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oldsalempost-blog · 2 years ago

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The Old Salem Post

Our Local Tamassee-Salem SC Area News each Monday except holidays Contact: [email protected] Distributed to local businesses, town hall, library. Volume 7 Issue 24 Week of June 19, 2023 https://www.tumblr.com/settings/blog/oldsalempost-blog Lynne Martin Publishing

EDITOR: Many wonderful people in our community have similar goals for good things in our area. I have said before that I am not a social media person. I like my news printed. People have shared with me some negative and untrue things that are aired in public. I’m always sorry to hear of those things and never understand why some insist on running people down. My Daddy used to say “If people are talking bad about me, they are letting someone else rest.” My Dad taught me a lot in his short 54 years on earth. I cherish his lessons that live in my heart. So, the next time you hear of others tearing each other down, just think of the time they are wasting and how that same energy could be used doing something good. And if you are a social media writer, remember another lesson we should all live by: “If you can’t say something good, don’t say anything.” Maybe a face-to-face conversation makes clearer understanding than socializing to all. LRM

Town of SALEM: Next Town Council meeting June 20, 5pm at the Town Hall. Plan on our July 4th Celebration. Starts at 8pm. Fireworks & Music. Located on the Ball Field.

SALEM LIBRARY: Open Mondays 10am-6pm. Tues-Friday 9am-5pm

Jottings from Jeannie: Mrs. Hall's Birthday Tradition Good friend, Susan, shared this tidbit with me. On her birthday, Mrs. Hall, an elderly widow, always invited neighbor Susan, a busy graduate student, over for a cup of tea and fancy cupcake. "OH! Susan, it's so nice to share time just with you!" Mrs. Hall would declare.An exquisitely wrapped birthday gift and fresh flowers decorated the tea table. Susan's contribution to the yearly celebration was usually a cookbook. Don't feel sorry for Mrs. Hall. She had friends and family who took her out to eat and brought her tokens of their affection. However, THE BIRTHDAY GIFT and THE FRESH FLOWERS were gifts that Mrs. Hall presented to HERSELF. Susan remembers one celebration in particular. It was bitterly cold, but yellow roses brought sunny joy to teatime. And her present to herself? Mrs. Hall had it wrapped and waiting to be opened since last summer! It was a delicate child's tea set! " I couldn't resist this! I'll display it, and then someday I will give it to my Granddaughter!" Miz Jeannie loves ALL, All of Y'ALL!!!

JOCASSEE VALLEY BREWING COMPANY,(JVBC) & COFFEE SHOP 13412 N Hwy 11 Open Wed–Sat-Sat 8am-9pm. Sun: 12pm-7pm Events this week: Wed: Wing Wednesday ( WING WAGON at 5pm) and Blue Grass Jam 6:30pm. Thurs: OLD TIME JAM 6:30pm Food: Kiss My Asada 5pm. Fri– Food: Wing Wagon 5pm Music: DROVERS OLD TIME MEDICINE SHOW at 6:30pm. Sat–Food: IRON PIG Music: Village Creek 1at 6:30pm. Sun 12pm-7pm The Lettuce Shop Music: Freddie Vanderford and Brandon Turner at 4pm. Coffee shop features Pisgah Coffee Roasters and Dough-Dough pastries.

Why Juneteenth? President Biden signed Junteenth as a federal holiday in 2021. Actually, the 13th Amendment abolished slavery in 1865 in the United States. This was the beginning of a long battle to abolish hatred and separation that divided people with different skin colors. On June 19th, 1964 Segregation was outlawed when the United States Congress passed the Civil Rights Act after a long battle in the Senate. Held up by Southern Democrats who filibustered for 3 months, President Lyndon Johnson, a Southern Democrat himself, warned his peers with the threat of not seeing another Southern President for a century. Johnson said: “We believe all men are entitled to the blessings of liberty. Yet millions are being deprived of those blessings … because of the color of their skin. The reasons are deeply imbedded in history and tradition and the nature of man…...it cannot continue. … Our constitution … forbids it. The principles of our freedom forbid it. Morality forbids it. And [now] the law … forbids it.” * To me, Juneteenth celebrates the ones who gave their lives or who did not remain silent to bring equality to all of God’s children. LRM

