#God bless my money printer

[dtubein23]

Jerome Powell King of Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

[thessalian]

Thess vs 'The Novel'

So I was drifting through the headlines my phone suggests for me, and one caught my eye, from the Financial Times. Now, while I didn't read the article (mostly because I'm pretty sure the FT is paywalled all to fuck), the headline by itself was enough to throw me into one of those rants that my friends mostly love to watch from minimum safe distance because apparently I am very eloquent and kind of amusing when I'm passionate about something but no one wants to be in splash radius of my rage.

The title went thus:

"Are video games coming for the novel?"

.........

Short answer: no.

Long answer: noooooooooooooooooooooo.

Detailed answer: THEY ARE TWO ENTIRELY DIFFERENT MEDIA, YOU INSUFFERABLE STRING BEAN!

First of all ... novels and video games fit into entirely different niches in a person's life. You are probably not going to be playing Baldur's Gate 3 while waiting for your bus. You are not going to do a private livestream of whatever the current Super Mario game is as a bedtime story for your children.

And some people? Just can't play video games. A book is accessible to everyone - with braille or large-print books, with audiobooks or text-readers... Hell, with ebooks so you don't have to hold up a heavy-ass book and turn pages. There are days I hurt too badly to put hands to mouse and keyboard to play a game but I can hold my Kindle with the right support. And a book doesn't require you to have a certain skill level before you can get to the end of the story. When I pick up my copy of the latest Toby Daye novel, it doesn't ask me to do a little jig before I can turn to the next page.

Hell, sometimes we don't have time to play a video game where we do have time to read a book. Some games have a lack of save points as a point of pride, whereas a book will always be there to pick up ... and frankly to open wherever you want, whenever you want, at whatever stage you want. I can't skip the entire Lothering section of DA2 and move straight to Kirkwall, but I can skip Alex Price flashbacks about seeing his first couatl.

Not to mention, you get more variety in novels. While there's a lot of shovelware kicking around Steam, there are a couple of centuries of books out there; more all the time. And y'know what else? The person that wrote those novels? They almost certainly cared more about the story than a lot of AAA game company execs will let their writers care about the story sort of haphazardly stapling The Next Big Blockbuster Game together.

(Okay, sometimes that's a bad thing - looking at you, Stephenie Meyer, and yes I read each and every one of those novels and if that's your thing then gods bless but holy fuck if I had to look at the passive voice one more time I was going to scream - but still. Passion for the craft.)

I'm not shitting on video game writers, by the way. Some of them do great work. Hell, I've heard more inspiring lines from video game characters than I have from just about any politician in the last ten years. Just ... sometimes you want all the words. That's the problem here - the devaluation of just words. Writers can give you a full sensory experience with nothing more than ink on paper and ... I guess they probably use laser printers now, when they're not ebooks. Sometimes we just want that.

I think the problem is that frankly, books don't get enough press. People don't go berserk for books the way they do for video games or TV shows. Hell, if a book doesn't spawn a movie, TV series or, frankly, a video game (looking at you, Witcher - YES there was also the Netflix series but it was novel series, then video game, then Netflix series), most people aren't very vocal about their interest. And it's not like publishers are doing anything like a decent job of promoting their authors - not unless said authors are already verified money-makers. Which ... the way they're going, the only reason they have any new verified money-makers is sheer dumb luck.

I swear to the gods, people make up these stupid clickbaity headlines and ... I mean, it's the Financial Times. They look at "Video Games = Story + Shiny Pictures + All The Marketing" and "Novels = We Hear Nothing About this" and don't think about the dozen or so people they saw looking at a book, an e-reader or their phone (which is at least sometimes an e-reader app) on the daily commute, in the break room, at the local Starbucks... Nobody wants to have the ability to experience all aspects of their fictional escapism restricted to a medium that's entirely dependent on a certain skill set.

Dear Financial Times: do not come for "the novel" just because they don't generate the same buzz as video games do. Actually think for five seconds about what you're saying here. The format may change; one day we may in danger of losing dead-tree press the same way we did the floppy disc. But the craft of telling stories with written words alone? That can't be replaced with "Press X To Not Die".

[thekatebridgerton]

Now here's my honest review of season 2 gentle reader. And beware beware I have never held my tongue Infront of all of you

SEASON 2 BRIDGERTON can be summarized in one sentence for me: WHAT THE F NETFLIX

I'm sorry I was not aware I was watching the kissing booth 5. Because it seemed to have been written by the same writers who delight in reducing characters to love triangle plot devices

I understand Bridgerton had to stop production multiple times due to COVID-19 and this may have resulted in less intimacy scenes but cero intimacy at all?? Do the creators hate Kanthony?

Let's start with the plot. Those of you who know your classic Indian movies. Tell me this plot between Kate Anthony and Edwina didn't scream 'Mujhse Dosti Karoge' to any of you. Except that 2002 Mujhse Dosti Karoge did it better. Google the Bollywood movie dear readers its one of my favorites

The whole 'marry her even when you love me' thing. Not all viewers know their Bollywood movies but I certainly know mine and I smell a distinct lack of creativity in the writing room for this classic to be what they choose to copy.

Was the writing team responsible for adapting the source material of the viscount who loved me also among those who had COVID-19 during the production hiatus?

Netflix I demand to see your books, so I can know where all your budget went. Because it certainly didn't go to the writers room.

I honestly did not understand what was the big deal about Anthony not being able to marry Kate. He's a bloddy viscount! He's got a title. His reputation will survive and so will his family's if he marries the sister of the young lady who jilted him. He is a peer of the realm and he's rich. His sister is a duchess!!

Why was the ton acting like it would be such a scandal? Not even Penelope saw fit to make fun of the situation in Lady Whistledown. That's how meh it was.

Kate is all I expected her to be. Except I did not see enough of her and that made me angry. Who cares about Jack and Lady Featherington. I wanted to know about Kate's life in India with Edwina, Mary and her father.

Hate to say it but the Sharma family was better developed in the books. Kate's trauma with storms and the death of her parents seemed entirely removed and I can't believe I'm saying this but the whole love triangle plot made me MISS SIENNA

Gosh I can't believe there would be a day I'd be asking for Sienna to be back.

Anthony's man pain took presedence over Kate's story which is all well and good but I can't help but think that whoever was in charge of season 2 hates Kanthony as much as they hate wholesome female friendships. Of which I found none in season 2

Kate treated Edwina like a child, Edwina treated Kate as her surrogate parent, Eloise and Penelope spent the entire season being low key judgmental of each other. As was Violet, Mary Sharma hardly spoke up for herself, and God bless Genevieve Delacroix really. The only woman with sense in that ensemble

Francesca disappeared to God knows where. But given that Eloise was off romancing a printers apprentice right under her family's noses I have no doubt that the far more discreet Frannie was off expanding her her drug empire From Bath to London with the help of her brother in law Simon.

Daphne at least grew on me. She's a far better secondary character than she was a main. Although everytime she opened her mouth to talk to Eloise I was waiting for someone to call her out on the hipocrysy. Daphne you literally married your Duke because Anthony was all 'pistols at dawn mate'

Eloise, darling I was rooting for you to shake up the ton and speak your mind to your would be suitors. Instead you pull a Colin and run off from camera to prove you lack common sense, at whatever chace you get

Also is the printer man okay? Penelope wasn't particularly nice as the Irish maid but the printer deserves our respect for being a good business partner. I hope he still earns a lot of money

Colin and Penelope were okay but gosh the season was already painful enough without pushing forward the scene that broke Penelope's heart.

The Featherington plot was unnecessary but funny. And Portia IS quite growing on me.

The show is really going out of it's way to hammer down the fact that Colin is a pretty gullible idiot isn't it? Are they trying to convince me he lacks the braincells necessary to deserve our Penelope? Because if so, they're succeeding

It was naturally a delight to see sir Phillip again. He's still the most adorable of all Bridgerton future spouses and I hope we see glimpse of him in later seasons. Marina... Well her personality has not changed, I'll give you that

Benedict. Sigh. Wholesome idiot. Next

Also What the F was up with Lady Danbury?? What was the point of spending 7 episodes cockblocking Kate? Why exactly? Street cred? The opinion of the queen? Satisfying her own pride?.

At least Queen Charlotte is consistent with who she is and her motivations in general. Lady Danbury baffled me to no end.

I feel like the only episode worth watching was #8 because at least the pacing is what it should be in episode 8. Even if it felt like a huge cliffhanger to not even give us a wedding

Overall Season 2 was obviously made for show viewers. Not book purists like myself. I look forward to discussing s2 with all of you. But this author feels that a year and 3 months of anticipation were just dashed and it certainly wasn't what I expected

The good news is, there's still fanworks. And I can definitely find many fanfiction writers ready to rewrite that mess of a season 2 into something that's less of a letdown.

If you put them in my inbox I'll give a signal boost.

And that has been the tea

[msilwrites]

(A 3AM Update) A True Gentleman, Chapter 21 - A jealous husband?

A/N: Chapter 21 is up! Isaac confronts Diana, like a jealous husband! By the way, Henry, Diana's cousin face claim is 'Henry Cavill', and Sam McLean's face claim is Sam Heughan.

Oh, before I forget, if you don't like the story, please do move on to others, the internet has lots of them. Please don't hurt writers, ya? Good! so without further ado...

TWENTY-ONE

A jealous husband

"Diana!" her cousin, Henry approaches her. "That was a stellar performance!" he compliments.

Every time Henry and she are seen together, people often mistake them for siblings. The blue cold eyes, thick eyebrows, strong jawline, and dark hair were the signature that belonged to their family.

"Thank you, Henry!" was her grateful reply. "But I know why you are here for, go and lead the way!" she says, as he leads her to where her father sat. She knew what Henry approached her for. It was time for her father's interrogation and lengthy sermon.

Francis watched Henry, followed by Diana, approaching him where he sat.

"Relax Uncle..." Henry says, as he taps his uncle's shoulder, telling him to listen instead of scolding Diana. He then walks away to give the two space.

He took a deep breath before turning to his daughter. " Why don't you take a seat..." he offers, patting the empty space beside him, which she took.

"First of all, why are you singing at a wedding?" he tried to sound calm instead of being confrontational.

" I was trying to earn money to buy a 3D Printer," was her direct answer.

" Why?"

"I'm trying to build a small workshop studio, and I need a 3d printer..."

"Oh..." Francis was taken aback, he didn't expect his daughter to have such plans. "But what happened to the money you got from the sale of your old penthouse with Jesse?"

"That, I'm keeping it to the side. I plan to use it to buy real estate and most probably have the place rented for passive income. If not, I'll turn it into the workshop studio. I planned to save money, but I think I'd earn more if I were to rent the place out."

His eyes widened in disbelief, was this still the same Diana whom he met a few weeks ago? No! This Diana has ambition, plans and direction. She was actively taking charge of her life. "Wow! I did not expect that... That is actually a good plan"

Diana smiled and just nodded.

"Do you need help?" he offers, sincerely this time, without a hint of being condescending.

"Maybe? From time to time, Thank you! Da!" Diana says gratefully. "Your advice and input would be helpful from time to time" she adds.

"That was a stellar performance by the way!" Francis complements his daughter. " Those wedding songs reminds me of a time when I was..." he said trying to find the word.

"Hopeful? Yes, I did feel the same..." she admits to her father.

Francis sighs. " You know, I really did love your mother. It may have not gone well for the both of us, but not once did I regret loving her,"

Diana looks at her father, surprised at his sudden confession. Not once did her father open up to her about this issue.

"Why?!"

"Why what?"

"Da! She hurt you!" she exclaims.

"Yes, she did... and I may have done things that I shouldn't have, but what happened to us in the past, is what makes us who we are now. We grow and become wiser,"

"I guess you do have a good point..." she agrees. It made her think about her past abusive relationships, and what it thought her. Though it was terrible, it made her learn and it made her wiser.

"So how did you exactly end up here?"

"That's a really long story..."

" We have a lot of time,"

She began her story (omitting some parts of course) and told him about the music director Aedan looking for an alto-soprano which led her to where she is now.

"I see... I am glad you're able to use your classical training, anyways, when is the date of your performance?" he inquired.

"Why?"

"I want to see it of course!" he declares.

**********

"I see trees of green. Red roses too, I see them bloom. For me and you. And I think to myself, What a wonderful world..." Diana opens the dance floor for everyone, with the song 'What a wonderful world'. The strings followed, in harmony with her voice.

Couples, young and old, approached the dance floor and began dancing to the sweet tune.

The night was about to end, and she was grateful that her performance went well. Hopefully, she would also perform well with the orchestra at the outdoor theatre.

"I see friends shaking hands, saying how do you do They're really saying I love you..."

She scanned the area and saw her cousin, Henry, being surrounded by girls. She stopped her from rolling her eyes, knowing that he was a known ladies man, even since they were young. On one side was her father who seemed to be enjoying himself, chatting with others. The atmosphere felt jolly that she swore she'd try to catch up with Henry or talk some more with her father after finishing the song.

"I hear babies cry. I watch them grow. They'll learn much more than I'll ever know. And I think to myself... What a wonderful world Yes, I think to myself... What a wonderful world. Ooh, yes I think to myself... What a wonderful world..." and with the last verse, Diana closes the song and the audience applauded. She smiled and thought, that it was still somehow a wonderful world despite everything she had gone through, there was still things she was thankful for.

With a sigh, she gives a toast to the newly married couple, and then turned to the quintet and thanked them, which gained her another set of 'Thank you's coming from them.

She looks around and found the bar, wanting a cold drink, preferably a beer. It's been weeks since she had anything cold and gassy. It wouldn't hurt from time to time to have an ice-cold beer after a long day of singing.

Wasting no time, she requested a pint of ice-cold craft beer on tap from the bar-tender, and he quickly poured her one large pint, its surface bubbling.

"Good job out there, you earned it, enjoy!" the bartender says, before moving to other requests.

"Thanks!" was her response.

She looked around trying to find Henry or her father in the crowd, whilst drinking her glass. However, before she could even make a move. Her father had already gone up to the podium, about to start his 'godfather' speech and before she could even look for Henry, a handsome guy had already sat beside her and tried to engage her in a conversation.

"Hello..." was his greeting, his voice deep. She looked at the colour of his kilt's Tartan, and immediately knew which family he is from.

"Wait! your name is probably something McLean!" she declares.

"Oh! wait, are you a Scott too?! Well, I am Sam McLean..." he said, stretching his hand for a handshake which she gladly took. She felt a little confident today, and talking to a handsome man isn't so bad thing to do to pass the time. Unless he actually is an asshole otherwise. She already has an escape plan.

"You may call me, tonight..." was a flirty yet witty reply from her, causing Sam to laugh. "Or you may address me as, Diana"

"Well, Diana, that was a stellar performance throughout..." he compliments.

"Thank you! I'm glad you like it,"

"You have a very nice voice! So... may I buy you a drink?!" he offers.

"Of course! Or you could get me food since I haven't had my fill yet..." she said sheepishly, not having eaten anything yet.

"Oh! of course! what do you want to eat? I'll get it for you!" he offers.

" Cake" she implores, placing both her hands together as if praying.

"Of course, I'll be right back!" he said, immediately taking a small slice on a plate for her.

"There you go! Enjoy!" he says, pushing the small plate to her.

"Thank You, Sam!" she chuckles at the mention of his name. It was the same as the pseudonym she used when she wrote those 'love' letters to herself. "Thank you. I'd say 'God Bless you!', but it looks like He already did." was her flirtatious reply followed by a wink.

Sam bit his lips and laughed. He didn't know how to respond to that. "Thanks... I guess..." he holds his laughter, and clears her throat, "So Diana, what do you do? Besides singing? "

"I am independently impecunious..." was her answer.

Sam throws his head back laughing, knowing that he had found a hilarious person and the night will definitely not be boring.

