#Hamm's towel

[opheliaintherushes]

Noah Hawley said, we've been letting Jon Hamm coast on charm for too long. Let me give him a monologue about interest and debts and remind everyone he can be a damn good villain.

[grannyandgrandpascreations]

Have A Hamm's Day Kitchen Dish Towel

Have a Hamm’s Day Flour Sack white Kitchen tea towel is a perfect unique gift for the Hamm’s Beer Bear Collector or perfect bar towel! This towel is a unique gift for any Hamm’s Beer Lover!

Flour sack dish towels are called “flour sack” because they are modeled after the thin cotton bags that flour and grain used to be packed in, which were re-used as towels. The thin cotton yarn and the looser weave make for a towel that’s extra absorbent. You can even air dry your salad greens; the super absorbent nature of flour sack towels makes them great for drying delicate greens. Also, flour sack towels are lint free! Which means no more fuzzies on your wine glasses when you wipe them dry!

Flour sack towels are also softer and significantly larger than a standard kitchen towel….and more towel is always a good thing! You can use these towels for drying, wiping, cleaning, or dusting and they can be used for fun decorations.

Each flour sack kitchen towel measures 28 in. x 29 inches (Product dimensions L x W x H – 28 x 29 x 29 inches). They are 100% cotton, durable and absorbent. These are flat woven towels; they are perfect for cooking or baking and can safely be used around food such as covering dough for rising or as a food strainer. These towels also double as a kind of strainer or cheese cloth; the fine weave means you can strain sauces and broths through a flour sack towel to clarify them. Flour sack kitchen towels are sturdy, highly absorbent, dry quickly, and are designed to stand up to most any cleaning job. The towels easily withstand frequent washings and are made for repeated daily use.

The flour sack kitchen towel is a quality item with versatility and utility, we offer everyday designs and special occasion designs. Our flour sack towels are a great gift idea and very inexpensive!

Care instructions: Machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Tumble dry low.

Due to different light settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you for visiting Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations, we truly appreciate your support of small businesses. We also personalize our products, please reach out to us with any personalizing any of our products, additional fee's may apply.

Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com to view more products.

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Have A Hamm’s Day White Kitchen Towel. Great kitchen décor for the Hamm’s Beer or Hamm’s Bear Collector. This kitchen towel is available in one different writing colors. Granny & Grandpa’s Custom Creations also offers a Monthly Kitchen Towel Subscription Box…..check out our Kitchen Towel Subscription Box.

We are all a little bit of a mess in our own way, especially in the kitchen, which is why you can never have too many kitchen towels! Granny & Grandpa’s Custom Creation kitchen towels are attractive, affordable, update your kitchen décor with Granny & Grandpa’s kitchen towels and they make GREAT gifts! Our kitchen towels only come in white, but our designs are in many different colors.

Each flour sack kitchen towel measures 28 in. x 29 inches (Product dimensions L x W x H – 28 x 29 x 29 inches). They are 100% cotton, durable and absorbent. These are flat woven towels; they are perfect for cooking or baking and can safely be used around food such as covering dough for rising or as a food strainer. You can use these towels for drying, wiping, cleaning, or dusting and they can be used for fun decorations. Flour sack kitchen towels are sturdy, highly absorbent, dry quickly, and are designed to stand up to most any cleaning job. The towels easily withstand frequent washings and are made for repeated daily use. The flour sack kitchen towel is a quality item with versatility and utility, we offer everyday designs and special occasion designs. Our flour sack towels are a great gift idea and very inexpensive!

If your desired writing color is not shown, please reach out to us at grannyscustomcreations@gmail.com, as we would like to be able to accommodate your desired writing color to the design. Our Kitchen Towels are only available in white. Writing colors do vary.

Care instructions: Machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Tumble dry low.

[scribeofmorpheus]

18+ short | Miguel O’Hara

"Ease into it" - Miguel O’hara x OC Althea Temple

Content Warning: 18+ VIEWER’S DISCRETION. PTA-meeting eye candy Miguel?; smut; pretty much the staple progression of foreplay to swooning (this chapter belongs to the series: Infinitely More) Words: 2.3k read on ao3 | Infinitely More

TRANSL: ¡Maldita sea! Has hecho un desastre con mi escritorio... ¿No es así? ¡Puedo saborearte en el aire!: "Dammit! You've made a mess of my desk... haven't you? I can taste you in the air!"

***

Miguel had been prepared to spend the rest of his afternoon counting down the hours until he could log off his computer, turn off all notifications to his email and distract himself with a few laps at the pool until Aly got off shift.

It had been a tiresome month for her. Her time off since the accident had rewired her clock. Sticking to routine became harder for her, and the expectation that she could simply jump right back into work as though she’d never left was a foolhardy one.

Going from doing 6k steps a day on average to busting her ass at the hospital, increasing her daily step count to 20k+ was just the start of it.

There were the late nights. The out-of-synch sleep-work schedules. Missed PTA meetings at Hope’s new school—not that Miguel minded stepping in for her, the soccer moms were easily distracted by a well-timed smile and tactfully chosen tight shirts. Hope actually preferred it when Miguel picked her up from school. They’d sometimes take scenic routes back to the apartment, sneaking ice cream before dinner, making impromptu stops at the planetarium or science museums when they both needed an excuse to put off doing their chores.

But, as much as Miguel enjoyed their new dynamic—their new apartment and calm ever-after—he also missed Aly. He missed watching cheesy reruns of her favourite TV show. He missed cooking with her. He missed date night and heavy make-out sessions on the couch when they’d have the apartment to themselves.

And, from the state of how easily riled up he was, the ache radiating through him as he stood under the gym showers, cold water steaming from the heat roiling off his tense muscles, he missed being able to satiate his baser urges.

His mind kept conjuring the contour of her waist under his grip, the shine of her hips as they snaked around his midriff, the rhythm her breasts would fall into when his thrust would grow even, her mouth parted in an O…

God! He turned the faucet to the coldest level. He was getting hard.

Not feeling like the gym showers were the most accommodating of locations, Miguel cut his shower short, conditioner still weighing his hair down as he ran the towel through his hair.

As he worked his way into his boxers, he was painstakingly aware of how much heavier he felt straining against the white cotton. Fuck. He swallowed his sweet venom and grumbled as he was instantly reminded of his late start to breakfast a few days earlier.

Aly had been on her period—a situation that made his current predicament so much worse; Aly was always more… catty when she was on her period. Easily riled. Restless through midnight. The bane to his big spoon when she’d grind against him.

To make up for it—or possibly to satiate her own desire to see him wrecked and covered in sweat—Aly had given him a toe-curling orgasm with her mouth. Her throat opening up to swallow as much as she could before his cum splattered onto her bare chest.

Maybe a run was in order.

 Just as he was about to untangle his jeans from his legs, a message popped up on his watch.

NARWHAL: HEY THERE, BANDIT! I HAVE FANTASTIC NEWS… GINA AGREED TO COVER MY SHIFT. NARWHAL: HOPE’S SLEEPING OVER AT BREA’S. WE HAVE THE APARTMENT TO OURSELVES… NARWHAL: ARE YOU ALONE?

A sudden dryness overcame his mouth as he tried to swallow the influx of sweet, sweet venom.

With a controlled breath, Miguel hastily backed his gym back, tied his shoelaces and leaned across the bench, peeking to see if there was anyone around.

Dead silence.

Heart hammering wildly, he typed: YES.

NARWHAL: GOOD…

The three dots kept dancing on his screen as he waited for her to finish the text, but then a video file loaded in the chat. The audio symbol was slashed in the top right corner. Thank fuck! No audio.

His hands were trembling when he pressed play, and then he nearly ruptured a blood vessel when he watched the video.

Aly had slipped into a dark, lacey lingerie slip dress. The camera panned from her collarbone to her nipples, lingering by the tattoo on her ribs before dipping to her bellybuttom, and then lower… zooming into the red cord that tickled her inner thigh.

He knew what that cord was attached to.

Hidden under her dress, buried inside her, were two Ben Wa balls. She’d ordered them after reading a foreplay article centred on “adjusting to size easier”.

He couldn’t tell if she stretched easier after removing them, but he knew she was always soaked. More of a friction chaser.

“Volviéndome loco.…” he cursed into the empty space, somewhat ashamed he considered working one out right then and there.  

Furiously, he typed: DON’T MOVE AN INCH. I’M ON MY WAY HOME.

He could instantly sense her in their apartment. Her body heat, her shallow panting, the way her scent permeated the air despite the scented candles she’d lit.

When he opened the door and tossed his jacket onto the couch, he could all but taste her.

“Althea…” he said her name devoutly.

“I…” she sucked in a breath, her voice quivering from inside his office. “I’ve been waiting…”

He pulled down his zipper, all but moaning when he finally got free of the rough material. Aly was poised at his desk, glasses on, legs crossed. Her panties were rumpled carelessly at the base of the desk. He could see the spot she’d soaked through from the doorway.

“I figured it’s been a while…” she pulled one strap of her dress over her shoulder, “since I wore lace for you… mi amor.”

His shirt got tangled with his elbows, his body automatically gravitating towards her until his thigh bumped the desk.

Aly laughed, placing her hands over his wrists, “Here, let me help you get free.”

“Please,” he begged, parking himself by her knees. “¡Maldita sea! Has hecho un desastre con mi escritorio... ¿No es así? ¡Puedo saborearte en el aire!”

Suddenly, Aly stopped untangling his shirt, her fingers tracing slow paths to his chest, circling his hard nipples. “You could lap it clean if you like…”

He turned wolfish. And even though she couldn’t see him grin, from the ungodly noise that escaped his throat, she was well aware he was all on board.

He ripped his shirt, freeing his hands, and then he was on his knees, prying her legs apart and drawing her flush to the edge of the desk. His suspicion had been correct. A thick ropey line traced an arc between her swollen clit and the pool of slick on his desk.

He closed his eyes as the scent grew several degrees more intense. He wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t end up seeing the back of his skull, how far back his eyes rolled as he stuck out his tongue and covered her cunt with his mouth.

His tongue was obscured from pushing past her entrance by the Ben Wa balls, but he discovered a new pro: he could bite down on the cord and pull, only slightly, denying her the stretch that she so eagerly wanted.

She fisted his hair, screaming “Yes! Fuck! Miguel… Oh, your tongue is so hot.” She egged him on, snaking her hips and digging her heels into his back.

He could barely breathe he was buried so deep, but god he wouldn’t have minded going out by suffocation. His cock jutted, reminding him he was still palpably hard. His veins dilated to bursting. His balls so full. So much of himself to give her. So much to fill her with. And not enough of the night.

As he started to rise to his feet, he kept his jaw clenched on the cord between her legs, inching out the balls from inside her. Her legs shook with each tug, her body turning to a ragdoll, limbs heavy and mewling noises too delicious to even consider keeping hushed.

The first ball was stubborn, but once it popped free, the second followed easily, pulling ropes of slick that had been unable to escape her.

No thought about it, he was back on his knees, drinking her up, lapping savagely until she begged him to make her cum. With vigour, he wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked feverishly as he plunged two fingers into her cunt and started to finger fuck her. Sloppy, wet, squelching, he had to cup his own tip to keep from spilling too much of himself on the floor. She had been devious. She deserved every drop. Every. Single. Drop.

“Miguel! Miguel! Miguel! Mig—” she gasped, her thighs pressing tightly around his ears till all he could hear was the thunder of her blood rushing through her veins as she came on his face.

Her ankles unlocked after a few breaths; his hearing still entranced with her heart. Struggling to keep his breathing even, he pulled free and readjusted their position.

 He slapped his cock onto her cunt, placing his hands under her knees, and locking her ankles together until her thighs formed a nice closing around his cock.

“My turn,” he said, biting back the urge to ram forward like a mindless animal and pleasure himself on her thighs, cock rubbing against her eager opening.

“All yours,” she mooned. “Every inch. Take everything! Give me every inch of you.”

Shit! He seized his thrusts, angling his tip to her entrance. “Whatever you desire!” And then he entered her.

“It’s okay, mi vida… just like that—Yes! Mmm, I know you can stretch a little more for me… just a bit more,” he couldn’t help but let the slick of his venom pass into her through the rough kiss. He hadn’t shaved in a while, his scruff prickly, causing Aly’s body to vibrate with laughter, bucking and writhing, her thighs and lower back working in opposition. She yearned to relax as he pressed himself deeper and deeper, but she was also ticklish, despite being ravished well and good by his deft tongue. He plunged farther into her mouth as he felt his cock grow warmer inside her divine wetness. “Fuuuuuuck. Aly… so slick—Hmmgh! God, just a little more. Almost… fully… inside… you. Hhnnggg, there… look at you, so pretty, so full…” he traced his palm to her belly, felt himself strain against her there, his cock fully sheathed, balls deep. He looked down at her face, giving her an appraising smirk, this impossible sensation of holding something coveted and all his… it made him leak cum into her undulating cunt, her walls clenching down with intent. “Taking everything inside you like the good girl you are, fuck. I’ve missed you.”

