Nostalgicmiss' Week 12 Entry: Changes

Nostalgicmiss
Thursday





Picture 1Picture 2



Nostalgicmiss' Choice: Picture 2


Title: Changes

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. . . Continued . . .
Rated: NC-17 for Content.

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"So?" Tate asked gently as we slid into the truck. "How was your reading?"

I wasn't sure what to tell him. I got what Harmony was trying to say and I understood what was at stake, but I also knew what I wanted right now. Haden had been acting so strange while Tate got his reading, he and Ava had been displaying the most nauseating PDA to date, and I just wanted to get away from them. Yet, it was the way Tate had been while we were waiting for Haden that had really made my mind up.

He hadn't been as obvious as Haden and Ava, but he'd made his point. He wanted out of here and soon, because he wanted to finish what we'd started.

"Confusing," I admitted, my eyes meeting his, hoping that they portrayed how little I wanted to discuss this right now.

"Me too," he grinned. "She told me I would have to fight for what I wanted. That the future would get muddled, but to fight is to win."

"What the hell were your words?"

"Confuse, Battle, Fight, Gain."

"So you win?" I grinned, picking up his hand and threading our fingers.

"That was the tricky part, she said it could go either way but the gain could be another wound."

"I don't like that."

"Me either, but if I'm fighting, I plan on starting now." His fingers squeezed mine before he brought them both to his lips and kissed my knuckles. "And right now, I plan on cashing in that rain check and getting my gift."

I felt my lips curl into a smile. The heat, and weight of his hand in mine made my need grow even deeper. Sure, there were questions to be asked and assumptions to be nixed, but for now; I intended to do nothing but enjoy this night together.

"So, this gift," he asked, his eyes occasionally drifting to mine. "Can I have it now?"

"Hmmm," I hummed, shifting into the middle of the bench seat. "Maybe, but I'm worried about your concentration level."

Tate raised his eyebrows, hunger evident. "Do you have it with you?"

I nodded, my tongue running languidly over my bottom lip as I did.

"Could I find it?"

Again I nodded, my eyes closing slightly as I shifted in my seat.

"Do I get one free guess of where it is – with my hands?"

This time my teeth impaled my bottom lip as my head moved. I wanted him to know what I was talking about, I wanted him to find it, and I wanted all of this frustration of needing him full flame on like Johnny Storm falling from an eighty story building. I needed him.

The hand still holding the steering wheel had white knuckles, but he still managed to drop my hand in his lap with the other before it headed off on it's treasure hunt. His beautiful eyes were shining the headlights reflections the amber flecks ignited in excitement.

His dark hair was almost blue black in the little light we had emanating from the street, all of the same features I remembered about him from that first night standing out as I drank in his quiet determination.

"Where would Meg, hide my gift?" he mused to himself, his hand coming to rest on my bare knee.

"I wonder?" I teased, shifting slightly closer to him.

The heat of his palm left goose flesh in it's wake. His slow deliberate movements taking him to the edge of the denim skirt I was wearing. His hand cupped the thigh closest to him gently, nudging it so I would move with him. I didn't resist.

My legs fell a little further open letting him gain a couple more inches with his hands, my fingers digging into the leather of the bench seat below me as the tingles of excitement shot through my veins.

Every suggestive squeeze had my legs pushing further apart. We moved in slow motion, until his fingers brushed the crease at the apex of my thighs. My head fell back against the window with the sudden pleasure of his touch.

"Is this my gift?" he asked breathlessly, his voice deep and masculine in his arousal.

I nodded again but shook my head with the little clarity I could find. My legs were trembling and my teeth sank further into the flesh of my bottom lip.

"I want it," he growled, his index finger tracing the line of my panties. Every ounce of feeling was centered around his finger as it moved, sparks seemed go off behind my eyes as my breathing intensified.

"I . . . I want you," I confessed, my voice thick with lust. "I need you."

"I'm all yours." The moment the words were out of his mouth, his fingers dipped below the line of my underwear and penetrated me. My body shifted, my back arching so I lifted from the seat. Desire was all I could think about, it ran through my body like a hot wave of lava and bled through my pores.

My finger nails cut into the soft supple leather beneath me as he moved gently, pumping his digit in time with my breaths. He added another finger, his breathing almost as labored as my own making the high all the more exciting. My body reacted to him without prompt, the needing so much more than I though it would be.

"Tate," I mewed, desperate for his full attention. Desperate to let go of the tension building up inside my body. It rolled down my spine with shudders and breathy moans. Mews and whimpers of pleasure.

The truck jerked to a sudden stop, the gears thumping as he threw it in park. The hand that had been on the steering wheel found the back of my neck easily and pulled me to him my legs awkwardly straddling his – his lips taking mine, his tongue penetrating deep and in rhythm with his fingers that never left my body.

"Come for me," he growled around our lips. His hips bucking and knocking his fingers deeper. "Come, baby."

His teeth sank into my bottom lip sending me over the edge. My body arched over the cold rubber of the steering wheel, my fingers digging into his shoulders as I rode the wave of complete and utter euphoria.

"Good girl," he groaned, his hand pulling me back toward him as his other pulled out from the warm cradle they'd found. "Did I win?"

I shook my head, smirking at him as I rocked my hips against his.

"It's only part of it," I sighed, looking around me for the first time. Somehow he'd managed to get us all the way to my place. "Come with me and I'll make sure you see the rest."

"You think I'd say no after that, gorgeous?"

I ran my tongue along my lips and popped open the door. Light flooded the cab of the truck and I almost had to contain my gasp as I looked at the man now cradling me against his body. His eyes were as blue as the summer sky, alive and shocking as he drank me in, the amber twists seemed to writhe, pulsing gently as he drank me in.

"You're eyes."

He didn't say a word, he didn't even acknowledge what I'd said. He leaned in and captured my lips with his, his lips, soft and full, enveloped mine as he pushed against me, his hand holding me in place as his tongue pushed gently into the warm confines of my mouth.

I could feel him moving around me, his hands moving down my back and grabbing my ass as he slid out of the truck, balancing my weight as though I weighed nothing at all. My legs wrapped around his waist as he pressed me against the cool metal of the vehicle.

The faint slamming of the door seemed so distant while I was lost in him like this. He was all I could think about, all I could concentrate on as our bodies rubbed against one another.

"Meg," he groaned as my hips rocked against his again, my ankles locking us together. "Not like this, baby."

His hands moved to my waist carefully, trying not to show any more of my humility than was already on show for anyone who just happened to be around. I followed suit reluctantly, letting my legs drop to the ground as he lowered me.

My legs were like jelly, barely able to carry my weight. Not that I had time to get used to it. Tate had my hand in his, jogging through the dewy grass toward my building. I couldn't help but laugh as I fought to catch up with him.

He held the door open for me, placing a kiss on my shoulder as I passed the tingles moving from that one spot and making it's way down my spine. I had never seen anyone with as much impatience as him as he hammered the tiny button waiting for the elevator.

The door finally slid open with a ding, and Tate wasted no time in dragging me inside. He pressed the button to my floor and didn't even wait for the doors to close before his lips were on mine. We rode the elevator in a heated embrace, both of us clawing at the others clothes as we waited to arrive on my floor.

He pulled me from the enclosure the moment the ding sounded and I shuffled around for my keys. The moment I found them I unlocked the door and pushed it open and him through it with a desperation.

I kicked the door closed and took his hand, pulling him toward my bedroom and ignoring everything else going on in the room. I physically ached for him. It had been so long since I'd had a physical relationship with someone, and it had been a never with someone I cared about as much as I knew I cared about Tate.

"So, this present," he growled, kicking shut the door and pressing me against the dresser with his body.

"You have to unwrap it," I said breathlessly. My hands running down his broad chest. I pushed him away gently and lifted my arms over my head with a devious grin. He smiled and gripped the fabric of my shirt in his hands, lifting it over my head before letting it drop to the floor.

If I'd thought there was a hunger in his glance before, it was nothing to the look he was giving me now. His eyes roamed over my curves, drinking me as he licked his lips. Before I even had a chance to reciprocate the gesture, his fingers were at the button on my skirt, popping it open with a flick of his wrist.

The denim fell to the floor with a sigh of fabric leaving me completely exposed to him.

"You're beautiful."

My fingers moved to the buttons on the front of his shirt as his eyes made another sweep over my body. I fed the buttons through the holes one by one, eager to see the chiseled chest that I could feel against me every time we kissed.

I pushed the material over his shoulders battling his arms as they reached for me. The frenzy we'd had downstairs reignited with the visual stimulation. It was too much and not enough.

Tate stepped forward, his arms circling my waist as my fingers ran down his tanned muscular sides. His lips pushed against mine again, his tongue dipping between my lips as he lifted me onto the dresser. We were the same height like this, and I parted my legs so he could step closer.

"I want you, Meg. All of you."

"You have me," I groaned, forcing my hands between us so I could tackle the button and zipper of his jeans.

"I want to be inside of you."

I moaned my acquiescence as I freed him from the restraint of his jeans. I pushed them down, my feet taking over the moment I couldn't reach any further. He stood tall and proud against me as our kiss grew deeper, I could feel him against the thin barrier of my panties as he thrust against me.