"Enough about me, Sam! Let's talk about how attractive you are!" she adds.

Sam takes a deep breath but ended up laughing once again. " You're too funny for words!" However, before he could even say more...

"Sammy, laddie, hands-off! that is my daughter you're flirting with!" Francis chastises Sam from the podium after he finished his speech, causing everyone to turn their attention to Diana and Sam at the bar, upon finding out that she is Francis' daughter.

"Well, nice to meet you Diana!" he says. "Yikes..." and slowly backs away from her. It didn't matter how beautiful she is to him, she was Francis's Rutherford's daughter and there is no way she would want to incur her father's wrath.

"Sam? wait!" she says, perplexed at his sudden change.

**********

"Sam is an international playboy, he isn't the ideal man to date!" Henry says as he fiddled with his phone. Seated beside him inside the car is his cousin Diana, whom he ended up sending back home instead, as his Uncle, Francis, still had to stay at the wedding reception.

"Oho! You're one to talk Henry! " Diana chuckles, knowing her cousin's reputation.

"It can't be helped..." was his response.

"Should I tell the girls who chase after you, the same thing you told me?"

"It won't work... they'll chase after me more!" he declares, and both of them erupted in laughter, including their chauffeur in the front seat of the car, at how true the statement was.

"Well, aren't you afraid I'd chase Sam more?" she asks.

"You won't" was his quick reply.

"Because life has already knocked some sense out of you..." was his confident statement, aware of what Diana had gone through, all those years.

"I guess you're right," she sighs and smiles at herself, turning her attention to the view outside the car, whilst a classical piano rendition of 'Moon River' played inside the vehicle, making it a relaxing atmosphere.

"Lady Rutherford, we're here..." their chauffeur announces, and he gets out of the 'Ghost' to open the car for her.

"Thank you, Higgins!" she says, referring to Henry's chauffeur who opened the car door for her.

Henry followed after, alighting at the other side of the car. "Let me send you to your door..." he offers.

"Yes, walk me there," she says, as Henry walked beside her.

"We should have lunch sometime, eh? It's been a long time since I caught up with you!"

"Yes, we should do that" she agrees.

" If you don't mind, Mum wants to catch up with you too, can she come along?"

"Of course Aunt Minerva is more than welcome! How long has it been?!" she realizes suddenly that she had met her immediately family for years now since she started her relationship with Jesse, that was no longer the case now.

"It's set then" he declares, trying to find a spot inside his phone's calendar. "I'll set the time next weekend..."

"Alright! Well here's my door" she says turning to him to give him a quick hug.

Henry gladly returns her embrace " I'm glad you're in a better place now!" he adds, giving her shoulder a squeeze as an affirmation. "Well, I have to go, I have an early day tomorrow!"

However, before Henry could leave, the door opens to reveal Isaac, glaring at him.

"I'd normally say get a room, but this isn't a hotel" was the first thing Isaac said, the moment he opened the door, and 'caught' Diana, and some man, embracing each other in front of his door.

Henry looked at him puzzled, and when he realized that Isaac got the wrong idea about them, he released Diana from his arms. "Eww..." he grimaced and quickly turns around and gave a two-finger salute before he left "See you, Diana!"

Diana took a deep breath and suppressed the urge to burp before entering the house. She had four large pints of beer and 2 slices of cake which made her feel bloated, which made her feel regretful going on a drinking spree.

"Diana?" Isaac called, which she almost didn't notice because she was busy nursing the bloatedness.

"Mmmmm?"

"Remember you had 10 things you have to do for me?"

Diana just nods and covers her mouth, trying to burp as silent as she can. "Yes..."

"Well, I'm gonna use 1, let's have a talk..." was his stern reply.

"Dr Skovgaard? can we do this tomorrow?" she pleads, as she was bloated and tired.

"No, because I don't know where you will disappear to again..." he reprimands.

She sighs as she follows him to the dining room where a long session of scolding and preaching awaits her.

She sits down, resigned to her situation and prepared herself for Isaac's long preaching.

"Diana, you often disappear and reappear to I do not know where to, it's like I'm living with a Ghost. And when I message you, you do not respond..."

"But I do respond!" she reasons.

"Yes, two days later..."

"Oh... hehehe... I'm busy, sorry, please don't be mad at me" she apologizes, and laughs softly, struggling to also hide her drunkenness.

"Busy with what exactly??!!" he inhales sharply.

"Uhhh.... you know, things? work? earning a living?" she says a little sluggish. "You know, I gotta earn my keep..." the Scottish accent of hers, starting to come out.

"Men!?" he adds.

"Ahahaha yes... men" she giggles. "I'm not really busy with them, they're busy with me, which in turn... takes up a portion of my time, they're handsome, eye candies! So I guess it's worth the time..." she laughs.

"Unbelievable!" he throws his hands up in the air in exasperation.

"Dr Skovgaard, what are you really scolding me for?" she says, trying to suppress another burp.

He sighs " First, you disappear to who knows where and then reappear a few days later! You leave my message on 'read' and respond to them a day or two later as if I'm a weird guy you have been avoiding, and then you came home late, drunk! In the arms of another man! Do you know how I felt, do you know worried I was?!" he stressed out.

Diana stares at the tall ceiling and then laughs at the realizations " You make me sound like a stray cat who just comes home to eat!"

"I never said anything like that." he shakes his head in disapproval.

"I know... I'm just visualizing..." she adds, waving it off.

"Diana, you're not taking any of this seriously-"

She didn't know if it was drunkenness, but she felt a little brave, and without warning, got up from her seat and wrapped her arms around Isaac. "Alright, my love... I'm sorry, so sorry, I promise not to do it again!" she says, as her arms tighten around his waist.

Isaac, caught off-guard, stood there, frozen, unsure of how to react. "Diana?"

Diana just laughed, as she brought her hands to his cheeks. If anyone were to see them right now, it would look like they were a couple making up, after having a banter. "Oh, Dr Skovgaard... you sound just like a jealous husband!" she exclaims and laughs at his face. "You know I'd normally kiss you, but I'm not your beau..." she adds, tapping his cheek. "So, let's end this argument, and call it a day! I'm sorry, alright?! Good Night!" she says, kissing his cheek.

Isaac jolted in surprise due to her actions. He felt his cheeks, starting to get warm.

She releases Isaac from her embrace and sluggishly walked back upstairs, to her room, whilst singing a funny Scottish folk song and laughing halfway.

He sits down for a moment to collect himself and tried to process what had just happened. Trying to make sense of the feeling he currently has in his chest.

A/N: I have most probably made some grammatical errors, here and there... so I'd do some soft editing. I hope you enjoyed this one! I would also love to hear from you in the comments below.

[thethoughtsfromthreeam]

Monument Woman

Pairing: Marcus Pike x OC (Rosemary Carter)

Warnings: None

A/N: God, I have been wanting to finish this story for weeks, but once we got out of quarantine, I lost all ambition to write.  So, I’m glad I finally have enough of a cushion to get part 1 out to you guys.  I won’t be following my old posting schedule, but I hope I don’t go so far between posts that you all forget about me!

Reminder: I ain’t ever seen Pedro Pascal in FUCK ALL, I’m just coming up with this as I go along, using imdb.com, wiki, and 84,000 tabs I got open to plan out this shit.  I also write soft versions of his characters so if you’re craving asshole vibes, I ain’t got any but my own to offer.

Tag List:

@zeldasayer , @romanticgumchewer, @beskars , @coolmaybelateruniverse , @the-feckless-wonder , @pascalisthepunkest , @mandoandyodito , @randomness501 , @fioccodineveautunnale  , @ahopelessromanticwritersworld [please message me to be added or subtracted]

Part 1 – And So We Begin 

“Thank you for calling Fort Jamison Historical Museum, this is Rosemary. How can I help you?”  The jaunty-sounding phrase rolled off her tongue automatically with little thought behind it until she heard the wizened chuckle on the other end.

“Do you always answer your cell phone like that?”  She pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned as Robert Lancaster’s chuckle morphed into a hearty laugh.  She couldn’t help but giggle along as she dropped her pencil and took off her glasses, setting them on the desk in front of her.

“You know, sometimes I do, especially when I’m not paying attention.” Rosemary leaned back into her chair, propping her feet up on the desk.  Her free hand dropped down to fondle Banana’s ears as the dog snoozed next to her.  “What’s up, Robert?”

“I’m doing some spring cleaning at the house and shop.  I got quite a few boxes accumulated, including stuff I’d like to donate to the museum.  When do you think you can come down to look through them?  I don’t expect you to take them all, but there are a couple of items I want you to specifically have.”  His voice sounded muffled over the phone as he bent down to toss another book into the Friends of the Library box.

“It’s a little slow this week,” she started as she checked the calendar on her wall.  “Looks like I can come as early as tomorrow.  So, if that works for you, I’ll bring the paperwork with me and we can just get it all done at once.”

“Oh, great!  I was hoping you could come soon.  It’s been a while since we had time to visit.”  His smile was evident in his voice.  “Can you do the paperwork on the computer?”

“Sure, we have the fillable PDFs.”

“Even better.  Just bring your laptop and we’ll work on it as we go through everything.  We can connect to the printer here and then you don’t have to worry about doing any of this at the office.  By the way, do you think you’ll have time for lunch?”

“Robert, you know I always have time for you.”  She smiled.  They had been friends for ten years by that point and he never failed to ask the lunch or dinner question and she never failed to make time for him.  Robert had been her first friend when she arrived in Michigan and the long-running friendship between the perpetual bachelor and the bold curator was stuff of area legend.  

There had been speculation of a May-December romance between the two, but Robert saw the younger woman as the daughter he never had and on her part Rosemary saw Robert as the father figure she lost when her grandfather passed away.

“Want to do Phil’s or Coral Gables?”  She smiled.  Just as their dates were always guaranteed, she knew that their location was as well. But it was habit to ask and it never felt right if she didn’t.

“Why do you even ask the question?  You know it’s supposed to be nice tomorrow, Coral Gables’ patio all the way.”  The two chatted a bit longer before they hung up, returning to the rest of their respective duties.  Rosemary sat up and Banana whined when she stopped petting him.  Spoiled dog.

“Sorry, Baba.  Work calls.” She stood up from her desk and wandered down the hall to the director’s office, knowing Helen was at her desk.  The third floor of the museum was workspace for the staff and despite working there for so many years, Rosemary never failed to draw an appreciative breath at the stunning sight of the Kalamazoo River.

As she ambled down the hall, Banana’s nails clicked on the tile floor, hinting that she wasn’t alone on her journey.  She smiled as she waved her hand and the dog rushed to her side.  The two slowly walked to the director’s office, warming themselves in the afternoon sun that poured through the windows.

Rosemary heard the muttering first as she rounded the corner and entered the office.  The stout woman was hunched over her laptop, her salt and pepper pixie cut sticking up everywhere.  Whatever she was working on, it was stressing her out.  Helen always pulled at her short strands when she was concentrating hard.

Smiling, Helen’s head jerked up as Rosemary knocked on the door.  The older woman waved her curator into the office and leaned back.  As she stretched, both women could hear a series of loud pops and they started to giggle.

“Ugh, I am getting too old to sit like this.  I need a massage.”  Helen groaned as yet another loud pop emitted from her shoulder.  As Banana scooched under the desk to get scritches from Helen, Rosemary plopped down in one of the armchairs and it creaked in complaint. “Do you have to sit so hard? Those are collection pieces, you know.”

“Not anymore.  I deaccessioned them last week into the decorative collection.  Donor approved, mind you.  So, we can sit in these however we want.”  Rosemary grinned as she threw a leg over the arm of the ornate chair.  For being so ugly, it was comfortable and not for the first time, she wondered if she could move them to her office without Helen noticing.

“That may be, but it’s not like we have money to fix something you broke because you were being too careless.”  Helen raised her eyebrow and Rosemary sat back up in the chair like normal, having the courtesy to look chagrined.  The director sat back.

“So, what do you need?  Are you still having issues with that Gaylord order?”

“Naw, I talked to them last week, they shipped it out yesterday. Finally.”  She rolled her eyes.  “Robert Lancaster called me just a bit ago, wanting to donate some items to the museum.  I got the time, so I’ll head to Saugatuck tomorrow to handle it.”

“Well, I know Robert is quite the collector, but do you think there are things we’ll want?  I’m hard pressed to start accepting any old thing again after we finally got the collections cleared up and decluttered.  I know he’s a long-time supporter of the museum, but I don’t know if I can take another ugly piece of furniture with a smile.”  Rosemary laughed at the comment.

“To his credit, he said there were things we probably wouldn’t want, and I doubt he’ll be sad if I said no to some things.  I certainly want to see what books he’s got for us.  We have a few things in the library that probably need to be rotated out into archives for their own protection.

“Besides, I am not going to pass up a chance to swoop in and yank the rug out from underneath Saugatuck.  You know that.  Watching Fred get mad that I got the leg up on him adds ten years to my life.” Rosemary rubbed her hands gleefully, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

“You really hate him, don’t you?”  Helen laughed.  Lake Michigan History Center was a charming coastal museum, but everyone agreed their curator was a bit odd.  Rosemary took an instant dislike to the man when she came on Fort Jamison’s staff and over the years, their dislike turned into a mutual hatred.  Like her friendship with Robert, everyone knew Fred was Rosemary’s mortal enemy and vice versa.

“God, yes!  Helen, he’s a dick and greedy as hell.  I don’t trust him any further than I can toss his skinny ass. I am still pissed over the diary!  Mrs. Greenwich assured me that we were getting it and he slithered into the village last year and took it!”  Rosemary’s voice got louder.  “THAT DAMN DIARY HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH SAUGATUCK, LET ALONE MENTIONS IT!”

Helen laughed harder while raising her hands in surrender and her curator stopped herself before she got too carried away.  Rosemary cleared her throat and drew a deep breath.  Ugh, he always managed to get her riled up even when he wasn’t around.  Damn Fred.

“Sorry, sorry.  I shouldn’t let him get me so mad, but god.  I hate him so much!  So, if Robert Lancaster’s got something that would make Fred die with envy, then by god, I’m gonna bring it home.”

“Alright.  I trust you as usual.  But since you’re here, I want to go over a couple of things with you for this grant so I can get it out Friday.”

The two women moved on to other things and fell into discussion about the future of projects for the museum and how to fund them.

---***---

“Cripes.”

The word was accompanied by a deep groan.  Agent Marcus Pike sat back in his chair to rub his eyes for the third time in less than an hour.  Some intern had dumped four boxes of case files in his office and was coming back with four more.  And the intern was certain there was another half dozen.

When three art pieces were stolen in Canada last year, Pike had been notified as a courtesy from his Canadian counterparts.  Which in and of itself wasn’t unusual, but the notes from the agents there stood out to Pike and he realized that the details match another case he had worked on earlier in the year.  And further digging uncovered almost three dozen cases dating back almost thirty years that carried all the hallmarks of this most recent one.  And more importantly – they were all still open.

He had taken his concerns and theories to the Art Squad chief, Agent Maria Luisa Armand, and with her blessing, assembled a crew to explore these cold cases. Maybe with new technology and eyes, they’d get the lead to solve them all.

The dull throbbing behind his eyes seemed to get worse and he leaned further back in his chair, trying to do some breathing exercises to reduce the pressure.  He let his eyes go unfocused, letting the colored light reflected on his ceiling go blurry.  The stained glass propped up in his office window had been a bit of an indulgence for him, but Pike never regretted the purchase and, in that moment, the colored streaks help bring some sense of zen that he needed.

A knock on his door forced him out of his zone and he sat up to see his partner, Brenda Carmichael, waiting at the door.  He smiled when he saw her and she returned the gesture, coming in to sit in one of the chairs.  The two had been partners for six years and together they had solved dozens of cases and thwarted twice as much.

