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estescollision · 2 months ago

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Your Guide To Checking The Quality Of Collision Repair

The Collision Repair Shop You Can Trust In Miami, OK - Estes Collision

Ensuring the quality of automobile collision repair is crucial. As a leading collision repair shop in Miami, OK, Estes Collision emphasizes the importance of taking proactive steps to check if your car collision repair was done properly. Thorough inspections and understanding the repair process help you ensure that your vehicle is restored to its pre-accident condition, both in terms of aesthetics and safety.

Visual Inspection: What to Look for After Collision Repair

The first step in verifying the quality of your auto collision repair in Miami, OK, is a comprehensive visual inspection. Estes Collision advises vehicle owners to closely examine the paint job for seamless blending with the original color, free from overspray or color discrepancies.

It's also important to check the alignment of body panels such as doors, hood, trunk, and fenders. Consistent and even gaps between panels are a sign of meticulous repair work. Any misalignment could indicate underlying structural issues that might compromise the safety of the vehicle.

Additionally, inspect all glass components, including the windshield, side windows, and rear window, for any cracks, chips, or poor installation. Properly functioning windows are essential for visibility and overall driving experience, so make sure they operate smoothly without any unusual noises or resistance.

Functional Inspection: Ensuring Everything Works as It Should

Estes Collision stresses the importance of a functional inspection to ensure that all electrical components and systems are working correctly after a collision repair. Testing features such as the horn, headlights, turn signals, and brake lights is crucial for safe driving. Issues such as flickering lights or dimmed signals should be addressed immediately to avoid potential hazards on the road.

A test drive is another essential step in assessing the quality of your automobile collision repair. Pay attention to how the vehicle feels while driving. Look for any vibrations, unusual noises, or changes in steering. Additionally, check the engine temperature to ensure there are no issues with the coolant system that could indicate neglected repairs. Estes Collision's team of skilled technicians is dedicated to ensuring that every automobile collision repair is completed to the highest standards so customers can drive with confidence.

Structural Integrity: Checking Beneath the Surface

Beyond the surface, it's vital to verify the structural integrity of your vehicle. Estes Collision, known for its reliable auto collision repair in Miami, OK, uses the latest technology and OEM procedures to ensure that the vehicle frame is secure and free from hidden damage. After a collision, it’s essential to inspect the vehicle's frame for any signs of buckling, twisting, or structural damage. Estes Collision recommends focusing on critical areas such as the front and rear sections, pillars, and undercarriage. Proper inspection of weld quality and corrosion is crucial to maintaining the vehicle’s safety and performance.

Other Automobile Collision Repair Issues to Consider

Estes Collision also highlights the importance of considering other factors that may impact the quality of your vehicle's repair. One such factor is "clipping," where a section of another vehicle is welded onto yours. This practice is not recommended for modern cars, as it can lead to structural weaknesses. Another key aspect to verify is the quality of the parts used in the repair. Always request documentation or receipts to ensure that only high-quality parts were used in your vehicle's repair. Poor-quality or used parts can significantly affect the longevity and safety of your vehicle.

Questions To Ask Your Collision Repair Shop

Asking the right questions can help ensure transparency and quality in the repair process. Estes Collision advises vehicle owners to inquire about the specific procedures followed during the collision repair, the quality of parts used, and the availability of warranties on both labor and parts. Understanding the collision repair process can provide peace of mind and confidence that your vehicle has been restored to its pre-accident condition.

Why Choose Estes Collision for Your Auto Collision Repair In Miami, OK

Owned by Billie Estes, Estes Collision is a trusted name in automobile collision repair in Miami, OK. With years of experience in collision repair, automotive refinishing, and painting, this collision center has built a reputation for excellence in the industry. The team at Estes Collision uses high-quality parts, the latest equipment, and skills to deliver exceptional results. The shop's membership in the Oklahoma Auto Body Association (OKABA) reflects its dedication to maintaining the highest standards of quality and professionalism.

Customer satisfaction is at the core of Estes Collision's business. The shop's commitment to transparency and quality is evident in the positive reviews from customers who appreciate the meticulous attention to detail and professionalism displayed by the team. Estes Collision also offers a limited lifetime warranty on all collision repairs, providing customers with peace of mind regarding the quality and durability of the work performed.

Trust Estes Collision For Quality Collision Repair In Miami, OK

Taking proactive steps to inspect the quality of your vehicle's collision repair is essential for your safety and the longevity of your car. By conducting thorough visual and functional inspections, you can ensure that your vehicle has been repaired to the highest standards. If you have any concerns about the quality of your repair, don’t hesitate to reach out to a reputable collision repair shop like Estes Collision in Miami, OK.

For reliable auto collision repair in Miami, OK, trust Estes Collision. Their team of experts is dedicated to providing top-notch service and ensuring that your vehicle is safe and roadworthy. Contact Estes Collision at (918) 542-6699 to schedule your appointment and experience the difference that its quality collision repair in Miami, OK, can make.

Contact Information:

Estes Collision, LLC

418 S Main Street Miami, OK 74354 United States

Amanda Estes (918) 542-6699 https://estescollision.com/

Original Source: https://estescollision.com/how-to-check-if-your-car-collision-repair-was-done-properly/

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enz1an · 1 year ago

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53/Just A Car

'It's just a car,' Vale thought, wandering along a scrapyard under a depressingly gray sky, 'Just a car.'

It was a desolate place, eerily quiet and barren save for the dozens, maybe hundreds of wrecked cars piled up around him. They were all in a more or less sorry state. Most were still somewhat recognizable, but some were stripped down to nothing more than a bleak frame, just bare metal, weathered and rusted. They looked like skeletons, shadows of their former shape. Quite apocalyptic, really. If all of humanity was gone, this is what he'd imagine the world to look like. Empty and destroyed.

He wasn't here for parts, not even for himself, really. His own car was parked safely off the premises, and now he was following the rather vague directions of the sole overseer of this scrapyard that had pointed him to an area in a far corner of the yard. Walking along, nearing his destination, loose gravel and sand crunching away under his steps, he found the cars here looked newer, somehow. Just as damaged, yet the paint on them was still shiny, no rust had had a chance to overtake them yet. These must've been the new arrivals, which meant he was getting closer. Rounding an impressive stack of three cars that didn't seem as structurally sound as he'd like, he stopped.

There it was. From farther away, the car almost looked whole. The color glinted in the cold light that found its way through the unbroken cover of clouds above. Miami Blue, Vale remembered, a staple Porsche color. He'd never been fully sure if it really was blue or teal, to him it seemed like it had a touch of green. Now, he decided it was blue, blue and nothing else, a bright, uplifting color harshly contrasting the browns and reds of dirt and rust all around. It wasn't enough to cheer him up. Looking upon the Porsche, he felt nothing but dread.

Vale sighed deeply and closed his eyes, fighting down the fear he felt upon the vision, then he confronted it head-on. He furrowed his eyebrows and stared at this specific wreck. His brother's Porsche Cayman. Or what was left of it, anyway.

'Just a car,' Vale reiterated in his mind and crossed the last distance with determination. He had a job to do. Then he could leave.

He arrived at the car and stared, slowly circling it. It didn't look too bad from what he could see, largely intact structurally. The roof was scratched up, most of the windows were shattered or outright gone. That wasn't so bad. But Vale also knew this was only half of the whole picture. He was looking at the passenger side, but the impact had been on the other. Calming himself yet again, he took some more steps, approaching this side’s door. He couldn’t look into the car through the shattered window, so he had no idea what awaited him inside. He grabbed the door handle and pulled, but it didn’t give way. Either the car was somehow locked, or the frame was too bent for the door to open, despite looking fairly alright. Vale cursed and stepped back. Well, the other one would be open for sure. Slowly, he made his way around the hood of the car. The gold and red Porsche crest with the prancing horse in the middle was still shiny and glinted in the indirect light, but the closer he got to the driver's side, the worse the damage got. The right front light of the Cayman was broken in a way he'd never seen, the clear plastic literally split open like an eggshell to reveal the lights beneath, now obviously dark. Forever so. It made him feel an odd tug at his stomach, as if it was slowly sinking, dragging him with it, down to the ground. A hesitant, subliminal type of fear. He really wasn't looking forward to what was to come.

Keeping his eyes trained on the ground out of unwillingness to look at the car, Vale walked to its side, turning, then looking up, and he stopped.

Everything stopped.

It felt like him and the whole world and time and space and the fabric of reality were frozen, the moment turning into a reflection of itself. He couldn't fully process what he was seeing, struggled to unify this - what he saw in front of him - with the memories of Gabe's Porsche.

Then the reflection broke, shattered into a million pieces, small like specks of dust, and Vale's mind resumed its function. The first clear emotion he could pinpoint was panic, pure fear, as he was whisked away onto a plane of memories and forced to remember the night, the very night that changed his worldview in such an unrelenting way.

He'd been pacing in the living room, worrying, praying, waiting for Gabe to come home. He'd already known something was up. Call it a brotherly bond, or strings of fate, something, some odd thing tying him to Gabe, and his heart had long been aching, long before his mind had begun to fantasize and fear all worst possible reasons why Gabe had not come home two hours after he'd texted him that he was on his way.

A cryptic message, it'd been.

'Coming home. I think I fucked up. Have a drink with me?'

'What did you fuck up, Gabe? What happened? Why are you not with Kyle?' Vale had asked himself. Again and again while he'd been waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

Until the sound of the doorbell had ripped through his thoughts, dispersing them like a fall storm would send dry leaves flying in all directions.

He'd felt relief, sweet relief, then more fear, more dread. Why...? Why would Gabe have rung the doorbell if he'd arrived through the garage with his car, as he always did? He should've been there, right there at the apartment's door Vale had then been standing in front of. But Gabe hadn't been there. Gabe hadn't come home. Instead, two police officers had come to his door, and that alone had almost been enough to make Vale throw up. His mind had been screaming, ‘No’, screaming so loud he almost hadn't heard one of the officers ask him if he was Valerian Pricefield. Vale had stared, and at that point hadn't been sure of that himself, because his whole world had begun to crumble. He must've shown some form of agreement, however, because then, all the bad words had come.

Accident. Crashed. Hospital. Surgery. Critical condition.

Dazed, confused, unable or unwilling to accept what they meant, Vale had gone to the hospital where his brother had been fighting for his life on an operating table while Vale could still do nothing but wait. And wait. And wait.

The doctors had had more horrible words to say, as if it hadn't been enough already.

Internal bleeding. Severe damage. Fractures. Amputation.

Vale had lost the fight, then. He’d gone to the nearest bathroom and emptied his stomach until there was nothing but revolting bile left in him.

And so he felt again now. Physically sick, so unwell, as he couldn't stop staring at the wreck he didn't want to see.

The driver's side door of the Porsche looked like a piece of paper someone had crumpled into as tight of a ball as they could and then tried to straighten it out again, with very little success. It was uneven, bent, and it didn't seem to really fit anymore, and the mirror that should have been attached to it was nowhere to be seen. The whole frame of the Porsche was badly warped, and Vale knew the door took so many beatings. First from the truck that had so violently T-boned the Porsche, then from the firefighters that had aggressively pried it open to get Gabe out of there after the car had been flipped on its roof.

Looking at it now, Vale only had one thought, and he felt ashamed of it.

'How did he survive?'

Luck must've been with Gabe that night, because from the looks of it, this was the kind of wreck you usually see just as mangled corpses being dragged out of. Yet Gabe was fine. If fine meant alive. Because alive he was, with some broken ribs, one hand less, and the worst bruises Vale had ever seen. The fact he was still here at all seemed like a miracle in its own right, yet the warm gratitude that wanted to spread in Vale's chest was quickly incinerated by an infernal wave of rage. Vale felt so overwhelmingly angry at the other driver, the overtired trucker who hadn't slept in thirty hours at the time of the accident, who'd been speeding, who had run a red light that he had somehow not seen, just as he hadn't seen the bright blue supercar making its way across the intersection, and who hadn't reacted fast enough. The reconstruction and investigation of the accident were still ongoing, but the truck's data had registered a brake input only two meager seconds before the collision. Far too late. And therefore, when it hit him, the truck had been barraging towards Gabe at the completely fair speed of fifty-three miles an hour. In the city.

Again. 'How the fuck did he survive?'

Vale was tense, tense emotionally, and tense physically. He felt like he was ready to burst and was glad he was alone, because he felt about ready to commit a murder. With nothing to direct his anger at, he flexed his fingers, balled them into fists before extending them again. He repeated the motions and let his fury burn bright until it died down into embers, a glow that would never fade, but it dimmed and became more bearable, allowing him to relax his cramped up jaw. His teeth hurt from how tightly he'd pressed them together.

Vale hated being angry. He wanted to work through his emotions in a constructive and reflected way, but with sudden bursts of anger like this one, he always failed. He wasn't able to do anything with it, too tight was its grasp on him, too large the control it assumed once it spread through his soul. He'd found out there was little he could do about it aside from letting the fiery feeling roll through him until it trickled out as it did now.