She raked her fingers through the silver of his hair, rubbing deliciously at the base of his skull. “You saw me at breakfast.”

He bit down on her neck, his venom slicking her skin, making her moan, her eyes rolling back, heavy-lidded. He took the opportunity to drive her dangerously close to the edge and rutted forward, anchoring his weight on the balls of his feet, causing the bed to creak in protest, the headboard knocking against the wall.

Aly gushed. And not just in the cute way the blush of her skin would kiss her collarbone, her thighs, her belly… Sno, it didn’t stop there. A torrent of warmth meandered out of her cunt as he pulled back, entranced by the scent of their sex. Driven to absolute madness by the copper taste of her on his lips. The sound of her moaning as he slammed forward, the tip of his cock sensitive and unguarded by his foreskin as it hit her walls with slip, and that tantalising resistance of her body still adjusting to his size.

“Don’t play coy, car amia,” he commanded, secretly hoping she’d refuse to listen. “I know how to unravel you like I was the very thing that wove you together. I know how to make you beg.”

She smiled, her hand reaching between their joined bodies to grasp his throbbing cock with a menacing grip.

“Don’t pretend as though I didn’t have you whimpering into my pillow the other morning,” she swallowed loudly, licking her lips as if ravished, as if she could practically taste his cock in that instant. She began to pump her hand against him. Long, slow, firm strokes that made him eke out a strangled groan. She sighed contentedly when the sound of her hand fucking him turned lewd, precum glistening on her palm. “It seems we both know how to play coy, I’m just a better brat.”

He bit down on his lip, the pillowcase tearing as his claws inched out. Control was beginning to become a suggestion.

“Then this is the point where I punish you, isn’t it?” he cocked a brow and she shuddered. Then he lifted her off the desk and sat himself in his large leather chair, never disconnecting them. “Too bad… looks like you’ll have to fuck me.”

Aly was speechless for a second, taken aback, pouting at the responsibility of having to be the power driver of their pleasure train. Lord knows her muscles weren’t up to the task, given his inhuman endurance. But watching her face go from bratty to shocked did make him swell with pride… and other parts.

She bit back a moan as she worked her legs through the chair’s armrests, planting her weight on her toes and circling her arms around his neck for leverage.

“I’m going to make you squirm, O’Hara…” she threatened.

“I’d like to see you tr—”

She slammed down onto his cock, making him gasp. Her whole body shook, slapping against his hard one.  

Maybe his endurance wasn’t so inhuman after all.

“You were saying?” she smirked, sucking on the shell of his ear.

He threaded his fingers through her curls, unruly and thick from the humid air in the room. Using his nose to paint a line from throat to ear, he whispered: “I love you.”

***

[if you loved this, there's more on my ao3! also, I live off validation/engagement! Come say hi!]

[schwarzenadler13]

Dwk brainrot part 2

Part 1:

Part 2:

first things first, they try to limit whatever damage there is as soon as they arrive in the quarry

(this involves blankets, towels and a change of clothes, which falls onto fabi because it's the only one whose clothes would fit)

(it's at this moment, fabi notices there's a big tattoo-like black marking covering leon's right side, some veins even look black; he's concerned but they don't manage to find what it is)

meanwhile lissi sends some biester to check if dwk have come up for a visit and they're unaware of it

they find nothing and neither do the surrounding gangs (in the books they're kinda genderbent!dwk and thus, they also have genderbent!frenemies)

still confused, fabi sends lara, yvette and kissi/bessi to the city because there are indeed visitors who may have more info

meanwhile leon is living a nightmare

(he's not kinda sure whether he's asleep or dead, just that it isn't reality...the latter option is winning though so he's on the verge of panicking)

(he starts unknowingly sleeptalking at some point; fabi tries to make sense of it but gives up and comes back with the biester who are debating whether they should take him to the hospital if he doesn't wake)

(fabi's own name gets brought up but when fabi looks, leon's eyes are still closed)

the nightmare comes to an end with the drowning incident, just with marlon as another spectator

he wakes up screaming

the scream alerts the biester so fabi and flifla run back to check on him

leon knows he isn't in the forest beyond the mist and that the clothes he's wearing aren't his...but the place doesn't seem unfamiliar

and if that wasn't confusing enough, now there's an redhaired girl he can't name but he's quite sure he should be able to

she's quickly joined by a blonde boy who leon finds particularly pretty, with freckles, clear eyes, curly ha--WAIT

"fabi?" but there's no way, is there? Fabi is in hamm with the bies-?

that's when both the place and the girl click in his head

now he's EXTREMELY confused because again there's no way, they are hundreds of kilometres away

he tries to get up but he's definitely in no condition to move much, so fabi kinda forces him to sit down again

(they both try to make sense of things, but there's literally no way to make sense of this without some supernatural force at play...and they are very weirded out by the possibility)

(+ probably some reassurance that he's not dead)

(fabi also brings up the marking which is definitely not a tattoo and that leon doesn't remember having...it doesn't hurt but it definitely is so strange it worries them)

bessi/kissi arrives with juli and felix who were just nearby (idk what felix role would be, he's...there)

both leon and fabi are glad to see juli (albeit for not exactly the same reasons) but juli reaches the same conclusion as they do, that there's no humanly possible way

("and here i was making fun of joschka for having plans against magical beings and then this happens, wtf?" juli isn't amused; neither are the others)

(there's probably an "enough thinking, now off to sleep" at some point)

there's a coyote at the quarry the next morning

"oh, so that's what she's seeking" "who said that?" and they look at the coyote who's grinning and they're like "no way"

the coyote turns into a woman leon is kinda familiar with (koyote karl-heinz)

(yup, she's a shapeshifter shaman, more on that later)

he's definitely not amused and really considering he's hallucinating (unfortunately it's real because he's not the only one seeing it)

she just smiles and says "well, now that the game has started, there's a story you need to know"

and until here, part 2 of 82837928283 because i have not really started... unfortunately

(stories always sound shorter when i daydream them, putting them into words takes a long, exhausting while 😭)

[the-iceni-bitch]

Ground Game

Pairing: boxer!Thor (hammer) x mma fighter!fem reader (legs)

Words: ~1.6k

Summary: Thor is so happy you started coming to his gym.

Warnings: explicit language, implied smut, lots of foreplay, meet cute, fighting as flirting, there’s gonna be smut in the future so no minors

A/N: Here is the promised meet cute for these two! I know it’s been a while since we visited them last but I really do love them. Will for sure be diving into the polyamory aspect of their relationship in later installments, so I hope y’all are ready for adding Steve and Carol to the mix, and maybe Bucky and Nat too. Everybody’s gonna be fucking everybody, it’s gonna be wild 😝

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!!

“I wouldn’t do it, Odinson.” Steve shook his head as he watched Thor gaze at you, helping him pull off his gloves after they finished their bout. “Nat’s crazy possessive over her clients.”

“Well Romanov isn’t here.” Thor grunted when you finished your stretching, licking his lips slowly when you stood up and strode towards the bags. “And I’m just gonna offer to hold the bag for her.”

“Okay, I’m not gonna hold Nat back once she finds out you flirted with another one, though.” Steve rolled his eyes when the other man prowled towards you, Nat was gonna kill him.

“Hey there, you want someone to keep that stable for you?” He shoved his hair out of his eyes and gave you a wide grin.

“Sure, that’d be great.” You smiled back at him softly, wrapping your knuckles and knocking them together as you rolled your neck a few times. “It’s Thor right?”

“It is! You a fan?” He stood behind the bag and braced it, grunting softly when you hit it harder than he was expecting.

“Not exactly, your face is plastered all over this place.” You nodded at one of the many posters that were hung on the wall of the gym. “I don’t have to call you ‘the hammer’ do I?”

“N- oof… no, of course not.” He didn’t know how long you had been training with Nat, but the way you were pounding the shit out of the bag was catching him a little off guard. “What should I call you?”

“Y/N.” You grinned when he winced softly at your next hit, his jaw clenching tight when you did a couple of rapid fire jabs before hooking your next punch and rocking his balance. “You ok there, hammer? Looking a little strained.”

“I’m good.” He was about to say more but then he spotted Nat strolling into the gym over your shoulder, an annoyed look on her face once she spotted him. “Shit.”

“Hey there, Thor, what’s going on?” The redhead cocked her head at him, smirking when he huffed again when you landed another solid blow to the bag. “Y/N’s not taking it too hard on you, is she?”

“No, we’re doing great.” He finally got used to how hard you were taking it on the bag, pressing his shoulder against it and firming his stance for when you jabbed again.

“Yeah, we’re having a great time.” You stopped your punching and turned to give her a grin, leaning on the bag. “Good and warmed up, ready for me to kick your ass?”

“We’ll see, I’m not all pussy drunk for you like pretty boy here.” She laughed at Thor’s spluttered protests, dodging when you threw a few playful punches at her while you chuckled. “Bye Odinson! Go take care of yourself in the showers!”

He grumbled to himself as he watched you head towards the ring, turning towards the locker room and scowling when he saw the shit eating grin Steve was giving him.

“That seems like it went great, Odinson.” Steve teased when the larger man strode past him, chucking his gloves in his bag before following after him with a deep laugh. “C’mon, Thor! You didn’t even ask her how her ground game was! Hey!” The asshole dodged the towel Thor chucked at his head with a snort.

Thor was surprised when you approached him the next day, giving him that soft smile that made his chest ache a little bit. And then you were asking him to hold the bag for you again, calling him hammer and making him grin right back at you as he propped the bag against his shoulder.

It became your little routine, he’d hold the bag for your warm up and the two of you would chat and flirt. Sometimes you’d hang around after you and Nat worked out together and watch him spar with Steve while you stretched.

Then there were the days you asked him to help you stretch out, wanting something a little deeper for your overworked muscles. Those were the days he had to make sure he was alone in the locker room, the sight of you stretched out underneath him being just a little too much for him to wait to take care of until he got home.

A few weeks of light flirting and barely contained innuendo and he was ready to burst. He couldn’t decide if you were just a massive tease or if he was too stupid to realize you weren’t actually interested.

“Hammer, hey!” You slapped the side of his head when he didn’t answer you. “I asked if you wanted to spar with me.”

“Now?” He grunted as he worked at wrapping his hands, gazing at you through his lashes. “What about Nat? She might not be too happy with me stealing you away.”

“It’s not stealing, it’s borrowing.” You teased, reaching your hands above your head and twisting your spine to loosen up. “She’s getting a little predictable, need a change, just for the day.”

“Fine.” He bit his lip and held up the ropes for you to crawl into the ring, groaning softly when he got a good look at your ass when you bent over. “I’m not going easy on you, though.”

“Good.” You bounced on your toes as you waited for him to join you. “Not gonna go easy on you either.”

He chuckled softly and shuffled forward, raising his fists and throwing a lazy punch that you dodged easily. You grinned when he gave a few more jabs that you ducked around, keeping your hands up in loose fists and laughing softly.

It was frustrating how quick you were, dodging his hits like it was nothing while you just grinned at him. You hadn’t even thrown a punch yet, but he was already starting to work up a sweat as he tightened his jaw and squared up.

The next hit he tried to land was a little rougher and almost caught you, but then you just turned it aside with a smirk and stepped inside his reach to land a soft smack to his unguarded cheek.

“C’mon hammer.” You teased him, dancing back out of his reach again with a laugh at his exasperated growl. “Thought you weren’t gonna go easy on me?”

“Oh hon… stop that.” He snarled when you managed to slap him again. “You really want me to give it to you?”

“I can fucking take it.” You licked your lips slowly and winked at him, feeling very excited about the feral look he was giving you.

He wasn’t entirely sure what happened. He’d been sure he was about to land a hit after 5 minutes of you dodging him and giving him a couple of half hearted jabs, and now he was pinned to the mat with your legs wrapped around his head.

“Fuck, I’m out!” He tapped the mat twice and you released him with a tiny huff. “Jesus, so, not just training with Nat?”

“Not exactly.” You leaned back against the ropes and beamed at him, watching him sit back up with a grumble. “She’s just helping me prep for my next fight.”

“Well, she’s doing great.” He winced a little when he stretched out his shoulder. “You wanna go again?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You nodded over his shoulder to where Steve and Nat were frowning at the two of you. “Think those two might kill us if I mess you up too bad. Though you do look great with my legs wrapped around your head.”

“That so?” He prowled towards you and gripped the ropes on either side of your hips, leaning close to you and growling softly when you bit your lip and rolled your shoulders teasingly. “Think they’d look pretty good wrapped around my waist, too.”

“Ya think?” You grabbed the band of his shorts and yanked him closer, running your nose over his throat as he let out a deep rumble from his chest. “You’re gonna have to catch me first.”