“Do we have a plan, Carmichael?”

“Yep.  Someone is coming to get these boxes and take them to Conference D, which I commandeered.”

“How did you do that?”

“Threatened to tell Harrison’s wife that he was spending big cash on that escort he’s seeing.”

“Ouch, a little low, don’t you think?”  Pike laughed.

“God no.  Harrison doesn’t ever play nice, so you can’t do it with him.”  She waived her hand and laughed, her tightly coiled hair bouncing as if it was laughing, too.  “Anyway, three junior agents are on the job currently preparing to create the timeline and pulling all the files.  Two more are working to create point of contact lists for witnesses and such. And finally, I think Armand is putting on the coffee.”

“So where does that leave you and me?”  He didn’t think he’d get such a big crew to do this.  Must be a slow day in other departments.  “I want Fitzbender on the NSAF search and follow up, though, before I forget. 

“That’s fine.  And we supervise.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it for now. Until we have more material to work with.  So up off your duff and let’s get going.”

Pike smiled as he pulled himself out of his chair, grabbing his jacket and gesturing to Carmichael to leave first.  If they could solve these cases, it would be the biggest win in the Art Squad’s recent history and Pike really wanted to bring those pieces home where they belonged.

---***----

“Robert, you know I love you, but you have some ugly stuff here.” Rosemary’s nose wrinkled at the stuffed monkey with murderous eyes staring at her from a box.  The only place that creepy thing was going was in the garbage.  She moved on to another open box, pawing through the items that were housed there, pulling out a couple of potentials.

“Yeah, well no accounting for taste, I guess.”  Robert groaned as he leaned over and pulled open another box. He thought he had labelled all of them for the museum, but he realized three of them got mixed up in the junk pile. “God, how did I miss all these boxes. I’m sorry Rosie, I am usually better organized.”

“It’s not a problem, Robert.”  Rosemary walked over with the contents of yet another box, a bounce in her step as she realized she snagged a two-hundred-year-old map of the area that Fred would have murdered her to get for himself.  Her grin was almost feral at the idea that she one upped the old bastard. “Hey, question.”

“What?”  Robert had moved on to a small box on his desk that had a post-it with Rosemary’s name on it.

“What’s with all the cleaning and giving away all of a sudden?  The house wasn’t like this when I visited two months ago.”  She wiped the sweat off her brow and turned to look at him.  He was quiet and she took a moment to really look at him.

She knew from long talks that Robert had been living in the Saugatuck area since the 1990s.  He had come from Chicago, declaring he needed a slower pace and his bookstore was a welcomed addition to the downtown area.  He was highly philanthropic to causes he loved, like the Fort Jamison museum.

After her Pops passed away several years ago, she seemed to lean even more into Robert to fill the empty void and he did so gladly.  As she watched him shuffle about, she grew concerned because he looked more frail than usual.  The man had always been on the thin side, but he looked scarily thin and a thought skittered through her mind that sent a wave of sadness through her.

“Robert, are you sick?”  There was no hiding the sadness in Rosemary’s voice.  When he stopped and hesitated, she didn’t need a verbal answer from him. She walked over from where she was standing and placed her hand on his shoulder, turning him around.  “Robert.”

He bowed his head and wrapped his arms around the younger woman as tight as he could, and she did the same.  He began to cry on her shoulder, and it startled her, causing tears to form in her eyes.  She silently rubbed his back in comforting circles as sobs wracked Robert’s body. They stood there a long time before he quieted down, but even then, Rosemary refused to let him go, hugging him close to her.

He was her friend and she loved him dearly, so if he were dying, it would devastate her.  Robert made a move to pull back and she reluctantly let him go but held onto his arms with her hands to keep him close.  His red-rimmed eyes crushed the broken pieces of her heart.  He sighed.

“Rosie.”  He took a deep breath.  “I met with my doctor last week and I have stage four pancreatic cancer.  He only gave me a few months to live.”

“Oh Robert.”  The tears started up again and she threw her arms around him.  They cried together a second time and the sadness enveloped them. As she held him close, her tears made her voice rough.  “That’s what spurred this on, isn’t it?”

“Yes.  But you’re the only one to know right now.  I didn’t want to tell anyone else until you knew.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Well, for starters, this hug is pretty good.”  He chuckled a little bit.  “And get some of this stuff out of my house.  And then just be my friend until the end.”

“Always.”  She pulled back to look at him.  “But it will be a cold day in hell before that ugly ass monkey comes with me.”

The tension and sadness were broken, letting them laugh a bit through their tears.  They stepped apart and let themselves smile at each other.

“Let’s get lunch and come back to this stuff later.  It’s too nice of a day to miss out on the patio.”

[ecotone99]

[SP] The Great Easter Egg Crisis of 2020

The old woman sat at a high-rise bar, looking out over the sprawling city below. A fat cigar hung from her lips. She took a deep drag, the smart smoke working into her lungs, repairing damage from a lifetime of breathing polluted air.

Her unwanted companion stood silently. Just another rich kid. But one waiting expectantly for an answer.

“That was a long time ago, and I’ve done my time. How’d you track me down anyway?”

The kid skirted the question. “It’s a school project. I’m trying to put together a story. Something gritty yet intimate.”

She inhaled again. “It’s all in the archives somewhere. Go digging.”

The kid slowly shook his head. “Without the personal details, it’s just old history.”

She looked the kid over. Why not. If she could get something out of it, anyway.

“Buy me a drink. Top shelf.”

The kid nodded reluctantly.

May as well go all out. She gestured over a robot bartender and ordered the most expensive thing on the menu. The robot dispensed it on the spot, ice cold in a tall glass.

She savoured a mouthful. It was excellent. She could feel the virotherapy agents working almost immediately, massaging at decades of DNA damage. It wouldn’t last, but sure as hell felt good.

The kid looked at her expectantly.

She sighed. “You know about the outbreak in 2020? Covid-19. For some it was the end. For others, a new beginning. I saw it as a chance to make money. A lot of money.”

She took another drag on the cigar, and washed it down with more of the drink. “SARS. Swine Flu. Ebola. We’d heard it all before, and the threat of a pandemic seemed almost routine. Life was calm at first, but slowly the hysteria crept in. People hoarding food. Stockpiling toilet paper. Ridiculous stuff. Each little crisis fueled by social media. It’s different these days, but back then people didn’t understand the risks of living your life online. Mob mentality took over. It quickly became chaos.”

She paused, trying to remember the exact wording. “A person is smart. People are dumb, panicky, dangerous animals.”

The kid looked at her, impassive. Too young to understand by about a century.

“It’s a quote. Look it up.” The kids eyes went a little dimmer as he accessed the ‘net in his head. She interrupted and the kid snapped back to reality. “Do it later.”

She continued on. “So we got an idea. I suppose I should say I got an idea, but it took a team of us to pull off. Most were in it for the money. Some just wanted to cause trouble. That was a thing, back then. Coronavirus was our tinder, and fear of missing out was our spark. Little ripples of panic were already in effect. Shortages would come and go, stock prices jumped up and down. But how could we make it work in our favour?”

She stared, waiting until the kid answered. “Easter Eggs. I know that bit.”

She growled back. “You really don’t. There’s nothing like it anymore. It was a cluster fuck of corporations bastardising ancient beliefs for profit. Pointless conspicuous consumption in chocolate form.”

The kid retreated into his head, looking for meaning in the unfamiliar words. “Consumer whores, right?”

The old woman laughed, and coughed, and laughed again. “Exactly.”

She took another swig of the drink, calming her throat. “The only thing more powerful than consumerism was fear. And the world was primed for it. Outbreaks in almost every city. Shortages, both real and imagined. And just a few weeks out from a holiday celebrated by half the world. You’ve never eaten an easter egg, I presume?”

The kid shrugged. “I tried to recreate one with the food printers. I don’t get the appeal.”

She nodded along. “Either do I kid. Always hated Easter. Maybe that’s why I didn’t feel bad about what we did. Those damn eggs. Churned out by the millions in China. Each one trapping a little breath of air inside. We weren't sure the plan would work, but in the end it was easy. A faked video of a sick worker coughing over an easter egg production line. And a single tweet.”

She shook her head, breathing out through her nose. “We thought we’d need to push to get it viral. But no. Society was ready to bubble over. The media ran with it - a precious holiday was under attack. People were angry at Asia, angry at the government, angry at corporations, angry at each other. And we were ready. We seeded counter campaigns supporting businesses of our choosing. ‘Buy safe, buy local’. Anything forgein was boycotted. People tried to stock up on Easter eggs, beating the rush. Production was increased, but prices quickly climbed out of control. The savvy ones looked ahead, wondering about chocolate futures and next year's eggs. They invested, and stock prices grew. As the rest of the market tanked, our stocks were a shining beacon of hope. The fear of missing out kicked in even harder and the prices doubled. Then tripled. Along the way, the supposedly contaminated eggs all tested clean, and the video was declared a fake. But it was too late.”

She smiled at a plan gone even better than expected. “By Easter, the chosen companies were trading at one hundred times our buy in. We’d leveraged every dollar we had on the shares and were filthy rich. We cashed out, ready to disappear before it all came crashing down. We’d defrauded the world, and thought we’d gotten away with it.”

The old woman clenched her jaw, wrinkles deepening. “What happened next was pure bad luck. We couldn’t have known and it sure as hell wasn’t our fault. The chocolate in the ‘safe’ eggs was contaminated. The incubation was slow, but the mortality rate high. They didn’t even know what it was at first. Panic fueled speculation spun a thousand stories. Toxins from manufacturers cutting corners to meet demand. A Coronavirus mutation. Some sinister and ghastly biological weapon. People even looked to the skies, thinking of extraterrestrial horrors.”

She took a deep breath before continuing. “It was the global pandemic everyone had been afraid of, and had a terrifying fatality rate. Containment was impossible, hospitals were overwhelmed, and nothing slowed the spread. The death toll rose staggeringly fast. One hundred thousand. Five hundred thousand. By July there was over a billion dead, with no end in sight. No treatment, no vaccine, no cure. The old and the sick succumbed more easily, but it took young and healthy too. By the time the outbreak worked its way around the globe, two and a half billion people had died.”

She blinked, pushing back tears as she relived the memories. “I know you’ve seen the pictures. Watched the videos. But you can’t understand what it was like. Two and half billion people dead. Everyone lost someone close to them. Everyone.”

She stopped to take a deep breath “Have you experienced death? In your happy, sheltered life, has anyone died?”

The kid looked uncomfortable. “No. I had an aunt who tried to stop her treatments once, but the family wouldn't allow that.”

She looked at the kid with dull envy. “There had never been a tragedy like this. So much fear, so much anger. The world was drawn together, and grieved and raged and howled for blood with one voice. Our little Easter Egg fraud was uncovered, and we were hunted down. We burnt through our fortunes trying to run, trying to hide. But the world was single minded and we had to pay."

She wiped at her cheek. “I don’t know how I was kept alive until the trial. None of my co-conspirators made it. Death was too good for me, it seems. I was at the center of it all. Five billion survivors, cursing my name, demanding I suffer. They called me Patient Zero. That’s almost funny now.”

She looked the kid in the eyes. “I was terrified I would be tortured. Kept alive to feel the world's pain. I prayed for death. In some way what happened next was a miracle. It’s kind of fitting, don’t you think? A God’s honest Easter resurrection.”

She took a long slow drag of her cigar, blowing the spent smoke towards the kid. “Some people called them Angels. Friends and family, returned to the living. Others saw them as demons. That fitted better. The walking undead, climbing out of the ground. We’d spent half our lives obsessing over zombies and here they were. The reality was brutal, and another billion people died before they were stopped. Entire countries fell apart. The world staggered, and it felt like nothing could ever be the same again.”

She looked down at her drink, not sure where to next. “But humans are resilient, and we recovered. It almost seems trivial now. Nearly half the world wiped out, but that only took the population back fifty years. Life continued on, damaged but not broken. What little authority remained kept me in prison, but that was as much for my protection as it was a punishment."

She took one last swig. “I know some people see it as a blessing. Heaven on Earth, they say. I know I wouldn’t be alive today without the medical advances cajoled out of corpses that refuse to stay dead. Eternal youth.” She scowled. “At least for those who can afford it.”

She put down her empty glass, looking into it. “That’s all the memories you get for one drink. What’s this gritty yet intimate story of yours going to be called, anyway?”

The kid was already retreating inside his own head, but focused back momentarily.

“The Great Easter Egg Crisis of 2020”

“Jesus, that’s horrifying.” She turned back to the window, not really seeing the world outside.

submitted by /u/sywofp [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2xIISJD

[focusedprocrastinator]

Dumb things I’ve said with no context: A list

I’ve added to this list since last year in June. These quotes come from texting and verbal conversation.

Here are the best ones:

“We're getting so fucking irish rn”

“If only more people would die“

“Yo blue footed booby is such a mood”

“I can do some weird shit with my neck, man”

“Apparently my coughs are the sound of F#”

“An unrealistic standard for me is knowing when to use who's and whose”

“Cause you weren’t touching my pillow cases”

“There are me’s out there being raped and murdered too so”

“I'd totally play cards with old people”

“What even are sand dollars are they mermaid currency”

“That's what a salmon looks like????”

“Steve was a fuckin art god ok”

“Hippos can kill me but they make pink milk which is honestly some cool ass shit”

“Dry bagels are as bad as wet socks”

“I read your text in a Jewish mom voice”

“Ah man you know what feels amazing...My ear lobes...Let me explain”

“That was my birth tho that don't count”

“I imagine ants to speak in old English”

“It hertz, Mr.Stark”

“You see but in darker”

“Will our identities be stolen...by the Sun?”

“It's not the third eye it's the psycock”

“It’s sadness in a bagel”

“The triangle is taking over”

“Since when do data tables need men in their lives”

“Bitch I'm so tired my right boob is throbbing”

“Let's talk about how woke people were in the early 1700s”

“Suicide is an option and I'm open minded”

“You ant any land”

“I was busy throwing planets”

“I would like to share my opinion on the hot dog”

“Cause you're gonna murder me with 12 blankets”

“I'm just gonna use my drawers as a reaction image”

“It’s like a thumbs up to god”

“What if models waddled instead of doing the runway walk”

“Just because she’s deaf doesn’t mean she can’t read”

“I got blessed by a priest to do well on the physics test tomorrow”

“She'll have to be happy with her cement”

“Are you shaming my milk?”

“I'm gonna catch diseases before the mosquitos can catch these hands”

“What would Jesus even be doing at a robotics competition”

“Homie I'm gearing up for battle with old ladies”

“Stop sexualizing springs”

“Can we go higher than coat hanger candids”

“Lowkey poultry vibes”

“You come into my house and shame my fingers”

“Crossbreed it yourself... dyi”

*“You gave birth to ears.”

“He’s feeling god so hard”

“Have you ever t posed on your printer to make it print something”

“I tried so hard when I was younger to eat colors”

“Completely cock blocked by values”

“Is peanut butter a meat”

“I'm not able to kachow”

“I think more about Luigi than I do ouija boards”

“Ok but do you know what people in the renaissance didn’t do? *gestures* hit that whip.”

“Why do I attract bread”

“I think I’ve built a tolerance for no nipples”

“I will not eat dr Phil”

“Ok how can you go from that question to telling me about your Mario transformation”

“The janitors like to get groovy? Idk”

“Snot in your eggs is not good”

“Chug a lug I need a hug”

“I’ve never been more offended by shoes in my life.”

“I’m going to die with no hands”

“He wouldn't be gay for a man I love”

“I never knew I’d have to compete with some Frosted Flakes”

“Do your breasts ever be on a Tuesday?”

“I'm going to sue you so I can get money to buy tortilla chips”

“It take real brain”

“Negotiate with a vending machine.”

