elegant purse

This is brief but the other day I was with my friend waiting in line for the self-checkout at target and there was a dude behind me carrying a basket full of frozen mince pies like a elegant and expensive purse. We ended up at a register across from the self-checkout this fellow used, and while my friend checked out I counted his mince pies. He bought 23 frozen mince pies and a pair of black socks.

Caught up in the moment.

Originally posted by shwaybum

Artist: Jay Park

Word Count: 1.7K

You were going through the web looking for gifts for Jays mother, you saw a nice purse that you loved and thought of getting it for her, you knew her taste was simple but elegant and that purse screamed that.

“Jay, what do you think of this, it’s pretty right” you sat next to Jay on the sofa and asked him, but he kept quiet and didn’t reply. 

Jay has been super quiet all day, and even when he came back home, dinner was silent and all you got from him are head nods or simple one worded replies, you thought maybe work is stressful and he isn’t feeling it.

“Jay” you said

“What” he said sharply which threw you off a little but chose to ignore it.

“I just wanted to show you this purse” you said calmly 

“Yeah, that’s all you ever do, just show me this and that” he said mumbling it under his breath

“What’s that supposed to mean”  you said confused at his outrage

“Don’t playing dumb, you always show me stuff and expect me to buy you everything, your always mentioning things you want, wanting me to get it for you, when I pay for the rent and I get this and that, buy you expensive gifts for your birthday and anniversary, and you still ask for more, your such a gold digger” he spat all that harshly at you, you stood there frozen from all this, you didn’t realize you were crying until you couldn’t see and it was blurry.

Jay snapped out of it when he saw your tears streaming down your face, he didn’t realize what just happened, his anger got the best of him and he said stuff he never really meant, but he was to caught up in the moment to realize, he left the house and slammed the door on his way out.

You didn’t understand what just happened, but it hit you hard when he called a gold digger, you went to your shared bedroom, packed your stuff and left. 

Later on that night Jay came back home and the house was dead silent, your usually up at this time watching tv or just simply doing anything, and this scared Jay, he had a bad feeling, he called for your name but there was no answer, he went to the bedroom and didn’t see your shoes or pursue, he then noticed a paper sitting on the bed. 

 Jay was hoping it wasn’t what he thought it was, he really didn’t want to read what’s in it, but he opened it anyways 

 Hi Jay… I just wanted to say I’m sorry if I was a burden on you, I didn’t know you felt like that, I never really wanted anything from you Jay, none of the expensive gifts or trips, and I told you from day one that I would pay for half the rent, but you insisted and said no, all I wanted was to have you by my side to love and support me. 

Jay I would live with you in a one bedroom apartment and that’s the least of my cares, I’m always thankful for everything you got me and did for me, but I never really wanted any of it. 

And about the purse I showed you I was just trying to get your opinion since I was getting it for your mother. Jay I never really meant it for you to get me stuff when I showed you anything, I just genuinely wanted your opinion. I’ll make sure you won’t see my face anymore if that’s what you really want, I’ll come and get my stuff when I find a place,

But I want you to know that I truly love you and care for you, I’m not leaving because I hate you, but you being happy is something I always want, , so if being with me isn’t making you happy I’ll leave and you don’t have to be miserable anymore and worry about it. -Ness

 Jay couldn’t believe what he just read, he threw the paper and quickly got his phone and started calling you, but your phone kept going to voice mail 

 “Please answer your phone” Jay kept saying, you didn’t have close friends so Jay didn’t know where you would go. You had went to a hotel for the night until you figured out your situation, you could see your phone kept lighting up which you figured would be Jay. You didn’t answer any of the calls because you needed to figure things out, after he stopped calling you listened to the voice mails he kept 

 “Babe, please answer your phone”, “Where are you, please please let me know” ,“I’m really worried, just let me know your fine”, “Can you please let me know where your at, I just really want to talk to you” he said and he sounded so desperate, so you decided to text him.

-what do you want Jay?? 

-I want to know where you at, and if your fine 

- I’m fine, don’t worry’ you texted him back 

-‘where are you, I want to talk to you, please.

 -I’m too tired Jay, I’ll text you in the morning.

 When the morning came, you stayed to your word and sent Jay a text with an address of a cafe, and what time he should be there. 

When you got to to the café you took a deep breath and then went in, Jay was sitting on a table that close to the corner side and he had his head lowered. He lifted his head when he heard the chair being moved, he looked up and a small smile appeared on his face after seeing you were fine.

“Hey” you said

“Hi” he replied

You sat down across from Jay and somehow it felt awkward, just because you guys are always joking and its never really awkward between you guys, you noticed he had a coffee in front of him so you thought of getting yourself one too.