While he was beginning to feel like himself again, less blinded by rage, he continued his distanced investigation of the car. The rear bumper was missing. It had been torn off, and, looking around, Vale couldn't see it anywhere. It probably was around here somewhere, but perhaps it ended up in a different scrapyard entirely. Vale could see the white of the deployed airbags inside the dark interior of the car. By now they had obviously deflated again, but Vale was endlessly relieved that they had done their job, and done it well. There was no chance Gabe would still be with him if they hadn't.

Vale felt deeply saddened looking upon this car Gabe used to love so much. Now it was little more than scrap metal. Scuffed up paint, bent bodywork, there were more broken pieces on the Cayman than such that were not. It seemed obvious it would be written off at near original value by the insurance company, aside from a little diminished price from its three years of age and the surprisingly high mileage. Gabe had taken this vehicle absolutely everywhere, not even to show off, as one could have assumed, but purely because he was so in love with it. Vale had scoffed over his childish glee so many times, and complained about the terrible impact on the environment the Porsche had, but now he had to admit to himself, he was glad it had been this car and no other, because this car was obviously built well enough to offer great protection, even in a severe crash.

An agent from the insurance company - who also happened to be a friend of Richard, Gabe and Vale's father - had already taken a look at the car, only briefly assessing and photographing the exterior damage before guaranteeing a good compensation. Vale hadn't been there, then, only Richard, but now, the insurance company asked for some registration document of the car so the claim could be filed. Said document was the reason for his visit here, because, according to Gabe, it was somewhere in the car. Now, Vale had to get it, because there was no way Gabe himself could stomach the state of his car, let alone even get here since he was still recovering from his injuries.

Richard and his wife, Annabelle, the two lawyers, were busy in their office, working twelve, fourteen, sixteen hour days, preparing a huge lawsuit against the company the other driver involved in the accident worked for. Something about illegal work conditions, dangerous business practices, whatever. Vale didn't care enough. Even if the company was fined, even if the driver went to prison, none of it would return his brother to normal. Gabe was so different. So quiet, so absent, so withdrawn. Passive, numb, sad, at times even lifeless. Vale struggled to recognize him, and even harder was trying to be there for someone who didn't vocalize their needs or feelings, or react to anything at all. Most days, Gabe didn't even get out of bed, just stayed in his dark room, waiting for his body to heal, his heart to stop aching, all the pain to stop. He barely ate and drank if Vale didn't practically force it into him, and some days, Vale was scared he'd given up entirely, but he refused to believe it. There had to be something left inside him, some small spark of his old cheerful self, and Vale would do anything in his power to nurse it back to a stronger flame, help Gabe to return to life. But he was afraid he was beginning to run out of options…

Gabe had no interest in speaking with him or his sister, Maggie, or Azura and Mark, his best friends. He regularly went to therapy, multiple times a week, both physical and psychological, and obviously Vale had no idea how that went since it was confidential and Gabe didn't tell, but just from looking at his older brother, it didn't seem to help. Maybe all he needed was time, but Vale was so very bad at just sitting around and doing nothing. He had to think of something else to help. He just had to. But not right now. Right now he had to get those papers out of the car.

He took a deep breath and shook out his arms, trying to rid his muscles of the remaining tightness in them, then he stepped to the Porsche and steeled his mind.

Vale reached out to the door. The handle was gone, so he hooked his fingers into its uneven edge that was bent away from the rest of the car, and he pulled. The tortured hinges gave way, the beat up metal creaking audibly. Vale cringed, then he looked around the inside of the car. Oddly enough, it looked almost intact if you ignored the shattered windows and airbags. Some plastic pieces were out of place, but it looked like you could just push them back into their original position and they’d be good to go. Obviously the right door didn’t look too peachy from the inside either, after all, the warping of the material was in part to blame for the loss of Gabe’s hand.

Vale leaned down to get a better look at the wreck and had to pull back when he saw the blood. Blood on the inside of the door, blood on the white material of the airbag limply hanging from the steering wheel. It wasn’t a lot. Studying medicine, Vale had seen much, much worse, but something about knowing it was his brother’s blood made it harder. He couldn’t help but imagine what it had been like, Gabe hanging in the seatbelt in his upside down car. Conscious. He was awake and alert when the paramedics had arrived, able to state his name, the date and day of the week. Vale had asked him time and time again if he could remember any of it, but Gabe had only tiredly shaken his head.

Vale had had a long conversation with one of the first responders who took Gabe to the hospital, and she had answered all of his questions. According to her, Gabe had seemed oddly calm with the whole situation, looking around at all the frenzied people and events, as if he neither understood nor felt unsettled by them. Until the point he caught a glimpse of his car from the outside, anyway. Then he panicked, hyperventilated, and had to be sedated. The paramedic had asked him who to call, and Gabe had asked for him of all people. Not his parents, not his part-time lover Kyle. Him. His little brother.

Gabe hadn’t been able to tell them his phone number, but he did say where he lived and that Vale would be there.

Vale couldn’t lie. Despite the horrors of that situation, it filled him with pride that it was him who Gabe wanted by his side at his lowest. It was comforting to know he trusted him, and that he mattered to him that much. Vale didn’t want to picture himself in a situation like the accident, but he was sure if something as terrible ever happened to him, he’d also want Gabe to be there.

Vale calmed and forced himself not to think about the blood and his brother when he approached the Porsche again. There were many chunks of broken glass from the driver side window on the black leather of the seats that had the blue stitching matching the outside of the car which Gabe had loved so much. Vale forced the door open wider before carefully sweeping the glass away from the driver’s seat so he could lean onto it with his hand and search the car. He went for the glovebox first, having to lift the passenger airbag out of the way to reach the latch that opened the compartment. Already his arm and back were hurting from the uncomfortable position, his feet on the ground outside while half his body leaned into the car that was quite low over the ground.

Cursing, Vale decided this wouldn’t work and gathered all his resolve before squeezing through the door completely and falling into the driver's seat. It felt horrible and wrong, like disturbing a crime scene, and it made the visions of the accident Vale had never seen even more vivid.

Suddenly sentimental, Vale raised his arms and wrapped his fingers around the cool and smooth leather of the steering wheel. Countless hours, Gabe had spent here, taking this car to every corner of London and beyond. Vale had never expressed interest in driving it himself, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t been there. He was quite sad, actually, that he’d never gotten an opportunity to take the Cayman for a spin. He’d ridden in it, sure, but only as a passenger. Well, that was a chance he missed for good, because this car wasn’t going anywhere on its own accord anymore.

Vale sighed and closed his eyes, trying to lock out all the destruction and irreversible damage. For just a moment, he allowed himself to imagine a brighter world where Gabe had never had the accident and he and himself drove the Cayman out to the countryside on a summer day to find some remote lake to go for a swim, or whatever, with himself behind the wheel. Surely, Gabe would ask him about a million times how it felt, and Vale would act all cool and unbothered, but in reality it would excite him to have all this power at his hands and feet. As he always did, Gabe would play the condescending know-it-all, lecturing Vale on what he was to do and what not to do, reprimanding him if he did something wrong in his eyes. And if Gabe kept that up long enough, Vale would tell him to shut up and let him drive, and Gabe would laugh and ignore him, going on and on until Vale would have enough and either stop the car, telling Gabe to drive himself if he couldn’t stand someone else doing it, or threaten to crash the Cayman into the nearest ditch if Gabe didn’t shut up.

Vale’s throat felt tight at that image. It was as if he could hear Gabe laugh for real, and feel the warmth of the sun on his face. He couldn’t understand why that couldn’t be the reality, why all this had to happen. It felt so unjust, so infinitely unfair.

He realized this was the first time he really allowed these feelings to bloom, emerge from his worries like butterflies from a chrysalis. He was so concerned about Gabe and his needs that he ignored his own, completely unaware of the fact that he had about as much to process as Gabe, leaving out the physical and mental trauma stemming from the accident itself.

But now, Vale felt it. He felt he was hurting as well, in pain when he thought about Gabe and what he was going through, but also because he selfishly missed his big brother, missed his laugh and that shit-eating grin of his. Missed his rants over his law studies and the constant bickering between the two. He missed making food for Gabe which he then praised to high heaven, missed his hugs and even how Gabe loved to mess up his hair, much to his dismay. He just wanted the old Gabe back, but he had no idea if that was even possible, if Gabe would ever be at least somewhat like before or if this current state was permanent.

Enough of that, Vale decided and his eyes snapped open, focusing on the spiderweb-lines of broken glass running through the windshield ahead. He let go of the steering wheel and felt compelled to wipe his hands on his dark gray jeans. Back to the task at hand, Vale returned his attention to the now open glovebox. The passenger airbag was in front of it again, so Vale decidedly pushed it upwards so it rested on the car’s dash and he could lean over the middle console and look in. The first thing he saw made him roll his eyes. Not one, not two, not three, not even four, but five condoms. Classic Gabe. The guy really had to get his dick wet any chance he got. Down bad for real. Vale supposed it was better to be safe than sorry, but even so, there were some things he’d really not like to think about, and one of them was the potentially copious amount of intercourse that went down in this car. And here he thought Gabe was in a relationship. What was up with that, anyways? He’d never met the ominous Kyle who Gabe had talked about more frequently before his accident. Actually Vale had thought Gabe didn’t do relationships, but apparently he’d changed his mind. He didn’t know, because since his accident, Vale hadn’t seen Gabe call or text anyone, really.

He shook his head and reached into the pocket of his jacket to pull out the folded up fabric bag he’d brought. This could very well be the last time anyone accessed the car so he figured he might as well get everything out of it. He tossed the condoms into the bag and found some hair ties as he did. Cute. Vale always found it funny when Gabe was so annoyed by his long hair that he tied it up in a ponytail or bun. Vale also came across some loose change. Well, to Gabe it probably was change, but it was quite a lot of money. Fives, tens, even a twenty or two, just carelessly thrown into the glovebox. Gabe had really gotten used to having more money than he could reasonably spend.

There were other random items strewn about; a phone charger, an almost empty water bottle, unused yet suspicious tissues, a not particularly clean rag Vale assumed Gabe used to wipe down whatever needed it, random packs of chewing gum, and more than one parking ticket he hoped Gabe had paid. Beneath it all, Vale found the Porsche’s manual in a sleek black cover. He opened it and there he found the certificate of insurance he was here to retrieve, and he saw it also contained the records of all the regular checkups the Cayman had gotten. Gabe had always been keeping up with that, taking care not to miss a single one, and if the check engine light even dared so much as flicker, he’d drag his car to his trusted speciality workshop to make sure everything was in order. Vale was sure no other car was as well taken care of as this one. Cay, as Gabe had endearingly called it. This Porsche could’ve stayed with Gabe for decades if it hadn’t been for the untimely accident.

Vale closed the manual booklet thing and put it in his bag. Good, that meant he already got what he came for. He shut the now empty glovebox, not that it mattered. With the state the vehicle was in, an open compartment more or less hardly made a difference.

Vale pulled the bag onto his lap and clawed at the fabric as his gaze once more fell on the sight before him, the broken glass of the windshield, the steering wheel, largely obscured by the airbag. A few droplets of blood had found their way on there as well, and it made him light-headed. He looked away, his eyes falling onto the central console of the car. The large infotainment system screen had loosened and fallen out of its place, a few gangly cables still connecting it to the inside of the car. Of the many, many buttons for the climate and radio controls inlaid in the silver plastic of the console, one was outright missing.

Vale wiped his face before remembering the compartment hidden away under the middle armrest. It was easy enough to get it open, and when Vale looked inside, he almost sobbed. With a shaky hand, he reached out and gingerly picked up the pair of sunglasses from within. Gabe’s old aviators, gold rimmed and hideously expensive way back when. He’d gotten them for some birthday, years ago, as a gift from none other than Vale himself.

In all this chaos, all this destruction, they had miraculously remained whole. Not even so much as a scratch was on the lenses. Vale looked at them for a good while, turning them in his hands, folding the side pieces away and back several times. What great significance this usual item suddenly gained. Proof that, no matter how frail things seemed, they could live through great struggles. Vale smiled lightly before sliding the sunglasses into the inside pocket of his jacket, for safekeeping.

After that, the cabin of the car had nothing left to offer. The Cayman was a two-seater, with little space to keep things. But Vale knew there were more storage options, two compartments in the nose and rear of the car, respectively. Unfortunately, they could only be accessed when the car was powered up, the lock mechanisms being controlled electronically. He did have the key, the Porsche-shaped key in the same blue as the car, but he didn’t know if the Cayman was in a state where there was any life left in it. Surely there was a way to get the compartments open manually, but Vale wasn’t sure if it was worth the effort. Gabe had never had a tendency to leave things in his car, at most a sweater or blanket for the colder nights, and the cleaning set he got from Azura half a year ago on Christmas. Gabe didn’t like the clutter. In the summer, he washed his car once a week at least, and after every drive longer than an hour. The inside was always spotless and dust free. The easiest way to piss him off was to get into the Porsche with dirty shoes. Or, better yet, touching the window when you closed the door. Just one time, Vale had made that mistake, and Gabe had forced him to wipe away the fingerprints he’d left on the glass.

