the shopping last night.” Her baby blue eyes wandered to the window again. “Well, we have thirty minutes before it’s time to open, Mom will be here later to help me with today’s delivery… Is it wrong to want a shot of tequila to get me through the day?”

“Mrrrrp,” Church gave her a half meow, half purr for a response before turning and hopping up onto the vintage wingback chair in the display. He promptly curled up on the soft ivory afghan.

“It was just a hypothetical question,” she sighed as she straightened the books on the side table. “Maybe.”

She turned away from the window and walked through the small store. She switched around a few Valentine’s Day displays, rotating the books on the stands and tried not to groan as she wondered how many men she was going to have to fend off today.

Not a single one of them were interested in a relationship. They wanted to hook up, do the one night stand thing and go on their merry little way, or the friends with benefits, no-strings-attached thing.

She was shy, introverted, and hooking up for sex was something she could not do. If she was going to invest her time in someone, step out of her comfort zone and make herself vulnerable then that person better be in it for the long haul, and not just for sex. Some of her friends had a revolving door of lovers, and she understood that this day and age that was the new normal. It just was not for her. She wanted the old cliche, a whirlwind romance evolving into happily ever after.

Penny groaned. “I should just go on vacation every year around this time, Church,” she picked up a copy of one of her favorite books and carried it to the counter. “What do you think? A little bungalow on the beach somewhere? Maybe run away to New Zealand?” She chuckled when she received no response from the stray-turned-spoiled house cat. “I’m terrified of flying, that would never work anyway,” she shook her head as she propped Pride and Prejudice up next to the register. One quick glance at the clock on the wall told her she had five minutes to go before it was time to open. With another sigh she rounded the counter to start the coffee maker for the regular coffee, checked the other machines, and grabbed the keys to unlock the door.

“Church, it’s already starting to snow,” she commented as she unlocked the door leading to the enclosed foyer. Once the main door was unlocked she dipped into her bucket of rock salt and stepped out onto the sidewalk to spread it out.

“Penny, where’s your coat?”

Her head snapped up toward the shoe store to the left. “Upstairs in my apartment,” she answered with a smile. “I’ll grab it when I have a chance, Ed.”

“You be sure to do that, wouldn’t want for you to come down sick,” Ed Chambers smiled back. “If you want, I can have Josh shovel the walk for you later.”

“Thank you,” she shook her head. “I’ll take care of it.”

“The offer stands if you get busy, Penny,” he waved before ducking back into his shop.

Her smile dropped the moment she was alone. Ugh. I do not want Josh shoveling my part of the walk. He will just come into the store and flirt and get mad the moment I turn him down. She ducked back into the foyer for more rock salt. “I’m quite capable of shoveling my sidewalk, clearing off my car, and carrying my groceries,” she muttered out loud. “Don’t need some jerk coming along flexing to show off and entice me into something I want no part of.” A few more scoops of salt later she grabbed the sign her dad had made years ago and set it where it was out of the way but easily seen. Caution: Sidewalk might be slick! Please walk with care!

She stepped back into her business and flipped the sign from “Closed” to “Come on in, we’re open!”. Once she wiped her feet on the rough mat she sighed heavily. “I swear to God, Cupid better keep his damned arrows away from me.”

Penny ducked around the wall separating the counter from the kitchen to wash her hands. It would likely be a slow day for business with the snow arriving earlier than expected (never a good sign), and the main drag would be clogged later with rerouted traffic from accidents on the freeway bridge ten minutes away (happens every time it rains or snows, people think they can fly down the highway at 90 miles per hour regardless of the weather). But she had her regulars to think about. Employees from the businesses, city hall, the police and sheriff’s department and the courthouse often popped in for a cup of coffee and a fresh brownie or cookie during their breaks. The auxiliary from the local hospital enjoyed coming in to request books and novelty items to be ordered for their gift shop. She doubted they would come in.

Slow days could be both a blessing and a curse, she thought. With nothing else to do until the delivery, she settled in behind the counter for a long wait.

#cupid/ofc #modern au #fluff #valentine's day #karl urban #church the cat

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yoonseoksoftie · 5 years

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deadly friends. | ch. 0

› pairing: min yoongi x reader › word count: 2.5k › tags: ghost!yoongi | high school au | mystery au | [future] angst › summary: ❝ there are many things a person should consider before buying a car. mileage, gas consumption, and motor condition are a few to name, but never a supernatural entity. after buying what you presume is the car of your dreams, you find that an annoying dead boy was never part of the deal. ❞ › a/n: i was in the shower when this idea came to me so i had to write it! like the entire story came to me, from beginning to end, so am so happy to write this. i hope you guys enjoy it! don’t forget to let me know what you think!

"Well, what do you think?"

The seller's voice held an edge of optimism while she looked over at you from the passenger seat. Her tight smile was bordering on demented and if you focused on it, you could hear her teeth grinding against one another.

You tapped your fingers over the peeling material of the steering wheel, nibbling on your bottom lip. The car wasn't in poor condition, it passed all the requirements necessary to qualify as a useful car, and after the three test drives around the block, it had proven itself to be the one. The only issue was the price, were you willing to spend that much money on a used car?

"I'll take it."

"Yes!” she cried out, clapping her hands together and smiling even wider than before. "I'll go get the paperwork."

She stepped out of the car and with one final crazy smile she was gone. You wanted to laugh at how ecstatic she was, it was as if she was the one buying her first car. But you couldn’t blame her, you were over the clouds. The black convertible was your ride to freedom. No more taking the smelly bus filled with rowdy kids to school, or waking up an hour early to catch it. Now, the only thing stopping you from going everywhere you pleased was your mom.

"Bookstore..." you said to yourself. "Here, I come."

As soon as the words left your lips, you felt your shoulders drop. Memories of you laughing with your friends flooded your mind. What had once been a fond memory that warmed your heart, now brought you immense sadness. It had been three weeks since you had moved towns. From one day to the next, your mother had hauled your entire life onto the back of a truck with the excuse of pursuing love.

In those three weeks, you had walked around your new neighborhood countless times and had failed to spot any people your age. The only person you had stricken a conversation that lasted more than five minutes was with a lady that lived three houses down from you and spent the majority of her days gardening. Her name was Hye-Kyo, and she loved to talk. Like no joke, the only reason you even conversed with her was because she carried the entire conversation all on her own, jumping from topic to topic with no concern for time. You did learn that she had a son named Jungkook, he was around your age and loved video games. You had yet to meet him but you were hoping the two of you would get along, that way you wouldn’t be alone once the school year began.

"The bookstore, really?"

You felt your cheeks burn at the thought of the lady hearing you blubber your thoughts out loud but were surprised when you looked up and found yourself alone. Frowning, you twisted your neck to search for the source of the voice and felt your heart stop when your eyes landed on the review mirror.

In the back seat of your car sat a pale boy with light brown hair.

"Hey!" you exclaimed, turning in your seat to face him. "What are you doing in my car? Didn't your parents teach you about stranger danger?"

The boy looked stumped, eyes wide and mouth agape as if you had just told him you wanted to go bungee jumping with Beyoncé.

“Y-you can see me?” he propped his right leg on the seat, bending it at the knee so he could rest his chin on it, his eyes flashing bright with curiosity.

You ignored him and eyed his mud-caked boots with fury. How dare this punk put his dirty shoes on your semi-new car?

"First of all," you began, reaching towards him through the middle console. "Take, your nasty ass,"—you smacked his leg with enough strength to show him you meant business— "boot of my seat."

The boy gasped, horrified. "Y-you can, you can touch me too?"

"What? Of course, I can touch you," you let out affronted. This kid was just aching to get hit again and you were more than happy to comply. "Want me to show you?"

"But how did you—?"

"Alrighty," the passenger door opened to reveal the sale's lady carrying a manila folder filled with papers. "Here we go. These are the papers you need to sign, uh…is everything all right?"

You removed your irritated gaze from the pale punk to look at her.

"Oh yeah," you assured her. "Just," you pointed in the direction of the boy only to find an empty seat. "...talking to myself."

"Hope you're not talking yourself out of it," she half-joked, offering you a faint smile.

"No, no, no," you waved at her absentmindedly, "Where do I sign?"

The drive back to your new house was the longest and most awkward drive of your life. And you were alone in the car! The pale punk had shaken you up, leaving you to go over every second of the quick encounter continuously trying to figure out how he got in and out your car without making a sound.

Every now and then you'd spare your backseat a quick glance through the review mirror hoping to find him sitting there, but that was completely ridiculous because a person couldn't just appear and disappear at will.

You shook your head, clearing your mind of such thoughts. The boy was probably some dumb kid that didn't have anything better to do than to bother people and he foolishly considered you an easy target. Well, he had another thing coming. If you ever saw him again, he was going to get a piece of your mind.

Parking in the driveway of the white house set the butterflies in your stomach free. The mystery boy was long forgotten. You couldn't wait to see the look in your mom's face when she saw your new car. You had been saving up for almost a year and a half now, taking up different part-time jobs and doing side jobs for quick cash, and finally, you were cashing in your reward. Obviously, you still had to pay for its insurance, but that was for you to worry about later.

Fetching the keys from your pocket, you unlocked the door.

"I'm home!" you exclaimed loudly, "And I have a surprise!"

Your words echoed throughout the empty house.

Making your way to the kitchen, you spot a neon yellow sticky note on the refrigerator door.

"Went out with Camilla, there's leftover pasta in the fridge.

Love, Mom. ♡"

You sighed.

Of course, she was out with Camilla. Everything was about Camilla nowadays. Camilla is part of the wine club, Camilla is building a pool in her backyard, Camilla this, Camilla that. You understood your mother was putting herself out there and that she was exploring her sexuality but did she really have to abandon you like this? You knew it wasn't her fault, you hadn't told her about the car but still. You hardly see her around lately, and even though you live together, you were beginning to miss her.

You drag yourself upstairs, this whole Camilla mess making your head hurt.

The extravagant staircase was one of your favorite things about the house. The wood was a rich brown color with a layer of shine, and it went up in a spiral-like shape. Every time you went up and down the stairs, you felt like royalty. For this house, it seemed your mom had chosen everything based on one word: bigger. This house had a bigger kitchen, living room, bedrooms, restrooms, backyard, you name it. But it was beautiful, everything was fresh and new and you loved it.

You had to hand it to your mom, she had good taste.

Unlike you.

Your room was bland, for lack of a better word. Your bed was pushed against the far left corner of the room near the window. Next to it was your desk, your computer and books laid messily over it, and to your right was a dresser with clothes sticking out of half-opened drawers. Home decor was not your thing. Lately, nothing seemed to be your thing.

This was your final year of high school and you had yet to decide on a college or career. Your mom was constantly on your ass about it but every time you tried to make a decision, your mind went blank with panic. Another wave of sadness hit you like a brick to the head.

Oh, the tragedy.

"Not very organized I see," came a contemplating voice over your shoulder.

You jumped forward, a shriek leaving your lips.

The punk with muddy shoes was back, and he was inside your house, inside your room to be more precise.

"How did you get in here?"

Your heart was pounding against your chest rapidly, and your face was burning hot with awareness. An unknown boy was standing in your messy room. The clothes sticking out of the dresser were screaming at you and you realized that it was underwear sticking out of the top drawer, and the books all over your room were chastising you for not shelving them when you had time. You felt embarrassed and then you felt angry. How dare he make you feel embarrassed about being in your own room?

"Through the door," he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He walked towards your bed and laid down, placing his folded arms behind his head. "I hope you're planning to do something about the walls, they look really bland."

This was the second time this boy had shown up in your presence unannounced, and you weren't liking it. The backseat of your car was one thing, but your room? Your room was a whole new level of invasion of privacy. And he had the nerve to insult you. You were just about ready to explode.

"Five seconds," you said, pointing a finger at him menacing manner. "I'm going to give you five seconds to explain yourself before I go full Bruce Lee on your ass."

The boy stared at you for a long while, his eyes searching your face. He seemed to have found whatever he was looking for because he said, "My name is Yoongi."

Yoongi.

The name was strange yet familiar. You’d heard that name before somewhere, you just couldn’t remember where.

"Okay Yoongi," you said slowly, taking crablike steps until you were standing in front of your dresser. You reached behind you and worked your fingers hastily to shove the clothes back into the drawer as best as they could. "Could you explain why you've been following me? I'll tell the police to go easy on you if you do."

