#UNTIL YOU GET LOADS OF CALL OUT VIDEOS AND GET TOMATOED BY LOADS OF PEOPLE YOU HAVEN'T FELT FEAR

[ask-the-unvitational-committee]

Hey Zoetrope! How's that new AI-generated movie coming along?

[wireframearson]

i had a dream last night that i was watching a pm seymour video and one of my posts got in and i was so excited, and for some reason i remember the post very vividly so here it is:

"So, I have a friend who works as a waitress in a very rich area. Let's call her J. The place she works at has a "ask for anything, get anything you ask for" policy. So that means like steaks grilled in mayo, a scoop of strawberry ice cream on top of your tomato soup, whatever weird food request you ask for (within reason) can be made. Because of this, the place is notorious for having a bunch of weird clients, and weird clients bring weird tips. J has been tipped $100 in $1 bills, full hardcover books, many copies of the bible, oddly frequently she gets tipped boxes of matches? but sometimes people will choose to buy the restaurant some ingredients. Does the place need them? No. Do they use them anyways? Yeah, it's just that little bit of extra money they can save, of course they're gonna use it. So one night the place was busier than it ever had been. They were severely understaffed due to a flu going around, and literally every single table was filled. Apparently there was some sort of health craze going around with olive oil salads? Like, imagine everything on a caesar salad but instead of caesar dressing it was just a load of extra-extra-virgin olive oil. Something about 'clearing out your insides'. So the restaurant was serving just a bunch of salads drenched in olive oil. Eventually the place ran out of the stuff, but people just kept coming in and ordering olive oil salads. And the more times J turned people away who ordered it, the more restless they got. J got called every word under the sun, got scoffed at, even had a bottle of wine thrown at her once (she caught it, thankfully). Eventually a client walked in, saw J on the verge of tears and stressed out of her mind, and gently took her hands in his own. He didn't say anything, only nodded his head and made a motion for J to follow him. She stepped outside to see an old, beat-up truck with several wooden crates in the back. She opened one to see it FULL of extra-extra-virgin olive oil. She fell to her knees and started to sob, and the client went inside and came back out with the rest of the waiters on duty. They all carried the oil inside and ended up going through all of it (roughly 100 bottles) in the next 12 hours. The client kept coming back day after day with more olive oil shipments until the craze began to die down and people stopped ordering the olive oil salad. The client walked in for the last time and waved at J. She motioned him over. 'I never got your name,' she said with a nervous. And she hadn't, cuz she had been so busy she never thought to ask for it. The client smiled at her and said 'You can call me Jesus'."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking for a Place to Happen 2

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: Here’s chapter two. Think I’ll probably slow down writing. Appreciate y’all.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 2: I follow every little whiff

💀💀💀

You gave yourself a day off that week. Rather, the desolation of Birch allowed you an excuse to get away from your desk. An internet outage across the town had you up and wandering the main road just after noon. Your grandmother refused to join you so she was left to her true crime novel and the weekday droning of talk show hosts.

After a peek in the book shop where you picked out some used thrillers for your nan and a guilty splurge on one of Babs' pies to add to the surprise, you stopped by the diner and had some soup to warm up from the unrelenting cold. You played around on your phone as you blindly slurped from your spoon. With no available connection, you swapped candies to achieve a score high enough to get to the next round.

After another loss, you put your screen down and added some pepper to the tomato soup. You leaned your chin in your hand and peered across the road. The Asp was just diagonal from The Chipped Saucer and from your seat by the window you could see the comings and goings of the dingy bar.

You chuckled to yourself as you remembered the hundreds of comments on your video. You weren't entirely surprised that the internet cheered at the sight of a woman beating up a man in broad daylight, you'd seen much worse on the web. But many were curious and asked about how it started and about the small town alluded to in the caption.

You picked up your phone and flipped open the camera. You pointed it through the glass as one of the many bikers strutted out of the bar and down the street. You knew him, like most in town, he was the leader's right hand man. Steve Rogers. He had an odd gait, rigid with long strides, and you remember Kelly used to make fun of him when you walked home from school. That felt like forever ago.

You ended the video and dropped your phone again. You'd send it to Kelly when the outage was over. It would be a good laugh. Plus, you hadn't heard from her much since she moved to the city.

You finished your soup and paid. You went out into the street and cut around to the backstreets. You made your way back to your nans and found Pippin scratching at the front door. You stopped and scooped him up before you let yourself in.

"Don't like the snow, do ya?" You set him down and he whipped his tail before skittering off, "hey nan, I got you some stuff."

"You spend too much," she grumbled as you hung your coat and grabbed her treats.

"Only on you," you sang as you entered the front room, "sugarless blueberry pie, your fave, and some books about murder and all that freaky stuff you love."

"Hmm," she watched you put the pie and books down on the coffee table, "suppose the pie will go good with tea."

"Ah, and I suppose I'll be making that tea?" You returned.

"My arthritis…" she pouted but her grin came through.

"Yeah, yeah," you snickered as you went to the kitchen to put on the kettle, "we going black today or something lighter?"

"Put on some of the pekoe," she called back, "make a whole pot."

"Will do, ma'am," you trilled and basked in her annoyed mutter.

💀

When the internet came back, you sent of an email to inform the agency of the interruption and promised to meet your deadlines. Then you puttered around and added a caption to the video before you sent it off to Kelly; 'why he walk like that tho'. She sent a series of crying emojis back and told you to post it.

'Nah, it's a dumb joke.' You typed back.

'Saw ur last vid, ppl will eat it up,' she insisted.

'Well, got nothing else to put up. The account’s dying since no one cares about my writing.'

'DO IT.' Her words sealed your resolve and you uploaded the video with some dramatic music in the background.

The response was almost instantaneous. Several comments saying they were happy to see more and others being for another video. 'We all wanna see inside this fucked up town' one added and several latched on. Ignoring the questions of where this was, you gave a thin promise of future small town thug content. 

You turned back to your work email and opened up your draft for your next gig. You couldn't help but smile as you went over your work. You might have just found your niche.

💀

You knew your nan would lose it if she knew you were snooping around the club, so you didn’t tell her. You went down, made her breakfast, went back upstairs to do your work, then tiptoed out in the late afternoon to poke around town for something to upload. Birch was so dull when you lived there but to those outside, it was a novelty you were all too eager to provide.

You got more videos of the bikers; some revving their bikes, others arguing, but there was nothing overly usable. You were getting bored of it until the man himself walked out of the bar. You record the man’s glower expression as he marched down the sidewalk and turned off just down the way.

‘His name is Bucket… wtf?!’ you keyed in and snorted as you waited for it to load to your account.

Still, there was nothing special going on, like always in Birch, and your grandmother was bound to get suspicious if you kept sneaking around. You went back and hid your phone before she could bitch about it. You cooked her dinner and sat with her as your thoughts swung between work and your TikTok.

You went to bed but couldn’t sleep. You ended up watching YouTube on your phone as the windows shook with the night winds. It wasn’t until the darkness began to glow that you were roused from the cocoon of your comforter. You looked out and saw smoke coming from the main road.

You didn’t think before you pulled on your jeans and shoved your feet into your slipper, unconcerned about them soaking through as you barreled down the stairs, the sleeves of your hoodie only half on. The back door bounced behind you and you crunched down into the snow and clamored past the row of lifeless houses. 

You were out of breath as you got to the end of the path and rounded the diner to gape over at the burning garage. You got closer as the line of bikers stood in their leather with breath puffing before them in the frigid night. You stepped back into the shadow of the brick façade of the realty office and swiped your camera open.

Your hands shook and you struggled to steady the image on the screen as the mechanic woman raged in only her tee shirt. You didn’t quite understand what was going on; only that her garage was up in smoke and then men were doing nothing to smother it. She swung at the dark haired man and spat at several others; “cowards”... “fuck all of you!”

You gulped and held your breath as she was dragged away by the large redheaded henchman of the slender outsider. She fought for a moment before she was flung over his shoulder and the biker followed their leader back to The Asp. You sidled in between the building and hid until the voices faded into the wind.

Well, that would be a hell of a video. It might even go viral.

💀

Your phone did not stop. You almost felt bad as you saw the screen limn the edges of your cell as you left it face down on the little table beside the couch. Your nan sat in her rocking chair talking away on her corded phone to Linette from down the road. You suspected that every other person in town was gossiping about the same thing; the fire.

You finished your coffee and rubbed your eyes as you checked the time and ignored the pulsing notifications. It was too much to keep up with.

Your grandmother hung up and sighed, “can’t believe it. You hear?”

“Hear what?” you pretended ignorance.

“That old garage burned down. The one with the lady,” she said, “pity. When I was a girl, that place was a salon. Ma used to take us there to get our hair cut. The barber would give us wrapped candies and pretend to cut himself with his scissors.”

“Oh? It burned down?” you weren’t sure you were very convincing but you also could just say you saw it happen.

“Yep, no one really can say. You know, maybe she was welding or some rag caught, but I bet my money on those bikers,” she sneered.

“Good thing you’re poor,” you kidded, “and why the bikers?”

“Oh, well, you know Kimmy, Linette’s girl, works down at the diner and she saw that mechanic arguing with one of those strangers, the ones dealing with the club men. Well, it’s no coincidence that trouble follows those leather jackets around,” she rocked as she nodded knowingly, “oh, one of the boys I knew back in the day, he was found burnt up with his bike. They said the tank blew… well, I saw it and that tank was pristine.”

“Nan,” you gasped, “you… Jesus.”

“Well, things don’t change in Birch, we just get older,” she continued, “when you’re young, everything seems new but then you age and it’s all just the same.”

“Wow, how… inspiring,” you said dryly.

“Girlie, you gotta be careful,” she intoned, “that fire, that’s a lesson to all the women in this town. To everyone. You don’t cross the Commandos.”

“I don’t think anyone--”

“That’s another thing, there has never been a shortage of stupid people, not now not then,” she girded, “those women who get tied up in that club, their lives are already done.”

You frowned and hid your phone in your pocket as you stood. You rubbed your neck and picked up your empty mug, “I should get started.”

“Mmm,” she said as she dialed the phone again, “I wonder if Fran knows yet.” 

💀

You were being really fucking stupid but peer pressure was not a logical thing. Even through a screen, you found it hard to resist the goads. So there you were, your phone in your hand as you live-streamed your walk down to The Asp. The data costs alone would make you regret it but you were caught up in the hype of you fifteen second of internet fame.

“Alright,” you stopped across the street and gave a view of the moniker with Cleopatra sultrily looking down at you, “this is it… I just gotta play it cool…” you turned the lens towards you and smiled nervously, “hopefully that dude at the front doesn’t stop me.”

Comments flicked up the bottom of the screen so fast and smilies and hearts floated up the side around your face. You crossed the screen as you turned your phone against your coat and approached the bar door. The large biker butted out his smoke and you bared your teeth nervously. He didn’t stop you as he rolled his shoulders and coughed.

You entered to the noise of classic rock and low voices, the clink of glasses and tap of chalk on marble. You glanced around and quickly swept your phone around to give a view of the patrons. You hurried over to the bar and climbed up on a stool.

“You need a drink?” the woman behind the bar scowled. She looked worn out even with her lips painted bright pink and her eyes clouded with blue shadow.

“Uh, sure, can I… can I get one pint of everything you have on tap?” you asked as you set your phone down and shrugged out of your coat. You draped it over the next stool and reposition your phone as you flipped the cam and used the built in stand on the case to angle yourself onto the screen.

“Sure,” she narrowed her eyes and glanced past you.

You swung your feet as you waited for her to pour the five pints; some with too much foam and the others with no head at all. You took the first and held it up for the camera.

“A classic, BudLight,” you held it up to the light, “no head and…” you sipped, “flat.” You plunked it down and coughed as you grabbed the next, “this is a raddler?” you looked at the tap for confirmation, “grapefruit… smells like piss…” you had a sip, “tastes like it too.”

You chuckled to yourself and asked for a water. You made a show of swishing it around in your mouth before you moved onto the third beer.

“Had to cleanse the palate,” you joked, “now… lots of foam on this one, dark. You know, I’m pretty surprised they have Guinness here but let’s see…” you tasted it and crinkled your nose, “that’s it. Exactly like toilet water!”

You read some of the comments telling you to check the bottles for bugs and laughed. Suddenly you were yanked off the stool by the back of your shirt and your phone was swiped up by another man as the first restrained you. You struggled against his thick arm as it hooked around your neck and the leader of their crew stared at the screen of your cell.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he snarled as he hit the screen with his thumb but the stream kept going. He dropped the phone to the floor and stomped it instead.

“This is the bitch posting about us online,” the man at your back growled. It was Steve, the one with the weird walk.

“I doubt either of you know how to use a computer,” you scoffed, “hey, let me go.”

“And why would we do that when you’re snitching to the whole world, sweetheart?” Bucky kicked your phone away as he crossed his arms.

“Actually, I’m--” you grasped Steve’s arm as it threatened to get tighter, “--promoting your trash business. I was just having a tasting, if you had just asked--”

“Shut up!” Bucky stepped closer and brought your legs up and stopped him as you planted your feet against his stomach.

“Hey,” a woman’s voice came from behind the bar as the waitress shoved aside her empty tray, “hey, she’s just a kid.”

“Bullshit,” Bucky huffed, “she looks full-grown to me.”

“So what are you gonna do?” she said, “she’s young. You can’t--”

“Don’t tell me what I can’t do,” he snapped.

“She’s right,” another voice intoned and that man, Sam, came up beside them with a pool cue in hand, “she’s just goofing around.”

“She’s a rat,” Steve insisted.

“You’re being dramatic. It’s called a meme and you do walk a little strange,” he chuckled, “no one’s gonna follow her breadcrumbs back to this shithole anyway.”

Bucky considered Sam and then looked at Steve. He poked his cheek with his tongue and sucked his teeth.

“So… you vouching for her?” Bucky asked.

“She won’t cause any more trouble, promise,” Sam said, “I’ll make sure of it.”

“You better,” Bucky snapped his fingers and you were released, “get her out of here.” 

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Shielded. Chapter Four

Happy Sunday all, back to the usually scheduling this week. I hope you enjoy the next week of lockdown with Jamie and Claire <3 Mod MBD.

Anonymous said to imagineclaireandjamie: 

It does not matter what you bear, but how you bear it. [Seneca]

CHAPTER FOUR: WEEK TWO - Home and Away.

As Monday rolled around again, the weekend having passed by in a blur, Claire sat at the breakfast table with a fresh cup of coffee in her hands. Having ventured down during the day on both Saturday and Sunday, she had hoped to bump into Jamie and pass on her thanks to his generosity but he had been out before sunrise each day and she had been asleep before he’d returned home.

Resolute, however, she chose to spend her day downstairs and hopefully get something on for dinner before he came back so she could at least start the week off right.

Fate, however, wasn’t on her side. By 10pm, with the lasagne tucked away, wrapped in foil, in the fridge, she covered her mouth with a yawn and pulled herself up the stairs to bed.

The crash and smashing of a glass bought her out of her sleep as the clock beside her bed clicked over to 3am. Pulling herself from beneath the sheets, she crept downstairs, eager not to scare him as she approached the kitchen.

“Couldn’t sleep?” She asked, knowing full well he had only just returned home.

He was stood by the sink, cold lasagna on the countertop and his mucky boots still on his feet. With the fork held to his mouth, he smiled as he took another bite of the pasta, chewed and then shook his head. “I havena ever been the best sleeper but it’s lambing season, aye? One of them got into bother and I couldna leave her until I knew she was safe.”

“And she made it?”

“Aye. I was luckier tonight than I was at the weekend.”

“Oh, dear...that doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s the job, I’m afraid. If I didna lose at least a handful a year I’d be shocked.”

It was the first real (and longest) conversation they’d had since she’d arrived and she was suddenly grateful for the company. He was calm, grounded and relaxed in the way a lot of city dwellers weren’t. She could tell in the slump of his shoulders that it didn’t matter how long and awkward his day was, how messy or how little sleep he had gotten the night before, he was still weightless almost, free of the constraint modern living brought to most.

“I wanted to say thank you,” she broke in, remembering the reason she’d half-blindly stumbled down in the middle of the night, “you’ve been so amazing - to get me materials for a garden, that’s...above and beyond the call of duty.”

“Ach,” shaking his head, he finished the last of his supper, balled the tin foil up and placed it in the bin, “dinna fash yersel’ about that. It’s no’ a problem.”

He was embarrassed, she could tell. Abashed, his accent had become incredibly thick and almost impossible to understand. But it was quiet enough here that there was no background noise to blot out his sentence and luckily she didn’t have to ask him to repeat himself.

“Well, nonetheless,” ignoring the slight reddening of his cheeks she continued, “I am very grateful to you. For everything.”

With nothing more to say between them, she waved, smiled and backed off, feeling strangely pleased with herself for breaking the silence between them. Hopefully, she thought as she climbed the stairs back to her room, there would be some evenings in the future when they could eat together and she could show her appreciation by making him something warm and fresh.

-- --

By mid-week, she had yet to see Jamie again. His work was intense, and yet, despite that, he had still managed to begin construction of her tiny garden.

In her haste she had forgotten that she wasn’t allowed outside the house and, as she’d watched the greenhouse foundations being laid, she had become almost inconsolable about the fact that she probably wouldn’t get the chance to tend to any of the produce grown in it.

She knew, however, that safety was more important than new hobbies and she chose, instead, to make detailed lists of the daily needs of each of the seeds and plants Jamie had procured for her.

She started with the tomatoes and grapes, which needed to be contained within the glass walls in order to collect enough light and heat to survive. She noted water levels, soil PH and balance and daily rituals which would need to be abided by in order for the best crop to be formed. It filled most of her days and when the sun went down, she’d swap her notepad for the computer as she researched all the differences she might see in her fruit and veg determined all by the way they were treated as they grew.

Though she had never been an artist, she started to search for youtube videos on how botanical art could be created. Having no coloured pencil crayons or watercolours, she stuck to pencil sketches and began to leave more post-it’s, this time with future predictions on what the garden might produce for the household.

Once again Jamie enjoyed coming home. There had only been a few days lapse in her communications but when he didn’t see her for days, it was the one thing he could rely on to buoy his spirits.

They were different, in so many ways, but on a subconscious level, he pondered to himself at night as he held the drawing of some rare cabbage in his hands, Jamie felt as if they had very many similar quirks. He’d been pleased that his idea to leave her be for as long as she needed had been a success and was grateful she felt at home enough to reform her life around his. Her asking for the garden made him realise how easy it might be for someone else to fit into his own life without causing him much grief.

It was only a small thing, but to him it had made a huge difference. Having lived alone for so long, he had almost forgotten how malleable people could be. Though, he thought as he rifled around in the fridge for more pre-made meals, he had probably just gotten lucky with Claire.

The thought also occurred to him that she had been inadvertently raised more suited to this life than her old one, but he didn’t know enough about her to advance on the notion.

It wasn’t until late on Thursday when they came face to face together. After another heavy day and late night, Jamie finally toe-ed off his work boots at nearly midnight and made his way, quietly, through to the kitchen.

He had not expected to nearly bump straight into Claire has she dished up what looked like a very tasty stir fry.

“I thought you might be sick of reheating pasta dishes, so I thought I’d try and wait for you this time.”

“Ye didna have to, it’s very late.” He scratched the back of his neck bashfully, even she couldn;t find the truth in his words and she smiled as she placed a fresh bottle of soy sauce in the centre of the table. “But this does smell delicious.”

“It’s taken me a few attempts to hone it, but I’ve been practicing most evenings this week to try and get it perfect, flavour as well as how long I need to cook the veg for.”

“What’s the meat?” He asked, watching as his stomach rumbled audibly.”

“I used the duck, I hope you don’t mind. I used chicken earlier in the week but I couldn’t seem to get it as tender as I wanted it and a few forums online suggested that duck might be a better substitute if I wanted meat with a bit more moisture.”

“Perfect. Use any meat you want from the freeze, for anything. Honestly, I forget most of the time what I’ve got in there.”

Placing several bowls filled with various meats, vegetables and sides, she went back to the sink to wash the remaining stickiness of her hands before beckoning him to start without her. “I had hoped you weren’t saving anything for a special occasion.”

“Ach, I think the virus has put pay to anything like that for a while,” he began, filling his plate with noodles, duck and beansprouts, “my sister - she lives in Canada now - had planned a summer visit, but we’re no’ sure of anything at the moment.”

“Is she the one in the photo,” Claire enquired, taking a mouthful of her own concoction and swallowing back the relief when it tasted nice - a mixture of sweet and savory that wasn’t as overpowering or as dry as it had been earlier on in the day when she’d made the first of the final tests. “The one with brown hair?”

“Aye, she is. Her partner, Ian, got a job out there a few years ago and they emigrated. We talk as often as we can on Skype and FaceTime but it’s become sporadic recently wi’ my erratic work hours. She’s a nurse, ya see, and works odd shift patterns too. But we try and keep in touch at least once a month.”

“Do you miss her?”

“I didna really think about it, we were close....until we werena. Then they moved away and I fell into a new routine.”

He had begun to speak without thinking, filling up the silence with answers to her questions as they ate in between conversation. He had, though, had the forethought to stop before giving too much away. The thought hurt his heart and he had to inhale between a bite of his dinner to gather himself back up. He knew, given time, that he would be alright with sharing his past (as he hoped she would be with hers) but tonight wasn’t the night for revelations.

Sensing his reluctance to continue, she moved on, understanding that she herself wasn’t in a place to open up about her own family life.

“I can imagine Skype is about the only way most are communicating at the moment.” Sighing, she started to collect the empty dishes and load the dishwasher. “I’m quite grateful, actually, that I don’t have anyone to keep in touch with. It’s all...quite scary.”

It was the first time Jamie had consciously thought about the pandemic, being cut off from the outside world had its benefits and he felt relieved that he could separate himself from the constant barrage of news that he supposed others would be exposed to. He realised that both he and Claire were unique now, part of a smaller section of society where being remote was almost a blessing rather than a curse.

“If you ever need to talk, lass,” standing, he helped to clean up the remaining mess from dinner, his hand almost brushing against hers as he wiped the countertop down, breaking only to hover for a second before returning to his job, “ye know where I am. Please dinna think you have nobody...if yer concerned, aye?”