ASHTON RECALLS: DAR STUDENT FROM 1942-46 RECALLS EXPERIENCES - (Thirteenth Installment of Pauline Kelley Cannon's Memoir). . .After I finished the ninth grade I worked all summer in the office to pay my tuition. . .There were large boxes of clothes and shoes that the DAR ladies sent to the school to be sold at the rummage sales, and we had to sort and itemize everything. We would also write letters to the ladies, thanking them. . .I also cut stencils and ran the mimeograph machine in the office. We never knew there was such a thing as a computer. . .Most of the girls who came back to work during the summer stayed in the South Carolina Building. Sometimes after work we would go to the attic and bring old mattresses down and put them on one side of the living room floor to do our exercises. We had a lot of fun but the next morning we would have aching muscles. Fortunately, all of the soreness would be worked out as we did our jobs. . .THE SCHOOL HAD A GLEE CLUB and I wanted to join, but prospective members had to try out before a group of judges. The first time I tried out I was not accepted, but I didn't give up. I tried out two more times, and the third time I was accepted. . .I thoroughly enjoyed Glee Club. One of our highlights would be Founders Day, when we would sing for the DAR ladies. Other students would also perform, displaying their special talents, and we would make speeches, using the skills we had learned in public speaking class.--TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK

EAGLES NEST ART CENTER , 501c3, 4 Eagle Lane, Salem DHEC kitchen available & rentals

TREASURE STORE at ENAC– Open every first and third Saturday morning 9am-12noon each month. If you have donations or want to volunteer to help please call 864-944-2490. INDOOR YARD SALE at ENAC Friday, July 14, 1pm-6pm and Saturday July 15, 8am-1pm. Please call 864-944-2490 or 864-280-1258 if you want to rent a table for $5/day. OCONEE MOUNTAIN OPRY: July 15, 2023 at 7pm-9pm we will hold our 4th Oconee Mountain Opry featuring Spaulding McIntosh, Amelia Hawke, and The Waterkickers. Tickets are $10 at the door, the day of the event. or online. TALENT SHOWCASE: August 12th. This will be a fun evening to show off your talents on stage. Please sign up by July 30th. Please call 864-944-2490 or email [email protected]. Rentals for birthday parties and class reunions. $100 for 4 hours rental minimum for the commons area. CLASS REUNION **The T-S Class of 1978 is having their 45th Class Reunion at the ENAC on July 28, 6pm-8pm. We invite any former teachers, friends, and alumni to join us at our beloved alma mater. * Rest in Peace our Friend and Classmate Larry Green: Larry Green has been a part of our lives since we started first grade in 1966. Larry and his wife Caprice I feel should would have made it to our 1978 class reunion, if his health had permitted but Larry has gone on to his eternal home on June 6. Larry would have told us something funny from years past and updated us on his most recent obituary findings. He was an enthusiast and kept impressive records of history.

CHURCH NEWS�� Salem Seventh-Day Adventist Church Vacation Bible School Sunday July 16 from 1-4pm. Theme: The Creator Is My Friend/What Do You Feel? Featuring “The Critter Keeper.” Ages 4-14 years. Children under 4 years must be accompanied by an adult. Come dressed for water play and bring a towel. Love all of God’s children. LRM

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catalinaroleplay · 4 years ago

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WHAT ARE YOU DOING NEW YEAR’S EVE...?

It’s a Thursday night. Maybe you’re in bed, curled up with a good book, or maybe you’re having drinks out with your friends. Maybe you’re even one of those folks that like to go out partying on weeknights, dancing the night away to music that’ll definitely give you static in your ears the next morning. Regardless, this Thursday night is different, because it’s New Year’s Eve.

You’re in LA, honestly. Catalina Island, as idyllic as it is, has never held a candle to LA in terms of New Year’s festivities — or maybe you’ve just got friends throwing all the parties, with endless bottles of Veuve Clicquot to boot. Everything is absolutely perfect: you’re closing out the year with your friends, your family, or a bunch of strangers that are just as excited to ring in 2021 as you are. The clock strikes midnight and you’re cheering; everybody’s cheering. You stick around for another drink, but everything dies down pretty quickly after that.