His fingers hooked into the soft material and I used his shoulders to give me leverage so he could pull them down my legs and be free of them. I pulled my legs out and let them drop to the floor, scooting to the edge of the dresser eagerly.

"Meg . . ."

"Tate," I groaned in reply, breaking our lips apart as I caught his amazing eyes.

He pushed forward in one swift movement filling me completely. The faint sound of everything on the dresser falling and scattering on the floor was lost to me as the fire took me over. His eyes seemed to swim thunderously with pleasure before closing as he lost himself in the moment. He was beautiful, and even when I closed my eyes I could see the liquid gold weaving around the blue burnt on the back of my eyelids.

My stomach fluttered useless as he rocked out and pushed in again. My fingers pushed into his shoulders as pleasure rocked me violently.

"Oh God," I whined, my head resting against his shoulder. The feeling just too good to contain in restless silence.

We found our rhythm easily, the push and the pull, the breathing and breathlessness. My hands slipped over the damp skin of his shoulders as our heated bodies beaded with sweat. The dance between us was complex, our bodies knowing what we wanted, the reacted to touch, to the feel. We fit.

He was getting close, I could feel it in the tension of his body as he pushed into me. I was already riding the line, my body responded to his easily, his touch, his lips, his breath was all sensory as it bathed my skin.

I lost my grip on his shoulders as he pulled me closer to the edge again. He tilted my hips, pushing deeper and harder. All I had to hold onto was the edge of the dresser, my sweaty palms sliding against the woodgrain as my head hit the wall behind me.

"Right there," I screamed as he struck gold. My body arched and convulsed as stars exploded behind my eyelids.

The dresser slammed against the wall as Tate pushed into me hard and came. My toes curled and pushed into his ass holding him against me as my breathless panting licked his skin. He collapsed against me, his heavy body pinning me a welcome weight.

"That was . . ."

"Uh huh," I sighed, my hand running through his hair.

"Why the fuck did we wait so long to do that?"

I laughed, I couldn't help myself. He pulled back with a half smile and grabbed at a towel that was sitting on the desk chair next to the dressed. He eyed me and I nodded, trying to hide my blush as he cleaned us up.

Tate dropped the towel to the floor, his strong arms closed around me as he lifted me from the surface of the dresser and carried me to the bed, collapsing with me in his arms.

"Will you stay?" I asked, tucking myself into his side as he pulled the blankets over our bodies.

"I'll do anything you want me to," he answered sleepily, his arm wrapping around my shoulders and pulling me to him.

I couldn't stop the smile curling my lips as I let my exhaustion roll over me in waves. Completely sated, I could barely remember my own name anyway so I let he darkness swallow me.

---

That was kind of pitiful, I was procrastinating!! I think the conclusion may be next week . . .

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Miztrezboo's Week 12 Entry: Make Out Mountain

Miztrezboo
Thursday





Picture 1Picture 2


Miztrezboo's Choice: Picture 1


Title: Make Out Mountain

"Edward, why did you bring me up here?"

He shrugs and I lean back against the fence post, turning my head so I can keep one eye on him and the other on the twinkling lights below.

I don't know why I bother to ask. We both know exactly why he's brought me here.

"You don't think my sister has told me about this place?" I pause, giving him time to answer but he says nothing, only sighs and runs one hand through his recently cut locks. I'm not happy with his new look. It makes his ears stick out at the side and somehow has made his nose look bigger than normal.

He's my Edward, just... different.

"It's not like your brother hasn't come up here with her enough times." I roll my eyes as he sits forward on the hood of his old bet up Camaro. Even with just the pale sliver of moonlight over head, I can still make out the rust holes in the awful blood orange paint job he and Jasper gave it in shop class.

Its only under the cover of darkness that I'll actually get in that thing. I've told him, when he either upgrades the car or gets decent paint work then I'll ride with him during the day. Until then, we usually get around in my Dad's old Mercedes. Stylish, sleek and as red as the Cherry Bomb polish on my nails.

And we don't have to let the 'engine warm' before we go anywhere either.

"Bella told you about that?"

I shake my head, stupid boy. "Girl talk."

"Come here," he says, his voice all husky and I think he's trying to be sexy.

I chuckle and recross my legs. Its such a balmy summers eve, the temperature still way in the eighties, maybe even the nineties but without the sun its just sticky and oppressive. Even here, beside the cliff face overlooking our town, there's just a hint of breeze to cool us off.

Why he couldn't have taken us to the lake is beyond me. Doesn't he realize he could have had a better chance at getting laid than here where the air is glazing my body with a second skin of sweat?

I feel gross, and I tell him as much.

"Babe -" He pauses, and I'm pretty sure that he can either sense the bitch brow that I'm giving him or see it - he knows how much I hate that so called "term of endearment."

"Rosalie," he smirks. Damn him, he also knows how much I love it when he uses my full name. Everyone has shortened it to Rosie since the day they brought me home from hospital. All because perfect little Bella couldn't say it right.

If only they knew she was eight weeks pregnant, and after a slight detour through Vegas on their trip to Stanford, that she would soon be Mrs. Emmett McCarty.

I may have disliked my older sister, but there was no way I was giving up that secret to our parents. She was the only sister I had and had taught me nearly all of the boy stuff I knew.

"Edward." I call back as he slides off the hood and saunters over. I swear there's an extra swagger in his step.

I've been keeping him at third base for a month now, even though I want more. There's just something about making him wait, making us wait. It feels right.

He sits down on the grass beside me and I can feel the extra heat from his body as he scoots closer. Even his lips feel warm against my neck and his hand extra clammy on my knee as it glides up, up, up to toy with the hem of my shorts.

"Edward," I sigh, his lips continue their journey down over my collarbone and he's using his teeth to slide the thin strap of my tank top down over my shoulder. They graze my skin and leave goose bumps in their wake and suddenly the heat of the day is sinking into my flesh and warming me from the inside out.

That hand on my leg subtly moves up and over my stomach, coming to rest on my hip where - with the lightest of pressure - he's guiding me onto my back. I fall easily onto the soft turf, his fingers tip tapping under my shirt and under the bikini top I'm wearing.

Edward's leg is between mine and he's above me, his eyes darker in the night we're wrapped in and yet I can still see this ... thing or whatever it is between us. The teenage girl in me wants to label it and the cynic that saw my parents divorce earlier this year say not to label it anything at all.

But I see it.

When he uses the tips of his fingers to brush softly over my cheek, sliding into my hair before leaning down close enough that every breath out of his is my breath in... I feel it.

"Rosalie." he whispers, just before his lips meet mine and I shiver from what I can hear behind the simple sound of my name.

Its then when I forget where we are. Forget how cliche it is to do what I know I want to do up here and I let it happen. I let go and trust in who we are and get lost in what I feel and forget all about the view of the blinking lights that are the city below.

----

Kimmydon Week 12 Entry: Waiting

Kimmydon
Wednesday





Picture 1Picture 2


Kimmydon's Choice: Both


Title: Waiting

The people pass me, heading... somewhere. I don't care. They don't notice me. I am just a girl on a bench, moping. I look at the reflective surface of the building, tracing the dark streaks tears had made on my face. I need to stop this. It isn't going to get better this way. This was temporary. What is my problem?

My mind drifts back to the night before, the morning he said goodbye.

"I'm going to give you something to hold for the next two weeks," he declared. He kissed me, unfastening my pants. I put my hands around him, pushing up his T-shirt and feeling the smooth skin of his back, the planes of his shoulder blades.

My pants pooled at my ankles and I lost my balance, falling on the bed. We both laughed. It was so like me to stumble, even into bed. He slipped off my socks and stroked my feet, still smiling.

I continued to chuckle until he put a kiss to the arch of my left foot. Then he started kissing his way up. I closed my eyes and clutched the sheets beside me. His stubble made tracing the movements easy. It tickled and stung and burned, but in all the best ways. When he reached my thigh, he turned his head, rubbing his smoother cheekbone along it. I felt his lashes as his eyes closed and heard a soft moan from him, barely audible.

"God, I'm going to miss you," he whispered.

I sat up quickly, pulling him up by his shoulders. I crossed my legs on his hips and hugged him tight. I could smell his toothpaste, his last cigarette. "I'm going to miss you, too. Very very much. Come back to me."

"I will." He put a light kiss on my temple, then another under my ear, and a last on the corner of my mouth. He slipped my shirt off now, leaving me naked across from him. He kissed his way slowly to my breast, his face intent, his eyes narrowed. I could tell he was trying to memorize every part of this moment. So was I. I would cling to it in the days to come.

Our lovemaking was slow and sometimes awkward. I got a cramp in my foot; he squished my arm under him. We always adjusted quickly and never let it cool our ardour. We were used to each other's quirks, weaknesses, strengths.

We played. He blew raspberries on my belly making me laugh and I tickled his feet with my toes.

Finally, exhausted, he spooned up behind me and breathed my hair in. I covered the hand on the bottom half of my breast and closed my eyes, relishing the warmth, the care, the love that was spread between us.