“Thank you Jamie.” Pulling her fleece cardigan across her chest she walked slowly to the kitchen door, pausing for a second in the doorway just to make sure she’d left nothing out to go cold and mouldy overnight. “The same to you. I’m a good listener, I promise, if you ever need to talk, or if you need any help.”

She’d been thinking about his life on the farm for a few days now, watching the rolling hills out of her window, seeing the sheep and cattle on the horizon and -very occasionally- seeing the silhouette of him roaming his land. There was little she could do from indoors, she knew, but there had been chores around the house that she could potentially complete. Putting herself to task, she had learned new basic kitchen skills but only this morning she’d noticed the beginnings of a hole on the seam of his trousers as they dried on the rail in the courtyard and she thought it might be something she could tend to...should he be alright with it.

Leaving with the quiet settling calmly between them, she noted the relaxing of the muscles in his face as he smiled and nodded as she turned and carried herself to bed.

Resting against the faux-marble worktop, Jamie closed his eyes as he waited for the soft slam of her bedroom door before he followed her up. She just might, he thought to himself as he undressed himself, taking a towel from his radiator and making his way to the shower, be better equipped for this life than I am.

[icarusthelunarguard]

This Week’s Horrible-Scopes

Aries

Your old workmates are disappointed in you. They thought you’d become more gregarious when you went out drinking, and they were wrong. But what do they know, right? Alcoholic drinks with whole milk in them have Vitamin-D in them, and since you hardly get any sun as it is, that’s a perfectly reasonable thing to drink. Even if the house mixologist gave you a funny look.

Taurus

You are going to be the butt of a great joke for Halloween. Specifically a horse’s butt. Make sure the person you’re dressing up with has good hygiene, doesn’t mind getting breathed on, and knows how to keep a secret. You might also want to consider a snorkel just in case.

Gemini

You're just a freaking liar, and we all know it. That hook-up you claimed you had with someone from Saskatchewan? Yeah, we called every phone number in every area code in the province, and you know what we found out? They said you were such a bad kisser they faked passing out on you! By the way, you owe us $37.75 in international direct-dial charges.

Cancer Moon-Child

Deny it all you want, Cancer, but you’re getting old. If we play a word recollection game, you’ll understand. Do the following terms make sense to you: “PEEK”, “POKE”, “GOTO”, and “LOAD Star Comma Eight Comma One”? If any of them instantly make you see blue, you’re officially OLD! Get over yourself.

Leo

Your plans to write The Next Great American Novel aren’t going to work. Your memory is lacklustre at best and your grasp of grammatical nuances to properly illuminate mental images in someone else is laughably pedestrian. Unless you can learn to write it in a British accent your prose is going nowhere. --and Yorkshire does NOT count!

Virgo

Your opinions of the world would be better crafted if you cared about people more. We know you’re as stuck up as they come, but would it kill you to be nice once in a while to other lives? Honking your horn to scare a cat off your car is only barely “nice”. You can do better.

Libra

Time to get your tomato plants ready for the winter. Let them stay on the porch until the first frost hits, then take any green tomatoes indoors. At that point you’ll have to decide if you want to grow the plant inside, or save the seeds and grow a new plant next spring. Better make up your mind; squirrels will be after your plants too.

Scorpio

Your paranoia about who is listening to your electronic communications is so cute! Anything radio-based can be picked up - bluetooth, wifi, 4 and 5G, Citizen’s Band, hell even your microwave oven gives off radio waves! It’s possible to bounce a laser off a window and hear what’s being said like a Police Radar Gun on steroids. Enjoy talking in your sleep.

Sagittarius

You’re ready to steal the show, except there’s someone already in the spotlight. This is a good thing for you. Work behind the scenes, in the dark, so that you can take their place when they implode under their own hubris. Memorize some Shakespearean insults while you’re at it.

Capricorn

Consider this line from a children’s cartoon rated “TV-Y”, meaning aimed at children 2 - 6 years old. “I never should have banished you to the moon... I SHOULD HAVE DESTROYED YOU!" They can’t use, as Deadpool says, “The K-Word”, but they totally meant that Daybreaker was saying she should have “Un-Alived” Nightmare Moon. So, yeah. My Little Pony Friendship is Magic… A show for kids. Ri-i-i-ight.

Aquarius

Learning the ins and outs of the quantum mechanical end of the Universe through YouTube will not earn you a diploma in the subject. Having sat through a twenty-five minute video on the subject without falling asleep is admirable! You can safely invest $20 in “Quantum Physics for Dummies” next.

Pisces

No horse’s tongue in your ear, no horse’s love-bites on your shoulder, and no broken toes from a misplaced hoof. You’ve survived a week of setting horseshoes to horses and you’re wondering why they fired you? Because you ran the dirty ones through the clothes washing machine. They’re Dry Clean Only! Next time read all the instructions before you set off on a new vocation.

[hypmicblr]

title : Beat Red word count : 935

summary : You head over to the Yamada household for another casual gaming night.

“Hey,” you whispered, tapping on the shoulder of your classmate. “Could you pass this to Yamada-kun?”

Your classmate knew the drill, and didn’t bother turning around as you handed him a folded up scrap of notebook paper. Its contents as innocuous as they come; a mere question asking if you could still come over after school. But oh, passing notes in class, how scandalous. Detention was almost inevitable if you were found out.

Jiro, fool that he was, turned around when your classmate offered him the note. Your hawk-like teacher was quick to single him out.

“Yamada-kun!”

Jiro whipped his head around to the front of the classroom, utterly frozen in place in his chair.

“Y-Yes!?”

“I know you find poetry boring, but please try and pay attention. You wouldn’t want me to call your brother for the third time this week, would you?”

Jiro’s shoulders dropped. The class burst out laughing.

“Y-Yes…”

You couldn’t see his face, but it was probably beet red in that way it always was when he got embarrassed. Poor guy. You would have to apologize to him for that later.

After class, you met up with Jiro in the hallway. You apologized for (almost) getting him in trouble (again) and he shrugged it off like he always did.

“So did you read my note?” You asked.

“Oh, I was so scared of getting scolded again that I forgot all about it.”

“That’s okay, I just wanted to know if I could still come over today, that’s all.”

“Oh, yeah.” He nodded. “You can still come over if you want. Today’s my brothers day off, so he should be home unless he’s shopping or something.”

“Great!” You beamed. You were just going to hang out and play video games, but you’d been looking forward to this little get together all week. “I need to stop by the convenience store first, then I can meet up with you at your place.”

“Oh, okay.” Jiro sounded disappointed. “Actually, can I, uh. Can I go with you? I need to get some stuff too.”

You smiled. “Sure.”

You stopped by the bathroom on your way out, and walked with Jiro from the school gate to the convenience store a ways down the street. He walked with his hands in his pockets and let you do most of the talking. You would say something, and he’d say very little in response. You’d crack a joke, and he’d laugh.

He very clearly liked you and you very clearly liked him, and everyone else knew it, but your relationship didn’t go beyond that. Stuck in a cruelly self-imposed limbo, with neither of you knowing how to confess your feelings for each other and break free. Not that your friends and classmates didn’t tease you both relentlessly for it, however.

Jiro ended up leaving the convenience store empty handed. You bought an ice cream cone for yourself, and you slowly finished it off while you walked with Jiro by your side.

Ichiro was the one to greet you two at the door, with that smug smirk and questioning look you came to know so well. “Back for more again, are we?”

“Cut it out,” said Jiro, his face already turning red.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby, Jiro. I’m just teasing you.” He turned towards you. “Are you hungry?”

You shook your head.

“No? You sure? …Alright, well, come on in. There’ll be leftovers in the fridge if you want ‘em.”

You two quickly headed for the living room after Ichiro let you guys in. It was empty, thankfully, and it didn’t look like anyone had called dibs on the gaming console yet. (Score!)

You sat in your usual spot on the couch while Jiro looked through his games. He held up a copy of My Happy Little Home, a cute farming simulator with an emphasis on building relationships with other people and nature.

“You like this one right?”

You smiled. “Yup. It’s my favorite game.”

He popped the game in without another word, turned the console on, and handed you a controller before sitting down on the couch next to you. The game was single-player (for the most part), but allowed other people to join you on your farm to help out.

The title screen loaded and you opened your save file. There was a second save file, which you guessed belonged to Jiro, but he had only put a few hours into his file. And by the looks of it, yours was left untouched.

You two picked up where you’d left off the last time you came over, and you played for hours. Ichiro interrupted you once for food, and Saburo interrupted you periodically to ask questions about the game.

Jiro was kind enough to answer his questions for you, as you didn’t want to be rude by telling him to just play the damn game himself. Jiro continued to answer Saburo’s volley of questions until he asked him how he knew so much about the game, despite only having put a handful of hours into it.

“You’re annoying, Saburo,” Jiro spat.

“You only play when they come over.” Saburo pointed out.

Jiro’s face was redder than the tomatoes on your farm by now. “Fuck. Off.”

Saburo smiled a catty smile. “Oh, I see.”

That seemed to be the answer Saburo was looking for, because he promptly fucked off.

“Sorry about him,” Jiro said to you with a defeated look.

You gave him a sympathetic smile. “It’s okay,” you said. “Want to play Space Fighter Z now? That’s your favorite game, right?”

Jiro beamed. “Yeah!”

[war-sword]

what can i get you? (2)

part 2 | index | masterlist

draco x female reader [muggle AU, slightly aged up]

summary: One handsome Draco Malfoy is the only boy you trust at your new job to tie your ties. words: 3,139 a/n: i’m so glad y’all are liking this it validates me in that this isn’t boring as fuck :D once again too many details i looked up for this HAHAHA. also in case you missed it last time this story has a playlist! it’s a mix of songs i hear a lot while at my job and also others i name/ envision in this story. taglist: @clockworkherondale @accio-rogers @mayorofzillyhoo @diademofdraco @drawlfoy @ladybuginthetardis @silversslytherin @lushlavenderskies @socontagiousimagines @acciodracoo @eltanin-malfoy @maceyisntcool @newhopenessie​ @hp-slaps

read the rest of my masterlist

◈◈◈

The next time you work, it’s a much smaller event; a charity fundraiser at a small venue (this meant just plain black collared shirts, no ties, thank goodness). There’s only six people working including you, and you’re a little sad to see that Draco isn’t one of them. Luckily, Pansy is there, and none of the people are interested in the goat cheese and date appetizers you’ve been passing, so you sit on the metal kitchen counters with her, Theo and Blaise and eat them.

“Buffet parties are so nice,” Blaise sighs, putting another tiny piece of flatbread into his mouth. “We only really bus once. The dream.”

Pansy picks up the piece of paper that has the catering itinerary and menu printed out on it. “Holy fuck, this party ends at nine thirty. I might actually get to sleep at a normal time tonight.”

“What, no, let me see!” Theo rips the paper from her hands, and looks at it with a surprised expression. “Oh, shit, it does.”

Pansy does a little dance, and Blaise takes a photo of the paper with his phone. A minute later it buzzes with a notification, and he laughs as he reads it. “Yo, Draco is cheesed. He’s at the other party with Gabrielle in Brixton, he probably won’t get back ‘till one.”

“Poor bastard,” says Theo. “Take a photo.”

Blaise opens up his Snapchat camera, and you all squeeze into the frame. Theo poses with a goat cheese flatbread up to his mouth. Blaise captions it “sucks to suck”, and hits send. Draco responds almost immediately.

The photo is only of the top half of his face, and from the angle you can tell he’s in the kitchen. “This wedding has three courses, kill me,” is one caption. Another textbox right below says “tell new girl I said hey xx”.

You can feel all three of your coworkers staring at you as the Snapchat expires. “Give me that,” you say to Blaise, and they all laugh. Blaise hands you his phone. You take a similar photo, furrowing your brows. “calling me new girl? and xx-ing in the same sentence? the audacity.” you caption it. Draco takes less than ten seconds to snap back. 

This one is once again, the top half of his face, but features one of his perfectly-shaped brows in a high arch. “how else am I supposed to make an impression?” it says, with “add me, dmalfoy17” below. 

The snap was a full seven seconds, and you stare at it until it expires. You hand Blaise back his phone and whip your own out from your back pocket. 

“What’d he say?” Pansy asks, snatching the last flatbread away from Theo’s hand. 

“Something cheeky,” you shrug, playing it off. Meanwhile, you open Snapchat and type in his username into the ‘add friend’ bar. 

“Typical,” Theo mumbles, watching wistfully as Pansy eats the last appetizer. “I’m going to go check on how the tables are looking, see how many people have food so far.”

Draco Malfoy added you back!

You Snapchat Draco every chance you get as you finish up at your party, and once everything is packed you help take everything down to the loading dock and pack the truck. You and Pansy walk to your cars together, and you take a video of the two of you captioned “we out ” with the timestamp sticker reading a blissful 9:43. Draco sends back a photo of himself in the kitchen again, a text box full of angry emojis.

You say goodnight to Pansy. “You’re working tomorrow, right?” 

“Yeah,” she says, standing on the doorframe of her car to look at you over the roof. “At Sunbeam Studios. You?”

“Same.”

“Nice,” she smiles. “I think most of us will be there, it’s supposed to be a big one. See you then.”

You hop in your own car and clock out. When you get home you take a quick shower and collapse into bed. You have three new Snapchats from Draco. In one of them he says he’s also working at Sunbeam tomorrow, and you smile in spite of yourself. You take a photo of you snuggled in your sheets, and caption it “going to sleep now just to flex on you. see you tomorrow.” You send it and put your phone on your bedside table. The buzz of your notifications cuts through the silence of your room, but you resist the urge to check them. 

The next day you arrive at Sunbeam and clock in. This venue is much bigger than the other’s, and when you walk through the back door your guess is confirmed that tonight will be a fancy wedding. Sure enough, Gabrielle hands you your uniform and asks you to go ahead and change, directing you to a closet. 

You put on the dress shirt and slip the vest on, and lastly tackle the tie. You thread it under your collar, and try to repeat the steps Draco showed you last week. Over, across, wait, that doesn’t look right. Which end was the short one? You try a few more methods and then sigh in defeat. You put your normal shirt into your backpack and leave the closet in search of one boy.

You walk around the back, which is bigger than the other venues you’ve been to, and find Draco in the kitchen. He’s still dressed in his street clothes and is helping organize trays of food to be heated that other people are bringing in from the truck. You walk up and tap him on the shoulder. 

“Oh, hey! Wow, you’re on time.”

He looks so genuinely excited to see you that you can’t help but grin. “Help?” You hold up the ends of your tie.

“Of course.” Draco takes up your tie and starts to knot it. You don’t even try to pay attention.

“Who else is here?”

“Just you so far, besides those of us who came from the warehouse with the truck. Gabrielle is about to loose her fucking mind if the rest of you don’t start showing up. She needs all the passers to help her make the bread boards and set up the salad course.” He finishes your tie and gives it a little tap, and then another to the end of your nose. Your chest feels like it’s collapsing in on itself. 

“You’re not serving tonight?” You busy yourself with the buttons on your vest as you talk.

Draco leans against the counter and pulls a face. “No, sorry. They need me in the kitchen.” He nods his head in the direction of the door that must lead to the reception area. “Gabrielle’s out there, you should probably go.”

“Sorry,” you say, walking around the other side of the counter. “I’m still trying to process this betrayal.”

“I’m sorry! I’ll make you a box and save you some cake.” He leans on his elbows, looking up at you as you rest your back on the door. “Just come hang out with me in here when you’re not bussing– it’s a buffet so there should be some downtime. I’ll just yell at the others if they try to take a break back here.”

You laugh and try to think of something tricky to reply with when the door is ripped out from behind you, causing you to stumble backwards. Draco snorts. 

“Y/N! Come on, I need your help. Draco, stop distracting her!” Gabrielle does look incredibly flustered. 

“I was just coming,” you say, and Draco holds up his hands in mock surrender. 

You help Gabrielle arrange various breads on trays, along with scoops of hummus and goat cheese. You’re adding olives to the trays when Pansy walks in, doing the last buttons on her vest. Gabrielle practically throws a box of crackers at her and tells her to start adding them on, rambling on about how stressed she is. “...And then we left two boxes of food at the warehouse and I had to go back and get it… luckily we’re the closest. If it was the other party we’re doing tonight I would’ve lost my mind. That one’s all the way in Watford, they never would’ve made it back and forth in time.”

You politely listen, nodding when appropriate. You’re finishing the trays when Greg and Vincent walk in, in the midst of doing their ties and putting on the vests. Gabrielle yells at them to finish getting dressed later and to start assembling salads, shoving a bag of greens into Greg’s arms and a bag of shredded carrot to Vincent. “We’ll just assemble them on the plates out here. Please be neat.” 

You fill water glasses while they walk around and make the salads directly onto the plates, assembly line style. Pansy is following behind Greg, adding raisins to the beds of greens he’s laying down. You watch her for a moment as she adjusts the amount of salad on each plate, taking from plates with too much and adding to ones with too little before sprinkling her raisins. You catch her eye and she shakes her head furiously at Greg’s incompetence. 

Once all the glasses are filled, you help set out the bread trays onto the tables and head to the back to take a break while everyone waits for the guests to arrive from the ceremony. Draco and Theo are the only ones in the kitchen tonight, opening boxes of food and assembling appetizers onto trays. You grab the menu sheet off of the cooler and skim it. As usual, it all sounds delicious. 

“These people must love mexican food,” Pansy says, looking over your shoulder. “Who asks for two types of tacos at their wedding?”

“White people who want to be funky,” Theo says, pulling a pan of the goat cheese flatbreads from the oven and replacing it with one of chopped fried fish. 

Draco pulls the wrapping off a cardboard box to reveal miniature taco shells made from blue corn. “I don’t think we’ve ever made these.”

Gabrielle bursts into the kitchen to tell the four of you who helped set up to start passing. The goat cheese and tomato mozzarella flatbreads are the only thing that’s ready. You and Pansy each put on a single glove and place six appetizers around the edges of your circular serving trays, grab some napkins and head out. 

You weave through guests in the lobby, the pleasant sound of the string quartet that’s in the corner filling your ears. A group of bridesmaids in seafoam dresses stop you before you get very far and wipe your tray clean. Clearly everyone is starving, because they ask you to come back as soon as you can. 

When you return to the kitchen, Draco has a specially shaped wooden board with six tiny tacos in the little grooves ready for you. “They’re so cute. What’s in them?” You ask as you put down your empty tray for Theo to refill and pick up the board to examine them

Draco pauses in filling another taco and looks over at the menu paper. “Uh, sriracha chicken. Want to try?”

You nod. You move to put down the board, but Draco holds out the one he just made, and you open your mouth. You try to eat it as neatly as you can in one bite from his hand.  He gives you a questioning look, and you nod approvingly. “‘S good,” you say after swallowing. 

“Hey, stop stealing from the guests,” Theo teases. He leans towards Draco and opens his mouth dramatically. “I wanna get fed, too.”  

“Get your own,” Draco deadpans. 

You laugh at Theo’s offended face, and hurry out of the kitchen to hide your blush. It’s not from the spice. 

Tiny tacos are a big hit. You abandon passing the flatbread appetizers, waiting in the kitchen every time for Draco to fill your board. When he opens the next box of miniature shells, you’re all surprised to see that they’re yellow. Twenty minutes after that, the final box is filled with red ones. “If I’d known they were different, I would’ve mixed them!” 

“You’re fired, Draco,” Pansy mocks. “Out of the kitchen. You’re never allowed to touch tacos again.”

There’s a short break for the passers while the guests recess into the reception room and eat the salad course. Then you’re sent out to start collecting plates, and to tell the guests the buffet is open for them to get food at their leisure. 

The night goes on like usual– out on the floor, try not to drop any dishes, someone asks for a new fork, bus the plates in the back. This venue has a place for outdoor bussing, which you find nice since the weather is pleasant. Once it hits 9:30, it’s a struggle to take plates from guests who are still eating or sipping the very last of their drinks, as usual. You haven’t taken a break all night, because every time you would head out onto the floor there were dishes on every table to take. You dump the ice from some cocktail glasses into the liquids bucket and peek around the corner to where the truck is parked. Greg and Vincent are sitting on the back of the truck, sharing a cigarette and staring at their phones. You sigh in annoyance and put the glasses into their designated crate. If those two can take a break, you’re going to also.

You walk back into the building and into the kitchen. Draco’s the only one in there, sitting on a cooler and checking his phone as well. “Hey.”

He looks up as you settle onto the cooler next to him, stretching out your legs and popping your neck. “Hey. They keeping you busy out there?” Draco asks.

“Yes,” you sigh. “That, and Pansy and I are the only ones bussing. Greg and Vincent are out at the truck skiving off.”

“I’ll put Gabrielle on them,” Draco says. “They’re always doing that. At least they’re learning to not hang around where I can see them.”

“Where’s Theo?” You rub on your right shoulder– it’s gotten incredibly tight from carrying your heavy tray all night.

“Cutting the cake. You’ll have those plates soon, and that’ll be it.” Draco sets his phone on the counter and shifts towards you, motioning for you to turn also.  “Let me.”

Draco digs his thumbs into your tense muscles and you can’t help but groan. “Ugh, that feels heavenly.”

“You’ve got to switch the arms you carry with, Y/N. You’re so much tighter on the right.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, leaning into his touch.

The bliss of having Draco’s hands work your tense muscles is sadly short lived. Theo comes into the kitchen with the rest of the cake, having served all the guests. It’s got three different layers, vanilla, chocolate, and carrot, and you have a tiny slice of each. 

“We’re gonna go take down the buffet, what do you want me to save you?” Draco says, boxing up the untouched top layer of cake to put in the refrigerator for the new couple.

“Just some of the mac n cheese and veggies, please.” You grab your bussing tray and head back out onto the floor. Greg and Vincent have reappeared, and when there’s only a few tables left with cake plates you head to the back again. Draco is loading up the truck while Theo cleans the kitchen. “Want me to bring you these glass crates?” You call to Draco.

“Please!”

You carry the crates of glasses and dirty dishes from the bussing area to Draco in the back of the truck. You’re pretty strong, but Draco takes even the heaviest crates from you with ease. Why are boys allowed to be so muscular for no reason? 

“We’re missing some glasses, did you get everything off the floor?” Draco leans against the wall inside truck, looking down at you on the ground. He’s shiny with sweat, and he lifts up the bottom of his shirt to wipe his forehead off, giving you a great view of his toned abdomen. 