Yoongi puffed out his cheeks and rolled his eyes.

“I’m not following you,” he explained, before straitening up against the headboard and scratching the back of his head, looking uncomfortable. “I mean I am but not in a stalker way, I just…”

“Oh, thank God!” you exclaimed, your voice an octave higher than necessary. “You are not a stalker! You’re just a stranger that follows people they don’t know around, oh wait.”

He rolled his eyes again, before shooting you an annoyed look. “Are you always this sarcastic? And I’m not a stranger, I told you my name.”

You couldn’t help the dry laugh that fell from your lips. It was more of an airy “ha!” rather than an actual laugh at this kid’s nerve.

“I know your name?” you let out hysterically, pacing back and forth and throwing your hands in the air. “Why don’t you stay over for dinner then? Since we know all about each other now. How does that sound?”

If you thought Yoongi was annoyed with you before, he looked like he was just about ready to push you out the window. His brows were drawn together in a frown and he was pouting, cheeks covered in a light flush. If you weren’t completely freaking out about his sudden appearance, you would have pinched his cheeks. He resembled an incredibly cute pissed off kitten.

He let out an exasperated breath as if he was the one dealing with a breaking and entering situation.

“I’m going to show you something, okay?” he placed his hands in front of him to show you that he meant no ill will. “But please,” he begged. “Don’t be frightened.”

Before you could mention how untrustworthy his words sounded, he disappeared.

Yoongi was gone and you were staring at an empty bed.

You had seen many strange things in your life. Like your friends eating ice cream with toast or that kid from school who used to listen to heavy metal music while he studied but never had you ever seen a person disappear like that. Hesitantly, you moved forward and swung your arm through the space where Yoongi had been sitting. Your arm was instantly met with something solid.

Both of you exclaimed at the same.

“Heeey!” you heard Yoongi whine as he reappeared, rubbing at the side of his face. “Why did you do that?”

You were stunned.

Yoongi had superpowers.

That was the only explanation you could offer. He could make himself invisible. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. This strange boy you had just met had superpowers.

This was the strangest day of your life.

All the books you had read before were coming back to you. Was this the beginning of your adventure? Was this the part where Yoongi told you that you were not of this world and he was here to take you back to your people? Did you have a superpower?

The two of you were silent for what felt like hours.

“Please say something,” Yoongi spoke gently, worry swimming in his eyes.

“You have superpowers,” you let instantly, the words spilling from your mouth like they have been stuck there for years and had been finally released.

Yoongi rolled his eyes and stared at the ceiling, murmuring something under his breath.

A million questions were running through your head right now. Too many for you to properly turn them into words and express them verbally. This was insane. Completely fucking insane. This boy in front of you had superpowers and you had witnessed it firsthand.

“How long have you had them? Why are you showing them to me? Does anyone else know? Do you work for the government? Oh my god, is this about the stolen weed because I had nothing to do with that, I swe—”

“Stolen weed?” Yoongi questioned, a look of utter confusion plastered on his face. “What are you talking about? I don’t have superpowers, dumbass.”

“Then how are able to turn invisi—Hey! Who are you calling a dumbass, dumbass?”

Yoongi sighed, for the hundredth time that day and ran a hand over his face. His lips were pursed and there was a serious look in his eyes. You wanted to shake him and demand an answer but you refrained yourself. Instead, you stared right back at him and thus, began the world’s most intense staring competition.

“I’m a ghost.”

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grandmascottlang · 5 years

Text

a beauty and a beast ch.1 (b.b.)

So. I am so freaking sorry that this has taken weeks to come out. So much happened that I don’t really want to get into, but it really prevented me from being able to finish and post this story, and I’m really excited to write it! This is for @sincerelymlg‘s writing challenge! I hope you enjoy this! (Also note: I changed the story a little bit so that it is more modern but it still follows the main story!)

Masterlist | Taglist | Buy me a ko-fi?

Summary: A tale as old as time between a beauty and a beast. [Modern!Beauty and the Beast!AU]

Warnings: Fluff, angst, slightly unedited writing, Bucky isn’t in this part (sorry!), also if you squint there might be a Good Omens reference or two lol

Words: 1.6k

[A/N: I just revamped my taglist and deleted everyone on it so I wouldn’t have to go through over 200 accounts to see who was active. If you’re currently not on my taglist and want to be added, please click the link above! On top of that, if you add yourself to my taglist and don’t interact within three stories (which includes this one!) you will be removed.]

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there lived a young woman who was obsessed with reading, writing, and anything else that had to do with literature. She lived in a small town where everyone knew everyone. But when she was reading, she was in her own little world. And people didn’t like that.

The people of this village liked people who were open and very involved in the community, so when someone was reclusive and shied away from most community events, rumors were started.

“Maybe she’s crazy.”

“Maybe she’s ill.”

“Maybe she’s waiting for the right moment to leave.”

Leaving the community was almost as scary as someone finding the small town that was in the middle of nowhere and attempted to move in. Needless to say, the people feared change. The very thought of change irked them to their cores, scorched their souls, reeked of treason, or rather, resentment.

[Name] was never one to shy away from these rumors, she didn’t want to be like everyone else who acted almost robotically, she always thought of her village as one of the cities that she read about in dystopian societies. It was too perfect for her, and nothing in the world should be and truly is perfect.

Her adoptive father, Steve Rogers, was always encouraging her to break out of the norm and be her own individual instead of being what everyone expected of her. She excelled in school and aspired to be a famous published author after she made it out of her hometown.

“Dad?” She asked Steve one day.

Steve cocked an eyebrow at her, briefly pausing from his writing. He was in the process of writing a fictitious war novel, most likely another one of his best sellers (except of course in the town the two lived in, where becoming a writer was looked down upon and shunned). “Hm?” He turned around in his spinning office chair to look at his daughter. “Something you need?”

“I just wanted to run an idea by you quickly before I head over to the bookshop and before you leave for your convention! My favorite author, besides you of course,” she chuckled, always having admired her old man’s writing, “is gonna be over there signing! I found out that he was going to stop here during his book tour at the bookshop!” She began to converse with Steve about his thoughts about the idea and afterward, she grabbed the book that she wished to get signed along with her bag and bolted out of the house, yelling a quick “Bye, dad!” as her hand turned the handle to go outside.

On her dash over to the bookshop, eyes tracked her path, followed by sneers and rude statements being said to her. Seeing someone run to the bookshop was odd, and to the town, she really was an odd girl.

She opened the door to the surprisingly large bookstore (which looked from the outside as if it took up an eighth of the space as it did in reality), heading to the second floor of the store.

“Hello, [Name]! Good to see that you’re back again! Are you here for the book signing?” the store owner questioned her, a bright smile on her face.

“Vienna! I’ve missed you! I’m sorry I haven’t been able to stop by recently, but I’ve been working on my own writing so much that I really haven’t thought of giving myself a break,” she giggled, scratching the back of her neck in embarrassment. “And yes! I’ve been so excited about this for weeks! I’ve been telling my dad about how much I love his book and when I saw our little village on the book tour list, I screamed!”

“Oh, stop it, girl, you just stopped by last week to pick up a book! Don’t apologize. And I was so excited! His agent, however peculiar, reached out to me and asked if he could stop here during his book tour and of course, I said yes! He is one of my favorite authors after all, too!” Vienna said, beginning to ramble off about the email that she received from the author’s quite… odd agent to say the least as she began to lead [Name] over to where the book signing was.

“Anyway, as soon as you get your book published, you have to let me know! I really wanna sell it here; I have to support my best friend!” Vienna smiled over at [Name] before stopping in front of the author’s signing booth.

[Name] smiled back, waving as her friend, the bookshop owner, began to walk away to reshelve some books that had just been shipped to her store.

She pulled the book out of her bag, smiling at the blond man in front of her. “Hi, I’m [Name] and I absolutely adore your books, Mr. Fell! All of your historical fiction seems very real but at the same time, extremely entertaining and interesting to read, it’s impossible for me to put a book down!”

“Have fun this weekend, old man!” [Name] waved her dad off as he pulled out of the driveway, smiling at her before focusing his attention on the road.

[Name] walked back in the house, closing the door behind behind her. She told Steve to text her as soon as he was boarding his plane to the convention, and the name of it had slipped her mind. While she waited for his text, she picked up the book that she was currently reading and waited, passing the time with a good book.

After a few hours and no word from Steve, [Name] began to get worried. Seventeen of her calls went to voicemail and she grabbed her car keys and dashed out of the house.

She remembered her dad saying that he was going to take a short cut to the airport through the forest by the town and she began her drive in that direction.

She couldn’t remember there ever being a forest by the town until a few months ago and the woods seemed more mysterious than they initially had. As she drove deeper into the woods, it got darker and became almost pitch black when it was only an hour past noon when she started driving. On top of that, it was the middle of summer and it was snowing. Something wasn’t right.

Her headlights reflected off of something and she stopped the car. She hopped out and didn’t worry about her feet getting wet from the snow. She had other things to worry about.

She walked closer to what her headlights were reflecting off of. Steve’s car was totaled and his phone was in shambles. She could see spots of blood staining the snow red, leading away from the car and deeper into the forest.

She shivered from the cold and headed back into her car, following the general direction of the blood. She was also shaking from the thought of what could’ve happened to Steve.

[Name] drove for about twenty minutes until she stumbled across a clearing in the forest, revealing a mysterious looking castle. ‘Why have I never seen this place before or at least heard of it?’ she questioned herself as she opened her car door, exiting her car. She slammed the door shut, seemingly in awe of the massive structure in front of her. She walked up the marble staircase, continuing to follow Steve’s (or at least what she believed was Steve’s) blood.

The castle oozed an aura of nobility and richness, but it was covered in vines and in different places, the castle looked almost faded away. It looked very regal, yet run down at the same time. The doors were a great example of this: they were large, ebony-wooden doors that were carved to portray a scene of a knight riding on his horse into battle and the night seemed to be almost faded into the background, with moss covering his face.

Once [Name] had opened the doors to the strange castle, she looked around the grand foyer. “Dad? Dad, where are you?” she screamed. She began to look around more frantically when she heard a faint “[Name]?” from somewhere deep in the castle.

The castle was fairly well-lit, the girl looked and admired all of the architecture, it seemed as if it had been ripped right from the pages of her favorite novels. It was very fairytale-esque and the girl questioned how on Earth no one had mentioned that such a place existed only a few miles away from the town.

While she marveled at the architecture, she also noticed that every piece of furniture, every decoration, had a very antique feeling to it. Even though many of these items seemed outdated, they looked as if they had been used regularly and recently, however, the castle seemed deserted and empty.

There was a candelabrum placed on a small, oddly placed table. The candelabrum was immaculate and very well detailed, with gold leaves and vines traveling along all of the different “arms” holding up the candles. There wasn’t a single spot on it that faded with age and it looked shiny as if it was new. There was a box of matches next to it, clearly placed there to light the wicks of the candles.

The table stood next to a large, dark oak door. When [Name] opened the door, there was a staircase leading downwards, without any lighting leading down into the passage.

[Name]’s first instinct was to reach for her phone and use the flashlight on it, but she couldn’t find her phone anywhere. She facepalmed after remembering that she left it in the car’s cupholder and she knew that her dad was more important than any phone.

She struck one of the matches on the striking surface, lit the three candles on the candelabrum, and began her descent further and deeper into the castle.

Permanent Taglist (Strikethrough means that I wasn’t able to tag you!)

@sendspidermanpics @coffeebucko @eternallovers65 @ymeradonnadx @spidey-pal

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the-canary · 5 years

Text

Bel Ami - B.B (6)

Summary: You had bigger fish to fry in NYC between your new job, living in a new city and old friend – you were sure in over your head, but who’s that cute stranger that keeps helping you out?(Reader/Bucky Barnes)

Prompt: Person A: “Okay, I have something to confess… I like you. I have for the past two years now and it’s been killing me to hold it in this long but I think you deserve to know.” Person B: “You nerd, we’ve been dating for the past two years.

A/N: this is for @sgtjbuccky‘s writing challenge. please welcome to even bigger idiots :)

Feedback is always welcomed.

“Are you telling me that’s the girl Bucky can’t stop thinking of?”

“The exact one.”

“Well, no wonder the date was a failure. You should see the eyes he was making at her.”