The sun was just peeking through the window when he woke me with a kiss. He wore only his jeans, the worn ones with a hole in the pocket. I kept warning him that I was going to use them for rags. He hid them until the time came.

"I have to go. They'll be here to pick me up any minute. But I had to say goodbye." He leaned over me and puts his lips to mine. I sat up on my elbows, wanting to pull him back into bed, but knowing he waited so long, just so I couldn't.

"Two weeks," he murmured pulling away. "I'll get that rig up and be back before you know it."

--

I hate when work calls him away. I hate sitting here, being a downer. I have been all day. The girls at work don't even ask anymore; they know the routine. A pair of kids walk by, probably high school. They chuckle together and I catch snips of their banter, making me snort. I look up and see my smile in the building. I remember being a kid, when we both worked hard because we had nothing, and he never left town. Now the work is simpler, the money easier, but he is far away.

I turn my back on myself facing the bench. I step onto the small ledge and lean out, hanging onto the rail. I look down at the ground. I pretend this is the edge of the cliff and he's going to catch me when I fall.

My phone rings and I slip off my perch, nearly falling. I scramble for my phone. A new text message: Just got in. Miss U already.

I type my reply: 13 days. you.

Sleep, dream of me. I'll be thinking of u.

I head home, trying not to think of the empty bed that waits for me. On our kitchen table is a post-it I don't remember noticing this morning. "Bathroom," it reads. Weird. I go into the bathroom and notice another post-it on the top door of the vanity. It holds his shaving supplies, so I never go in there. "Open me."

There is a velvet box. What the hell? He got me jewelery and isn't here to give it to me? Why not wait till he gets back? I pull it down and open it. Another piece of paper is wedged in the place of the ring. I pull it out smirking a little.

I know you hate having stuff sprung on you. So think about it. I'll do this right when I get home. Two weeks to think about the rest of our lives. I know how I want to spend them. Do you? I love you so much.

I pull out my phone and send a longer message: You are silly. I know exactly how I want to spend the rest of my life. Now get back here and share it with me!

It's a few minutes before I get his reply. It's not a message but a photo. It's the ring, on his pinkie. The message is: I'll take it off for work, promise. :-)

"Goofball," I murmur aloud. It's a very pretty ring. Not too ornate, just my style. I type again: I'd hope not, what would the guys say?

What they're saying now, to get home to my girl.

I didn't know how to answer that. He didn't let me: 12 days 22 hours.

I smile, curling up in our bed and snapping a quick picture of me hugging his pillow.

As soon as I can.

I know.

---

A/N I've been spending the past 10 days away from the love of my life (who I have already married ;) so this sprung to mind.

Romanticvamp Week 12 Entry: FAILED

Romanticvamp
Tuesday

Burntcore Week 12 Entry: FAILED

Burntcore
Tuesday

Another case of conflicting schedules, but Burntcore will be using the pictures to write a part time prompt.

Amelie Gray

Due to some conflicts in scheduling, Amelie Gray will be moving to the Part-Time site for a while. As in the case of most of us, we do have RL's and sometimes they just get busy.

I don't believe it's permanent, and we hope to see Amelie rejoin us soon.

Thanks again!

Bendingmirror's Week 12 Entry: Cloud Watching

Bendingmirrors
Sunday





Picture 1Picture 2


Bendingmirror's Choice: Picture 1


Title: Cloud Watching

When I agreed to go on a picnic with Tyler I assumed there would be actual food, and conversation. I should have known better.

Trading on our combined popularity, he'd been trying to get Bella Swan to reconsider her whole 'relationship' with Edward Cullen, and actually go to prom with him. I couldn't believe I was going to be playing second fiddle to that little witch again! I thought he'd asked me on this picnic so that he could buy himself some time to work up the nerve to ask me to prom. Honestly, I'm not even sure why it shocked me that he was just using our status to provoke a response out of the oblivious Bella.

I swear the boys in this school are all mesmerized by the nerd, just because she's an unknown quantity. I had been hoping that this year would be my year. Rosalie Hale was the most beautiful girl in school, but she was also completely untouchable. Being that my competition was an ice queen, I had hoped that I would get to go to prom with the most popular boy in school and maybe even be crowned the Prom Queen.

That all got shattered when I watched every boy in our grade lose their shit over that mousy little goody-two-shoes. So here I am, out on a picnic with Tyler bloody Crowley. Stuck in the middle of a god awful clearing in the woods listening to him go on and on about how fantastic he was in the last game of whatever the hell it is that he plays.

Is he really that stupid? Does he really think I'm interested in hearing about any form of team sport? It's not like any of our teams were ever going to make state play-offs. We were a small little school in the middle of nowhere, and the pickings were slim.

So here I am, stuck out in the open, on a pseudo-date with the idiot king. Its not even worth the the time and effort I put into my appearance. No one is going to see me out here, and Tyler wouldn't notice what I was wearing unless it suddenly all appeared on Bella's body.

I flopped back onto the blanket and tuned out the droning voice of the boy sitting near me. Looking up at the cloud formations I thought about all the times when we were kids that Jessica and I would veg-out looking up at the clouds and coming up with descriptions of what we were seeing.

Clouds shaped like flying clowns, balloon animals, tricycles, muffins and cartwheeling doctors had filled us with giggles and friendship. When had it all gotten so damn confusing? When did our friendly competitions give way to all out warfare over which guy liked who best. I closed my eyes and heaved a sigh, wondering how much longer Tyler was expecting to keep me out here. I was going to have to start working on some other boy to ask me to the prom, Tyler was just too oblivious, and I was never going to settle for being second choice behind Little Miss Pris.

A picture Prompt Writing Contest

A Picture is Worth A Thousand Words

A picture is worth a thousand words, so why don’t you write them?

The way things work:

1. Send a pm letting us know the character or couple that you want to write about and we will send you a photo of them.

2. You can interpret the photo any way you want and write a story about it.

3. Send us the link of the story and we’ll add it to the C2

Rules:

~either provide a link to your photo prompt or describe it

~Any and all pairings will be accepted: canon, non-canon, slash.

~Stories can be any genre: AH, AU, Vamp, AU-AH, romance, comedy, angst, drama, etc.

~Word count should be between 2,000 and 15,000 words, excluding header and author's notes.

~Stories can be written in any POV.

~Collaborations are allowed.

~You may submit as many entries as you may like.

~You may use characters from existing stories, but the one-shot must be able to stand on its own and be written specifically for this contest.

~One-shots can be continued after the contest only after polls are closed and winners are announced.

~Stories will be validated for content and grammar. You are strongly encouraged to use a beta. If you do not have one, Project Team Beta is an excellent source. Entries that fail to comply with this rule will be returned. You may correct your errors and re-submit up to two times before the deadline if you wish to do so.

Please Note: We will not accept entries that contain rape, pedophilia, or any other creepiness. If your story contains any dark themes, you must include a warning in your header or author's notes.


Dates:

Submissions will be accepted from August 1- August 14, 2010 by 11:59 pm (PST).

To submit your entry, send a link in the form of a PM. Once validated, the judges will add the one-shot to the Contest C2 page, and the author(s) will be notified via PM.

Voting:

Voting will take place August 16 – August 23, 2010 11:59 pm (PST) by means of a blind poll.

During the voting period, our judges will also anonymously choose their favorites in a few special categories.

Winners and Prizes:

Winners will be announced sometime on August 24, 2010.

Along with bragging rights, the first place winner will also receive three banners for the stories of their choice.

Second place will receive two banners for any story that they choose.

Third place will receive a banner for the story of their choice.

Anyone who enters may also have their photo prompt to use for whatever they will like.

Other prizes may be announced at a later time.

Banners will also be given for:

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Mandatory Header:

All entries must include this header...

“A picture is worth a thousand words"
Title:
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To view other entries for this contest, please visit http://www.fanfiction.net/u/2278443/

The hosts of this contest have the right to modify these rules at any given time.

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Anythingzombie's Week 11 Entry: With or Without You

Anythingzombie
Saturday





Picture 1Picture 2


Anythingzombie's Choice: Both


Title: With or Without You

We all had our vices, the things that made us click, the things that caused us not to be the person we could fully be. We all had our faults, and I couldn’t deny mine. I was destroyed by my very fear, my very nature. I was someone who I could never want to be. I had become a new person in such a short matter of time. I had become a ghost for less than an hour. I had changed.

-:-

I first met Billy Black on the night of a party. Renee and I had gone as a date—nothing too unusual. I had plans to get wasted completely and have sex in someone else’s bed with her, which was pretty much normal for she and I. But all my intentions were blown when I saw him.

He wasn’t extraordinary looking, but he wasn’t plainly ordinary. He was just someone I was really intrigued by. He had dark skin that captivated his whole body, giving him a roughed and aged look. His black hair went down to his back, making him look wise and tired in the wind. It was really something to see, and I found myself not able to look away.

He and a group of friends, whom were much the same, walked over to our group on the beach, probably wanting to join in on the revelry that had been happening. Renee and I were standing on the edge of the party, so we we’re greeted first.

“Party and we didn’t know about it? I sense a crime going on,” some boy jokingly said.