Thor gave a small surprised grunt when you gave him another playful slap before ducking out from under his arms as he huffed in frustration. His eyes were blown wide when he turned to face you, his head rolling on his shoulders as he stalked towards you and flexed his fists in anticipation.

It was only a couple of minutes, but he managed to get you pinned, or you let him pin you, he wasn’t going to think about it too hard. And damn, it really did feel amazing to have your legs wrapped around his hips. He ducked his head until his lips were brushing against yours, purring when you tangled your fingers in his hair and rolled your body into his.

“Alright, that’s enough.” You both spluttered when Nat poured a bottle of water over the two of you, shooting her dirty looks as you disconnected reluctantly. “No fucking in the ring during business hours.”

“Why are you always twat swatting me, Romanov?” You grumbled as you stood up, softening slightly when Thor wound an arm around your waist and nuzzled at your neck.

“Why are you always trying to get nasty in public?” She snorted and shook her head at the two of you. “Seriously, take that shit home.”

“Fine. What d’ya say, legs?” Thor grinned when you laughed at the nickname, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he skimmed his fingers over your waist. “I’ll buy you dinner first.”

But then you were wearing that short little fluttery skirt when he knocked on your front door two hours later, your legs bare and smooth and gorgeous and he was only hungry for one thing. And you were happy to indulge him.

[tannerpint779]

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Ali DiaPersonal informationDate of birth20 August 1965Place of birthDakar, SenegalHeight1.78 m (5 ft 10 in)Playing position(s)Striker16 more rows

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[beatricethecat2]

if/then (2.0) - 22

I seem incapable of accomplishing anything else over this holiday break until I post this chapter, so I’m releasing it into the wild. What I will say is it’s really nice to have Helena and Christina’s voices back in full force. I hope you enjoy them too! I watched several TV shows and youtube videos to try to get a better sense of the cadence of the Welsh dialect, I hope a did a decent job (the Michael Sheen/Jon Hamm video is priceless, btw). Edited 3/19/20. Links in the comments for previous chapters.

///////////////////////

"What's all this?"

Myka swings her head to the left, where a woman's appeared out of nowhere, her yellow raincoat glowing neon against the muted, damp backdrop.

"A bit of help here," Helena pleads, waving the woman closer. "Take Sondra's hand," she says to Myka.

Myka releases her hold but quickly grabs the car again, her footing too tenuous to reach confidently for Sondra's hand. Helena tightens her grip around Myka’s waist, and Myka tries again.

Sondra grabs Myka's forearm and throws all of her weight in, which can't be much, and pulls. Soon, one shoe emerges from the muck, then the other rises victoriously. Once Myka's on solid ground again, Helena levers herself back onto the crate.

“Ych a fi, Harry, you're filthy!" Sondra snips, as Helena turns to face her. "And your bloody head's bleeding. Here..." She fishes a tissue out of a jacket pocket and dabs it on the wound.

"It was an accident," Myka says, catching Sondra side-eyeing her.

"A minor topple," Helena adds, lifting a hand to hold the tissue. "What time is it?"

"We're late. But Owen'll manage," Sondra says, removing the blood-soaked tissue and replacing it with a fresh one. She fusses for a moment, but Helena shoos her away, grimacing as a child might over a mother's doting.

The intimacy in the exchange sends a bristle down Myka's spine. Who is this woman, and how closets she , exactly, to Helena?

"Burberry, isn't it? Such a shame." Sondra shakes her head, taking in Myka's rumpled state.

"Oh, crap," Myka says, looking down at her trench coat. She brushes at the greasy line around her waist, but instead it of coming off, the grease smears and stains her hands.

"Now those shoes, they might have a prayer—"

“Sondra, call Owen. Tell him we're running late!"

"I'll do it now, in a minute," Sondra says, waving a dismissive hand. She looks beyond Myka towards a workbench, then moves to snag a roll of paper towels. "That muck's not getting in my car."

"Call now, clean later."

“Aye, coach.” Sondra lobs the towels at Helena, seemingly aiming for her head.

Helena steps back to avoid being smacked in the face, but her boots slip and her arms flap like wings to retain her balance. The towels bump her chest and fall to the ground.

"Tidy that!" Sondra quips, her smirk fading as she pats down her jacket pockets. "Bugger me. Left my mobile in the car." She tromps towards the shed then disappears through the back door.

Myka stares at Helena bending down to pick up the paper towels. Her transformation's uncanny; she'd have barely recognized from a distance. Her coveralls swallow her entire frame, her hat hiding every hint of thick mane. Her grease-covered hands and reddened cheeks give the impression she's a teenage boy, not someone's mother. Had those dark eyes and rosy lips had not been burned into her memory, she might have questioned whether this figure was Helena at all.

"Your magnificent curls, where have they gone?" Helena says, rising, meeting Myka's gaze.

"That's the first thing you ask me? "

"It's a legitimate concern."

"What's under your hat?"

"I had reason for such butchery."

"Do you really hate it?" Myka draws out a strand and examines its straightened state.

"It's not that. It's merely not how I picture you."

"You either." Myka gestures at Helena's coveralls.

Helena glances down at her form. "This is standard attire for Harry Llewellyn."

“Well, I just met Harry Llewellyn, so how would I know?"

"Have you?"

"Have I what?"

"Only just met her."

"Yes!" Myka throws up her hands.

Helena's modest smirk hints at teasing, but the sentiment doesn't reach her eyes.

"Explain what you mean."

"Have you come here for her or for me?"

"For her, but I'm not sure why she's you." Then it dawns on Myka; Helena’s wary, she doesn’t know why she's here. "I have a..." She finds her bag, mercifully dumped on the concrete, not in the mud. She grabs the envelope and hands it to Helena. "I was in Cardiff for work when I got this."

Helena reads over the pages, her face a blank slate, but her shoulders drop ever so slightly.

"Does it make any sense?" Myka asks.

"Yes. The wheels are in motion."

"What wheels?"

"Not what, whose." Helena looks to the left and then the right as if someone might be lurking in the shadows. "Your being here means others will come. You're certain these are from work?"

“I-I just assumed. I've been redirected before—"

"Everything's under control!" Sondra booms as she reenters the yard. "The girls are running laps and the like until we arrive."

"Follow my lead," Helena whispers, stuffing the papers into her pocket.

"Excellent!" she proclaims in Sondra's direction. She passes Myka the paper towels and walks over to the shed, where she empties a bucket and unravels a coiled hose.

"I suggest removing your shoes and dunking them in here," Helena says, pointing to the bucket she's filling with water.

"What about yours?" Sondra adds, nodding at Helena's mud-caked boots.

"Hose them off." Helena releases the trigger and hands the hose to Sondra. "But at a safe distance.” She smiles humbly at Myka.

"Over by there," Sondra says, ticking her head towards the Rover.

Helena stops and stands by where she emerged from the mud. "Fire away."

"Twirl for me, love." Sondra steps back as mud flies everywhere. "Who's the bird?" she croaks, loudly, over the din of the streaming water.

"An old friend come to pay a visit," Helena answers.

"You haven't got any friends."

“I may have exaggerated that point.”

“Then you may have said she was coming.”

"It was a surprise," Myka interjects, flashing a half-smile at Sondra, who is looking at her judgmentally over her shoulder.

"Harry doesn't like surprises—"

"Oi, watch it!" Helena snaps, the hose wandering, splashing at her knees.

"You got a hire car then?" Sondra asks, ending the stream, turning to face Myka fully.

"I took the train."

"You need a lift?"

"I..." Myka looks toward Helena.

Helena nods.

"…do."

"Then let's be off. My trainers are in the car." Helena moves toward the back exit, but Sondra snags her coveralls, effectively stopping her in her tracks. "Those filthy dungarees are coming off, now."

"These filthy dungarees shall be shed by the car."

"She always been this stubborn, alleged old friend of Harry's?" Sondra asks Myka.

"Pretty much."

"Sondra, we're late," Helena whines, shaking free of Sondra's grip. She walks over to the workbench and reaches underneath, producing a roll of black plastic. "Bin bags, all right? I'll throw the grimy lot in the boot."

"Now, you're talking."

"Follow me," Helena says to Myka, pointing the roll towards the door and marching to the back of the lot.

------------------

"So who are you then?" Sondra asks as she turns on to a wider street.

"Bin bag, please," Helena quips, wrestling with her coveralls in the back seat.

Myka tears a bag off and hands it to Helena, still unsure how she convinced Sondra to let her change in the car. As she catches Helena's eye, Helena nods, which she interprets as "answer truthfully."

"I'm Myka. Myka Bering." Myka extends a hand in Sondra's direction.

"Sondra Chaudhry." Sondra reaches across the steering wheel and shakes Myka's hand.

"How do you know each other?" Myka asks before Sondra does the same. Better to be on the defensive until Helena's ready to intervene.

“The footy," Sondra answers, distracted as her phone dings in the cupholder, groaning defeatedly as she reads over a message. She taps the screen, then hands the device to Myka. "My daughter, Bethan, and Harry's Charlotte."

Myka looks at the photo on the lock screen. Two tweens pose in yellow and blue uniforms with smiles full of teeth, one of which she easily recognizes as Christina.

"Same to you, Myka Bering, how do you know our Harry—"

"All done!" Helena blurts, holding up the bag of soiled items and tossing it into the SUV's rear hold. "Charlotte will be thrilled to see you, Myka." Helena leans between the seats and gives Myka a "you know who I mean" look.

"Isn't it Charlie now?" Sondra quips.

"Charlie and Harry. That's kind of cute," Myka says.

“Do not encourage her,” Helena says, rolling her eyes.

"I won't if I see her."

"When you see her," Sondra says.

"Are we picking her up from school?" Myka asks.

"Football practice. Harry's the coach, don't you know?"

“Oh! That's why you called her ‘coach.'. I see…." Myka raises a brow in Helena's direction and Helena smirks knowingly.

"Don't know much about our Harry, do you?" Sondra questions.

"It's been quite some time since we've spoken," Helena answers.

"Yet here she is, at your doorstep. Funny that." Sondra pulls into a small parking lot and puts the car in park. She turns to Myka. "I'm off to run errands before the shops close. But I can drop you off on the way."

"I…um—"

"Come along and see Charlotte," Helena says.

"I'd love to," Myka says to Helena. "But, thanks for the offer," she says to Sondra. Stepping swiftly out of the car and out of Sondra's scrutiny, she scans the girls running in the distance, hoping to spot Christina.

"Thank god you're here," a man sputters, scuttling up to Helena. "The girls were mad worried."

"We've a tournament tomorrow, and our last practice was canceled due to rain," Helena explains, turning to wave goodbye as Sondra pulls away.

Myka turns and waves as well. Best to not offend anyone until she and Helena can talk.

"Nerves are on high, you see. Aren't they Owen?" Helena pats Owen on the back.

"I can hardly keep them in line, Harry." Owen hangs his head as the trio walk toward the field.

"Then allow me. Girls, get in formation!" Helena calls out as she jogs toward the pitch.

The girls scatter then snap into lines.

"Hi, I'm Myka," Myka says, extending a hand to Owen, obviously on her own with introductions in this alternate reality.

"Owen Williams, assistant coach," Owen says, straightening his slouch as he shakes Myka's hand.

"And He-Harry's head coach?"

"Brilliant, she is. First year we've been winning the locals. What it is, is, like, she's such an inspiration to those girls."

Willowy thin, no older than twenty, Owen's most likely a local lad. If Myka hadn't had a warm-up to the Welsh accent in Cardiff, she'd never have deciphered his rushed words.

Out of the corner of her eye, a figure rushes towards them, running so fast it nearly trips onto the pavement. Black curls bounce heavenward through a restrained ponytail as gangly limbs struggle to stay in sync. But the closer the figure gets, the more their identity is clear. The grin that spreads across Myka's face cannot be contained.

"Myka!" Christina yelps, extending her arms as she approaches.

"Hey, kiddo!" Myka crouches down and opens her arms wide. Christina slams into her, hard, and Myka takes a small step back. They sink into each other, pushing back slightly until each finds an equilibrium. The last time Myka saw Christina, they parted on bad terms. The warm greeting she's receiving is heavenly.

"I've missed you!" Christina says.

"I've missed you, too! Let me look at you." Myka holds Christina at arm's length; she's shot up in height, and her limbs have stretched out quite a bit. It's hardly possible, but she looks even more like a clone of Helena. "You're getting so big, I hardly recognized you." She pulls her back into a hug.

"I grew three inches!"

"I can tell! You're going to be taller than me someday."

"That's taller than mom!"

Myka stands, and Christina jumps up several times, previewing her future height. "You're staying to watch?"

"Yep! But is there somewhere to sit? Somewhere dry?"

"Maybe near the tennis courts?"