“Uh.” You continue to stare at him even as he drops his shirt, your mouth going dry. “I’m pretty sure.”

“Hopefully they’ll turn up.” Draco checks his watch. “It’s already eleven, why do people never want to fucking leave?”

You turn around to glance at the windows, still glowing blue from the lights inside, ‘Build Me Up Buttercup’ easily heard even from outside. You stare at the lights for a few seconds, trying to blink away the image of shirtless Draco from your mind. “Dunno.” 

When you turn back, he’s staring at you now. Draco jumps off the back of the truck and lands lightly beside you. “Let’s go help Theo in the kitchen, see if we can get everything else ready.”

The rest of the supplies are pretty much packed and ready to be brought to the truck. Everyone who had put on a uniform is changing back into their street clothes, and Pansy is taking off her dress shirt in the middle of the kitchen without a care. You momentarily wonder what would happen if you decided that bold, but end up going out into the hall to slip out of your uniform. 

They’ve finally turned on the lights in the reception room, and you all head out to do one last sweep of the floor, checking under tablecloths for stray forks or napkins. You find a few and carry them to the back, and the few glasses you were missing earlier make their appearance. Gabrielle shoos you all from the kitchen at last, telling you to go home. 

You put your takeout box Draco had made you into your backpack and head towards the parking lot, when you hear footsteps catching up with you. It’s Draco, and he’s carrying a giant bunch of white flowers that you recognize as the centerpieces from the tables. “Are you stealing?” You chide.

“See, I was going to give you some, but now I’m rethinking it,” he smirks. “I sometimes like to take them. My mum loves white lilies.”

“That’s sweet.” 

You’ve reached your car, and he stops with you, holding out the giant bunch. “Pick some.”

You make a serious face as you select a handful of flowers and bring them up to your nose. They still smell wonderful. “Thanks, Draco.”

“No problem.” He throws you a wink and turns on his heel. “See you next week, Y/N.”

You get into your car and clock out, setting the flowers on your dashboard. When you get back to your flat you carefully arrange them in one of your tallest glasses in some water, and set them on your counter. They’re a nice reminder to get you through your week.

◈◈◈

don’t you wish draco malfoy would give you a shoulder massage on the clock and give you flowers.... damn

[artdjgblog]

Innerview: ​Sonya Baughman​ / Review Magazine​

July 2008

Image: DJG's "Live & Let Die" Record by Paul McCartney & Wings

Note: Interview for a magazine feature.​

01) Where did you grow up and where do you live now? My young cloth diapers treaded a lot of dirt, dead animal and doggy acres in the North Central stick regions of Missouri, Mid-West, USA. Currently, adult plastic diapers drag and sag me in mid-town Kansas City, MO. The first six years had me bucking bales, falling off hay wagons, piercing my cheek on a hay bale stinger, assisting with the old cow stuck in the mud, designing elaborate tunnels and forts from tomato cages, watching “The Muppets” and “Star Wars” a lot, hearing scary stories of Leopard Man, posing for many pictures with dead and live animals, rocking out in cowboy boots to “Live & Let Die” on my Papa Smurf guitar, and crying at night to my raccoon wallpaper…among many other early formative brain tattoos. Act Two had many dry summers and the bank repossessing the farm and moving us to the home and acres where my Dad grew up. The new place had a blacktop in front of it and a gravel lane with a bridge/creek. The blacktop was a reservoir for leaving behind summertime shoe and bike impressions and for popping tar bubbles in the blistering heat. I also was of age to really explore and build many forts and treehouses in the ditches, barns and woods. Also, I started to go hunting and spend time in the fields with my Dad. We never had a shortage of animals and pets too. A lot of spare time was also spent in the sandbox or in the bedroom designing and building things based on what I saw and experienced. There was also a massive in-take of drawing and pop-culture from comics, books, music, television and movies. There wasn’t much of a cap on what my siblings and I could devour. Oh, and loads of sugary sweets and cereals. Go thr​ough the yearly motions and I end up at Southwest Missouri State University in Springfield, MO. There I got some very formal education and incredible interaction with students and design professors from the great making thing ways of Eastern Europe and Russia. I pretty much maxed out my art and design class card and was even making a ton of design work on the side for musicians. I then received a higher calling to drop out of school and make my guts out in Kansas City, MO which is where I’ve flopped around now for the past seven years. 02) Talk a little about your artistic background. Are you self-taught, did you go to college for art (if so, where)? My background is painted with loads of pop-culture from the 1980s and ’90s mixed in with the soil of farm life. I also designed and built many elaborate tree houses and forts up until the age of eighteen and spent most any spare minute in the sandbox or locked in my room drawing, reading, studying, video game playing, movie watching and just playing in general. I’ve never understood people’s ability to get bored or to not use the creation within them to ooze life out. I’ve enjoyed drawing comics, sports mascots and WWII battle scenes with my Dad at a young age that involved aircraft carriers, tanks and flags of those involved in conflict. My older brother would also draw a lot with me. He was better though. My younger sister and brother were pretty solid too. We have no idea where our creativity came from other than a great uncle, maybe? Also in my youth I would make giant collages out of magazine clippings and lots of mix tapes of Dr. Demento’s bizarre radio program and recorded and memorized many a variety of cartoon episodes and cool shows like Pee​-w​ee’s Playhouse. I’ve also been a constant collector all my life. Back in the day I was all about the whole spectrum of toys, comics, ball cards, cereal boxes and loads of other junk…even kept dead animal parts under my bed. In the fifth grade I won a county wide logo contest for a skating and bowling fun center and it was the first time I realized disappointment with design as my logo was butchered by those higher-up. In middle-school up until my junior year of high school I studied more comics, logos, sports architecture and wanted desperately to design new-vintage baseball stadiums until the realization of my poor math skills hit like a ton of collapsed buildings. I even won a Kansas City Royals baseball essay contest. Getting made fun of daily in high school stunk, but it really fueled my work ethic, dreams and caused me to lock up in my bedroom at night. Though, I still wish I would have worked harder in my youth. I still really enjoy working hard and being alone to this day. In the summer of 1996 I was selected to attend the first ever Missouri Fine Arts Academy and learned that I had more to offer with my insides and got a chance to interact with more likeminded minds. I came back to my senior year of high school with notebooks of typographic graffiti designs and a whole new language of what I thought was the art world. There was also a new art teacher at my school and he was serious and seriously cool and recognized that I had something to offer. I also came back to my senior year with more confidence in expressing myself and decided to dive into the world of graphic design for my post-high school studies. I had no idea what I was going to really do with it, but I knew I just wanted to use my gift of making stuff for the rest of my life. And graphic design somehow promised a bit more security in money than going the fine art route. Though, I’ve now managed to merge the two and to still not make any money. My high school scores had me at number 12 out of 24 in my class and I scraped the bottom of the test barrels to get me into college. Southwest Missouri State University in Springfield, MO said I could come and so I did. They were the only institution I applied for and I had liked it from my three week stay at Fine Arts Academy the previous year. College was great, but I could tell quickly that I wasn’t a top art pup like I was in my small school way back down the line. I was with the bigger dogs now. I struggled with drawing classes because I realized that I wasn’t as good as I had been told I was for the previous eighteen years. That was a set-back and I still wish to this day I would have worked harder at drawing. But, mostly I have trouble drawing in a cramped room with a ton of people breathing down my neck and at certain times of the day. The introduction and foundation art classes were more my calling and I could take the stuff home and work alone and all night. Most of my friends complained because they couldn’t wait until sophomore year when we would be on the computer for design. I didn’t really understand what I was getting into with graphic design. In fact, one day I exclaimed to my friends that I was taking the graphic design route that didn’t use computers and was entirely hands-on. They thought I was pretty insane for saying that and pretty much called me a fool. It’s kind of funny now though. I was so naïve at 18 and 19 to what the formal graphic design world was and I think I still am ten years later. Back when I was more bushy-tailed, I just wanted to make things and cut stuff out and not chain up to a computer…and I guess I’m still bushy-tailed, though I have a computer and use it mostly as a tool. When I finally did get placed in front of a computer, it was a struggle and I just couldn’t get into it and past the screen barrier. It almost stopped me from majoring in graphic design. But, we weren’t on the computer all the time as we were taught to conceptualize and to think and to be hands-on too. But, we needed to know the computer too. I just couldn’t get along with the computer for the longest time. Of course, the computer whiz kids just couldn’t wait for the next semester that involved a wordy world called typography. Which, naively enough I thought was about the art of map making. I liked maps, so I was excited too. But, I soon found out it was a whole new world that would poison the ABCs in me forever…good and bad. At least in type class we were still taught to think and do things by hand before messing with computer fonts. That first year or two of official design school was just terrible for me as I felt I wasn’t really “getting” it and didn’t think I would be happy as a graphic designer. I was just fulfilling project requirements and with zero heart or much care. It wasn’t until I haphazardly signed up to duel major in illustration that things started to make music inside of me. I began to really pour myself out and realize that I could approach things in a similar light as to when I was a child and be happy. Illustration saved me and I found my voice with it and my classmates and instructors started noticing. The energy there was great and everybody fed off of each other and helped each other see in new light(s). I also began to understand the valuable importance of the experience of my schooling as the instructors not only had a unique style of teaching, but they also had interesting backgrounds and culture from Eastern Europe and Russia. I could mildly relate to them as I was a transplant from the foreign farm world of North Missouri. After many design trips to studios I began to feel a very empty feeling with the profession I had chosen to represent my working life. It was not what I wanted to do with a “career”, or my time. I didn’t wish to work in a factory of fried monitor goo-lash. I wanted to just make stuff and at my own pace and pleasure. I was also very protective of my work and wanted parental rights and not for it to belong to another man’s name or dream. My love for music started to fuse with design and I began to start making many things on the side for musicians, which spread to other types of word-of-mouth work for me. An eye-popping lecture by modern rock poster designer Art Chantry sealed my personal deal for wanting to do my own thing. Shortly after that I decided I needed to change many gears in my life and secretly drop out of school following my final design class in the fall of 2001 and live with a band (and some) in a big old dilapidated orange house behind the original Lamar’s Donuts in Kansas City, MO. While some senior students had trouble looking for one real world client to work with for their final projects, I had close to 10 off the top of my head and whole bunch of future blank pages to fill. 03) During the time you have been making art have you always been drawn to this type of graphic expression? Did you “find” a style or did a style find you? I’d say a bit of both. I’ve never really gone for a set “style”. I’m sure that I’ve got one that has become recognizable to my thumb prints. Honestly, I never really think too hard about what I’m making or the why or how of the making until I have to answer questions like this. Then I start to over-think things. Also, whenever I’m told that I’m a good collagist or good at hand type or so-and-so rendering, then that is the only time I really make an effort to switch gears. I have boiled the majority of my output to be relational to the immediacy of my moods, thoughts, tickles, inclination and whatevers. Though, sometimes life can get in the way and I’ll have to slide down a small sliver of time and energy depletion, like I am with trying to get this writing out on time! But, I’m a big fan of cranking stuff out no matter what. Life is pretty darn short to sit on my hands. It seems that style can be a bit of a drag for some people and/or a hole. I’ve always been more in-tune to the folks who just follow what their gut, heart, hands and eyes speak instead of creating a set template. Some people never stray too far from that and only a few can truly get away with it. Edward Gorey is perhaps one of the few who could really make it work for me. I would certainly love to draw and think as well as he did, but I might be quite miserable doing the same thing over and over even if I was able to do it for a living. I think that a lot of people get confused and think they need to have a style and either invent one or pick other people’s noses instead of sniffing what they’ve been wearing all their life. Style to me is a lot like decorating or something. Though, at the same time that decoration might marriage perfectly to what somebody thinks they need. I don’t know though. Sometimes I think it’s funny when we as people think we need something to look or feel a certain way that’s already been communicated or visualized. I think that sometimes we are too caught up in what’s done before instead of thinking for ourselves. I’m guilty too. What’s really confusing to me, on a personal level, is when I get a request like, “We like all your work so make whatever you want!” and then the client ends up being really disappointed because it wasn’t in their “style” and then it’s awkward. Style is just an odd thing to me. But, most things are. I try to just trust my gutty heart and just make. 04) Do you see your work as communicating your identity or as helping to communicate the identity and message of others? … or both? I see it as me communicating what I’ve gathered from being on the Earth for 29 ½ years and spreading that manure the best I can. It’s a heaping helping to tell the story of others by telling my story. Most of my work fits into fine art and design, at least I’m always told that. I’m not really sure. Of late I’ve been pushing into more of the fine art bin. But, I’m not a big fan of labeling things and I would like to do many things with this thing I do. With design, one does have a role to play with helping somebody else tell their story, and at times, sell their story. There is also a responsibility to the venue the product is in or where it will eventually end up, whether a fine package on a shelf or a poster in the gutter. I feel it can be easy for a designer to lose perspective of the role playing. With leaving behind an identity…well, I like the idea of a paper trail, time-line and bruising thumb prints on this life. However, I don’t necessarily have the intent to say “Hey, look at me.” I am just another human, and one who happens to make things. If the work speaks or inspires (probably frightens and confuses on occasion), then that means a lot to me, especially in these fast-paced and flashy “everyone’s a designer-decorator” times with millions of images and advertisements everywhere. I think it’s great to recognize and at times celebrate gifts and achievement. But, I feel there needs to be a healthy balance. It can be a dangerous thing to play with at times. Some artists I feel become the work of art themselves and end up playing God with the gift and this saddens me as it usually ruins them in the long run. 05) Is there anything about your geographic location that has given you a unique perspective on design and the art you create? Certainly, growing up country might have my visions at a stranger advantage, and a howling merge to that with the city life now. You might see a lot of wonderfully strange things on the streets of the city due to the amount of activity by varieties of people and culture. But, only in small town Missouri do the deer pile up outside the meat locker and blood runs next door to the Baptist church as the high school band splash-marches through it. Growing up it was easy to take my lifestyle for granted. I enjoyed it immensely, but when I was 15 to 18 I wanted to get out a bit more. I was hungry to explore, and not just the many acres we lived on. I wanted the rest of the world. I became a little disgruntled with growing up country and I think that there is a certain stereotype placed upon people anywhere they are, but country folk get it pretty bad. I definitely ate from both sides of the fence, but also didn’t want to be hung up in it for a living. As I grow older I appreciate my roots a lot more and celebrate them and am very thankful. I enjoy going back home. And some day I’d like to move outside of the city to a small plot of land with a making things shack out back. But, my family home isn’t too far down the road for a getaway weekend visit to sit with the stars, coyote yips and fish. 06) What do you consider influences on your art? (this can be other artists, music, philosophy, nature – anything. this question is not just limited to “I’m a big fan of Banksy”) First thing, I believe in the compiling of all days in life to influence an artist’s output (horse apples or clean streets). Our walks tell a lot about who we are in the present prints. I feel that one would be lying to me if what they created was not in their full vision. But, I too think that we all wear and share influences as witnesses to what we’ve seen and where we’ve been. We all help shape each other. I’ve rattled off my early influences of popular culture. I think I’m more in-tune with my child’s self now than I was then as I sit alone and make things and pull from all my days. It’s also easy to feel that I was really moving and discovering more back then with naïve, childlike faith that I’m trying to get back now. I have some good days though and mostly when I’m not thinking too much. I’m still a fan of absorbing lots of things and from many angles. Of course I have my artistic influences. One of my big influences as a child was my Grandma Gibson. She is from the old school of the country and a very hands-on person with making many things like clothing, dead animal backpacks, blankets, pillows, fridge magnets and game board pieces. I still have a lot of the things from those years. I think a lot of my approach to making things came from her. My “professional” art world as a kid had an outside knowledge from trips to museums and PBS specials, though I felt a little detached from that world and still kind of do. My heroes were at the movies because they were more immediate to me, guys like Jim Henson, Stan Winston, Dr. Indiana Jones, Rambo and Han Solo. But, it was Henson’s world that opened me up to the first idea of an artist’s legacy, vision and spirit and glimpse of another world. Something big-time ached in my decade old gut the day I found out he passed away. Musically speaking I was very much a child of my Mom’s Beatles records, “oldies” music and a ton of television theme songs, novelty sing-alongs and old church songs. I still put a lot through my ears now and my biggest influences in music in my older years are Bruce Springsteen, Jeff Buckley, Elliott Smith and Bob Dylan. Also, I am still a big fan of tons of picture books and just anything really. I just know that I’ve never had bare space on the walls and shelves of my home and head. Oh, and wherever I am I’m usually distracted by the stuff on the ground. I’m a big collector of found notes, writings, scribbles, addresses, children’s drawings and good-bad-silly-stupid-smart designs. I like to collect ‘em all. I’ve also collected stamps since I was 10. I’m a big nerd. Here’s a listing of some names in the art and design canon who have made things that either attracted, influenced or moved me in some ways (in no particular order): Saul Steinberg, Seymour Chwast and Push Pin, Lester Beall, Edward Gorey, Ray Johnson, Art Chantry, Henryk Tomaszewski, Vaughn Olver and V23, Raymond Pettibon, Paul Klee, Stanley Donwood, Stefan Sagmeister, Cy Twombly, Saul Bass, Ivan Chermayeff, Ralph Steadman, Robert Rauschenberg, Jean Michel-Basquiat…most anybody who has something to say and develops a bad back carving out their paper trail. Movies are also a giant influence on my work and I study them almost daily. Some of the filmmakers who capture a certain craft of unique spirit that I enjoy include P.T. Anderson, Wes Anderson, Michel Gondry and the Coen Brothers. Folk Art is another big mind-blow and one of my favorite areas to study and get ticked by the of-the-moment heart, purity and passion. I love the idea of somebody just up and making something for the heck of it and not for art’s or ego’s sake. That’s the childlike thing I miss the most. The makers and shakers that move me the most from the folk art movement are Henry Darger, Bill Traylor and Robert E. Smith. And sometimes I get more out of the work on display in county and state fairs by everyday arts and crafters than so-called “professional” art and design work. 07) What is your perspective on the place of poster art here in the Midwest (or KC specifically) as it interacts with the rest of the art community and how the poster art coming out of this community may be perceived on a more national level? I’m curious about this because of the recognition Kansas City artists in general have been receiving lately on a national and international scale and how the art world tends to waffle between interest and disinterest in artists in this region. The music scene here is very interesting to me and a lot of times I think that it is just like 20 people all making it happen. Though, there is a lot of talent, diversity and genre-bending for a small town like this. There are a lot of groups making a mark here and down the highways, same with the people making stuff for them. Though, I get a little strange sometimes because I sometimes feel that the small scene mixed with the internet’s social networks and fewer record stores (oh, and most of my posters take up a whole bulletin board!) makes the poster almost secondary information and so-so decoration. In the same thought though, most of the stuff I see on the internet passes by me in a two-second window like that of highway advertising. Though, some do stick out to me because I’m always on the look to get tickled. And I don’t feel the art of the printed piece will die any time soon. Anyway, the scene just works here in Kansas City somehow and everybody takes care of and appreciates each other’s roles and contributions. I’ve had some great response to what I’m slapping up, but at the same time I think that a lot of people don’t get it. What’s not to get, it’s not too special? But, that’s fine with me. I’m not sure where I am in the scene. Maybe more-so in the “seen” department with my meager budgeted work hanging above a stool in the blurry-eyed late hours. I still think that toilets are one the best places for information gathering. Poster art in general in the last ten years alone has received a great breath of fresh air. Many of the makers are respected within a small collective, and have also been breaking through to represent on a national level of design aesthetic, as well as a well-rounded view of the printed timeline to life and culture. It’s also something that anybody can do and a lot of bands still just make their own stuff, which I’m cool and whatever with it. Everybody has their own style, agenda and empty pockets. But, the personal computer has saturated the landscape with a lot of “samey”. Then again, if it works, it works. In the end if it gets people interested and enthused, then what is there for a bum like me to complain about? And sometimes I really get a kick out of unskilled design stuff(s). I try to stay out of design politics for the most part. There is more to life than design dogma. Though, there is design all around us as we interact with it in every way from the tip-top of a tree to a paper scrap for this article. I enjoy the simple act of creation and inspiration that comes from something that seems like nothing, yet has always been a “something” growing and building and will continue to grow if the viewer lets it do so. You just have to add the proper mix of ingredients, I guess. And I guess my brain isn’t one to formerly function on the full realization to what it’s thinking. So, I’m babbling right now. I do know that something I’ve always enjoyed about the concert poster is the relatively short life span it has and how that can be used to the advantage. I just want to encourage people out there, designers/artists, non designers/artists or even church secretaries, to really push things and work harder. I don’t really care if everyone isn’t versed in design and art. In general I just encourage more to experiment with poster art, find your voice(s) and find new ways to spread the good word. Even if it’s not for a concert or an event, just make something and get it out there. Throw your junk off the overpasses if need be. 08) How has your work been received within the arts community here (and also in other geographic regions if you have been branching out)? For seven years now I’ve somehow managed to remain fairly anonymous and at the same time have sparkled a bit of attention…maybe just a glittering. Life and day job dwindle my hours to where it’s hard to even pay attention on my own stuff sometimes, so I don’t get out much here in the city. Though, I guess it is easier to keep up with things on the internet, papers and here-say. I think Kansas City is making her own dent right now with a wide variety of things going on in the arts landscape. The town is kind of booming and bustling right now. Being that we’re a small town, it’s easy for a small fish to get more wet feet. Though, I’ve never put my whole foot into anything. I just do my thing. Some days I’m not really sure what that thing is, but I do it despite my muck. When I first started on my design quest, like when anyone tackles something head-on, I was head-over-heels and not sleeping much. I was also living with bands and interacting more and actually going to shows several times a week. I don’t know how I did it without exhausting my ticker, but for some reason it all worked. I started to garner a little bit of buzz here that seemed to spread quick outside the state and international borders. Many people contact me from all over and slap my stuff alongside some of my design favorites in magazines and books. It’s a hoot. People are always interested in my story and creations. It’s all still really odd and blushing to me in some light that the little things I make are reaching a selective audience on a much grander scale. Anyway, I’ve certainly learned now that sleep is important and that it’s better for me to work smarter, not harder. Though, that’s not entirely the truth as I still work pretty darn hard and I believe in it greatly. Still, I’ve struggled with my own brand of discontent since I fell from a slide and blacked-out at the age of five. It’s something that I’m working and wrangling with. But, with any kind of actual work you’ve studied, worked hard with and duct taped up the switch with 24-7, you learn to just not think and rather DO and the moves become mechanical. I just have to put to use different types of oil to keep from rusting. It all becomes a fluid thing, or something constantly coming down on me in the grocery aisle, tree leave holes and side walk crack scribbles. It can be challenging when life stuff gets in the way, but I shouldn’t see it as getting in the way. I easily get confused, but then I realize that the things I experience and see and do (good-bad) all go into my design pot mixed with my past and then I just have to do the upchucking as I move forward and I tend to feel better. Recently I’ve definitely stepped back on my massive production of concert posters and I’m sure that many people reading this will think, “Geesh, I don’t think I’ve ever even seen this idiot’s work?” Not only has my life changed in some ways, but I also had to give myself permission to take a time out and to learn to say no to some things. A break was needed before burnout and bitter rotted my worms in the apple, among other things. I had a year of little activity and practiced sitting on my nest. I still made a bunch of stuff, but a lot just for me. I’ve also been involved in various group art shows around the country, design books and special art projects with friends spread about. Another thing I did, and still do, is just to see what other avenues I’d like to take my one man show. I’m learning to use the internet for the medium that it is too. Anyway, I’ve always got some stew samples back burning, but my biggest competition is myself…on top of time, energy and money. Mostly myself, as I’ve always been extremely hard on myself. Though, I’ve been told I make it look easy. I’ve never been good at math, so you go figure. I get exhausted from trying to figure this out. 09) Is artwork your main profession and, if not, are you intending to make it so? It’s really flattering and kind of sad when every spring I get more and more inquiries from freshly plucked and talented college students about a possible internship or job with DJG Design. In general, due to what most think to be a large and varied output of work, people who don’t know what I’m about think that there is a D, a J and a G making things. It always excites me to be contacted by enthused students and other design people (any walks of life, really) who saw something or connected to my work and got a spark. It makes me rosey, but it also keeps me a little down as I don’t make enough money to do this full-time. But, it all keeps me at my little basement bay working on my bad back and poor eye sight, keeps me (under)grounded in some ways. I’ve always worked full-time jobs and have been married now for three years. So, certain responsibilities come with walking hand-in-hand with another. For now I just spin the day job blues and try to stay content and disciplined, burning the fuel before and after work. But, age is setting in a bit and I’m getting antsy. I also grow tired easier. Good things do come out of day jobs, good design work does too. For the first four or five years I was a janitor and groundskeeper. So, loads of perks came from great finds, discards, dumpster dives and lots of free food and more time to read and study and draw. Heck, I even designed a few posters between clock punches. Currently my position has me staring at a computer doing data entry. The health care, artificial air and hours are great and I can walk out my back door and be there in seven minutes. But, it can be difficult to know that I’m sitting and squandering something back home. I do take it with me everywhere upstairs, and I do a bit of networking during the day time, but there is still that itch to make things full-time and not have a full plate of non-stop. It’s all hard to balance. But, making things is the only thing that I’m told that I’m somewhat good at. Well, other than eating junk food, watching movies, being confused and petting my four kitty cats. I am fast approaching thirty and the visual of time stacking is more evident than ever. Each space between second hand clicks is another scratch of tiny pine box to me. I am slowly checking off my list of “Before 30 Goals”, but I’m usually several cars back and sometimes it’s a pileup. Life takes a different course too. But, I have caught back a hold of a torch of some sort. I am constantly tacking up side boards to the wagon. After eight years of looking at Gigposters.com, I finally have ALL of my poster work up on there. It’s a great way to generate exposure and get my work out some more. I also have my new website up and an extensive volume of imagery on my Flickr.com account. It can be a bit odd to put one’s self out there in such a reservoir fashion, but I do like the idea of the timeline and personal file cabinet. And if my house burns down, it’s all digitized and makes it easier on my friends when they have to move me. So, day jobs…they are both blah and bling in my mind. My sling shots just point back at me on certain days. Sometimes they change direction with every sentence. At least I’m now under a thousand dollars on my student loans. I don’t make a thousand dollars in most years on design. 10) Tell me a story – have you had any strange poster requests? A project where you just about lost it? A poster that succeeded beyond expectations or failed in a way that took you totally by surprise? A project-situation-chaos that always sticks out when I’m asked a question like this happened to me back in June of 2002. It’s not a poster, but it’s pretty whacky and ended up being one of the best things that I think I’ll ever make. It was a special run of 250 homemade CD packages for the band Elevator Division. I’ve had many projects that demand more production time than my little brain imagines, but this one was the worst. Actually, the finished piece is a lot tamer than my initial idea. Though, the final image’s concept married to what the band was communicating on the disc inside is way better. The following true story I’ve released for a previous interview, I just tweaked a few glitches… The idea came at the night I started printing. Well, actually it was spray paint. I had an image made for a month or more and then changed it at the last stroke of inspiration. It married the themes for the album “Whatever Makes You Happy” perfectly. With reflections of war and relationships in the songs, I made an image of a hand shooting off its index finger like a missile. It was the idea of shooting off one’s options and making decisions. It was aggressive, inviting, serious and humorous all in one. It was not only fitting for the band/music but also to the national/world agenda and climate. I went to war that night with many cans of spray paint and the idiot mind to do two-hundred and fifty all in one massive sweep, and in my basement, which is something I will never do again because I could have died. I will probably also never be involved with another package like this again (take that back, I have been). Anyway, each one was hand-cut from cardboard and handmade stencil sprayed and rubber stamped. Inserts were cut, folded and glued. At the last mist of red spray a crack of thunder shook the massive turn-of-the-century home and I bolted from the basement and out the front door to a down poor fit for Noah himself. I was like a much less cool version of Dr. Frankenstein though. I leapt off the front porch and slid head first down the embankment and into the street turned river current. But, like a taxidermy nightmare, I was born again. The drug dealing squatters across the street were on their front step perch per usual summer evening, looking at the fire in my eyes and the red paint streaming from ears, nose and mouth. It was a high much higher than that of chemical substance. Well, maybe a three pack of design, life and paint fumes. 11) What is it about the poster as an art form that you feel is unique among other art forms? What purpose does it serve in your mind that can’t be served by another type of visual art? I’ve hinted at this in a previous question. I like the idea of the poster’s life-span being short, relative to the date and time…event, whatever. But, if it connects in the right way, and it can be different for everyone as art-design-whatever, is all relative to the viewer, I think that even a concert poster’s impact can last a long time. Since my first year in Kansas City I’ve had people find me out and say that they had a bedroom wall filled up ​with​ my work. It really moved me that something so simple (and sometimes stupid) that I squeezed out caused somebody else to be moved enough to hang it above their dreams at night. It means a lot to me when others get something out of something I’ve made. I know from child to adult, I myself have gotten something out of the stuff I’ve collected and tacked to my walls. It’s odd, yet a really nice feeling to know I’m somehow contributing to a landscape in some way. Making things is an act that I’ve always needed to do and has helped me get the best out of many days. I’ve always had difficulty with contributing in many forms of communication and on some days it’s terribl​y​ hard even just to be out and about. Making things has served as my calling with communication. It’s nice to know it can help others too in whatever way. -djg