By the time you’re ready to go, you hop on the ferry; lucky, aren’t you, that they posted a special schedule for New Year’s Eve? You’re already a bit hungover and regretting that last glass of champagne, and you yawn, crossing your fingers that you won’t get sick. There’s two people swaying by the side, retching — and oh, look, there’s another to your right.

1:06AM — You’re tired, you want to get your phone charged before it dies completely. You’re probably a little under a quarter of the way back, though after that, you’ll have to Uber home too. From behind you, you can hear somebody laugh loudly, and you sigh, closing your eyes.

1:10AM — You jolt awake. Someone has screamed OH FUCK! from the bridge, and you look around. Everybody around you seems alarmed, but hey, it’s New Year’s. Everybody’s drunk, and you can’t be 100% sure it came from the driver. Surely it was some drunk kid who tripped on their way over to the bathroom, right?

You stay awake this time, though. Ten minutes away, and all around you is the ocean, but it’s calming, in a way. Everybody has returned to their quiet chatter, and you check your phone — 1:15AM.

And that’s when the ferry sputters to a stop.

Not a moment is lost; the door to the bridge flies open, and the driver (you recognize him, it’s the Mayor’s no-good son) stumbles out, howling, crying, the front of his shirt covered in hot sauce. In his one hand is a burrito, in the other are remnants of pieces of something in his hand. His eyes are bloodshot, and all he says is I’M SORRY, I’M SORRY as he falls to the ground, crying in his little pool of sauce by his feet.

You bolt up. You and few others take initiative and pop into the control room. You’re shocked at what you find, unsure of whether to cry or laugh. Everything is covered in hot sauce, and in the corner is a family-sized bottle, all empty. The label says THE DEVIL’S GHOST PEPPER, and when you pick it up to smell it, your nose stings with something wicked.

Immediately, you crouch down next to him, trying to get the story out. It comes in pieces, but he explains: he’d been eating a burrito, he’d wanted some hot sauce. As he opened the new bottle up, some got in his eye, and he screamed. (So that was what the cursing was about!) In pain, he’d shaken the bottle out and covered the entire bridge in hot sauce, and that’d been when the ferry stopped. The cherry right on top of his bad day, he’d forgotten to check the tank on the ferry. They were out of diesel.

Sighing, you check your phone. NO SIGNAL, it rings out. Turns out the black pieces in his hand were remnants of the radio he’d broken apart while trying to fix it, and you feel defeated. What could you do? You ask the driver whether anybody would notice, if anybody would come their way, and he shakes his head, morose. I offered to close up. I - I wanted to prove to my dad that I could do something —

You ignore him. You have no patience for the apologies of a man covered in sweat, rice, and hot sauce, when you spot a red box in the corner. The flare! Of course! Somebody was bound to see the light and you rush over, opening up the box. From behind you, you hear the sobbing stop. Is that the flare?

You nod, walking back out to shoot it into the air when somebody grabs you arm. I can do it! Let me do it! I need to — it’s the goddamn ferry driver, and he’s wrestling you for the flare, and you’d rather be thrown off the boat than let this idiot do anything else — and in the scuffle, the flare flies out of both of your hands, straight into the water.

And that is the moment you know that you are all trapped.

IN-CHARACTER INFORMATION.

SURPRISE — it’s plot drop time! IC information is as follows:

Your muses are trapped on the ferry on January 1st, 2021, from 1AM – 3:30AM.

Cell service is spotty. Every so often, you may get a call or a text, but it is difficult to hold a conversation.

At 3AM, somebody finally gets ahold of the Mayor, who sends out another ferry to rescue everybody, shuttling everyone back to the island by 4AM.

Please let us know by TUESDAY, JANUARY 5TH @ 5PM PST / 8PM EST / 12AM UTC if your muse(s) were on the ferry at this time.

If your muse(s) were not on the ferry, you are still allowed to interact with muses that are on the ferry through choppy texts or phone conversations. It is unclear what happened, as there is no communication going from the ferry back to the island. Your muses on the island are free to speculate what is happening and gather around the Catalina Marina for news. However, nobody is at the Marina, as the driver offered to close up.

Feel free to go as lighthearted or as dark as you wish with the drop!

OUT-OF-CHARACTER INFORMATION.

Beginning Date: Wednesday, January 6th ─ 8AM PST / 11AM EST / 3PM UTC.

