oh patricia

Rescue Me

****So…I don’t really like it but I figured I would post it anyway cause whatever. This will be my ongoing series for my blog. fingers crossed! I suck at previews so just enjoy! Let me know what you guys think!

Ft/ Roman Reigns



“Where we going?”

Glancing in my rear view mirror, I smiled at my three year old daughter, Zaleigh. Her eyes were on, Ellie, her elephant build a bear, a wide smile stretched across her face. Usually her hair would be hanging in her face but for the occasion, I pulled her unruly black curls back into a bun. Having her hair out of her face showcased her deep dimples and light hazel eyes. Everyone would say she looked like my twin but it was only the dimples, other than that we have nothing in common.

“You remember I told you we were gonna see some of our family today?” I asked her putting my focus back on the road ahead of me.

“Mmhmm. With the pool, mommy?”

“Yep, Zae.”

She didn’t ask any more questions, she put all of her focus back on Ellie.

This was our first time back in Florida since Zaleigh was about nine months old. Her daddy moved us up to Kansas. He said it was for the betterment of our family but that wasn’t it at all. It’s been the longest years of my life without physical contact with my parents, other family and friends. But we’re back now, that’s what matters.

                                       ******

Zaleigh’s excitement had turned into nervousness after I had taken her out of the car. Usually she would opt to walk, or run, instead she begged me to pick her up and clung tightly too me when I did. There were so many cars parked in front of my parents’ house, I realized they probably called all the family we have here and more. I could smell food from the grill and hear the laughing and talking that was going on in the backyard.

Figuring no one would hear the doorbell, I walked us over to the tall, beige picket fence and opened it.

Familiar faces of my cousins were the first people I saw. They hugged me and attempted to talk to Zaleigh but she was having none of it. Laughing it off, I told them to give her a little time in a few minutes she would be ready to talk. Walking quickly through the throng of guests, I made my way to my mom, who was sitting in a lawn chair with two women siting opposite her in lawn chairs as well. I approached her with a big smile feeling tears fill my eyes.

“Mama.” I called out catching her attention.

Without any words, she jumped up and wrapped her arms around me and Zae. In response to the contact, Zaleigh wiggled around to see who it was. Her eyes lit up.

“Nana!” Zae squealed holding arms out to her.

Even though, Zae hadn’t seen her grandparents in the flesh in years I was still able to FaceTime with them so they had a relationship. Happily, my mom took her from me squeezing her gently and placed kisses on the side of her face.

“Is that PopPop’s angel?”

My dad marched right over to us smiling and holding his arms out for Zaleigh. My mom passed her to him then wiped the happy tears from her cheeks. Daddy kissed my forehead before walking away with Zaleigh.

“My babies are finally back,” Mama squealed pulling me back to the ladies she was talking to.

“Oh, Melanie, you remember Patricia and Morgan?” She asked me as she pulled me to sit beside her.

I nodded greeting them politely. Morgan is my mom’s best friend from high school and my godmother. And Patricia is my mom’s other best friend who has lived beside us my whole life. Her, her husband and their four kids. We all grew up together, her youngest son and I were best friends until I left for Kansas. I haven’t talked to or seen him in person in years.

“Is that your baby? She’s so big.”

“Yep, that’s my baby, Ms. Patricia,” I laughed looking over at her and my dad. “She turned three on Christmas Eve.”

“She is so pretty. She clearly got it from her mom.”

Before I could tell Ms. Patricia thank you, my mom butted in playfully telling her that Zae got her good looks from her. The compliment made me feel a little better. Back in Kansas the only thing people ever said was how she didn’t look like me at all and only a little like her father.

“I think she looks like someone but I can’t put my finger on it,” Morgan added looking lost in thought.

My mom gave her a certain look then smiled at me again, pushing me towards the back door. “Go inside and bring those other plates out, Melly.”

Mama sending me inside meant there was something she wanted to say that she didn’t want me to hear. It was probably about Zaleigh’s dad. I’m just not sure what else there is to say about him that she hadn’t already. If that’s what she was going to talk about.