Vale got out of the car and felt compelled to push the door back closed, as if it mattered. What to do now? He began to make his way back, clutching his cotton bag, but he looked over his shoulder and knew he wasn’t ready yet.

He supposed the least he could do was to remember it, remember it all, so instead of walking away, he made his way to the back of the car, the one side he hadn’t yet seen. He walked past the right rear wheel that was half torn from the axle, leaning away from the vehicle at an unnatural angle that couldn’t be chalked up to the great maneuverability of the car. It looked depressing, really. The shiny black paint on the rim was scratched up, even the actual material of it had been worn away where the worst scratches were. the place where the wheel should’ve been was a mess of broken parts of the suspension. The coil of the shock absorber was gone, too.

Vale kept walking until he stood at the car’s back end. Here, the two sides of the car - one almost whole, the other a mess of broken metal and plastic - met in the middle under the intact lettering. ‘718 Cayman S,’ it said in black. It looked odd how there was this stripe of unscathed material when below, the whole bumper was torn off, and above, the large back glass panel was so broken it had stopped being see-through and only barely hung in its place.

‘Oh, Cay,’ Vale thought as he walked back to his previous position next to the car so he could take in the full sight one last time.

He stared at all the sharp edges, reminisced over the good memories tied to it. Of leisurely cruises on hot summer days, midnight snack runs when Gabe had had some craving and hadn’t felt like going out alone, the one time in winter where it had been raining all day and then rapidly cooled at night and Gabe had barged into his room and forced him to come with him to a Tesco parking lot that was covered in ice so he could record Gabe’s (attempts at) sick drifts.

On the other hand, Vale imagined the terrors this car had gone through with his brother inside. The crashing, bursting, screeching, shattering, bending. Everything that had gone so wrong, yet somehow just right at the same time. The car was totaled, but the security systems had saved Gabe. The door had bent to smash Gabe’s hand, yet also held the pressure on it so he didn’t succumb to a critical loss of blood. The fuel tank had suffered a leak, gasoline flowing everywhere, yet none of the sensitive electronics had produced a spark, so no fire broke out.

Although it hurt him, every misplaced sharp edge the Cayman now had felt like it nicked his skin just from looking at it, he couldn’t leave the car here so unceremoniously. It was as if he had to say farewell, to somewhat of a loyal friend. He felt stupid for it, stupid for that sentimentality over an inanimate object, but to Gabe, this had never been “just a car”. And now Vale felt it wasn’t to him, either.

It was all too much. Vale smiled while he felt his throat grow so tight and tears well up in his eyes that didn’t stray from the wreckage. He felt he had to say something, anything, after all, this was somewhat of a sendoff. Not very festive, but touching nonetheless.

So he whispered a quiet and shy, “Thank you. For saving my brother’s life.”

With that, he went back to the front of the scrapyard, holding out his hand as he walked past the hood so his fingers ghosted over the cold, smooth paint, then the textured ridges of the Porsche crest.

And he left the Porsche Cayman behind, the car that would forever be so much more than just a car.

FIN

#does tumblr like creative writing?#story #short story #creative writing #porsche #angst #sad stories #vale is the guy in my pfp btw #author #maybe i am treating my blog like an archive #so what?#writers on tumblr #writerscorner

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awesomeforever · 2 years ago

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On Assignment For HuffPost Have you been slacking in the posture department? Thanks to our smartphones, iPads and more, many of us spend our days with our necks craning down to stare at our devices. Working from home has also created complications, affectionately referred to by experts as “pandemic posture.” Fixing your posture can not only relieve back or neck pain, “it can also have a significant impact on all things related to our respiratory function, core and pelvic health,” explained Trista Zinn, a trainer and founder of Coreset Fitness. Taking tiny steps toward improving your posture is the best way to go. Here are 16 exercises to try to help get you standing and sitting straighter. “This exercise works all the muscles of the back, and helps counterbalance the weight of the chest and support the spine,” explained Sebastien Lagree, a trainer and founder of Lagree Fitness. Sit cross-legged or straddle a bench with cables or bands wrapped around a doorknob or floor mount in front of you. Next, pull the handles back toward your rib cage. “As you continue to pull the handles toward you, focus on lifting the spine or sitting taller,” Lagree said. “Each time you pull the handles in, aim to sit higher.” If you don’t have a cable system at home, or access to a gym, grab some free weights and perform bent-over rows. “Strengthening the muscles that retract the scapula leads to better posture,” said Dr. Alejandro Badia, an orthopedic surgeon in Miami. “This also helps avoid shoulder pain, which often occurs when we slouch or work in a slumped position.” Bend your knees and lean your upper body forward, keeping a straight spine. Start with your arms straight down in front of you with your palms facing your body, then pull the weights back, squeezing your shoulder blades together at the top. Try not to over-extend the movement: Stop right when you get to where your pockets would be on your pants ― i.e., near your hips. Lower your weights and repeat the movement. This is an equipment-free exercise, and a popular yoga move. Get into an all-fours position on your hands and knees. From here, arch your back, bringing your chest and head up while your stomach drops down. “You then move the opposite way, round your back towards the ceiling, bring your stomach in and your chin to your chest,” said Joy Puleo, a pilates instructor and Balanced Body Education Program Manager. Hold each position for a second or two and repeat eight to 10 times. This exercise, she said, can provide a good stretch on the front of your body where muscles are tight, as well as strengthen the back muscles to help maintain a good posture. For this exercise, you’ll need a resistance band. “Hold the band with straight arms in front of you at chest level,” Puleo said. “Retract your shoulders back, keep your core tight and your spine neutral, and pull the band apart so your hands go out in opposite directions.” This exercise stretches the tight chest muscles and strengthens the underworked back muscles. Puleo said to aim for 10-15 reps, rest for a minute, and repeat for a total of three rounds. “Since the chest is usually tight in a person with bad posture, doing a doorway stretch can truly help loosen those muscles and make it easier to maintain a good posture throughout the day,” Puleo explained. Place your hands and elbows on a door frame, and take a small step forward until you feel a stretch at the chest. Hold the stretch for 15-25 seconds, take a minute of rest, and repeat as needed. This exercise strengthens the erector spinae muscles, which are responsible for helping the body to extend and rotate the spine. “This move does not require any apparatus and can be done on the floor,” Lagree said. Lie face down on a mat. Keep your arms alongside your body, and slowly lift your head and chest off the floor. Repeat for 30-60 seconds. Badia said this exercise strengthens the paraspinal muscles that support your back and hamstrings, all of which help posture.

Stand with your feet slightly wider than shoulder width. Hold free weights in front of your thighs ― you can also perform the move with just your body weight. “Make sure your back is not arched, feet are flat and your butt is pushed back,” Badia explained. Keep your shoulders straight and push your hips back, with your knees slightly bent, lower the weights below your knees, keeping them as close to your body as possible. Then stand back up. When sitting or working at a computer all day, people’s posture tends to become hunched and their shoulders rounded forward. “Shoulder blade squeezes strengthen muscles in the upper back that hold the upper body in good posture,” said Kandis Daroski, a physical therapist with Hinge Health. To perform these, stand or sit up straight with your arms by your side and elbows bent. Squeeze your shoulder blades together and down your back. Hold for five seconds. Relax your arms and shoulders. Repeat 10-15 times. “In order to assume or get into good posture, one must have the necessary flexibility and mobility,” Daroski said. The open book exercise, she explained, improves mobility of the upper back and neck and provides a gentle stretch to the front of the shoulders. Start by lying on your side with knees bent, arms extended in front of your chest, and hands together. Keeping your legs together, slowly raise your top arm and rotate your trunk open. Follow your moving hand with your eye gaze to rotate the neck as well. Hold for five seconds in the open position and perform 10 times on each side. “This is a great exercise to start or end your day with,” Daroski said. “Try performing it in bed.” Daroski said chin tucks are a great way to negate the effects of forward head posture. “They help strengthen muscles deep within the neck that keep the head pulled back in good posture,” she said. Begin in a lying down or standing position. Slowly draw your head back so your ears line up with your shoulders; this is a small movement. Hold this position for five seconds. Repeat for five to 10 repetitions. “With prolonged sitting or standing in poor posture, the muscles of the abdomen can become weak, which allows for an increase in the arch of the low back,” Daroski said. Abdominal bracing can help improve the strength of the core muscles by providing support to your low back and improving your standing posture, she explained. Lie on your back with your knees bent and your feet flat on the floor. Next, engage your abdominal muscles as though you are pulling your belly button toward your spine. Hold for five seconds, then repeat 10-15 times. “This exercise can also be performed in a sitting or standing position,” Daroski said. Shoulder shrugs are another exercise that can help target tech neck. These exercises “relax and loosen up neck muscles, like the trapezius, that can be overworked while the neck is in a forward position,” explained Dr. Oluseun Olufade, an assistant professor of orthopedics at Emory School of Medicine and an adviser to BackEmbrace. Raise your shoulders up toward your ears. Shrug both shoulders at the same time and hold for three seconds. Try three sets of 10 reps, twice a day. “This opens up the chest and stretches the front of the shoulders, helping to improve posture,” said Alissa Tucker, a certified personal trainer and master trainer at AKT. Begin sitting or standing tall. Roll your shoulders down and back and clasp your hands behind back. Hold for up to 30 seconds. This is a great stretch that can be performed during the workday, Tucker said. “Repeat multiple times a day while at your desk.” “This can be done lying on the floor with a foam roller or seated at your desk, using the back of the chair,” Tucker explained. Begin seated with the foam roller or chair at ― or just under ― your shoulder blades. Bring both hands behind your head and draw the elbows in toward your face. Keep your abs engaged and your lower back straight as you lean back over the chair or foam roller, then slowly return to your starting position, bringing your chin toward your chest.

Move slowly and repeat eight to 10 times. “This stretch is great for counteracting the rounded forward position of the thoracic spine by bringing the thoracic spine into a little bit of extension,” Tucker said. This is another exercise you can do seated at your desk. “I like to use a small towel for this one, though it can be done without,” Tucker said. Sit up tall, place the towel on the back of your head, holding it with both hands by your ears. Press the head back into the towel and hold for five seconds then release. Repeat 10-15 times. Tucker said to be careful that you’re not holding too much tension in your neck during this exercise. “It should be a gentle movement,” she explained. “This strengthens the deep flexor muscles in the back of the neck to help keep the neck in proper alignment over the shoulders.” Remember making snow angels as a kid? This is a similar idea and is “a great exercise for shoulder mobility,” said Joshua Kozak, CEO of the online fitness center HASfit. Lie down on your back with your hands above your hand, elbows flat down on the ground and palms facing upward. “Drag those elbows and your hands straight down into your body while keeping your arms flat on the ground,” Kozak said. “When you reach the furthest point, stretch them straight overhead.” Try your best to keep contact with your arms and the floor and your lower back flat on the ground throughout the move. On Assignment For HuffPost source

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highserviceglass · 4 years ago

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tmdoors · 4 years ago

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wolferine · 3 years ago

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Heart Skips a Beat - Part 3

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha faces her worst nightmare when a rescue mission goes wrong…

Warnings: Violence, blood

Word Count: 2065

Part 2

Tags: @blkmxrvel @blackxwidowsxwife @marvelwomen-simp @phoenixofash @marvels-bitch-boy @when-wolves-howl

Despite your super soldier enhancements, it takes a few days before you’re cleared from the medical bay. The bullets you had been shot with were identified as hollow point sniper rounds—basically the biggest, baddest of the bunch. If you had been a normal human, your insides would’ve been shredded to pieces and you would’ve died before you even hit the ground.

You’re retired to light duty while you recover, which is painfully boring and dull. You attend physical therapy to strengthen your body, but sometimes you push yourself too hard and stumble back to your and Natasha’s room with blood staining through your bandages. She always chastises you for hurting yourself, but secretly admires your dedication and will never pass up the opportunity to help take care of you.

One week after the condominium collapse, you join Steve, Clint, and Natasha for a private meeting with members of the Miami Police Department and the FBI. As Steve had suspected, the collapse wasn’t an accident. Someone had deliberately taken out the concrete supports in the parking garage with explosives.

“We couldn’t have just phoned that in?” you whine from the backseat. Clint is in the driver’s seat, Steve next to him. You and Natasha sit in the back. “I mean, they drag us all the way across the city, just to tell us something they could’ve sent over text—”

“Information like that, the less people to intercept the message, the better,” Steve mutters, staring out the window as the car zooms down the highway.