“No,” I started, my voice stale and lifeless, “It’s just a party.”

“Right…” that same boy started. “Well, since we live here ‘n all, could we participate in these festivities?”

Renee jumped in, her bright smile illuminating the tension. “Of course! Just don’t start any drama. Last time that happened Charlie here almost got stuck in jail for a couple of months.”

I turned my eyes at her and glared, letting her know that she was sharing too much information. She grinned at me with an acceptance in her eye. I hoped she’d let it go.

“Let’s get ‘em, boys,” that same guy said, quickly rushing past the two and into the large group. But one stayed behind.

“Sorry about Ephraim,” the wise looking one said. “He’s very…brute.”

“I can tell,” I mumbled.

“I’m Billy,” he said, sticking his hand out.

“Charlie,” I replied. His hand was warm and soft, not rough like I thought it’d be. “And this is Renee.” I left the part out where she was my girlfriend. I didn’t want to tell him that.

“Hi, Billy,” she replied, taking my hand from his. Immediately I missed it.

“Is this party any fun?” he questioned.

“Some,” the brunette replied, her smile bright and contagious. “The men are asses and the women are mighty…skanky, but you get used to it.”

“And what,” he began, “you two are neither?”

“No, I’m a mighty ass, but I try not to be,” I replied honesty, humor in my throat.

“And what about you?” he asked, his dark eyes on Renee.

“Oh, haven’t you heard? I’m too innocent for my own good, at least, that’s what Charlie here says.” She nudged me in the side and I felt suddenly embarrassed.

“I’m sure that can’t be all true. We’ve all got some type of inner animal in us—it’s just begging to get free,” Billy said, a type of wise-humor in his tone.

Renee turned to me, her hand on my chest softly and very quietly she said, “I’m going to go to the bathroom—wherever that is. I’ll see you in a few minutes, kay?”

“Alright,” I replied. She smirked and got on her tip toes, her lips pursed. I pecked her and smiled, feeling my cheeks start to burn as I noticed that Billy the Wise was watching us. The brunette eyed me, a question in her eyes. Obviously, she was wondering when I got so modest with how I am when it comes to her and her lips, but I didn’t answer back.

She left then and I didn’t watch her like I used to. Instead, I was watching Billy, who was watching me in return.

“Aren’t you going to join your friends?” I questioned.

He shrugged. “Not really. I’m not much of a partier.”

“Same.” It was mostly true. “Want a beer, though?”

“A beer sounds good.” I nodded my head and walked away, returning with a stiff one for the both of us.

We stood in front of each other, our eyes anywhere else as we drank the cold beer. It was rather peaceful, besides the loud noise from the large group of people. The waves from the beach were big and noisy, clearly trying to seem like they wanted the attention more. Billy and I gladly gave it to it.

“Want to go take a walk?” he asked after commenting that Renee had seemed to get caught up in the party.

It wasn’t very awkward between us, this I noticed immediately. It was as if we were friends or brother—we were instantly comfortable with each other as we walked past the wild sea and headed for the deep and dark woods, which seemed even more lively then the party or ocean put together.

We didn’t speak much, mostly because we had nothing to say. Instead we just trekked over the fallen trees, roots, and branches until we found an open place in the woods.

“Forks, right?” he asked.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” I answered. “And you’re from here, right?”

He smirked. “Actually, I’m from Seattle. I moved here with a friend and his family after I had trouble with my own.”

“I’ve been there before. But only with my dad.”

“Did he skip-out?” Billy questioned.

“Only in the end. He abused my mom, and me, and eventually I had had enough. I snapped. After he realized that I was no longer the scared, little boy, he left us.” Oddly enough, it wasn’t hard to share this information with the total stranger next to me.

“I’m sorry, man,” he said as he placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it gently.

That single movement caused me to change, not just mentally but physical. My eyes met his and a connection was formed. He licked his lips and I couldn’t help but feel aroused. I leaned in, inhaling his peppermint scent. Our noses touched, and then our lips. We kissed.

I wasn’t sure how I was going to feel, but I didn’t expect this. I felt scared and curious, completely intoxicated by his very touch.

A sound echoed around us and we jumped a part, our eyes meeting the lively hazel ones not too far ahead of us.

“Renee,” I stated.

She whimpered a bit and ran away. I felt myself running after her, and Billy ran after me. I stopped once I reached the boarders of the party, he stopped at the tree line. I looked back at him, noticing his ancient eyes had grown even wiser.

We both knew it then as I made my way through the crowd.

We’d never be together.

Miss-Beckie-Louise's Week 11 Entry: Perfection

Miss-Beckie-Louise
Friday





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Miss-Beckie-Louise's Choice: Both


Title: Perfection

I know I'm not perfect, but it shouldn't matter –right? I mean, perfection is overrated. You do what you want to do, not what anybody wants you to. You act the way you want to. I just happen to be a tomboy – it’s everyone else who has a problem with it... My comeback?

"Just remind yourself that it's okay not to be perfect. Everyone is different – we all like different things, it's not some world where everybody likes the same things. Otherwise there would be no diversity, no difference."

I hate telling people all of this; I mean, people are so small minded. I'm different, and I'm okay with that. It just happens that I like to wear plain clothes and play video games in my bedroom – there is nothing wrong with that.

My parents would love for me to be a "normal" teenage girl. By normal I'm sure they mean I’m supposed to be drinking, having sex, be included in all the high-school drama, wear makeup, run after boys and love chick flicks. To be honest; I hate all that. Well most of it, anyway. I love drinking and having sex, and boys. But make up, drama and chick flicks make me want to scratch my skin off, to curl into a ball and rock myself to keep it all together.

I hate the way girls on movies always look "Perfect". When my sister – who is a total chick, by the way – watches these movies she’s all like "ooh" and "ahh" and "Oh My God, he's so hot!"

I just roll my eyes and keep playing sci-fi games on my iPod.

There’s no such thing as perfection, and expecting people to be perfect – when it’s straight out impossible – is really just stupid. Nothing or anyone can be "perfect" – there are always flaws with something; a top is too short, a game's graphics hit an all-time low, or a spring goes in a bed.

Perfection... to hell with it.

Nostalgicmiss Week 11 Entry: The Reading

Nostalgicmiss
Thursday





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Nostalgicmiss' Choice: Picture 1


Title: The Reading

---

. . . Continued . . .

---

"I think he likes you."

"Oh shut up, jackass," I countered, shoving Haden out of my way. Tate's truck was still on the street, he hadn't even turned the corner and Haden was already on the warpath. Not t hat it was anything new for him. His goal in life seemed to be to torment me.

"What? I'm being serious."

"I don't want to talk about this with you."

"Why not? I'm your best friend."

How about because Tate was the first person I have been interested in since I realized how I felt about you? That the conversation in the truck on the way home had been one of the most relaxed yet stimulating conversations of my life? Neither of them would work so I improvised.

"Because you're a boy."

"I'm all man, baby."

"You're also very, very sick."

"Yeah well you've known me your whole life, why is that a surprise? Hey, can I stay at your place? I don't wanna walk the mile back to the apartment."

"You lazy shit," I laughed, looping my arm through his. "Fine! But if Ava calls me, you're dealing with her."

I wanted to have the strength to say no to him. Haden had always managed to get what he wanted from me without once having to beg for it. This though, this was dangerous territory, this meant he would be crashing in my bed with me in the most platonic way, even when my mind went somewhere else.

Most nights, I would climb out of bed and onto the couch so that I could get some sleep. My excuse in the morning had always been his snoring was so loud it kept me up. Sadly it was being that close to him and not being able to do anything about it that really kept me up at night.

We walked to my building in silence. Haden was texting one of his friends while I thought about my conversation with Tate on the way home.

He'd changed before meeting us outside the tent, I had been a little more freaked out than I liked to admit after the show, but I kept my cool, even more so when I saw he'd changed. He looked amazing in the sweater and jeans he'd changed into, and the girl in me couldn't help but notice the way the color of the sweater brought out the amber in his eyes.

To my surprise he and Haden seemed to have a lot in common, the two of them chatting easily as I traipsed along between them. It was Tate who had brought me into the conversation though; asking my opinion on how I thought the team was doing this year.

It wasn't like I had a lot to say on the subject, but he listened attentively anyway.

Haden had hopped easily into the bed of the truck when we reached it, and Tate opened my door for me, before strolling easily to the other side in the dark. He didn't say another word until we were on the highway.

Once we started talking, we didn't stop. We covered everything, from where we grew up to music and literature. The thirty-minute drive flew by too quickly and we ended up on my street quicker than I would have hoped.

When he asked for my number, I put it in his phone. I wanted to know more about him. Talking to him had been so much easier than I'd have imagined. I didn't want it to end, the hope that I'd had before the show had bloomed in the short amount of time I'd spent with him.

"Earth to Megan, come in, Megan."

"You what?"

"Welcome back, space cadet. I need your keys, you know, to get in."

"Oh right, sorry," I mumbled, digging in my pockets.

I found my keys and opened the door. I'd been so preoccupied I didn't consciously remember making it up the stairs. Haden fell on the small couch and picked up the remote to the TV, flicking through the recorded list on the Tivo Christa and I shared.