I searched and searched the walk-in pantry for the plates but I didn’t see them.

“I didn’t think you were really here.”

Jumping from the voice, I turned to face them clutching my chest. I was going to yell at them until I realized who it was.

Originally posted by typicalclichewritings

“You need a freaking bell, Joe.”

He laughed stepping inside the pantry away from the doorframe.

“And you gotta stop being so scary, Melly. You act like something was gonna jump out at you.”

“This is why I never liked you.”

Him and I smiled at each other as he closed the gap between us and pulled me into a hug. He smelled as good as I remembered. He towered over me in the hug but I don’t mind. It’s always been like this through our friendship. Cheek to chest.

“It’s been a long time,” He whispered still holding onto me.

I nodded trying to pull away from the hug.

“Not yet. Just let me hold on to you a little longer so I know I’m dreaming.”

He must have find out about what happened between Zaleigh’s dad and I. I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone in the backyard knew. Nevertheless, I stood in his embrace holding onto his waist. I’m glad to be back with my family and friends.


Joe and I ended up siting in the kitchen, at the breakfast bar, talking and joking around. We connected like we never left one another.

“I can’t believe you.” I laughed reaching over to hit his shoulder.

“I swear that’s what happened,” He said holding his hands up a if he was praying, “You can ask my brother.”

As he continued on with his story, I couldn’t help but admire him a little. He looked a lot different since the last time I saw him. Longer hair, leaner, a lot more built and a full beard. I always thought he was handsome and is even more true now.

“Mommy! Mommy!”

Zaleigh ran through the backdoor straight for me giggling as she came over. Scooping her up in my lap, I kissed her cheek and brushed hair from her face.

“Baby! Baby!” I squealed back at her.

She bounced in my lap happily. “Can we stay here?”

“I dunno, Zae. I kind of wanted to stay at our house tonight,” I told her avoiding her puppy dog eyes, “Don’t you wanna stay in your new room?”

And here comes the pouting. I swear I hated when she pouted. It was something she did with her father all the time. Whenever she pouted, cried or even looked pitiful he would give in to whatever she wanted. He may not have been good a person to anyone but he was to Zaleigh for a while. That was all that mattered to me.

 

“No. Wanna stay here. You go.”

 

Narrowing my eyes at her, I gave her my best mom face. To be honest I’m still perfecting it, sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. Once she decided to look away, I moved my attention to Roman who was smiling at us.

 

“You should let her stay.”

 

Zaleigh jumped at the sound of his voice. She turned in my lap to face him, her once pouty face now shifted into a smiling face. It was because she knew she was about to get her way.

 

“Oh, no!” I said catching his attention. “You will not spoil her too. Her father and my parents have done enough.”

 

“Not my daddy,” Zaleigh mumbled lying her head back on my chest. Joe and I locked eyes after she said until I looked away. “Just let her stay, Mel. You and I can do some catching up.” After all was said, him and I just stared until he grinned at me wiggling his brows. The wiggle had made Zaleigh laugh but it was the grin that got me. That damn boyish grin, it made him look so innocent but I knew better. That grin has gotten me in a lot of trouble in the years that I’ve known him.  

 

Joe held his arms out to Zaleigh and surprisingly she reached out for him. As much as she talks, she can be super shy so with this being her first time seeing him, that she remembers, and she goes to him is shocking to me. She made herself comfortable in his lap facing me. Joe held her tiny hands in his larger ones and leaned down so he could talk to her.

 

“If you wanna stay you gotta smile at your mommy, Princess,” he semi-whispered looking down at her. “No sad face?” The genuinely confused face made the both of us laugh. She is a character. “Nah. See mommy can’t turn down a smile.” Zaleigh seemed to be pondering it for a second, looking back and forth between Joe and I. She squinted her eyes and sighed, “How you know?”

 

“Cause I’m mommy’s bestest friend,” he told her smiling over at me. My cheeks started to heat up and hurt from the big smile on my face. “Mommy best friend a girl.” Joe laughed taking a second to smooth his hand over his hair. “I’m her real best friend.”

 

“Whats your name?”