“He’s not in love,” Steve remarks as green eyes look at him in disbelief, “His words not mind.”

“That poor deluded bastard.”

You aren’t sure what to think about Bucky and his invasion from before, as the weekend comes closer and he sends you a message to meet near the library close to the Barnes Towers. You are sure it is just meant as a friendship sort of thing and as much as you feel a certain type of disappointment with it all, you are just happy to have Bucky back in your life -- maybe, he’ll bring another dog with him too.

You weren’t sure if in the eleventh hour, you should be freaking about what you should be wearing or enjoying stuffing your face with pizza on the couch and looking for something to watch.

“What do you think that you should be doing right now?” Wanda asks like she knows your inner turmoil, as she watches you hang up from ordering from your favorite pizza place. She is currently putting on some extra earrings, to match her silver heels and red dress for a night out on the town with Viz.

“I think,” you sigh out, “I should forget about this and fantasizing over being Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman again.”

“Richard Gere again?” she questions as she takes a seat across from you and the shitty little thing you call a kitchen countertop.

“Peek Richard Gere,” you correct her as she laughs. You pout for a second, waiting for the second show to drop as Wanda enters mother hen mode.

“If it’s just as friends, just be casual and happy you,” Wanda explains her point-of-view, “If not, maybe you should--”

“I don’t want him like that, Wan,” you whisper as brown eyes give you a sympathetic look.

“I didn’t spend a whole month see you mope over this Borky for you to lie to me,” Wanda fights back, before cupping your cheek so that you could look at her straight in the eyes. You let keep going though you want to correct her and oh so many things, “But, if denial makes it easier for you, and I’ll gladly help with that--”

“But?”

“But,” she starts off once more with a sympathetic smile, “If being around someone hurts you, you can always cut them off. It’s always in your power to do so.”

“I know,” you remark, thinking about why you followed with your plans from moving to New York from Syracuse in the first place, as she smiles and nods once more before the doorbell rings. Maybe, Viz was here to finally pick her up.

She gets up from her place and grabs her bag before looking at you once more: “Enjoy your 90’s movie binge.”

“I’ll try!” you yell back as she disappears through the small hallway and you are left once alone.

Now, you aren’t so sure if you could watch the damn movie without thinking of how much Richard Gere’s character reminded you of one Bucky Barnes, though you weren’t exactly Julia Roberts. Eventually, you decide on watching Top Gun instead and ignoring that denial could be an island of one.

As you binge on old 90’s movies to forget your anxiety over tomorrow, you are completely unaware that there is another person pushing all the details that he loves about New York into the itinerary for tomorrow with a lovestruck look on his face -- though he’ll deny it when asked by Steve or Sam. However, with a certain red-head, it is a completely different story.

“So, I am guessing she’s the reason our date went so bad,” Nat gives him a small smile, though there are no bad feelings behind it, “The one Steve told me about.”

“Stevie doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about,” Bucky remarks as Natasha gives him a skeptical look, “She’s just a friend.”

Natasha tries her hardest to stop herself from singing the second part to a certain song, as she proceeds to shrug: “Sure, but just remember you’re just going to have the same problem again.”

“I know that,” Bucky remarks in frustration as he pushes a hand through his face, “But, it isn’t like that...I don’t see her in that way.”

Natasha just shakes her head before stating that she has to go back to work and back to seeing Clint, because as least she didn’t have the rich kid problems that came with being one James Buchanan Barnes.

Bucky drives the memory from his head before moving forward with what you guys should have for lunch.

You end up meeting Bucky in the steps of one of older libraries in New York City. The weather is slightly cooler than usual and are falling asleep on the couch after crying over The Green Mile for the what seems like the 20th time, you end up taking a quick shower and picky a breezy open top, a light sweater, and jeans. You aren’t sure what the day is going to entail, but as you see Bucky wearing a simple flannel button up and jeans with Lucas at his side, you can’t help but secretly rejoice over your choice of clothing.

I mean, you didn’t want to seem desperate to the man.

“Morning,” you exclaim with a grin as the large dog perks up for a second, and for a second with those big blue eyes staring at you and you can’t help but hope that Bucky is as well.

“Hey,” Bucky breathe out, as you take a step down and greet Lucas as well. He can’t help but grin at the sight of the dog leaning into your touch before you get up once more and look at him prepared to start the day.

“So, where are we going, oh great tour guide?” you laugh just a little and Bucky can’t help but feel that butterflies in his stomach as his heart speeds up for just a second.

“The Planetarium,” Bucky manages to answer back, as you nod while motioning for Lucas to follow you. The dot agrees to do so with a bark, as Bucky stays in the back.

And as the three of you walk the busy streets of New York, Bucky can’t help but feel like this is going to end up being a very bad idea.

Bucky ends up taking to around Central Park, his favorite bookstore, and a very good pizza place not too far from Madison Square Garden. You also got to know more about Bucky -- about he has gone a few tours when he was younger, how he got connected to the Service Dog Academy he worked with after he came back (as you took Lucas back), and even a little about his family and how he grew up in Brooklyn with his best friend. In exchange, you talked about Wanda and Pietro and how you moved around a lot before settling in Syracuse for the rest of your school, though you didn’t talk much about what lead you to New York.

“Do you like dancing?” Bucky remarks as the afternoon slowly turns into evening and while you had never been the best dancer, you can’t help but want to try it out with Bucky.

“Here and there,” you remark vaguely as Bucky smiles, grabbing your hand and dragging you down the sidewalk.

That’s how you end up at a place called C’mon Everybody.

It’s a quaint little place that seems to be playing a little bit of everything tonight, completely different from that other club where you had meet Bucky before you knew him. However, instead of standing at the sidelines, he quickly grabs a small table, orders drinks, and quickly moves you to the dance floor. You aren’t familiar with some songs, but you do your best with Bucky’s instructions.

It’s a fast twirl of laughs and bad dance moves, as you move from one song to another, quite unsure of where all of this is going but if Bucky is happy you are as well. It hits you like a rock and at that moment, Bucky dips you.

The world pauses and shrinks to the two of you in the darkly lit room, as your eyes meet blue eyes and you realize just how close your face is. Because if you move your face in the right angle, you swear that you could capture his lips with yours and--

That’s when the song comes to an end.

“I have to use the bathroom,” you admit and thus breaking the moment as Bucky lets you go. You run to where the restrooms are indicated to be, as Bucky starts to move towards the table once more. His breathing was a bit heavier than usual, as he tried to calm down whatever adrenaline and emotions he was feeling from that dance.

“Fuck,” he curses to himself, “What the hell was that?”

Bucky knew deep down what it was, everyone had been telling him so for months but now he was finally facing the realization that he really was attracted to you -- he wasn’t sure what to do.

He really couldn’t do anything about it, unless he wanted a Dot incident all over again. Bucky runs a hand through his hair in frustration over his idiocy and just how much he might actually like you. It’s another twenty whole minutes before you come out of the bathroom and by that time he has already called a cab for you.

“W-What?” you manage to stutter out, as Bucky pushes you towards the front of the dance hall. Your heart is jumping in anxiety and fear over what had happened, but you didn’t think that his reaction would have been so negative.

“I-I just realized I have a long day tomorrow,” Bucky remarks trying not to look at your soft lips and watering eyes, “I’m sorry I can’t take you home, but it’s better that way.”

It’s better this way.

The familiar and all too heartbreaking phase causes to you freeze and move forward without another word, as Bucky pushes you into the cab with a weary smile but you aren’t looking at him anymore. You give the man your address and Bucky spots him a hundred before giving you a brief goodbye. He tries to grab your hand but you pull back and say goodnight.

“I’m sorry,” he states, though he isn’t sure if he is saying it for you or for himself as he begins to close the door.

“No,” he hears you whisper, “You aren’t.”

You pull the door to close completely as the cab drives off. You’re left in hurt and confusion as to whether James Barnes was just playing with to begin with or if he just realized he was wasting his time, as you try your hardest not to cry on the way back home.

Bucky is left standing there on the sidewalk, unsure of what to do next but he knows everything is more fucked up than it should be now.

#salinaswritingchallenge #james buchanan barnes #Bucky Barnes #james barnes #james bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes modern au #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fan fic #series: bel ami #fabiola trying to write

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since--1999 · 5 years

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Oregon + Las Vegas 2019

A year ago, my friend and I went to Colorado for spring break. We both wanted to go back, but we decided to do something new and head to Oregon this year. We planned everything within just a few months, and were soon at Dallas Love-Field Airport, waiting in line at security.

After a 5 hour flight, we walked off the plane and were greeted by Oregon’s cool and windy weather. The sun was out, despite weather predictions of rain. We ordered a Lyft and were dropped off in downtown Portland by Powell’s Books. We walked in to get a quick look since we were already there, but soon left to walk around the streets of Portland.

We walked around the Pioneer Square area and soon became hungry when we smelled the food coming from the food trucks. We somehow ended up going to a Chinese place inside a plaza. We sat on high chairs where we could watch the chefs cook, and ate chicken, pork bbq, and dumplings. When lunch was over, we walked out and it was just beginning to sprinkle. Luckily, I came prepared, so we had an umbrella to squeeze under.

On our way to the Tom McCall Waterfront Park, we crossed the street where the smallest park in the world was at- Mill Ends Park.

At the Waterfront Park, we looked out at a darker sky. We could see the Hawthorne Bridge from there and made our way to walk across it. It started to rain more and feel the bridge move as the cars drove past quickly. Then we walked down to a small pier where we could see the Tilikum Crossing Bridge, similar to a bridge in Dallas.

The rain had stopped by now, and we were pretty wet, so we took a break to dry off at Starbucks. Afterwards, we walked to Old Chinatown and saw part of the Lan Su Chinese Garden before it closed. We made our way back to the iconic Powell’s Books and spent our time walking the whole store. At first, I didn’t understand the big deal everyone talked about how it was a must to go to, but after walking through all the color-parts of the bookstore, I understand. It was huge. I lost count how many floors there were and the different branches of each category a floor was divided into. My favorite section was the architecture books. Afterwards, we walked past the “Keep Portland Weird” mural and Voodoo Doughnuts. Before we left downtown, we made our way to another iconic sign of Portland with the jumping deer by the Co-op.

It was the golden hour at that time, which meant it was time to walk to the Greyhound Station to catch our bus to Cannon Beach. After 9.5 miles of walking, we were exhausted and rested on the way to the coast. We watched the sun set as we drove away from Portland and the silhouette trees. After an hour and a half or two, the bus stopped and the bus driver said our destination- Cannon Beach. We were the only ones who got off, so the rest were probably headed to Beaverton. It was almost fully dark when we got off at the bus stop. It was quiet like a small town would be. We crossed the street and saw a small convenience store, and then, for our convenience, our hotel! Luckily, it was just steps away from where we were dropped off. We were welcomed by the staff and checked in. We walked to our hotel room nearby and were surprised by how beautiful it was. We quickly settled in and then walked back out to a nearby restaurant for dinner. We made the mistake of ordering some fancy fish tacos, which were too rich for us. That night, we slept in the most comfy, and spacious bed to prepare for the next day.

When I was finally able to get my friend up, I opened the curtains and was fascinated by the gigantic view of Haystack Rock just from our room.

It was a dark blue outside before the sun was going to rise. Our room was just minutes away from the beach. We were soon walking on sand, and getting closer to Haystack Rock. We sat on the beach waiting to see the sun rise. Unfortunately, all the clouds were blocking it! However, it was amazing being right next to the rock and seeing the birds fly across it. The sky became a bit brighter, and we saw the beautiful beachfront houses and mountains in the distance.

We went to the cute small town of Cannon Beach and had some breakfast at a wonderful cafe. After a generous amount of bacon, poached eggs, and fried potatoes, we went back to our hotel and rested before we had to check out and start the day’s adventures.

We walked a little more through the town’s shops when it started hailing out of nowhere. Fortunately, we were right by a covered area when it happened, so we sat and waited for it to stop. After a while, we walked down to the snow-covered beach. Our view looked out to the light waves and white beach. We wanted to get across to the other side of the beach, but a deep amount of water was blocking our way. So, we ended up hiking through a bit of a muddy and complicated trail.