"Do not delete anything, Haden. I will let Christa murder you this time."

"I won't, I swear. You gonna watch TV with me for a bit?"

"No, I'm going to bed."

"Throw me in a pillow and blanket?"

"Sure."

I wandered off into my bedroom and grabbed the spare pillow and blanket I kept here specifically for the nights he stayed, I threw them at him from my door and waved a goodnight at him before closing myself in my room with my thoughts.

---

Life moved on as normal after my night in the woods with Haden and Tate. The only difference was, I spoke to Tate every night before I went to bed. If I had thought talking to him in the truck had been easy, it was nothing compared to our talks on the phone.

He was intellectual, funny and thoughtful. I had been doing some work on one of my papers when he'd called one night and we'd gotten into a philosophical discussion about nature vs. nurture. He'd been home schooled his whole life, but his mind was sharper than anyone I had spoken to in my classes. When I asked him if he could objectively answer which he thought was a more proficient method he said he couldn't. He had an argument for both.

He told me about his family and how they'd become involved in the line of work they had. His mom was blind and his dad was an outcast. He played off the situation as a joke, but the inflection in his words made it obvious. He was hurt by the rejection his parents suffered from society, and I couldn't blame him.

He asked about my family and my friendship with Haden. I didn't tell him all the sordid details but I was sure he'd figured most of it out.

After a week of intense phone calls we finally had a date. Just like everything else where Tate was concerned, it proved easy than I'd thought it would be. He never pushed for me to do something I was uncomfortable with, he just took his time, and before I knew it weeks had turned into months.

Three months to be exact and we still hadn't gone further than kissing when he dropped me off at night. Sure, I hadn't dated much, but I was still a woman, and I had needs. I had decided that tonight I was going to be the assertive one, I was going to make a move.

Unfortunately, for me, Haden had other plans.

"Oh come on, please."

"Any other night but tonight, Hade."

"Look, now your dating someone, Ava doesn't have a problem with you. This means we get to hang out more. You know how she is. If you turn her down tonight she'll take it all personally and not ask again."

"That's really not my problem."

"We don't hang out as much as we used to, I want to see you."

I groaned into the phone. Of course Haden would decide he wanted to hang out the night I had decided to amp things up in my relationship. Yet, I still couldn't say no to him, especially when he begged like this.

"Fine, one drink, but that's it. Just so she knows I'm willing to make an effort."

"That's my girl."

I rolled my eyes. I was happy with Tate, when I was with him the rest of the world fell away. Even when I spent time with Haden on my couch, like I had a millions times before, Tate was all I could think about. Tonight though, tonight would be the first time since the night I had met Tate, that I would be in the same room as the two of them and I hated the way it made me feel.

It wasn't that I feared reverting back to worshiping the ground Haden walked on, in some odd way I had finally managed to work through that. It was the fact that the two people I cherished most in the world were coming face to face, and the if they decided they didn't like one another I would be forced to make a decision.

It was irrational, I knew that more than anybody, but I couldn't help the voice in the back of my mind screaming at me.

"See you tonight. We'll meet at Pikes on Main Street, around eight?"

"Eight? Hade, that gives us an hour."

"Will you stop complaining."

"Fine. Whatever."

Haden chuckled on the other end of the line, knowing I would be there at eight because I hated being late. sometime knowing someone for so long was a pain in the ass.

"See you then."

"Yeah, yeah," I sighed, mentally sticking my tongue out at him. Haden was perhaps the only person who could bring out my inner nine year old. "See you then. One drink Haden. I'm serious."

He hung up the phone with a laugh. and all I could do was sigh in frustration. I hadn't planned on going anywhere tonight, and now I had to go and get dressed.

I moved slowly, not really paying attention to anything other than the underwear I had bought for the occasion. The plans for the evening had changed, but I was reluctant to give up on the end goal. I knew what I wanted and I wouldn't be giving up on it, not tonight. It was exactly three months to the day I'd been dragged over that bridge, exactly three moths to the day I had trekked up that hill, and more importantly, it was three months to the day I had met the one person that meant so much to me, he encapsulated my attention.

"Megan?"

"In here," I responded, smiling at the deep resonating voice. "There's been a change of plans."

Tate stepped into the bathroom and wrapped his arms around my waist, his face disappearing into my hair as he breathed me in. It was this kind of thing that drove me to buy the underwear in the first place. His hands were always like hot flowing lava through my clothes, even with simple touches like this, his breath made my knees weak every time it came into contact with my skin, and his lips – there were no words – when they touched my skin a fire ignited inside of me and never extinguished until he left me again.

This unintentional celibacy thing was killing me.

"Hey Meg," he crooned. "I thought you had a present for me."

"Oh I do," I sighed, turning in his arms. "You just have to wait a little longer for it. The quicker we're out of there the sooner you get it."

"Out of where?"

"Haden and Ava asked us to go get a drink with them. I'm sorry, I tried to say no but . . ."

"It's fine. Haden's been in your life forever. I think it will be good for me to get to know him finally."

"You say that now," I smirked, popping up on my toes to kiss his full lips.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, quirking his head while his eyes shone brightly.

"You'll see later."

"Well, lets go so we can get back then."

I laughed, my head falling back so my hair fell gently down my shoulders. Tate caught me by surprise when his lips brushed over my throat gently, cutting off the sound of laughter. The last of the air in my lungs was forced out with a groaning sigh.

"Do we have to go?" I mumbled, my hands tangling in his dark hair.

"No."

Tate's hands gripped both of my hips and hoisted me onto the counter, his hands moving slowly down the material of my dress until he met bare thigh. Any thought I had been having or had been in the in the process of formulating disappeared from my mind, as his warm hands moved up my thighs. We'd been playing this games for days now, every day he moved a little bit closer, but every day he pulled away.

Our lips met in a furious frenzy, my hands tangled in the soft hair at the back of his neck, holding him closer as his hand moved slowly toward the apex of my thighs. The sexual tension was a physical being in the room with us, pushing and coaxing as his thumbs brushed the skin in gentle circles as he moved.

My breaths were coming in stuttered pants as I tried to inch closer to him, tried to lead him home to where I needed him the most. My brain was fuzzy and had my eyes been open I was sure the room would have been spinning with anticipation.

"What time do we have to be there?" he murmured against my skin.

"Be where?" I moaned into room, my body shuddering as his nose nudged the material at my chest.

"We can't do this now, not hurried like this."

"Then we won't go."

I felt his lips curl into a smile against the flesh he was currently nibbling on.

"We have to."

"No, we don't. Haden will forgive me."

"Baby," Tate growled, the sound was feral and wild, and I knew that any further and there would be no stopping.

"Fuck. Fucking stupid Ava and her stupid rules."

Tate smiled, his lips pressing against mine as his hands retreated from under my dress. He was closer than he'd ever been and I was about ready to pull out my hair in frustration.

"You look beautiful, by the way."

I smiled and let my head fall against his chest. I wanted him so badly, I wanted to just call Haden and tell him I was trying to get laid and to back off, but I could already feel the heaving in Tate's chest evening out. The moment had passed.

"Thank you."

"Let's go do this. You said a drink, right?"

"Yeah. A drink."

Tate took my hand and kissed my palm, before easing me off the counter and rearranging my dress. With an arm around my waist he guided me out of the bathroom and into toward the front door.

---

Four drinks later, we were still in Pikes. Ava's nasally voice was grating on my sexually repressed nerves, and Tate's hands were burning my skin with his touch.

It hadn't been as bad as I'd first thought it would be. Tate and Haden seemed to share the skill of easy conversation, while Ava and I just listened. I had nothing to say to her, and it was no longer because of her being with Haden. This was strictly because of her idiocy.

I'd tried to bring up a conversation about our English lecture, the one class we shared, and she'd gone off on a tangent about how the professor seemed to like to stare at her breasts more than read pay attention to what she was saying. She was under the impression that he was so mesmerized by her boobs that he wasn't listening to a word she said.

Unfortunately, I did share the class with her and I knew just how wrong she was. When she answered a question she was always superficial, the material was deeper than she could fathom so she quoted the cliff notes, unfortunately she quoted them wrong.

"I'm bored," Ava declared, her claws digging into Haden's chest and interrupting him mid sentence. "Let's go do something different."

"Like what, Beautiful?"

"Oh, there's a psychic in town. Let's go get our fortunes read."

Tate and I looked at one another and back to the blonde that was clinging to my best friend in almost an indecent fashion. The most we'd done all night was hold hands, Ava didn't seem to have a limit.

"That could be fun," Haden perked up, making my eyebrows reach my hairline. "You guys up for it?"

"No, I think we'll take off. It's been fun though."

"Come on, Megan," Ava whined. "It's gonna be fun. Just go out on a limb for once."

"Yeah, come on, Megan," Haden said behind her back, pointing and laughing at me. "It'll be fun."

Ava turned around to thank Haden for backing her up and I couldn't help but Mouth 'I hate you,' and flick him the bird. Tate actually turned around so he could laugh at the action.