 

“Joe, Princess.”

 

“Ace,” she squealed moving to throw her arms around his neck. With a confused look on his face he hugged her back and gave me a crazy look. All I could do was laugh, it was what I used to call him when we were kids. My mom told her about him a few times before. He hadn’t heard it in years I’m sure. “That’s me,” he said pulling away, “Now come on. Let’s smile at mommy and ask her really nicely.” They mushed their cheeks together and smiled, making me giggle. They looked absolutely ridiculous.

 

“Can I stay, mommy? Peaaaase??”

 

“Yeah, Mommy,” Joe added, “Peaaaase.”

 

Staring at them, I tried to keep a straight face but failed miserably. When I fell into a fit of laughter Joe told her that was yes and to go tell her grandparents that she was staying. “You know she’s gonna expect you to rescue her like that all the time right?” I asked standing from my seat. “That’s alright with me. As long as I can rescue her mama, too.” Joe dropped his voice, something he did when he flirted. Some things never changed.

 

“You’re my best friend, remember,” I asked.

 

“For all intents and purposes, you’re right,” he shrugged pulling me to stand between his legs, “But there were times when we weren’t. Yeah?”

 

“I don’t recall.”

 

“We’ve got some time to go down memory lane.”

 

“I’m a married woman, Joe. You should not be flirting with me.” I put my naked ring finger in his face making him laugh. Grasping it, he placed a kiss to where my ring should have gone.

 

“I have reason to believe that you’re not married. And my sources never lie.”

 

Slipping my hand from his grasp, I stepped away from her backing up to the back door. “We should get back out there before they send a search party.”

 

“You’re right but we’ve gotta leave at some point. Right?”

  • Me: *showing a Spike/Buffy fan video to my sweet 70-year-old neighbor Patricia*
  • Video: *Spike hits Buffy*
  • Patricia: *gasp* "Spike hit Buffy!"
  • Video: *Buffy hits Spike*
  • Patricia: "And then Buffy hit him back!"
  • Video: *Spike and Buffy have sex in a building that's falling apart around them*
  • Patricia: "Oh this is fascinating."

anonymous asked:

what are your thoughts on patricia kennealy

Oh jeez uhh. I don’t buy half of what she says. Babe hill asked Jim about the supposed pagan marriage, asking what exactly was it that he did and Jim just sighed and said ‘man, I don’t know what I did’ and that was that. Jim didn’t care that patricia was pregnant with his child, Jim didn’t really care? Patrician doesn’t seem to grasp that she was one out of maaany. A side hoe lmao. Also uhh I wonder how she managed to show up in so many biographies and even the doors movie considering barely any of the people who knew Jim knew anything of her at all. Hmm, really makes you que$tion her motive$. Basically meh I don’t give a shit about her lmao.

anonymous asked:

A prompt: Carol puts her beloved fur coat around Therese. The reason can be the cold, or to comfort her, whatever.

On Broadway (Early December)

On Broadway, the cold rain came down in torrents. The audience streamed out and into the rain, and Carol and Therese, like many others, sought shelter under the awning of the Fulton Theatre. Therese had taken Carol to see Gigi. The play starred an actress of about Therese’s age, named Audrey Hepburn. Harkevy had gotten her two tickets, and she had been looking forward to it for months. What a shame, Therese thought, that things could be seen for the first time only once.

Carol asked her what she thought of the acting, of the set. Therese could not say a word. The actress, Audrey Hepburn, had been wonderful, and the set had been horrid, and Therese was infuriated. She could have designed a set to do Audrey Hepburn justice. She could have made it perfect. She could not say anything. It was the curse of passion, she knew. She was trembling, and she felt Carol put first her arm around her, then her coat. It was large enough for the two of them. Carol was scanning Broadway for a free taxi.

Keep reading

The Hot Mess Parents

Just a quick warning of how much utter shit you are about to read here. You should honestly not read this fic unless you’re high, drunk, both or you really really love this ship to bypass the utter nonsense my high mind wrote while I was on vacation.

I warned you.