“I don’t know about that,” you dismiss, and Natasha side-eyes you. She knows you’re just cranky because Steve interrupted your morning cuddle with her. There isn’t much you can do intimately when you can barely twist your torso, so you have to make due with what you can.

“You know, Y/N, you are the one this guy’s after,” Clint points out. “So, if anything, you’re the only one that needed to show up.”

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes. “You’re just jealous you don’t have a psychopath coming after you—”

THUD.

Everyone’s head turns to the roof of the car. You swear you see the imprint of a hand dented in the metal.

“What the—”

Natasha suddenly leaps out of her seat and into your lap. She wraps her arms around your neck, yanking your head down.

“Hey!” you shout in protest, but then you hear a bullet whiz behind your head and feel the foam of the headrest cushion spray the back of your neck. Still in your lap, Natasha kicks Steve’s shoulder, causing him to hit his head against the window before a bullet zings through his headrest. Following her example, you kick Clint’s seat and he jolts forward, the bullet missing his head by inches.

“Stop the car!” Steve yells, crunching the gear shift into park.

The tires burn rubber and the car slides back and forth before coming to a grinding halt. Cars behind you honk and swerve around you. A figure goes flying off the roof of the car and lands in the road, rolling to their feet. They wear a black vest, revealing their left arm to be completely made out of metal overlapping plates. Their hair is chin-length and a mask covers the lower half of their face.

Suddenly, an 18-wheeler semi-truck, unable to stop in time, slams into the back of the car. The trunk crumples like an accordion, and you instinctively tighten your grip around Natasha to shield her in case the semi-truck tears the car in half. But it doesn’t, instead pushing your car towards the masked figure, who doesn’t even bother to step out of your path.

They jump onto the hood and punch their metal arm through the windshield, grabbing the steering wheel and tearing it right out of the car. When the masked figure disappears onto the roof, Natasha takes out her gun and starts shooting, but her efforts are fruitless.

There’s no way for Clint to control the direction of the car anymore and it’s too dangerous to stay inside with the masked figure close by.

“Hang on!” Steve says, reaching across the front to grab Clint. In the same motion, he slams his shoulder into his door, knocking it off its hinges. Both men go flying out of the car.

“That looks like a good idea,” you mumble, anchoring your arm to your own car door, the other pressing Natasha against you as tightly as you can. “Hold on, babe.” You ram your shoulder into the door with all your strength, ignoring the pain that rips through your stomach.

The door tears away from the car and turns into a makeshift sled as you go skidding down the highway. Sparks fly from the grinding contact of metal on the concrete road. When you finally come to a stop, Natasha stays on top of you, drawing her weapon and scanning for the masked figure.

Meanwhile, the masked figure has hijacked the semi-truck, but instead of plowing you over, they turn to tip the entire vehicle over so it blocks every single lane of the highway.

“Where are they?” you pant, trying to lift your head to see the commotion but Natasha forces your head back into the car door. “Nat, stop—”

“No!” she says. “They’re after you, remember?”

You don’t like the idea of her risking herself for you, but it’s a sweet gesture.

“Where are they?” you ask, unable to see.

“I…I don’t…” Natasha sounds confused. Suddenly, she takes off without warning. You don’t question it and run after her. Steve and Clint are engaged in an intense hand-to-hand match with the masked figure. The masked figure knocks Steve to the ground and wraps their metal hand around Clint’s neck, lifting him off the ground.

You put on a burst of speed, overtaking Natasha and launching yourself at the masked figure’s metal arm. They drop Clint instantly and you wrap your arms around the metal one, but it’s like trying to contain a bucking bull. You jerk your elbow back into their face to stun them, but it has no effect. The masked figure flings out their metal arm and you lose your grip.

You crash into the concrete highway dividers and the impact almost knocks you out. You feel your stitches tear open and you start bleeding underneath your shirt. As you stagger to your feet, you see the masked figure over Natasha, pinning her down and pulling their metal arm back, ready to deal the killing blow—

“No!” you scream, charging towards them. You catch the masked figure’s metal arm again, locking out their elbow and holding it against your chest. Natasha rolls out of harm’s way and Clint jumps into the action, launching himself at the masked figure’s legs and sending all three of you to the ground.

Natasha swings her leg around and kicks the masked figure in the face. The mask falls off. You and Clint struggle to hold them down as Steve walks up, blood dripping from a cut in his forehead.

“Bucky?” Steve says suddenly, stopping in his tracks.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” the man snarls.

“Help!” you choke, not sure how much longer you can hold on to his writhing metal arm. But Steve is frozen the same way Natasha had been when she saw you get shot. “You need to get in here, Steve!” you yell, and suddenly Bucky goes limp. You and Clint exchange confused glances.

“Wait, what?” Clint says.

“What happened?” you ask, hesitantly releasing the metal arm, which flops to the ground. “Why’d he just stop like that? Did I say his safe word or something?”

“What, ‘Steve?’” Clint laughs in spite of the tense situation.

“Apparently.”

Steve is in too much shock to bite back at your jibe.

“I’ll call for reinforcements.” Natasha takes charge. “We’ll bring him back to the Tower.” She comes over to you and touches your side gently, reminding you of the blood staining through your shirt.

“I’m fine,” you assure her, reaching out to run your thumb over the bruise forming under her eye. She closes her eyes and leans into your touch. “Let’s hope that Steve is, too.”

***********************************************************************

Bucky is detained in the holding cell at the Tower and Steve goes to speak with him privately. Afterwards, he regroups with the rest of you. Clint relaxes at the kitchen counter with a beer, while you and Natasha sit on the couch together. She holds an ice pack against your stomach and frets over the fresh swelling in your shoulder.

“So, I’ve got some good and bad news,” Steve says.

“You can start by telling us who that guy is,” Clint interrupts.

Steve shifts uncomfortably. “He’s…an old friend of mine. My best friend, actually—”

“You know, that’s the same thing people thought about me and Nat at first, but obviously we’re more than that—” you start.

“Bucky was also involved in the super soldier program,” Steve continues, ignoring your comment. “But he was under HYDRA’s control for decades. They were the ones who sent him after us. And…” Steve takes a breath, “We were wrong about who his target was. He wasn’t after you, Y/N. He was after me.”

“But he shot Y/N,” Natasha says.

“Twice,” you add.

“No.” Steve shakes his head. “Bucky was trying to shoot me. Y/N was just in the way.”

“In the way?” Steve’s logic—or lack of it—makes your head hurt. But as Natasha thinks about it—she’s always been the smarter one in the relationship—it makes complete sense. Her mind flashbacks to the scene of the condominium collapse, where all four of you had gathered on the street after you rescued the last victim. Her and Steve stood across from you and Clint. The bullets had come from behind you—if you hadn’t been standing where you were, Steve would have been hit instead.

“I don’t think you would remember this part, Y/N, but when Nat and I were trying to get you in the ambulance, we were shot at two more times,” Steve explained. “But the bullets hit the sideview mirror and the windshield. Those were places I was in, not you.”

“Okay, so why’s he trying to kill you if you’re his best friend?” you ask.

“It’s all HYDRA’s doing. He told me he’s part of a task force that was created to kill off the Avengers. Specifically, the original six, so there’s six of them in the task force. He’s the only one that got out, and he said the other five are being held in a facility in Siberia. He wants our help to free them,” Steve says.

“So, this Bucky guy wants to work with us now? After he took down a 12-story condominium and almost killed Y/N while trying to kill you?” Clint asks.

“Please, Clint,” Steve begs. “Bucky’s my best friend—”

“A best friend who tried to kill Y/N! And you!” Natasha argues. She lowers the ice pack from your stomach and you frown at the loss of contact. “You know I love you, Steve—”

“Not as much as me,” you mutter under your breath, guiding her hand to put the ice pack back against your side.

“—But I’m gonna need you to do a little better than that.”

“I need you all to trust me,” Steve pleads. “If we have intel telling us that there are five super soldiers in existence, who are programmed to take down the Avengers, isn’t it on us to do something about it?”

“How do we know we can trust Bucky?” Clint asks.

“Well, if he does go rogue, at least we know his safe word,” you answer with a chuckle.

“If you trust me, you’ll trust him,” Steve promises.

You glance at Natasha, who is looking at the floor, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You stretch your arm over her shoulder, pulling her towards you and bumping your heads together.

“What should we do?” you whisper so quietly only she can hear.

Her free arm snakes around your waist, closing the gap between you and her, your bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. She rests her head against your shoulder. “Trust Steve,” she says.

“Okay.” That’s enough of an answer for you. You press a soft kiss to her temple and look back at Steve. “So, what did you have in mind?”

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

Click here for Part 4!

AN: I love taking inspiration from many places, and the inspiration for this part is the awesome fight on the highway from Captain America: Winter Soldier. Thank you to everyone for the continued support!

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff #black widow #black widow fanfiction #marvel

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pedropascalunofficial · 5 years ago

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My Cousin, Pedro Pascal

Ximena Riquelme

16 NOV 2017 12:53 PM

Before being the protagonist of Narcos or filming with Colin Firth, José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal (42) was a child whom I knew very well because we are from the same family. A man who today looks with nostalgia and some perplexity at his place of origin and his history and who still does not answer what would have happened if he had stayed here.

The first memory I have of Pedro is in the arms of my mother during his baptism, in the garden of my house. She was a weeping bus and had huge black eyes. I was 9 years old. It was cloudy. Years later I learned that the priest was Gerardo Whelan, the legendary rector of Saint George's College. Pedro's parents were not at his baptism: my uncle, José Balmaceda, my mother's only male brother, and his wife Verónica Pascal were asylees at the Venezuelan embassy, which was on Bustos street, near my house. Pepe, as we used to say to my uncle, who years later would become a famous gynecologist, an expert in fertilization, was then a 27-year-old young doctor, in those days wanted by Dina. Some time before they had hidden Andrés Pascal Allende, Mirista and his wife's uncle. One day they came to take him to the José Joaquín Aguirre Hospital and he managed to escape by jumping through the roofs. It was October 1975.

Like most of the Chilean families, there were supporters of both sides in mine: for and against Pinochet. Trying to help Pedro's parents, my dad called a relative who held a high position in the Army. "Tell the children to get asylum, because I cannot guarantee their lives or that nothing happens to Veronica," was his reply. She was 22 years old. Then began the journey of my uncles and with them that of my cousin José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal. Pepe and Verónica had to start living secretly in different houses. Pedro, who was only 6 months old at the time, and his 3-year-old sister Javiera were left in charge of my mother's older sister, "Aunt Juani."

The second memory I have of Pedro is when I accompanied my parents, who carried him and his sister in their arms, to stand on the sidewalk in front of the Venezuelan embassy so that their parents could see them through the window.

My uncles left the Venezuelan embassy for the airport in January 1976, Pedro was 9 months old and obviously does not remember anything. I just remember that they didn't let me go. Pedro could not record the image, which I could not see, of his grandfather Luis Pascal Vigil - a very prominent lawyer - singing the National Anthem on the balcony of Pudahuel. A memory that is not mine but that I adopted, for cute.

As the people of the International Red Cross advised our family on time, Pedro and his sister did not leave the embassy with their parents, but arrived directly at the airport: this allowed their passports not to be stamped with the "L" for " limited to circulate "that stamped on the exiles who left. Therefore, the years that Pedro and Javiera came could come to Chile without problems. And for that reason, the choclón of cousins, we were able to share long summers in Pucón and some winters in Santiago.

The Balmaceda Pascal first arrived in Aarhus, Denmark, in October 1976. A year later they left for San Antonio, Texas, where Pedro's father was able to continue improving himself thanks to a grant from the Rockefeller Foundation. Veronica earned a PhD in Child Psychology.

________________________________________

"But Denmark is invisible to me," Pedro writes me by email. A while ago I proposed to interview him at a distance to travel a little about his history, and here we are, in front of the computer, sharing memories. "It is invisible to me, like everything that happened before. Although once, after telling him about my childhood, a doctor told me that the temporary separation with my mother was trapped in the memory of my body and that I could remember it through the senses".

My cousin, far away

The third memory I have of Pedro is a summer in Pucón. It must have been in 1978. "Pepelo", as we said, was no longer a guagua but a restless, very blond boy, who was so impacted by poverty in Chile that when he went out on the street with his gringo accent, he asked any person: "Are you poor?" He took food out of the pantry and gave it away. With my cousins we rented a warm wooden house, colorful, with the door frames out of square. It was summers with trips to those black sand beaches that burned the feet and picnics in Caburgua with lamb on the stick. They took us to mass and Pedro sang very inspired.

"This is where the memories become more vivid, like dreams," he writes. "I remember so many details: my older cousins, children my age who were like family. The beach seemed endless. I also remember running down the hallways and stairs of Aunt Juani's house looking for Santa Claus at Christmas."

XR: What was it like leaving your parents in the United States?

PP: "I think the trauma was going back to the States, although I obviously wanted to be with my parents. But childhood in Chile, with the Balmaceda and Pascal, was a dream, a world where nothing was missing, pure adventure and love."