"Okay, Ava. We're going to have to go after that though. We made other plans and we rearranged so we could meet up with you guys. Haden said you were really looking forward to it."

Ava turned to Haden again and I knew she was silently questioning him. This time I pointed and laughed at him. I should have known he was behind this. Ava couldn't stand me.

"Right, then lets do this," Ava smiled, grabbing my hand and digging her hot pink talons into the palm. There were no words to describe how different the two of us were, and I had to admit I was actually glad.

"I'm so sorry," I cried, the moment Tate and I were alone in the truck. "I am going to kill Haden for this."

"For what?"

"Dragging this out," I pouted, sliding across the bench seat so I was close enough to kiss him. I let my hand rest on his thigh as I leaned in, my lips capturing his bottom one and sucking it between my teeth.

Tate groaned in pleasure, his hands wrapping around my body and pulling me closer. His hands fisted in my hair tugging gently so I would release the flesh I was biting down on, I obeyed and let his tongue penetrate my mouth and massage my own. The need from our earlier close encounter seemed to reignite, the kiss prodding at the embers to entice the flame once again.

"Hey!" Haden's voice filled the cab of the truck and was followed by the thumbing of his hand on the window. "Cut that shit out. We've come somewhere to be."

I groaned in frustration and buried my head in the crook of Tate's neck as he unwound the window. I didn't wait for visual confirmation of the grin I knew would be on Haden's face, instead I gave him the finger.

"Now that's just uncalled for."

"No," I protested, lifting my head so I could see him. "That was earned."

"You're such a drama queen," Haden sighed, the smile I'd expected nowhere in sight. "Follow us. Apparently Ava knows where she wants to go."

"Everything ok, Hade?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" he asked, turning around and walking away. I could feel the frown forming as I sat back in my seat. Haden's reaction wasn't like him and it confused me. I was beginning to think I should have kept my mouth shut about Ava wanting us to come out. It had probably caused an argument between the two of them.

"And he calls me a drama queen," I mumbled, winking at Tate who was watching me curiously.

"Come on," he grinned, holding his hand out for me to take. "The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can leave, and finish what we started."

"We could make a run for it now."

Tate laughed, and put the truck in drive, pulling out behind Ava's Barbie-mobile as she passed.

---

"What is she doing in there?" I groaned. We had been in the waiting room for almost an hour while Ava got her reading.

Haden had barely said a word since we'd arrive and Tate seemed to make it his mission to touch me in some form of fashion. Both of them were acting strangely so I chose to ignore them.

"Ava was going on about how different her methods were. I guess they take longer too," Haden snapped, sliding down further in his seat and crossing his arms. "Sorry if we're boring you."

"What is your deal?"

"Nothing."

"Yeah, seems that way."

"Okay, Megan. Your turn," Ava sang, dancing into the room and falling into Haden's lap.

I tried to hold back on my eye roll, I didn't even want to be here. I leaned in and kissed Tate before standing up and walking toward the door that seemed to feel like impending doom. This was just what I needed.

"Megan?" The woman asked, standing from her chair at what appeared to be a small card table.

"Yes ma'am."

"I'm Harmony. It's nice to meet you."

"It's good to meet you too," I smiled, stepping forward and offering my hand.

"Oh no, dear. No physical touching, I get too much information at once. Take a seat and I'll explain what we're going to do."

I nodded and sank into the chair opposite her, my hands tangled in my lap as a sudden burst of nervous energy seemed to take control.

She pulled out a tray of off-white squares and laid them on the desk in front of us. "I assume Ava explain my unconventional methods?"

"No, ma'am. She explained you were unconventional but didn't elaborate."

She nodded and pointed to the squares in front of her. "These are nothing mystical or binding. They're simple scrabble pieces. I cleanse them after each use because they work from your energy. I'm going to have you pick out seven pieces, you can touch as many as you want and take as long as you want, just go with your feeling."

Seven pieces? Was I really paying to play scrabble with this woman? I realized that she believed herself to be psychic, but this? It seemed unlikely.

"Your aura has changed color. You're unsure."

"Umm, a little skeptical I guess."

Harmony smiled. I apparently wasn't the first to question her methods.

"Pick seven as I asked. You may be surprised at the outcome."

I nodded and looked at the inoffensive squares in front of me. I picked out seven I felt "drawn" to, and sat back, awaiting the results. She turned them over one by one and examined them carefully, her fingers making them switch position until they spelled out a word I recognized.

Freedom.

"Interesting choice of word. Why do you think you chose the word?"

"I didn't, I just picked out a few scrabble pieces."

"You felt drawn to them."

I nodded my affirmation and sat back. "But why?"

"You felt bound to something, something you never considered forced on you. Now you're liberated you're seeing how restrained you were, how tied you were to – a boy?"

Haden. I had felt tied to Haden because I couldn't escape my attraction to him. He was my best friend and we were locked in an endless cycle.

"You know what I'm talking about. Your aura is very easy to read."

"I . . ."

"No need to explain. As long as you understand it, that's all that's important."

I nodded. Harmony shifted the word to her right and looked at me again. "You're doing wonderfully, now pick out six letters."

I took a deep breath, still unsure of how much to buy into this. I went through the same process, picking out the squares that seemed to attract my attention. One by one pushing them toward Harmony until I had six.

She turned them over and shifted them again, her smile brightening. The word in front of her legible again.

Beauty.

"You think your savior is beautiful. What he did for you opened your eyes to the world around you and now your tied to him. Yet, you don't feel trapped, to you he is the embodiment of everything you had been missing."

"How do you know there's a savior?"

"How else would you have broken the cycle? I also saw your aura when you considered who I was talking about."

I blushed. Even though she couldn't possibly know how her words were affecting me, she seemed to simply know.

"Now pick five."

Without hesitation I pulled the five I was most attracted to out of the pieces and pushed them toward her again. I finally admitted I was eager to see where this was going.

She arranged them neatly in front of her, spelling out the new word.

Truth.

"You should be wary. There is one who will test your new happiness. They will make you search for answers, every question you have asked yourself will be asked of you. I cannot see the outcome of this, please, pick four more. Quickly."

I seared what was left of the collection and slid the four toward her, my heart thumping. Somehow I had gone from being a non-believer looking at this with trepidation to a believer who was seeking the answer in scrabble pieces of all things.

Harmony turned the pieces and sighed in frustration. The letter sat neatly in front of her, spelling the one word I hadn't expected to see.

Love.

"You will find love once the truth is determined, but there is no answer past that. This is the end result, and your ending will be a happy one. You just have to find the truth in order to get there."

"I'm not sure I understand." None of it made sense. Who could possibly question this happiness and freedom I had found, and Why? Why would anyone try and take that away from me now I'd found it?

"You will, in time. The questions will come to you. Don't live your life according to this reading because the future can change. You must travel on the path you're on to come to this juncture in your life."

How the hell was I supposed to do that when I knew I would have a choice to make? A choice I didn't want to make. I was happy now. I didn't want to have to choose.

"Please, you have to have more answers than that."

"It is for you to discover, Megan. It will come in time, but enjoy what you have now, before fate knocks on the door and makes you rethink every decision you have ever made. Change is inevitable, and you know it's coming."

Change. It was inevitable and I had already been there. Now I was going to be faced with a decision. Something I hadn't known was coming, something I could only guess at. I just hoped it wasn't soon.

"Thank you, Harmony."

"You're welcome, Megan. Would you send in your friend, Tate next?"

"Of course," I murmured, heading toward the waiting room. The loop seemed to continue in my head with every step.

A decision.

A choice.

Change.

---

Got my pictures for Week 12!! Will be continued . . .

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Miztrezboo's Week 11 Entry: Last Call

Miztrezboo
Thursday





Picture 1Picture 2


Miztrezboo's Choice: Picture 2


Title: Last Call


I didn't want to let her go.

It's not everyday your baby sister leaves home. It's not everyday your baby sister flies half way across the world to trek in the footsteps of so many before her - yet its different this time because its your sister.

I wasn't really worried.

She was twenty six years old. She'd lived in New York City for crying out loud, on her own in an apartment that - according to google - was in one of the least safe parts of town.

She might have looked all small and innocent but she could pack a punch. She may have even used her charm more often than not in her job as a bouncer at one of the city's most popular clubs - but she could take down a six foot giant in a second if she wanted.

Alice was tough. I knew she could handle herself. I had complete and utter faith in her and knew that she'd find a way to stay safe.

Yet I still couldn't let her go.

"Rosie? Uh... Rose?"

I squeezed my eyes tighter and didn't relax my grip.

I couldn't let her go.

"Rose, hun. I kinda can't breathe here."

"Last call for Flight 219 to Buenos Aires. All passengers please make their way to Gate 34 for final boarding."

I choked back a sob. It was the big sisters job not to get visibly upset. To stay strong and act like it wasn't going to kill me to be apart from her. Especially when you were the badass older sister that actually talked her into this back packing trip around South America.

"I have to go, sis,"

"I know." I mumbled into her hair. Breathing in that cherry blossom scent that reminded me so of our angst ridden teen years slamming doors, stealing boyfriends and sneaking out.

"Rosalie. It's only one month. I'll call you every day."