“We have to be there for 7, although I’m sure that time is negotiable for us because of our careers,” she said as she scrubbed her chocolate locks with her usual shampoo.

“Better to be there for 7,” Owen replied as he stood under the running water while she scrubbed. He didn’t exactly know where they were supposed to be for 7 tonight, but he wasn’t about to disclose that information after forgetting 3 times to get the groceries in the last three weeks and forgetting to pick up Ryan 7 times this month. He was almost sure she’d choke him in the shower if she found out he had no clue what she was talking about.

“Yeah, but the later we get there,” she said, switching places with him in the shower so that she was under the water now, “the less time I have to spend socialising with Patricia and all the other people I hate in that stupid preschool.”

“Her name isn’t Patricia,” he laughed, lustily watching as foam slowly slid down her water glossed body, “And it’s a great school. He only has two more years there anyway, so I’m sure you can put aside your hatred for the betterment of your son.” He was about to grip her waist and pull her in for a kiss when he was suddenly pulled back under the water as she switched their positions once again in the shower.

“I don’t care what her name is,” Amelia grumbled, squeezing a handful of liquid soap in her hand, her hair still foamy from the half-assed rinse she gave it. She turned around and rubbed the soap all over her body and he dutifully helped get the parts on her back that she couldn’t reach as easily, like he always did. As she complained about the other moms, she bent over to scrub her legs, causing her ass to press into his crotch. Owen looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. Easy there, he thought to his member, ignore the ass in front of you, ignore it. Meanwhile, Amelia continued as if she had no idea what she was doing to him.

“And I feel like mothers of 3 year old children shouldn’t be so sour and evil,” she finished, standing up and turning around, “you know what I mean?” He watched as her hands made their way to her boobs and lathered them. It’s just boobs, he thought to his lower region, you’ve seen them before. Relax.

“Owen!” she whined, waving her hand in front of his face, “Are you even listening to me?”

His blue irises stared blankly at her and nodded, “Of course I am.” Amelia looked down at his crotch and rolled her eyes, moving him out of the way so she could rinse off again.

“You haven’t even washed your hair as yet,” she complained as she grabbed his shampoo and squirted some into her palm, “We don’t have time for sex right now.”

“Because you’re too busy trying to impress people you hate?” Owen finished, watching the way her breasts jiggled as she combed her fingers through his strawberry blonde locks.

“I’m not trying to impress them,” she said, moving him under the water to rinse his hair, “I’m just trying to avoid giving them reasons to make fun of me.” He took over rinsing his hair while she reached for his Irish spring body wash.

“No one is going to make fun of you,” Owen assured her.

“You saw how they were last time,” she reminded him as she guided him away from the water before squeezing a wad of liquid soap onto his chest.

“There’s no need to use so much soap,” he reminded her for the 500th time, “And all they do is look. Not one of them has the balls to actually do something harmful to you or me.”

She sighed dejectedly and spread the soap all over his chest, “Maybe you’re right.”

“I know I’m right,” he told her, washing his arms, “Nothing is gonna happen tonight, especially with me beside you, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Can we have sex now that we’ve gotten that issue out of the way?” he asked with his eyebrows raised. His angry demeanour was slowly crumbling as her smile got wider and it disappeared completely when he saw her dimples appear.

She nodded at him.

He scooped her up into his arms and carried her under the showerhead.

“Is my dress too short?” Amelia asked Owen as they ventured into the small auditorium, parents roaming all over. She was wearing a matte black dress that was backless. Owen wore a simple suit with a black tie.

“Too long,” he teased, sneaking a quick squeeze of her rear. She quickly slapped his hand away as a group of mothers approached them.

“Amelia,” the mother in the middle of the group greeted her. She held a plate of goodies in her hand.

“Patricia,” Amelia replied with a wide smile.

‘Patricia’ rolled her eyes and offered them the plate in her hand, “Brownies?”

“Depends on if you made them,” she retorted.

“We’d love to have some,” Owen quickly intercepted, grabbing two brownies off the plate, “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Oh, Dr. Hunt,” ‘Patricia flirted, patting Owen’s shoulder, “When are you going to stop calling me that and start calling me by my real name?” Amelia rolled her eyes. Trolls don’t deserve real names, she thought.