Christina grabs Myka's hand and weaves through parents camped out in folding chairs. Several nod hellos as she and Christina pass by.

"What happened to your hair?"

"It looks weird, huh?" Myka takes note: both Wells women have issues with her straightened hair.

"It looks pretty, but I liked it when it was curly, like mine."

"I like curly, too. But this is easier when I travel." Which is only half-true. She straightened it after the Luiza debacle when Abigail suggested she needed a change. She stuck with it because, truthfully, it felt like a disguise, one she needed to play her part. And while she could have changed it back after New Years, it was more comfortable to stay in character than face her real self.

"It's a little wet," Christina says, wiping the moisture off a bench with her forearm.

"That's good enough," Myka says. Her jacket's ruined anyway, so what's a little water?

"Mom said to tell you some things," Christina says, plopping down next to Myka. "We're from Canada. Toronto. Mom fixes cars. Fancy ones. Or she used to. Something bad happened with her boss, so we left reeeally fast."

"I see." A harrowing cover story for their actual, harrowing story. Quite clever. "How do I fit in?"

"You don't. Or didn't. Until now."

"Oh." Myka's heart sinks at having been left out, but then again, why would she have been included? What that means, though, is someone's purposefully tripping up their alibi, and they'll need to integrate her, fast. "So your mom told Sondra she and I were old friends. Did she say how we met?"

"Uh-uh."

"What do you think?"

Christina mulls this over. "A dating app?"

"I met your mom online?"

"Why not? People do all the time!"

"How would you know?"

"Myka, I'm ten now, and I live in the middle of nowhere. I’d die without the internet.”

"Oh, I think you'd survive." Myka shoulder-bumps Christina.

Christina giggles and bumps back.

"So if your mom and I used to date, wouldn't that complicate your cover story?"

"You wouldn't date mom if we lived in Toronto?" Christina's brow furrows.

"I'd date your mom anywhere, that's not the issue."

"You'd love us, no matter where we are, wouldn't you?" Fiction shifts into reality; the playfulness of a moment ago turning on a dime.

"Of course, I would." Myka throws an arm around Christina and hugs her close.

Christina wraps her arms around Myka and lays her head on her chest.

"Let's talk this through," Myka says, blinking back watery eyes. "You know more about what's going on than I do. Did I live in Toronto, too? What's the best plan?"

"You should be you, so you don't have to remember all the stuff I do."

"Is it hard, remembering everything?" Myka sweeps an errant curl from Christina's cheek.

"Sometimes."

"Then let's make this easy. When you lived in Toronto, I lived in New York. And now I live in LA."

"You do?" Christina's head pops up. "Do you like it?"

"I miss New York."

“Me too! And Aunt Claudia. And Dewy! Have you seen them?" Christina asks.

"She misses you like crazy. And Dewy's as cuddly as ever—"

"Charlotte, we're starting! Take to the field," Helena shouts, waving.

"I gotta go. How long are you here for?"

"A few days."

"Are you staying with us?"

"No. At an inn."

"Charlotte!"

"You should stay with us. You have to meet Mr. Bubbles.”

"Who?"

"My rabbit!"

A whistle blows and girls start running around the field.

"I gotta go," Christina says, hugging Myka again and running off toward the field.

Myka half-watches as the mock game unfolds, her head filled to the brim with questions. But a silly grin remains on her face stays for quite some time. Though circumstances are ridiculous, she’s overjoyed to be reunited with her two favorite people again.

-----------------------

Smushed in Sondra's back seat with two hyperactive ten-year-olds, Myka's surprised when their drive ends at her inn. The entire team seems to have followed to patronize the pub—one of two in the village—the font-of-knowledge that is Sondra proclaims. The sheer volume of parked cars nearly blocks the adjacent roadway. Parents and children settle into seats and booths, drinking pints and sodas, or "pop" as it's called here. Fish and chips are the meal of choice, with malt vinegar and salt replacing ketchup.

Christina wedges herself between Helena and Myka while Sondra and Bethan sit across from them on a picnic bench. A rotating cast others join in, asking questions about tomorrow's tournament or gossiping with Sondra. Myka's learns the town's abuzz as Christina's team qualified, for the first time ever, to play with other regional teams in Abergavenny. Helena further explains that six teams will play each other over the course of two Saturdays, and the two highest winning teams will play each other in the finals.

Surface-level conversation flows freely as the pints pile up, and Myka, thankfully, finds herself not talking much. But when Christina and Bethan scurry off to join their friends, the table quiets. Just then, Helena's phone rings.

"Sondra," Helena says, glancing down at her screen, "tell Myka how you came to live in this town while I take this." She taps to accept the call.

"There's not much to tell," Sondra says, swirling her beer.

"Oh, there's plenty," Helena prods, covering the mouthpiece momentarily.

"I'd love to hear it," Myka adds, as enthusiastically as possible, understanding Helena's prompt: keep Sondra talking while she's away.

Helena walks toward the road as Sondra launches into her backstory. She starts, unexpectedly, with her grandfather's arrival from India, and adds a brief monologue on India's independence from Britain. Next up: how her parents met and growing up in Cardiff, with each of her siblings making a cameo. How she met her husband takes considerable time unpack, as it's intertwined with affiliations from the Cardiff indie music scene.

Right around there, Myka's attention falters, as the names Sondra's dropping are unfamiliar to her. Plus, she has a husband, one she’s speaking about with affection, proof that she and Helena are only friends. She glances at Helena, who is frowning, heartily; the eminent news must be unfavorable.

"So your husband's a musician," Myka says, feigning interest in the conversation.

"That he is. Mostly a session musician now, off for weeks at the studio. Moved here three years ago, we did, so his mum could help with Bethan."

"Only three years? You seem to know everyone."

"David's mum's the Councilwoman. Everyone here knows her, and us, them. Like Rhys, over there, he's..."

As Sondra points out several adults and the roles they play in the town, Myka takes in the families around her, many beginning to leave as the light fades. It then occurs to her; Helena's very visible for someone meant to be in hiding. But working her way into the community, instead of shunning it, is a smart move. That way, if she gets hassled, someone will notice and step in. And someone will care for Christina on the fly.

"Alright?" Sondra asks as Helena returns to the table.

"All right. But I must spirit Myka away, just for a moment."

"I'll be here." Sondra's pint sloshes as she raises it, still half-full.

Myka follows Helena towards the inn.

"Room number?" Helena asks.

Myka slips the key out of her pocket. "Um, 'The Lion's Den?'"

"I'll inform Christina and meet you there."

Myka walks into the pub and weaves through tables toward the bar. As she ascends the stairs, she hears Helena not far behind, caught by a parent with a question. Helena answers quickly, then politely excuses herself, catching up with Myka as she slots the key in the lock. As the door opens, Helena hurries in.

Myka closes the door and swings around. Helena stands a pace away, staring.

"I can hardly believe you're here," Helena says in a hushed tone.

"Tell me what's going on," Myka says, stepping forward and taking hold of Helena's hands.

Helena looks down at their hands but doesn't offer an answer.

"Helena, talk." Myka laces their fingers together and tugs Helena closer.

"Say that again," Helena says. "Say my name."

"Helena." Myka leans far enough forward that her lips nearly touch Helena's ear. "Helena.” Released as an exultation, without a trace of false bitterness, repressed desires bubble up under her skin.

Helena's sharp intake of breath prompts a light kiss to her cheek, then another near the corner of her mouth. Helena turns to intercept, hands flying up to cup Myka's jaw, sliding back and tangling in Myka's hair. Myka's arms slip around Helena's waist, and her hands snake up, under Helena's jacket. Helena presses into Myka, and Myka reciprocates eagerly.

Helena guides Myka backwards as heated kisses build, until she's pinned to the door with a thunk. Her hands skim reverently over Myka shoulders and down the sides of her arms, slipping snugly, familiarly, around her hips. Helena groans as Myka's fingers rake up the length of her back then tuck under the cuff of her hat.

Desperate to comb through Helena's thick locks, Myka yanks the hat off, but instead of cascading dark silk, she's met with soft bristles. A quick brush upwards reveals thicker strands, but nowhere near as long as they should be. She breaks the kiss to see what's going on.

"Oh my god!"

"Quite a shock, I know." Helena runs a hand through her hair, a familiar gesture cut short by its truncated length.

"I, um…wow."

"Are you appalled?"

“No. No. It's fine. It's just…" Myka combs through Helena's near platinum locks; they're coarser than before but just as soft. "It's just not how I picture you."

"Touché," Helena replies. "Harry Lewellyn has quite the penchant for 90's fashion. Hence the tracksuit chic." She gestures down at her outfit.

"I thought it was for practice."

"Not strictly."

"I don't mind," Myka says, pulling Helena towards her, their lips fitting together as if carved for only that purpose. Myka moans as Helena gently presses her leg between Myka's thighs, a year's worth of yearning breaking free. This is what was meant to happen the minute they walked in this room, after all those stolen glances at the table—

Knock, knock.

Both women scramble away from the door.

"Who's there?" Helena says, holding fast to Myka's hand.

"Mom?" Christina's answers, in a tiny, hesitant voice.

“Darling." Helena rushes over, opening the door and guiding Christina in, one hand on her back.

"Sondra says we need to go soon," Christina explains.

Helena looks at Myka, eyes full of apology. Myka smiles, crookedly but warmly, conveying both understanding and a desire to continue, soon.

"We must talk. Sit, both of you." Helena gestures towards the bed.

Christina hops up, and Myka settles next to her.

"I may be paid a visit this evening by someone who's followed Myka here. Therefore, Christina will be staying at Bethan's and Myka, you must stay here at the inn."

"You shouldn't be alone, no matter what someone on the phone said," Myka says.

"Mom, that's dumb. Let Myka help," Christina adds.

"We're safer divided, where there are witnesses."

"But none for you?"

"There are cameras all over the house. Christina can access them."

"But, I can't."

"It's best you're not involved as of yet."

“But I am involved. I’m here!”

"Only to meet Angharad Lewellyn. That pretense stands until further notice."

"But you’re Angharad Lewellyn!"

"That's inconsequential."

"Ugh!" Myka throws up her hands.

"Mom, you're doing it again," Christina says.

"Doing what?"

"Saying things but not really saying them."

"Am I?"

"Yes," Myka grunts.

"My apologies." Helena sits, nestling herself between the headboard and Christina. "Do you recall what's in Leeds that's special?" she asks Christina.

"I do!" Christina bounces in her seat. "Can I tell Myka?"

"Yes, you may."

"Mom stole a painting and hid it," Christina says, with a hint of pride.

"Should she know that?" Myka asks.

"Christina and I harbor no secrets," Helena says, smiling as she brushes a strand of hair behind Christina's ear. Christina smiles back, beaming with love and trust.

"That's good, I guess?” While their reverence for each other is genuinely heartwarming, it's disconcerting being of the loop, though Myka knows her frustration is petty. "What's so important about this painting?

"L3057249 never made it to Germany," Helena explains.

"But you had it in the surveillance footage."

"That one was fake. Morgana and I were forced to smuggle the original elsewhere by Mrs. Frederic."

"Why?"

"Her own stab at drawing McPherson's misdemeanors out into the open. Interpol believes she's gone entirely rogue—"

Helena's phone dings.

"That'll be Sondra."

"I should go with you," Myka says as Helena rises from the bed.

"Tonight it's best if we're separated," Helena says, taking hold of Myka hands. "I ask that you please trust me."

"But what if they take you to find the painting tonight?"

"Morgana must be present as well. I won't go anywhere until they have her on hand."

"I still don't like it."

Helena leans forward and whispers into Myka's ear. “If we’re together, we will be distracted.“

Myka's stomach swoops at the prospect of being alone. "Ok. But only for tonight."

"I want to stay with Myka," Christina blurts.

"You're safer with Sondra."

"But, Mom…"

"We're both desperate to spend time with Myka, but we must maintain appearances. Were I to leave you with a stranger, it would look odd to our friends."

Christina thrusts out her bottom lip, her pout brandishing new levels of persuasion.

"And, I must finish repairing the Rover, as you very well know. That's reason enough for a sleepover."

“But, Mom...”

Helena glances at Myka. "A little help, please?"

Myka crouches down to Christina's level. "I think your mom's right."

"You're on her side now?"

"No. But your mom knows more than we do. And I trust her." Myka stands and takes hold of Helena's hand.

Helena squeezes it as Christina's features downturn.

"We'll spend tomorrow together, ok?" Myka says.

"You're coming with us?" Christina's eyes light up.

"I thought I was?"

"You are," Helena says. "Nine AM sharp, outside the inn. But be warned, scores pre-teens on a mini-bus, not the most pleasant transport."

"I'll be ready." Myka smiles at an appeased-for-now looking Christina.

"Until tomorrow," Helena says, kissing Myka on the cheek. And, for a split second, it's as if Helena's off to work, like a normal day in their old life.