[darkarfs]

This is gonna make so many horrible people unhappy. EVERY Takeover has had at least one match-of-the-year candidate on it. Some of the most emotional moments in that brand have come from cards that even aren't quite as good. I even considered not doing this list, because, by all accounts, NXT Takeover: Tampa isn't even going ahead. But then I thought, fuck it, let's celebrate, taken all together, for my taste, the best wrestling product in the history of mankind. It's not just moves; it's emotional investment, sharply-focused, character-based storytelling, intricately-performed spectactle from the greatest physical specimens ever to lace their boots. It FINALLY legitimized Western women's wrestling in the mainstream (Michelle McCool, Trish, Molly, Mickie, Jazz, Victoria, you all were stunning performers in your own right, but you and your kind were, until NXT, only given 3 minutes: the longest women's match IN HISTORY, until 'Mania 32, was Trish Stratus vs. Mickie James at Wrestlemania 22, and it got 9 minutes.), it's got some of the greatest tag wrestling ever seen on ANY brand, it's created the longest-drawn storytelling ever, it's the best of the indies, the best of the WWE, wrapped up in a sequence of shows that were epic without being FIVE FUCKING HOURS LONG.

Where do I even start...?

Honorable mention: Takeover: R Evolution (I have to, because I've only got 10) Sami Zayn spends over a year, clawing and sweating and tearing walls down, just to get to the top of the mountain in NXT. He has the opportunity to cheat, but does it his OWN way, as beautiful, unique babyface Sami Zayn...before being no-scoped by his best friend, who debuted THAT NIGHT. The undercard isn't as strong, so I can't officially include it, but this payoff, this triumph, and this tragedy represents everything the first era of NXT was, and kickstarted it, truly, onto its first golden era. So, properly, then...

10. Takeover: Rival If you leave this list feeling like the title reigns, and thus, ERAS, of Zayn/Owens are a little under-represented by it, I completely understand. After all, so much good came from that time. American Alpha soldifying themselves as the dominant tag team, the Iron-Woman match between Sasha and Bayley, Becky Lynch putting all the pieces together, Enzo and Cass actually being GOOD...it was, still, at its heart, a developmental brand at that time. It had indie megastars, yes, but it also had the likes of Bull Dempsey. And that's not a dig at Bull Dempsey, it's just that those early Takeovers were an eclectic mix of skill levels, which is what NXT was at that time. It was a place to showcase these people. That said, some of these cards were truly *fantastic.* Case in point: Takeover: Rival. Not only was the undercard completely stacked (Hideo Itami vs. Tyler Breeze over-delivered; we had the first and still SOMEHOW ONLY Fatal 4-Way match between the Four Horsewomen; and Finn Balor vs. Neville was a solid match of the year candidate), but the main event was the first step in one of the most storied rivalries in the history of wrestling: Zayn vs. Owens. The video package is one of the best NXT ever did, and the match...was a masterpiece of simple-but unexpected booking. Zayn mistimes a leap to the outside, hits his head, and Owens responds by powerbombing him over...and over...and over again, until the ref stops the match. Zayn loses nothing, because he was never pinned, Owens is made to look even MORE the loathsome monster, and Zayn's title reign ends after just a month, without the champion nor the championship devalued in any way. It showed that NXT knew, even then, how to reward fans for their emotional investment.

9. Takeover: Portland Right now, NXT feels like it's approaching the very end of a special time in its life. Like it's on the verge of hitting critical mass. One of either Gargano or Ciampa probably leaving the company after the next Takeover, and the reign of the Undisputed Era seems to be crumbling, too. In yesteryear, this would indicate a raft of very important call-ups, neccessitating a shift in the roster and a period of calm centered around more patient character-building. NXT's existence now as a third brand throws that formula into uncertainty, but it definitely feels like they're ramping up to a finale, because goddamn, this is NXT almost at a point of self-parody. Every match is so. MUCH. Lee/Dijakovic is the pinnacle of HOT wrestling (and Lee, will you marry me?) Bianca Belair breaks out as an actual superstar...just as Charlotte decides to visit and to ruin everything, which is just dreadful timing. Gargano/Balor being everything we need it to be, and also Balor pinning Gargano with his fucking dick. And the Broserweights being VERY DUMB...but also VERY, VERY GOOD. The only thing that lets this card down...and this is obviously subjective...is that NXT has almost come TOO FAR, now, in its delivery on its main events, in that every kickout starts to beggar belief. On the level of Triple H/Undertaker at Wrestlemania 28, in that I still love it, but...hoo, it can be exhausting. Depends on how much Ring of Honor you like in your gumbo, I guess, but it feels like everyone on the roster is racing toward Tampa to explode, like a wrestling Crisis on Infinite Earths, and then MAYBE...things can calm down. Just a hair. Y'know, if Tampa even...still happens.

8. Takeover: Philadelphia If there's one man that's become synonymous with NXT, it's Johnny fucking Wrestling. You know, what would happen if a meerkat put on muscle mass and became the best set-piece wrestler this side of Daniel Bryan. We knew since he started his tag team with Tommaso Ciampa that he was an exceptional wrestler, but it wasn't until Philadelphia, and his INSANE match with Andrade "Cien" Almas, that we saw him as truly the industry's next star. It was the first Takeover match to go over 30 minutes (Sasha/Bayley at Respect went EXACTLY 30, don't @ me), it was the first NXT match to get 5 stars from Dave Meltzer (if that matters to you), and it set a new bar for Takeover main events. And while the undercard doesn't live up to it, it's still loaded with excellent matches. A.O.P. vs. the Undisputed Era is something special. Shayna Baszler makes her Takeover debut, and while she's nowhere near her prime, it cemented her immediately. Velveteen Dream and Kassius Ohno have a very fun match, and Aleister Black and Adam Cole have a ludcriously stupid no-holds-barred match, featuring two men doing with chairs what no one ought to do with chairs. But as good as all of that is, it's really a one match show, but what a match, and Ciampa ending it by being an utter bastard yet again.

7. Takeover: Brooklyn I Does the first Brooklyn Takeover feature Canadian Destroyers, 18 kick-outs and "fight forever" chants? It does not. Does it create moments of wrestling happiness that are rarely, if ever, replicated? It sure does. Firstly, Blue Pants appears and helps the Vaudevillains defeat Blake and Murphy. Seems quaint to look back on it, but it made everyone SO goddamn HAPPY that night. If you're forgetting, Leva Bates (that wrestling librarian in AEW right now) was once a comedy jobber in NXT, who wore Blue Pants. Adorable. Ignore what happened on the main roster (which is something you'll probably have to do with a lot of these shows, I imagine), but the Vaudevillains were once incredibly over (I promise!), and their win was one of several beam-inducing moments from this stellar night. Samoa Joe destroyed Baron Corbin at the height of his game, Apollo Crews debuted brilliantly (again, ignore what happens next!) and Balor and Owens' ladder match was also fantastic. Also, what's Jushin Thunder Liger doing here?? Wrestling like he's in his early 30s, that's goddamn what!! But of course, the reason we're all here is Sasha Banks vs. Bayley, and...there's still something in my eye. Anytime people want to rag on NXT for being "predictable," remind them that giving the people a moment they've genuinely prayed for...is a good thing. Bayley besting Sasha Banks at her prime just made us all...so happy. All of us. Everyone. When that curtain call took place, it was so earned. The narrative of women's wrestling dominated most of 2015, and this moment, this match, was the apex of that narrative.

6. Takeover: Chicago I And speaking of feelings...hello, Ciampa, you godless fuck. And so begins maybe the actual greatest rivalry in all of NXT. It is truly an odyessy, with twists, turns, injuries, betrayals, wounds torn open, and this is the nexus point. Well, the seeds had already sort of been planted, because Triple H knows what he's doing. Ciampa almost ALMOST turns on Gargano after their terrific match in the Cruiserweight Classic, only for the team to die another day...and what a death it was. After a great ladder match, the two stand atop the ramp, and you think "will it happen?" And the absolute bastards show you the copyright logo, just to make you think the show ends there, because it always does, seconds after that happens. You unclench, you breathe out, relax...Ciampa whispers "this is MY moment" and then...It is a perfectly engineered bait-and-switch, and exactly as vicious as it needs to be. Pats on the back, all 'round. This moment alone makes this a worthwhile Takeover, but there's also a hell of an undercard. The women's triple-threat (Ruby Riott vs. Asuka vs. Nikki Cross) is stellar, Bobby Roode and Hideo Itami have their respective best Takeover matches ever, and then there was Tyler Bate vs. Pete Dunne. An absolute show-stealer of a match, a star-making performance for both men (especially Dunne), it cemented the career of several men, and was a fully-formed GREAT show, as opposed to a good show in service to a storyline.

5. Takeover: Brooklyn IV Gargano and Ciampa's battle of brotherhood, betrayal and brainwashing was supposed to blow off at Takeover: New York, but because God hates necks, Tomato Champion was out of action, making this the final singles encounter to date, until Tampa (again, IF it even happens). This is the weakest of their 3 excellent encounters (which still makes it better than any match over SummerSlam weekend), but it also features Johnny Stupid running into a speaker, because his dumb ass can't seem to quit Ciampa. It's one of the greatest long-form feuds for a reason, mirroring Bret and Owen from 1993 into 1994, with all the repeated imagery, the callbacks, the nuances, the psychological cruelty. The street fight at Chicago II is MAYBE better, but this undercard, for me, is a lot stronger. It featured the Undisputed Era vs. Moustache Mountain, aka the Brothers Shithead vs. the Proud Circus Bear and His Beautiful Son. Velveteen Dream vs. EC3 was the closest NXT got to WWE-style storytelling and was still brilliant (remember when EC3 wrestled?), and HEY, wouldn't you know it, Kairi Sane was once a character with dimensions, as evidenced by an amazing match with Shayna Bazsler. But what makes this undercard truly stellar is Adam Cole vs. Ricochet. It is so nice to see Ricochet used well, etc., but I will still never stop pissing myself at Cole nailing him square in the jaw with a superkick WHILE HE'S MID-MOONSAULT UPSIDE-DOWN SWEET JESUS. Sometimes...sometimes...things fall exactly into place.

4. Takeover: WarGames (2018) The WarGames Takeovers are just so silly. It's a silly shoebox, filled with huge, silly men who only barely know why they're killing each other. It's as close as we ever get to WWE's now-terminal problem of "set aside whatever feuds you have right now, because it's Stipulation Month!" (see: Hell In a Cell, most Money In the Bank shows, though Elimination Chamber largely sidesteps this). The other Shoebox Takeovers are really good, no doubt, but this one stands head-and-shoulders above the rest. But there is not a bad match on this card. Kassius Ohno rides Matt Riddle's knee all the way to heaven; NXT shows why 2-out-of-3-falls is fast becoming its signature stipulation with the excellent blowoff between Sane/Baszler; Sexy Mindgames Prince had a star-making match against Tommaso Ciampa, showing why he may be the best overall character in NXT right now, and sweet lord, Aleister Black vs. Johnny Wrestling. It somehow showed that Gargano was JUST AS, if NOT MORE engaging as a dirtbag than as a good guy. And those Black Masses are presents just for me, a guy who tends to like more community theater in his wrestling than flips ("I ABSOLVE YOU...OF ALL YOUR SINS!"). And then we get to the Shoebox, and gosh it's silly! The Viking Experience, Ricochet and Pete Dunne take on the Undisputed Era, and...its a fucking LOT. 45 minutes of spots and smashing, with just a sprinkling of story, with Fish locking Dunne in his cage so he can't participate in the match. Since this seems to be what this match is designed for...let's rattle off some spots! Ricochet, jumping from one ring to the other! That amazing face-off that recreates the Captain America: Civil War poster! Perhaps the beefiest Tower of Doom in all of wrestling! And then Ricochet proving just how amazing he is...with the double moonsault off the top of the cage. What a stupid thing to do in an amazing, amazing show.

3. Takeover: Dallas I get it; a lot of people might not rank this Takeover quite so high. But it might be my actual personal favorite...? Overall...? More than any other Takeover, this show feels the most like it's filled with living, breathing superheroes. Many NXT stars are seen as just indie guys whose only gimmick is "I'm a very good wrestler," making them almost anti-WWE at the core. But NXT doesn't get enough credit for being, at its core, the best aspects of WWE. The showmanship, the things that elevate mere wrestlers to things like monsters, gods, and demons. I will always like my NXT WWE-style: the best wrestling cut with the most theater, the most camp. And Dallas is that concept, writ large. Baron Corbin coming out with lil' skulls on his shoulders. American Alpha finally becoming Super Saiyan Nerds. Asuka killing our hero, because Bayley is a person, and Asuka is a goddess who can perform brain surgery with her feet. Finn Balor coming out and going actual Texas Chainsaw Massacre on Samoa Joe. It's excellent wrestling, near-mythic visuals...and then we get to Nakamura/Zayn. The most special moment of a very special night. It is, from nearly every perspective, perfect. The hype of the crowd, salivating with anticipation. That moment when Nakamura appears in silhouette, and that violin note slides like a knife across steel, to reveal the man who set New Japan aflame. Sami Zayn getting the best possible swan song in a promotion built almost entirely on HIS back. The end of his era. That bit where they just KEEP PUNCHING ONE ANOTHER. I know it's not a perfect show (Balor/Joe stops for 3 minutes to address a cut on Joe's forehead, stalling its momentum; that Corbin/Ares match isn't as good as it could be) but that all means nothing. It's a sentimental choice, and I'd make it #1 if I could.

2. Takeover: New Orleans I went around and around in my head, and this one and #1 kept jockeying for position in my brain. But these top two Takeovers are literally note-perfect, from ship to shore, soup to nuts, top to tails. So if this is YOUR favorite? (Honestly, maybe 1 person I know who loves wrestling as much as I do will even see this mess). I'm here for you, and I understand. But this show has TWO 5-star matches from the Wrestling Observer, and I don't ever agree with that. In this case, I agree with BOTH, in the North American Championship ladder match, and the first (and so far, BEST) match in the Gargano/Ciampa feud. Everything. Is. Amazing. Shayna Bazsler became Women's Champion after BEAST-MODING her SHOULDER back INTO IT'S SOCKET to show that, YES, she gets pro-wrestling. Roderick Strong shocked the world (and the System) by joining the Undisputed Era and becoming the final Chaos Emerald needed to make that stable Super Sonic. Aleister Black took the championship from Andrade "Cien" Almas and SMILED, I fucking SAW IT! And it all depends on what you want from your wrestling, but Gargs/Tamps might actually be the best main event in Takeover history, at least from a storytelling standpoint. The crutch, the neckbrace. Each man going back to their DIY roots (the tag team - they didn't build another ring when that one broke), and then sitting side-by-side, like they did at the Cruiserweight Classic. Brothers. Completely spent. Destroyed. No one but each other. And then Ciampa shits any chance at redemption up the goddamn wall, cementing his own destruction. Every. Bit. Counts.

and #1...