On the other side of the beach, we walked and walked until we reached a huge rock formation on the shore. The sun was out and the weather felt much warmer. We saw some cute dogs, a ton of birds walking on the beach, and some seashells. After a long afternoon walking the beach, we decided to go back to town and get some lunch. We realized there was an easier way to get back to the other side of the beach connecting to the town through a neighborhood street.

Shortly, we went to the closest food place and got pizza. We warmed up again by having some hot chocolate. Before our beach day came to an end, we shopped for some souvenirs before catching the bus back to Portland. As we walked to our bus stop, we watched the sun set until our bus arrived at dark. When we got off in Portland, it was dark and felt pretty sketchy. We made our way to a nearby bar to wait for our Lyft. As we waited, I heard what made me confirm Portland was weird. A car had ran over a glass bottle, making a cracking noise, and everyone there was pretty entertained by it. Most of them were probably drunk, but what was weird was what this woman said about it: “It’s not the car’s fault.., it’s the bottle’s fault!” The way she said it was pretty weird too. By then, my friend and I were tired and wanted to get the hay out of there. The hotel we stayed in that night was a decent, old-fashion place by the University.

The next day, we were picked up to go on a tour. Our first stop was the tallest waterfall in the country- Multnomah Falls. It was mesmerizing seeing how tall this was. Just from afar, you could smell the coffee from the stand before hiking up to the bridge. It was very slick and crowded with visitors on the way up. Many times, I almost fell, but I had the rail to keep me up. From the bridge, you could see the water falling below and the people at the bottom.

Then we headed to a fish hatchery and some some cool fish and the huge Herman the Sturgeon measuring almost 11 feet long.

The next destination was Starvation Creek. As we walked through, there were tall green and snowy trees. It was beautiful. It felt very different than the parts of Oregon we had been in. It was quiet and calming to be away from all the visitors.

For lunch we drove to the town of Hood River. It was another cute town with houses and shops on hills. My friend and I had some Mexican food, but they didn’t have chicken, nor beef! Our pork tamales weren’t impressive, but dessert made up for it when we had our bunuelos with a generous amount of whipped cream. We walked around the town a bit before our drive to Rowena Crest.

On our way up, the scenery became a vastness of snow. Everywhere was just snow. It looked pretty amazing. When we got out of our van, we were at the top of one of the most beautiful viewpoints I’ve seen. On one side, it overlooked the whole snowy town, and on the other side, a cool picture-worthy loop road.

Our last destination was the Mt Hood National Forest. Unfortunately the visitor center was closed due to an excessive amount of snow, but we finished it off by playing in the thick and flaky snow on a hill. Just getting up the hill required climbing up 4 feet high snow. The view of the snow blowing off the trees and a glimpse of Mt Hood was perfect to end the tour. We ended up falling in a deep chunk of snow and feeling like it was impossible to get up. Walking down the hill, I completed my annual streak of falling down. Last year’s fall was in Colorado.

Back in Portland, we rested before getting some dinner nearby. We went to a sushi place which we didn’t know was a sushi train style. We were completely confused about how to order/if we were supposed to order. At that point, we really thought Portland was weird. It ended up being an interesting and pleasant meal to end our last night in Portland.

The next morning, we had some breakfast at our hotel before walking across the Tilikum Crossing Bridge. It was bright and sunny out. We went down to a pier where the USS Blueback Submarine from the US Navy was at.

We headed to Mt. Tabor next to get some hiking in. There were views of Portland and the reservoirs around it. There were tons of trails to go walking on a nice and sunny day.

Lastly, we went to Rocky Butte, which overlooked the town and a nice view of Mt. Hood. When it was time, we said goodbye as we headed to the airport.

After a short flight, we landed in Las Vegas for a layover. Walking outside, we were already excited after seeing the pink sky, palm trees, and part of the High Roller. We were dropped off by the Flamingo Hotel and cut through an alley leading right to The Strip. Immediately we were high fived by 2 dudes and our eyes were looking at all the sights Vegas had to offer. We saw it all (almost). We probably walked 8 miles of it. It was very cool seeing all the lights and famous hotels and restaurants. We were able to see the end of a fascinating fire show and I ended up ziplining for the first time through the Linq Promenade.

Before it was time to leave, we watched a quick show of a spray-painting artist and bought some souvenirs. At the airport, we were surprised to see gambling machines inside. Our flight was a half hour delayed, so by the time we got on the plane, we fell straight to sleep after all that walking. Arriving early in Dallas, we were still exhausted and I slept the whole 30 minute drive back home and jumped into bed once I got home.

When I woke up, I was for once in a while, done with the excess traveling. With a few days off work, I spent the rest of my spring break resting. This trip I kept in mind the Costa Rican phrase and philosophy of Pura Vida- enjoying the simplest pleasures of life and living life to the fullest. I am so very grateful to be able to really live, discover other parts of the US, and meet new people.

#oregon #cannon beach #portland #mt hood #las vegas #the strip #pura vida

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margotnetwork · 3 years

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[ dianna agron, pansexual, she/her, female ] who was that walking around manhattan? it was ANTHEA ‘THEA’ CHURCHILL. they’re THIRTY FIVE, and originally come from NORTH CAROLINA, USA. they’re known as THE INSECURE, and they are a WAITRESS. when i hear their name, i think of YELLOW GINGHAM, FRILLY WHITE SOCKS AND ALICE IN WONDERLAND . i hear they’re SOFTLY SPOKEN and DELICATE, but i wouldn’t mess with them, because people say they’re DISTANT and FRUSTRATING too.

INTRODUCING; ANTHEA CHURCHILL

AGE: Thirty Five

GENDER: Female

PRONOUNS: She/Her

OCCUPATION: Waitress

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Death

» HER BACKGROUND:

Anthea who goes by Thea was a good girl by all means, there was much different to the way that she had grown up that was any different to the standard wholesome American family. She had two parents, an older brother and a pet dog. The family itself wasn’t exactly rich but they weren’t poor either, they lived quite comfortably and were able to give Thea everything that she wanted and more but that probably wasn’t the best thing for her despite them feeling otherwise. You see in High School - a literal playground for those that bullied others and disrespected those that looked at them a little too differently - Thea was bullied.

Why? Because she was over weight, she wasn’t that perfect size 0-6 that Victoria Secret advertised world wide, no, she was a size 22 in Target and this knowledge made the others have a field day with taunts and insults that were hurled at her daily. This made Thea shrivel up inside, she stuck to the shadows and hid in the library most days because who would want to be friends with someone who was constantly named and shamed? No matter what her parents did to try and help her, Thea wasn’t able to loose any weight because the motivation and drive wasn’t there.

And unless that was there she wasn’t going to change. It was a vicious cycle for her really, the taunts would come because she was bigger than others, and in return that would set off feelings that she just couldn’t push down any more. It brought her to the darkest tunnel that she felt she couldn’t escape out of, and it was this feeling that lead to her turning to food to comfort her, to help her switch off those feelings because nothing else could give her the emotions or rather tastiness of carbs or sweets. The circle just never ended, going on and on until one day it just didn’t and a miracle had happened.

The thing with miracles is that they didn’t last long, they could come into your life like a shooting star, brighten up your life and give you the greatest joy but then like that it was gone and in this case when it was gone, it took things with them. That particular thing was Thea’s parents, she was only maybe 13-14 when it happened and the only thing she remembered was coming home from school one night to see Police men at her door and her grandmother who sometimes looked after her when her parents were working standing in the door weeping. It was a hard concept for Thea to understand because one minute they were there telling her to have a ‘great day at school honey’ and the next they weren’t.

She had worked so hard to loose this weight and to shed this baggage only to gain more in the form of loss. The saddest part of this equation was that she didn’t have anyone to look after her, her grandparents didn’t want to take her - as much as they loved her, they just didn’t have it in their capacity to take her right now - and the only choice left was to be put in an orphanage but who wants a nearly adulated child when they could have the cute little adorable little babies. But when one door closes another opens and honestly at this point Thea didn’t believe in much, so much had come and so much had gone that she wasn’t even sure at this point what was real and what wasn’t.

But the fact that someone else was interest in taking her into their family was, she didn’t know but she wasn’t going to complain. All she wanted was comfort, to be loved, to have a family. It wasn’t going to be her family and she knew this but she wanted something close to it, something similar. Lucky for her though these were people she knew, they were close with her family and knew how much they didn’t want little Thea put back into the system so it was then that they decided along with the other son they had brought into their family that Thea was going to be their other new addition and the blonde herself couldn’t be more then excited to know that she had escaped not only being potentially musical chaired from one family to another but to also be stuck in a place where she felt no one wanted her.

Though like a roller coaster her parents weren’t going to be the only thing that Thea lost in her life time see when Thea got into a relationship with a wholesome male that was set to inherit his parent’s farm, she could see the whole relationship in front of her eyes, from the fact that they were going to get married, have children and just have that white picket fence of a relationship that any female wanted from themselves. She thought it was real and authentic, especially since they had already stranded the test of time for about 3 years before something she never ever thought would happen did.

He had a bachelor party to attend to in the City of Sins - Las Vegas - and a part of her was scared to let him go for there were beautiful women who would take one look at him and never want to give him back and Thea was still coming to terms with her new body and the fact that she was no longer that bigger girl she once was but, she knew that one of key components to a relationship was trust and without trust there was no relationship. But no matter how much you think you know someone, you could be wrong every time. Which is why when she woke up the next day to find all of his’s belongings gone along with a newspaper article to say that he was married to someone other girl-… you could easily say that Thea was just as lost and confused as everyone else was. The saddest part was she was pregnant with his child and he didn’t even know

Today Thea is a lot different, she isn’t that big girl in high school any more. Actually she is a lot healthier than what people remember her to be and it actually shocks some people who see her in the street and wonder why her face looks familiar. It’s because they were last talking to a girl who was Size 22 but is now a ‘healthy’ size 6-8. How did she do it? Well once Thea graduated High School and was no longer caged and locked up with people that didn’t respect her she used her time and holidays to do a bit of soul searching. A lot happened when she turned 18. She did a bit of travelling in Europe, searching for who she was, what her purpose was and how she could change herself around, to stop that vicious cycle.

She tried to run from the disaster that her had caused, all people did was feel sorry for her and after a while it became frustrating because everyone was saying it to her but that one person she wanted it too. She could have eventually come to terms with the fact that maybe he didn’t want to be with her any more, or maybe the love wasn’t there like it used to be but the fact that he just up and left with nothing but a deafening silence-… that was what had annoyed her, she had lost so much already and to know that she had yet again lost something else that meant so much to her-… it was starting to look like her trust in people was falling flat.

Thea has been trying so hard to try and find that closure that she needs to to try and lock away what happened to her in a little box in her mind but she is soon going to find out that you can’t keep everything locked away forever, because eventually what you were running away from was going to catch up to you and you are going to have to face your inner demons even if the demons themselves don’t even want to know you from a bar of soap. But while Thea didn’t have much trust in people any more, she did have one thing-… hope.

» HER PERSONALITY:

Thea lives her days happy within the small confinements of Manhattan as she is sometimes known for being called the ‘Little Rabbit’. It’s often because she is seen reading Alice in Wonderland which - if asked she will tell everyone and anyone - that it’s her favorite reading content. She actually enjoys reading quite a bit as well as Photography and if you do catch her around town, it will be in either the library, the bookstore or walking around town trying to get that one good shot that she knows she can get but just hasn’t been able to get right now.

She is a girl that doesn’t ask for much in life because at this point she is pretty sure that what she asks for, isn’t what she is going to get. Perhaps she loves Alice in Wonderland so much because even though a girl takes a trip down a rabbit hole to a land called ‘Wonderland’ and encounters things that she has never seen before or experiences before she still manages to make it out, and she is better because of it. Thea identifies because she too feels like she has been falling through a massive hole into a world she didn’t expect or understand.

From her parents to her ex she was wandering through the wilderness trying to make it out alive and that right now she is trying to do and she will get there but she just needs to give it time, she still has those around her that she can call family and her friends and it’s those that she is going to rely on the most to get her through. She isn’t a hard girl to get a long with, she is just a girl that a lot has happened to her, and she has had a lot to go through but she knows she will be okay. Eventually.