“I’m gonna get a coffee” you said, stood up and was about to walk to the counter when Jay cut you

“I’ll get it for you” he said ready to get up “It’s fine, I can get myself one” you said and walked to the counter.

Jay could see how much his words affected you, and words that he never really meant, they were just words of anger. You used to let Jay buy you coffee or food, but now you won’t and it kills Jay seeing you like that, he feels so guilty for what he said. And Jay never really pitted you or anything like that, he just really loved treating you, he knows you could afford everything he gets you, but he still liked treating you and seeing the smile on your face. When you came back, you set your cup down and sat down.

“You said you wanted to talk, I’m listening” you said and Jay was caught off guard for a sec.

“Umm, yeah, first of all I want to apologize to you, I’m sorry for everything I said and did, I really didn’t mean any of that, I was just angry and I said stuff I didn’t mean.”

“Baby I know your not a gold digger and I know your not using me, I was just caught up in the moment I let these shit slip out without thinking, I love you so much and I hope you would forgive me”

“But Jay you really hurt me, you made me feel worthless and useless” you said and he could hear how you choked up, tears on the rim of you eyes.

“I’m so sorry I made you feel like way, you mean so much to me you don’t even know, your always by my side supporting me in everything I do, you never complain how I put work first sometimes, your always taking care of me making sure I eat and I’m not getting myself sick from overworking, baby you do so much for me I can never repay you, I’m so sorry I said those things I didn’t mean, if I could go back and change it I would, but I promise I’ll work on gaining your trust back” he said pleading for you to understand.

You thought about it, you were never planning on breaking up with Jay over something like that, just because you knew when someone is caught up in their anger and stress they say stuff they don’t really mean, but you also wanted to let him know he can’t do that every time.

“Jay if I give you this chance, you have to know that if your stressed or angry talk to me, let me help you feel better about it, I don’t want to feel useless to you”

“Baby I keep it to myself because I know how tired you are from work and I don’t want to add to that, but I promise from now on I will talk it out with you”

“Okay, that’s all I ask for” you said and smiled at him to let him know your not mad anymore

“Oh by the way, I have all the day cleared up so we could spend it together, so what do you want to do” he said and took your hands in his, while he was rubbing his fingers across your knuckles happy to be able to feel your spot hands in his.

“Hmm, I wanted to go to the mall and get your mother the purse I seen” you said

“We could also have a date night today” he said which made you smile bigger at the idea since you both were busy to have any dates.

Even though the words he said will never leave you, but you chose to forgive him be not be mad anymore, because you guys barely see each other and you didn’t want that time to be spent in anger and hate.

beyondmythought-s  asked:

Jonsa prompt: Sansa goes missing after she and Jon have an argument about what to do with his parentage

Heee okay!

I just hope this is up to scratch? I’m not sure of the ending but… here you go nevertheless! Thanks for another prompt! <3

Sansa had very specific smiles set for very specific moments. It was one of the first things Jon had learned about her upon their reunion. It was something new, something he had not encountered before in the woman. 

When they had been younger, mere wee things, green around the ears with dreams of knights and dreams of brothers in black respectively, she had one smile. It was bright and delighted in a way that was so wholly splitting it was infectious. Her laughter in the same breath was a tinkling sound, soft and melodious in the great halls of Winterfell. Jon would look towards the fiery-haired daughter of Catelyn Stark and feel envious of her easy joy; her delight in fanciful things; and the love that was so clearly vivid in her opulent gowns of her mother. All of which Jon never had. Joy was often marred with the all too familiar sense of loss and fanciful things were not afforded to the bastard son of Eddard Stark. 

But the worst of all, in that time he now considered too short and too fleeting, at Winterfell, the absence of a mother’s love had bereft him of the kind of smile that graced Sansa’s lips.

Now, time had stolen much of that easy joy and left her with an arsenal of smiles she kept at hand. Cutting smiles, impassive smiles; smiles devoid of feeling, only carefully maneuvered chess pieces in a never-ending game. Jon could not feel remorse in how she’d had to learn these smiles because for they had kept her alive long enough to return to him. She could smile a thousand smiles all of its meanings different from one another and no less sincere and he would still be glad for their ability to armour her from the realities of their world. 

But Sansa kept a special smile hidden. It was a minuscule twitch of her lips, so fleeting one could miss it, but no song or poem could aptly capture the warmth in that smile. No amount of prose on golden sunshines or warming hearths could truly do justice to the kind of smile Sansa saved for him. It was more than just beautiful; it was relief. It was the soft curve of hope, tinged pink by the promise of tomorrow. Jon could lose himself in the lines of her lips and still find new nuances to take his breath away. 

That was not the smile he had received though. This one, Jon suspected with wearying frustration, was also specifically set for him. The elegant purse and tilt was a resounding echo of Ygritte’s words, ‘you know nothing, Jon Snow,’ and after all these years, Jon did know nothing. 