I laughed and pulled back enough to see her face. Big blue eyes, wide, expectant and full of excitement. So clear I can see my own reflected but rimmed in red.

"I doubt you'll have reception when your walking around the ruins on Macchu Picchu but, as long as you think about me and flirt with all the single boys, I'll be happy."

Alice rolled her eyes and stepped back, but I was still holding onto her arms. "Rose-"

"I know." I mutter, pulling her back against me once more.

One last hug. Then I'll let her go.

----

Kimmydon Week 11 Entry: Imagine Following

Kimmydon
Wednesday





Picture 1Picture 2


Kimmydon's Choice: Both


Title: Imagine Following


I followed the signs, I obeyed the rules, that was why my life was so dull, so mundane. When I was supposed to stop, I stopped. When they asked me to slow down, I slowed down. But nothing could rein in the imagination that ran away with me.

Why was the limit 55? Why couldn't I turn from this lane? Well, actually the answer to those were obvious. What I really wanted to know was what was around the corner, where did the kids go after school? Would the detour take me somewhere new?

I obeyed the signs. Daddy had instructed me well. Momma was the rule-breaker. She was the one who learned hidden truths, loved a man who shouldn't be able to love her back,and bore a child that by all rights, should have killed her.

Did I mention, I love my Mom? Not that I don't love Dad. He's great! He knows everything I want to say before I say it. He answers my questions before I ask them. He's the perfect teacher and confident. But he doesn't break rules. The only time I know of him really trying was when he tried to kill himself because he thought Mom was dead. Even then, he asked first. Can you believe that? He asked if he could kill himself. My Dad....

Anyway... This sign was new. This place was pretty new to me. We'd been in the big house near Forks as long as I could remember, staying close to Grandpa Charlie.

He's another one for the rules. He's a police officer, so he makes sure everyone follows them. Still, I catch a gleam in his eye and know Momma didn't get all her rule-breaking ways from Renee. I don't call her grandma only because I've never met her, and never will. Another rule. Too dangerous for Renee. Sigh. Well, I have Grandmother and Grandfather and Grandpa Charlie, so I suppose I can live with that.

The sign is a simple arrow. Not a traffic sign, it is painted on the road in chalk. I look around. Momma and Daddy don't like me wandering on my own. I spy Jacob in the trees though, a red-brown furry shadow. Okay, I'm not alone. I will follow the arrow.

It leads to another arrow, this one also not on a sign. It's a piece of posterboard. It wants me to make a left. I watch for traffic and skip along. It leads me to a park. I start scanning for another arrow, a sign, something. I find it at the end of the block. It's small, and it's floating in the air. How strange. I reach for it and a small slip of paper comes off the silk thread. I tug slightly and can finally follow it to where it is tied to an overhanging branch. The breeze made it seem to fly. I unroll the paper and find a tiny pillow mint inside, pink.

"Eat me," the paper reads.

I laugh, thinking about Alice in Wonderland. Will this make me big or small? Big I hope. I've had enough of being small. I pop the mint in my mouth and turn the paper over.

"Oak tree," the back reads.

I look around the park for the only oak in it. I don't see Jacob anymore, but I don't worry. At the bottom of the Oak is a tiny door. I look down at myself, hoping I've started to shrink. I haven't. My feet are still size six and my legs are still twenty seven inches long. I will not fit through that door.

I lay at the foot of the tree with my face near the tiny window opening, peeping in. It's dark inside and I don't see anything. Is it a trick? Did someone just put a door here? Or is this really a rabbit hole, leading to Wonderland?

I decide to knock. That's polite; it's what Grandmother Esme would want me to do.

"It's unlocked," a voice answers. It is very quiet. I only hear it because my hearing is better than human. I put my finger tips to the knob, trying to grasp the tiny thing. I managed to turn the handle and open the door.

I see bark. Frowning, I rise, leaving the door open.

"Come in if you're coming! Otherwise, shut the door!" The voice is louder now, nearer.

"I don't fit," I answer.

"Didn't you eat it?" the voice asks.

"I did! But I'm not a normal person."

A tiny head peeps out the door. It appears to be a woman, four inches tall, with a long red braid down her back. "I'll say you're not. Look at you, shining in the light like a vampire. Come in, come in."

"But..." The woman turns, tossing something over her shoulder. The door grows to my size. Or I shrink. I'm not sure which. I think the door gets bigger, because she doesn't.

"What's your name, bloodsucker?" she asks cheerfully. She doesn't say it like Jacob; she says it like Daddy would say, "love." I step through the door into a room. But if this is a house, it has no roof. Still, there is light, furniture, walls. It looks like a house.

"Renesmee," I answer properly. "But I'm usually called..."

"Renesmee, lovely name. Now, drink this." She hands me a cup that is as small as the doorknob was and very hard to hold. "My name is Marikana. I have a shortened name, too, but I don't hold with that nonsense. Your Momma named you Renesmee for a reason, just like mine named me Marikana. Let's keep our full names, shall we?"

I nod in agreement. I tip the small cup over my tongue and feel a pinprick where the single drop of liquid lands. I give the cup back to Marikana. As she takes it, I notice it become heavier. I am shrinking! I stop at the same height as she is.

"Thank you!" I say, grinning.

"You are quite welcome, bloodsucker. Please, tell me how you came here." She motions to her table.

I sit opposite her and fold my hands in my lap. "I followed the signs."

She nods. "Of course you did. I knew that. How did you find the signs?"

"I was looking for them. They were in plain sight."

"Yes, they've been in plain sight for ten years, yet you are the first person to knock on my door." Just then there is another knock on a different door. "Will you excuse me? That will be Lantoka. He'll want you to call him Lan." Marikana rolls her blue eyes. They are striking, no pupils, just solid blue.

"Of course," I agree, watching her move to the rectangular, purple painted door. It was a stark contrast to the rounded wooden door I had come through. It had returned to normal size, I notice when I look at it now.

A man, the same size as Marikana, stands on the other side, dressed in brown pants and a green shirt. He has long black hair that hangs straight down his back. He has the same, odd, blue eyes with no pupils.

"Ack! Forgive me, Mari, I didn't know you had company. Wait... is that?"

"A bloodsucker," she says with a smile. "I was just asking her how she found us."

"I would like to hear that as well. I'm Lan." He extends his hand and I take it. His touch is warm, warmer than Jacob's.

"I'm Renesmee." Marikana smiles as I give my full name.

"A real pleasure to meet you, Ren-nes..." he stumbles.

"Nessie," I offer.

"Nessie! Lovely, I like that. So, you found the way?" he asks, taking a seat.

"Please, make yourself at home, Lantoka." Marikana puts her hands on her hips.

"Ack! I am so sorry, Mari. Forgive me. Do you mind if I stay a little?"

She shakes her head, her braid swinging. "No. Would you like a bun?" She pulls a basket from the counter top and sets it in the middle of the table. "Help yourself, Renesmee."

"No, thank you." I've never enjoyed cooked food.

"You found the signs," Marikana repeats.

"Well, yes. On the road, and then in the window, and then the note." I still held the slip which had changed size with me.

"I see. And why did you follow an arrow on the road?"

"Well..." I couldn't answer that. I didn't really know why. "I always follow the signs."

"Always?" Lan asks.

"Nearly," I nod as I speak.

"Why?" Marikana asks.

That's a good question. "Because my father taught me to?"

"Hmmm and he taught you to look for signs that aren't signs?"

I giggle. "No. No one taught me that. I just looked for them."

"She can't stay, Mari. You must see that."

"But she found them, Lantoka; she has the right mind. She follows even when she doesn't. We haven't had anyone come in so long."

"She is a bloodsucker. She wouldn't survive here. Our food won't nourish her."

They talk as though I'm not here. "Excuse me. I can digest human food; I just don't like it." I pick up one of the buns to show them.

"She's not a full bloodsucker, see." Marikana tells Lan, trying to convince him.

"No doubt part of the reason she's here. Obviously her parents don't follow rules either." He shakes his head.

I cough on the bun. It doesn't taste right. Lan shakes his head sadly. "Thank you so much for coming to visit us, Nessie. Please come back, any time you wish." He goes to Marikana's cupboard and pulls out two cups, refilling the one I had drank from previously. "You don't mind, do you, Mari?"

She sighs. "No, I suppose not. It was a pleasure to meet you, Renesmee." She took one of the cups as Lan hands me the third. They both raise their mugs and drink. I follow their example.
Even worse than the buns, this liquid does not sit right. Everything blurs and loses colour.
I blink, adjusting to the dim light. There is colour now. The dominant one being russet brown. Jacob. "What happened?"

He chuckles. "You fell asleep under a tree. Are you okay, sweetie?"

I rub my head. "I think so. I fell asleep?" That didn't sound right. I couldn't remember what had happened after I followed the arrow though. "Under a tree?"

"Yeah. I lost you for a moment, then I found you lying under an oak tree in a park in the middle of town. I didn't want to wake you, so I carried you home."

"How long have I been asleep?"

He shrugs. "Not long. Maybe an hour?"

"An oak tree?" I look at my open hand, the paper still there. I smile and close it again, remembering at last. I will visit Marikana and Lan again one day.