Helena swipes her hat off the floor and slips it over her shorter, lighter hair. She then positions herself across from Myka, next to Christina.

"Be careful," Myka says.

"I shall."

"You know where I am if you need me. Both of you. Do you have my number?"

"We do," Helena says. She lays a hand on Christina's shoulder. "We should get going."

"You probably should."

But instead of parting, they stand staring, as if a spell's rendered them immovable.

"Myka should come down with us," Christina says.

"And say goodbye to Sondra, yes," Helena adds.

"Excellent idea," Myka says, grabbing her keys, pulling the door shut behind them.

-TBC-

[yellowmagicalgirl]

Juliet Dies in This Chapter Two: Anger

Chapter Summary: There’s nothing quite like losing a child.

Guess who’s not old enough to serve on a city council or lose a teenage daughter?

Yeah, sorry for the inaccuracy.

AO3

FFN

Arcadia Oaks had been invaded by members of another species. Members of the same species had also fought to save their town, and for that its citizens were thankful. But thankfulness wasn’t all it would take to rebuild a town. It would take work, and it would take funding.

Unfortunately, the budget had been decided months ago. That had been a debate that had caused enough stress to Ophelia without the argument she had had with her daughter over something now pointless.

The budget included a rainy-day fund, for any of the usual odd developments that came with not knowing that trolls had been living underneath the town since before California was a state. However, it didn’t account for extent of the damage the Gumm-Gumms had done. If it had just been a freak tornado combined with an earthquake, then they could petition for aid from the state. However, orchestrating a cover-up so the federal government wouldn’t try to hunt down the surviving trolls meant that no one outside Arcadia Oaks could help.

That was why, as Arcadia Oaks was still waking up to a changed town, the city council was having an emergency meeting. A meeting that had only started in an official sense, since the past hour and a half had been devoted to bickering over things that should have been already decided.

“Most of the trolls are gone now, the ones left could just hide like they had been. It’d be easier with help from the state,” Councilman Hammes said. Ophelia was thankful that he was up for reelection; hopefully his replacement would be easier to deal with.

“Their home was destroyed,” Ophelia clarified. “And even if every troll had left Arcadia, it’s the canals that would need to be rebuilt. Anyone from the state will look too closely and find an underground township made of crystals and crafted for people much bigger than your average human.”

“Are we sure that we should cover this up?” Councilwoman Rhodes asked. She didn’t wear any jewelry other than her wedding ring and a pair of small gold-plated hoop earrings, but if she wore pearls Ophelia got the feeling Rhodes would be clutching them. It was at times like these that Ophelia wished that the city council wasn’t a continuous body, because Rhodes still had two more years. “The trolls attacked us once.” She sniffed daintily. “What’s to stop them from attacking us again? Or what about some other town?”

“I think I saw some kids running around in armor,” Councilwoman Tolbert said with a barely-disguised yawn. A half-finished espresso sat next to her phone. “Maybe some of them are still around?”

As Hammes complained about how they shouldn’t rely on cosplaying kids to protect them, Ophelia contemplated on whether or not everyone was starting to raise their voices a bit more. No, they weren’t. The fan was louder now, and so was Rhodes tapping her French-tipped nails on the desk. Everything was so much louder.

Ophelia got the feeling that when she got home, she should call Dr. Ferrara to see if he still took her insurance. Then again, she got the feeling that no amount of therapy would be able to fill the hole that Claire had taken with her.

“We’re just going to need to make some sacrifices,” Tolbert said. Ophelia realized that she had zoned out. She glanced at the clock. It had only been for a minute and a half, and that wasn’t enough time for the conversation to get anywhere.

“We’ve already made sacrifices,” Hammes said. “Some of us more than others. I’m pretty sure it’s been trolls destroying my yard for the past couple weeks.”

Ophelia didn’t realize that she had risen to her feet until she was staring down the rest of the council. “Trust me, our sacrifices are nothing. My daughter was one of those ‘kids running around in armor,’ as you so eloquently put it. Except for the fact that she had her armor for only a couple days, and she and her friends have been protecting Arcadia and Trollmarket from killer trolls for half a year.

“And now? Now she’s dead, and the reason why the sun rose today is because she sacrificed herself. So maybe, before any of you start complaining about the little things you’ve sacrificed, remember that humans and trolls have made sacrifices for both of our societies, and that we should respect those sacrifices.”

She had believed in her daughter too late. She wouldn’t stop now.

Nine hours.

Nine hours with one half hour lunch break. That was how long it took for the budget to be revised. Had she not had her outburst about Claire, it may have taken longer, or worse, the revision may have been scrapped and the world would find out about trolls.

“How is he?” Ophelia asked, after kissing her husband on the cheek.

“Asleep,” Javier replied. “Enrique bit me a couple times. He’s probably teething. He… he keeps looking around and asking ‘where?’”

Enrique wouldn’t remember his sister. He would grow up, hearing stories about her, but he would be essentially an only child in all the ways it mattered.

“NotEnrique,” Javier said as pulled out the ingredients he needed for the chorizo. “Do you think we should –”

“No.” Ophelia had already had a yelling match with the small troll over just whose fault Claire’s death was. “We’re not adopting him.”

“I’m not saying we should, just that having him around might help Enrique cope.”

As if on cue, a wail broke out from upstairs. “I’ll get him,” Ophelia said, leaving her husband to make dinner.

As she paced into the room, she glanced at the photo of Claire holding him as a newborn. Would it be better to just take it down?

She picked up her son and immediately felt hard gums on her hand. She hissed in pain; perhaps having NotEnrique around wouldn’t be so bad. Stone skin would be more durable against biting, at least. She went to get a soft washcloth to wipe off the saliva from his face. It had helped back when Claire was teething, all those years ago.

When Enrique was happy again and playing with a stuffed owl – the rabbit had gone missing – Ophelia went to grab another washcloth. She took it downstairs, intent on wetting it and putting it in the fridge. It would be cool and soothing on his gums.

She made sure not to look at the closed door to her daughter’s room.

“Fudgeknuckle,” her husband said, before burying his face in one of his hands.

“What’s wrong?”

“I made too much.”

“It’s okay, we can just have leftovers.”

“I made enough for three people. Three people exactly.” Ophelia held her husband as he sobbed.

“I thought she was at school, earlier today,” Javier said, turning back to the chorizo. “How’s Enrique?”

“Definitely teething.” Ophelia placed the towel in the fridge.

“Are you going to have to work on the budget, tomorrow?”

“No, we managed to get it done today.”

Javier began to place the chorizo on plates. The doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” Ophelia said.

She opened the door. On her porch stood Dr. Lake, clutching a purple bundle of cloth. Had the bundle contained an infant, Ophelia would have slammed the door in her face. She wouldn’t replace her child with another one.

“I found this in Jim’s room,” Barbara said, unfolding the bundle to reveal a familiar bolero. “Claire must have left it there when she and Toby changed into their armor. I thought you might want it.”

Ophelia willed her fingers not to tremble as she took the bolero. It was just a jacket; it wasn’t a piece of her deceased daughter coming home. It wasn’t a symbol of every argument she had with her daughter coming back to haunt her. It was just a jacket that she held tightly to her chest.

She wanted to yell. She wanted to yell, and scream, and blame Dr. Lake for raising her son in such a way that he roped Claire into a life of fighting trolls.

She was very tired. Tired of fighting, tired in general as a woman who raised a child for sixteen years only to lose her to a war older than her.

“Do you want to come inside?”

[angomay]

[ID: A tweet from @/hamms_man (Hamms Man) that reads, “What are you grabbing out of the garage fridge.” Attached is a photo of a white fridge in a garage, sitting next to a shelf with paint cans, a dolly, etc. Several things are stacked on top of it, including paper towels, tissues, and a cardboard box. End ID]

[ahouseoflies]

The Best Films of 2018, Part I

I’ll associate my moviegoing this year with two things: subscription models and superhero films. Realizing that I was the target audience, I signed up for Moviepass in March, then canceled just before they started extorting people in July. (I’ll remember you all semi-fondly, conniving alarmists in the Moviepass Reddit thread.) Thanks to Moviepass, I took full advantage of my free time over the summer, and I found some nice surprises that I wouldn’t have checked out otherwise. From there I joined AMC A-List, which is the rare corporate service that I cannot complain about in any way. Moviepass always felt like some kind of drug deal, whereas A-List is as easy and inviting an experience as possible. I get to seek out Dolby, IMAX, or 3-D showings instead of getting locked out of them, and the electronic ticketing helps with my last-minute availability. (I’ve mastered the art of lovingly putting my daughter to bed, only to desert her and my wife five minutes later. “You know, there’s an 8:10 showing of The Predator, which means 8:30 after previews...”) My overall viewing was up 11% this year, which I have to attribute to these subscriptions. Perhaps I saw too much though. After a self-righteous five-year ban on superhero movies, I caught up in 2019 like the madman completist that I am. On the plus side, I enjoyed Wonder Woman and Guardians of the Galaxy, and I vaguely feel more connected with the culture-at-large. But I could have been more selective. The diligence required to watch X-Men: Apocalypse late on a Thursday night took away from, say, my Orson Welles project or...reading books. To get some of the business out of the way, I haven’t seen Burning, Shoplifters, Destroyer, Cold War, The Sisters Brothers, Tomb Raider, The Wife, or The House That Jack Built. Not all of us get screeners or care about seeing The Wife.  Mostly for argument purposes, I list everything I saw and divide the movies into the categories of Garbage, Admirable Failures, Endearing Curiosities with Big Flaws, Pretty Good Movies, Good Movies, Great Movies, and Instant Classics. Hey, speaking of superheroes:  GARBAGE

123. Venom (Ruben Fleischer)- Venom was first announced as an R-rated film until it was neutered into PG-13 at some point in the development road. That was the right choice because this is a movie, in all of its broad, careless storytelling, for children. "So he's going to get married to her but then he looks at her email and then he interviews the guy and he gets fired so then she leaves him and he drinks now?" This is a dummy's version of what a journalist is or what a scientist is, and it never shades into more subtlety than exactly what is on the expected surface. I guess that Tom Hardy gets to jump into a lobster tank if that floats your boat, but the story is stuck on fast-forward for the whole movie, never relenting to develop character or do anything other than communicate information that we don't really need.

Venom is almost--almost--interesting as a new branch in the superhero economy. Why shouldn't Tom Hardy and National Treasure Michelle Williams trade the equity they've built for caring about their work into this trash? I don't begrudge them that for a second. I hope they make more money for the sloppy sequels. 122. The Equalizer 2 (Antoine Fuqua)- The first Equalizer was flat and pointlessly long with pedantic dialogue too, but at least it had the Home Depot sequence. This one makes very basic stuff incoherent and dawdles all the way to the end. Your boy is now an expert hacker too? I guess it's too late for Fuqua to start caring about scripts.

121. Mandy (Panos Cosmatos)- I need somebody to explain to me why, dramatically, this is good without something like, "It's so metal! What a midnight movie! Chainsaw fight lol!" If you want to talk about the visuals that are stylized within an inch of reality, then I'll listen. But there's nothing to hold onto dramatically. I think I've developed an overall irritation with revenge films, but this filthy dirge of a movie felt empty and endless by any standard. 120. Fifty Shades Freed (James Foley)- Its intentions are too guileless to upset me, but Fifty Shades Freed uses up the goodwill I sort of had for the first two by tugging the viewer relentlessly through conflict that always seems temporary. Part of the fun has always been how bizarre basic human interactions seem in this universe. (Has anyone ever returned from a vacation to be surprise-promoted?) But this entry expects way too much from its viewer's loyalty. 119. On Chesil Beach (Dominic Cooke)- There's supposed to be a disconnect to the behavior of the couple in On Chesil Beach, a movie that asks us to harken back to a time when newlyweds were so sexually innocent that they had trouble figuring out how to consummate a marriage. Their fumbling seems foreign to us, which is the point. But what's the excuse for none of the behavior in the movie ringing true to any human experience?

I'm talking about Florence refusing to tell her string quartet that she's engaged because she thinks they'll assume that her marriage will break up the group even though she's sure that it won't. I'm talking about her father, who feels the need to humiliate his son-in-law in tennis because that would prove that he's dominant over the boy in some way that being his employer does not already prove. I'm talking about a plot that literally would not exist if the characters had just engaged in one conversation that it seems like they would have had in the flashbacks, which frame them as a kind of open, reasonably affectionate, easy-going couple. But by all means, McEwan, change that whenever it suits you. 118. Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom (J.A. Bayona)- I reject the whole premise of this deliberate lowering of stakes that never rises above obligation. To paraphrase a Griffin Newman joke, it makes Jurassic Park 4 look like Jurassic Park 1.