Somehow the reunion with Bran, the reveal of his true parentage, had unburdened something greater and more despairing than Jon could understand. Surprise had flooded Sansa’s face, widening the blues of her eyes, the little ‘oh’ her lips made, but then surprise rescinded into happiness and then anguish. Jon could make as much sense of her emotions as he did of numbers and politics. When he asked her of it, she denied him her emotions. When he voiced his desire to step down as King of the North, she had said in that clipped, measured way of hers that he would do no such thing. And when Jon had pointed out the betrayal of the people were his true parentage ever to come to light, Sansa had suggested he tell them himself before anyone could beat him there, that Petyr Baelish still sought control of Winterfell, of her. Without missing a beat, Jon had reasserted his promise to protect her but that he could not in good conscience sit on the throne as a Targaryen. He would step down for Bran or Sansa; he would return to Castle Black once Winterfell was fully restored and safe.  

That was when she smiled that smile at him. She had said, ‘I will not be joining you for supper. Good night, your grace.’ and left without another word. She was angry, that much he was sure of, but to what end, he didn’t know. Bran had offered very little insight into his sister and so Jon left the boy for his chambers. If she would not come to supper, he would not either. 

Hours passed and the wind howled outside like a pack of direwolves relinquished to some unspeakable agony. He could not find sleep, not when Sansa was still furious with him, so he pushed the furs from his body and went in search of her. When her maids informed him she had not been seen since earlier that evening, Jon began to panic. Winter was here; didn’t she know that? Was she so furious she would risk its unforgiving cold to escape him? But even as he exited the castle, he knew where she was. He had found her there on many occasions but never in the dead of night when the air was so frigid it could rip the air out of the lungs of any man. 

The Heart Tree rose from a sea of white, its face more haunting now in the darkness. Its mouth opened in a silent, frozen cry for the lost Starks. Jon rubbed his hands in futility – warmth would not come to him in this winter – but it was not the cold that had stripped his lungs of air. It was the empty Godswood. The fresh layer of snow undisturbed even by a small critter. Sansa wasn’t here, hadn’t ever been here today, which meant she was still out there somewhere. 

Jon turned around and raced to the stables, disturbing a young stable boy in his haste. He grabbed the boy’s shoulders with urgency that would surely leave bruises in the morn. “Have you seen Lady Sansa, boy?” His teeth chattered, from fear or the cold Jon didn’t know and didn’t have time to sympathise. He shook the boy once more. “Have you!” 

“N-No, your grace. But her steed is missing.” 

That stupid, stupid girl. Jon ground his teeth and released the boy. He raced towards his own horse and pulled himself up, foregoing a bridle and harness. “Alert the guards. Have every available man searching the castle and the woods beyond. Lady Sansa is missing.” 

Jon steered his horse from the stables and signaled for the guard to pull open the main gates before he could reach it. The wind bit into his face like a braided whip against his skin. The temperature was nowhere near as cold as north of the wall but it would be enough to freeze a man or woman ill-prepared for this weather. But Sansa was smart. Surely, she would be okay. She had to be okay. There was no other option. Jon could not withstand a reality in which she would not be okay; he could not fail her as he had failed so many others. The world needed her smiles, all of them, every scathing one, every polite one, every quietly repulsed one; they needed her more than they would ever need Jon, because for all of Jon’s experience as Lord Commander, he was not equipped to be a king here in this world. He could not play politics the way Sansa could. He could not do any of this without her. 

The horse raced against the heavy flurry of snow. Jon could not see much beyond the white but his heart still beat and there was still blood warm in his veins. He would not cease his search. He would scour these lands until he found her, and when he found her, he would wrap her tight and promise never to argue with her again. Jon couldn’t even remember what they had argued about – something about his parentage. It all seemed so foolish now. If Sansa wanted him to stay on the throne then he would, the other houses be damned. 

But as he thought that, there was a distant voice in his head telling him that that was not what had bothered her, that for all she had argued with him on the matter, something else had angered her. Only what? Sansa was the most perplexing woman he had ever met. 

A flash of fire caught his eye. No ordinary flame could withstand the kind of snow falling from the sky. It must’ve been a trick of the light, a reflection of – Sansa. Jon raced towards the hilltop, the red billowing like flames growing closer and closer until he could see Sansa wrapped up in her fur cloak, lying on her side as the snow fell around her. Jon didn’t hesitate to dismount and cradle her into his body. When there was no immediate response, he carried her gently to the horse and swung up after her.  

The journey back to Winterfell was thankfully swift. Torches and lanterns flickered from all the rooms of the castle as the people searched for Sansa. Jon rode through the gates. “Call for the maester! Bring him to my chambers!” He halted the horse in front of the steps, dropped down and pulled Sansa back into his arms. She was cold, so cold her lips were blue in this light, and her body fell limply against him. Jon’s heart raged against his chest. Every tremulous pulse reminded him of Sansa’s weakening beat. 