Takeover: New York For a whole bunch of other wrestling fans, this has the greatest main event in Takeover history. But first, let's take a minute to appreciate how lucky we are, or were, that NXT exists. It justfies the existence of WWE, artistically, almost by itself. If this one's only slightly worse than New Orleans, it is argued, it's that the North American title ladder match was TOO good, and hurt every other match on the card. It has been argued. Not by me, but this one is somehow the most perfectly paced, perfectly sized wrestling card, on its own, ever. Every match, through alchemy or magic, manages to enthrall the crowd equally, and completely. The Viking Raiders vs. Grumpy Smaller Undertaker and the Human Pinball was off the hook incredible, and that warm "thank you" feeling has translated, currently to a man trapped in a room and a man trapped in Vince McMahon's scorn for smaller wrestlers, respectively. Matt Riddle and Velveteen Dream put on an absolute fantasy match, pitting the best of MMA vs. the best of WWE-style theatricality, and adds to the complete, demented character-world of this brand, and the fact that Dream WINS against one of the hottest new prospects is so deserved, and shows that he can, and will, shine forever brighter. Then AAAAGH WALTER vs. Pete Dunne! WALTER LAYS into poor Dunne, his chops alone having you believe that after the match, he's going to run into the arena's parking lot to FIGHT THE CARS. Then Shirai vs. Baszler vs. Sane vs. Belair and goddammit how do I even expound on that without crashing thesarus.com? And then Johnny Gargano and Adam Cole wrestled for. 40. MINUTES. With Gargano as the defacto heel because it was allegedly Cole's time. And by the match's end, he had the crowd more behind him than maybe they ever had been before. Is it a bit much? Yes. Too many kickouts? Probably. But it stands as the apex of Johnny Wrestling's journey. After everything had been taken from him: DIY, his health, his sanity, even his chance at revenge...the only thing he has left is the NXT Championship. And in that moment, he is invincible, he is more than enough.

What a show. What a host of shows.

Thanks for reading, everyone.

[peterstanslizzie]

Re-watching Lizzie Mcguire: Episode 1.22 (The Untitled Stan Jansen Project)

Miranda just broke one of the ultimate #bestfriendcodes i.e. Do Not Spill Each Other’s Secrets! Especially in front of a camera...smh

- Stan Jansen, a famous movie director is at Hillridge Junior High to film a documentary on the lives of the students there. While Lizzie and Miranda are thrilled about it, Gordo feels the opposite because he thinks that Stan will most probably put a spotlight on just the popular kids like Ethan and Kate.

- Moreover, Gordo prefers to be behind the camera instead of being the one on camera. For some reason, Gordo catches the attention of Stan and pulls him aside to introduce himself. Stan tells Gordo he loves his refreshing energy and wants to “keep an eye on him”; I still don’t understand why he’s drawn to Gordo.

The height difference between the two is insane

Gordo Throws Shade

- The next morning, Lizzie isn’t happy about what she’s wearing for school and wants to change outfits for the third time. Well, you know what they say; Third time’s the charm. 

I love Miranda’s shirt; It’s very punk rock and futuristic looking. 

- In school, Stan finds Gordo and refers to him as his “leading man”. Okay but when Animated Lizzie said that Gordo is one of these three attributes, ‘tall’, ‘dark’ and ‘handsome’, which one was she talking about? Was it ‘dark’ or ‘handsome’. Gordo is certainly not tall and doesn’t ‘dark’ mean tanned? So, it has to be handsome right? If so, that’s so cute how she thinks Gordo is handsome.

- Anyways, Stan wants Gordo to add a little drama to his performance in front of the camera. So when Kate comes into the frame and asks Gordo if he could walk her to class (which is obviously not what happens in real life), he throws her the ultimate shade and tells her to her face how he really thinks about her and it’s not good...

I kinda feel bad for Kate 

- Unexpectedly, Kate didn’t clap back at Gordo and I guess it’s because they’re on camera and she eventually leaves. Yikes! I mean, Gordo is right but he didn’t need to be that honest, especially when the cameras are rolling. 

- Well, Stan is very happy with Gordo’s performance but Lizzie and Miranda are kinda surprised by how brutally honest Gordo was to Kate. Gordo doesn’t feel any remorse because he feels like honesty is the best policy.

Gordo Crosses Over To The Dark Side

- After school, the trio are on their usual three-way phone call and Lizzie and Miranda really want for Gordo to find a way to get the both of them on camera. Gordo doesn’t think it’s a good idea but regardless, he tells them he will try to ask Stan.  

- Gordo also advises them that in order for them to get themselves noticed by Stan, they need to find their own voice and be themselves in front of the camera. Easy for him to say. 

Miranda needs to be more observant next time lol

- It seems like everyone at school is trying really hard to get their own chunk of screen-time because Hillridge Junior High basically looks like a circus now with everybody dressed up in colourful costumes and trying to showcase their talent. 

- Stan asks Gordo to go up to Larry Tudgeman and to “create conflict”, which means be mean to him. He asks Larry to describe himself, which he does in his quirky, ‘Tudgeman’ kind of way; Stan immediately gets bored and calls cut. Stan really wants Gordo to go in on Tudgeman and Gordo actually does what he says and proceeds to insult his looks and personal hygiene. 

- Lizzie and Miranda walk up to Gordo and they tell him that he was being mean to Larry. Gordo doesn’t listen to them because he’s been told by Stan that directors aren’t usually the ‘nice guys’. 

- This is when things get pretty interesting and not to mention, just plain awkward; Stan asks Gordo to introduce Lizzie and Miranda to the camera and we go down this rabbit hole, starting with Miranda saying that they keep each other’s secrets. Gordo becomes curious as to what these secrets are and Miranda, with her loose mouth accidentally reveals that Lizzie had a crush on Gordo in the 4th Grade! Shut the front door and say it ain’t so!

Miranda should have known better not to reveal that secret to Gordo, especially when in front of a camera!

- Lizzie freaks out and couldn’t believe that Miranda just blurted that out. She gets her revenge by telling everyone that Miranda used to snack on dog biscuits in the 4th grade. Basically, Lizzie and Miranda are now mad at each other and it’s all Gordo’s fault. Umm, it’s not his fault that Miranda can’t keep a secret.

Don’t Y’all Think That Stan Is A Creeper?

- Back at home, Lizzie feels really down about the whole situation and confides in her mom about what happened. Jo advises her to talk to them without the pressure of having to be filmed, which is the most obvious answer you can give. But, we do see Lizzie telling her mom that she used to like Gordo and Jo was like I KNEW IT! So, her mom ships them together I see. Good choice.

- We then see Lizzie and Miranda make up pretty quickly, which is for the better because I don’t need them to drag out their conflict any further. Meanwhile, Gordo is now targeting Ethan Craft and basically calls him good-looking but lacks any substance, which is highly offensive if you ask me. 

- Anyways, Lizzie and Miranda confront Gordo and tells him he’s being mean to people again. Gordo defends himself that him being that way is what’s gonna help him become a director in the future. Well, that’s what Stan is feeding into his brain. 

- They want Gordo to realize that the director is just using him and asking him to be someone he’s not. They also give him an ultimatum that they won’t want to be his friend anymore if he continues this mean streak of his and they head off into the girls’ room, which can I say it’s the perfect escape for them.

- At the Digital Bean, Gordo tries to talk to them again but his friends don’t want to deal with him until he stops listening to Stan. But the thing is, even when Gordo asks Stan to leave him alone, Stan doesn’t listen and continues to film him. It’s creepy how this grown adult is literally following and stalking a teenager with a camera and his crew. If I were Gordo, I would call my parents and give this guy trouble. 

Time To Make Things Right

- This is when the A-plot intersects with the B-plot. Matt and Melina are also at the Digital Bean because they also want to get the chance to appear in the documentary. 

Gordo is done with Stan, as he should be

- Gordo, who is frustrated with this whole thing gives a mini speech in front of the camera and calls Stan out by saying that he’s been encouraged by Stan to act mean to his friends. Stan is obviously not happy with Gordo at this point but Gordo doesn’t care because he wants his friends back. Luckily for him, Lizzie and Miranda saw the whole thing and they are happy to have the regular Gordo back as well. 

- Melina decides to play another prank on Matt by framing him for putting ketchup all over Stan’s video recorder. Stan sees Matt holding a ketchup bottle given to him by Melina and we then get a chase sequence between the two, which involves loads of ketchup and is that, cream and chocolate? This sequence resulted in this moment:

Attack of the Killer Tomato Sauce

- In the end, Gordo apologizes to his best friends for how he has been acting and Stan tells Gordo that he will never do business with Gordo ever again. Oh, what a shame.

B-Plot: Meet Matt’s Friend/’Girlfriend’, Melina Bianco

- Melina is first mentioned by Matt during breakfast when he informs his mom that he needs to stay back after school because he was framed by Melina for putting a rubber snake in the teacher’s desk. Matt doesn’t seem upset by this because he is somehow impressed by what she did. And of course, we suspect that he has a crush on Melina as well.

- We fast forward to later in the day (I think) and Matt is showing Melina his house and some of his fake accomplishments to which she immediately picks up on them being made up. However, her eyes set on Sam’s gnome statue, which is currently drying from a paint job and asks him about it. 

- This is basically when Melina sabotages Matt again. When Matt leaves the kitchen to set up his video game, Melina sneakily paints all over the gnome’s face, ruining Sam’s work. 

- Sam and Jo notices the butchering of the gnome statue and confronts the kids. Matt suggests to Melina that they both take the blame so that they would go easier on the both of them. Well, Matt should know by now that he cannot trust her like that and to no one’s surprise, she blames Matt and Matt admits he did it lol. 

- I thought Jo was smart enough to realise that Melina was the one who actually did it? I mean, she already knew from Matt that Melina framed him for the rubber snake incident. Or maybe she does know and she’s just doing this to teach Matt a lesson? I don’t know.

- We eventually get a montage of the both of them trying to frame the other for playing pranks on their teacher and classmates at school. And they seem to be having lots of fun; It’s such a weird relationship dynamic they have going on, no?

Overall Thoughts

- This episode was very packed, in a good way. The inclusion of Stan’s character generated a lot of drama within our main trio friend group. I hate to say it but I’m pretty sure there are real people in showbiz who are like Stan and they will do what they can to manipulate minors to get what they want. 

- He fed Gordo lies about how being mean and creating drama/conflict will make you a successful director. And it’s unfortunate that Gordo was caught up in all of that but at least he got out of it in the end. 

- We also know from watching this episode that Lizzie does indeed has or had a crush on Gordo. We got hints of it in episode 1.19, when Lizzie felt a little jealous about Gordo dating Brooke Baker. In terms of Gordo liking Lizzie back, there is no clear indication yet so far in the series but boy, we are going to get there pretty soon.

- The B-plot is actually pretty good. It’s nice to see Matt interact with a female friend (I mean girlfriend lol) from his age group just because we’ve seen Matt only have guy friends like Lanny and Oscar. Obviously, their relationship is portrayed in a silly, comedic way since they’re only kids. So, I won’t get into my deep thoughts about their strange relationship lol. 

[hotpinklizard]

Hi! Do you take prompts? Maybe darcy/steve/bucky for something like "No one would suspect.."?

Thank you for the prompt! You can read it here on AO3.ExpectationsDarcy enjoys watching her boys shatter people’s expectations of them. People seem to expect Bucky and Steve to be angry old geezers, shaking their fists as they rant about the youth of America. So when a journalist asks in an interview if they just hate things like instant oatmeal and powdered hot chocolate, saying it’s not as good as how things used to be done, Steve says, “No! It saves a lot of time and it tastes good. I think it’s great.” Darcy saves a screenshot of the reporter’s dismayed face for a rainy day.

The current trend in media is the thirst for information about heroes’ private lives. Darcy, as part of the PR team for the Avengers, puts a moratorium on questions about their dating lives and families. Some of the reporters like to push boundaries, but most know that they aren’t going to get anywhere and stick to questions that only sometimes toe the line. Recently it’s been a surge in trying to get heroes’ political affiliations. Or get them to say something scandalous.

“Would you agree that modern TV and movies are boring because there’s too much emphasis on political correctness?” a reporter asks when Steve is just out trying to buy groceries.

“I love seeing different stories. Diversity isn’t a buzzword, it’s the reality of the world,” Steve says before going back to buying his tomatoes.

The reporter looks disappointed that Steve isn’t secretly a bigot. Darcy smirks when she sees the clip online. The only media coaching she had to give him for questions like that is to not call the person who asked any foul names.

That’s one of the reasons she’s with Steve in the first place. Steve is good. He doesn’t need to be told that people matter, he just knows. She’d dated a man in college who admitted that he didn’t know why he should care about others and she’d dipped out of there as fast as she could at 3:00 a.m. in floppy slippers.

Pepper reluctantly allows a Fox News reporter to attend a press conference at the tower, out of what Darcy has a suspicion is just morbid curiosity. The smarmy man asks Bucky if he likes how free speech and their politicians are being attacked. Bucky says, “Free speech is me not getting arrested for telling you you’re a goddamn asshole. Or calling the president a goddamn asshole.”

And that’s one of the reasons she’s with Bucky, too. He is all out of fucks to give and isn’t interested in searching for more. He’d spent so much time being forced to be someone else that now, now that he’s spent a lot of time in therapy and a lot of time figuring out what he wants, he’s unabashedly himself and refuses to change for anyone. She loves that.

Startled and irritated, the reporter changes tactics and asks Bucky and Steve their opinion about the conservative economic plans.

“You do know we were raised in the Great Depression, right?” Steve says, eyebrows raised. “Believe it or not, we don’t want to deal with that again.”

Emboldened by the other reporter, a local news reporter asks about LGBTQIA+ rights. Pepper steps in to put a stop to what she probably feels is an inquisition, but they’re way ahead of her.

“We’re all passionate about equality,” Tony says smoothly, but Bucky cuts off whatever he was going to say next.

“You know that being gay isn’t a new invention, right?” Bucky says, glaring hard. “Do you really think queer people weren’t around when we were growing up?”

“Is that how you identify?” the reporter asks quickly.

Darcy knows Bucky would easily say fuck yeah he is and fuck you, but he doesn’t. Steve isn’t ready for the three of them to be public, and there are enough rumors about his relationship with Bucky as it is. She doesn’t care if people know, Bucky doesn’t care if people know, but they care that Steve cares.

“No one’s sexuality is your damn business,” he says instead.

Pepper cuts in there, changing the topic to Tony, who happily takes the limelight off them. It’s not the best, Steve and Bucky aren’t fond of interviews or cameras in their faces, but it handle it well enough. More than that, the department that handles Avengers-related fan mail and threatening letters reports an uptick in letters from queer kids who feel more accepted knowing their heroes love them, so that’s good.

People also seem to expect Steve and Bucky to only enjoy old man activities, like golf and talking about the war, as if they’re just younger version of everyone’s grandparents, or serious shit like cleaning their knives and shield all day. They’d be shocked to know that they like watching snowboarding and eating shitty take out and playing video games. Steve is a wild man at any racing game and Bucky is an absolute wild man at Mario Party.

Not a damn person would believe her if she told them the former Winter Solider knitted her a sweater when she complained she couldn’t find one in the purple that she liked. They wouldn’t believe Steve is an avid Parks and Recreation fan. Not a soul would believe that when she took them to an adult store for the first time ever, it was Steve and Bucky that mostly filled the basket with all kinds of adventurous things they want to try, Darcy just adding a couple bottles of lube and condoms.

Darcy is lounging in bed, wearing leggings and the oversized purple sweater from Bucky and flipping through news articles on her phone. Bucky’s lying next to her on his stomach, face buried in his pillow, arm slung over her waist. There’s a soft beep letting them know someone (Steve) has entered the code to their apartment, and a few moments later, Steve is faceplanting into bed next to Bucky, groaning.

“Long morning?” Darcy asks, looking up from her phone. Steve just groans again, flipping off Bucky when he laughs.

“Why do you guys get a mid-day nap and I had to be Pepper’s show pony all morning?” Steve asks.

“You love when the kids visit,” Darcy says. It’s true, Steve always makes sure to be available when the schoolkids have their tours of Stark Tower.

“Yeah, but their parents…”

Yeah, okay, that’s fair. There’s always at least one chaperone that thinks she (or he) can make Captain America fall in love with them in a single afternoon. Darcy’d had to rescue him last year when a particularly forward husband and wife had tried to entice him to come home with them. Darcy had invented a fake emergency (Code Periwinkle for fake emergencies and quick getaways from social situations) and hustled him out, trying to look very serious and not at all amused.

“It’s your turn next time,” Steve says, turning his head to look at Bucky. “The kids love you.”

“They try to hang from my metal arm like a jungle gym,” Bucky grumbles, squinting an eye open to look at Steve.

“You love that,” Darcy says, nudging her toes against his thigh. He reaches behind him, grabbing at her ankle and tugging her toward him. She shrieks out a laugh, rolling with the movement until she’s lying on his back. Steve snorts at them, rolling to his side.

“Only when it’s you, doll,” he says.

“Liar,” she says, grinning. She presses a kiss to the back of his neck before Steve pulls her by the wrist until she’s squished between them.

“Nap now, jungle gym later,” he says, throwing an arm over her waist, his fingers resting on Bucky’s back.

“This is dumb,” she says, face pressed against his chest. “Why are we all squished on one half of the bed when there’s a whole empty side?”

“Because Bucky isn’t moving,” Bucky says, eyes closed again. Steve kicks at Bucky’s legs until he gives in with a grumble, rolling over until there’s enough room for them all to lie comfortably (it’s a California king mattress, really the only option when there are two sets of shoulders like Steve and Bucky’s).

The only expectations people have of the two of them that Darcy doesn’t want rocked are related to the battlefield. Everyone assumes Captain America and the former Winter Soldier will always be victorious. They’ll watch, follow the news with wide, fearful eyes, but they always believe the two of them will come out on top.

Darcy is good with everyone having that expectation. It’s probably unhealthy, but she clings to that when they’re out on some mission and she doesn’t know if they’ll be back. She holds onto the country’s collective belief that Steve and Bucky are invincible, her breath held as she watches them battle aliens or robots or other enhanced baddies in the street.

She knows they’re strong, she knows they know what they’re doing, but she worries. It’s in her nature, she’s a worrier. She hides it well most of the time, shielding herself with bravado and sarcastic quips, but something in her heart still clenches when she sees one of them take a hit, even if they stand back up almost immediately. She knows they’re doing what they believe in, but that doesn’t make it any easier to watch. The only thing worse is not watching.

She never really considered their worry for her. They’re protective, but careful not to be overbearing so she honestly doesn’t think too much about it. But then she’s downtown, walking to get coffee when the ground shakes. She doesn’t know what’s going on, only that what looks like small robots are flying around above the city, dropping small bomb on the city.

“Shit!” she says, turning on her heel and running toward the closest alley, looking for any kind of cover. “Shit, shit, shit…”

An explosion in front of her knocks down part of a wall in the alley, and a second later there’s a pained yowl. Trapped with a pile of bricks on its back leg in a dirty black cat, eyes wide in pain and fear and damn it, she can’t just leave it.

It takes a few moments but she gets the cat’s leg out from under the bricks, scooping it up and holding it close to her chest as she runs. She’s not immediately clawed to death, which she’s grateful for, but also probably means the cat’s in shock.

There’s a small alcove farther down that used to be a loading zone for delivery trucks. She ducks behind the bricks right when one of the little robot bombs drops. She screams, can’t help it, as part of the balcony above her collapses, dropping in front of her and trapping her in the brick alcove with a mass of concrete and rubble in front of her.

“Okay, okay,” she mutters, trying to pull her phone out of her bag with one hand, the other cradling the cat that’s begun to shake in earnest. “It’s okay, kitty, we got this. Fuck, no service, we don’t got this.”

No, this is fine, this is totally fine. The explosions are already moving away, like they’re going for as much chaos as possible, not targeting anyone specific, so she doubts anything will be back to finish her off. Still, she’s trapped with an injured cat and no one has any idea where she is. If her phone doesn’t have service, they can’t track her, right? If they even realize she’s missing. It’s the middle of the work day, would anyone expect her to be here? Would they think to look?

She’s expecting a very long wait for rescue, if one comes at all. She’s sitting down with her back against the wall, the cat calmer now that Darcy’s wrapped it in her jacket. There’s no name tag, so Darcy’s decided it’s now Florence. She has no idea if it’s a boy or girl cat, but it’s Florence now, and she’s going to get Florence out of this, damn it.

It’s nearing hour two of being trapped and she’s starting to get antsy, when there’s shifting of the rubble. She scrambles to her feet, holding Florence tightly, and shrinks back into the corner, trying to avoid anything falling on her.

It’s not the building collapsing, though. The concrete blocking her in is ripped away and there’s Bucky, breathing heavily on the other side, his eyes wide and fearful.

“Oh thank fuck,” Darcy breathes.

She dashes out of the alcove and throws herself into his arms, Florence hissing indignantly between them. Bucky lifts her easily, moving her away from the rubble and a bit farther down the alley so they’re not next to a building that’s probably a stiff breeze away from collapsing.

“Bucky,” she says when he sets her back on her feet, taking her face in both his hands. He still looks panicked, eyes roving over her for any sign of injury, pausing at the bloody scrapes on her arm, the rips in the knees of her pants.

“You didn’t come back,” he says roughly.

“What?”

“You were out - coffee run - you didn’t come back. Then we saw…” He can’t seem to finish, words failing him. Then he’s kissing her roughly, like he never thought he’d be able to again. She wraps her free arm around him, kissing him back just as hard because she gets it, she really does. She does the exact same thing when they come back after a battle, dirty and exhausted and a little bloodier than she’d like.

There are loud footsteps and Bucky pulls away to look, ready to pull a gun, but it’s Steve. He’s in his Captain America uniform, covered in dirt, and he looks as frantic as Bucky.

“You found her,” he says, then he’s running toward them. Bucky carefully takes Florence from Darcy and just in time, because Steve isn’t slowing down. He grabs Darcy around the waist and yanks her to him, holding her tightly.

“I’m okay,” she says, hugging him back. “I’m fine, Steve.”

It’s true, even. Sure, she’s probably going to shake and have a mild meltdown as soon as she’s home and has a chance to change and clean up, but for right now she’s okay.

Then Steve’s kissing her, and that shocks the hell out of her more than anything else. Steve isn’t embarrassed of their relationship, not at all, but he’s very private and never kisses her or Bucky when they’re out. She kisses back, obviously, because he’s her boyfriend and she loves it, but her mind is racing.

She learns later that she was in the background of a shaky cell phone video that the news was playing while they waited for more information, and Steve and Bucky had flown into a frenzy.