#thea:bio #my actual baby

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mothdogs · 7 years

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i was talking to a friend about lesbian poets today. just briefly i mentioned the ones i’ve read--adrienne rich, marilyn hacker, audre lorde, sappho--and, inspired by a tumblr post, i then checked out a book by mary oliver. oliver was 70 when she lived through the death of a woman who had been her partner for more than 30 years. thinking about that, the timespans of these women’s lives, made me think a little bit about my personal history and my sexuality. i was going to make this a comic - and i still might, some day - but for now i just want to put it down in prose. thanks in advance for reading, if you do ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

one of the surefire ways that i know i have a crush on someone is that i daydream about seeing them while out and about. i realized this in college when i’d fantasize about running into my cute coworker while out buying groceries or at the bookstore, but i’ve done it for a long time. it’s always been one of those funny lurking thoughts--will i see X today, even in a place i normally wouldn’t? will i get a glimpse of X at random before they see me? will they come over and strike up a conversation?

after this understanding--along with many smaller pieces that have taken years to fall into place in my brain--reflecting back on my youth changes the landscape of my memories. when i was seven years old and in the third grade, my teacher, mrs. maugins, also went to my family’s church. i remember loving mrs. maugins’ class, and whenever i was at church i’d fidget nervously in the hallways and the chapel, wondering if i would run into her, wondering what she was wearing or if she’d say hello to me. at that age i was too young to understand what this meant, and as i grew further into adolescence i was too sheltered by my overbearing mother to know much about crushes or sexuality at all. i knew that jesus thought sexual thoughts were dirty and sinful. homosexuality was never discussed by either of my parents when i was a child, ever.

when i was thirteen, a butch girl named ashley joined my karate class. she was the first lesbian i remember meeting. i didn’t have a crush on her, i don’t think, but i was awed by her boldness. she was probably sixteen or so at the time, but she wore her dark hair in a buzz-cut and had one ear pierced and proclaimed that she was a lesbian without appearing to be concerned with how anyone whispered about it. i was fascinated by her. my karate school was held in a church, and all the teenage girls in the class used to have sleepovers and bible study nights with one of our female mentors. i remember our mentor driving me, ashley, and two other friends to the mall one day. our mentor tried to teach us about what the bible apparently says against homosexuality, but ashley rebutted her arguments and held firm. silently, from the back seat, i cheered her on.

timelines after that get a bit hazy. when i was about fifteen, a new russian transfer student moved into my math class. she was a year older than me and also claimed to be gay, and said she had a girlfriend who went to a different school. she wore her hair in a bob and had a beautiful button nose--i remember this because i used to give her sideways glances whenever i could. i think her name was anna. she transferred after that year--it was something to do with a mix-up in credits from her previous school, and i never saw her again. around the same time, i took an interest in a girl two years older than me who rode the same bus. she was a fantastic artist, and one day she saw my sketchbook and asked to look at it. i remember being surprised and awed that she would even speak to me, and i remember mentally remarking at how long her eyelashes were.

when i was sixteen, i took a gym class where the only people i knew were two bitchy gossip-spreading girls, one of whom was the little sister of my best friend. this girl was truly a vile person--racist, petty, mean-spirited, and more--but i felt like i couldn’t say anything to her that would upset my friendship with my best friend. one day when we were running laps and we passed the gym teacher, a bulldyke lesbian named coach b, my “friend” started making jokes about how coach b kept a dildo in her desk drawer, how her “partner” was rumored to be uglier than she was, and how she probably stared at our classmates in the locker room. this last especially was patently false--coach b didn’t go into the locker room unless it was to scold us to get started with class--but what did i do? i didn’t defend her, this lesbian woman who was being scorned and mocked, this woman for whom i felt an inexplicable kinship and pity. no, i joined in making jokes about her. the memory of it shames me to this day.

(i even tried to look up her email address to send her a letter of apology a few years ago, but can find no trace of her on my high school’s website. i hope that wherever she ended up is more open and accepting than my town is.)

throughout all of this time, in high school and into my first two years of college, i dated several boys. after breaking up with my first long-term (2+ years) boyfriend, i struggled to understand why i didn’t enjoy having sex with him. sure, it felt good--or at least the foreplay did--but i didn’t feel that deepness, the emotional connection that he claimed we had. ditto for the guy i dated a year later; i struggled to make him happy in the bedroom, told myself that if he was enjoying himself then i would just enjoy that and it would be enough for me--but of course it wasn’t enough, and we parted ways after a bit more than a year.

i don’t remember when i first thought the words “i am a lesbian.” i know it was after i started dating my first girlfriend. i was 20 at the time, and pursued her with a hunger and a passion that surprised even me. despite her hesitancy to date me due to age differences, we soon fell in together, and even though our relationship turned tempestuous and unhappy pretty quickly, i found in her arms the satisfaction and the depth of emotion that i’d never known with any boy before. things started to click into place--my secret adolescent obsession with “gay” media, which was forbidden by my parents and my religion; my hatred of girly clothing and my desire to dress in suits and binders; and all of the seemingly small instances that i’ve just laid out. somehow, unknowingly, i’d been forming my identity as a lesbian woman all along.

and now i’m looking ahead at what the future holds. my goal is to find a full-time job that can support me moving out of my parent’s house within the next two years; once i get my master’s degree i’ll have a lot more freedom to acquire a well-paying career. i’ll be able to start pursuing romantic relationships then. i’ll be able to start working towards my dreams--of being an archivist, a beekeeper, a wife who can provide for my future wife. i’m going to fucking get there.

i think the point of writing all of this was to articulate: i was a lesbian my whole life, even when i didn’t know it yet, and that’s a beautiful thing to think about.

#text #feel free to message me if you've had similar realizations or experiences!#lesbians #lesbian writing #wlw

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woods2006gal · 3 years

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Chapter 02 - Here With Me

Austin Wells rarely made his way to Smallville. He preferred to spend his time in Metropolis. It was his home. His city. The only reason he had to make the trip to Smallville was because his best friend and former love, Max Carmichael. Austin had met Max in their freshman year at Harvard. Two peas in a pod, yet from vastly different worlds. Max from the upper echelons of money and social class while Austin was the bottom. An alcoholic father and emotionally abusive mother, Austin had managed to earn a full ride to Harvard.

It was at a welcome party for the freshman class where Austin had met Max. He had been enamored by the hotel heir and it hadn’t taken long for Austin to fall in love with him. Max had been just as enamored with Austin and they had quickly formed a deep friendship that had blossomed into a romantic relationship.

“Are you sure you don’t want to move to Star City,” Max softly asks. Their apartment had been packed up and loaded into a moving truck that was headed to Metropolis. Graduation had come and gone, with the power couple ranking at the top of their law class.

Austin sighs. “My mother needs me,” he whispers. Family loyalty was something he hated and loved at the same time.

Max smiles. He understood where Austin was coming him. They both knew this day was coming. He tightly embraces his boyfriend. “If you ever need anything, just call. I mean it, Austin. No matter what, you will always be my best friend.”

Austin runs a hand through his dirty blonde hair as he pulls up to the Luthor Mansion. His first visit with Nell Potter had been pleasant. The woman had been shocked to learn that Zoey was Max’s niece. He had been the one who helped Max come up with the story about Zoey attending boarding school in Europe. The whole world had seen the most tragic time for a family. Zoey sitting alone in the hospital waiting room with a small cut on her face had been on the front of page of every single news publication. The only image that had pushed it to back of the public’s mind was a year later when Bruce Wayne was pictured sitting in the Gotham police station after his parents’ brutal murder.

Austin shakes his head as he walks into his small studio apartment. “Max, there’s a dozen law firms in this city that would love to have your business,” he says. He had been surprised when his ex-boyfriend had showed up on his doorstep that morning. “Why me?”

“Because I trust you,” Max says. He runs a hand through his jet black hair. “Because Zoey trusts you.”

Austin sighs. “My boss is gonna love this. A second year associate brings in the biggest client in the city. Hell, not just the city but the state. Fuck, Max. Are you sure about this?”

“I am. Zoey trusts you, Austin. She’s doing fine now, but...” Max trails off.

“You’re worried that she’s gonna have a wild and crazy phase during her teenage years,” Austin finishes, with a soft smile. “From what I remember of Zoey, I don’t think she’ll run off and marry a drummer of a one hit wonder band.”

Max chuckles. His sister, Shannon, had done that when she was eighteen. “Yeah, I don’t think Zoey would do that. She’s ambitious. I think she would act more in line with what I did and what my father did.”

Austin smiles. “You think Zoey would start a company? In Smallville?”

Max shrugs. “Zoey’s ambitious.”

Max had been right about Zoey. She was ambitious. The youngest member of the Carmichael family was incredibly driven in school. She had gotten straight A’s since elementary school. In eighth grade, she was elected treasurer for student council. When Zoey had called him about being a partner in a coffee shop slash theater that was being renovated, Austin wasn’t surprised. The only thing he had been surprised about was that Lex Luthor was involved.

“I was surprised when I got a call from your office,” Lex greets when Austin walks into the mansion’s library.

“I’m here on the behalf of a client,” Austin replies, sitting down in one of the arm chairs in front Lex’s desk.

Lex frowns. Now it was his turn to be confused. And he didn't like to be confused. "I think you're mistaken, Mr. Wells. I would know if I was doing business with one of your clients.” Austin smirks. People rarely got the upper hand when it came to the Luthors. He pulls out the contract and places it in front of Lex. He watches as the younger man picks up the contract and reads over it. “I hate to break it to you, but I’m not in business with whoever Zoey York is. The only Zoey that I know of is Zoey Kent.”

Austin chuckles. “The Kents are Zoey’s godparents. Her last name is York. And her parents are Shannon Carmichael and Matthew York.”

Lex mentally curses himself. He had never paid much attention to the young blonde. He was more intrigued by Clark, given how they had met. The number of times he had interacted with Zoey was something he could count on one hand.

“Zoey’s good at blending in,” Austin says. He motions to the contract. “That essentially protects everyone involved in this business venture. You each get an equal share.”

“What you mean is that this contract protects Zoey.”

“She is my client, Lex. But it protects everyone. Zoey insisted on it.”

Lex picks up a pen and signs the contract. It was out of character for him to sign a contract without having his lawyers pick through every detail. But given what he knew about Clark and the Kents, he was sure that Zoey was an honest person.

~*~

Austin stares at the window of the Metropolis skyline. Ever since Max had asked him to be Zoey’s attorney and to keep an eye on her when he couldn’t do it himself, Austin had quickly moved up in his law firm. His boss had been excited when he brought on Zoey as a client and had even tried to poach the young heiress, but Max had put a stop to that. After that, rich clients in the city had signed up with him so fast he was given his own office and a pay raise, something that didn’t endear him to the other second year associates.

Austin takes a sip of his whiskey. “Austin, I wasn’t expecting you,” Max greets over the phone.

“I thought you should know that Zoey is exactly how you predicted she would be,” Austin tells his former lover.

Max sighs. “I knew it would only be a matter of time.”

“She’s part owner of a new coffee shop slash bookstore in Smallville.”

“Who are the other owners?”

“Lana Lang, a girl Zoey goes to school with. And Lex Luthor.”

“What the fuck does Lex Luther have to do with Smallville?”

“Lionel Luthor made him head of the a fertilizer plant in town. Apparently, Lex is friends with Clark Kent.”

Max laughs. “So, Lex is in charge of a shit factory and somehow Zoey got him to be a partner in a cafe?”

“She’s ambitious.”

~*~

“So, who did you get in our class biography paper,” Zoey asks, sitting down next to Mike. She notices Shane and a few other football players watching them. Zoey rolls her eyes and turns to Mike. “I got you. So, it’ll be an easy A. We’ll just hang out and then I’ll write the paper later.” She notices the upset look on Mike’s face. “Is everything okay, Mike?”

“My mom got arrested last night,” Mike softly says. “She had two ounces of meth on her. So, she’ll be going to prison for a long time. My dad is driving out from Wichita today. I’m moving. This weekend.”

Zoey grabs his hand. “Is there anything I can do?”

Mike shakes his head. “No.” He holds out a piece of paper. “I got Pete Ross.”

Zoey grabs his paper and hands him her wrinkled up piece of paper. “There. Now, you have to write a paper on yourself.”

Mike lays his head on Zoey’s shoulder. “I hate packing.”

“Everyone hates packing. You just pick the things that are most important to you and that you absolutely need.” Zoey glances at her watch and sighs. “I need to go to the Talon. Do you want to come and see how Lana is doing with the contractors?”