Reaching his chambers, Jon quickly placed her atop his furs. He needed to get her out of her wet clothes but even in his urgency, he still had a sense of propriety and he could not take advantage of Sansa while she was unconscious. Jon ran from his chambers and called for her maids. He waited for what felt like hours outside his own room but was probably only a few minutes. Once the maids had finished changing her, the maester arrived and Jon found himself helpless to do much else. He stood in the corner of the room, staring, watching, praying with increasing desperation for her recovery. 

It was then in this state of frozen despair that Jon realised what he had not before, why Sansa had been truly angry with him, but maybe he had always known and only denied himself it for fear of what it would mean. Jon could see now how Sansa must have seen the news of his true parentage. While he had been wallowing in his own anguish, an age-old fear of never belonging, never being a true Stark, Jon had forgotten to see what being a Targaryen could truly mean. It could mean Sansa. It could mean acceptance of feelings he knew now they both felt as strongly as they felt the searing pain of winter. But his denial of it, of his throne, of Winterfell and his true father, was a denial of her. Oh, if only he could turn back the time so that he may sweep her into his arms as soon as the words left Bran’s lips and show her how he would – and could – never deny her. 

“Your grace…” Jon blinked, startled by the sound, and rushed to the old maester’s side. The man inclined his head in respect. “She is weak and I fear the cold has reached her lungs but I have sent for a brew that should help. If she is kept warm, I believe she will make a full recovery.” 

Jon exhaled in relief. He listened carefully to the maester’s instructions and refused the help of the servants in caring for her. She would not return to her own chambers. No, she would stay right here. Where she belonged, he quietly realised once Jon was calm enough to take in the sight of Sansa in his bed. 

The fire the servants had kindled crackled and hissed behind him. Jon slipped into the bed and angled Sansa so she was resting against his chest, lying in between his legs. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and offered his warmth for as long as she needed it. 

Jon could not tell when he had fallen asleep but he was being pulled awake when a soft hand cupped his cheek. He opened his eyes in an instant to see a weakened Sansa staring back at him. “Jon…” Her voice cracked and she coughed, turning her face away from him. 

He reached up to grip her wrist with one hand and tilt her chin to look at him with the other. “You should rest.” 

“I…” Sansa coughed once more into the sleeve of her dress. “I am rested. Jon, I must tell you something.”

“Then I must tell you something also.” 

There’s a faint sheen of sweat on her forehead and her skin was still as pale as the snow itself but Sansa was alive and that was all that mattered. He could face anything, even her, simply knowing that. 

“Let me say my piece first,” Sansa insisted and so Jon nodded in agreement. She inhaled deeply and shifted so she was settled more comfortably against him, her hands now resting lightly on his chest. “I’m sorry I ran away. There is no excuse for my reckless behaviour. I only wished to distance myself from…” 

“From me. It’s okay,” Jon assured her by tracing an invisible line across her cheek.

“It’s not, Jon,” Sansa shook her head. “You were being logical where I was being emotional. A Targaryen, whether he had grown up as Ned Stark’s bastard son or not, would still divide the houses. It is better now if you step down before someone can learn of your true parentage and let Bran become Lord of Winterfell.” She coughed again but she was not finished and she was stubborn enough to force her lungs to speak until her mind was heard. “But I was just so angry you would think of stepping down, to think yourself less worthy because of a name. I was mad that you would leave me here.” 

“Can I speak now?” Jon asked her and she nodded, her brows now creased in worry. He wished to soothe her but he had to say what he needed before he lost his nerve. “Sometimes I can feel it. Where they stabbed me. Sometimes I can feel the edge of the knives driving into my chest as if they were trying to cut out my heart.” Sansa shuddered and Jon raised his arms to pull her closer into his chest. “It’s a feeling unimaginable. Like dying again and again.” He chuckled softly, mirthlessly. “But today, nearly losing you, I realised that you have captured my heart and to be without you, to be without it, is a feeling worse than death.” 

Taking a leap he feared he might not recover from, Jon pressed his lips firmly against hers. He allowed himself to consumed by her touch, to relinquish his hold on whatever part of his brain that had denied himself from her for so long. 

Sansa’s fingers gripped the collar of his tunic and she pressed her body more insistently against him. When they eventually pulled back, both breathing as hard as if they had been racing through the snow, Jon discovered a new smile. There in the soft curves of her lips was a joy he had not seen since before they left Winterfell but it was also shy and curious. Jon kissed her again, more wanting than the last, and delighted in the flush in her cheeks. It was then Jon decided he would spend the rest of his life discovering every way he could make her smile for him.