“We thought we lost you,” Steve murmurs against her lips, bending down to rest his forehead against hers.

Bucky steps up behind her, crowding in and holding her as best he can with a cat in one arm. Darcy keeps one arm around Steve, her other hand coming up to rest on Bucky’s arm, letting them both know she’s here and safe. Then Steve is raising his head, kissing Bucky and yeah, that’s new, too. Not the kiss, but in public. Steve, who longs to keep his private life out of the public view, has just kissed both of them in broad daylight with lots of people around.

“Steve, there are people,” Bucky says softly. He doesn’t care one bit, proud as hell about his partners, but Steve cares.

“It doesn’t matter,” Steve says, gripping both of them tightly. “I don’t care. I needed you both here and okay.”

The sound of sirens is getting closer and Darcy expects to be handed off to a paramedic while they get back to rescue duty, but she’s surprised again when Steve easily lifts her into his arms, making her squeak at the sudden movement.

“Not still on duty?” she asks.

“No,” Steve says, kissing her cheek and starting down the alley away from the crowds of people and paramedics. “The others have it handled.”

Darcy looks over Steve’s shoulder to see Bucky following them, Florence looking happy as a clam to be in his arm. There’s a news crew behind them and Darcy turns back around, not wanting to deal with that right now.

Steve and Bucky are both clingy for the rest of the day, not letting her far out of their sight. The only time Bucky is away from her for longer than ten minutes is when he brings Florence to the emergency vet. He comes back with news that Florence is a boy, not microchipped, and is very high on pain pills, his leg in a little cast. Steve halfheartedly suggests bringing him to a shelter, but Bucky and Darcy glare and it isn’t brought up again.

The next day, when cleanup is well underway, Darcy and Bucky are sitting on the couch in the living room, Florence sprawled with his head on Darcy’s thigh, the rest of his body on Bucky’s. The press conference is about to start, but she’s taking a day off so she doesn’t have to be there, and if she doesn’t, Bucky sure isn’t going. Steve had rolled his eyes at both of them, but went anyway. Such a responsible adult.

The first few questions are standard. What attacked the city? Are there any new threats on the horizon? Who’s paying for cleanup? Are there any team injuries?

Then come the questions they’ve been waiting for. Yes, Steve tells them he’s dating the woman he was photographed kissing. Yes, also Bucky. Yes, they’re all together. No, he isn’t going to be giving any more details than that.

“I’m sure the world is shocked that Captain America has not only a girlfriend but a boyfriend as well!” a reporter says, nudging for him to spill more.

“Captain America is symbol. But I’m Steve Rogers, and I’m just a man,” Steve says. “And I love my partners.”(A/N If you come to my comments just to say “queer is a slur11!1!1!”, I’m cursing you with a thousand bee stings.)

[bolbianddolanhouse]

BNHA self insert AU

Nani the heck is this? Read here!

Chapter 12: Ni es Secreto, Soy un Pinche Chingona!

It’s a few days before Culture Week and I have everything ready for the whole week. Only thing left is to make some treats to sell at the festival, I got permission to use the school kitchen to make conchas and agua fresca for that and got them done the night before day 1. Mimi and Jin get their outfits done and we practiced a group thing to talk about culture shock, it was going to be lit and I was showing excitement.

Day 1: Family and Home culture

I was the last one to leave the dorms to avoid spoiling my surprises. I was in traditional wear of long skirt, hand embroidered shirt and serape. Along with the braids in ribbons pinned up into loops and simple makeup, I looked like a real muchacha. I roll up with the squad in their traditional robes and we didn’t care about the stares we got as we walked the halls. We sat in homeroom just to hear the announcements and we parted to our mini tour of the classes to talk about our culture. I gave my family and home presentation along with a sampling of the conchas I made to boost my sales at the end of the week. I walk to hero class when I usually have that class and run into the Big Three.

“Palma-san! You look so decorated! I always forget that you’re not Japanese.” said Nejire.

“You really do look like a woman from your culture” Amajiki said shakily “so colorful”

“Yes so effortlessly beautiful” said Miro as he grabbed my hand to kiss it. I pull my hand away before his lips met them.

“It’s impolite to kiss an un-courted woman in public in my culture” I said to integrate the theme of culture “Oh but here! have a sample of the treats I’m selling at the festival. I’m raising money to fund scholarships for international students going into hero work and I’d appreciate it if you’d tell your classmates to come and buy from me.”

They take a bite of the concha and their eyes widen “This is delicious! Palma-san you made this?!” exclaimed Amajiki.

“Yes I did! glad you liked it!” I said as I gave a polite smile “well I have to go and give another presentation, hope to see you at my stand later in the week!”

I briskly walk to the class just so I don’t run into anyone else I didn’t want to talk to. Meanwhile in the hero class...

“I wonder if Palma-san made it to school?” said Uraraka concerned “I didn’t see her leave the dorm.”

“I heard she’s here but she’s in full traditional wear” said Momo “I can’t wait to see her! from what Kendo said, she looks like a natural beauty!”

“She’s been so busy lately, maybe she was late?” said Jiro “I saw her car in the parking lot.”

“Class to your seats” said Aizawa “its a bit early but we’re having Midnight and All Might sit in today’s first half of class this week for a special presentation.”

“What kind of presentation sensei?” ask Midoriya “does it have to do with laws?”

Midnight and All Might walk in quietly and shuffled to the back of the room to take a seat as Aizawa spoke “No, not that type of presentation. It’s a peer presentation by somebody you know very little about.”

The class starts to murmur on who it could be, then I slide open the door. Everyone stops to look at me in my traditional wear, the room so silent that you can hear the click of my ankle boot heel on the tile as I walked.

“Buen dia a todos! Thats hello everyone one in Spanish!” I said putting my wicker hand basket on the front table.

“What simplistic beauty you exude Palma-san! OH! what should we call you since your the presenter?” said Aoyama.

“Hmmm, you can call me senorita Palma or Itati, both are honorifics in my culture.” 

“How is your full first name an honorific?” asked Kirishima

“My first name is from a dialect spoken by the natives in Mexico and part of South America, it means flower that grows in the water. We take great pride in our given names that we address each other by full first name basis to show respect to the name and the person.”

“Such beauty and loveliness within the name too!” said All Might “you really grew into your name.”

I blushed and diverted my gaze to my basket “oh please have mercy, it’s superstitious to make an un-courted woman flushed with such compliments! It’s said that if a man makes the single woman flustered with compliments, it will delay further the day they’ll meet their future spouse!”

Midnight teased All Might “Seems like pushed that day too far ey Yagi?”

“Anyways, any body in the mood for a sweet treat?!” I said opening my basket and using my quirk to pass out the conchas and explaining my stand and what I’m fundraising for.

“So soft and yummy! You made this?! Such a talented young lady! Your mother must be proud to have raised such a young woman! I will definitely buy from you!” are all the compliments I got for my conchas. As they were distracted, I loaded up my slide show presentation of home videos and pictures of my culture and family.

“Ok lets get started! As you know, I’m American born but my roots are from Mexico. Today I will be sharing a glimpse into my culture and family and why I am the way I am. Here’s my family, and here’s my family before coming to America. It was just my parents and that little girl right there, that’s my older sister! In my culture, you’ll often see families of 3 or more children. If you want to see it in terms of quirk types, double quirks is a very common thing. The 2 most common quirks are elemental and telekinesis, science believes it has to do with the environment in Mexico but I think it has to do with our lively hoods for survival. Here you see a bunch of men and women fishing, cooking and crafting goods with their quirks...these people are working. Just like how heroes here use their quirks to work, they do too but for more practical reasons. There’s not a huge hero culture in Mexico, we do however have a HUGE tourist culture so all of our energy and business is geared toward the tourists and visiting heroes that come and enjoy our weather and beaches. Here’s a picture of my family’s businesses, on my mom’s side, my grandpa owns a seafood shack and uses his water and low range telekinesis to fish. And one of her uncles owns a denim pants brand and designs them using his quirk that manipulates thread, kind of like Best Jeanist. On my dad’s side, grandpa was a farmer and an english teacher, he had the earth and plant growth quirk to manage a farm and his 8 children. Grandma was a nurse and used her super speed quirk to assist doctors and upkeep the household. My family now, consists of 3 children and my hard working parents. We have a very strong sense of family and dynamic to support each other. My dad would set up heavy things, older sister would help him, little brother would clean the unreachable areas and I would help my mother with the cooking and other housework. I learned how to cook for a large family with all that time I spend in the kitchen helping my mom. I can cook anything and make it delicious for a group of 15 or more with my experience. You might ask, well what about your fighting techniques? Heres a short home video of my siblings and I fighting over who’s turn it was to get on the roof to clean it... if you paid attention, my sister lands some heavy punches on me and my brother but they’re with form and I grabbed her at just the right time to suplex her right on top of my brother before they ganged up and threw me over the garage. They have the power quirks, so I have to get crafty with the fighting moves for the copy or, if my mom shows up to use the erasure, keep fighting without quirks to assure my dominance. In Mexico, these wrestle like moves are called Lucha Libre and it’s become more of a spectator sport than an actual fight technique nowadays. As you see in this picture, these luchadores are masked and in a hero-like uniform, this is all part of the performance/fight. It’s an amazing thing to watch! Heres a short clip of one of my favorite matches as a child...See that freaking finisher?! That’s called the flying golden eagle and I have yet to use it on somebody so who knows! Maybe in our next training session I’ll use it on one of yall. Even though I’m a middle child and in my culture, middle children don’t get married or finish school to take care of their aging parents until they die. I’m breaking that cycle by being here to fully finish school and go to higher education because I crave knowledge. To finish this presentation with something cool, heres a home video of me and my siblings cracking open coconuts with our quirks!”

Everyone claps at the end and I get a bunch of hands up “oh jeez uh I have time for 3 questions, lets go with Midnight.”

“Yes I have a question about Lucha Libre, who taught you how to do the techniques?”

“Oh I taught myself and I practice them on my siblings when we’d get into fights on a near daily basis. Over time I just made it my default to pick up on new moves every other day.” I get murmurs and I pick my next person “next uhhh, Mina”

“What was that meal you were cooking in the picture with your mom? Those were some big pots of food.”

“Oh that picture was when we were cooking christmas dinner! In the pot I was stirring was beans, next to it was fideos or tomato pasta, on the stove is ponche or cinnamon tea with seasonal fruit and the one next to my mom is birria de chivo or goat cooked in red chili paste.”

“YOU EAT GOAT?!” said the class in shock.

“Yes its good meat! always reminds me of christmas mmhm... ok uhhh last question, Todoroki.”

“I don’t fully believe you were the weak one in your family, what are your family’s quirks?”

“Great question! My mom has Full range Telekinesis and Erasure, my dad has metal manipulation, my sister has Rampage and Fire and my little brother has Elasticity and Flight. My mom is the most powerful that she can stop our fighting with just one look! My dad can make anything out of metal, he can do this thing were he takes a small piece of scrap metal, put it in his mouth and chew it around, spit it out and its a whole new thing like a screw or hook. My sister has two power quirks but they’re hard to control because of Rampage, if you didn’t know, thats in the emotionally triggered category and hers is triggered by anger. When you get her angry, she gains super strength and speed plus with her fire, boy you better pray you don’t get on her bad side. My little brother can stretch his body and fly with speed, excellent for air attacks. Though I can levitate, I can’t move at his speed so often if I’m not careful when in the air, he can air strike me down.”

“So what you’re saying is, you aren’t the strong one, you’re the smart one” said Todoroki making sense of it “I understand now.”

“Yup! and that concludes my day 1 presentation. Thank you so much for listening, tomorrow I’ll be doing folklore storytelling so get ready to be enchanted!”

I go to my next 2 presentations then lunch, I met up with Mimi and Jin to wind down a bit. We’re just happy that we’re not wearing pants and nobody is being racist. I go make the rest of my presentations until the end of the day. I drive back to the dorms to prepare and rest for my storytelling portion. I get praise for my commitment from the others and ask if I can make them some of that ponche when it gets colder out. I go to bed much happier than I was a week ago, my favorite parts of me were coming back.

Day 2: Folklore Storytelling

I dress up in a plain orange huipil and a white ankle length skirt with the same makeup look and ankle boots. The braids were simple with ribbon weaved into them and I brought a bunch of small hand instruments and puppets to do my storytelling. Mimi and Jin were doing food presentations and I got a bit booty tickled because theirs are so easy to talk about. I do my rounds and get really into my storytelling. When I get to the hero class, I get a bit more special with the experience.

“Hola clase 1-A! Como estan hoy?” I say in high energy.

“Hola senorita Palma!” said everyone in unison.

“Ok for this presentation, I’m going to need the desks to be pushed back quite a bit and everyone to sit on the floor please.” Everyone quickly does what I requested and gathered around as I finished setting up. “Really quick, Shoji, may I copy your quirk for this one?”

“umm yes sure” he said softly as I put my hand on his cheek. I spout 4 arms and 2 mouths for all the instruments I was going to use. In the other presentations I just used my levitation to do some of the instruments but I couldn’t play the wood flute and talk at the same time.

“Today, I will be sharing some of my favorite folklore from my culture the way a street performer would story tell. Heres the story of the Legend of the two Volcanos, a love story of Princess Iztaccihuatl and Valiant Warrior Popocatepetl.” I hear the soft gasps as I played the music and moved the puppets with my quirk and the shocked expressions when they saw that it was a sad story. “...and today you can see the two volcanos as they stand vigilant as an eternal testament of the love Popocatepetl had for his Princess.” I look at the class and see tears as some of them were moved by the story.

“That warrior is so manly to beg to the Gods to stay by his love” Kirishima spoke up, wiping his tears away.

“Oh my, well I’m glad you were moved by that story! Let me tell you a more light hearted one, how about the patron saint of Mexico Virgin Guadalupe and how Juan Diego’s faith brought hope to the people of Mexico.” As I told the story, I heard the awes and wows from the class as they see the journey Juan Diego went through to bring hope. “...and so on that very hill, you can visit the shrine with the people’s symbol of justice and hope with rose bushes planted everywhere. All thanks to one man’s faith, every year on the day of the apparition, we sing La Guadalupana to show our faith to celebrate our symbol and Juan Diego.” I start singing the shorten version of the song and the class started clapping in rhythm, really getting into it.

“Wow! what beautiful singing” said All Might “as one symbol of justice to another, that was a very touching story.”

“Thank you, thank you for your kind words and claps” I say as I check the time “hmm, it seems like I have time for one more story! What do you want to hear? A ghost story? Another love story? OH I KNOW! How about the tale of the Rabbit and the Jaguar?”

“Yes please! That one!” said the class in unison.

I start to tell the story and I take a quick peek at the audience during the chasing of the rabbit and everyone is intrigued by the puppets and story. It made me really happy that I wasn’t being ignored. “...and legend has it that you can still see the rabbit on the moon, laughing at how he tricked the Jaguar.”

“If I were the Jaguar, I’d eat the rabbit before it tricked me!” growled Bakugo “no way I’d let some cutesy animal get the last laugh.”

“Oh si? Then why do you fall for my tricks mighty Jaguar?” I said snidely as I put the puppets away “I’m the quick witted Rabbit, and you the gullible and cocky Jaguar”

The class went ballistic with that roast, Bakugo got mad that I made a factual point. I say my good byes and set off to do the rest of my presentations. After school, when I got to the dorms, I saved my voice and rested for the next day.

Day 3: Holidays

I woke up extra early to put on day of the dead skeleton makeup and a catrina outfit. I changed up the colors to greens, golds and yellow just to mix things up. I put on a crown of silk sunflowers, posies and lilies on my head to accent my braid loops. I was going to talk about day of the dead and milestone birthdays. Mimi and Jin were doing the same and they were just as decorated as me, you would’ve thought we were aristocrats of our country. As I walked class to class to give my presentations, I played the guitar and sang La Calaca. The sound of my singing echoed throughout the halls that some people peeked out of there classes to see who was singing but I guess I was singing well because nobody asked me to stop. As I made my way to the hero class, the others heard the music softly playing down the hall.

“What beautiful singing! thats definitely Seniorita Palma!” said Hagakure “I wish I understood Spanish to resonate to what she’s singing.”

“I’ve been picking up on some Spanish, I want to make some conversation with her today” said Iida so proudly.

“Are you gonna confess in Spanish?” asked Midoriya.

“nnn-No! I just want to practice is all!”

“Practice for what? to ask her father for her hand in marriage?” said Kaminari “are you going to claim your princess oh valiant warrior! Better say it quick before she turns to into-”

He was cut short as I walked in singing, everyone gasped at the change of colors and skull makeup.

“Seniorita Palma! you look like a spring goddess!” exclaimed Momo.

“Oh gracias! Your compliments on my looks make my heart flutter.” I put my guitar down and start setting up for my presentation. I start of day of the dead and set out the offerings while explaining the history and what everything means. “...for this alter, I’m paying respects to 3 very important people in my life, for my grandfather Joaquin, Frieda Kahlo and La Fiera.”

“Why those people?” asked Sato.

“Glad you asked! Joaquin is my grandpa on my dad’s side, he inspires me to be the very best at what I do and go beyond with education and hard work. Frieda Kahlo is a famous artist that became one to cope with her chronic pain and traumatic events, she inspires me to be expressive as an outlet for my emotions and that even the worst things can be expressed beautifully. La Fiera is a famous and decorated lucha libre westler, I admired his stage presence as a witty and zingy tough guy. I aspire to be as witty and crafty as he is and I pay homage to him every time I fight, I use his spin moves and flying finishers.”

I then moved on to the next few things like Quinceanra, Christmas, birthdays and religious rites of passages. “...and for being good ninos y ninas, I brought some Mexican candy for yall.” I use my quirk to pass out the candy and everyone was perplexed by it.

“Question, this is candy?!” said Iida standing up “this is covered in chili powder!”

“Mine is just chili and lime powder!” said Mineta.

“Thats the norm in mexican candy, spicy and sour covered sweet things. My favorite is the dried mango in chamoy, spicy plum sauce!”

“Its DELICIOUS!” cried out Bakugo with a sandia con chile lollipop “The spice is perfect! I’ve been missing out on this stuff!”

“I thought you might like it!” I said packing my stuff “that wraps up today’s presentation, tomorrow I’ll be performing at the open stage with my squadron and some other students! Sensei will let you know which time slot you guys will see our performance.” I said my good byes and picked up my guitar to sing to my next presentation. When lunch came, I got a text from Iida

[Hola Itati! Puedes comer conmigo hoy?]

I giggled at his attempt [Si puedo, adone?]

[estoy en la patio]

[ok a yi voy]

I walk over from the classroom I was at with my guitar playing Ay Mama Inez as I was walking to the patio. Little did I know, I was being watched from the second floor,

“You’ve been spying on her for a week already Shinso” said his friend Tetsutsu “you should go talk to her!”

“I’m trying to find the opportune time” Shinso said sighing “she seems like a girl of reason, I can’t just go up to her and say that I’ve been spying on her. She’ll get on defense and end me.”

“nah! she’s a nice girl” Tetsutsu said as he took a sip of his drink “when she trained with some of us, we swarmed her with fighting questions and answered all of them with ease and kindness that when we fought, I didn’t expect her to kick all of our asses so brutally!”

“Not surprised, she’s got the guts and beauty” he said as his eyes followed me to the patio to meet up with Iida “seems like I’m not the only one who wants her attention.”

Cut to Iida to the patio and hearing me approach. I do a quick spin as I ended the song. 

“Brava! Lovely singing Ita!” he said clapping.

“Gracias Tenya!” I said leaning my guitar against the tree we were under. “oye, estas aprendieno espainol?”

“uhhh translation? I don’t know that much spanish hehehe” he said nervously.

“You just answered what I asked hehehe, I asked if you were trying to learn spanish.”

“OH! yea I am, I wanted to try my conversational with you, if you’re alright with it.”

“sure! lets start” I said without missing a beat “Dime un secreto”

“Did you say tell me a secret?” he asked as I nodded “ummm.....ok! El jugo de naranja es my gasolina, por esto tomo mucho de eso.”

I bust out laughing “con razon! Ay Tenya es muy chistoso! Por esto es me cais bien.”

“how do I ‘fall good’ on you?”

“Oh its a spanish saying, to ‘cai bien’ means to get along or to be eased by. With us, I get along with you.”

Iida gets a bit blushed “Tu me cais bien tambien Itati, looks like I have alot to learn huh?”

“Why did you pick up on spanish anyways?” I said taking out my tupperware of fruit salad “You tryna get married?”

“WHAT?! No! wait- is that a thing?”

“Yea, if you learn the home language of someone you fancy” I said chewing on a piece of melon “it’s with the intention of asking their parents for their hand in marriage. Thats what the spaniards did to native mexicans post invasion society.”

“Well I don’t know about all that but I just wanted to learn because” he started as his gaze shifted onto me “because I thought it was interesting and I don’t hear you speak it really. I-i really like your accent when you speak in spanish, it’s sounds very warm and inviting.”

I nearly choke on my melon chunk and get flushed. We did more conversation but I had a feeling at the back of my mind that maybe he does like me. But he has a chance to ask me everyday but never takes the chance, I guess I’ll never know I say to myself as I walk to my next presentation. After school, I prepare and sleep early for all the things I had planned.

Day 4: Performance Arts

I get up early to get all my costume changes and instruments ready for my set. I get to school to do a quick sound check and set up. I do a marching band parade kick off, the members are some of my intelligence classmates of all levels and years & the rest were me using a clone quirk I copied from a 2nd year. And of course I was the drum major, big hat and mace fantasy along with custom uniforms for everyone since UA doesn’t have a marching band. I did my songs between acts with costume change.

“I can’t wait to see what senorita Palma has planned for their acts!” excitedly exclaimed Uraraka “I bet its something over the top!”

“I don’t know how she’s going to top herself after yesterday” said Tokoyami “but whatever it is, it’s going to be impressive.”

Everyone gets settled in the outdoor assembly area and Present Mic gets on stage.

“Everybody say HEY!” crowd is slient “oh boy- lets give a welcome to our opening act! Take it away UA MARCHING CADETS!”

In the distance you can hear a booming “BAND, TEN HUT! HoooOOORA!” followed by a 3 whistle blows. The marching arrangement of Can’t Hold Us starts and the crowd was looking around to see where was the music coming from.