Now that he tells me that, I remember that image of Pedro hanging on the neck of our aunt Juani, crying in Pudahuel because she did not want to return. At that time going to the airport was a panorama: we were going en masse to leave him and his sister, who traveled in charge of the stewardesses.

In 1981 I went with my parents and my two sisters to see the Balmaceda Pascal in Texas. I remember an eternal road trip from Miami, I remember Pedro's house, in a middle-class neighborhood, comfortable, beautiful, lovingly arranged by his mother. I remember the tears of my mother and Pedro's mother when we said goodbye to return to Chile. We still didn't know when they could return. Although Pedro never fully returned.

In December 1983, Pepe and Verónica were able to enter Chile. The whole family was packed on the terrace of Pudahuel, waiting for them. I remember the Balmaceda Pascal walking from the stairs of the plane to the International Police. I remember them happy, triumphant. Pedro was 8 years old and chose to stay in my house, in love with my girl sister.

We all went to Quintero, to the house of our grandfather Pepe, a great smoker, tennis player, and fanatic fanatic who took us to the town cinema to see double Tora! Programs, Tora !, Tora! More Bridges on the River Kwai and other old movies. Surely Pedro had to see several. Since he was a boy he said he wanted to be a "director". He liked horror movies and was a big movie consumer, like his dad.

PP: "I remember going to the movies with the cousins and the grandfather to see anything with Clint Eastwood, Sylvester Stallone. They leased me VHS movies to see alone and happy."

XR: You once recited Hamlet on the beach with Grandpa.

PP: "No, it was Death of a Salesman, by Arthur Miller. I was about 14 years old. I videotaped it and lost the fucking camera on the trip back to the United States."

After that summer, Pedro began to come more sporadically. He was already grown up, at school and then at university. They had moved to Newport Beach, California. His father was doing very well. But Pedro, not so much.

PP: "I think that the way the family supported me in Chile was the opposite of what I experienced in Newport Beach. I started well in California but at 13 years old, very involved in the cinema, reading plays, books, TV, TV, TV, obsessed with these things, I had the bad luck to find few like me. It was a world very attached to conservatism and its privileges where not fitting was punished. There was a group of shitty goats who were my friends the first year and became my terrors thereafter. I don't enjoy remembering that time, but there are deep connections from back then. Friends of my parents who are like parents until today."

Pedro's mom soon found a performance arts program at a high school in another district. A more inclusive school compared to Corona del Mar, the neighborhood where they lived in Newport.

PP: "My mom and my driver's license were my salvation. There I was able to unleash my appetite for movies and theater without limits."

As time went by Pedro became a fun, provocative teenager with character. He said he was "lazy", but he went to study Theater at NYU in 1993 and he loved it. I started to see it less. When he came to Chile he went out with his friends, I was already married and having children.

XR: Did you find that our way of life was very boring?

PP: "Bored, no. But overwhelming regarding life's permanent decisions. I didn't have the Catholic structure, and I felt there was no room for a young guy like me. Like suddenly, from one trip of mine to another, you had lives that included marriages and children, and pleasing the visits of the gringo cousin was no longer an option for all of you. I had to duel, because I was jealous of his inattention."

XR: Do you find us very conservative?

PP: "Yes, but it is a major contradiction for me. I come from the perspective that no one can decide how someone else should live their life. And well, in our family there are social rules that are very firm. I think that a person has the right to live his life conservatively or wildly as long as he does not negatively impact anyone or tries to embarrass others by his lifestyle. I don't touch these issues very much with our family for fear of hearing their perspective, but what I do know is that if I ever needed help I could ask any member of our family by the name of Balmaceda, and I would get it."

In 1995, Pedro's parents returned to Chile with their two youngest children, Nicolás and Lucas, who had been born in California. Javiera also came for a couple of years. Pedro stayed in the United States.

PP: "It was a very scary period. I grew up with my family in the United States and from one day to the next there was no home to return to. Suddenly the idea of the safe nest was gone. It was shocking because in previous years I took for granted the privileged life we had in California. I never thought that this could change as suddenly as happened to my parents when they became exiles. Everything felt fragile. Also, I knew that my parents' marriage was wrong and that the tension of those circumstances was hardly going to end. My mother's life felt in danger and the line between needing her, being there for her and finishing my studies and pursuing a career was a horrible conflict. I knew that my mom wanted me to continue doing mine, she never would have wanted me to sacrifice it."

XR: Did you really resent the failure of your parents' marriage?

PP: "For me it was the hardest time. I have not been able, and I do not know if someday I will be able to reconcile completely how my parents separated and the tragedy that came after that separation. The circumstances of my mother's death made it very hard for us to keep her memory of who she was. It hurts so much ... Sometimes I feel distressed and try to face it in the best possible way, because I know that my mother would not like me to do it in any other way."

Pedro lost his mother when he was 24 years old.

PP: "It's hard to say what I remember most about her. You met her, so it is easy for you to understand that she was the love of my life. I think of her every day. Since I don't pray, I can't say that I have a practice to feel her close, but I live for her even though she's gone, and that makes sense to me."

From Alexander to Pedro

XR: Do you believe that pain makes us stronger or does it seem like a horrible cliché?

PP: "I don't think it's a terrible cliche but a profound reality. In some way, losing the most important person in your life, discovering that something like this is possible and that what you fear most in life can happen is an identifiable and permanent moment. There is a before and after after his death. I think, yes, that old age would not have been for my mother, there would have been no footwear with her. Of course, no one wants to grow old, but others can handle it better. I would not have liked to see my mom struggling with it, but at the same time, I wish I had her every day still with me."

It may have been the summer of 2012. Pedro said to our aunt Juani: "I am 37 years old and I still can't get what I want. And it's the only thing I know how to do." It had been a long time since the death of his mother in the summer of 2000 that Pedro had changed his name. From Pedro Balmaceda to Pedro Pascal. He had been searching for years, years of casting where, by being called Pedro Balmaceda in the studios, they hoped to find a Latin or classic Mexican phenotype. He had only made minor appearances in some series.

XR: Although you did not regret it, you did wear Alexander at some point. Why?

PP: "That was a desperate period and directly related to having lost my mother. I was desperate to work, to fill my days with something more to suffer. To eliminate the confusion that casting directors had with this guy named Pedro with European or Caucasian traits, I changed my first name to Alexander and took my mom's last name, Pascal. That only lasted a year, until I was able to find a job and be selected for an Ibsen theatrical classic. But it was too late for people to identify me as "Alex". Also, my mom named me Pedro. So the decision was to call me Pedro Pascal, a name that fits with me more than any other."

Soon after that came Brothers and Sisters, other small roles, and later more important ones in The Good Wife, The Law and Order, The Mentalist, until Game of Thrones, Narcos in 2015 and now, filming Muralla china with Matt Damon and William Dafoe - last year we all went to see his cousins together - and then Kingsman 2 with Colin Firth, Julianne Moore, Jeff Bridges, Halle Berry and Channing Tatum.

XR : Have you ever been excited acting with such powerful actors?

PP: "I have been thrilled with everyone."

With fame have come the new meetings of the cousins with Pedro Pascal. We all want to see him, take pictures of us, we ask him for greetings-chub for friends, we inflate ourselves by saying that he is our cousin. That Peña, the protagonist of Narcos and the sexiest guy in the world, is my cousin-brother. He laughs and humorously calls us "scoundrels" because now we remember him. In fact, that's what our cousin chat on Whastapp is called.

But there is also the modesty to disturb him. Know that you are busy. That while I'm sending you these questions, you're filming in Boston with Denzel Washington. And to feel that there is always a lack of time to speak to him calmly, a space to ask him questions like the ones that occur to me now:

XR: Exile changed your life. Can you imagine growing up in Chile?

PP: "I don't know, because I haven't thought much about it. I have been asked this question all my life and have never been able to come up with an answer. Perhaps my life would have been more complete and solid. What I am used to is that the past disappears as if it had been lived by someone else, in another time."

XR: Do you miss something from when you were Pedro Balmaceda?

PP: "You know? There is very little difference between Pedro Balmaceda and Pedro Pascal. As it is all part of José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal, I feel the same person. But with back problems and more money."

XR: Would you like to start a family?

PP: "Being a dad? I don't know. I have no fucking idea. I love being an uncle. It may just end there. But anything is possible."

XR: Marialy Rivas said something very nice about you on Saturday: that when you play a character, you pretend that this character brought a whole previous story, much bigger than what they are telling. And it's true: you carry a bigger story than you tell it.

PP: "I don't know, cousin. I am very confused trying to organize the past and see what turns out. It helps me understand the pain or be grateful for what I have. Sometimes I feel like I'm a fraud, living between waiting for fame and attention and completely embarrassed by these wishes.

In reference to what Marialy said, I think she means that I put all my confusion, joy and sorrow, ambivalence, hostility, rage, love, lust, greed, compassion, ignorance, knowledge either to indicate a map with the finger on Narcos, throwing an arrow in Game of Thrones, lashing out at Kingsman. Cool! But I think my experience in theater taught me that."

XR: Would you someday like your life to be a script?

PP: "No way." (in english)

XR: Do you still want to be a "director", as you used to say when you were a kid?

PP: "Yes! That will be my way of being a father. Father of a production."

XR: Is dreaming about an Oscar the dream of every actor, even if you don't confess it?

PP: "I confess that possibly… yes."

#pedro pascal #cousin #la tercera #2017 #family #mother #father #asylum #embassy #pedro pascal article #article #javiera balmeceda #peter balmaceda #cousins #pp article

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dashhoney25 · 4 years ago

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Mine

--hello darlings! I am so honored & pleased to introduce my collab with @soufcakmistress , this beautiful gem right here is a freaking QUEEN! It’s such a pleasure to write with her and we cannot wait to bless ya’ll with this right here! I only act a fool when she comes around and trust me ya’ll are in for a treat! This is @soufcakmistress world right now and I’m just living in it! The plot is so 90′s yet still modern, and of course what’s a story without Erik? Tune in to find out what Erik’s got Noelle & Remi entangled into!

WARNINGS: SMUT; GIRL ON GIRL (Ya’ll, this is pretty hot if I do say so myself.I’m not into chicks, but I give credit when due, this chapter is hot!)

Don’t forget to LIKE, COMMENT, & REBLOG

*click hyperlink to find out who “her” is*

The millions of nerve endings in your body were intensified by the sensation as the neurons in your brain attempted to register the exhilarating dual stimulation. Your tipsy eyes fluttered as your mouth formed a permanent “O”. Sensual moans filled the room as your eyes struggled to stay focused on the scandalous site before you. With your body in her arms while she held the back of your thighs by your ears, Erik pounded away at your hidden desire as your toes curled to the ceiling. Your head fell back into her chest, looking up to see her smiling at you seductively. Biting your bottom lip, she leaned down to kiss you, tongue wrestling with you while you caressed her neck. Low grunts ensued between you as she bit your lip in between kisses. Still holding your legs for support, she lowered your right leg onto Erik’s shoulder and wrapped her hands around you to pleasure your clit, teasing you.

“Mhmmm” you let out pulling away from the kiss. Grinning in delight, she licked the right side of your neck, sucking it passionately, moving her hand from your clit to your hardened nipples. “Fuck” you breathed out. Still stroking away, Erik’s eyes fell on the two of you as you turned your head to kiss her. Erik bit his bottom lip and raised his brow enjoying the sight. “You know you gotta share right?” He interjected. She pulled away from you, “Sorry” she grinned looking at Erik. “Now where were we?” Erik asked as he watched her move to the back of the bed. Your eyes fell on him and he entered your roughly, kissing you hungrily as he laid your body into the bed. Your hands made a mess of his dreads as your body was building up momentum to his harsh strokes, yanking your body up behind all of his power. You were feeling the impact of 9 inches of hard dick repeatedly stretching your pussy out indefinitely. Clawing at Erik’s back as his dick massages your tight folds, it made you even wetter knowing that you had an audience; an attractive one at that watching you.

You’d never been involved in a situation like this, especially not sober. You’d never been with a woman, not even a simple kiss. Your straight laced demeanor and good girl image was tainted tonight with the aid of liquid courage, and a strong milk chocolate man to guide you down this seductive charade of a rabbit hole; leaving your inhibitions up to free will. Standing 5’4 with caramel skin, her curves were immaculate whether heaven sent or Dr. Miami gifted her silhouette was alluring. Her perfectly crafted body consisted of tattoos in various locations, but the tattoo that was most appealing was the butterfly on her right ass cheek. Your eyes landed on her as Erik folded your body to his comfort, penetrating your swollen nub incessantly while kissing your body. Pulling at the covers you couldn’t contain your moans, arching your back you pulled her foot by mistake causing you to get a better view. With her pearl exposed, she was in fact getting off to watching you and Erik get it on in front of her. She caressed her naked body roughly, hastily rubbing her clit as fast as she could to reach her peak. This alone peaked your curiosity. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of her, a physical representation of what self pleasure embodied, with Erik continuously stuffing himself inside of you, your body erupted an intense orgasm that rocked your body with conviction.