Mike sits up and stares at his best friend. “I still can’t believe you’re going into business with Lana Lang. I mean, I can understand Lex, but I don’t get Lana.”

Zoey smiles as she stands up. “Believe me, I still can’t believe it either.”

~*~

Zoey and Mike walk up to the Talon where Clark and Lana were talking. Zoey and Mike had spent most of the afternoon packing up his mom’s house and getting his stuff ready for when his dad arrived from Wichita. “Lex,” Lana greets. Zoey and Mike turn to see Lex walking towards them on Main Street. “What are you doing here?”

“Contractor called, said he had an estimate. Wanted me to meet him here,” Lex replies. Zoey opens the door and the group walks into find a man sprawled out on the floor. “What the hell?”

Mike walks over to the man and kneels down next to him. “Sir, are you okay?”

The contractor groans. “Yeah,” he answers, as Mike helps him sit up. “I - I came in the back door and some guy jumped me and forced me to let him in, then bashed me over the head.”

“Did you see his face,” Clark questions.

“No.”

Zoey notices a box sitting on the counter. She walks over to it and opens it up to reveal a hand sitting inside. “Whoa.”

“That wasn’t there when I locked up,” Lana informs them. “I’ll go call the police.”

Zoey finds a name tag on the box’s lid. She turn to Lex and shows him the box lid. “Who the fuck did you piss off?” Mike glances in the box and frowns. He starts to reach into the box, but Zoey grabs his wrist. “Dude, don’t contaminate the crime scene.”

“There’s no blood,” Mike points out. “Cleanly severed. This was done post mortem. And there’s a pinkie ring.”

Zoey turns to Lex. “Know any one who wears a pinkie ring?”

Lex runs a hand over his face. “Zero consequences,” he mutters before walking around.

Mike leans close to Zoey. “Now, I’m even more upset that I’m moving. We got some interesting stuff going on around here now.”

~*~

Zoey looks up from her science textbook when she hears a buzzing. Her Blackberry was vibrating across her desk. Seeing the number on the screen, Zoey glances down the hallway before closing her bedroom door. She grabs her phone. “Ollie, I’m fine,” she says, not giving the caller a chance to greet her.

“Zo, you can not be going into business with Lex Luthor,” Oliver Queen tells her. Oliver was her oldest friend. She had known him her entire life. After his parents died in a plane crash, Oliver had lived with Zoey and her parents for a few years until her own parents died in a car accident after being hit by a drunk driver.

“Ollie, I’m not a little girl anymore,” Zoey argues. “I grew up while you were stranded on that island.”

Oliver had vanished three years ago, after taking his family’s yacht on a high school graduation trip. It was only the previous summer that he had been rescued from the island.

Zoey bites her lip as she slowly enters the hospital room. It had been nearly three years since she had seen Oliver. She didn’t know what to expect. She wondered if he remembered her or even cared about her. There were various tubes hooked up to her childhood friend. There were scars over his very tanned body. “Hi,” she quietly greets. Her grip on the plastic container of homemade oreos tightens.

Oliver smiles. “You know, Zo, I’m not going to bite.”

She lets out a relived breath and makes her way across the room. She sets the container on the nightstand and climbs on the bed to tightly embrace him. Zoey buries her face in his neck. “You’re not allowed to go on a boat ever again. Promise?”

Oliver wraps an arm around her back. “Promise.”

“I missed you.”

Oliver rests a cheek against the top of her head. “I missed you too, Zo.” He pulls back and lightly touches her glasses. “Since when do you wear glasses?”

Zoey rolls her eyes. “Since I have crappy eyesight.”

Oliver sighs. “I know, Zo. I just…I don’t want you to get pulled into something that you shouldn’t be apart of.”

“How did you find out in the first place?”

“Max was bragging about you following in the Carmichael footsteps at a dinner party.”

“Since when do you go to dinner parties?”

“Max insisted that I go. Said it was a good way to reintroduce me to Star City’s social scene. And that I needed to stop hiding in my house all day.”

Zoey bites her lip. “Are you going to the Wayne Foundation gala?”

“No way would I be caught there. Besides for being a teenage billionaire, Bruce is way to dark and brooding. Kid needs to lighten up.”

Zoey rolls her eyes. “I think after everything that Bruce has been through, he’s allowed to be a little dark and brooding.”

“He still needs to light up a little.”

~*~

Zoey walks through the crowd at the grand opening of the Talon. She finds Mike sitting in a corner with an unhappy look on his face. She takes a seat next to him, before glancing around to see if anyone was watching them. She pulls out a flask and pours some whiskey into the two coffee cups she had brought to the table. She hands Mike one. “I grabbed some of my uncle’s top shelf whiskey over the summer,” she whispers.

Mike takes a sip and coughs. “That is really good,” he tells her. “Way better than the stuff we’d sneak from my mom’s stash.”

“I think anything is better than your mom’s stash.”

“True.”

“My dad’s coming down in the morning with a moving truck. He has everything ready for me at his house. Monday, I start at a new school. Being the new kid sucks.”

“It does.”

“I came out to my dad last night. I was hoping that he wouldn’t want me to live with him. He’s very supportive.”

Zoey grabs his hand. “Mike, so many people would kill to have such a supportive dad. He just wants what’s best for you.”

“What’s best is for me to stay here.” Mike shakes his head and finishes his coffee in a couple of gulps. He stands up. “I’m gonna head home. I’ll see you…well, I don’t know when I’ll see you again, Zoey. Bye.”

Zoey watches as Mike walks out of the Talon. She finishes her coffee and observes the happy people in the Talon. A buzzing comes from her pocket and she pulls out her Blackberry. “Hello,” she answers without glancing at the screen.

“I already talked to Martha and Jonathan about it, but you’re coming with me to the Wayne Foundation Gala,” Max greets. “Get a weekend bag ready because I’ll meet you at the private airport in Metropolis in a few hours.”

Zoey blinks. “Uncle Max, I don’t have anything to wear.”

“We’ll get that taken care of in Gotham.”

Zoey sighs. “What time do I need to be at the airport?”

I won’t leave I can’t hide I cannot be Until you’re resting here with me

#smallville #series rewrite #original female character #original character

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bentonpena · 5 years

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The Art of Topophilia: 7 Ways to Love the Place You Live

The Art of Topophilia: 7 Ways to Love the Place You Live http://bit.ly/2mVChGJ

If you don’t know where you are, you don’t know who are. –Wendell Berry

As time went by, I also realized that the particular place I’d chosen was less important than the fact that I’d chosen and focused my life around it. Although [where I live] has taken on great significance for me, it’s no more inherently beautiful or meaningful than any other place on earth. What makes a place special is the way it buries itself inside the heart, not whether it’s flat or rugged, rich or austere, gentle or harsh, warm or cold, wild or tame. Every place, like every person, is elevated by the love and respect shown toward it, and by the way in which its bounty is received. –Richard Nelson, The Island Within

Have you recently moved somewhere new, and still feel out of place? Or maybe you’ve been residing somewhere for years, decades even, and yet haven’t developed a sense of being rooted there. You may live in a town or city, but don’t feel you belong to a real community; you don’t feel as if you’re embedded within a context of meaningful relationships, environment, and culture.

While “at-homeness” might seem to be something that will come automatically with the passage of time, like every good thing in life, topophilia — a love of place — takes intentionality to develop.

Like coming to love another person, developing affinity for a certain place involves intimately getting to know it. If your current home base might be compared to a lady, you want to learn all the details about her, whether profound or mundane. You want to know her background, how she came to be the way she is. You want to enjoy the prominent foot she puts forward, while uncovering her little-known secrets. You want to really come to an appreciation for her strengths, not only to most fully enjoy them, but as a buffer that creates more tolerance for her flaws.

It’s not only possible to kindle this kind of topophilic love affair with “sexier” places chock full of well-hyped advantages, but also with so-called undesirable communities that aren’t on the cultural radar. Just as people who may initially appear lowly and unappealing, but have warm and welcoming personalities, come to seem more attractive the more we get to know them, so too can sleepier, less vaunted locales.

Even if you don’t think the place you’re currently residing is your “one and only,” to have and to hold ‘til death do you part, it’s still worth trying to develop a deeper relationship with it. A strong sense of place and rootedness is a worthy satisfaction to pursue, even if you know it won’t last. Cliche as it is, you really ought to try to bloom where you’re planted, for however long you’re planted there.

I know it’s possible to feel like casual, distant roommates with your current hometown, rather than intimate partners in life; even after 7 years of living in the Denver area, I have sometimes still felt like a foreign interloper here. But that’s diminished the more I’ve taken proactive steps to put down roots. Here are 7 I suggest to sink your own real or adopted hometown deeper into your heart.

1. Get to know the history of where you live.

A sure recipe for feeling like a transient spectator somewhere, is to treat a place as if it only sprang into existence once you moved there. By instead making a concerted effort to get to know the history of your neighborhood, town, and state, you’ll gain a greater gratitude for it, feel more like you belong, deepen your understanding of why things are the way they are, and develop more confidence in navigating its contours — both literally and figuratively.

Perhaps the easiest place to start in discovering the past of a place is by reading. Local bookstores often carry lesser-known regional histories that sometimes get as local as individual neighborhoods. Be sure to even delve into novels set in the city or state you live in; reading Centennial and Plainsong did more to help me understand Colorado than just about any non-fiction book could have.

It takes more than reading to get a feel for a place’s history though. That’s just a start. Visit state and national parks and monuments (and battlefields and trails), stroll through the nearest history center/museum, take a guided walking tour of downtown, and just generally get your feet on the ground to do some firsthand exploring (see #2). Don’t be afraid to drive two hours to go see something for one; even the drive time itself will enhance your understanding of the place you live — remember, there’s power in liminal spaces.

2. Explore on Foot or Bike

Few things will open your eyes to the details of your city like exploring its streets, neighborhoods, and trails via the power of human locomotion.

More days than not, I get outside for a walk, run, or bike ride. These excursions have helped me see the real beauty of where I live on a slower and smaller scale (that is, beyond just the mountains on the not-too-distant horizon). I’ve discovered little streams and patches of meadows riddled with wildflowers, as well as a bunch of small parks and playgrounds for the kids that I otherwise would never have found.

Carried along by foot- or pedal-power, you’ll naturally come to notice things that you would have missed had you been traveling by car. You’ll be able to really look around and engage all your senses. You’ll say hello to the people you come across, who are in fact your neighbors, even if you’re a few miles from home. Plus, it’s just fun to look around while walking — at the houses, at the sky, at the flora and fauna.

3. Embark on Microadventures (Even to Chintzy Places)

Even in your backyard there are new adventures, new sights, new perspectives: you just have to make the small effort to go and discover them. –Alastair Humphreys

Microadventures, as coined by modern-day explorer Alastair Humphreys, are expeditions in and around your locale that take only a few hours to a day. It could be a nighttime bike ride, a walk on a new trail, a visit to an overlooked museum, or any number of other outings. The idea is that adventures don’t have to be grand in scope to be fun and fulfilling.

A few years back the McKay family took up the habit of weekly microadventures, and Brett and Kate found that they “really enjoyed exploring more of [our] local community, and ended up feeling more connected to, and pride in, living in Oklahoma.”

Make it a goal to get out for a small adventure in your area once a week. Drive to a tacky roadside attraction, look at a map (a paper map!) and pick a park or small museum to visit, rent a canoe or kayak and paddle a nearby river or lake. All of these things will enhance your understanding of your community, and further your ties to it.

One of the very best ways to develop topophilia is to get out into the nature of a place, and really experience its unique weather, landscape, and environment. There’s something about getting the dirt of the terrain up into your nostrils, and coming to know how the air feels and smells at dawn and dusk, that really moves a place into the marrow of your bones.

But don’t neglect an area’s less wild and more popular spots either. When you live somewhere, it’s easy to take its tourist attractions for granted; if you’re not careful, the people who regularly visit you might come to know the cool things to do in the area before you do! You should know your hometown so well that you become an expert in making recommendations to your out-of-town guests as to what things to do there and what things to avoid. At the same time, being well acquainted with your city’s must-see attractions initiates you into a sort of club amongst the locals too, and you can actually end up feeling left out if you’ve not done them — hence our own family’s continued embarrassment of having never experienced Casa Bonita here in Denver.