“As soon as my girlfr…wife stops calling you Patricia,” he replied, guiding Amelia away from them.

“I wonder how long we can continue to pretend to be married,” Amelia pondered, taking a brownie from Owen and stuffing the whole thing into her mouth.

“We can get married for real, if you want,” Owen half joked, putting the other brownie in his mouth.

“Very funny, Owen,” she said, breaking away from him to greet the principal.

Hour 1: 9:00PM

“Amelia,” Owen said in a terrified voice, grabbing her shoulder and turning her away from the snacks table and towards him. With hooded, bloodshot eyes, he looked at the half-eaten brownie in her hand, possibly the fifth one she was having for the night, and panicked. “Stop eating those!” he berated her, slapping the brownie out of her hand. She watched as the brownie hit the floor and discarded into a million pieces.

“Why the fuck did you do that for?” she almost yelled, grabbing the attention of some of the parents nearby.

“Come with me,” he said, taking her hand and leading them outside the auditorium. Once outside, he said, “You were right. You were absolutely right to not trust those mothers.”

“I’m always right,” she proudly replied, folding her arm across her chest, “But remind me again why I’m right?”

“Do you know how much trouble we can get in if the hospital has a random test tomorrow,” Owen continued as if he hadn’t heard her question, “Or next week. Or next month!”

“Test? What test?” she queried. It was only then that she noticed his droopy, red eyes. “Are you high?” Amelia exclaimed, moving closer to him to grab his face and get a better look, “Oh my god, you are high. You have got to be kidding me, Owen.”

“How are you not high?!” he asked in a high pitched voice, “I had four brownies and I’m twice your size.”

“The brownies? They have marijuana in them?”

“Maybe because you’re a drug addict, perhaps that’s why you’re not high as yet,” he mused, ignoring her question.

“The brownies have weed in them,” Amelia reiterated, breaking away from him to pace the corridor, “They’re pot brownies and I’m a drug addict. Holy crap.” She looked at him, muttering, “Owen, I broke my sobriety.”

“I don’t think it counts if you’re unknowingly drugged,” he pointed out, watching as she had a silent meltdown, “I mean, it’s too late now, so might as well enjoy it, right?”

“Wait, how are we going to get home?” she asked, pressing her hands to either sides of her face. Owen shrugged.

Hour 2: 10:00PM

“Ryan is a wonderful, brilliant and charming boy,” Ryan’s teacher commented to Owen and Amelia as the two parents stood by the punch bowl. A few minutes ago, the bowl had been filled to the brim but because of one of the lesser positive side effects of being high, cotton mouth, the bowl was now half full because of them.

“Hello?” the teacher called out to them, catching both of their attention now.

“Uh, right,” Amelia said, not recalling any of what the teacher said, “You’re welcome.”

“Okay then…” she replied, giving the two a weird look before walking away. The second she left, Owen and Amelia burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“Why are you laughing?” Owen asked in between breathy giggles.

“I don’t know,” she responded, gasping for breath, “Why are you laughing?”

“Dr. Shepherd, Dr. Hunt,” the principal greeted them with a warm smile and a chuckle, “What are we laughing about here?” The two put an abrupt stop to their laughter and straightened up as if they were about to be penalised for their actions.

“Nothing,” Owen said, wiping a stray tear from his eye.

“I wanted to talk to you about your son,” he said, quickly disregarding their funny behaviour, “I was thinking about skipping him to the final year of preschool. Well, thinking is the wrong word, because that’s what I want to do.”

“You want to skip him to the final year?” Amelia confirmed, to which the principal nodded. She looked at Owen, who smiled proudly back at her. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she murmured, “I only have to endure these bitches for one more year?”

“Well, I wouldn’t put it like that,” he sheepishly replied, “But-“

Amelia embraced him in a sudden hug, whispering, “Thank you.” The principal looked questioningly at Owen.

“She’s just very emotional,” Owen justified, patting Amelia’s shoulder and coaxing her to let go of the guy, “Come on, honey, let’s go.”