Unknowingly, the three of you came together in unison coming down from a high. Erik removed himself from you and walked away to the bathroom. She on the other hand, climbed on top of you, straddled you, and ran her hands through your hair caressing your face, kissing you passionately. Not thinking twice, your hands landed on her back, traveling down to her waist, and lastly a firm grip to her ass; cupping her tattoo. You couldn’t get enough of this feeling, feeling her smile against your lips in between kisses. She managed to flick at your clit, evoking soft whimpers from your lips. “Good girl”, her sultry voice let out. Within minutes, she found your sweet spot, that sensual spot that only Erik could touch, she found what made you gush instantly. With a quick squeeze of your clit and a bite to your nipple, a puddle ensued underneath as a result of endless pleasure. Erik walked in with a pair of joggers on with a smirk on his face, watching how you looked at her smiling, he couldn’t believe that his plan went off without a hitch. Though he was happy, he was growing quite jealous of the bond you two were forming. Clearing his throat, you two looked at him and she removed herself from your lap. “I see you’ve shown her a good time” Erik stated. “I hope so” she said getting out of bed, winking at you. She threw on her lingerie, dress and heels and headed for the door. Erik followed her to the door handing her a wad of money. You two locked eyes for a moment before she walked out the door.

Getting out of bed, I threw on my black silk robe as Erik walked over to the bar cart. Erik fixed a shot glass of Don Julio and handed it to me. Taking it, I scrunched my face at him. “Let me get mine” he stated as he poured himself a shot. “To a great night!” Erik stated as his shot glass collided with mine. Taking the shot, my face scrunched in disgust and I got out of bed and placed the empty shot glass on the bar cart. I opened the screen door and stood out on the rooftop. Motioning for Erik to come to me, I placed my arms around his neck, looking in his eyes as he held my waist. “Who would’ve thought huh?” He questioned. “Thought what?” I asked smiling. “That you’d be so be so ‘free’, didn’t think you had it in you” he chuckled smacking my ass. I rolled my eyes “It was just the liquor, I don’t get down like that” I replied looking away, ashamed to say the least. Erik lifted my chin to get my attention “It’s okay.” He smiled revealing his dimples. “It’s okay to admit you like pussy on occasions. I mean, you could’ve fooled me, shorty was definitely feeling you” Erik teased. You pulled away from him annoyed that he was amused at your newfound hidden treasure. “Don’t be like that Noelle, I’m just talking” he says walking towards me. “How’d you know I’d go through with it anyway?” You asked. “I didn’t. But, after spending so much time with you, I figured you’d be the type to try something at least once” he admitted. You scoffed in displeasure. “Erik!” I objected. “I like this new you way better. Remember when we met that night at the club? You had just gotten off work, you were upset about a submission being rejected and you talked to me the entire night at the bar about it. And ever since then, and every night after, you’ve spent thrilling nights with me” he consoled, walking behind you wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Damn you still remember that?” I questioned with a smile to my face, not realizing how much Erik really pays attention to you. “How could I forget Elle? You were too drunk to drive home. I didn’t feel comfortable with you leaving in an Uber that night. You threw up in the front seat of my Maserati. You cried the whole way to my place insisting you’d buy me a new car” Erik laughed. “I haven’t been able to get rid of your stuck up ass since!” He said with a kiss to my cheek. Turning to meet his gaze I toyed with his dreads as we shifted around the rooftop under the night sky. “Never thought you’d be the type to go for a girl in corporate anyway.” You admitted. “It’s a kink of mine, a fantasy of some sort” he embellished. “Shut up!” I replied hitting him in the chest. Our moment of laughter subsided as silence fell upon us. Exhaling I couldn’t believe that I had been so lucky to have met such a perfect man. Erik was edgy, he could be a romantic but he’d make you work for it. Erik was a businessman, and part time trainer. In my eyes he was a jack of all trades, the perfect catch to my damsel in distress facade.

“I need to tell you something” Erik interrupted, “Whats up?” I asked. “I’ve gotta go out of town tomorrow for a business trip” he said. “For how long?” I asked rubbing his arms. Erik looked at me uneasy, “3 weeks” he said. My eyes widened “Erik! Come on, you promised you wouldn’t be away like this anymore!” I whined, walking away from him. “I know, I know baby but duty calls” Erik said taking my hand. “The last time you were gone for a month, and I couldn’t take it” I said pulling away, walking back into the penthouse.

“Why would you spring it on me like this so sudden?!” I questioned. “Because, if I would’ve told you ahead of time, you wouldn’t have come out tonight! I know how you get when I leave” he huffed. I rolled my eyes and folded my arms in my chest, “Can you blame me?!” I asked. “Yeah I can, because if the shoe were on the other foot I would be by your side on your last day!” Erik argued. “Baby, who’s gonna pay for this penthouse? My Maserati? What about that diamond necklace around your neck? You know I gotta work” Erik continued. “I have my own money Erik. I don’t care if you buy me expensive things” I snapped, removing my black silk robe.

“You know I want my baby in the best there is. Don’t do me like that.” Erik concluded. Ignoring his comment I walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. My feelings were shaken over the fact that Erik was leaving tomorrow, and he’s just now telling me. We’ve had such a great day but I feel like such a fool for involving myself in a scandalous situation with a beautiful stranger. To top it off, what am I supposed to do now knowing that my coming nights will be spent lonely and uneventful without his touch?

As the water cascaded down my body, my thoughts were interrupted by a cool breeze in the shower. “Couldn’t wait for me?” Erik asked playfully joining me. I glared at him and proceeded to apply the shower gel to my pouf under the water. “Let me get that for you” he said taking the pouf from my hand, forming bubbles with his hands, and applying the pouf to my body, cleaning me. “You know you can’t stay mad at me all night Princess” Erik smiled, grabbing my waist with one arm continuing to lather my body with the bubbly pouf.

“I’m not with that Princess shit tonight. I should’ve known something was up. You always get extra sweet with me when you’re about to leave Erik!” I snapped. Erik stopped bathing me, “Noelle there’s gonna be times where we’re not going to see each other and it’s okay. It’s just three weeks, stop actin’” Erik snapped. I snatched the pouf out of his hands and stood under the water, finishing my shower. “Whatever Erik. You just make sure you don’t give me a reason to pull up” I remarked, now rinsing my body.

“Pull up? Who are you?” Erik said gruffly walking over to me. His hand met the side of my face, gently caressing it “Don’t tempt me Princess” he warned flashing his gold grills. The way he looked at me, it lit a fire inside of my body. I couldn’t help but get turned on at his aggressive demeanor. Without a doubt, Erik always kept his word and I need not ask questions. “I’ll do what I have to do. Don’t be out here embarrassing me” I replied stepping away from him, exiting the shower. I dried off and massaged my skin in coconut body oil. I walked into Erik’s closet and grabbed a t-shirt to sleep in. Climbing into bed, I grabbed my phone and noticed I had an Instagram DM from someone named “Lex 🦋” I was tempted to check it, but decided not to considering my time is now limited with Erik. Locking my phone I placed my phone back on the nightstand and snuggled under the covers waiting for him to get out of the shower.

Erik walked into the bedroom with a towel around his waist. He grabbed my bottle of coconut oil and massaged it into his skin. Erik sat on the bed in front of me, handing me the bottle “Do you mind?” He questioned with a quick shake of his dreads. I giggled as the droplets of water hit against my skin. Squiring oil into my hands I massaged the the oil into Erik’s strong back and shoulders. My hands caressed his neck I slowly leaned against his back with my arms wrapped around his neck. “I don’t like fighting with you” I whispered. “Neither do I” he replied lowly. There was something tender about this moment as I embraced Erik. This would be our second time apart and quite frankly, the more time I spent with him, the more attached I’ve become.

Erik pulled me into his lap and stared at me. “I’m doing what I gotta do for us. Don’t ever think that I’m not keeping you in mind. Hopefully I won’t have to be away like this for much longer” he said before kissing me. I wrapped arms around his neck deepening the kiss as my tongue invaded his lips gladly accepting my offer. Breaking the kiss, Erik leaned down and grabbed the bottle of coconut oil and placed it on the nightstand. Leaving his embrace, I crawled into bed and turned off the lamp on the nightstand on my side of the bed. Erik stood to his feet as the towel dropped from his body and climbed into bed hovering over me.

“I hate it when you’re mad at me” he whispered kissing my forehead. My hands caressed his face and I placed soft kisses to his lips. Lifting the shirt over my head, Erik buried his face into my chest, placing soft kisses and love marks on my nipples. Low groans left my lips as I watched his kisses trail down to my warm center. Grinning, Erik stuck his tongue out playfully licking the outside of my nub anticipating my reaction. I couldn’t help but cackle loudly at his childish behavior. “Oh come on!” I laughed. My laughter was soon replaced with moans as Erik’s tongue separated my folds. My bottom lip tucked between my lips, all I could do was hiss at the sensation that his tongue provided to my clit. Erik wasn’t afraid to get messy, his hands pried my lips back to reveal my succulent, swollen clit. My breathing became hitched as his tongue zig zagged, and flickered against me while he sucked me dry. My sensitive nerve endings triggered a lightning bolt sensation in my left leg as he inserted three fingers inside my tight hole. “Fuckkk!” I groaned as my back arched. I was strokes away from creaming all over this man. With the combination of sucking, licking and pounding to my pussy, Erik’s technique was unmatched, he sent an earth shattering orgasm to my body causing my body to contort in angles.

Erik hovered over me smiling, his lips were juicy from my folds. Sitting up on my elbows I pulled him into a kiss to taste myself. Moaning on his lips, I was now ready for a dick down. Placing my feet on his shoulders, Erik lined himself up at my entrance. Slowly, he filled me, but I was greedy and I wanted as much as my pussy could muster. Before I could utter a word, Erik plunged into me causing me to gasp. The surprise to my body resulted in a slick smile. “Freaky ass” Erik cooed. “For you daddy” i remarked seductively. To Erik, Daddy was the code word for Say Less, and before I knew it his dick took me to heights unknown and my pussy took every stroke with pleasure. Dick like this was a privilege to receive, a gift I dare not take for granted. Erik made sure that I wouldn’t forget this night, this dick, or anymore moments hereafter. I don’t think there would be any luck in saving these sheets, the amount of times I’ve squirted and accepted his seed, were endless. My cries could’ve been heard all over LA tonight and I didn’t care as long as I was with him.

The drive to your luxury condo was silent. After such an eventful night, there wasn’t anything else left to say. Asking Erik to stay wasn’t an option. You were never the type to come between a man and his money, but something pulled on your heart strings that something about this business trip was off. This would be the second time that Erik would tell you last minute that he was going away. It was too early and too soon to insist that this is just how Erik is, or if the business trip was a spur of the moment thing from his job. Whatever it is, you hoped he was right, maybe it would be over soon and you two would never be apart again.

Erik pulled into the driveway and grabbed your bag for you. Walking you inside he placed your bag on the couch and stared at you. “Come on Noelle, I don’t wanna be late. Come kiss me goodbye” he said standing there looking lonely. You glared at him, still upset. You made a pitiful stride over to Erik and wrapped your arms around him. “Come here Princess” he spoke softly against your ear pulling you into a kiss. His hands roamed your ass with a good squeeze. He looked in your eyes and smiled, “I promise I won’t be gone long.” He said with another kiss. “Call Lex to keep you company until I get back.” He smirked. “That was a one time thing” you whined rolling your eyes feeling a tantrum coming on. “You have my permission, it’ll make the time pass by. It’ll make you think about me while I’m away” he encouraged pulling you back into his embrace. Lifting your chin to him Erik kissed you passionately. “And whatever you two get into while I’m away, you better FaceTime me that shit” he chuckled. You groaned in annoyance, “I just want you to have some fun while I’m away. You’ll always be mine, so don’t give my shit to nobody else but her, if you must. So when I get back I can show you who’s the King around here” Erik teased seductively kissing you again. “But I gotta go, I’ll call you when I land Princess” Erik says with a final kiss goodbye.

As the door closed behind him, loneliness began to settle in. These past 5 weeks have been been phenomenal and now you hadn’t a clue of what to do with yourself. You walked over to the door and locked it and pulled your phone out of your pocket to call your homegirl Remi. It’s been a while since you two have spoken considering your hectic work schedules and your nightly rendezvous with Erik, you seemed to have neglected your best friend. Unbeknownst to Remi, she wasn’t quite up to speed on your love life let alone your newfound hidden secret.