Romanticvamp Week 11 Entry: FAILED

Romanticvamp
Tuesday

Burntcore's Week 11 Entry: The Plan

Burntcore
Tuesday





Picture 1Picture 2


Burntcore's Choice: Both


Title: The Plan


I was running. I wasn’t sure quite what yet, but I knew I had to get away. There were too many questions and not enough answers. Everyone wanted answers of me and I wasn’t even sure if I understood the questions.

So I did the only thing I thought I could do. I ran. I ran into the forest to my private place. I stood at the top of a small hillock in the forest, and looked down back into town. The hazy light of the afternoon trickled in between the trees, casting me in partial shadow.

I didn’t know what to do. What did they really expect of me? I was just a kid, right? Okay, maybe not a kid, per se, but wasn’t I too young to be making decisions like this? I had just graduated from college, for shit’s sake. Wasn’t that enough of an accomplishment? Now they wanted to know what I was going to do with my life and where I was going to live and what my plan was. Plan? What plan? Who the fuck had a plan at twenty-one? I didn’t even know what I was planning on doing that night much less what to do with my life.

Sure, I had a degree, but I didn’t know what to do with it. I guess some people thought that because I had a degree, I had a plan. I didn’t. I majored in history because I liked history. But where did I go from here?

Everyone expected me to go into teaching. Their opinion was “What else could you do with a history degree?” But I didn’t want to teach. I just liked history. I liked finding where we came from and the stories of people that were long gone. I wondered what happened in the gaps of history that weren’t written about… and on things that happened behind closed doors that only the people there knew about.

I was startled by the sound of leaves rustling behind me. I whirled around and saw my boyfriend, Anthony, pushing through the brush to walk up to my private spot.

“There you are, Cara,” he said with relief as he cleared the last of the brambles.

“How did you find me?” I thought this was my own secret place. Even if it was only Anthony that found me, I was still a little upset.

Anthony looked at me with a small grin. “It’s not exactly a secret the fact that you disappear into the forest when you have things on your mind.” He rubbed a hand through his short-cropped brown hair and stretched.

I looked down at my feet and toed a few rocks. “And here I thought I was being slick about my special private spot.”
“Don’t be upset, Cara. Just because we know about it, doesn’t make it any less special. When you are up here, everyone knows not to bother you.”

“Then why are you here?” I didn’t mean to make it sound so bitchy, but I was still a little peeved that people knew about this place.

Anthony shook his head a little but didn’t take offense to my tone. He knew me well. “I came up here because I wanted to make sure you were okay. You’ve been on edge for awhile and I have been worried about you, baby.”

I finally allowed a smile as I looked up at him. “I’m sorry, Anthony. It’s just that everyone has been on my ass about what I’m going to do next like I’m supposed to know…”

He quirked an eyebrow up as he walked closer to me. “You don’t?”

“Well, no. I mean, shit, I just graduated from college.”

“Three months ago.”

“So? Three months ain’t much compared to my whole life. I don’t know what to do. What if I pick something and in two years I hate it? What if-”

Anthony took my hands in his and rubbed them gently with his thumbs. “Sweetheart, nothing is set in stone. If you don’t like something, you can change it.”

“But how?” I asked helplessly, pushing mousy brown hair out of my face.

“The same way everyone else does. You make a choice and move on.”

“God, you make it sound so easy,” I muttered helplessly.

“It is easy. You’re thinking too hard.”

Anthony pulled me gently into his arms and kissed the top of my head. I sighed and melted into his embrace. After being together for four years, he knew how to calm me down. His physical presence served as a balm to whatever emotional or mental turmoil I was going through.

He and I had met in college, only to find out that we were from the same town, just different parts. After we had met each other’s parents, we realized that we also knew the same people but never had the opportunity to cross one another’s path. It was all very ironic.

“That’s what you always tell me,” I mumbled into his chest.

“Because that’s what you always do. Your heart and your head fight all the time,” he murmured as he stroked my hair.

“How do I simplify it?” I whispered.

“Find common ground. What leads your head and what leads your heart?”

I pulled away from Anthony slightly to look at him.

“What?”

“If you had to do something right at this moment, if money wasn’t an issue, what would you want to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t overthink it. Just your first kneejerk response.”

“Um… write, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Well, I mean, I write a lot on my own.” An idea was forming in my head.

“You certainly do. I don’t think I ever see you without a notebook in your hand. So if you wanted to write as a career, what would you write?”

I considered this for a moment. “I’ve always wondered about the bits of history that we don’t hear about… the things that we have to fill in the blanks. I have a few theories of my own based on what I’ve learned.”

Anthony looked down at me with a big smile. “See? There you go.”

“But, it takes times to make money doing that,” I argued.

“Why worry about money?” he asked.

“Because bills won’t get paid and I won’t eat without it.”

Anthony considered this a moment as he ran one of his hands through my hair.

“Well, I have a pretty good job and I’ve been looking at getting my own place around here.”

“So, what does that have to do with me?”

“Move in with me,” Anthony whispered, leaning into me to kiss the shell of my ear.

“What?” I gasped.

“Move in with me,” he repeated. “We’ve talked about it before. Now we have a reason. I have a good job that can support both of us and you can concentrate on your writing.”

“I know… but when we talked about it, we were both going to be working,” I protested.

“You will be, you’ll be writing.”

“But that won’t p-”

Anthony interrupted me with a kiss. When he finally released me, he held my face affectionately. “You really do overthink too much. You know the kind of job I have. You know I can take care of you.”

“But why?”

“Because I love you, silly girl.”

I melted in his arms. He knew just how to sway me. I could follow my heart while still being true to my head. I’d still be responsible… and I’d have a Plan.

“I love you too, Anthony.”

“So, what are you doing to do?” he asked.

“I’m going to follow what’s in my heart.”

Amelie Gray Week 11 Entry: FAILED

Amelie Gray
Monday

Bendingmirrors Week 11 Entry: Sunday Morning

Bendingmirrors
Sunday





Picture 1

Picture 2


Bendingmirrore's Choice: Picture 1


Title: Sunday Morning


After a busy night of networking with Em’s boss and co-workers, we had thrown our clothes off and tumbled in to bed. Asleep almost before our heads hit the pillow. Waking to find myself in almost exactly the same position I had fallen asleep in proved just how tired we had both been.

The bright light that filled our bedroom clued me in that we had slept quite late. Not that we had plans to be anywhere today, just a lazy Sunday morning with no pressure to leave our little cocoon. Em’s breathing behind me was slow and steady, and the arms that surrounded me made it even harder to consider leaving our bed. I knew I’d have to get up though, the overly full bladder that had awoken me was not going to be ignored for long.

Sliding around within the confines of his muscular arms was a skill I had learned over the years. Emmett could sleep like the dead when he was this tired. Knowing that I wouldn’t actually be able to get him to release his hold on me without waking him up, I had perfected this move, rolling around to face him, slightly brush my index finger over that ticklish spot just under his ribs and he would do all the work for me. Just as I grazed my finger over the sensitive skin, he let out a soft grunt, and rolled on to his back, releasing his hold on me.

I moved as softly and quickly as I could, getting out of the bed without waking him up. I ran through my morning routine as quietly as possible, stopping periodically to check that he was still sound asleep. I especially loved the mornings when I could catch him unawares.

We had been so young when we first met, and against the odds had managed to hold on to each other through colleges on opposite sides of the country, and then building our careers. It was in these quiet moments on Sunday mornings when I could still see the boy I had fallen in love with all those years ago. His face relaxed in sleep, he looked innocent and closer to the naivety of our teen years. These days he was as likely to wear a suit and a scowl in the office, a sharp contrast to the open and easy going man who came home to me at night, but even then some traces of the scowl would remain until he was sound asleep.

I snuck back into our room and slid under the covers incrementally. I had considered making breakfast before coming back in, but experience had shown me that his stomach would wake him up before I got the chance to if I went that route. I would make a lavish breakfast after we had both surfaced for the day, in the meantime I would enjoy waking my man in the way I loved best.

Finally back under the covers and snuggled up against him, I heard a soft huff from him and knew I’d have to speed this up. Slowly licking my index finger, I reached over towards him, and stuck it in his ear with a war cry “Wet willy!”

Emmett woke with a startled squeak and a grin. There he was, this was the boy I had fallen in love with back in high school. His dimples appearing in response to the grin.

“Rose, honey, only you would still find it hilarious to wake me up on a Sunday with a wet willy. One of these days I’m going to get even, you know that don’t you?”

I slowly shook my head at him and pointed to the small blackboard we had propped on his bedside table. He laughed and shook his head at me, reaching over add another mark to my side of the board. I was ahead by almost 10 now, it was just a matter of time before he wiped them with one huge prank.

“You owe me breakfast, woman.” His sleep roughened voice sent a thrill through me, there were some days I couldn’t believe our luck. We had managed to find each other and hold on through our darkest days, these lazy Sunday mornings when we could prank each other and then laze the morning away with breakfast in bed were the highlight of my week. Especially when I knew that breakfast was almost always followed by us devouring each other.

I loved Sunday mornings.