“We don’t have a marching band” said Jiro confused “who and where is that music coming from?”

“LOOK! over there!” gasped Midoriya as the parade of 20 people came down from inside the school. Everyone was perplexed by the sound and the in sync all the marching was. The song changed to Funkytown and everyone was getting in the groove. I was doing fancy mace work to wow the crowd.

“I wonder if Palma-san in that group kero?” asked Asui “she mentioned she played the saxophone and knows how to play jazz and blues.”

“I want to know who’s the person in the front” said Kirishima wiggling to the beat “the way they’re twirling that staff is breathtakingly stylistic! I bet that’s their support item!”

As the parade made it up the stage and arranged themselves as the song ended, Mic walked up with the microphone “WOW! That projection! Give it up to our super cool drum major that made this marching display possible, the stage is yours!” he said as he held up the microphone.

“Thank you Mic sensei” I said as a took off my hat to reveal my face and curly hair “HELLO UA! For those that don’t know me, My name is Itati Palma, intelligence 1st year! I am American born with Mexican roots and while in America, I actually was part of a school marching band, I played saxophone and trained to be a drum major. Crazy how I went from a band kid to agent in training huh? I couldn’t do it without the talents of my band members here! Why don’t y’all take off your hats and show our audience?”  

They took off their hats to show that 5 of the members were me. “thats right folks your eyes don’t deceive you! I made 5 clones of myself to fill in the missing saxophone, cymbal, tuba, quad and clarinet players. Everyone else is from the intelligence program across all levels and years! Shout out to them! We have one more song and our first act will start, band are you ready?”

“CADETS!” they shouted as I conducted them to the tune Fly Me to the Moon. The song ended and we got backstage to get my next set ready. After Mimi’s polka dancing and Jin’s mini drama act was my latin jazz set. I played Vida es Un Carnival and Girl From Ipanema with my clones and 2 other members as the drummer and bassist as my ensemble. Next 2 were some folktale acts then it was my classic jazz set, same ensemble but in jazz club fantasy, we played Summer Wind and Moonlight Serenade. That was supposed to be it for my sets but one of the student acts got their costumed teared at a crucial place and couldn’t do their dance, I swooped in and said that I’ll do a solo bilingual song. Mic announced me in and I walk out in a back up dress, in case my latin costume ripped or stained.

“I dedicate this song to all the people that are in love and can’t find the right words to tell that special someone how you feel. Maybe this song will help.”

I start playing Tu Amor and all of 1-A looks at Iida, but he doesn’t notice them, the song made him feel like it was just him and Palma. At the end of the song their was an uproar of cheers and I was taken back at first but I smiled and bowed before turning it back over to Mic to end the assembly. I had to do that assembly one more time for the other half of the school then I had down time before school ended. As I was loading everything into my Jeep, Iida walked up to me.

“Ita! oh good thing I caught you before you left.”

“hehehe silly we live in the same dorm!”

“right hehe WELL I wanted to tell you that I was impressed by your performances! You never cease to amaze me with your talents.”

“thank you! I loved preforming for everyone, I feel so at home when I get up in front of everybody to entertain.”

“It shows! umm I wanted to ask you something” he said hesitantly “I was wondering if you’d like to see the fireworks with me at the festival, I wanted to tell you something important under them.”

“Oh that sounds nice but it would have to depend if I sell out before they start”

“Oh right your stand! I’ll tell everyone to buy from you so you can join me.”

“I’d love that! Thanks, but why can’t you tell me your important news before the fireworks?”

“Oh because um” he stammered “I wanted to make it memorable, it’s your first festival here. Since you can’t really look around the stands, I thought we’d enjoy the fireworks at least.”

“Thats very sweet of you, now I really hope I sell out before nightfall!”

We head to the dorms in my car and I rest up for the next day. Meanwhile the girls confront Iida.

“So so so so, did you ask her?” asked Mina as she bounced.

“Yes I asked her but she can’t unless she sells out at her stand” said Iida full of nerves still “I can’t believe I’m finally going to tell her...what if I mess it up? what if she doesn’t sell out and misses the fireworks? what if-”

“Chill out Iida-kun!” said Jiro “its hard to mess up, she’s a smart girl, she’ll understand and give you an answer. And if you’re so concerned about her missing the fireworks, just go to the stand and watch them from there.”

“Jiro-chan is right! Palma-san is going to spend time with you regardless, I’m rooting for you two.” cheerfully said Momo.

“Momo-chan, are Iida and Palma your OTP now kero?” asked Asui “I thought you wanted Mirio and Palma to happen?”

“Yea but given the current situation, Palma doesn’t have anyone on their tail nor is seeking” explained Momo as everyone uncomfortably listened “Tokoyami and Palma isn’t suitable, all the other boys are either already shipped or undesirable, that leaves Iida as her best option.”

Everyone goes to bed just to make Momo stop talking about her ships because it was starting to get cringy. Iida lays in bed acting out how he was going tell Palma how he feels.

Day 5: Culture Shock

Nothing special planned for this day, it was a talk show/interview situation on the school broadcast hosted by Mic sensei. Myself and the other international students of UA, all 10 of them across all grades and programs, talked about coming over to Japan and hero culture. I didn’t talk too much about it to avoid that traumatic event that lead me here. Everyone tuned in to hear and see us. I go about my normal school day to upkeep with the lessons I might of missed and got my baked goods and agua fresca ready to transport and sell for the next day.

Day 6: The Festival

I get up early to get ready so I can set up my stand before the grounds opened to the public. I get dressed in the back of my car with Mimi and Jin covering me as I changed into my blue campeche dress with white ribbons in my braid loops. I paired it with a simple make up look, mexican flag seprape and yellow rose hair pins to hold up my braid loops. I wore my huaraches because I know I’m going to be standing all day to sell this bread. Right away I get a bunch of customers and it was nice but after a while I didn’t get steady customers. I was selling agua fresca faster than conchas by midday because of the heat and the other stands were running out of bottled water. By 4pm, Iida came by my stand.

“Hola senorita, como se pasa aqui?”

“Hola Tenya, mas o menos aqui.”

“uh, translation, sorry hehehe”

“I said I was doing more or less here, like at this rate I’m not going to sell out in time to see the fireworks with you and it’s making me a little sad.”

“I see, well it so happens that I’m in the mood for something sweet!” he said taking out his wallet “give me 20 conchas and a large of the jamica.”

“Oh jeez ok, your total is 3,200 yen. Let me get you a bag for all that bread” I said using my quirk to serve his drink and putting the bread in the biggest paper bag I had “here you go, thank you for your donation to my cause! Come by later to see if I’m free.”

“Thank you Ita! I will!” he said walking away. I had no idea what he did with all that bread but business slightly picked up, I saw some familiar faces and had nice interactions with them. Then familiar face that I didn’t have a name to came up to my stand at sundown.

“Hi! Welcome to my stand” I said warmly as he raised his head to meet my face.

“Hmmm mexican sweet bread and drinks? Interesting” he said in an almost monotone voice but from the eye bags under his eyes, I could tell he was on day 2 of no sleep “say, aren’t you that intel student that took down the big three in that practice test?”

“Oh you tuned in for that broadcast? Yup thats me” I said trying not to brag or scream at him to hurry up and buy something.

“Cool, I’m Hitoshi Shinso, you train with my friends in 1-B” he said awkwardly like he didn’t know when to introduce himself or if he should’ve at all.

“Oh you’re Tetsutsu’s friend! He tells me about you” I said to bring this awkward conversation to an end so he can buy something and leave “did he tell you about my stand?”

“sort of, I just came by because I’ve been meaning to approach you since the broadcast but I’m a bit-” he said straining to keep his cool “just a bit of scaredy cat to come up to talk to you because of your uh talents.”

“Oh well uh thanks but I’m really nice, I don’t fight like that unless you provoke me” I said as I understood why he’s acting weird, he has a crush on me “well what can I get you?”

“hmm? oh um can I get 3 breads a medium of this cinnamon rice milk”

“Ok, your total is 600 yen” I said pouring his drink and getting the money he hands me, its a 1,000 yen bill “Out of 1,000- let me get your change of-”

“No need!” he said getting his bag small baggie of bread “keep it as donation for the cause. Also are you going to watch the fireworks? it’s going to start in an hour and a half.”

“Oh shit really?” I said looking at my phone for the time, it was almost 6pm and I was at my last 151 breads and few cups of drinks “If I sell out of product before then, I can but from the looks of it I might not be able”

He leaves and ping Mimi and Jin to help me boost sales a bit. Things did pick up a bit but when the announcement came on that the fireworks show was going to start in 5 minutes, I still had 20 conchas and 2 large cups of agua fresa left. Feeling defeated, I just stood at my stand to finish selling and maybe catch a glimpse of the show between sales. As they started, nobody came by and I thought man, I feel bad that it kinda stood up Tenya but he’s probably with the others having fun. Meanwhile, at the viewing area, Iida was pushing through the crowd looking for Palma.

“Iida-kun! it’s this way to the stands!” yelled Uraraka over the sound of the fireworks.

“Ita?! Ita?! where are you?” Iida yelled not hearing the people around him as he pushed around.

I sell my last bread and drink as the fireworks finished and I just started to clean up. I felt terrible and wallowed in my shitty-ness over this, even though deep down I know this ain’t shit to stress over and I’m just feeling the ruined fantasy. As I took down my signs, I heard somebody approach me.

“Hey”

“Oh hi Shinso” I said turning around to face him “how was the show? I couldn’t see them.”

“They were cool but I was going to say that you weren’t there” he said fixing his jacket sleeve “I would’ve enjoyed your company.”

I visibly blushed and let out a sad sigh “That makes me feel terrible, I wanted to join you and the others.”

“Well, the festival isn’t done yet” he tried to say to keep his cool “would you like to look around, with me?”

“I’m down, just let me finish here and I’ll be ready.”

After turning in my makings to the coordinator I joined Shinso for a nice time and it made me feel better. I didn’t see Iida nor got a text from them and I just thought he was having alot of fun with the others. At the end of the festival, Shinso walks me to my car and said our goodbyes. On the drive to the dorm I was like shit, now I have a crush on him! It can’t be so bad right? I get to my room and see everyone is pretty much either in the rooms asleep or not here yet. I took a well deserved bath in the dim lights and just tried to just relax but then the crackheads bust in for real bro hours in the dark, I listen in trying not to give myself away.

“Poor Iida, lost his chance” sighed Kirishima

“I don’t know how all this could’ve been avoided if he just sent her a text.” growled Bakugo

“but did you see that one chick confessing to him and he straight up was like ‘sorry, please move out of the way I am trying to find someone’ and moved them aside!” snickered Mineta 

“I saw Palma-san walking around the grounds with that general ed student Shinso” Kaminari said gassing up the situation “looks like theres new competitor in the race to win her heart.”

I sit there in the tub thinking, they keep saying he likes me but I’m not convinced completely. Well, Shinso is kinda hot and nice to me, I wouldn’t mind being his girlfriend if he asked. And Tenya, he’s clean cut and gentlemanly, he’s ideal but he’s not convincing me that he wants to be more than just friends. Whatever happens, happens! I’m not letting some boys ruin me and my education. They leave and I emerge from my bath to dry off and teleport to my room. I change and walk toward the kitchen because a bitch thirsty and kinda hungry, then I see Iida hunched over the counter.

“Um hey Tenya”

“hmmm? OH Ita” he said as he stood up straight “I didn’t know you came back before me.”

“yeah, I sold out right when the fireworks ended” I said as I walked to the fridge “sorry I kinda stood you up like that, I feel terrible.”

“No! don’t be! I know you couldn’t leave until then so its ok.”

“But what was the thing you wanted to tell me?” I asked as I poured myself water “I really want to know, it sounded important.”

“Oh um I wanted to ask if...umm” he started and got nervous “if you wanted to uhhh be my, my.... my english tutor!”

“English tutor? thats it?” I questioned almost disappointedly.

“Yes! my english tutor and in exchange I can tutor you in math” he said adding on to his lies “I thought maybe we could make a habit of studying together since you wanted to take school more seriously.”

“Oh ok sure, I’ll be your tutor” I said as I got some strawberries from the fridge “for a moment there you were going to say something else! like you liked me or something.”

I didn’t see his expression but it was silent screaming and frustration “hahaha noooo, we’re good friends and I wouldn’t bring up such a thing!”

I fully didn’t know what to say to all that as I was suspicious of everything and every one. We talked over a study schedule and said good night. I went to sleep not knowing the hell I just started and will endure for the next few years with this Iida and Shinso thing.

-End Chapter 12-

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And now a word from our sponsors... 101-150

Ep 102: Sears

And now a word from our sponsors. Today’s show has been brought to you by Sears. Sears would like you to know that they offer quality products at low prices. And also that there was a miscommunication and they thought this was a television station. They prepared a TV ad and aren’t sure what to do now. Um, I guess we’ll just describe what you would have seen, had you seen this commercial on TV. This is not the level of quality we want you to think of when you think of Sears, but here goes.

Exterior: a house. Snow drifts down onto yard already piled with snow. A warm glow on the snow, reflected light. We pan up. It is the light from the house’s windows. So cozy, so warm! Why would anyone ever want to leave and go to Sears? What kind of commercial is this? Wait, stick with us. Interior: living room. A woman looks out the window, bites her lip. “Bad weather,” she thinks. “I’m not going outside.” We don’t hear this as narration, the performer expresses this with her face, she’s a great actor. I wish you could have seen her, she doesn’t even talk in this commercial, all visual performance it’s, what a waste. So bad weather, she doesn’t want to go outside. She goes to the computer, loads up Amazon. It’s not Amazon, because we don’t want to advertise another company, but it’s like clearly Amazon, you know? We see her clicking on stuff, stuff she could be buying at Sears, but is instead buying on Amazon.

Flash forward a day. She got next day shipping, I guess. Same house exterior, it’s still snowy, the snow is high, the pavement is icy. A mail truck pulls up. A mail carrier gets out. He has her package. We see her in the window, so happy about her decision to buy from Amazon. He starts up the drive to her, he slips on the ice. Her package goes flying. It says “fragile” in the package, so that’s probably ruined. He falls badly, fractures his leg in three places! We don’t know this just by looking at it, but the filming of the stunt didn’t go like it was supposed to, so I can tell you: fractured in three places. Horror on her face. She does a great job acting this scene, I really wish you could have seen it.

We’re now in a court room. She’s being sued! The jury looks stern. She’s going to love. All of her savings will go to the mail carrier, but he isn’t happy either. He is in incredible daily pain, and what is money going to do to fix that? No one. Is. Happy. We fade out on the two of them at their separate tables in court, both facing a future that is diminished, that is diminishing. Next time, get in your car and go to Sears. This has been a message from your sponsor.

Ep 106: A grey pigeon

And now a word from our sponsors. 

Today’s show is brought to by a grey pigeon, whispering to you from your neighbor’s backyard. The pigeon – his name is Alfonso – is telling you that you are the one true God. [serene voice] And that he wants you to bring it a body part. A human body part. Doesn’t matter which part. Just do it. [ominously] Soon. [serenely] “Time’s almost gone. The Bible was wrong,” the pigeon added, suddenly from your right shoulder. “There never was a beginning.” 

This has been a word from our sponsors.

Ep 107: Ace Hardware

More soon, but first a word from our sponsors. 

Today’s show is brought to by Ace Hardware on Fifth and Shay Street. Which is a real hardware store, and not merely a camouflaged snake pit. Ace Hardware is here to fit all of your needs, and while it may look like a crude representation of a store created out of leaves and trash by hundreds of animals that had to work without the benefit of limbs. Trust us that we are a real store, that you can really enter, and will definitely leave again, alive and uneaten. Don’t worry, the near deafening hiss is the sound of [voice and music distort, static] hardware savings on everything including [ding] circular saws, reciprocating saws, [voice turns normal but the music still distorts] coping saws, and of course hand saws. All kinds of saws are 50 per cent off during this week’s “you saw it, you bought it” sale. Come by today. We also copy keys if you need that, so again, come on buy. 

This has been a word from our sponsors.

Ep 113: Equinox Gym

But before crunching those numbers, a quick message from today’s sponsor. 

Equinox Gym. At Equinox, we focus on the whole body. Particularly, the soft and vulnerable parts of that body. Stop by our windowless complex today to meet with a dietician about this month’s promotion, the Zima cleanse. Or for even faster results, nothing torches calories like our calorie torch. Also, new members this week to Equinox receive 60 days of free access to our popular Judgment Spa. 

This has been a word from our sponsor.

Ep 114: The new green co-op

And now a word from our sponsors. 

Today’s show is brought to you by the new green market co-op, which just opened up on Galloway Road between Patty’s Hardware and Discount Pastries and one of those escape-the-room places, where you wake up in a bath tub chained to a pipe, and there’s  another person across the room also chained to a pipe, and in the middle of the room is a dead body with a gun and a cassette player? Yeah, I hear those are great fun. Green market co-op owner Tristan Cortez said he opened the new store to provide a safe space for all your produce optics and food content transactions. Too often, the people who eat food don’t know where they are, or why they are, and they cry. They just sob in the middle of a store, afraid. Well, the new green market co-op store front on Galloway Road won’t let that happen, Cortez said. He said he will there every day to hold your hand, to nuzzle your neck with his nose, to whisper to you: “Don’t be afraid”, as he hands you an eggplant.

Ep 117: Money

Listeners, we have a new sponsor! Our show is brought to you by – money. When purchasing items, please consider using money. It’s exchanged universally in place of transactions with actual value. Money is available in handy ones, fives, sixes, eights, and now twenties. [very fast] Money may be habit forming, symptoms may include (avarice), lack of introspection and, frequent substitution of the phase “intelligent” for “wealthy”. Please ask your doctor if money is right for you and nod with considerable vigor when your doctor asks if you think money will complete you.

Ep 119: Love

We have a new sponsor. Our show is now sponsored by – love. Uh definitely consider love when wanting to buy things, because… love conquers all, makes the world go round, and is all you need. This has been a message from love, conqueror of our former sponsor, money. It’s what makes a Subaru a Subaru.

Ep 121: Ford

And now, a word from our sponsors.

Ford! Our cars are built strong, strong like a rock or a mountain or a bone. In fact, our cars are built out of bones, weird metal bones that were buried in a meteor. What creature did they belong to? How did it live with a skeleton of steel? Are its relatives even now streaking down from the sky, intent on revenging themselves upon the pitiful culture that desecrated their dead and turned them into affordable and reliable pickup trucks? Who knows. We certainly don’t. We barely understand how an engine works. We have one guy who knows, and he builds them all. But in order to protect his job, he won’t show anyone else how to do it. Now that’s smart thinking. Ford: drive weird bones.

Ep 122: ???

And now a word from our sponsors. 

Mute children perched atop strange formations on desert plateaus. Our eyes gaze toward a horizon that will never change. There is no movement here, no sun, but there is light. No darkness, but there is night. We do not need to eat, but we are hungry. We have no way to drink, but we are thirsty. We have nothing to sell you. Remember us. 

This has been a word from our sponsors.

Ep 127: ???

And now a word from our sponsors. 

Pay no attention to the vase in your backyard. All human beings die. This is unrelated to the vase in your backyard. You don’t remember purchasing that vase. Certainly it does not seem like your style. It wouldn’t go with any of your things, and that is not a color you buy glasswork in. You are, just in this moment, realizing you have opinions about the color of glasswork, and this is causing you to reassess in some small way your sense of self. But pay no attention to that vase in your backyard. We all get slower, get sick, and then we pass on. This is unrelated to the vase in your backyard. The vase in your backyard did not cause this. It is an inornate vase, not of any recognizable era or culture. Perhaps you should plant climbing vines or thick shrubs around the vase, so that eventually, you won’t have to see it anymore. It will be covered over with greenery, as you will some day be covered over with greenery. 

Everything will eventually be covered over with greenery, until the greenery goes too.

But pay no attention to the vase in your backyard.

All human beings die. 

This is unrelated to the vase.

This message was brought to you.

Ep 133: ???

And now a word from our sponsor. 

Today’s sponsor is… huh, okaay. Hmm, they just sent a video tape with the labels torn off of it. I guess I’ll watch it and describe what I’m seeing. [clears throat] [talking fast] It’s a black and white shot of a kitchen, a man is making a sandwich, it’s a falafel sandwich with cucumbers and tomatoes and he eats the sandwich, smiles at the camera and leaves the room. Now there’s a big red text thing, uh “there must be another way”. Now we’re back at the kitchen and the man is making a sandwich. He seems confused, as though he remembers having just done this. In his confusion, as he is cutting the tomatoes, the knife slips and oh my god- oh my god! Oh, he’s screaming but now that same text “there must be another way” and the, the man is back making the sandwich and he’s still screaming, uh but he realizes his hand is intact, and he goes to the phone uh to make a call and he slips and bangs his head on the counter and he falls out of frame and the text says again “there must be another way”. And the man is back and and, and he’s pale and shaking and he’s feeling his head, and he can’t believe it’s not broken open and he runs to the door and out into the yard and the camera follows him, and it’s not clear who is filming, and there is an earthquake and and a crevice opens up in his lawn and he disappears into it and again, “there must be another way” and he is back in the kitchen and he’s weeping. How long is this? OK, it, OK it looks like this tape is at least three hours long, so I’ll watch the rest of it later uhhhh, and kind of summarize. Maybe then we’ll figure out who is even sponsoring this thing.

Ep 136: Bed Bath and Beyond

And now a word from our sponsors.

When we talk apocalypse, we talk fires and spires of smoke and screams and wars and horrid clouds of ash and floods. And this is a comforting vision, because it supposes we’re all in it together. But death is mostly something you keep to yourself. In all reality, the apocalypse is likely going to just be you alone in a room with the flu. Bed, Bath and Beyond: you’re going to need some new sheets.

[survey--s]

268.

Have you ever eaten a Big Mac? I have but they’re not really for me. I prefer chicken burgers or bacon cheeseburgers if I’m going to have beef.

Do you currently have a job? Yeah, I run my own business.

Are you engaged right now? No, I am married though!

How old will you be next Christmas? I’ll be turning 34 a couple of weeks before Christmas. What brand is your vacuum cleaner? Shark.