As you and Remi talked on the phone, you connected your iPhone to your AirPods to multitask on your phone. You pulled up Instagram and decided to respond back to the DM from Lex 🦋. Scrolling through pictures it was quite clear that this was the beautiful stranger from last night. Replying to her DM made you nervous as your thoughts ran wild thinking about last night. Your thoughts were interrupted by Remi yelling at you, she hated when she felt she was being ignored. Remi was the total opposite of you, you were reserved and a bit of an introvert. You had a type A personality whereas Remi was outgoing and very blunt.

Remi was the epitome of a social butterfly, she knew no stranger and will tell it like it is if she had to. Not to mention she would fuck a bitch up if a bitch got crazy. Calming Remi down reassuring her that you were listening to her story, you decided to take Erik up on his offer. You didn’t want to speak too soon and tell him, but maybe this would get your mind off of him being away for now.. you decided to be bold and exchanged numbers with Lex, minutes later as the conversation continued you dropped location for her to pull up. Placing your phone on the coffee table you continued talking to Remi through your AirPods while you poured yourself a glass of wine. Remi always joked with you saying you were too boujee for liquor, she hated coming to your condo knowing you only had wine to drink. You two began to debate over which alcoholic beverage would give you the biggest buzz comparing brown vs white and then liquor vs wine. Before you knew it a shouting match ensured followed by a lot of cackling.

A knock came to the door, interrupting your conversation “Hold on Rem, there’s someone at the door” you say still holding your glass of wine. “Girl it’s probably the neighbors, you know you don’t have company!” Remi joked. “Shut up heffa” you reply unlocking the door keeping the chain on the door. There she was, Lex 🦋 . Your heart skipped a beat. “Um Rem, I think there’s something going on with the neighbors. Lemme call you back sis” you say “Stay outta other folks business!” Remi yells.

Double tapping the AirPod you hung up on Remi and placed the buds in your pocket. “Just a second” you call out. Closing the door quickly, you undid the chain lock on your door and opened the door to let her in. “Erik said I’d be hearing from you” she said walking in. Closing and locking the door behind her, you took a sip of wine and smiled. “Would you like a glass?” You asked.

@soufcakmistress @liilbougievert @honeyandpeaches @goddessofthundathighs @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @thehomierobbstark @mochaxmars @harleycativy @blackpinup22 @19jammmy @mbjfangirl @browngirldominion @woahitslucyylu @loudcowboylawyertree @bigchoose @uzumaki-rebellion @nizzle-mo @luvwitoutlimit1 @honeytoffee

#the boy is mine #erik killmonger smut #erik killmonger imagine #erik killmonger x reader #Erik Killmonger #!OC #erik killmonger x oc #fanfiction #dashhoney25 #killmonger x reader #killmonger x imagine #killmonger x oc

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thelistingteammiami · 11 months ago

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How to Sell Your Property Quickly in the Florida Market

The Florida real estate market is among the most robust. With its great weather and influx of tourists, owning a home in The Sunshine State is an excellent investment. The purchase appetite is obviously great, but sellers face the challenge of staging their homes to appeal to picky buyers. If you plan to sell your home in Florida, learn some tips to close the deal quickly.

Glimpse on the Florida Real Estate Market

The real estate market in Florida has gone from strength to strength due to favorable weather conditions, population growth and rising tourism, especially in the cities of Miami, Tampa and Orlando. Domestic and international homebuyers contribute to the market activity within the state.

While the buying appetite is high, challenges exist, delaying closing the deal. For instance, you may encounter willing homebuyers who will offer an unrealistic price of considerably less than your home is worth.

Tips to Sell Your Home Quickly

Purchasing a home is a big decision, so buyers may need a few weeks to months to give the green signal. If you want to accelerate this process, here are some strategies to influence the buying timeline.

Know Your House’s Value

Most buyers see the dollars first and write off homes that don’t fit their budget. Hiring a professional appraiser can save you from the headache of estimating your home's market value, especially if it's unique and larger than most in the area.

The average home value in 2023 was $383,063, representing an 8.2% increase year-over-year. With a pre-listing appraisal done by a professional, buyers will be more likely to consider your asking price and negotiations will be smoother.

The state has a list of approved appraisers who meet the requirements, certifications and licenses necessary for their job. You can tap one of them for help.

Stage Your Home

Your next step is to upgrade your home’s aesthetics. Boosting the curb appeal of the exterior and spotlighting the best features of the interior will make your home irresistible, like a cake with colorful frosting and toppings. Here are a few things you can do.

1. Manicure the Garden and Lawn

A well-maintained lawn and garden are a sign the property is looked after and a good selling point that attracts premium buyers.

2. Add Attractive Landscaping Elements

Landscaping services cost around $1,500–$5,000 for front yards and $15,000 to $50,000 for backyards, which is quite expensive. However, it will potentially increase your property’s price tag by 15%–20% more during a resale.

Furnish your yards with some colors by adding flowers and plants to the flower beds. Keep the lawn neat so the surroundings look put together every time a buyer comes.

3. Repaint the Exterior Walls

Another simple strategy is to apply a fresh coat of paint to your property’s exterior. It’ll make your house look brand new.

4. Add Cladding

Cladding adds texture to the wall and makes it look more sophisticated. Apart from the aesthetics, it has many uses, like providing a waterproof envelope that keeps the walls from getting soaked with rain and moisture, reducing the need for frequent maintenance.

5. Install Hurricane Shutters

Three of the five cities with the highest hurricane risk are in Florida — Miami, Key West and Tampa. This is why installing hurricane shutters is necessary for the buyer's security and peace of mind. The aluminum can reduce the impact of natural disasters, prevent heavy rains from infiltrating through the doors and windows, and protect your assets.

6. Declutter and Depersonalize the Space

If buyers like your home, they’ll try to envision living in it. Their mind will visualize many scenarios, such as what furniture or accessories to add to make it homey, and how to rearrange it. You can make this mental process easier by decluttering and depersonalizing your property, encouraging the buyers to think they own it.

7. Perform Home Upgrades

Simple upgrades in the interior will make your home shine. For example, repainting the kitchen cabinets will give them a fresh look, adding a coffee table to the living room will add a touch of modernity and switching to eco-friendly lighting will appeal to buyers looking for sustainable options.

To make a strong first impression, your home must look pleasing. Remember these tips while staging your property.

Work With a Real Estate Agent

If your main goal is to sell the house fast, a skilled real estate agent can easily tap into their network for potential buyers. All you have to do is sign the papers when closing the deal.

The selling process can be chaotic and missing some payables related to offloading your property can happen if you do it alone. Since you'll have to foot some of the costs, working with an agent can ensure you sign the deal and handle all the related expenses legally.

Benefits of Working With a Real Estate Agent

Agents take a cut for their services, which is typically around 4%–6% of a property's sale price. It's a sizable amount of money, but it's worth it if they can make the buying process seamless. An agent can help you in two ways.

1. Access to a Network of Potential Buyers

Experienced agents can easily find a buyer from their massive network of clients and other real estate professionals who can make referrals.

2. Expertise in Pricing, Marketing and Negotiating

They know the market like the back of their hand, so they're adept at advertising the property in a way that tugs at the buyer's heartstrings. Their negotiating skills can help you get the best price.

Tips for Selecting the Right Agent

You'll work with the agent for a time, so choosing someone with the right attitude, skills and professionalism is the recipe for a prompt sale.

1. Research Local Agents

Industry sites like Realtor have a search function where you can find professional real estate agents in Florida, and look up their profiles and experiences. Alternatively, you can ask someone in your network if they know someone.

2. Schedule Interviews and Ask For References

Once you have a pick, schedule a meeting to evaluate their home-selling track record further. More importantly, ask for references or testimonials to find out what their previous clients say about them.

Fast-Track Your Home Selling With These Tips

The home selling process can be tricky, from upgrading to finally listing it for sale. You can offload the chunk of the tasks to a professional real estate agent at a commission. If you decide to do the process yourself, ensure you stage the interior and exterior to make it appealing.

In any form of transaction, appearance holds a significant value. By beautifying your home, you're likely to close the deal.

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restaurantinsanjuan · 4 years ago

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The Best Things to See, Eat, and Do in San Juan

Why come to Puerto Rico when you could travel in Mexico, or Miami, or even the Dominican Republic nearby? Great inquiry. Come to Puerto Rico to encounter the unusual impression of being in a completely unique nation (gas by the liter, streets by the kilometer, Spanish is spoken) while as yet being in the United States (same dollar, same president, no requirement for a visa). An outing here is a 3-for-1 deal of Caribbean sea shores, tropical rainforests, and wonderful mountainscapes - with the uncommon special reward of not one but rather three bioluminescent sounds. There's sufficient to see and do in Puerto Rico to keep you occupied for quite a long time.

All things considered, at the top of any Puerto Rico agenda ought to be San Juan, the dynamic capital city where most of the island's visitors land. Set up in 1521, this is the most established European-established settlement in the US and the second-most seasoned in the Americas. You don't need to squint too difficult to see that rich history around you: The pastel-hued Spanish frontier structures and thin cobblestone roads of the Old Town are ensured by seventeenth century strongholds and a 15-foot-thick crisscrossing divider. Take a mobile tour around Old San Juan to get the full impact. Additionally of historical import: The piña colada was concocted here.

Be that as it may, San Juan is something beyond enchanting old stuff and tourist shops. It's a mosaic of steadily advancing areas, similar to the cosmopolitan Miami vibes of Condado, or the fashionable person bars and road craft of Santurce. Regardless of whether you're here for the afternoon or remaining for a whole week, here are the best things to do in San Juan.

The Best Things to See on a Trip to Puerto Rico

Tour the history-pressed San Juan, zip line through a tropical rainforest, and hit the sea shore.

Visit the absolute most seasoned fortresses in the Americas

We should move the touristy stuff first, will we? Two tremendous fortresses front San Juan's northern face. To the west, the sixteenth century Castillo San Felipe del Morro (normally known as El Morro) is undoubtedly perhaps the most notable attractions in Puerto Rico. With its essential area ignoring the San Juan Bay, El Morro protected this port city from 1539 to as of late as WWII.

Passage into El Morro costs just $7.00 - save your ticket, since it likewise incorporates section to "that other fortification," Castillo San Cristobal, inside 24 hours of procurement. This is fundamentally El Morro's neglected younger sibling, yet San Cristobal is cool too! It's the biggest European fortress in the Americas and features the notorious Devil's Guerite (Garita del Diablo). Rumors have spread far and wide suggesting that warriors would randomly vanish as they stood watch in this guerite.

It's about a mile stroll from one fortress to the next, and the walk alone is breathtaking, with pastel provincial houses on one side and a capturing blue ocean on the other. A mammoth esplanade fronting El Morro fills in as a public social event spot, and is a great spot to take a break.

Take a look at the lead representative's home

After you visit the fortresses, walk the waterfront down to La Fortaleza, another walled compound where the island's Governor lives. You're not permitted to go in - it's in a real sense the Governor's home and office - yet you'll see it from the entryway. Lately, the First Lady has stepped up and brighten Fortaleza Street paving the way to the fundamental door. Right now, it's adorned with many bright umbrellas drifting over the road.

Snap a selfie at La Puerta de la Bandera

Since 2012, the passage doors of a flimsy structure on San José Street have become a significant image for Puerto Ricans living under the island's present financial emergency. Craftsman Rosenda Álvarez initially painted the doors with the Puerto Rican banner, just to revisit her painting four years after the fact, quiet the red and blue shades of the banner, and paint them dark all things considered. It was an analysis to the questionable monetary oversight board that is currently controlling the island funds. The structure is presently a famous selfie spot among tourists and local people.

Chase for noticeable (dead) local people in the graveyard

Despite the fact that it's found right close to El Morro, this pioneer time graveyard is regularly neglected by tourists. It lies right external the divider, confronting the ocean. The Santa Maria Magdalena de Pazzis Cemetery is the last resting spot of a few noticeable Puerto Ricans - among the most acclaimed names discovered here are Pedro Albizu Campos, Jose Celso Barbosa, and José de Diego, among numerous others.

Chill with something fruity

In the event that you see a little kart with "piraguas" composed on it, do not spare a moment! Piraguas are squashed ice cones seasoned with nearby natural product syrups like cherry, enthusiasm organic product, strawberry, tamarind, coconut, and lemon. Sadly they're a withering practice, yet they can in any case be found in Old San Juan, particularly close to El Morro and Paseo la Princesa.

You'll likewise see hand crafted popsicles sold to a great extent at inhabitants' front doors, generally for $1. These are paletas, seasoned with pretty much every natural product on the island. Guava. Coconut. Other stuff. I got one that was an orange-and-cream blend, and I discovered it some way or another gooier than I'd anticipated. It was likewise truly reviving. Which was fundamental around noontime in the late spring, when the city can be, ah, I'll simply say it, abusively hot.