“You’re what’re eat’re”

“Blues clues? Nonexistent”

“I will not sat sit sitting stan Satan on the sat sit stand seat”

“What do you have against the sneaky hippo”

“It makes me sound like a harem lord”

“Just yeet a whole college at them”

“You aren’t thicc enough to be a phone”

“Anyways thank you for opening up to me about your fursona”

“Men are pancakes?”

“That’s literally what priests do except with bread and people”

“We finna be controversial out here with marbles”

“The neighbor’s gas heater blew up 🤪🤪”

“Guess you're just another raccoon falling onto my roof”

“Look! My finger has clothes!”

[icravestrawberryflavoureddeath]

Sit down lads and listen to my tired fueled rant on why Steven Yeun is a pure man and loves Keith!

So, its been bugging me for a while (especially with the new season just being released) about the fact that almost all the voice actors promote the show and how much slack my boi Steven gets! We all know how much Jeremy Shada, Bex T-K, Josh Keaton, Hell, even AJ whos new to the team go full out and are full of thoughts and words to say about Voltron and their charterers, SO, I am here today, ignoring every piece of homework i have due four weeks ago to tell y’all why none of the slack he gets is deserved!

Way back when in may of this year, a local (ish) convention guested Steven Yeun as a guest, and even though I may be a Lance stan before a human being, I cried cuz I loved this boi since the walking dead. 

I had saved all my $$ just to get this boi’s autograph (on top of picking one up for my friends sister) and waited in his line for almost 2 hours just so i could be first.  And as I sat in line, i noticed that the growing amount of walking dead fans where starting to get extremely high (i don’t think a single person in that line even KNEW what Voltron even was!).

So, b/c i am smart and don’t want to make a rash choice, i sneak a pick at the photos he has lined up before hand to see if they had any rad Voltron for him to sign. and OF COURSE there is no Voltron or Keith anywhere on that table.  But Worry not fellow nerds!  I did the smart thing and printed off a picture of Keith at home!  But my printer is shitty and the quality wasn’t the best

So after almost two hours and him being 20 minutes late ( i could never hate, my boi was on his lunch break) the line starts movin.  So here i am, about to meet Steven FREAKING Yeun, dressed as Kim Possible (not relevant but anyways) and I have practiced over and over what im gonna say to this man.  

“Talk about the Walking Dead, you can do it, tell him you love the walking dead”

So i get up and pay for my autograph, and they let me have two photos and his manager, when he gets to me, tells him that he can only sign one.

NOw, before I got on, my boi looked tired.  Like HELLA TIRED.  idk what he be doing, but he was doing his best to fake a smile and get through another line.

And when i get up in front of him, I FROZE!  like, BItcH, What you DOIN?!?!?  anyways, i shake his hand and all i manage to say is 

“I loved you in Voltron!”

And the look on his face gave me ten years of my life back!  This boi (whose entire autograph photo selection is just walking dead and head shots) hears Voltron, and i saw a smile that was genuine rush over him.  And the MOMENT i notice this, I just go back to talking about Voltron with him

Anyways, he signs my friends photo (which was hella aesthetic) and he looks over at my two and i explain to him the deal 

“So, heres the thing: i only have enough money for one autograph and you are my favorite character in the walking dead (bitch was already dead at this point too) but I got really sad when there was no Keith photos. SO i printed this out at home and I want you to decide.”

he looks at the two photos and tells me

“heres what we’re gonna do.”

and he reaches for the Keith picture and he starts to sign it.  I’m already close to tears at this point, and he is just signing away.  And then he glances over at his manager and quickly signs the other one, pushing both towards me before she had time to react and pull the other one away.

ANd at this point i am IN TEARS.  Crying in the con, god bless this random lady who gave me a tissue or my makeup would have been a mess.  

My friend and I sit down and we look at the pictures and he FUCKING SIGNED THE KEITH PHOTO FROM KEITH!!!!  I might be a Lance stan, but jesus fuck do I love Steven Yeun and everything he is!!

And this boi loves Keith! all the stories I heard from others who met him said that when they mentioned Voltron he would become ten times more happy.  Steven is a gift and I want nothing but happiness for that man.

Oh, and also...

Stevn Yeun loves Keith, he cares for Voltron, and I will NOT tolerate hate towards him any longer!

I rest my case

[elams]

“Aaron Burr, Sir” through several layers of Google Translate

New York 1776

I forgot this letter.

Who is there

Yes, yes Alexander Lucas's career I would like him

I'm scared

Yours I heard the name of the printer. To understand it easier to see. Can I earn money?

Hearing

Yes yes What I want to do is a change in both people and leaders. I do not know if I do not know. What does you mean by email?

My family is dead and dead.

Old and timing ends. They are friends O my God, I will fight. Now we can show that it's important. Also speak

Are you entitled?

I do not agree

So, I can not speak Here's the skin.

What is this?

Updated

F

Do not ask what you want.

Not good

Keep on ascending

If you

he died

I do not agree What is this?

Team

Take up

Wind and air are not good John Lawrence Sam and the rules, but three things must be done. Empty spinae I'll find it here

Of course, he joined Lafykkko. Lancantle "Bonson:" I told you Who are you and what I said to him: I am. I am

Bond Bond! Nina Hercules Molyvagen, If so, her mother exclaimed: "Thank you."

The:

Yes, I'm a girl Some four marriages

United Nations

Do not do this, and the second part is over. With their family ...

Security:

If you are a Professor of Princeton,

Harvester Baking

He said he was told.

This is a blessing. Your status I was allowed to stay. What happens

It's so bad!

What do I want my product to do?

What's the phone?

AI Yours Yours Yours

What does this girl do?

[brothertimothysblog]

God doesn’t ask, unless He enables you.

          It is very safe to say If you know what God wants you to do.  Be willing and walk in faith according  to his plan for your life.   Everything happens for a reason.   Often times we do not understand the reasons.   In all  things give  thanks for this is the will of God.     We should line up our desires according to His will.   

         I wrote a blog for 6 years .    I had over 1800 articles.    I received over 9000 comments.    The blog was called Enough homeless.     I never bring up or write about  a problem unless I have a solution.      Perhaps not The solution but A solution.    

          I will give advice yet it isn’t always taken.    Often times my advice comes from my past.    My knowledge of  scriptures.     I understand everyone of us are unique even identical twins has their own unique  personalities  desires strengths as well as  weakness.    I try not to repeat my self much in my writings I may mention something and say for more information I have written.....

         I enjoy telling stories,   especially true stories.   then sharing “My Cross”  with who ever I strike up a conversation with.   I call it the gift of gab.   

It is a lost art.   Being able to communicate with a stranger.   I left giving them my URL for this blog’  My Cross   So that   The Inspirational messages   can be mailed.   

My opinion  often times screams at those who doesn’t agree with me.    I call it stepping on toes.    Those who agrees with me can step on toes just by sharing “ My Cross with others.   

We are surrounded by  those who are in need.   The poor are in need.    The wealthy are in need.   Just different needs.   

Two men at the same church was at the alter.   Both were praying.    One man prayed that he would some how be able to get 100.00 so he could pay his electric bill.     The other man   He was praying that he could get   a few million to finish his  multi million dollar construction job.      So  two brothers in Christ at the same church  both have needs   .    The one with the need for a few million reached into his wallet and gave his brother in Christ  100.00     He said now Lord sense I have taken care of that pray for you   then you can work on my needs.   

When I help a homeless person   I spend time asking what has happened.   

All of them has different stories, different circumstances.    Many of our homeless are our own veterans.   

On the average most are three pay checks away from  being homeless.   

I know of one individual  who gets  1.00 to much to qualify for a EBT card.   She has an apartment.   In my opinion the biggest problem with panhandling is some goes home to a nice townhouse.   They live off of others who works hard making the money.      With receiving cash   they  also scam the IRS.   More than once I would say   I am sorry I do not have any money on me.   I give them my phone number I tell them them  to text me I will send them a link to  Cash app and he or she will get 20.00 and I get 20.00    They are very thankful but so far not one has sent me a text.   

I pass out calling cards  daily.    The cards are an invitation to receive blessings.

I started inspirational messages.    I think of these postcards as a key to open blessings.   Do you want to be blessed.   Get a package of post cards from me 14 for 7.77      Read the article I wrote   777 verses 666  Take the 14 cards to your church  ask 14 members to mail one out.      I am blessed,   the one who buys the cards are blessed.   The fourteen who mails the cards are blessed.    The fourteen who receives the cards are blessed.    The printer who prints the cards are blessed The postal service is blessed.   Everyone who gets the postcards  has  “My Cross”   The blog is full of blessings.   I understand  paying out 7.77  may not be easy.   Perhaps  3.00 a pay check and you become  When two others sends 3.00   I simply pick a church and mail them 14 cards.   I ask them to pay it forward.   It doesn’t  take too many  supporters or churches  to mail out the cards   before I  my self  can have the income I need .    Then phase two in this ministry is  being able to help those who are in-need , after all  we have enough homeless.   I have a desire to write more  yet I would be repeating what I have written .   Therefore I invite you to continue reading that which I have written.    watch the You Tubes  the  Tick toks    Hear the messages.   

Read the verses    In a couple of places you will see my cash app.  I have other investing aps.   Once you join  you can be blessed by sharing a link with others.   The big blessing comes from    buying  inspirational messages which are on postcards.     Together we can change lives  sending out postcards.   I want to hear from those who buys   so I can share their blessing with others.   

In  Him

Brother ,

Timothy   

[pamphletstoinspire]

THE BOOK OF TOBIAS Or Tobit* - From The Douay-Rheims Bible - Latin Vulgate

Chapter 12

INTRODUCTION.

This Book takes its name from the holy man Tobias, whose wonderful virtues are herein recorded. It contains most excellent documents of great piety, extraordinary patience, and of perfect resignation to the will of God. His humble prayer was heard, and the angel Raphael was sent to relieve him: he is thankful, and praises the Lord, calling on the children of Israel to do the same. Having lived to the age of one hundred and two years, he exhorts his son and grandsons to piety, foretells the destruction of Ninive, and the rebuilding of Jerusalem: he dies happily. Ch. --- The Jews themselves have a great regard for the book of Tobias; (Grot. Sixtus Senens. viii.) which Origen (ad Afric.) says they "read in Hebrew," meaning probably the Chaldee, (C.) out of which language S. Jerom translated it, preferring to displease the Pharisaical Jews, rather than not to satisfy the desires of the holy bishops Chromatius and Heliodorus. Ep. t. iii. W. --- The Greek version seems to have been taken from another copy, or it has been executed with greater liberty by the Hellenist Jews, between the times of the Sept. and of Theodotion. C. --- Huet and Prideaux esteem it more original; and Houbigant has translated it in his Bible, as the Council of Trent only spoke of the Latin editions then extant; and S. Jerom followed in his version the Hebrew one of a Jew, as he did not understand the Chaldee. H. --- The Syriac and the modern Hebrew edition of Fagius, agree mostly with the Greek, as that of Munster and another Heb. copy of Huet, and the Arabic version, both unpublished, are more conformable to the Vulgate. The most ancient Latin version used before S. Jerom, was taken from the Greek; and the Fathers who lived in those ages, speak of it when they call the book of Tobias canonical. S. Aug. leaves it, however, to adopt S. Jerom's version, in his Mirrour. The copies of all these versions vary greatly, (C.) though the substance of the history is still the same; and in all we discover the virtues of a good parent, of a dutiful son, and virtuous husband, beautifully described. H. --- "The servant of God, holy Tobias, is given to us after the law for an example, that we might know how to practise what we read; and that if temptations assail us, we may not depart from the fear of God, nor expect help from any other." S. Aug. q. 119. ex utroque Test. --- The four first chapters exhibit the holy life of old Tobias, and the eight following, the journey and affairs of his son, directed by Raphael. In the two last chapters they praise God, and the elder Tobias foretells the better state of the commonwealth. W. --- It is probable that both left records, from which this work has been compiled, with a few additional observations. It was written during (C.) or after the captivity of Babylon. E. --- The Jews had then little communication with each other, in different kingdoms. Tobias was not allowed to go into Media, under Sennacherib; and it is probable that the captives at Babylon would be under similar restrictions; so that we do not need to wonder that they were unacquainted with this history of a private family, the records of which seem to have been kept at Ecbatana. The original Chaldee is entirely lost, so that it is impossible to ascertain whether the Greek or the Vulg. be more conformable to it. The chronology of the latter seems however more accurate, as the elder Tobias foretold the destruction of Ninive, twenty-three years before the event, which his son just beheld verified, dying in the 18th year of king Josias. The accounts which appear to sectaries to be fabulous, may easily be explained. Houbigant. --- Josephus and Philo omit this history. C.

* One of the seven Deutero-Canonical books, missing from most non-Catholic Bibles.

The additional Notes in this Edition of the New Testament will be marked with the letter A. Such as are taken from various Interpreters and Commentators, will be marked as in the Old Testament. B. Bristow, C. Calmet, Ch. Challoner, D. Du Hamel, E. Estius, J. Jansenius, M. Menochius, Po. Polus, P. Pastorini, T. Tirinus, V. Bible de Vence, W. Worthington, Wi. Witham. — The names of other authors, who may be occasionally consulted, will be given at full length.

Verses are in English and Latin. HAYDOCK CATHOLIC BIBLE COMMENTARY

This Catholic commentary on the Old Testament, following the Douay-Rheims Bible text, was originally compiled by Catholic priest and biblical scholar Rev. George Leo Haydock (1774-1849). This transcription is based on Haydock's notes as they appear in the 1859 edition of Haydock's Catholic Family Bible and Commentary printed by Edward Dunigan and Brother, New York, New York.

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES

Changes made to the original text for this transcription include the following:

Greek letters. The original text sometimes includes Greek expressions spelled out in Greek letters. In this transcription, those expressions have been transliterated from Greek letters to English letters, put in italics, and underlined. The following substitution scheme has been used: A for Alpha; B for Beta; G for Gamma; D for Delta; E for Epsilon; Z for Zeta; E for Eta; Th for Theta; I for Iota; K for Kappa; L for Lamda; M for Mu; N for Nu; X for Xi; O for Omicron; P for Pi; R for Rho; S for Sigma; T for Tau; U for Upsilon; Ph for Phi; Ch for Chi; Ps for Psi; O for Omega. For example, where the name, Jesus, is spelled out in the original text in Greek letters, Iota-eta-sigma-omicron-upsilon-sigma, it is transliterated in this transcription as, Iesous. Greek diacritical marks have not been represented in this transcription.

Footnotes. The original text indicates footnotes with special characters, including the astrisk (*) and printers' marks, such as the dagger mark, the double dagger mark, the section mark, the parallels mark, and the paragraph mark. In this transcription all these special characters have been replaced by numbers in square brackets, such as [1], [2], [3], etc.

Accent marks. The original text contains some English letters represented with accent marks. In this transcription, those letters have been rendered in this transcription without their accent marks.

Other special characters.

Solid horizontal lines of various lengths that appear in the original text have been represented as a series of consecutive hyphens of approximately the same length, such as ---.

Ligatures, single characters containing two letters united, in the original text in some Latin expressions have been represented in this transcription as separate letters. The ligature formed by uniting A and E is represented as Ae, that of a and e as ae, that of O and E as Oe, and that of o and e as oe.

Monetary sums in the original text represented with a preceding British pound sterling symbol (a stylized L, transected by a short horizontal line) are represented in this transcription with a following pound symbol, l.

The half symbol (1/2) and three-quarters symbol (3/4) in the original text have been represented in this transcription with their decimal equivalent, (.5) and (.75) respectively.

Unreadable text. Places where the transcriber's copy of the original text is unreadable have been indicated in this transcription by an empty set of square brackets, [].

Chapter 12

Raphael maketh himself known.

[1] Then Tobias called to him his son, and said to him: What can we give to this holy man, that is come with thee?