How often do you shower? Daily. I feel so disgusting if I don’t have a shower,

How many surveys have you taken so far on here? This is 268, but I had an old Xanga account that had over 20,000 surveys on it - taken over the course of about a decade or so, lol.

Could you win a staring contest with someone? Nope. I’m rubbish at that kind of thing, I either blink or laugh lol.

Name the last video game you’ve played. Klondike.

Have you ever watched “The Price is Right?” I don’t think it even airs here, so no.

Who is your best friend? My husband.

Do you believe in sex before marriage? I actually think it’s really stupid to wait until after marriage to find out whether or not you’re sexually compatible.

What bothers you about the people of today? Nothing that’s unique to the people of today, I’m sure.

Have you ever smoked marijuana? No

How high can you count without losing your place? I have absolutely no idea.

Where was your favorite hangout as a kid? McDonald’s, the park, the bowling alley.

Name one memory you miss. Travelling.

What’s your favorite girl’s name? Savannah, Catelyn, Sophia.

Who are you currently living with? My husband, three cats and a dog.

Can you type fast? Yeah, I did touch typing in school, though if someone is sitting and watching me then I always seem to get it wrong. I can’t sit and think about it too much either or it’s like my brain gets confused.

What’s your favorite pizza topping? Mozzarella, pesto, sundried tomatoes.

Do you feel like you need to lose weight? Sure, but I also feel like I love food, haha.

Is summer your favorite season? I love different things about all the seasons, really. I couldn’t live somewhere where we didn’t have all four seasons, I’d find it really odd.

Which sport do you suck at the most? Anything that involves playing on a team. I always preferred individual sports like tennis or skiing.

Are you close with your cousins? No. They all live overseas and we never see each other.

Are you good at rapping? I can’t say I’ve ever tried it, lol.

How often do you go to church? Never. I’m not religious in the slightest.

Do you feel like you’re judged for your looks? I mean, sure, everyone is aren’t they?

Are you a parent? No thank you.

Do you wear glasses? Yeah, I’ve worn glasses since I was eleven.

Name someone who has changed your life for the better. My husband.

Do taking tests make you nervous? It used to, but I haven’t taken tests since I did my driving test nearly five years ago.

What do you want as a career for the future? I’m happy working with animals and running my own business for now. Who knows whether I’ll still be doing it in a decade, though.

Can you say the alphabet in more than one language? Yeah.

Who was the last person you talked to? Mike.

Do you and your friends have a secret handshake? No.

Do you eat three meals a day? Hmm, not really - generally it’s two meals plus snacks.

What do you want out of life? Happiness, contentment, not to struggle financially.

Do you ever tend to think too deeply? Definitely.

Name one world issue that upsets you. I mean, loads of things lol. Let’s go with with the war in Ukraine.

Do you ever feel like your friends are ditching you? No, but I don’t really have any friends in the first place, lol.

Where’s the last fast food place you’ve eaten at? McDonald’s.

Do you know anyone named Sue? Yeah - my first boyfriends’ mum was a Sue. I also have a client/friend called Sue though she goes by Susie now.

Do you like Wendy’s frosties? We don’t have Wendy’s here.

How long of a drive are you from California? Uh, try about an 11 hour flight, lol.

What time is it right now? It’s currently 11.15am.

What are you going to do after taking this survey? Probably a few more surveys until I have to go back out and walk Guy and Pixie again, then it’ll be time for lunch and maybe a nap, lol.

When’s the last time you’ve had a headache? I kind of have one right now, but it’s more a niggle than anything else.

Do you ever get carsick? Yeah, really badly, especially if I have to sit in the back.

Name your favorite cartoon. The Simpsons.

How long can you go without sleeping? I’ve gone 48 hours before but it was horrendous and when I did sleep, I slept for about 21 hours lol.

Do you groom your eyebrows? Yeah, after I’ve showered everyday.

How do you feel about tanning? I love the look but I worry about melanoma and skin cancer. I work outdoors so it’s a risk for me - but even with suncream on I still get brown, lol.

Do you sleep in pajamas? Yeah, normally shorts and a t-shirt.

[thedaveandkimmershow]

And so, yesterday, we ended vacation number 2, our Disney vacation, with Linzy's rideshare spiriting her away from our hotel.

We began vacation number three, our peace-out days, by returning to our room and lazing away a few hours.

Around three in the afternoon, we called in a rideshare to Blizzard Beach.

This time our driver was a former banker from Venezuela who moved here three years ago with their family. We asked if any other family members were able to move here and they told us their parents couldn't get visas.

They're definitely not in love with their former homeland's government.

And glad to be here in this country.

We arrived at Blizzard Beach just shy of 3:30 and the very first thing we did was indulge a round of miniature golf right outside the entrance to the water park. I managed to document (ish) all 18 holes in a YouTube playlist called Winter Summerland Miniature Golf with Kimmer. :-)

We finish a little after 4:30 and, by the time we slip into a pair of those lovely, lovely floating chairs at Blizzard Beach, it’s about 5.

Now I don't know when this happened, but it was still full-on sunny 'n hot when we finished our round of miniature golf. So I'm pretty sure it was still sunny when we used the dressing rooms.

After that?

No idea. The sun was also lower in the sky. For sure at some point while we were floating effortlessly on the river we both realized the outdoor temperature was probably not enough to air-dry us once we got out. For sure I knew the day had turned overcast when I looked up into the trees somewhere after we went through the mountain to spot the owl we were told was perched up in those trees.

And yeah.

It was totally up there.

A real, live owl.

Rotated its head and everything.

Okay, a coupla songs I wanna draw your attention to because they fit so perfectly with the experience of floating a lazy river. They played occasionally on outdoor speakers during each of our four visits:

"Kokomo" by The Beach Boys and

"Don't Worry" by Bob Marley.

They defined the experience.

And now for a plot twist. 

Shortly after seeing the owl, coming up on quarter to six, we hear the unmistakable rumblings of thunder.

Shortly after that, one of the lifeguards tells us they probably have us get out of the river soon.

And on the heels of that statement, a crack of lightning with almost simultaneous thunder.

At which point the guards basically say Get out of the river...

Now.

So we hustle to the nearest exit point and get out.

More lightning, as we head to the front of the park.

More thunder... but farther away.

And then. 

And then as we're coming within sight of the dressing rooms... two bolts of lightning race to the ground somewhere in front of us outside the park. Two bolts, racing each other, separated by maybe a mile. At the same time, the crackle of thunder and a vibration we can all feel beneath our feet.

It’s unnerving.

Absolutely.

Unnerving.

There are a lot of scared kids right about now, too.

By the time we get to our locker and dressing rooms, everything in the park's shut down tight. Including the place you go to get towels. You know, to dry off?

Because here's the thing: we just got out of the river. Now we've gotta throw on our clothes and hustle out of the park. And for me, I'm wearing the only shirt I brought with me. The one Kimmer got me that surfers use.

So there you go. We get dressed. We're still wet. And when we exit the park and get on the bus... the air conditioning on the bus is going full throttle.

And now we're freezing.

Free...

Zing.

The bus driver's cool, though... he shuts it off for us.

Once the bus is on the road a few minutes later, we get to talking with a mother and her son who are sitting across from us.

New York's their hometown and they’re both concerned about hurricane Henry that's predicted to make landfall along the New York coast on Monday.

The day they both fly home.

We felt anxious for them.

I really hope they make it home safe.

Now, we had a plan before this fire drill happened. We were maybe going to have dinner at the Animal Kingdom Lodge. Kimmer had a better idea, though. The Rainforest Cafe at Disney's Animal Kingdom park. Now, I only ever saw an entrance to the restaurant inside the park... but it turns out there's an entrance after the security check point, before the park entrance, off to the left.

Go figure.

Inside The Rainforest Cafe, indulging an appetizer plate and ciders, it's incredibly amusing to watch their indoor rainstorm complete with lightning and thunder outside. Amusing because it’s soooo much more catastrophic and straight up scary outside.

Speaking of outside, this is definitely not the Pacific Northwest. Because when it rains back home, it's cold and wet. Here, it's just hot and humid no matter what. So because it was hot all day... the concrete absorbed all that heat from the sun and continued to be hot both during the rain and after. Causing steam to rise off the pavement even after it stopped raining.

It's a very. Cool look.

So all around there's steam rising from the ground. And even though it's been pouring rain this last hour or so, and even though it's now full-blown nighttime... it's still quite warm out. With the occasional flash of lightning far, far away inside the clouds.

Here’s a little more of the lightning show if you wanna see more...

Finally, our ride shows up and we're on our way home.

This ride, however, turns out to be a blunt reminder that there are people so in over their heads... it breaks your heart. Or maybe they're fighting a losing battle. Or maybe…

They're simply running out of steam.

And I'm not even talking about people suffering from anything. I'm talking about the people, friends, family, who are valiantly trying to help those who are suffering. Whether that suffering's self-inflicted, the result of abuse, or the product of collateral damage.

They can't.

Keep.

This up.

For their friends or for their family.

They can't sustain the good fight. No matter how hard they try.

And yet.

They hear someone in pain tell them "I wanna stop. But I can't get it out of my head." And they still wanna help.

They see someone get arrested. And they wanna help.

They fully experience the weight of someone they love losing their life to meth, to heroin, to molly, to any number of addictions.

And they wanna help.

It's a tough conversation to be part of. At the end of it, though, Kimmer offers a pair of resources that help family and friends keep their heads above water:

Never Alone Recovery...

and Alanon.

And then we're home. And our day ends.

Okay so this morning we're up at 7-ish 'cause we've gotta check out by noon. And we don't need that process to be a fire drill.

So we ease into the day out on the balcony for the last time. We make and have the last omelet of our trip (mushrooms, rosemary ham, parisian cheese, and sun dried tomatoes) and savor it before beginning the process of packing our bags once again, cleaning out the refrigerator of all that Trader Joe's food we put in there and packing it for home, running the dishwasher, stripping the beds, and taking the last few photographs and a video of this place because it's worthy of such remembering.

By ten minutes after noon we're out the door and to the elevator where we meet a gentleman who's also checking out. When the elevator arrives, we get to talking and, when the doors open again, we exit into the hallway only to realize this is only the fourth floor. As in we've only traveled one floor down and here we are again.

Waiting for the elevator.

It takes awhile. And when it does arrive... it's packed with other travelers checking out. So we let that one go.

At some point, I'm not sure how or when, Kimmer 'n I both notice a luggage cart that's literally parked right next to/behind us. So we load all of our bags onto it and continue the wait and the conversation with our fellow traveler from Georgia who was triple checking his room before joining his family downstairs..

By ‘n by, actually just when he's about to give up and take the stairs... the elevator arrives.

We get on, now with a luggage cart in tow, the door closes, we go down, the door opens, we exit the elevator...

And now we're on the third floor.

This is definitely not going well. It also doesn't say much for our attention to, you know, detail.

Eventually our fellow traveler does take the stairs after we bid each other safe travels (he and his family have a six hour drive home ahead of them). And for the next few minutes we consider how poorly our attempt to leave this hotel is going.

When the elevator finally does arrive (again) we get in and observe very carefully that it travels the full distance to the ground floor.

And yes, a process that should've taken us thirty seconds just took us about fifteen minutes.

We are not proud of that achievement.

Neither is it going on our resumes.

By 12:30 we're checked out and we check our luggage in with the hotel to store for us whilst we enjoy that lazy river at Blizzard Beach one more time. It's actually the last of our "plus" visits including the miniature golf we played yesterday. So we're feeling good about buying the Disney Park Hopper Plus package.

At the gate, though, the biometric doesn't recognize any of my fingers... so the attendants call for Emily who scans my pass which somehow causes the biometric to recognize me, and thus...

Save the day.

Oh sure, it wasn't dramatic as all that. But it is a heckuva thing to be told I'm not who I've been this whole time while they were letting me into the park.

Anyway, they've only been using the device again since a couple days ago, Friday, so...

Yay Emily!!! 😁

Once inside the park, we're already wearing our swim suits so a few minutes later, around one, we're in the river. Not so lucky this time around with the floating chairs, we float the river on tubes instead until an elderly couple ahead of us at some point give theirs up as they exit the water. And then later I score one of those cool clear plastic ones with the green handles for Kimmer 'cause they're her favorite.

Aside from the musical tubes, it's a peaceful, super relaxing way to end our vacation floating around the edge of the park staring alternately up through the trees to the twinkling sunlight above. Not a care in the world right then. Just the two of us. 🙂♥️♥️♥️

A little over an hour later, about 2:15, Kimmer calls it 'cause we still need a little time to air-dry ourselves before heading back to the dressing rooms.

We kill that time with a grape fruit hefeweizen that the bartender not only loves herself... but she got her parents to try it and now they're big fans, too.

Three o'clock comes and goes and, five minutes later, we're in another rideshare talking Covid with the driver who's had it now twice. Who's had both injections. Whose former employer wouldn't allow employees to wear masks. Who was among a bunch of employees who got Covid early on that first time. Whose immune system's having a hard time. Who's undergoing a ton of medical tests. Whose lungs still haven't returned to full capacity. Who's frustrated and anxious, and worried about their future.

Now we're back at the hotel for a quick turnaround. All we've gotta do is grab our luggage from the hotel's storage and hail a rideshare. All of which we manage to do quickly, unlike our earlier attempted elevator ride prior to checkout.

It's a little after 330 by now and we're picked up by Manuel, a Hispanic gentleman from Queens. We only spend about 20 minutes with him... but it's a packed 20 minutes starting with our marriage and then how he married his high school sweetheart. I think they met in the early 80s (or before) so they're going on 40 years married.

Rideshare is a small part of what Manuel does, he's an accountant by trade. It's something he realized was his calling or strength when he was 18 or 19, eventually doing the books for local businesses and making sure they were right with the city regarding paperwork. It was during one of his visits to the city, filing some paperwork on-person, that he met a supervisor at city hall who was from Cuba... which opened his eyes to his own possibilities. Eventually, he went to work for the city himself.

Education is important to Manuel. Even if I didn't know that, what I would know about the man, what I would recognize in him... is a confidence born of expertise and wisdom. Someone with a command of life. Someone refined.

We spend our last minutes talking about our kids, the education we all sought out for them, and the education they received. Right up to the moment we’re pulling up to the curb in front of Southwest Airlines. 

We end our time here in the company of a true gentleman.

After that?

Well, it’s just the trip home which is pretty anticlimactic. 

We waited a bunch. Walked a bunch. Took a picture or two in front of the hotel where we stayed that one time we were treated to a Disney Cruise...

...and then walked a bunch more.

And then waited a bunch more until, eventually, we were on a plane and then we were on another plane... and that plane landed at Sea-Tac around 2AM, the next morning. Monday morning. And we got home around 3. With both of us scheduled to work first thing the same morning.

Yeah.

Not totally ideal.

The way I’d like to end this tale, though, is in the sky above Phoenix, Arizone.

You see the first leg of our journey home was Orlando to Phoenix. And, as we approached Phoenix, I noticed the dramatic shapes of the clouds in the glow of a sun that had already set.

If you haven’t noticed it before, next time you’re somewhere not home, look up into the sky. It seems the sky isn’t the same wherever we go. It takes on different personalities. Florida was like that for sure. And, it turns out, Phoenix.

It was glorious. It was brilliant. 

It was a perfect “The End”.

If you’d like to see a little more of what we saw in these final moments, click here.

And enjoy!

🙂

[loumauve]

@aimofdestiny tagged me

long ass, rambly response under the cut:

1. Are there any tropes you’d like to see more of in pro fic (aka… traditionally published books)? If so, which ones?

tbh, I haven’t really picked up any books lately. whenever I feel like reading I feel like a v specific set of characters and setup, and fanfic is perfect for that while traditionally published fiction is not.. but ??tropes?? idk. are they all tropes? who ever cares. STUFFS I love include: 

COFFEE SHOP/BOOK STORE AUs (geonncannon has some p cool published fiction with similar content; also Ferry Tale... dudes and dudettes... pls read that. I know I say that every year but I really do mean it), CROSSOVERS of any kind, when I feel sentimental SOULMATE AUs (but mostly the less traditional ones. like.. friend soulmates are v cool too),  anything SUPERNATURAL like GHOSTS!! or vampires/werewolves (teenage me was v into those and sometimes still gets to run around and play), ANYTHING KINDA TWISTED AND MESSED UP tbh (don’t ask me to explain that pls omg.. imagine dub-con, ppl fucking themselves up bc they’re messed up and need years of therapy, all of that. I’m a terrible person, lol....but then also THE HEALING PROCESS!!!), if done right - PIRATE AUs, ANYTHING POST-APOCALYPTIC, PRETEND RELATIONSHIPS (wherein all parties harbour feelings for the other(s) but think they oughta keep it to themselves), HURT-COMFORT (of course! I mean.. you get it, right??!?), REINCARNATION (esp the kind where it takes them a looooong time to get it right, and they keep DYING and messing it up and killing each other time and again... I just love it all. make it hurt, lol), TIME TRAVEL (again, IF DONE RIGHT), ANDROIDS/ROBOTS with self-awareness and feelings,  anything to do with SPACE and travel therein, FOUND FAMILIES!!!

tldr: all of them, but mostly the above.

2. What art and/or craft would you like to pick up but haven’t for whatever reason?

anything I’m into and haven’t picked up is bc I tried it once, wasn’t good at it right away and promptly decided to give up on it, lol but if we’re talking as if I could do it, and do it well - hm.. I guess I’d love to be better at building things from scratch (think furniture, houses, the like) and also engineering abilities... I admire people who can do that shit and make sth cool, even if it’s shitty robots (SIMONE, YOU PERFECT JELLY BEAN - ILY)

3. What is your favourite cold/iced beverage?

there’s this one non-alcoholic cocktail... Mosquito I think? that’s p dope. but if we’re going all basic then it’s prob a tie between vanilla coke and cocoa idk

4. What is your preferred spice level? How hot is too hot for, idk, chili or curry or hot sauce or wasabi?

look, I so pale... I like spicy foods, but my body hates them. and they make my mouth burn and my eyes water and it’s nice when I’m sick, but otherwise I think I’m prob p bland in my choices of spice. the whole stereotype of white ppl and pepper+salt being their only spices doesn’t exist without reason, lol. I wish I could tolerate them more, bc I like chili and curry and loads of pepper, but it just hurts and I’m all about keeping my body (and asthma) on safe levels.

5. Rec me a youtube channel you like. Can be anything. Go on, I know you have a fave.

FUCK!! don’t make me pick, you jerk! I’ll give you a few options, cool? cool!

Kati Morton - for mental health stuff and just having a caring person talk about stuffs Peter Draws - bc he does what he says and he’s a p cool, p weird guy but he also cares about you and wants you to do you, and I dig that. (also his voice is super calming and sometimes I watch his stuff so I can doze off when I’m having a hard time falling asleep) Cooking with Sros // Rural Life (I think that’s where I first started watching her videos) - bc it’s calming to watch her cook super neat dishes that are traditional where she lives (also - sometimes she walks around in her garden and just PICKS STUFF UP bc IT GROWS THERE and I just think that’s the coolest bc you couldn’t even get some of those ingredients here, so like... that’s an entirely different thing I’ll prob never know enough about Simone Giertz - bc she’s awesome and so FUNNY!! and cute and awkward and hella smart, and... before the whole brain tumor thing I would have said I’d love to have a peek around in her brain, but now.. if all goes well she’ll have an actual picture of it to look at, and maybe it’s not cool to be excited for her..?? but yeah, she builds stuff WITH HER OWN TWO HANDS, and she has to know SO MUCH to do it, and just... DAMN CRUSH MATERIAL right there. like, I’m so weak. but also I just want her to have everything. I want her to be able to do to space. fuck

6. Do you keep mementos of old relationships? Why/why not?

HAH! FUCK. I do. have. will? sometimes I ask myself why I keep them and don’t just burn them or whatever (throwing them away wouldn’t be nearly cathartic enough an experience for me), and maybe this is still the grieving part of me that’s looking to haunt itself? idk

all I know is that so far I’ve kept letters. I’ve kept hoodies. and.. idk what I kept out of that one relationship.... can’t remember atm, but that one hurt far too much to keep a lot of reminders around.

7. What sort of music do you put on when you do chores, like dishes or laundry?

my go-to song used to be Eye of the Tiger, but these days it’s mostly podcasts or the music of the mood/day/week (those songs you listen to on repeat for hours after you’ve (re)found them.)

8. Is there any scent you particularly love? Which one?

it used to be musk, like.. those scented burning sticks..(that’s prob not the right English name for them, lol) but I guess... the good rain smell maybe? (not the bad smells-like-snails-and-slugs-and-dead-worms rain smell). also some roses and some paeonies.. I’m picky tho. and forever fave LAVENDER

9. Do you like to cook? What’s your signature dish?

I do, actually. when my kitchen doesn’t look like shit bc my emotional state and therefore life has derailed

and eh.. it’s like a paprika bellpepper tomato soup.. with salami and feta cheese and sometimes corn, sometimes rice, sometimes minced meat. always depends on the mood and what I have lying around. not so much a signature dish as it is what I make most often, mostly for myself. 

10. What’s your fave ice cream flavour that you can’t get in most places?

it’s gained in popularity, but - after-eight. for sure. anything minty with chocolate is amazing to me.

11. What’s your current favourite outfit?

uhm.. I don’t really have favourite outfits, I just have favourite articles of clothing (THEY’RE MY FAVOURITES. THEY’RE ALL MY FAVOURITES. ALL OF THEM) and I tend to mash them together without a care in the world... well, mostly I care about temperatures and sun exposure bc I burn like a crisp in the sun, it’s not pretty.

but lately I’ve been wearing the european tour shirt from the My Favorite Murder live show bc I WAS THERE AND IT WAS THEEEEE SINGULAR BEST THING OF THE YEAR (aside from getting through my final exams). also, I love my old pair of Chucks, the blue leather kind, and the soles are falling apart and it’s all kinds of battered and worn out, but I love them. they make me happy. also there’s some striped black and white socks and some white dotted black underwear and some super comfortable black shorts. but what really is just LOVE still. and prob always. until death do us part - I have this super soft, super floofy, sways around in the wind, lets all the wind through the knitted structures of it, blue-ish, button-able long swishy swooshy ...jacket? apparently it’s called a cardigan, AND YES I HAD TO GOOGLE THAT. I DON’T KNOW THINGS!! JEEZ LOUISE