Hour 3: 11:00PM

“This is illegal and we are going to die. You’re on the wrong side of the road,” Amelia reminded him for the fifth time.

“Have you ever noticed how weird the road looks at night?” Owen mused, returning to the right side of the road as he drove at 30km/h, just to be safe, “Like, it’s so dark but the headlights illuminate the way.” They had no other choice but to drive home, too paranoid to leave Amelia’s car at the school and in the possession of the same mothers whom had drugged them three hours ago.

Amelia squinted at the road, “You’re absolutely right. Pull over there.”

“Why?” he asked, pulling up outside a house that they were unfamiliar with. There appeared to be some sort of college party happening. There were drunk students all over the front lawn, there was toilet paper hung all over the outside of the house and strobe lights flickered all over while loud music played.

“Because we’re going to party,” she said, opening the passenger door. Unable to stop her, Owen came out of the car also and followed her.

“Don’t you think we should go to the hospital or something?” Owen suggested, “Somewhere that won’t tempt you to drink?”

“You get so paranoid when you’re high,” she complained, taking his hand, “I’m not going to drink.”

“Can I drink?” Owen asked. Amelia looked at him and flashed one of her mischievous grins.

Hour 4: 12:00AM

“Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!” the crowd yelled as Owen downed his last cup of beer and won the competition. He raised his balled fist into the air like a gladiator and howled, making the crowd of college students go wild. Losing his clothes a half hour ago in a weird game, Owen had a stuffed hornet tied around his crotch area, keeping him somewhat clothed. There was a large drawing of a penis ejaculating on his chest, which he couldn’t recall how it got there, and his hair was in every direction. Amelia was in the kitchen, dancing on top of the island in a bikini that he was absolutely sure wasn’t hers.

“Where did you find that bikini?” Owen asked, looking up at her. He held his hand out for her, helping her off the table.

“I can’t remember,” she yelled in his ear, grasping his hand and leading him outside, “Where did you get that hornets stuffed toy from?” Owen shrugged his shoulders.

He couldn’t remember how they got there, but they were now in the pool. Red cups were floating by them but they were too deep in conversation about a case to notice. Amelia had her legs wrapped around his torso and his hornet had been traded in for a speedo that he also couldn’t remember how he got.

“Using all three methods allowed me to come at the tumour at all angles, and also monitor the other unaffected parts of the brain too,” she finished, “You know what I mean?”

“Nope,” Owen truthfully answered.

“I’ll start over then.”

“Please don’t. You think so fast that you make my eyes spin,” he said, “especially when you’re high. Starting over isn’t going to help. I’m a trauma surgeon. I don’t pay attention to detail.” He slipped his fingers into her bikini and, with a playful grin, murmured, “I get in…and I get out.”

“So this was your plan all along,” she laughed, feeling his fingers teasing her within the tiny fabric.

“Not exactly,” he replied, “But I hear that the sex is ten times better when you’re high.”

“Where did you hear that from?”

“A medical journal, actually.”

Hour 5: 1:00AM

She was on top of him and he was sitting up as they fucked in someone’s bedroom. They were absolutely sure that they hadn’t left the house, because they could still hear Rick Astley playing outside.

“Owen,” Amelia whispered in his ear.

“Owen,” he replied back, unsure of why he did so, although it weirdly turned him on.

“Say something dirty.”

“A pig in mud,” he breathlessly replied.

“A pig in mud?”

“Uh, I mean you feel so good,” Owen moaned as his hands squeezed her ass, “like mac and cheese.”

“Say something else,” she prodded, hoping he’d come better than that.

“HER2-positive breast cancer has an advantage within the typically resilient brain environment,” he quoted, thinking that something neurosurgical would definitely turn her on. It seemed like a good idea at the time, at least.

“Growl at me,” she demanded, ignoring his previous, weird comment, “Fuck me like you paid for it.”

Complying, he growled in her ear like a rabid dog and said, “I want to live in your vagina and pay rent and do the dishes. And I’m gonna pee inside of you.”

“Don’t do that,” she quickly told him.