Tunc vocavit ad se Tobias filium suum, dixitque ei : Quid possumus dare viro isti sancto, qui venit tecum?

[2] Tobias answering, said to his father: Father, what wages shall we give him? or what can be worthy of his benefits?

Respondens Tobias, dixit patri suo : Pater, quam mercedem dabimus ei? aut quid dignum poterit esse beneficiis ejus?

[3] He conducted me and brought me safe again, he received the money of Gabelus, he caused me to have my wife, and he chased from her the evil spirit, he gave joy to her parents, myself he delivered from being devoured by the fish, thee also he hath made to see the light of heaven, and we are filled with all good things through him. What can we give him sufficient for these things?

Me duxit et reduxit sanum, pecuniam a Gabelo ipse recepit, uxorem ipse me habere fecit, et daemonium ab ea ipse compescuit : gaudium parentibus ejus fecit, meipsum a devoratione piscis eripuit, te quoque videre fecit lumen caeli, et bonis omnibus per eum repleti sumus. Quid illi ad haec poterimus dignum dare?

[4] But I beseech thee, my father, to desire him, that he would vouchsafe to accept one half of all things that have been brought.

Sed peto te, pater mi, ut roges eum, si forte dignabitur medietatem de omnibus, quae allata sunt, sibi assumere.

[5] So the father and the son, calling him, took him aside: and began to desire him that he would vouchsafe to accept of half of all things that they had brought.

Et vocantes eum, pater scilicet et filius, tulerunt eum in partem : et rogare coeperunt ut dignaretur dimidiam partem omnium, quae attulerant, acceptam habere.

[6] Then he said to them secretly: Bless ye the God of heaven, give glory to him in the sight of all that live, because he hath shewn his mercy to you.

Tunc dixit eis occulte : Benedicite Deum caeli, et coram omnibus viventibus confitemini ei, quia fecit vobiscum misericordiam suam.

[7] For it is good to hide the secret of a king: but honourable to reveal and confess the works of God.

Etenim sacramentum regis abscondere bonum est : opera autem Dei revelare et confiteri honorificum est.

[8] Prayer is good with fasting and alms more than to lay up treasures of gold:

Bona est oratio cum jejunio, et eleemosyna magis quam thesauros auri recondere :

[9] For alms delivereth from death, and the same is that which purgeth away sins, and maketh to find mercy and life everlasting.

quoniam eleemosyna a morte liberat, et ipsa est, quae purgat peccata, et facit invenire misericordiam et viam aeternam.

[10] But they that commit sin and iniquity, are enemies to their own soul.

Qui autem faciunt peccatum, et iniquitatem, hostes sunt animae suae.

[11] I discover then the truth unto you, and I will not hide the secret from you.

Manifesto ergo vobis veritatem, et non abscondam a vobis occultum sermonem.

[12] When thou didst pray with tears, and didst bury the dead, and didst leave thy dinner, and hide the dead by day in thy house, and bury them by night, I offered thy prayer to the Lord.

Quando orabas cum lacrimis, et sepeliebas mortuos, et derelinquebas prandium tuum, et mortuos abscondebas per diem in domo tua, et nocte sepeliebas eos, ego obtuli orationem tuam Domino.

[13] And because thou wast acceptable to God, it was necessary that temptation should prove thee.

Et quia acceptus eras Deo, necesse fuit ut tentatio probaret te.

[14] And now the Lord hath sent me to heal thee, and to deliver Sara thy son's wife from the devil.

Et nunc misit me Dominus ut curarem te, et Saram uxorem filii tui a daemonio liberarem.

[15] For I am the angel Raphael, one of the seven, who stand before the Lord.

Ego enim sum Raphael angelus, unus ex septem, qui adstamus ante Dominum.

[16] And when they had heard these things, they were troubled, and being seized with fear they fell upon the ground on their face.

Cumque haec audissent, turbati sunt, et trementes ceciderunt super terram in faciem suam.

[17] And the angel said to them: Peace be to you, fear not.

Dixitque eis angelus : Pax vobis : nolite timere.

[18] For when I was with you, I was there by the will of God: bless ye him, and sing praises to him.

Etenim cum essem vobiscum, per voluntatem Dei eram : ipsum benedicite, et cantate illi.

[19] I seemed indeed to eat and to drink with you: but I use an invisible meat and drink, which cannot be seen by men.

Videbar quidem vobiscum manducare et bibere : sed ego cibo invisibili, et potu qui ab hominibus videri non potest, utor.

[20] It is time therefore that I return to him that sent me: but bless ye God, and publish all his wonderful works.

Tempus est ergo ut revertar ad eum, qui me misit : vos autem benedicite Deum, et narrate omnia mirabilia ejus.

[21] And when he had said these things, he was taken from their sight, and they could see him no more.

Et cum haec dixisset, ab aspectu eorum ablatus est, et ultra eum videre non potuerunt.

[22] Then they lying prostrate for three hours upon their face, blessed God: and rising up, they told all his wonderful works.

Tunc prostrati per horas tres in faciem, benedixerunt Deum : et exsurgentes narraverunt omnia mirabilia ejus.

Commentary:

Ver. 1. What. Gr. Heb. and Syr. C. "See thou give the man who has come with thee his hire, and something must be added to it;" (H.) as he had promised (C. vii. 19.) a drachm a day, (C.) and more if they returned safe. H.

Ver. 2. Said. Gr. "Father, I shall not be hurt if I give him half of what I have brought, since he has conducted me safe back to thee, and has healed my wife, and brought my money, and likewise has cured thee. And the old man said, he justly deserves it. And he called the angel, and said to him, Take half of what you have brought, and depart in health. Then," v. 6.

Ver. 6. Said. Gr. "Calling the two, in private, he said to them."

Ver. 7. Hide. Gr. "To bless God, and to extol his name, exposing with honour the words of God, and delay not to confess unto him. For," &c. H. --- The Old Vulg. greatly abridges the remainder of this book, having only, "Then Raphael having called the two Tobies, said to them, Since thou hast not delayed to arise, and to leave thy meals to bury the dead, I have been sent to try thee to heal thee, and to deliver thy daughter-in-law. I am Raphael, one of the angels who assist and appear before the brightness of God. Hereupon the two Tobies were startled, and fell prostrate on the ground, and were seized with fear. And Raphael said, Fear not, Peace be with you. Bless the Lord all the days of your life, and sing his praises. You thought that I eat when I was at table with you. But you saw with your eyes; (H. only a vision. C.) wherefore bless the Lord upon the earth, and praise his goodness. As for me, I return to him who sent me. Write down all that has happened. The angel having spoken thus to Tobias, the latter wrote this prayer as a monument of his joy, and said, Blessed be the Lord, who is great in eternity, because his reign endures for ever. It is He who strikes, and who shews I mercy, who conducts to the grave, and who, by his majesty, rescues from the greatest miseries; and no one can withdraw himself from his hands. End of Tobias the just." H. --- King. Secrecy is the soul of human councils, to prevent an enemy from thwarting our designs: but nothing can withstand the divine power. It is therefore proper to testify our gratitude for favours received, as the ancient saints have done by their canticles. C.

Ver. 8. Alms. Gr. adds, "and justice. Better is a little with justice, than much with iniquity." H. --- Fasting and alms are like the wings of prayer. W. See C. iv. 11.

Ver. 9. Everlasting. This word is not found in Greek, though sufficiently implied; as liberality does not always secure a person's life, or temporal happiness. C. --- Gr. "Those who perform alms-deeds and justice, shall be filled with life. But sinners are enemies," &c.

Ver. 10. Soul. If this were understood of the present life, nothing could be less accurate, as the wicked often prosper. See Ps. x. 6. Jo. xii. 25. C.

Ver. 11. I. Gr. "I will not hide from you any word or thing. I said then, It is good to conceal the mystery of the king, but glorious to manifest the works of God. And now, when thou and thy daughter-in-law, Sarra, did pray, I brought forward the memorial of your prayer before the holy one." H. --- The angels are represented as God's ministers, offering our prayers to him. Apoc. viii. 3. C. S. Aug. W. --- Philo styles them ambassadors. Socrates says, "every demon (or good spirit) is between God and mortals." Plutarch. --- Inter homines cælicolasque, vectores hinc precum, inde donorum. Apuleius de Deo Socrat. C. --- Gr. continues, "and when thou didst bury the dead, in like manner, I was present with thee; when thou didst not delay to rise and leave thy dinner, that going thou mightest cover the dead; in thy good work, thou wast not hidden from me: but I was with thee. And," &c. v. 14. H.

Ver. 13. Thee. This rule is invariable, that the good may advance in virtue, and set a pattern to the world, (Heb. ii. 18. and xii. 6. Acts xiv. 21. C.) and cancel their smallest faults.

Ver. 14. From the devil, is not in Greek. H. --- In this history, as well as in other parts of Scripture, we have convincing proofs of the good which each one receives from his angel guardian, and from the other blessed spirits. See S. Luke xv. and xvi. S. Chrys. in col. hom. 3. S. Aug. de Civ. Dei. xi. 31. &c. W.

Ver. 15. Raphael. We know also the names of Michael and Gabriel. All others are apocryphal; such as Uriel, Saltiel, Jeadriel Barachiel, &c. --- Seven. This number is clearly specified by S. John, Apoc. i. 4. A mass in their honour was approved by Pius IV. It is supposed that the seven deacons in the Church of Rome, and of Jerusalem, were instituted in imitation of them. The kings, Assuerus, &c. had seven chief officers. Est. i. 10. C. --- Lord, ready to fulfil his orders, as innumerable other angels, of inferior degree, are likewise. M. Dan. vii. 10. --- These were the princes of the heavenly court. S. Jerom (con. Jovin.) admits only seven orders of angels. C. --- Gr. "I am Raphael, one of the seven holy angels who offer up the prayers of the saints, and go out before the glory of the Holy One. And they were both troubled," &c. (H.) at so unusual a thing, (M.) and filled with reverential awe. H. --- They might also suspect that death would shortly follow. C. Gen. xvi. 13.

Ver. 17. Be. Gr. "shall be with you. But praise God: for I came not of my own accord, but by the will of our God. Wherefore praise him for ever."

Ver. 19. I. Gr. "I appeared to you all the days; yet I did not eat nor drink. But you beheld a vision." H. --- Having an aerial body, he made the provisions disappear, as the sun melts snow. Gen. xviii. 9. C. --- He might swallow, though he had no need of meat, (S. Aug. de Civ. Dei. xiii. 22.) or digestion, (Grotius) so as to convert it into his substance. M. --- Men. I constantly enjoy the beatific vision. Mat. xviii. 10. C.

Ver. 20. It. Gr. "And now confess to God, because I ascend to him who sent me. Write ye all these occurrences in a book. And they arose, and beheld him no longer; and they proclaimed the great and wonderful works of God, and how the angel of the Lord had appeared to them." H. - Almost all interpreters infer from this injunction, (C.) that the work before us was originally composed by these holy men. H.

[dw-writes]

Ghost Protag 2

I enjoy writing this, it’s fun and a shameless self insert and I dont even care. It’s great. I hope you enjoy it, too.

Again, be forewarned. This story deals with some heavy stuff like depression, self harm, and suicide. I suggest if you’re not comfortable with these themes, that you don’t read. Thank you!

First Part Third Part

Even dead – yes, I am, in fact, going to keep talking about how I’m dead okay? It’s kind of a big deal for me – I still found myself following the streets until I was staring at the looming buildings of my university campus.

I can feel the judgement from here. Say whatever, but I at least decided to go after what I wanted and get that degree I wanted. Your age doesn’t matter you can do what you want! Take THAT DEPRESSION!

She said nothing. Good. Fuck off, you fickle bitch.

Anyway, I stopped next to a bus stop. It was outside the main building of campus, where they had the food court and printers and all that jazz. Not gonna lie, I still felt out of place when I went there, because everyone was years younger than I was. So out of place that I went and got a printer for my apartment. I was stuck eating noodles for two weeks because of it, but whatever. I had a printer. I didn’t have to pay ten cents a page for my essays anymore. Sue me. But as I stared up at the building, I felt sad. I wouldn’t be able to go in there again and get the really awful pizza that they made. Or sit in the too comfortable chairs in the basement and accidentally fall asleep.

I sat heavily on the bus bench and just…stared. I could hear birds and bugs and the faint music coming from one of the frat houses behind me. The occasional car roared past, speeding in the twenty zone. Who cared? No one. I didn’t even think there was a campus cop out right now.

I wanted to cry. Could I cry? I could run into doors, so I could probably cry. But no tears came. I started thinking of even more sad things, just to see if I could. I thought of how my cats would have to be rehomed, and how they probably didn’t even know that I wouldn’t be coming back. I thought of how I had done all that work towards that degree for nothing. I thought of the money that was just going to disappear, probably, from my bank account since I was – hahaha – dead.

Okay, I made myself WAY too sad. I felt my eyes welling up. Instead of wiping them away, like I had at the church, I let them fall. They rolled partially down my face before just…vanishing. I touched my chin, where they normally dripped off, and found it dry.

“This is such bullshit!” I screamed into the night. I stood and stomped my kitty slipper feet on the ground like I was two. “I can’t even cry properly?! What the actual fuck, universe!” I screamed. I screamed loud and hard and way too long for someone who should have been alive. When I couldn’t scream anymore, I stopped, and found myself disappointed when the sound didn’t echo.

I could feel a presence just behind my right shoulder, on the sidewalk, just standing there. Awkwardly. And staring. I wiped at my face anyway, even though my tears were apparently just floating away like tiny fucking helium balloons, and turned towards the presence.

It was a boy. A man? I dunno, but he was most definitely that awkward age were you think you’re one but you’re still probably the other but, legally, you’re the adult. Option B. The one that pays the taxes.

Oh, man, I didn’t have to pay taxes anymore. I didn’t get a tax return anymore. That sucks!

“Are you okay?” he asked. His voice was higher than mine, just a little, and he squeezed his arms when he asked the question. He hugged himself like he was cold and his black sweater was doing nothing to help him. It was a turtle neck with long sleeves. And boy, this kid needed sun. His was brown, but not very brown? Like, he had been taking his night classes a little too seriously? Get this poor child some Vitamin D!

I looked around as I registered his question. “Me?” I asked, when I saw I was the only one. His thin brown eyebrows lifted to tell me yes, he was in fact talking to me. A car turned the corner and rolled past him, its headlights illuminating him. His hair was swept up and away from his face, dark brown, and covered in a blue that was growing out almost too much. The sides of his head were cut close. He hadn’t gotten it done in a little while, alright. “You’re asking me if I’m okay?” I repeated.

He shook his head and shoulders like I was absolutely nuts. “Yeah. You were screaming,” he said. He shrugged his shoulders and unfolded his lanky arms to shrug again. “You’re the only other person—”

“Holy fucking shit, you can see me?” I interrupted, stumbling around the bench towards him.

He lifted his hands and backed up into the street. “Lady, I think you’re drunk.”

“Trust me, I am SO not drunk,” I said. I stopped, though, and rolled my eyes up in thought. “Am I?”

He started to walk away. “This is what I get for being a good person,” I heard him say to himself.

I scrambled after him, shouting wait at his back, until I managed to catch up and latch onto his arm. He, too, tripped over his own feet and yanked his arm away from me. “Why are you so cold?” he demanded.

“I’m cold?” I protested, “You’re cold! Did you just walk out of a freezer?”

“No, it’s just cold outside!” he shouted back. His head snapped to the side and he backed up to the sidewalk. It was then that I realized that I had followed him out into the road. Just in time for another car to roll down the street and barrel right into me.

Through me.

I didn’t, like, disappear. I was still there. I pressed my hands to my stomach and wailed as the car continued on. “What the fuck?” I squeaked. I looked at my palms and continued to press them into my abdomen. “What the fuck? I can’t go through a door but a car can go through me?!” I groaned and crouched in the road. “Oh my god, that was, like, the worst possible cramp I could have ever had.”