4. Read the Local Paper

Most towns, even the small ones, have a local weekly newspaper. They’re often a touch boring and the writing sometimes leaves something to be desired, but they’re a treasure trove of the ins and outs of what’s going on in your community.

Be it information about volunteering, fun events and festivals on the calendar, restaurant openings, job listings, or simply news that might not be important to the larger region but sure is in your neck of the woods — the local newspaper is highly undervalued.

In the past, the little newspaper that lands on our driveway on Thursday mornings has been relegated to the firestarter pile without so much as a glance. But lately I’ve been making an effort to at least skim through it, and I sure feel that much more like a real local rather than a transient interloper.

5. Volunteer

If you remain a “consumer” within your city, you end up only seeing one “strata” of it — socially, geographically, and experientially. A great way to get more immersed in a place — to get a behind-the-scenes look at some of the locations and institutions you might otherwise just use superficially or pass by altogether — is to volunteer.

Teaching at church, tutoring at a school, coaching your kids’ little league team, helping at a soup kitchen, sorting books at the local library (I do this and it’s great fun) . . . whatever it is, your town has needs, and you certainly have skills that can help fill those needs. Not only will you be providing a service, but you’ll see immense benefits yourself too. It’ll be impossible to not feel a greater sense of care and responsibility towards the place you live and towards the people you live near. At the same time, you’ll meet different kinds of people than you might otherwise rub shoulders with, as well as like-minded and equally passionate fellow volunteers who might become your good friends.

6. Be a Regular Somewhere

In our younger days, my wife and I liked to venture out to as many new places as we could — breweries, coffee shops, trails, etc. While some novelty is still fun and important to us, what’s held even greater reward has been in becoming regulars at some favorite local spots.

You’ll get to know people — both employees and regular patrons — and you’ll get to hear the scuttlebutt around town. When you frequent a place, you won’t mind paying the higher prices of independent shops and you’ll even come to tip more at restaurants and coffee shops because you genuinely care about the people whose livelihood depends on your business.

Beyond that, you’ll gain a special sense of belonging. When the barkeep or barista asks how your kids are doing and comps you a drink now and then, you’re conferred a certain status that can keep you powerfully rooted to the place you live. One of our greatest human desires is simply to be known; being a regular helps scratch that itch.

7. Find Other Ways to Meet People in Your Community

Many of these things — volunteering, frequenting a local shop, even having a regular walking route — will inherently help you meet people. But sometimes you just need to intentionally get out and see some local faces. Attend your neighborhood block parties (even when you don’t want to), sign up for the 5K happening downtown, chaperone a kids’ field trip if you’re able. There are so many things you can do to just get out there in meatspace.

And really, you don’t even have to make friends (right away, at least). Just knowing the faces in your community offers some sense of recognition and makes saying hi at the grocery store a little friendlier instead of a little awkward. Research says we come to like people out of sheer familiarity alone. There are plenty of people in our neighborhood who I wouldn’t consider good friends, but that I can recognize when out and about and have a friendly conversation with. It’s just another one of those things that helps me feel like I belong here — more rooted — and therefore increases my feeling of topophilia for this northwest suburb of Denver; though we were strangers when we met, the more I get to know her, the more I’ve come to love her.

Listen to our podcast with Melody Warnick about the art and science of loving where you live:

The post The Art of Topophilia: 7 Ways to Love the Place You Live appeared first on The Art of Manliness.

via The Art of Manliness http://bit.ly/2NeG3FZ October 2, 2019 at 01:24AM

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goldeagleprice · 6 years

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Letters to the Editor (October 16, 2018)

(Image courtesy usmint.gov)

Palladium Eagle sellout not result of favoritism

Small town dealer response to: “Palladium Eagle sellout and dealer offer upsetting” (from Sept. 14, 2018, online letter to editor that I read).

Don’t get mad at the U.S. Mint, as no favoritism was extended to dealers. Several large dealers offered to buy the 2018-W palladium Eagle coins from their smaller dealer and direct mail client lists. We sold ours for a quick turnover profit.

Sit back and see if the prices drop and then buy on the aftermarket to save money, or wait a year or two and buy the coin if it has a proven market demand.

Fred Beihl Rare Coins, Auctioneer Stewartstown, Pa.

Hobby undermined by 70 points; what will 100 do?

This question has pushed my hot button. One thousand times no!

The present 70-point scale has done more to undermine the coin collecting hobby than any other past decision. By making grading so difficult and complex, novice collectors are easily scared off from the hobby. The system has generated tens of millions of dollars for grading services at the expense of collectors and investors.

Investors and novice collectors have been harmed by overgraded certified coins issued by fly-by-night grading services. The system has given a bad name to the hobby, resulted in the departure of many collectors and discouraged potential new ones. I attribute the long-term decline of the hobby as due to excessive valuations precipitated by grading mania.

In fact, I decided to never join the American Numismatic Association precisely because of its decision to adopt the 70-point scale. The system has resulted in widespread grading abuse and misrepresentation of value. For years, I have watched people argue about whether a coin certified as an MS65 really isn’t an MS64.

Now, what will a 100-point system do? It will make all existing slabs obsolete. Those wanting to participate in the grading game will pay to have all their coins graded again.

Collectors who have figured out the current system will have to learn how to grade under the new system. More of the current pool of collectors will abandon the hobby. Investors will more easily be ripped off. New collectors will be less likely to stay in the hobby. More arguments about grading will occur.

After over 30 years of professional certification, I still prefer to buy uncertified coins in order to avoid arguments about the designated grades on the slabs. Collectors are not capable of greater grading precision without extensive, expensive training. Why take the fun out of the hobby?

If the objections I have raised are insufficient to kill the idea, go ahead and try it. I guarantee that I will not buy any coins graded using a new 100-point scale. Nor will I do business with anyone who trades in coins graded using a 100-point scale. If coin dealers universally decide to go with it, I will leave the hobby.

I remember visiting a dealer who graded his own coins rather than pay a certification service. I immediately departed his table when I saw a Morgan dollar graded MS62.5.

I was going to argue that the coin was only an MS62.4, but I knew that I would be wasting my time.

Bruce Frohman Modesto Calif.

No to 100, but get rid of present grading system, too

My opinion on this subject is completely opposite. We should not only avoid adopting a new grading scale but also eliminate the current one altogether. I’ll explain why I feel this way and why it’s made me stop collecting/investing in rare coins.

Coin grading is very subjective. You can get a dozen top graders in a room from the top grading companies (NGC, PCGS, etc.), and maybe two or three will agree on a specific grade. I’ve held thousands of graded coins in all grades and no two graded alike will ever have the same look, quality, etc., especially between two grading companies.

Also, the grading companies set the pricing standards based on their graded coins. Specifically, PCGS on its website states: “The PCGS Price Guide prices apply only to PCGS-graded coins. The PCGS Price Guide is a guide to assist the coin buying public in determining values for all important United States rare coins. Before you use the Price Guide, you should read the following information very carefully.”

If there’s a standard grading range, why isn’t the pricing standard per grade? Why would an NGC coin MS65 be less than a PCGS coin graded MS65 or vice versa? Another problem is coin graders are also coin dealers. How can you have the foxes guarding the hen house?

Coin grading was established to allow the dealers to extract more money from collectors and investors. This, in my opinion, is why the market is so soft now and has been for a long time even in this booming economy. Coin grading has taken the fun out of collecting and made it a business for the rich.

Coin grading should consist of only genuine or counterfeit. Rarity should drive the price and what each individual is willing to pay based on his own opinion of the coin for his collection.

Greg Bose Torrance, Calif.

Gong’s passing reminds us that friends are important

In candor, I have to admit that most of our exchanges and discussions that the late Lee H. Gong (1950-2018) and I had usually were in argument and disagreement, quite heated and temperamental.

This may account for Lee’s attempt on the “Queen of the Mist” in Niagara Falls, Ontario, Canada, to push me over. For years after, Lee would say, “didn’t push hard enough!”

But, through the 30-plus years that we were involved with our world of money, we remained committed to our hobby and to each other as friends.

There were rituals that we shared; our road trips, mostly reminiscing about the hobbyists that we had known, keeping our compatriot Lloyd G. Chan wearing headphones, and visiting coin shops.

Of course, since I was always the driver, in Lee’s huge GM full-sized pickup, it never failed: “stop, here’s a baseball field.” One of Lee’s passions was baseball; he once, during the 2006 American Numismatic Association Denver, Colo., World’s Fair of Money, endured with me at the then third-longest game in Major League baseball!

While baseball was a passion, Lee’s true love was error coins. For example, at the annual San Jose (California) Coin Club Show for years, he would set up his quite informative exhibit, staffing all three days of the show. At times, I would be positioned next to him at my combination table, witnessing Lee spending hours and hours expounding on error coins to anyone at his table.

In 2005, I was able to have Lee join the Babe Ruth of Errors’ team (his term) during the ANA’s San Francisco, Calif., World’s Fair of Money: the late Alan Herbert, Fred Weinberg, Syd Kass and Xan Chamberlain. The only time these five greats were ever together, sharing their error coin passion.

His other devotion and sincere support was to his beloved Redwood Empire (Santa Rosa, Calif.) Coin Club, for which he must have served over two decades as vice president and was partner in the dynamic duo with its long-serving President Merle V. Avila. They created an exemplary and enthused local coin club that might be the standard for what a good local coin club should be.

In fact, Lee preferred local coin clubs. His defense was simple: They are distant from the pantheon of the national elitist organizations plus the major auction houses with their glossy catalogs, or the established regional groups. There are the local coin clubs, as Lee would remark, “the grass-roots” of our hobby, with numerous local activists in the trenches, as he would add.

Lest it be forgotten, Lee’s other devotion was to the now closed G&G Market, his family-owned and operated business in Sonoma County for over a half a century, plus the only supermarket to issue its own wooden money and silver rounds. Many in Sonoma County grew up shopping only at G&G Market.

I could ramble further. In the end, I state that Lee and I were friends and equally intense servants for our world of money hobby. His passing is my loss and burden.

I am loth to close; yet, this quotation gives me hope and gives testimonial to our friendship:

“The bond between friends cannot be broken by chance; no interval of time or space can destroy it. Not even death itself can part true friends.”

RIP, Lee, My Friend

Michael S. Turrini Vallejo, Calif.

Address letters to Editor, Numismatic News, 5225 Joerns Drive, Suite 2, Stevens Point, WI 54481. All letters must be signed and include a return address. Numismatic News reserves the right to edit all letters. E-mail should be sent to [email protected]. Include your city and state in your email.

This article was originally printed in Numismatic News. >> Subscribe today.

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newstfionline · 6 years

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The best way to spend less? Cut back on the big stuff!

Get Rich Slowly, 19 Mar 2018

You don’t need a high income to achieve Financial Independence.

Making more money helps, sure, but if you’re diligent about cutting costs, it’s possible to reach financial freedom on even an average salary.

I want you to meet my friend, John. John is an 81-year-old retired shop teacher. He’s a millionaire--but you’d never know it.

John started life as a carpenter. In his thirties, he went back to school to become a teacher. He spent the next twenty years teaching shop at a junior high school in a poor part of town. He retired to financial freedom at age 58. He never had a huge income and he didn’t inherit a fortune.

So, how’d he get rich? He pinched his pennies and doted on his dollars. John achieved Financial Independence by ruthlessly cutting costs.

John doesn’t live in a mansion. He lives in the same small ranch house he bought for $10,500 in 1962. He paid off his mortgage early, and has now lived in the place for 53 years!

John doesn’t drive a brand-new Mercedes or BMW. He drives a 1998 Chevy minivan he bought for cheap five years ago. It’s ugly, but he doesn’t care. It meets his needs and he has no plans to upgrade.

John doesn’t take lavish vacations. He spends his summers in southeast Alaska on an old 38-foot fishing boat that he bought with cash in 1995. He spends his winters doing volunteer work on farms and ranches in New Zealand.

John doesn’t like to dine in fancy restaurants. He’d rather make his own meals at home. “For me, restaurants are a waste of money,” he says. “I don’t appreciate them.”

We’re constantly bombarded by messages that wealthy people enjoy lavish lifestyles filled with luxury. From my experience meeting with dozens of millionaires over the past decade, this kind of lifestyle is the exception, not the rule.

Most wealthy people I know are like John. They’re quiet millionaires. They practice stealth wealth.

But don’t just take my word for it. Let’s look at what the experts say.