While we're here though: Can I have a movie about the guy who compiled the guest list for the dino auction? I want to see a guy looking at a spreadsheet--or is it an Access file?--and getting to, like, Mark Cuban and weighing the options: "He probably has the $27 million to spare on weaponized recombinant DNA. He would definitely appreciate the wow factor of having his own Indoraptor. But is he more of a neutral evil or a chaotic evil? I guess I'll reserve a seat for him and send the invitation. If he says no, then he says no. Okay, we're still in the C's..."

117. Tag (Jeff Tomsic)- Tag is going to show up on a lot of "worst movies to ever win an Oscar" lists when Jeremy Renner wins an Oscar for it. 116. A-X-L (Oliver Daly)- This is a melodramatic movie about a weaponized robotic dog and the dirtbike kid who befriends it. Nothing wrong with that; a ten-year-old boy might like it, and there aren't enough movies specifically for that audience. But what's weird is how nonchalant the main character is about the whole thing. He immediately starts training this one-of-a-kind "war dog" android and imprints it with his DNA like this is a regular Tuesday. It's one of many things that is just kind of off in this picture.

This being a cheap genre film, you do get treated to those L.A. locations that have been around the block. I think the nondescript complex that houses Craine Industries is also the one from Sneakers and The Lawnmower Man. You know, Craine Industries, the company that is working on a $70 million prototype for the military but, because this is a cheap genre film, seems to have two employees.

I do think there's an interesting movie to be made about motocross. The movie kind of works when it's just about an underdog father and son fixing bikes, before it gets into all of the robot stuff. ADMIRABLE FAILURES

115. The Little Stranger (Lenny Abrahamson)- Dr. Faraday: "Wanna marry me?" Caroline: "Maybe. Do you actually love me?" Dr. Faraday: "Probably not." Caroline: "Hmm, I think I would marry you only as an excuse to go to London to get away from my dying mother and this crumbling house that probably has a ghost." Dr. Faraday: "Oh. Well, glad we're discussing it now because I want to marry you specifically to give me a reason to stay in this crumbling house that probably has a ghost. I'm drawn to it for some reason." Caroline: "Is it because you grew up poor?" Dr. Faraday: "Yes. All dry, cold British stuff ultimately comes down to that.

114. Damsel (David Zellner and Nathan Zellner)- Had I done my research, I wouldn't have watched this Zellner Brothers follow-up to Kumiko the Treasure Hunter, one of my least favorite films of that year. Like that movie, Damsel is a story of two halves, punctuated by a shocking moment that happens halfway through. Unfortunately nothing interesting happens before, and nothing interesting happens after. 113. Suspiria (Luca Guadignino)- This is a movie about duality that gets extended. English, German, and just a sprinkle of French. Six parts and an epilogue. A dual role (and a bit part). Personalities that clash until one pulls ahead. There are ideas here. But, especially considering I don't like the original Suspiria, I didn't find much to hold onto as a visceral experience. It's a long, foreboding sit. Guadagnino knows how to end his movies, but he still doesn't have much to say for the long middle parts. Shout-out to Amazon; I hope that, in some circuitous way, betting on maximalist Italians helps them to sell paper towels or whatever.

112. Early Man (Nick Park)- I still love the Aardman aesthetic, but this material was thin. It's too juvenile for adults and too adult for juveniles. 111. Beirut (Brad Anderson)- The screenplay takes an hour to set up what should have taken twenty minutes. Some of that time is dedicated to developing Hamm's burnt-out alcoholic wheeler-dealer, but he's a character we've seen a hundred times before anyway. Some shorthand would have done some good. Once the plot gets going, it's serviceable, but I was bored by that point. Pike and Hamm need to fire their managers. 110. Upgrade (Leigh Whannell)- I'll admit that I owed the film more attention than I gave it since I was nodding off the whole time, but nothing in the gloomy programmer interested me enough to want to go back.

109. Red Sparrow (Francis Lawrence)- Good as a steamy blank check provocation from the director and star--not much else. I'm sure people will take down the easy target of Jen Larry's Russian accent, but they're ignoring just how much she tries in something like this. She is a gargantuan Movie Star who commands the screen, and a lot of that presence comes from the commitment of, say, learning how to ballet dance for what must have been months. She hasn't slept through a performance yet.

I didn't think this endless movie made much sense, especially near its conclusion. Perhaps it's my personal distaste for the way that spy movies introduce major plot points without so much as a music sting to guide you. As soon as anyone says the term "double agent," my brain turns off.

108. Hot Summer Nights (Elijah Bynum)- If you want to direct a music video, just direct a music video. I like all of the actors in this, but the filmmaker has nothing to say. 107. The First Purge (Gerard McMurray)- Even James DeMonaco seems to be admitting that the bloom is off the rose a bit, since he only wrote this entry in the franchise--and his direction is missed in the action scenes. Just enough of the political subtext remains, (The New Founding Fathers get funding from the NRA, and a character uses "pussy-grabbing" as an insult. Thankfully, a Black church getting shot up by men with Iron Cross flags happens off-screen.)

But there are more characters I didn't care about than characters I did care about. Since its prequel setting doesn't reveal much about the world that we didn't already know, the film needed to do a bit more with the survive-the-night scenario that we already saw in the second film.

106. Vox Lux (Brady Corbet)- A movie that, up to and including the last minute, keeps promising something better than it actually is. Everyone here is making...choices… 105. Madeline’s Madeline (Josephine Decker)- I'm glad David Ehrlich liked this as much as he did. There are some intriguing ideas, most notably the suggestion that a mentally unstable person would be better suited for acting than a healthy person. What a debut for Helena Howard as well. But for it to add up to something by the end, I think I needed it to have more dramatic structure--the sort of fall of the Molly Parker character feels invented and insincere--or go all the way into experiment. 104. Shirkers (Sandi Tan)- One of those "you won't believe what happens next" documentaries that positions itself as an example of truth being stranger than fiction. But removed from a festival context, does it ever rise above its logline? Is it really even that odd?

[wazafam]

Mark Grayson is an average 17-year-old, except for the fact that he is half-alien, and his dad is one of the most famous superheroes in the world. His average life is turned upside down when he finally gets superpowers of his own, but as the saying goes - with great power comes great responsibility.

RELATED: 5 Prime Originals We're Looking Forward To In 2020 (& 5 We're Not)

Based on a comic series penned by the brilliant and imaginative creator of The Walking Dead, Robert Kirkman, Amazon Prime's hit animated series Invincible is not only chock full of action-packed fun, but it features a broad array of famous guest stars including Jon Hamm, Seth Rogen, Mahershala Ali, Clancy Brown, and Ezra Miller. The main cast is just as star-studded with familiar and beloved voice actors, many of them a nod to other superhero franchises as well as The Walking Dead.

10 Sandra Oh (Debbie Grayson)

Sandra Oh is a Canadian-American actress best known for her portrayal of Cristina Yang in Grey's Anatomy. More recently, she stars as Eve Polastri, a security services operative that gets caught up in the tangled web of a unique cat and mouse game with an assassin in Killing Eve.

Oh takes on the role of Debbie Grayson, a firm but loving wife and mother. She often serves as a rock for her family when things fall apart. She doesn't have superpowers, but she does have good advice and kind words for her husband and her son.

9 Steven Yeun (Mark Grayson/Invincible)

Steven Yeun's first, major claim to fame was from his work as the lovable and brave Glenn Rhee on AMC's The Walking Dead. Since he met his fateful end at the hands of Negan, Yeun has been busy. He can be found voicing in Voltron, appearing in Sorry To Bother You, and he recently made Academy Award history with his Best Actor nomination for his role in Minari.

RELATED: Steven Yeun's 10 Best Roles Outside The Walking Dead, Ranked (According To IMDb)

Yeun plays Mark Grayson, an average high schooler who desperately wants to be a hero like his father. When he gets his wish, he realizes that the life of a hero is not as simple as he thought it would be.

8 Zazie Beetz (Amber Bennett)

Playing Domino in Deadpool 2, and Sophie Dumond in Joker, Zazie Beetz is not a stranger to comic book adaptations. Outside of the superhero world, Beetz has also worked with Donald Glover on his hit series, Atlanta.

Amber Bennet is a headstrong, young high schooler who doesn't need anyone to take care of her...but she finds it kind of cute when Mark makes an effort. Amber is Mark's friend and love interest, though currently, their relationship is strained because of his superhero work and his friendship with Atom Eve.

7 J.K. Simmons (Nolan Grayson/Omni-Man)

J.K. Simmons has also been an important part of the superhero universe. He expertly brought J.J. Jameson to life, the fast-talking editor-in-chief of the Daily Bugle in both the Marvel Cinematic Universe and in the Sam Raimi Spiderman franchise. An Oscar-winning actor for his work in Whiplash, Simmons has also been in Oscar-nominated films such as Juno and La La Land.

RELATED: J.K. Simmons' 10 Most Memorable Roles, Ranked (According to IMDb)

Nolan Grayson is Mark's father, also known as Omni-Man, one of the most famous superheroes in the world. He protects the innocent and upholds justice...or does he?

6 Andrew Rannells (William Clockwell)

Andrew Rannells is a man of many talents whose work has spanned from Broadway to film to television. He has voice acted in various popular animated series such as Big Mouth, Yu-Gi-Oh, and Pokemon. He also played a recurring role in HBO's Girls, and led Trey Parker and Matt Stone's comic musical, The Book Of Mormon.

William is one of Mark's high school friends who tries to keep him out of trouble, but with Mark's new super-powered life, he's bitten off a bit more than he can chew.

5 Zachary Quinto (Robot)

Zachary Quinto is a talented actor who first began to receive notice from his sinister portrayal of the superpowered villain, Sylar, in NBC's Heroes. He has gone on to helm the incredible role of Spock in JJ Abram's Star Trek franchise and has also had recurring roles in American Horror Story.

Quinto lends his voice to the character of "Robot" in six episodes of Invincible season one. After the Guardians meet their demise in the first episode, a new band of superheroes must be created, and Robot is ready to help form a team.

4 Mark Hamill (Art Rosebaum)

Mark  Hamill will always be Luke Skywalker to Star Wars fans young and old, but his experience spans far outside that galaxy far, far away. Mark Hamill first voiced the Joker in the early 90s and continued to play the chaotic Batman villain for 19 years. Hamill hasn't thrown in the towel for voice acting.

RELATED: 10 Of Mark Hamill's Most Iconic Roles (Outside Of Star Wars)

He recently voiced the killer doll, Chucky, in the popular horror reboot, and also had a role in The Dark Crystals: Age Of Resistance. Art Rosebaum is the Edna Mode of Invincible. He is the man that superheroes go to for their costume needs, and he is more than happy to find the perfect one for Mark.

3 Gillian Jacobs (Samantha Eve Wilkins/Atom Eve)

Gillian Jacobs has had starring roles in Community and Love, as well as a recurring role as Mimi-Rose Howard in HBO's Girls. Prior to that, she showed off her voice-acting chops in the Monsters vs. Aliens animated series.

Jacobs takes flight in Invincible as the amazing Atom Eve, a fellow high schooler and a part-time superhero. Friends and partners in world-saving, Eve catches Mark's eye, but her tumultuous relationship with Rex Sloan keeps a potential romance out of arm's reach.

2 Jason Mantzoukas (Rex Splode/Rex Sloan)

Known for playing loud, brash, and politically incorrect characters, Jason Mantzoukas is a big name in comedy. He has been featured in live-action television series including The Good Place, Brooklynn Nine-Nine, Parks and Recreation, and The League. He can currently be heard as the voice of Jay in Netflix's adult animated series, Big Mouth. 

True to his name, Rex Splode has the ability to make objects explode with just his touch. Cocky and a bit of a playboy, Rex gets himself into hot water with his big mouth, and when his girlfriend catches him in a compromising situation with another super.

1 The Walking Dead Cast (Various Superheroes)

Robert Kirkman wrote the graphic novels for The Walking Dead and later helped bring the series to life on television. He is doing it once again with his dark yet hopeful superhero series, Invincible.  The cast of AMC's hit, dystopian drama is clearly near and dear to his heart, because many of them are featured in his new show.

Fans of The Walking Dead should listen carefully when watching because guest stars include The Walking Dead alums such as Khary Payton, Lauren Cohan, Ross Marquand, Lennie James, Chad L. Coleman, Sonequa Martin-Green, and Michael and Cudlitz.

NEXT: The Walking Dead: Top 10 Celebrity Guests On AMC's Ride With Norman Reedus

Invincible: Where You Know The Voice Actors From | ScreenRant from https://ift.tt/39JWapv

[grannyandgrandpascreations]

Hamm's Bear for President Bodysuit Onesies®

Hamms Bear For President Onesies® a perfect Baby Gift, Shower Gift for the family that is a Hamms Beer Fan! Nothing matters more than a baby's comfort, and this one piece is the right choice for all active babies. The envelope neckline and three snap leg closure ensure comfort throughout the day.