I could see the man child in the turtle neck anxiously pacing on the sidewalk. His messenger bag had dropped to the ground and his hands were buried in his hair. He stared at me. “You just got hit by a car,” he said.

“No, I think it went through me.”

“A car just went through you.”

“Yes?”

“Holy hell, a car just went through you.”

“We’ve established this. Let me cramp in peace.”

He practically slid across the ground, kneeling next to me in the road. “You’re dead,” he concluded.

I set my elbow on my knee and propped my chin in my hand. “No shit?” I asked, “And here I thought I was tripping balls.” The thrill of discovery flickered and almost disappeared from his eyes. He pulled me up from a crouch – with my protests – and pulled me back to the sidewalk.

“You’re a ghost,” he said slowly.

I would have smacked him if a wave of pain hadn’t rolled through my stomach. It, honestly, felt like the car had ripped through my back and squeezed out of my belly button. Worst cramps ever. “Yeah, I’m a ghost,” I said through gritted teeth. I held out my hand and sank to the ground, pressing as much as I could against my stomach. “God, that hurt,” I sighed.

The kid kneeled in front of me. “I’m Francisco,” he said. His letters rolled beautifully off his tongue. I could have swooned. “Pancho,” he added, “To…people.”

I looked up at him. The pain was starting to pass. Bless. “Pancho?” I repeated.

“It’s short for Francisco,” he persisted.

“…In what world?”

“Spanish!” he replied. The word was drawn out and upset. I could have laugh.

I could have done a lot of things. Instead, I swallowed down the nausea that was coming with the passing of the pain and held out my hand. “Piper,” I said, “Piper Mills.”

“Like paper mills,” he said as he shook my hand.

“Okay, okay, get it out, Pancho Man,” I shot back.

He sucked on his teeth. Carefully, he stood, and pulled me with him. “If you’re gonna make fun of me, at least be original,” he said. His head tilted. His hair fell just right. There was a pout, even. That feeling in the back of my mind pinged but I kept my mouth shut. People were in the cupboard for a reason. Shit, I was. Sitting quietly with my kitchen utensils were I belonged. Instead, I pulled my hand back and wrapped my arms over my stomach. “If you’re gonna make fun of the people that can see you, then you need to choose wisely,” he warned. He picked up his bag and shook his hair from his face. Again.

Ping ping, motherfucker.

I licked my lips. “People?” I asked.

It was like he just realized what he said. He pressed his lips together, eyes growing wide. Suddenly, his mouth split with an audible pop and there, right there, were fangs. A little stained like teeth of a wine drinker, but there, right there, were fangs that extended down from his upper gums and sat carefully over his bottom jaw. I watched as they shrank back into his gums until they looked like regular old – okay, who am I kidding, sharp as fuck canines.

What did my anthropology professor say? Oh, right.

I had a God damn, mother fucking paradigm shift right then and there. The universe itself tilted and the planets aligned and Zeus himself reached down to flick me in the back of the head. I knew what he was. I knew the word. Still, the only thing I could say was an intelligible, “Uhhhhhh.”

Pancho smacked his lips and sucked on his teeth again. He grabbed my arms and carefully turned me around. “That’s the normal reaction, it’s okay,” he murmured. He kept an arm around me as we walked. I half wondered what people who looked outside thought. Who knew. Vampires were said to be able to do a lot of things.

I did look up at him – boy was much taller than I was – and asked, “Are you just hugging air to people?”

“Yes, I am, so let’s walk faster,” he answered.

I knew campus was big, but I had never realized how big until Pancho took me to his university apartment on the. Other. Side. Of the world. I wish I were kidding. It was, like, fifteen blocks away from the bus stop bench. I didn’t even know the campus was that big, you know? But it was, and we walked up four flights of stairs and down, like, five hallways, until Pancho finally opened a door and unveiled his apartment.

There was a dog. There, right there, in the middle of the floor. It was small, and black, with a tail that was home to three perfectly round, although different sized, orbs of curled fur. That tiny, adorable, tea cup poodle jumped to its adorably small, teeny tiny paws, and barked as loud as it could.

Those damn evaporating tears poured down my face as I thought of my cats. Pancho panicked. He lowered me onto his leather futon near the door as I sobbed and asked me, repeatedly, what was wrong. I told him. I told him how my cats were at home by themselves, or probably with my parents, and I would never see them again. He had the fortitude to kiss my hair.

“Do you want me to get your cats?” he asked.

“Yes, I want my cats!” I wailed.

He carefully placed the tea cup poodle – named Thor – in my lap and set out every remote for the various devices around and connected to his television. He told me how to work his shower, how to work the stove if I was hungry, and left. The door clicked shut. It opened again as he asked for my address and I gave it to him through muffled and bubbly sobs as I buried my face into Thor’s fluffy tummy. He had rolled over in my lap. I was grateful. Pancho told me to give him an hour. The door shut and the lock clicked and I was alone with a happily panting Thor and my pathetic sobs. I righted Thor in my lap and he licked my face where my tears should have been. I smiled at scratched his ears.

“Well, that answers one question,” I cooed at Thor. He tilted his head at me. “Animals can see ghosts.” He leaned his face in towards mine and licked my nose clean. I squeezed my eyes shut as he continued to clean the rest of my face. When he was done, and his rancid dog breath was puffing in my face, I replied, “Thank you.”

He barked.

I nodded my head.

Thor jumped off my lap and click clacked his way across the hard wood floor to the kitchen, where he sat pretty next to a full food bowl. I followed him. He daintly pressed a paw into his food and brought it back to the floor. I stared at him. “You,” I stuttered, “You have food.”

He did it again.

“Yes, it’s right there.”

And again.

I crouched this time. “Food. Right there.”

Thor stood and shoved the plastic food bowl at me. I watched as it hit my foot. “I eat?” I asked, “I food?” Thor barked this time and sat back down. “I food,” I repeated. I stood and looked around the kitchen. “Me eat.”

Pancho’s kitchen was minimalistic and perfect – of course. The only flaw was a hook near a coffee pot that held a leash and collar, and a bowl underneath that held colorful doggy bags. The collar was teal. So was the leash. The leash itself was long and cloth and had black letters up and down it. I reached over and lifted a piece to read.

It said service dog.

I looked down at Thor. “Now you make sense,” I said. Thor lifted a paw. I dug around in the kitchen, finding little in the way of snacks and more in the way of garnishes for dishes. I opened a cabinet and found a single box of cereal. And in the fridge, milk. I made a bowl and sat on the island in the middle of the kitchen, kicking my feet and spooning the small sugary discs into my face. It was nice to eat. I didn’t feel hungry – I didn’t know if I could be hungry – but it was nice to eat. Comforting. Normal.

I looked around the apartment as I ate bowl after bowl until I had finished both the box of cereal and the milk carton. The living room had the futon, a matching chair, a glass coffee table, and a large flat screen with multiple game consoles and multimedia players underneath. There was a VCR. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw a VCR. Across from the island of the kitchen was a nice, square dining table, fit for four people. On the walls behind it were old pictures. Sepias and black and whites, with a single person in every one. I walked around the island, dragging my feet, and stared at them. It was the same man in every one.

It was Pancho.

The two walls were filled floor to ceiling in a gallery setting. It was a chronicle of his time. It was damn amazing. I wondered if he took the photos or had someone take them.

The door opened and I whipped around. Pancho was setting down two crates. He opened them carefully. From one shot a rotund feline in shades of brown. She yelled and yelled as she looked around, until her eyes settled on me. I fell to my knees as she waddled over and climbed into my lap. From the second slinked out a thinner, darker cat. He was much smaller and slight, and very very nervous. He, too, shot across the room to me once he spotted me. I sprawled on the floor and hugged them both too me.

Pancho make awkward sounds. “I don’t know how ghosts work,” he said. He shrugged. “But I can take all your stuff and bring it here. I’ve got another room.” I babbled at him. It was complete nonsense. Pancho patted his thighs. “I’m taking that as a yes.” He pointed across the living room to one of three doors. “I’m just gonna go make a bed for you,” he said.

There was a long time where I just stayed on the floor, smooching and hugging my cats even though they didn’t want the affection. My rotund child, Anna – Actually, Grand Duchess Anna Petrovna, but semantics – yelled as I buried my face in her stomach. She was purring. What a little liar. My other cat, Cracker Jacks, very gently meowed as he settled on my stomach. I heard Pancho walking past me as he made up the room. He stopped and his knees cracked.

“It’s getting close to morning,” he said softly.

“How did you get my kids so easily?” I asked instead.

He shrugged. “I have my ways,” he said. Vampire ways, probably. Fair enough. I wouldn’t push it. He ran a hand over Anna’s back. “I have to sleep soon, but you do whatever.”

I stared at him, at his stupid teal and brown hair and his stupid narrow face and hooked nose and giant ass eyes. What a stupid kid. What a nice kid. “Thanks,” I finally said.

Pancho shrugged. “We uh…” He cleared his throats and his eyes darted around. “We supes gotta stick together.”

Yeah. Supes. That’s the community name now. He patted my head and stood. “Hey, how old are you?” I asked. His mouth dropped open. “Is that a vampire faux pas I just committed?” I asked again.

“Uhhh,” was his response. He shrugged. “Nineteen.” I almost protested. What the fuck? What the actual fuck? Who in their right mind decided ‘oh hey, this kid is a tasty morsel, how about I convert him into a vampire?’ That’s, like, what parents do when they send their ten year olds to bible camp. “I’m going to bed now.” I tilted my head as I followed his form with my eyes. He opened the middle door in the wall. The room beyond was completely dark. Like. Horror movie dark. Roll for dark vision dark. I didn’t even know if he had windows. Maybe he didn’t.

What all was true for vampires?

I opened my mouth to ask but Pancho shut the door behind him. I saw he had one of those door fit things underneath it, the kind you use in winter to keep your warm air inside the house. There was another on the top of the door. Neat.

The fat Anna Banana crawled under my chin and sprawled across my chest and throat, pinning my head into that really awkward position. The sun rose. Kept rising. Made a bright square right on my face. I suffered. But I refused to move because my cats were asleep. Was I a great mom, or what?

Finally, Anna moved and padded somewhere and I heard the sound of claws in litter and wondered when the HELL Pancho had brought that, too. Weird. Vampires were weird. Cracker Jacks followed her and I attempted to roll backwards, heels over head, and failed with a choking sound. I climbed to my knees instead. I guess being a ghost didn’t come with cool supernatural powers like flexibility. I looked down at my green pants and frowned.

“Do ghosts wear normal people clothes or is there a ghost mall?” I shouted towards Pancho’s room.

“Fuck off,” came the muffled reply. I shrugged. Fair. I went to one of the other two doors and opened it to find a bathroom. It was nice – as nice as an apartment bathroom could be – and I took the chance to shower. Shampoo and conditioner and soap at least cleaned me off. One new thing I have learned about being a ghost. Once I was wrapped in a towel, I dug around Pancho’s drawers until I found a case of new toothbrushes. I stole a green one. He wouldn’t mind. I hoped, anyway. I scrubbed my teeth as vigorously as I had scrubbed my body and my hair and left.

The last door was a second bedroom. Bare of anything personal, it had a bed and a closet and a dresser and windows. You know, like a room would. I opened the closet and found some of Pancho’s clothes. I wondered if he had the closet in his own bedroom full. Probably. Boy looked like he shopped at places with half naked male models pretty often. I grabbed a pair of jeans that were almost too small and a shirt that was, also, almost too small. Would people see floating clothes? How did this ghost thing work? Could I scare people?

I pondered this for so long that when I stopped pondering, my hair was dry and in awkward curls and angles. I decided to test it. Shoving my hair back, I jogged across the apartment and grabbed a piece of fruit off the counter. A lime. Perfect.

Why did Pancho have limes?

Anyway, I opened a window wide enough to stick my arm out of it. Peeking through the window, I waited until someone passed by on the sidewalk. Then, I pushed the window completely open, leaning out, and dropped the lime on the kid’s head. He yelped and looked up. But he didn’t say anything. I even waved. Stuck my hand in my shirt and waved. Still, nothing.

Neat. I mean, it still sucked that I was a ghost. But now I was a lime throwing ghost that people couldn’t see in normal non-ghost clothes. Neat. I closed the window to make sure my cats wouldn’t jump out and, also, become ghosts, and sat on the floor. I didn’t really know what else to do. I looked over to where the crates sat and saw a few backpacks were sitting with them. Pancho had the good graces to grab some of my things, too. How nice.

Us supes really DO stick together, holy hell.

When I made it to the bags, I started to open them. One was filled with clothes. Well, I was already dressed, so he’d have to deal. Another was filled with my bathroom stuff. I pulled out a full bottle of my anti-depressants and shook it. It felt necessary to take one, so I did. Honestly, I was a little afraid of not taking it, even though I was dead. I remembered, one time, when I stopped taking my shit, and spent two days sobbing and wanting to die. I didn’t feel like doing that again. I dunked the bottle back into the bag after I was done and continued to look through the bags.

The door to Pancho’s room swung open. I looked back. The apartment was dark.

“How the fuck does ghost time work?” I asked. He shrugged as he made his way to the bathroom. “It was, like, noon not even twenty minutes ago.”

“Maybe it’s like when you sleep,” he said through a yawn. He stopped in the bathroom door and lifted the green toothbrush I had used. I shrugged this time. “Don’t make me regret this,” he threatened.

“Like you would kick me out.”

“I just met you yesterday,” he pointed out.

Valid. I kept my mouth shut. He showered and primped and pampered while I dug out socks and a pair of shoes. Ghost time passed. He nudged me, fully dressed and hair styled, and I looked up. “We’re gonna see a friend of mind. She might know a little more about what happened to you than I do.”

“Why do you say that?” I asked as I stood.

He led me outside and down the stairs. “She’s a journalist. She’s got her nose so deep in the supernatural scene that she knows anything that happens before it even happens.” Pancho’s eyes landed on me. “She should have an idea.”

I held up my hand and kicked the lime I had thrown when we reached it outside. “I fully trust the community reporter with my life.” Pancho said nothing. I wondered if he regretted helping me. Probably, I mean, now he has this roommate that doesn’t contribute anything, and that he didn’t even ask for.

Common Sense stepped in and said, “Shut up, you frivolous bitch, we just died.”

Depression backed into her corner. Yeah. Take that. Why can’t I listen to Common Sense more often?

I followed Pancho to a squat building off campus, one not too far from where he lived. He didn’t even knock. Instead, he just pushed the door open and a little bell dinged his arrival. “Miss Villa?” he sang into the office room. Office was generous. It was a little suite in a building, housing four desks and a door that was probably a back room. The back door was propped open with a bright red heel. That heel pushed the door open and a girl peeked out.

Retro. Retro. Fucking Retro. She owned the retro name. A cute sweetheart dress in black and white with buttons on the front, tight curls framing her head, and the brightest red lipstick I have ever seen. It matched her shoes. She grinned. “Mr. Zapata,” she greeted cheekily.

Please be my friend.

Pancho moved me towards a desk. “This is Piper Mills.”

“Like Paper Mills?” the girl asked.

“Haaaah,” I responded.

She crossed the room and held out her hand. “Paloma Villa,” she introduced herself. When I shook her hand, her expression changed. “Oh,” she said, “Piper.”

I made an unhappy sound. “Yup, Piper,” I said, I shoved my hands in the deep front pockets of the jeans I wore. “The girl that apparently killed herself.”

“Apparently?” Paloma asked. She kicked her heels off and sat in a chair. “The paper said it was a suicide. Open and shut.”

“Pap—I was in the paper?” I asked. I rounded the desk.