In The Millionaire Next Door, authors Thomas Stanley and William Danko share what they learned through years of academic research into the habits of America’s wealthy. Here’s one key takeaway:

What are three words that profile the affluent? FRUGAL FRUGAL FRUGAL…Being frugal is the cornerstone of wealth-building.

They write that millionaires tend to “play great offense” with money--their incomes are much higher than average--but they also “play great defense”. They’re not big spenders. They’re thrifty. They opt out of consumer culture, making purchases based on their personal needs and wants rather than status and fashion.

“Few people can sustain profligate spending habits and simultaneously build wealth,” write the authors. “[Millionaires] became millionaires by budgeting and controlling expenses, and they maintain their affluent status the same way.”

Study after study shows the same thing. To get and stay rich, you have to manage your lifestyle. You can’t outearn dumb spending.

Great. You get it. To achieve your goals, you’ve got to cut costs. But how?

There are two schools of thought:

Most money writers emphasize saving on small stuff. They teach how to clip coupons, conserve electricity, and spend less on entertainment. These small wins are usually quick and easy to achieve.

A few folks urge readers to pursue “big wins”. They argue that the quickest way to wealth is to spend less on big-ticket items like your home and your car. The downside to this approach? Big wins take a lot of work, and opportunities to pursue them are rare.

I believe that a smart money manager does both. She practices thrift on a daily basis and she seizes every opportunity to slash spending on the big stuff.

You could save maybe 50 cents a day by drinking a glass of water instead of a can of soda. That doesn’t mean much if you only do it once, but over the course of an entire year that single change would increase your personal profit by nearly $200. When taken together, many such small economies make a noticeable difference.

Small amounts do matter.

Rather than provide some made-up examples of how much you could save, here are actual numbers from my own life. When I dug out of $35,000 in debt a few years ago, I decided to:

Switch my cable TV package from $65.82 per month to $12.01 per month, saving $645.72 every year.

Get rid of my home phone line (roughly $46.50 per month) and my subscription to Audible ($21.95 per month), saving $821.40 per year.

Cancel my magazine and newspaper subscriptions, saving $137 per year.

Make use of the public library instead of shopping at bookstores, saving $391.95 in the first year.

Plant a vegetable garden to grow my own produce, saving more than $300 per year. (Yes, I’m such a nerd that I kept a spreadsheet to track how much I saved!)

With these changes alone, I increased my cash flow by $2,281.61 per year. That’s an additional profit of almost $200 every month.

You won’t get rich--slowly or otherwise--by cutting your cable bill or growing your own tomatoes. But when small changes are a part of an ongoing campaign of saving and investing, they can bring big changes indeed!

True story: I recently had a friend ask me how to get out of debt. “You can start by getting rid of your $200 cable package,” I told him. “No way!” he said. “That’s the first thing everyone says, and it’ll be the last to go. TV is important to me.” Right. More important than being debt-free, apparently.

While it’s important to save money on everyday stuff, it’s even more important to watch how much you spend on major purchases. By making smart choices on big-ticket items, you can save thousands of dollars in one blow. If you spend fifty grand less when you buy a house, that’s fifty grand (or more!) you never have to earn.

Housing: Housing is the biggest expense for most Americans--and by a wide margin. According to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics’ 2015 Consumer Expenditure Survey, the typical American household spends 32.8% of its income on housing, which includes mortgage (or rent), maintenance, insurance, interest, and utilities.

In an ideal world, you’d slash your housing expense by buying an affordable home in a city with a low cost of living.

While relocating to a cheaper home in a cheaper city would probably provide a huge financial reward, it’s not exactly easy. A more practical alternative might be to move within your current city. Sell your home (or move out of your rental) and choose something more affordable.

Think about it: If you’re an average American who spends $1534 per month on a place to live, dropping that expense by 10% would save you $150 per housing payment. Drop it by 30% and you’ll save more than $5000 per year!

Transportation: Transportation is our second-largest expense in the U.S. We spend an average of $792 per month (17 percent of the typical budget) to get around, including vehicle payments, gasoline, insurance, and repairs. I know Americans love their automobiles. They’re loath to let them go, even in the face of logic. But imagine how much you could save if you could cut your car costs in half! How do you do that?

Sell your current car. Replace it with a used vehicle, one that’s fuel efficient. (Side benefit: An older, used vehicle will cost less to insure!)

Drive your car only when necessary. When possible, bike or walk to reach your destination. (Side benefit: Increased fitness, which also saves you money!)

Make use of public transportation. (Side benefit: Time to read!)

When I recommend people change the way they get around, I’m usually met with a wall of objections. But let me suggest that instead of looking for reasons you can’t do this, instead look for ways you can. You’ll save buckets of money.

Other expenses: Together, housing and transportation consume half of the average American budget. There are enormous opportunities to save if you choose to economize on these two categories. But you can achieve big wins in other areas too.

The Consumer Expenditure Survey shows that the typical household spent $1846 on clothing in 2015, $4342 on health care, $2842 on entertainment, and $7023 on food.

Because each of us is different and we spend in different ways, opportunities for big wins vary from person to person. After tracking my spending for the last half of 2013, for instance, I realized that I was spending way too much on travel. In 2014, I cut my travel costs in half. This allowed me to save money for other goals, such as buying a motorhome.

The Best Way to Spend Less: A few years ago, I asked my friend John if he had advice for young people who want to retire early.

“Here’s the secret to financial freedom,” he told me. “I don’t care how much you make--you spend less than you earn. You don’t have to like it. You just have to do it. Because that is the secret.”

The best way to spend less is to optimize the big stuff.

I’m not saying you shouldn’t make your own laundry detergent or plant a vegetable garden. By all means, do these things! But understand that if all you do is the small stuff, your only hope is to get rich slowly. You can do better.

#frugality #cutting costs #personal finance

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foursproutwealth-blog · 6 years

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The best way to spend less? Cut back on the big stuff!

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The best way to spend less? Cut back on the big stuff!

Important note: If you received this article by email, you are subscribed to the old daily GRS email list, which is going away soon. If you’d like to read Get Rich Slowly by email, subscribe to the new, weekly GRS newsletter here.

You don’t need a high income to achieve Financial Independence.

Making more money helps, sure, but if you’re diligent about cutting costs, it’s possible to reach financial freedom on even an average salary.

I want you to meet my friend, John. John is an 81-year-old retired shop teacher. He’s a millionaire — but you’d never know it.

So, how’d he get rich? He pinched his pennies and doted on his dollars. John achieved Financial Independence by ruthlessly cutting costs.

John doesn’t live in a mansion. He lives in the same small ranch house he bought for $10,500 in 1962. He paid off his mortgage early, and has now lived in the place for 53 years!

John doesn’t like to dine in fancy restaurants. He’d rather make his own meals at home. “For me, restaurants are a waste of money,” he says. “I don’t appreciate them.”

Does John sound like a typical millionaire to you? If you were to believe TV, movies, and magazines, you might think most millionaires live like this:

Most wealthy people I know are like John. They’re quiet millionaires. They practice stealth wealth.

But don’t just take my word for it. Let’s look at what the experts say.

Lifestyles of the Rich and Fameless

In The Millionaire Next Door, authors Thomas Stanley and William Danko share what they learned through years of academic research into the habits of America’s wealthy. Here’s one key takeaway:

What are three words that profile the affluent? FRUGAL FRUGAL FRUGAL…Being frugal is the cornerstone of wealth-building.

They write that millionaires tend to “play great offense” with money — their incomes are much higher than average — but they also “play great defense”. They’re not big spenders. They’re thrifty. They opt out of consumer culture, making purchases based on their personal needs and wants rather than status and fashion.

Study after study shows the same thing. To get and stay rich, you have to manage your lifestyle. You can’t outearn dumb spending.

Great. You get it. To achieve your goals, you’ve got to cut costs. But how?

There are two schools of thought:

Most money writers emphasize saving on small stuff. They teach how to clip coupons, conserve electricity, and spend less on entertainment. These small wins are usually quick and easy to achieve.

I believe that a smart money manager does both. She practices thrift on a daily basis and she seizes every opportunity to slash spending on the big stuff.

Frugality is an Important Part of Personal Finance

Small amounts do matter.

Rather than provide some made-up examples of how much you could save, here are actual numbers from my own life. When I dug out of $35,000 in debt a few years ago, I decided to:

Switch my cable TV package from $65.82 per month to $12.01 per month, saving $645.72 every year.

Get rid of my home phone line (roughly $46.50 per month) and my subscription to Audible ($21.95 per month), saving $821.40 per year.

Cancel my magazine and newspaper subscriptions, saving $137 per year.

Make use of the public library instead of shopping at bookstores, saving $391.95 in the first year.

Plant a vegetable garden to grow my own produce, saving more than $300 per year. (Yes, I’m such a nerd that I kept a spreadsheet to track how much I saved!)

With these changes alone, I increased my cash flow by $2,281.61 per year. That’s an additional profit of almost $200 every month.

You won’t get rich — slowly or otherwise — by cutting your cable bill or growing your own tomatoes. But when small changes are a part of an ongoing campaign of saving and investing, they can bring big changes indeed!

The Magic of Thinking Big

Housing

Housing is the biggest expense for most Americans — and by a wide margin. According to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics’ 2015 Consumer Expenditure Survey, the typical American household spends 32.8% of its income on housing, which includes mortgage (or rent), maintenance, insurance, interest, and utilities.

In an ideal world, you’d slash your housing expense by buying an affordable home in a city with a low cost of living.

“If you’re not yet wealthy but want to be someday, never purchase a home that requires a mortgage that is more than twice your household’s annual realized income. Living in less costly areas can enable you to spend less and to invest more of your income. You will pay less for your home and correspondingly less for your property taxes. Your neighbors will be less likely to drive expensive motor vehicles. You will find it easier to keep up, even ahead, of the Joneses and still accumulate wealth.” — The Millionaire Next Door

Transportation

Transportation is our second-largest expense in the U.S. We spend an average of $792 per month (17 percent of the typical budget) to get around, including vehicle payments, gasoline, insurance, and repairs. I know Americans love their automobiles. They’re loath to let them go, even in the face of logic. But imagine how much you could save if you could cut your car costs in half! How do you do that?

Sell your current car. Replace it with a used vehicle, one that’s fuel efficient. (Side benefit: An older, used vehicle will cost less to insure!)

Drive your car only when necessary. When possible, bike or walk to reach your destination. (Side benefit: Increased fitness, which also saves you money!)

Make use of public transportation. (Side benefit: Time to read!)

Other expenses

Together, housing and transportation consume half of the average American budget. There are enormous opportunities to save if you choose to economize on these two categories. But you can achieve big wins in other areas too.

The Consumer Expenditure Survey shows that the typical household spent $1846 on clothing in 2015, $4342 on health care, $2842 on entertainment, and $7023 on food.

The Best Way to Spend Less

A few years ago, I asked my friend John if he had advice for young people who want to retire early.

“Here’s the secret to financial freedom,” he told me. “I don’t care how much you make — you spend less than you earn. You don’t have to like it. You just have to do it. Because that is the secret.”

The best way to spend less is to optimize the big stuff.

Exercise

Pull out your personal mission statement. With that in front of you, brainstorm ways to reduce your spending. No idea is too small. No idea is too big. No idea is too stupid. Do a rapid braindump of any (and all) actions you could take to cut costs. If all your spending were aligned with your goals and mission, where would the money go?

After you’re finished brainstorming, pick three specific ways — large or small — you’ll reduce spending starting this week. (Examples: I’ll walk to the grocery store. I’ll sign up for a library card. I’ll finally cancel my landline.) Also pick one “big win” that you will work to achieve in, say, the next two years. Make this a big, hairy audacious goal. (Example: We’ll go from a three-car family to a one-car family.)

Note: During the month of March, I’m migrating old Money Boss material to Get Rich Slowly — including the articles that describe the “Money Boss method”. This is the fifth of those articles.

Part one answered the question, “What is financial independence?”

Part two looked at why you should run your life like a business.

Part three explained how to write a personal mission statement.

Part four explored the importance of saving rate.

Look for further installments in the “Money Boss method” series twice a week until they’ve all been transferred from the old site.

The post The best way to spend less? Cut back on the big stuff! appeared first on Get Rich Slowly.

#Wealth

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foursprout-blog · 6 years