These gender neutral Gerber brand Onesies® are incredibly comfy! Both the bodysuits and t-shirts are printed on 100% cotton for a super soft feel. These unisex baby bodysuits are great to use as a take home outfit, baby shower gift or everyday attire!

All items are created or designed by Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations. We also print and heat press our items using our professional, commercial grade heat press! Each design is made with High Quality, Heat Transfer Vinyl. All of our bodysuits and t-shirts are made to order in a smoke free and pet free home. We only print on genuine Gerber Onesies® and Children’s Place. Gerber Children’s Wear holds the trademark for the word “Onesie®”. The term “Onesie®” is to reference the Gerber label and to describe the genuine Gerber Children’s wear products we use at Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations.

Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Tumble dry low.

Please also know that although every effort is made to photograph my items accurately, color may differ slightly from photos due to different monitor settings. Please contact me with any questions about the color or size of any item before purchasing. Have something in mind that you’re looking for? I love custom orders! I can make custom changes to all existing designs that are currently available in my shop. Please send me a message, and I’ll be happy to help!

After a package leaves my hands with the post office, Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations is not held responsible. Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you so much for supporting our "small Granny & Grandpa's Shop", we truly appreciate YOU! Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop to view more of our creations!

Due to different picture lighting settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com to view more products.

LET’S GET SOCIAL & BE FRIENDS! Like, Tag & Follow us for Our new Creations, Inspiration & Giveaways!

website/ www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop

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#grannygrandpascustomcreations

Hamms Bear For President Onesies® a perfect Baby Gift, Shower Gift for the family that is a Hamms Beer Fan! Nothing matters more than a baby's comfort, and this one piece is the right choice for all active babies. The envelope neckline and three snap leg closure ensure comfort throughout the day. Make sure to check out our Adult, Toddler and Youth Polish T-Shirts as they would make a great family picture! Oh, don't forget to check out our kitchen towel and oven mitt too!

These gender neutral Gerber brand Onesies® are incredibly comfy! Both the bodysuits and t-shirts are printed on 100% cotton for a super soft feel. These unisex baby bodysuits are great to use as a take home outfit, baby shower gift or everyday attire!

All items are created or designed by Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations. We also print and heat press our items using our professional, commercial grade heat press! Each design is made with High Quality, Heat Transfer Vinyl. All of our bodysuits and t-shirts are made to order in a smoke free and pet free home. We only print on genuine Gerber Onesies® and Children’s Place. Gerber Children’s Wear holds the trademark for the word “Onesie®”. The term “Onesie®” is to reference the Gerber label and to describe the genuine Gerber Children’s wear products we use at Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations.

Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Tumble dry low.

Please also know that although every effort is made to photograph my items accurately, color may differ slightly from photos due to different monitor settings. Please contact me with any questions about the color or size of any item before purchasing. Have something in mind that you’re looking for? I love custom orders! I can make custom changes to all existing designs that are currently available in my shop. Please send me a message, and I’ll be happy to help!

After a package leaves my hands with the post office, Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations is not held responsible. Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you so much for supporting our "small Granny & Grandpa's Shop", we truly appreciate YOU! Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop to view more of our creations!

Due to different picture lighting settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com to view more products.

LET’S GET SOCIAL & BE FRIENDS! Like, Tag & Follow us for Our new Creations, Inspiration & Giveaways!

website/ www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop

facebook.com/ https://www.facebook.com/GrandpaHandmadecreations/

instagram.com/ https://www.instagram.com/grannyandgrandpacustomcreation/

goimagine.com/ https://goimagine.com/granny-and-grandpas-custom-creations/

pinterest.com/https://www.pinterest.com/grannyscustomcreations

#grannygrandpascustomcreations

[shirlleycoyle]

Airports Have Failed to Provide Clean Bathrooms for Uber Drivers

In 2017, it looked like Uber and Lyft drivers might finally gain access to bathrooms at St. Louis Lambert International Airport.

In a rare move, Uber—which has repeatedly come under scrutiny for skimping on basic amenities for its workers—told the airport it was willing to pay for drivers to use customer bathrooms in the parking lot where shuttle buses picked up travelers, according to emails from August 2017 obtained by Motherboard through a public records request.

In one email exchange, the airport’s leadership pushed back against that proposal and another suggested by Uber to bring in portable bathrooms.

“I don’t like the idea of having them use the facility as I think it would become a nightmare….depending on what they are willing to pay it might be ‘possible’ but that is a big if,” the St. Louis airport director, Rhonda K. Hamm-Niebruegge, wrote in an email.

“I don’t think the look of portable toilets is what we are going for, even on an economy parking lot,” property division manager of the airport, Robert Salarano, wrote in the same email thread.

“[Uber and Lyft being responsible] for their own porta potty would be ideal,” Ronald Stella, the airport’s deputy director, wrote. “We should just keep them out of sight as much as feasible.”

None of the plans ever came to fruition, and three years later, Uber and Lyft drivers still do not have anywhere to pee at Missouri’s largest airport. Instead, drivers use the bathroom at nearby gas stations, an Uber driver in St. Louis and the airport’s public information officer told Motherboard.

St. Louis Lambert International Airport

*

The lack of bathroom access for Uber and Lyft drivers at St. Louis’s airport is emblematic of a nationwide problem that has surfaced as ride-hailing platforms have rapidly expanded into every major commercial airport in the country, leading to massive driver-led campaigns for bathroom access at Los Angeles International Airport and New York City’s JFK Airport.

Public records obtained by Motherboard from four of the nation’s 50 largest airports paint a grim picture: Airports aren’t equipped for Uber and Lyft drivers, and no one wants to pay for new restrooms or to maintain existing ones. The working conditions of rideshare drivers appear to be rarely considered, and when they are, they are treated as afterthoughts or nuisances. In at least once case at San Francisco International Airport, one of the busiest in the country, officials took punitive measures against drivers by removing hand washing stations with running water and replacing them with less effective hand sanitizer stations.

Years of shift manager reports and emails obtained by Motherboard show that drivers frequently complain about clogged up porta-potties, missing toilet seat covers and hand sanitizer, and broken hand-washing stations at San Francisco’s airport.

Last year, in a move that dismayed drivers, the airport replaced hand-washing stations for drivers with hand sanitizer, which is notably less effective. “Drivers often use the water and paper towels to clean their cars instead of washing their hands,” a San Francisco airport transportation planner wrote in an email, explaining the switch.

San Francisco International Airport

In late February, an Uber driver complained to the airport, the San Francisco’s mayor’s office and the Department of Health about the risks of removing hand washing stations during a pandemic, and Motherboard reported on the issue. "I find it hard to understand why we can not have the sinks. It is still very unsanitary," he wrote to airport leadership. Eventually, the airport returned the sinks.

“The bathrooms at San Francisco airport are filthy. Sometimes the [toilets] are almost filled to the top, and there’s usually no water to wash your hands,” another Uber driver in San Francisco who wished to remain anonymous because he feared retaliation, told Motherboard of his experiences at the airport this July. “I carry my own water and sanitizer.”

Work orders from San Diego International Airport, obtained by Motherboard through public record requests, include complaints about water pooling out of porta-potties, overflowing trash, leaking sinks, and “strong odors.”

These issues raise the question of who bears the responsibility of paying for clean and safe bathrooms for drivers: airports or rideshare companies. Federal law requires employers to provide at least one bathroom for every 15 or so employees, but this access does not extend to gig workers including Uber and Lyft drivers, who are independent contractors.

Matt Wing, an Uber spokesperson, told Motherboard the rideshare giant has never paid for airport bathrooms for its drivers at any US airports, though it has built bathrooms for Uber drivers at three airports in Canada. Instead it pays indirectly through trip fees, leaving it up to airports to decide “what facilities to provide and how to maintain them.”

“Uber contributes per trip fees to more than 200 airports annually in the US,” Wing told Motherboard. “In 2019, that was a total of $300 million in fees of which more than $30 million went to LAX. Airports spend these funds on costs associated with rideshare operations including restrooms for drivers as well as in some cases additional facilities such as prayer rooms.”

A spokesperson for Lyft told Motherboard, “Airports are solely responsible for the maintenance of facilities for TNC drivers. Funds from airport trip fees that are remitted to the airport are designated for this purpose.”

But as documents show, airports are failing to provide these basic amenities. In February, Motherboard reported that Los Angeles International Airport, which previously gave thousands of drivers access to six “foul-smelling and fly-ridden” porta-potties, agreed to add three new units, only after 2,000 rideshare drivers signed onto a letter “demanding safe and hygienic bathrooms.” For years, drivers at New York City’s JFK did not have access to bathrooms: the parking lot for drivers was described as a “wasteland of pee bottles.”

As a point of comparison, major airports in San Francisco, Los Angeles, and New York City did not accommodate taxi cab drivers with clean, safe bathrooms until they organized in the 1990s and early 2000s.

Veena Dubal, a gig economy expert and law professor at the University of California at Hastings, told Motherboard that Uber should bear the burden of ensuring drivers have access to bathrooms, particularly in California where the state attorney general is suing Uber for misclassifying drivers as contractors. By classifying drivers as independent contractors, Uber and other gig economy companies avoid providing workers with basic rights and protections such as worker’s compensation, health insurance, unemployment benefits, and bathrooms.

Are you a gig worker? Do you have a tip to share with us about your working conditions? We'd love to hear from you. Please get in touch with Lauren Gurley: lauren.gurley@vice.com or Signal 201-897-2019.

Lack of access to clean, safe bathrooms has been a consistent issue for Uber and Lyft drivers since the inception of the de rideshare apps, and has only worsened during the pandemic, when many businesses have closed their doors to gig workers. Uber has also been known to discriminate against drivers at its driver support centers, or so-called Greenlight Hubs, offering more expensive porta-potties for employees and inferior ones to drivers.

“Uber and Lyft don’t want to bear the responsibility for providing drivers with bathrooms because it indicates that they have much more power in the workplace than they want,” Dubal said. “It’s not in their interest to invest in infrastructure for drivers. But at the same time, they’re pushing public-private partnerships with cities all around the country. It’s hypocritical for them not to provide infrastructure for drivers.”

Airports Have Failed to Provide Clean Bathrooms for Uber Drivers syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/

[thegolfinggirlsguide]

Worst Golf Infomercials of All Time

We have all been there; it’s 3AM, you’re wide-awake and obviously the smartest thing to do is turn on the TV and watch all the truly spectacular shows airing at this ridiculous hour.  Being an avid golfer and passionate fan of the game, my TV will most likely turn onto the Golf Channel or something in that same genre, where, what to my sleepy eyes should appear, but a “pitchmen (rambling, on a continuous loop, about a new), revolutionary, game-changing, must-have (golf) product” or more accurately a toy; (golfdigest.com)—that promises you, ‘with just 10 swings a day’, this baby can cure all my problems forever, take me from a 20 to a 5 handicap and maybe even give me the opportunity to play on tour, win millions and retire at the age of 40.  Hahaha; yeah right!  

(Credit:  Golf Digest)

1. The Uro Club

What, ask you, is this fabulous toy?  Well, as stated in perhaps one of the funniest infomercials I have seen to date, The Uro Club, is a discrete sanitary solution for your urinary relief; the club has a reservoir built into the grip to relieve yourself and it is not only leak proof, but easy to clean and comes with a towel, so it will appear as though you are just checking out your club (all information above stated on following video:  

As the commentator says, it is “the only club in your bag guaranteed to keep you out of the woods”.

This one leaves me speechless.  Really, a fake golf club used to relieve yourself on the course?  I mean, maybe if someone has to go that urgently, they should really look into an adult diaper such as Seni—this would keep all your private parts hidden while at the same time providing you with a soft, super absorbent, comfortable and odorless underwear that will last for 8-10 hours. Just a thought…

https://youtu.be/zx_cmAIyaDQ

2. Hot Biscuits

Well now, finally, a product designed to actually keep my golf balls warm—actually, to the optimal internal temperature which would be somewhere between 105-115 degrees F.  This magical machine hooks right into the lighter in your car and will warm your golf balls for, that’s right, 4 hours!

Okay, so is this product completely insane or does it have some reasonable logic behind it?

Having played college golf in the East, where the average temperature for our tournaments was around 45-50 degrees, I can understand trying to keep both your hands and your golf balls warm the colder the weather got—let me just tell you how fun it was to play in a good old nor’easter—rain or snow—I am losing all feeling in my hands and a drive that would normally fly 215 yards was barely making it 190 yards.  However, where am I going to find the time to charge up this machine and warm up my balls for that days round—5 players share 1 van that is usually parked nowhere near the course and we are off, never returning to the van, for at least 2 hours before our team begins teeing off.  In addition, knowing the average college round lasted around 5.5-6 hours and my Hot Biscuit Balls will only be good for 4 hours…I can just feel the state of my balls and most definitely, my hands—completely frozen.