See the rotunda in the Puerto Rican Capitol

The capitol building is a marble structure fronting the Atlantic, not a long way from Fort San Cristobal. Passageway is totally free, Monday through Friday. Look upward at the roof, where the history of Puerto Rico is portrayed in a dazzling, point by point mosaic. Remain in the focal point of the rotunda, and you'll be encircled by glass-encased duplicates of the Puerto Rican and U.S. constitutions. Outside, the Puerto Rican and U.S. banners fly one next to the other.

Visit the most established house of God in Puerto Rico

In the first place, look at the gallery at Casa Blanca, a house worked for the Spanish traveler Ponce de León and his family. De León, who broadly (and uselessly) looked for the wellspring of youth, kicked the bucket on a campaign before he could move in. Walk a couple of squares to the San Juan Bautista basilica where Ponce de Leon moved in, and where he'll remain forever; he's entombed inside.

There's nothing extravagant about the design, however San Juan Bautista is the most established church in Puerto Rico and the second most seasoned in the Americas. Notwithstanding the tomb of de León, it contains the holy place to Carlos Manuel Rodríguez Santiago - the principal Puerto Rican and the main layman in the history of the United States to be beatified.

Dance to the beat of "Despacito" in La Perla

La Perla has gained notoriety for strict hundreds of years. This historic shanty town was initially settled in the nineteenth century to house previous slaves and destitute workers who weren't permitted to live inside the city dividers. Today, the area appreciates newly discovered acclaim as where Luis Fonsi shot his music video for "Despacito." It was hit hard by Hurricane Maria is still amidst remaking. In case you're nearby on a Sunday night, go celebrating at La 39 Bar, a shoddy bar based on the top of a house that was mostly obliterated during the typhoon. Request a Medalla, the most mainstream brew in Puerto Rico.

Go to a well known speakeasy mixed drink bar

Likewise featured in the "Despacito" music vid is the speakeasy El Condal. This spot is so well known among local people, it doesn't require a sign outside. It's found where the well known Hijos de Borinquen bar used to be (you can in any case see the first name inside, painted on the divider), and El Condal holds the calm vibe of the famous unique.

It's tourist-accommodating, however as you advance inside you'll discover more than tourists drinking - and moving - there. Past the covered up indirect access are four more individual spaces, including a wine-bar, dance floor, and basement like bar - each with its own music, vibe, climate, beverages, and food. You may even get spendy and drop $9 on a mixed drink.

Attempt a delectable tripleta

Puerto Rico has no deficiency of delightful road food, particularly since the food-truck fever has assumed control over the island. In any case, Puerto Rico has had its own customary food-truck dish throughout recent decades - it's called tripleta. What's a tripleta? It's a sandwich. Tripleta implies three, so this sandwich has marinated barbecued 3D square steak, ham or pork, and chicken. It is served on a portion of yam bread with chips, mayonnaise, and ketchup. Trust me, it is delightful! Among the most famous tripletas is El Mariachi, found in Caguas and numerous different districts. You can visit best Italian restaurant in San Juan.

Absorb the Miami vibes along Ashford Avenue

Ashford Avenue feels like a Caribbean adaptation of Miami Beach with its Miami-style design, very good quality stores, popular lodgings, and beachfront bistros. Stroll along the road to absorb the climate, chill at the beachfront Ventana del Mar Park, have a dynamic night at the historic La Concha Resort, or tune in to live groups at the Hard Rock Café.

#san juan #restaurant #food

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highserviceglass · 4 years ago

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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Why The Bee Gees Were More Than Saturday Night Fever

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Generations of music fans know the Bee Gees — British-born, Australia-based brothers Barry, Robin and Maurice Gibb — as the musical act that created the songs for Saturday Night Fever, the 1978 movie that made John Travolta a star and catapulted what was known at the time as “disco” music to the forefront of pop culture.

But not only did the Bee Gees create indelible dance staples like “Stayin’ Alive,” “Night Fever,” and “More Than a Woman,” but they had an entire career before Saturday Night Fever, one which was launched in the 1960s and yielded pop classics like “How Do You Mend a Broken Heart,” “To Love Somebody,” “Massachusetts,” “I Started a Joke,” and more, before their gradual turn toward R&B and dance with hits such as “Jive Talkin’” and “Nights on Broadway.”

Along the way, the Bee Gees broke up, battled each other and various addictions, went through dizzying career ups and downs, wrote hits for other artists and succumbed to tragedy, with Robin, Maurice, and younger brother Andy (who started as a solo act before joining his siblings in the Bee Gees) passing away in 2012, 2003 and 1988 respectively.

They also experienced one of the most vicious backlashes in pop history as the tide turned against disco by the end of the 1970s — a backlash that may have been fueled by racism and homophobia as well as the oversaturation of the market.

Now the entire story of the Bee Gees has been chronicled in an excellent new documentary, The Bee Gees: How Can You Mend a Broken Heart, which premieres this weekend on HBO in the US and Sky Documentaries in the UK. The film is directed by Frank Marshall, the legendary producer whose own track record with Amblin and his own Kennedy/Marshall Company includes films such as the Indiana Jones series, the Back to the Future trilogy, Poltergeist, the Jurassic Park/World saga, Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, Arachnophobia (which he also directed), The Sixth Sense and many more.

Den of Geek had the privilege of speaking with Marshall about his own view of the Bee Gees, working with Barry Gibb and the families of the other brothers, their place in pop culture and more.

Den of Geek: I went into this film not being a particularly huge Bee Gees fan, but certainly knowing who they are and knowing certain parts of the legacy like Saturday Night Fever. I came out of it wanting to get all those early albums and just fascinated by their whole story.

Frank Marshall: Well, thanks. It was an extraordinary journey. That’s what I love about documentaries, you don’t know where you’re going, unlike my day job where I know everything I’m doing that day. This was such a great journey of discovery and so I’m glad you enjoyed it.

I read that your father was a musician and you play guitar yourself, so music has always been an important part of your life.

Yeah. That was the connection here, that I grew up in a musical family. My dad was a guitar player and conductor and composer. He was actually under contract at Capitol Records. So there was a lot of connective tissue that went into this. So it kind of made sense to me. It was kind of natural.

What was your first exposure to the Bee Gees and what was it about them that struck a chord for you, so to speak?

When I thought back I knew their early songs because I grew up obviously in the ’60s, ’70s, but they really didn’t have an impact for me until Saturday Night Fever. I was shooting The Warriors, which was also at Paramount, and so it was a big deal to have this movie soundtrack suddenly become such a giant success. That was my first realization that they were pop superstars. The music from the movie was incredible. The songs were all different and really fit to the movie. Then to find out later, when I’m doing this doc, that none of it was planned, that’s incredible.

I love that portion of the documentary where it comes out that some of the execs at Paramount at the time were looking down at the “little disco movie” and had no idea what it was going to become.

Certainly, at that moment I happened to be at Paramount when that was going on. We were doing The Warriors, and I remember hearing about a little disco movie. John Travolta was a TV star. Nobody saw this coming.

What inspired you to do a film about the Bee Gees? You worked with Martin Scorsese on The Last Waltz, which is a very different film, but in terms of how to make a great music documentary was that an inspiration?

Well, Marty’s kind of an inspiration for whatever you want to do. But I’ve always loved documentaries. I’ve never really had the opportunity to do them just because they take so long and they’re so involved, and I’ve had my day job. But we started dabbling. I directed my first short doc about 10 years ago and I really loved it, but it was only 50 minutes and it was a very specific subject. We’ve kind of been dabbling in them and then Kennedy/Marshall, about five, six years ago, started really making them.

I was over at Capitol Records meeting with the head, a fellow named Steve Barnett, who had just remodeled and refurbished Capitol Records. I was marveling at how fabulous it was and it reminded me of my early days with my dad and being there and everything. So we started talking about documentaries or stories that might be told at Capitol.

He said, “Well, I just acquired the Bee Gees catalog. We want to try some to do some things to reintroduce and reinvigorate the catalog, and we think a documentary would be great.” I said, “Hey, I’m in. I’ve always thought there were an amazing group and I’d love to get into how that all came about.” So it was being in the right place at the right time for me, and that was four years ago.

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What would you say is the secret to a good documentary?

I think you have to dive deep. I think it can’t be superficial and you can’t tell a story that people know. I think you really have to dig deep into the characters to find that. You start with a general arc and for me it was the family and this gift of creativity that they had. But where did it come from?

The reason I went and got Nigel Sinclair to produce this was I looked at the fabulous doc that he did with Ron Howard on the Beatles and I said, “If they can find footage that had never been seen before of the Beatles then he can help me find footage for this.” It has to be one of those things that had never been seen before.

It needs to have some weight to it. As they say, it needs to be authentic, it needs to be real. You can’t pull wool over people’s eyes. They know if it’s a puff piece. This one, it has its ups and downs. It’s got its joyous moments but there’s also some tragedy. It’s happy and sad. So I think that it really makes for the right story and it’s right for a documentary.

Were Barry Gibbs and the families of the other brothers up for it from the start, or did it take some convincing?

Well, it started with Barry. I met Barry when he came out here for the Grammy tribute and we kind of hit it off, I think, because I’m the oldest in my family, I have younger brothers, and we both grew up in a musical family. So we shared a lot of commonality. You have to get to know each other. I traveled down to Miami several times where we’d just talked. We didn’t shoot, we didn’t do any interviews. Then he introduced me to the rest of the family. Obviously, he was blessing the project and he just felt it was just the right time.

Was one of your goals to show people that the Bee Gees were more than Saturday Night Fever? There may be generations who don’t even know that they sang “How Can You Mend a Broken Heart” or “Massachusetts” or any of those other songs.

Yeah, I think it was really to reintroduce them to fans, but also introduce the younger generations of music buffs and music fans to who they really are. We’re really celebrating their legacy and what incredible songwriters they were.

They were this group that everybody knew, but I have two 20-year-old daughters and when I started putting on songs like “Islands in the Stream” and “Guilty,” they go, “Oh yeah, Barbra Streisand wrote that,” or “That’s Dolly Parton.” I said, “No, it isn’t. This is the Bee Gees.” They go, “What?” So, you’re right. There are all these songs that people know, but they don’t realize the songwriting gifts that the Bee Gees had as well.

One of the most shocking moments in the film was the Disco Demolition Night and the analysis of it by Vince Lawrence, who was a security guard at Comiskey Park for that event. When he started talking about pulling the Isaac Hayes and Al Green records out of the bonfire, that just blew me away. And the backlash against the Bee Gees was unbelievably intense.

When you delve into what was that about, I remember it but you don’t understand the impact society was having on music in those days and on the career of these guys. They were on the front wave of global superstardom. It wasn’t just local superstardom. They didn’t understand what was happening. They were just caught up in the changes and trends happening in society and the music was reflecting that. It’s the same kind of backlash that’s happening today about what you believe in.

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First of all, they weren’t disco artists. They got labeled that. But, as you know, they were R&B, they were rock, they were so many other things, but they got labeled as this and then they got blamed for it. It wasn’t their fault. It was really unfair. It was that thing that we talk about in the movie that so often happens to superstars. Now, we understand it but back then they didn’t. So we went to explore why and that’s when we found Vince and we found Nicky Siano to really set and authenticate what was going on.

Nicky (a resident DJ at Studio 54 during the disco era) mentions in the doc how disco became such a success that the music industry basically oversaturated the market with it, which I think is also something you see in the film business. A superhero movie becomes big, so let’s shove 10 more superhero movies out there as soon as possible.

I think Nicky says it, it’s about greed. They lose sight of why it’s successful and then oversaturate and then people get angry and there’s a backlash. The Bee Gees were writing other songs as well, but it was that huge reaction to Saturday Night Fever that wasn’t their fault, but they got blamed for it.

When you meet a Barry Gibb, or work with Steven Spielberg or even Orson Welles, as you did early in your career, is there something different about their personalities, the way they look at the world that ties them together as these creative visionaries?

Well, yes, I guess. They’re all perfectionists. They don’t let it go until it’s out the door and they’re made to let go. That’s the commonality. What’s amazing to me, particularly in the case of the Bee Gees, was that Barry was a collaborator. He took this input from everybody around him and that’s what created the musicality that came into their songs. It wasn’t just one thing.

He took ideas from here and from there and said, “Give us a riff over there or play that thing that you played last night.” He remembers it and that was all the creative process for him and he was natural. I think that’s what I see with Steven and certainly with Orson and with Barry is that it came naturally. It’s not work. They’re just naturally creative and that’s really the gift.

What would you like people to take away from seeing this, either brand new fans or older fans?

Well, I think it’s about the longevity and the fact that they were loving brothers. It was complicated, families are complicated, but their incredible musical gift and the impact that they’ve had on the pop music culture should not be underestimated. I think that’s what I want to do, is celebrate their legacy and hopefully people will rediscover them and discover them anew.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

The Bee Gees: How Can You Mend a Broken Heart premieres this Saturday (December 12) on HBO in the US and on Sunday (December 13) via Sky Documentaries in the UK.

The post Why The Bee Gees Were More Than Saturday Night Fever appeared first on Den of Geek.

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