“Okay,” he said. He remained silent for a few moments before moaning, “I want to get you pregnant.”

“Please don’t do that either,” she laughed, “You’re not very good at talking dirty.”

“Okay,” he nodded. He took one of her nipples into his mouth to shut himself up. The feeling of her fingers pulling at his hair was a hundred times more enhanced for him, making him feel like he could come undone just from her doing that.

“I just wanna tell you how I’m feeling,” Owen sang mindlessly, burying his face in her chest, his breathing becoming heavier as he neared his peak, “Gotta make you understand. Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert you. Never gonna make you cry, never gonna say goodbye, never gonna tell a lie and hurt you.” His voice progressively got louder as he moved into the chorus and climaxed.

Hour 6: 2:00AM

“What kind of party ends at 2 in the morning?” Owen grumpily asked as they scoured the floor for their belongings.

“I don’t think it ended. I think mostly everyone just died,” Amelia responded, “There’re still people outside.” She pushed a stray student to the side, finding her car keys and cell phone beneath him. “Found it!” she celebrated, holding the car keys up in the air along with her phone.

“I found my shirt and stuff, but someone is wearing my pants,” he announced, pointing at the man passed out in the corner of the living room.

“Well hurry up and take it off of him,” she huffed, looking for her clothes now, “We have a shift starting in six hours.”

“I don’t think we’ll be sober in six hours,” Owen said, flipping the lifeless boy over and unzipping the pants, “We ate a whole plate of weed brownies. Not to mention the fact that we’re old people and our metabolisms are slower than when we were their age.”

“Stop making me depressed about being old,” she huffed, retiring her search efforts for her dress; she’d have to find something else to wear, “And I call dibs on driving.”

The next morning

Owen and Amelia sat down in silence at the kitchen table. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of their spoons scooping in their cereal bowls. Amelia was in a kangaroo onesie, and she wasn’t exactly sure how she got it, Owen was in a pants that definitely did not belong to him, although last night he thought it did, and Amelia’s car rear-ended Owen’s truck outside in her driveway. It was a mere miracle that they were both alive and well.

Striking up the courage to speak amidst the awkward silence, Owen asked, “Do you remember anything after we found my pants?”

“Nope,” she answered curtly, hurriedly stuffing her face with a spoonful of cheerios.

More silence. More clinking of spoons against glass bowls.

“Are we gonna talk about you wanting to pee inside-“

“That is never to be spoken of ever,” he quickly cut her off, “Neither is ‘a pig in mud’ or me wanting to get you pregnant or that thing I said about breast cancer and brain cancer. Nothing. I was high, forget about it.”

“Okaaay,” Amelia said, biting the inside of her cheek to fight off a smile.

Owen looked up at her, his cheeks red with embarrassment, “Don’t you have an NA meeting to go to or something?”

She got up and disposed of her bowl of milk before walking past Owen and whispering in his ear, “I just wanna tell you how I’m feeling. Gotta make you understand.”

His cheeks became redder than before, “You’re never gonna let this go, are you?”

“No I am not, Rick Astley,” she teased, planting a quick kiss on his forehead before heading to the bathroom, all the while singing the chorus of the song, just to add insult to injury.

youtube

Baby Daniel aww

perfect family lol

Hamlet is so confused omg

Patricia is forever young

“yes, Iam drinking to make look you less ugly”

Beau’s Oh my god lmaoo

But seriously it’s so cute that fans were involved

“my mom’s just fucked”

Oh my gawd

THE BEST FUKING VIDEO EVER

Seriously?
  • I am disgusted by the media posting 'Oh these white tourist had to leave Mexico because of Patricia' OH BOO HOO WHAT ABOUT THE MILLIONS OF MEXICAN CITIZENS THAT ARE GONNA LOSE EVERYTHING? THEIR HOMES? HOPEFULLY NOT THEIR FAMILIES! So media stop being dumb & actually post about important stuff not stupid stories about tourist being devastated about their short vacation.My family in Mexico are near the area its gonna hit.I'm praying for them & EVERYONE in mexico.❤🙏