Although this infomercial did have me for a second when they mentioned there were other ways to warm your golf balls, needless to say, their ingenious idea involved using a microwave or boiling water because, as we know, there are a plethora of both hanging out around the golf course and most definitely, right behind the 1st tee.

So, there I was, one freezing October day, searching for something to keep my hands warm as well as the golf balls I was using—EPIFANY—hand warmers in both pockets.  This crazy idea, I mean, totally out of left-field (J) did the same job as the Hot Biscuit, but cost a mere $6.46 for 5 sets of two, including a magnificent 10 hour life as opposed to $199.99 for the Hot Biscuits, whose power runs out after a mere 4 hours.  Now call me crazy, but I think the same level ‘science and technology’ was achieved saving right around $190.00.  FACT.

(www.intheholegolf.com)

3. The Speed Stick:  Just 20 Swings a Day with This Brand New Training Aid Can Give You 20 Extra Yards (Or More!) Off the Tee

“If you’ve been searching for a quick and easy way to add yards and shave strokes, today’s your lucky day: You’ve found the magic bullet…. training aid that combines three proven distance-boosters to increase your club head speed by 8 or more miles an hour and add at least 20 extra yards to your drives.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8v8eVrLUigQ&t

(click to play video in browser)

4. The Hammer X Driver

Jack “The Hammer” Hamm, is undoubtedly one of the most well-known golf gizmo designers and promoters. His Hammer X driver, states the “head is made of…a secret revolutionary metal that is 300 percent harder than titanium, contains a special graphite shaft and will conform to any golf swing, with a center of gravity near the grip.”

After watching the video, I cannot help laughing as John Hamm yells “boom!”, “wham” or “ahhhh” upon the impact of each shot.  And who cannot love watching his flowing locks flutter in the wind as he tells us a “well-struck drive REALLY DOES SET OFF THE SPACE SHUTTLE.”  Yeah right.

https://youtu.be/IYI0bPnvzOY

5. Dream Swing—circa 1992

For a mere $239, you can own your very own stake with an elastic band on it.  All you have to do is stick the stake into the ground and attach the band to your club; all of your swings will be perfectly on plan and, guess what, you will be hitting it like a pro!

(dreamswing.com)

6. The Coach

Looking to improve your golf swing, fitness and scores in a matter of only 15 minutes a day, just a 2 or 3 days a week? Disclaimer: Remember to always consult your physician before starting any exercise program.  Sounds amazing, right!?  This product guarantees that after only 6 weeks, you will be hitting ball farther, more accurately and more consistently!

Don’t love the product; the company will “cheerfully” refund your purchase.

(Credit: www.worldofgolf.com)

7. The Alien Ultimate Wedge by Pat Simmons

While the Alien Wedge was ahead of its time in terms of design—wedges are now all coming out with extra large soles and bounce—the terrible marketing video coupled with the pure ugliness of the club, did not lead to a multimillion-dollar endeavor.

https://youtu.be/UX86csQORFc

While there are a plethora of these videos out there, the 7 above are by far some of my absolute favorites.  Can you say we are ‘bringing back the ‘80’s, and early 90’s, too, the clothes and hair-dos alone are beyond amazing, the commentary is priceless and the entertainment value is truly above and beyond.

Nonetheless, here I am, it’s 3AM and where am I? I’m sitting on my couch, ready and waiting to make my payment. LPGA/PGA tour, here I come!!

[the-healing-power-of-cats]

v. New Mexico and L.A.

When I got to Albuquerque, I had to get to the airport. I had booked a shuttle bus from the airport to Santa Fe because I had not known about the train. First, I took a public transit bus and then I walked for ten minutes. I thought I could walk to the airport, but the sidewalk stopped. I asked a man working at a Park n’ Ride if I could take their shuttle bus to the airport because I had thought I could walk to the airport, but I could not. The Park n’ Ride man looked at me and said, alright I’ll get one of the boys to drive you.  

*

I arrived at the spiritual-community house at dusk and the colours of the setting sun in the sky really moved me. u. had cooked dinner and we all ate together. v. said I looked like a happy person and that most people were not happy. I was very surprised when he said that because he did not know that I had been having anxiety attacks the last few nights. I wondered if you could be a very anxious person and a happy person at the same time.

After dinner, w. asked if I wanted to participate in their song and dance meditation. I said sure. They asked if I had a song I would like to share with the community. I told them that I did not sing very often and so unfortunately, I could not teach them any songs. We went to the meditation room and I tried singing along. Then, we held hands and danced in a circle.

v. told me that he had not chosen the spirit but that the spirit had chosen him. He gave me a sleeping bag and I slept on a mat in the meditation room. The light of the full moon flooded the room.

The next night, w. put up a tree in the meditation room. It was not a Christmas tree but simply a big branch from a regular tree that he had found behind the house. He told me that we would be performing a winter ritual together. Everyone would contribute with either a dance, a song, a craft or story. He told me that he wished to sing Oh Tannenbaum in German and would like me to help him.

We sang Oh Tannenbaum many times. We sang it together and then w. wanted to sing the harmonies. He had a problem pronouncing Blätter, so we started again every time we got to the end of the first verse. w. got very annoyed with himself because he felt like he was saying it wrong every time.

Then we danced around the tree. We danced together and then we all did solos. I felt very free as I span in circles and rolled around on the floor. After I finished my improvised dance, w. exclaimed, beautiful! This made me feel validated. As we were dancing w. shouted that now would be a good time to take our clothes off. I did not feel psychologically ready for that experience so luckily for me, the nudity idea lost its momentum and was succinctly dropped. Instead, we lay down with our heads together, we put our hands in the air and invented a cooperative dance with our hands and later with our feet.

On the last day, u. was outside doing nude yoga and when I walked into the meditation room, w. was doing hula hoop. Although he was not nude, I was just as startled. When he saw me, he told me about the many health benefits of hula hooping.

Before leaving, I told everybody that I had really enjoyed singing and that I would join an anarchic choir when I got back home. They made fun of me because I had said that I did not sing when I had arrived two days ago, but they also said that I had a good singing voice.

*

x. wanted to get a sign that said Tipping is not required but appreciated for her car because she was an Uber driver. I told her she should get a sign that said Tipping is sexy instead because we all want to be sexy. I thought it was effective because it was manipulative. x. liked the idea. She told me that she had already ordered a webcam that she would install in her car to make her feel safer. She had also ordered throw up bags for New Year’s Eve.

x. loved her job because she got to meet all sorts of people like movie stars and new born babies. Although she was not a certified counselor or psychologist, people would tell her their problems and she liked to give them advice. I also liked giving people advice.

On Christmas day, x. and I went to the movies with her Meetup group. It was a Meetup group for older women living in the Santa Fe area. We were going to see a period comedy drama and we were looking forward to all the sex and debauchery. We were looking forward to watching not only the sex between women and men but also the sex between women and women. The Meetup group sat together in the fourth row because they had booked the tickets together. I had booked my ticket much later, so I sat by myself in the last seat of the last row. I sat next to a woman who thought there must be a technical problem because the movie was very dark.

After the movie, the Meetup group was extremely disappointed because the trailer had made it seem like a laugh, but it had not been a laugh. One of the women said that she would have been very angry if the character in the movie had really killed the rabbit with her shoe because that would not have been funny at all. I thought the movie was fine. We concluded that that was probably only because I had not seen the trailer and was not expecting to laugh. Then, we went to have dinner at a Chinese restaurant called Ying-Yang.

I asked x. if she had a tea towel, so I could dry her dishes. She said that she used to have a tea towel but then she never used it, so she got rid of it. Now, she just lets the dishes dry naturally.

x. also said that she was not a household person and added, you’re German you could clean my kitchen. I said, I will clean your kitchen, x. Once, I had cleaned her kitchen I was worried that she would not notice it was clean because she could not see without her glasses on.

But later that day, she exclaimed, you cleaned my stove! with her arms up in the air.

x. said baby shampoo smelled like artificial babies and that Procter and Gamble had invented the artificial baby smell.

*

y. picked me up at the train station with a sign that said my name. I wanted to cry when I saw her because the sign was so beautiful. At her house, she showed me the guestroom I would be staying in and the guest bathroom. Then she asked if I was hungry. We ate lentil soup with crackers and after dinner we discussed Georgia O’Keeffe and politics.

She told me about a Danish man she had hosted once who thought he could walk to her house across the golf course. The Danish man did not know that there was a metal fence around the golf course. So, y. told him you can’t walk to my house. Where are you? I will come pick you up. When we drove by the golf course, y. said that’s where the Danish man wanted to walk across.

I told y. that in Europe we have McDonald’s, Burger King, Starbucks and KFC. She said, Oh my.

The next day, y. drove me to the Amtrak station in Albuquerque where I was going to take the train to LA. The train was two hours late, so I started crying because I thought two hours was a long time and did not have the nerves anymore. All the passengers were wearing sweat pants and hoodies and holding their pillows because it was a night train and they were all ready to sleep. This made me even more depressed because seeing so many people in pyjamas waiting at an Amtrak station during a snow storm was depressing. They were showing a movie on TV. The movie was very violent and there were gunshots and banging and crashing and punching and smashing and the volume was up very high. The sound effects were making me anxious and I really wished they would turn it off. I asked a woman to watch my bag so I could go to the toilet and think positive thoughts.

When we finally got on the train, I spent the whole train ride worrying the train would derail. I wondered how we would derail and when. I never worry about trains derailing in Switzerland so, this was a new worry for me.

I asked the man working in the Amtrak Café Car if the hot chocolate was any good and if he recommended it. He pointed at the Swiss Miss Milk Chocolate Hot Cocoa Mix packet and I said, I’ll take it.

It took 16 hours to get to LA but once we arrived the sun was shining, and the weather was warm.

*

I heard that Uber drivers sometimes kidnap people. So, every time I ordered an Uber I contemplated that possibility. I did not think my driver, z. would kidnap me because the cover of his seats had Winnie-the-Pooh on them. Not the trademark Winnie-the-Pooh but maybe a Chinese version of Winnie-the-Pooh. He also had a Hello Kitty steering wheel. He told me that he had bought a round trip flight to China from California and that it had only cost him 400 dollars. This made me think about how cheap it can be to fly so far nowadays.

*

At LAX, I tried checking in for my flight at one of the check-in machines. It told me that the name on my ticket did not match the name on my passport. The name on my ticket was Laura Palomahammes and the name on my passport was Laura Paloma Hammes. The machine told me to go to one of the agents, who told me not to bother going to “Assistance” because they could not change my name. I could only change my name by contacting the other airline.

I started crying because I could not believe this was happening to me. I would never stick both my last names together and I was trying so hard to do everything right. I had not even lost anything or gotten anything stolen. I had not even been mugged at gunpoint. I went to stand in the “Assistance” line anyway because I wanted to be assisted by the Alaska Air Assistance lady.

Through my tears I told the Assistance lady that I was flying to Frankfurt but that the name on my ticket did not match the name on my passport. First, she asked where Frankfurt was and I said, Germany. Then, she called someone who told her that it was fine and that their system had stuck my names together. So, she checked me in and then she said, Laura, right now I have you sitting in the middle seat. Would like an aisle or a window seat?

And I said, wi-wi-window, please.

*

When people ask, how was your trip?

I answer, I’ve seen some stuff.

*

I bought very short glittery shorts in Nashville. Silver and gold sequins spell Nashville on the backside. Whenever I wear them the sequins fall off and there are sequins on all the floors of my apartment now.

[prinsez05]

new MCM scarf added to the store ~ offering a striped pattern in shades of pink, khaki and white - signed Vera in the lower corner - measures 27" square - labeled scarves by Vera - 100% Acetate - Made in Japan - hand rolled hem. Vera Neumann was born in Connecticut 1907, died New York 1993. She attended Cooper Union. In 1946 she founded a business with her husband, George Neumann, and F. Werner-Hamm. She designed prints for scarves, apparel and furnishing fabrics, table linens and towels using only her first name, Vera. From 1946-67 she was a freelance designer for F. Schumacher & Co. During the 50s she began to use a small ladybug next to her signature Vera on her scarves and many other fabrics. The bulk of Vera's 1970's designs were produced in the Hudson River town of Ossining, NY for many years. The production company was called Printex. They operated until the late 80's, at least, probably early 90's eBay item 192847321030 see more pics in my shop ~ now available ~ PayPal accepted ~ available for pick-up or delivery from my work space with the assistance of my partner in pursuit of happiness @kerryserody 💪 #verascarf #veraneumann #veraneumannscarf #mcm #scarf #satinscarf #striped #vintage #prop #forsale #costume #costumeshop #ebayseller #ebaystore #etsyseller #ebayitem (at Ridley Park, Pennsylvania) https://www.instagram.com/p/Buot0T6Htku/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=15lnui1ikhbr9