She turned the screen off. “You probably shouldn’t read it,” she murmured, “Maybe just…take a seat.”

“I’m not sensitive, I’m dead,” I stated. I crossed my arms. “Pancho said you’d know about things about…ghosts. Can you tell me?”

Paloma sighed. “Let’s go somewhere else,” she said. She turned the computer off and stood. I followed.

[passionroosevelt]

My daughter @kaylalarae_ ​ got me in tears tonight. I’ve been working hard getting my speaking brand booming. I’m receiving more orders for my PASSION t-shirts and hoodies but having to stand in long lines at UPS/Post Office is a headache. With Kayla’s hard earned paycheck at her first big job she gifted me a shipping label printer. Only entrepreneurs know the hardship of starting and running a business with hardly no financial support can be stressful. But I told y’all God is moving mightily in my life right now. Thank you Kayla. I know we’re paying for your tuition but you said, “Mommy, I wanted to buy you this gift.” I was telling her we could’ve used this money to pay on her tuition bill but my own mother told me to accept the gift. God, I hear you and I will let you lead the way. 🥺😢😭 I love this kid 💙 Who’s ready to order your shirts/hoodies? #passionroosevelt #proudparent #happy #gift #mommydaughter #thankful #shippinglabel #printer #business #branding #brand #blessed #collegestudent #tears #motivation #thankyoulord #labelprinter #shipping #moneymindset #daughter #instagood #weekendvibes #tshirts #hoodies #money https://www.instagram.com/p/CTI9RC3gUAU/?utm_medium=tumblr

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Riverdale, “Chapter Seventeen: The Town That Dreaded Sundown”

SOME TENSE SHIT!!!!! SIT BACK!!!!!

Jughead should definitely know that a serial killer needs to have a body count of three to earn that sobriquet, so what Riverdale has is a sort of obstinate murderer

I LOVE his serial killer thought-mannequins

“Damn good coffee”: of course the Riverdale library has one light bulb per shelf and of course the librarian is dressed like that, with a big, big flower pin and half-moon readers

Jug should probably NOT say things like “Research, not for school,” unless he wants to be put on a list, like in Se7en (he has to raise flags verbally as it appears the library is offline)

Cheryl’s hair: there is very little Cheryl in this episode, but I take heart from the fact that her hair looks as bouncy and incredible as always, in the background

Alice rolling her eyes at Hal putting in a stronger lock seems to encapsulate much of Alice’s particular joie de vivre: She hoovers up every grisly bit of information, draws the most macabre conclusion possible, and spreads her vision to the masses for others to panic, but dares the danger itself to try and affect her, Alice Cooper

another slide transition wherein Alice and Jughead are more or less doing the same thing!

one of these days Jughead is going to cautiously open the door of his trailer and get absolutely pummeled

Archie made a little target out of printer paper with a Sharpie

I really like the long, serious, universe-appropriate fallout of the video. people are like, What the FUCK were you thinking? because it was a fucking insane thing to do!

Hermione is ON THE MONEY about Archie right now. Archie was a bumbling hero last episode, but at the end, VIA HIRAM, took it to “the streets” and is now “threatening violence,” because he has PTSTunnel Vision

Veronica’s hot pink miniskirt? seconded

Hiram beaming as he ticks off the “chaos and confusion” spreading around Riverdale, half of it brought about by his bequest, wishes he had a glass of port to swirl menacingly

the Coopers seem to have a centerpiece on their dining room table of a big bowl filled with napkins

Best costume bit: Betty’s cut-out paper snowflake shirt???

The Blossom spawn: REMEMBER THAT POLLY RAN AWAY AGAIN? it was like the fourth time she ran away

Mädchen Amick, MÄDCHEN AMICK: Alice’s HUGE DRAMATIC inhales as she cry-scolds Betty. “AND THEN YOU TRY AND MAKE ME THE MONSTER.” PUNCH THE TABLE

Hal’s extremely calm, blue American Eagle sweater

okay when Archie said he took the original video down on his own, I was slightly mollified, but you know, YOU KNOW HE WASN’T DONE OKAY

at Betty’s request that Jughead leave Southside, during lunch, to go to Riverdale, during lunch: “Betty, I have to try and at least maintain a semblance of being a student here.”

Sexy, aesthetic Southside: Sweet Pea’s computer is such a piece of shit, he is amazing

Toni has on some sort of incredible elastic headband from Claire’s

Gay?!: Fogarty wants to earn his “Serpent stripes,” which apparently means you need to...take something to the streets…

he and Moose would probably get along. they seem to be built from the same mold

Sweet Pea LOVES this idea and pounds the table!!! gerrymandered violence!!!! meanwhile Jughead is panicking because he is really bad at violence

Gay.: “I know this guy,” AKA I slept on his bedroom floor for a couple weeks

Jughead calls Archie “a milquetoast,” a word Archie would not understand

there is a BEAUTIFUL, eye-rolling Serpent along the wall behind Sweet Pea, with a nose ring, who does not care that Jughead does not like this

Sweet Pea’s sort of caustic bluster comes from someone who has probably never shot anybody. I think he is still trying to figure out Jughead, whom he just calls, proprietarily, “Jones”

Archie > Dawson: Archie strutting down the hallway, revelling inwardly at how badass his callout of the Black Hood was, crashing into a Veronica who does not give a shit, is almost perfect except that there isn’t literally a record-scratch sound effect

there is a girl in a pink sweater, by the way, who gives Archie what would be my expression, which is like, Don’t you, like, play the guitar?

Fifth period is AP English: Archie read Lord of the Flies but missed the part where it’s not about human nature in general but rather the nature of spoiled boys

Veronica is slightly stunned that Archie does not have a plan more intricate than basically what he outlined in the video. basically that Hermione was right

I don’t think Betty/Jughead and Veronica/Archie interact this episode, which means we do not get to read the screen of Archie’s phone receiving Jughead’s text: “nice video, YOU DOLT. ARE YOU HAVING SOME SORT OF PSYCHOTIC BREAK.” five minutes later: “is this because I stopped sleeping on your bedroom floor? tell me the truth.”

someone transcribed the audio of Archie’s video into Principal Weatherbee’s olive Moleskin dayplanner

if Episode 1-5 Archie saw what Episode 17 Archie has done to his music and football career, he would have a coronary

Kevin has “reupped” his membership to a hookup site for blue-state people in red-state states

OOH the soundtrack when Betty talks about getting the Black Hood letter was SORT OF opening-credits Se7en, but like, by way of the Riverdale theme

Betty makes a classic horror movie decision (good or bad TBD by the outcome) of deciding not to tell anyone about The Test

Kevin makes a valid point that Betty is not unionized FBI Special Agent Will Graham, or even trainee Clarice Starling

50 Shades of Betty: Betty’s eyeliner manipulates Alice’s dramaternal instincts

Alice assumed the Black Hood is “terrified” of her so he uses the second-best Alice, which is Betty

in another Zodiac move, Alice publishes the cipher in case an old retired couple takes a crack at it and solves it over breakfast (this is a great movie)

Reggie’s world is collapsing around his ears: “PLEASE, BRO. SIGN THE LETTER.”

Archie is taking Alice’s spin seriously that the killer must be a Southsider, like he took Hiram’s word to form…….I’m exhausted

this episode’s Archie is the same Archie as “The Outsiders” when he outs Jughead’s father as a Serpent, which was awful, except the awfulness this episode entertains me

Dilton just wants to watch the world burn, which at this point Archie should recognize since he says things like “The hunter becomes the hunted” and “And then there was one”

Summer + Blair = Veronica: Veronica quietly confronts her father, Slytherin to Slytherin, about Archie’s simpleness being both a pro and con

is it weird for her to have to sit facing a portrait of herself? (probably not)

the CW website dims when you pause it, so I can’t read Jughead’s notes, but he’s taking notes longhand, which is probably, like, calming

I want to say he’s put up a few of his movie posters! Jughead has a bedroom!!!!!

Toni prefers Jake Gyllenhaal’s Zodiac book from the movie (this is a great season of Riverdale for David Fincher)

Jughead is kind of adorable in this scene. he has never had a friend, EVER, who has not given him a weird look when he drops a reference to H. H. Holmes’ murder hotel or Dahmer’s sex zombies or whatever (Archie does not know who they are). his big blue-eyed gaze up at Toni is because he finally found someone else who listens to The Last Podcast on the Left

though Albert Fish stuck pins up his dick, so there’s a time and a place for all quips

“True crime is my crack” is an understatement

“True crime is my JJ” would work

the lock screen on Betty’s phone is like a pink Versailles print because Betty is a French Rococo princess

in a twist I never saw coming, Jughead chooses the “__ - __” version of a dash instead of an em dash

Veronica supports Archie’s dangerous side-project because right now it’s just Archie and his “comely crew” picking up Ethel on the side of the road. she does not know of the plan to go TO THE SOUTHSIDE, LIKE A MORON, for a confrontation no one else wants

I’d like to know what secret fund Archie is dipping into to buy Ms. Grundy $300 cello bows and $500 tactical Army gear

Jughead 1) brought his beanie with him to the door and 2) doesn’t bother putting it on when it’s Betty, because he is a special young man

Betty wants to see Jughead EVERY DAY

Jughead becomes the second television character in history to admit to having morning breath, after Sookie St. James

Fwoopy hair is the best hair: Jughead’s freshly slept-on mop of hair, Jughead’s bedhead, reinforcing the lesson that seeing him without his hat on is a privilege reserved for the few, the proud

Jughead eats: Jughead’s breakfast of coffee and cereal feels right, true

consider that Jughead could have lied and not told Betty that he’s been doing research on the side—and it’s not even on the side! it’s on his own time, at his school—with his ONE OTHER FRIEND, leaving her to “discover” this fact later when Toni “lets it slip,” what we might call the Gossip Girl route. instead Jughead’s like, I’ve been doing X with Z, by the way

Betty very cannily proposes a group project to steer this train barrelling down a hill and makes sure to haul in Kevin, an ally

Jughead’s resistance to fully embracing Kevin continues

“Are you saying I’m not rocking the scoop-neck look?”

Veronica was rich: Veronica’s late-night planning is impressive, as was someone’s ability to come up with a wholly original logo for a downtown office space converted into a restaurant only open for brunch and happy hour for her

Cheryl’s a chaos angel from hell: Cheryl agreed to help distribute the T-shirts, I can only assume because she knows she is spreading Hiram’s chaos and confusion

WHAT’S UP, TONI?

Kevin knows where his platonic bread is buttered: “ICONIC AND BEYOND REPROACH”

Kevin looks SO MUCH like his father in this scene!

Betty TAKES DOWN her ponytail, in an incredible soft-power move!

God bless jingle-jangle: Toni is right that people need to stop TOTALLY ERRONEOUSLY forcing themselves to assume everything bad is from the southside and Betty is right that Toni is TOTALLY ERRONEOUSLY forcing herself to assume Betty is Betty’s mother! it’s not Toni’s fault that she didn’t get that Blue & Gold issue with Betty’s huge “FP JONES PURE AS FRESHLY FALLEN SNOW” headline. however I do wish Toni’s defenses of the southside, that mostly it’s patriarchs like Clifford Blossom who are involved in drugs and that Archie’s Red Circle IS A GANG, were not so couched in obnoxious SJW verbiage

Every triangle has three corners, every triangle has three sides: also I agree with other very eloquent, thoughtful people that what Toni probably wants is for Jughead to just be a fucking Serpent already and that Betty, to the Serpents, is an almost out-of-nowhere anchor to the preppy, ancien régime northside who needs to go so Jughead’s transformation will be complete

CAN PEOPLE STOP TELLING JUGHEAD’S GANG SECRETS FOR HIM? CAN JUGHEAD LET PEOPLE KNOW THINGS HE WANTS TO TELL THEM ON HIS OWN TIME? CAN JUGHEAD HAVE ONE SINGLE THING TO HIMSELF?

Archie going to the southside, completely unbidden, is GLORIOUSLY HORRIBLE, OH GOD

if Jughead knew Archie was strolling around graffitiing vintage barn doors on his side of town just to intimidate the locals with a giant defacing threat of baby police state violence, Jughead would actually, literally kill him

some sorta sweet green muscle car parked there though!

I’m writing a scene where it’s gay.: as it is, Sweet Pea would be honored to do Jughead’s dirty work for him, except that Archie is PACKING HEAT

These students are legally children: Sweet Pea’s feelings look hurt that Archie escalated this so insanely and Archie’s hand is shaking because he wants to be a big scary guy but really he is an infant

Allison Anders’ camera pans so lovingly up Betty and Jughead’s semi-entwined bodies as a sort of cool-down exhale, like Everything is fine

Jughead confirmed big spoon

“Exhaustion. It’s not easy being us.”

Cheryl’s sheaths: Don’t miss Cheryl’s low V-neck in science class!!!

she’s partnered with Kevin, so...to be a fly on the side of that table…

Archie can TRY TO PRETEND like he’s still writing songs!

VERONICA’S READING GLASSES ARE BACK

HERMIONE IS GREAT AGAIN

“Let me tell you something about loyalty. AND I KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT.”

YOU KNOW I LOVE THE HUGE THEMATIC THUNDERSTORM

YOU KNOW JUGHEAD HAULED HIMSELF TO THE COOPERS’ AFTER HE READ THAT LETTER

Jughead CANNOT BELIEVE he was not immediately included in the intimate circle of two who knew HIS GIRLFRIEND got a PERSONAL LETTER from his PET SERIAL KILLER

oh my god, oh my god, someday I will be a good enough writer (@nimmieamee) to sit down and with cool confidence articulate all the ways that Jughead’s scene with Archie in the second episode, when he grabs Archie by the lapels and shakes him, with his words, begging him to TELL SOMEBODY, is Jughead’s defining, most fantastic, saddest, righteous moment, from a kid who screams at the sky that he doesn’t care about anything yet cares EXTREMELY about EVERYTHING. it gladdens me...it is my JJ...that Jughead does the same here, to someone else he loves, who is sitting on explosive information that is putting, you know, lots of people in danger, just because the information is too close or too scary. you know, Jughead can be on whatever side of the town he wants. but Jughead is a fucking moral compass. Jughead is like the Zodiac killer’s target symbol, except that his target IS JUSTICE

“I’ve been gone for two days.”

Jughead doubts it: at this point I honestly can’t tell if I think Archie would absolutely know that Betty isn’t to blame for anything or if he’d be like….But is it possible…

goddamn fucking Jughead like when Betty was like, AM I CRAZY, Jughead is like, GET IT TOGETHER

it was too much when he sat next to her and rubbed her shoulder. his signature move. can you believe this. it even calmed Archie once. Veronica, you’re next. sit down on a couch built for two and let your eyes start to fill. I need a Jughead right now because of all the emotion I’m feeling about Jughead

HE EVEN TRIGGERS ANOTHER BLUE & GOLD BRAINWAVE I’M HAVING A HEART ATTACK

Veronica makes an instinctively uncomfortable face reaching into the tank, but the tank water is clean, for the record. I want to stand up for these bathrooms because they are so much immeasurably fancier than my high school bathrooms

Archie’s blackout speech to Veronica in his living room is the apex of his insanity, so it’s all going to be okay, but Veronica has to do all the work to get him there

“No, you just asked me to fetch your loaded gun.”

a Reggie will always defuse tension

Penelope’s looking good at the town hall! you can only barely tell her face is fucked up

“In the Book of Reg, that makes you a top-tier loyal badass.” basically what Serpent Daddy told Jughead about his father

GET IT? BECAUSE THE RED CIRCLE IS BASICALLY A GANG? they’re both gangs. case dismissed

Sweet Pea just gets cuter and cuter

SWEET PEA AND REGGIE, TOGETHER AT LAST?!

“You have crap timing, bro.”

Veronica calls them all “troglodytes,” which I think isn’t giving troglodytes enough credit

everyone promptly concedes to Veronica, who is far and away the most natural leader amongst them

Jughead and Betty break into the library to stop an actual killer and Veronica breaks into the school to get Archie’s gun, so you tell me who’s a better boyfriend (they are both excellent girlfriends)

okay maybe they go to the library, which is just open late, and calmly check out a Nancy Drew book, but once again Betty&Jughead’s plot is like THE SKY IS FALLING, meanwhile Archie is like, THIS PROBLEM I CREATED IS GETTING OUT OF HAND!

The 2001 Josie and the Pussycats movie was a masterpiece: Mayor McCoy is about done with Alice

What damn high school in America: I don’t think Alice means that the Southside kids should integrate into Riverdale High so much as they should just end up on the streets like the hoodlums they are

THIS “PIT OF VIOLENCE WAITING TO ERUPT” IS A RED BUTTON LABELED DO NOT PRESS THAT ARCHIE ANDREWS CAN’T LOOK AWAY FROM

Certified pedigree: “Alice, you’re the one holding the cleaver.” WHERE IS YOUR SON FREDERICK

Fred saying “Meanwhile there’s a guy out there with a gun and a hood” overtop Archie, a guy with a gun and a hood, “bringing out the worst in this town”

Archie’s haymaker is really good, though

Sixth period is Intro to Film: the pullback along the line of Serpents and Bulldogs crashing into each other is straight out of Captain America: Civil War because it cannot be improved upon

does Hiram WANT Riverdale to get divided into two different towns so that he can buy one of the towns?

I’ve seen Brick like thirty times: Veronica, in a cape, fires a gun into the air to stop the gang fight, because out of everyone there she is actually impressive

Dilton Doiley is a canonically great dancer: Does Dilton—stab himself? is Dilton ACTUALLY a psychopath?

Betty and Jughead with their post-investigation wet hair is classic

I am breathlessly waiting, BREATHLESSLY, for Alice’s hammer to come down on Jughead

Veronica uses the word “fraught,” which Archie will write down for later

The female gaze: Archie’s torso and Veronica’s thighs

the warm summer rain of perspective starting to mist in on Archie’s garden of trauma

Betty answers her the call from “Unknown,” because I suppose she’s never answered one and it’s turns out it’s from the car dealership in the state you don’t even live in anymore trying to tell you that the warranty on your Corolla is about to expire soon when you know very fucking well it expired like ten years ago and they just want YOUR MONEY

Please protect Betty: BETTY PLEASE BE CAREFUL!!!!!

NEXT WEEK: Cheryl waves at me

[lovemesomesurveys]

Do you ever judge people based on if they believe in God or not? No, I have no right to judge.

Do you ever brush your teeth in the shower? No.

Has your printer ever stopped working at the last minute and you had a paper due the next day? What did you do? Oh that’s definitely happened more than once. I truly believe that printers have a way of knowing when you really need something printed, so it purposely messes up. It’s a fact.

Are you sometimes scared to express your opinions in fear of what others might think? Yes. I keep a lot of my opinions to myself.

Do you have a girl that is strictly a friend that isn’t related to you that you can go to? No.

Have you ever painted your nails on only one hand, forgetting about the other one or getting side-tracked? No.

Have you ever tried sucrets? I have no idea what that is.

Would you date someone that smokes? Cigarettes? That would be difficult for me because I can’t be around that smell. It seriously gives me headaches and makes me lightheaded.

What about drinks? As long as they’re not an alcoholic.

Have you ever gone to one of those parties where everyone is falling around drunk everywhere? No.

Are you “the good guy”, or “the bad guy”, or somewhere in between? I think I’m the good guy genuinely, but I’ve been going through a lot and I haven’t been the best that I could be.

Do you ever erase the numbers off of surveys just because they annoy you? No.

Person you like shows up at your house: you … I would die because it would be unexpected, which means I would be a mess.

Last person you talked on the phone with? My mom.

Do you think you will have the same best friend a year from now? My mom will always be my best friend.

Do you have siblings over the age of twenty-one? Yep, my older brother is 33.

Will tomorrow be better than today? *shrug* I imagine it’ll be another typical day in the life of me.

What do you hear right now? Catfish.

What was the last thing to go into your mouth? Water.

Do you usually tell people when you’re mad at them? No.

Honestly, how is your heart lately? Sad.

Do you miss anyone? Yes.

Are you waiting for a phone call? Nope.

If an ex said they hated you, what would you say? If Joseph said he hated me, it would really come out of nowhere. I’d have no idea what would cause him to feel so strongly in a negative way towards me.

What would you do if you found out your most recent ex was in a relationship? It’d be... weird.

What do you think when someone kisses you on your forehead? It’s cute.

What do you usually do right when you wake up? Check the time and then take my meds.

Are you looking forward to anything? No.

How late did you stay up last night? Until about 5.

Do you truly hate anyone? No.

Would you ever get a tattoo? I’d like to, but I’m a big baby.

In the past forty-eight hours, have you hung out with a girl? My mom and my pup.

Were you happy when you woke up today? I don’t wake up happy.

If someone liked you, would you want them to tell you? If it was Ty.

Would you rather go back a week or go forward? Forward, I guess.

Would you ever smile at a stranger? I do if we make eye contact.

Who was the last person to text you? My mom.

What are you doing today? I have a doctor appointment, but after that I’m just coming back home and will probably go to sleep.

Truthfully, is there someone you used to date that you miss?  I do miss Joseph. Not in that way, just as a friend.

Have you ever gotten burnt by a cigarette? No.

Have you ever been so bored that you started drooling on yourself? No.

Do you brush your teeth right away when you wake up? No, I have my coffee first.

Do you have someone of the opposite sex you can tell everything to? No.

Want to get smashed tonight? No.

What time are you getting up tomorrow? I’ve been sleeping until 4 these days.

Are you happy with the choices you’ve made? No, not all. There’s a lot I regret.

Think back to last June; were you single? Yes.

How did you feel when you woke up today? I haven’t gone to bed, yet.

Have you ever made someone laugh when they were crying? Yes.

Describe how you feel right now. Tired.

Would you date someone three years older than you? Yeah.

Do you prefer to shower at night or in the morning? At night.

Do you think more about the past, present, or future? The past and present.

Are you okay with the life you live? No.

Could you handle living with the last person you texted? I do live with my mom.

Was the last book you read for fun, or was it for some type of assignment? For fun.

Have you accomplished any goals you set for yourself this year so far? The year is just starting, but I haven’t set any goals for myself.

If you could go forward in time and see your life 5 years from now, what would you hope to see? I would hope that I got health stuff better managed and that I got my life a little more together. I can’t see all that happening in 5 years, though. That’s not much time.

Are there still movie rental stores where you live or have they all gone out of business? They’re all gone. Closest thing is Redbox.

What was the last thing to annoy you or make you upset? Something stupid, I’m sure.

Do you think you would be a good match for your celebrity crush/es assuming you have one? Why? If you don’t have one, who was the last person you saw that you found attractive? Ha, no. He can do soooo much better than me. I stand no chance.

When looking for something to watch on TV do you tend to pick shows you know you like, or try new shows that look interesting even though you’ve never heard of them before? Usually just stick to what I know.

Have you ever been ditched by someone only to find them out and about with someone else? I found out about it later.

How old were you when you had your wisdom teeth removed? I got mine young, I think I was in like 6th grade.

What is the last song you sang out loud? I don’t recall.

Where was the last job application you filled out sent to? I haven’t filled out any.

Have you ever been fired from a job? Nope. I never had a job to be fired from.

What do people tell you your voice sounds like? They haven’t said it sounded like anything.

What financial class are you? Middle.

What poster is hanging closest to you? None.

What time did you go to bed last night? I’ve been asked this so many times just within the past few surveys I’ve done tonight.

Do you watch any reality shows? Yes, a few.

Are you more comfortable with men or women? It depends on the person.

Do you think you’re fat? No.

Have you ever borrowed money from someone and never repaid them? No.

Do you have a pet cat? No.

What is worse: physical or emotional pain? Both are awful, but emotional pain seems to go deeper and last longer.

How is your hair? A mess.

Who was the last person who called you? My mom.

How long does it take you to fall asleep at night? I’m up late, and usually until I’m finally so tired I can’t keep my eyes open.

How many people have you had strong feelings for in the year of 2012? One.

What are you doing for your next birthday? No idea. I’m really not thinking about that.

Would you go on a date with someone right now if they asked? If it was Ty.

Do you believe that if you want something bad enough, you’ll get it? No, it’s not enough to just want it.

Last movie you watched? On TV it was The Devil Wears Prada.

Who were you with? I was by myself.

Who came over last? My older brother.

Have you ever wanted to be a ballet dancer? No.

Does your family keep tons of leftovers in the fridge? We keep leftovers if there are any.

Favourite FRIENDS character? That is, if you like it. I don’t watch it.

Skullcandy headphones, yay or nay? I have the Beats ear phones.

Are you thinking of getting another piercing? Where? No.

Do you love when people remember little things about you? Yes.

Do you ‘bless’ strangers when they sneeze? Yes.

How many phones have you gone through? Maybe like 6 or 7.

Have you always lived in the house you currently reside in? Nope.

Do you think your future will be a good one? It’s terrifying to think about.

[surveysonfleek]

689.

Do you ever judge people based on if they believe in God or not? not at all. i’m extremely accepting of other people’s religions as long as they don’t try to preach or convert me.

Do you ever brush your teeth in the shower? i’ve done it before lol.

Has your printer ever stopped working at the last minute and you had a paper due the next day? What did you do? yep. i made my friend print it.

Are you sometimes scared to express your opinions in fear of what others might think? eh... it depends who i’m talking to. i’ll generally keep my opinions to myself in front of strangers but i’m willing to challenge and discuss issues with my friends.

Do you have a girl that is strictly a friend that isn’t related to you that you can go to? yes.

Have you ever painted your nails on only one hand, forgetting about the other one or getting side-tracked? no lol. i’ll only ever paint my nails when i know i’ll be completely free of distractions.

Have you ever tried sucrets? no.

Would you date someone that smokes? i currently do.

What about drinks? yes but not excessively. 

Have you ever gone to one of those parties where everyone is falling around drunk everywhere? back when i was younger, yes. a lot.

Are you “the good guy”, or “the bad guy”, or somewhere in between? in between but leaning more towards the good guy.

Do you ever erase the numbers off of surveys just because they annoy you? no, too much effort.

Person you like shows up at your house: you … invite them in.

Last person you talked on the phone with? my mum.

Do you think you will have the same best friend a year from now? hopefully.

Do you have siblings over the age of twenty-one? nope. she’s still 20.

Will tomorrow be better than today? no because i have work tomorrow lol.

What do you hear right now? just the fan.

What was the last thing to go into your mouth? dessert.

Do you usually tell people when you’re mad at them? most of the time. i won’t say that i’m mad ‘at’ them, i’ll just say i’m angry.

Honestly, how is your heart lately? it’s okay.

Do you miss anyone? yes.

Are you waiting for a phone call? no.

If an ex said they hated you, what would you say? cool.

What would you do if you found out your most recent ex was in a relationship? that’s fine.

What do you think when someone kisses you on your forehead? doesn’t happen often but it’s sweet.

What do you usually do right when you wake up? check the time.

Are you looking forward to anything? my days off tbh.

How late did you stay up last night? really late. like 5am lol.

Do you truly hate anyone? no.

Would you ever get a tattoo? no.

In the past forty-eight hours, have you hung out with a girl? yes.

Were you happy when you woke up today? not particularly. it was boiling today.

If someone liked you, would you want them to tell you? no, unless it was my boyfriend.

Would you rather go back a week or go forward? forward.

Would you ever smile at a stranger? sure.

Who was the last person to text you? my boyfriend.

What are you doing today? today is over. i just lazed around and watched black mirror then wen to my boyfriend’s house for dinner.

Truthfully, is there someone you used to date that you miss? no.

Have you ever gotten burnt by a cigarette? yes lol.

Have you ever been so bored that you started drooling on yourself? what? no.

Do you brush your teeth right away when you wake up? not always. i’ll do it before leaving the house.

Do you have someone of the opposite sex you can tell everything to? yes.

Want to get smashed tonight? no.

What time are you getting up tomorrow? not sure yet.

Are you happy with the choices you’ve made? not entirely.

Think back to last June; were you single? no.

How did you feel when you woke up today? hot and sluggish.

Have you ever made someone laugh when they were crying? probably.

Describe how you feel right now. tired and bored.

Would you date someone three years older than you? yes.

Do you prefer to shower at night or in the morning? at night. i hate lying in my bed without being clean.

Do you think more about the past, present, or future? present and future mostly.

Are you okay with the life you live? yes.

Could you handle living with the last person you texted? hmmm i sure hope so. he’s super lazy but i hope he learns to grow up if we end up living together.

Was the last book you read for fun, or was it for some type of assignment? for fun.

Have you accomplished any goals you set for yourself this year so far? this year just started but i really hope so.

If you could go forward in time and see your life 5 years from now, what would you hope to see? better job, financially stable, married and maybe kids.

Are there still movie rental stores where you live or have they all gone out of business? the last one in sydney is in my area. they’ve had this stupid ‘closing down’ sale for at least six months now.

What was the last thing to annoy you or make you upset? my boyfriend.

Do you think you would be a good match for your celebrity crush/es assuming you have one? Why? If you don’t have one, who was the last person you saw that you found attractive? i don’t have celebrity crushes anymore.

When looking for something to watch on TV do you tend to pick shows you know you like, or try new shows that look interesting even though you’ve never heard of them before? i’m always willing to try new shows to possibly binge watch lol.

Have you ever been ditched by someone only to find them out and about with someone else? no.

How old were you when you had your wisdom teeth removed? haven’t removed them yet!

What is the last song you sang out loud? i forgot.

Where was the last job application you filled out sent to? a new hotel in the city.

Have you ever been fired from a job? no... i’ve been ‘let go’ though.

What do people tell you your voice sounds like? idk haha. i don’t get many comments on my voice tbh.

What financial class are you? middle.

What poster is hanging closest to you? none in this room.

What time did you go to bed last night? like 5am.

Do you watch any reality shows? not right now. i’m waiting for the new america’s next top model though.

Are you more comfortable with men or women? women generally.

Do you think you’re fat? yes.

Have you ever borrowed money from someone and never repaid them? no lol. i hate borrowing money from people in general.

Do you have a pet cat? no. i hate cats.

What is worse: physical or emotional pain? physical only because i think i’m mentally strong enough to move on from emotional pain.

If you had to get up at 6 AM tomorrow morning, would it be painful? hell yes.

How is your hair? curly and messy.

Who was the last person who called you? my mum.

How long does it take you to fall asleep at night? it can be anywhere from 5 minutes to an hour.

How many people have you had strong feelings for in the year of 2012? one.

What are you doing for your next birthday? no idea, my birthday just passed so i have a whole year to think of it.

Would you go on a date with someone right now if they asked? not right now lol.

Do you believe that if you want something bad enough, you’ll get it? if it’s achievable and you work hard to get it, then yeah.

Last movie you watched? i forgot.

Who were you with? idk.

Who came over last? my boyfriend.

Have you ever wanted to be a ballet dancer? never.

Does your family keep tons of leftovers in the fridge? not really, only when there’s an event like christmas or a birthday.

Favourite FRIENDS character? That is, if you like it. never got into it.

Skullcandy headphones, yay or nay? haven’t listened with one tbh.

Are you thinking of getting another piercing? Where? nope.

Do you love when people remember little things about you? yes. it’s a pleasant surprise.

Do you ‘bless’ strangers when they sneeze? yes.

How many phones have you gone through? i’d guess around 10 or so?

Have you always lived in the house you currently reside in? no, moved here when i was 8.

Do you think your future will be a good one? hopefully.