Ending Date: Wednesday, January 13th ─ 5PM PST / 8PM EST / 12AM UTC. No new threads related to the event can be created after this date.

Event Threads: Friday, January 15th ─ 5PM PST / 8PM EST / 12AM UTC. Have all event threads, whether you finish a thread, headcanon its ending, or shift it into a non-event related thread, completed by this date and time.

Previous Threads: We kindly ask all non-event related threads to be wrapped up or put on hold for the event, just so everyone can focus on their event interactions. If you have previous threads that you’d like to continue after the event, please draft them before the start of the event so you don’t lose them!

Acceptances: No acceptances will be held during this event. We’ll be bypassing January 8th (Friday) and January 11th (Monday).

Starters: All starters must be tagged #catalina: starter and #catalina: lost at sea and make sure to tag the starter blog ( @catalinastarter ). As always, group rules still apply during the event. Once there are four starters in the tag, you must respond to THREE STARTERS before posting your own.

Tags: Any edit, such as your character’s outfit for New Year’s can be tagged #catalina: lost at sea and #catalina: media! All edits will be reblogged on @catalinamedia.

Self-paras: Feel free to write self-paras pertaining to the event!

Lastly but most importantly: HAVE FUN! This is a chance to interact with characters and players you haven’t yet, so please use this opportunity to be inclusive. If you’ve read all of this, please REPLY with your favorite emoji so I know you’ve seen it!

#catalina: event #catalina: lost at sea

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bolbianddolanhouse · 6 years ago

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BNHA self insert AU

Nani the heck is this? Read here!

Chapter 27: Honey, You Got a Big Storm Comin’!

It’s days before summer vacation but the intel students aren’t stressin’ as much as the hero class. I get summoned to help out.

-Wednesday night in the hero dorms-

“...and that’s how it should be written out” I said as I finished writing on the portable white board “remember! Use symbols for the graph so it’s easier to explain in the written part.”

“That’s so much easier!” cried out Sato “my brain feels like funnel cake trying to figure out the two.”

All of the hero class was huddled in the commons room to take note on all the tips and simplified explanations. “Any other questions?” I check the time “it’s literally past your bedtimes.”

“I believe that was everything on the review sheet” Tokoyami uttered as he scanned through his marked up work sheet.

“Alrighty then” I pack up my note books and markers “don’t hesitate to ask me anything about the material before your exam” the class gives a collective thumbs up “see y’all tomorrow at school.” I say before teleporting out.

“Man I wish she still lived with us” sighed Kirishima “then we could just knock on her door for help instead of accommodating her like this.”

“But it’s nearly summertime!” yawned Uraraka “we’re going to see a whole lot of her, I can feel it.”

-Friday, after school in the halls-

“Oof I don’t even know if I did well enough” Mina cried out as everyone walked down the hall “I wonder how Palma-san does it.”

“Seriously!” tiredly sighed Hagakure “she doesn’t even break a sweat over the material but her explanations did help.”

“Speaking of which” Asui spoke up “I wonder how she did on her exams, kero.”

“All she had to study for was her vehicle exam” Kaminari butted in “lucky for her, she gets all the fun.”

They get to the front of the school “Hey, isn’t that her?” Aoyama points to her as she fiddles with her bag speaker.

“Oh it is!” Kirishima waved to get her attention “HEY PALMA-SAN! YO!”

“Hmm? Oh hi yall!” she hollered back “how was the exam?”

“Tough! How do you do it?” Midoriya eagerly asked.

“Heh, yall clearly never fought for fun, played strategy games nor got into a sport” she slung on her backpack “back in America, all I did was strategy to win my daily fist fights from my siblings and played video games on hard mode” she let out a giggle “all just to make life less boring.”

“What are your plans for summer break Palma-san?” asked Sero, trying to change the subject.

“I guess just to stay cool and do some more training” she sighed “I have another practice exam and I need to hone my ability and get mentally and physically stronger.”

“When’s the exam?” asked Sato in awe.

“In December BUT that doesn’t mean I can slack my training” she puts up her fists “I gotta go sicko mode until I complete my exam.” She checks the time “oof gotta zoot! It’s my turn to cook dinner and I need a few things” she starts to roller skate away “bye yall!”

-Saturday late morning, hero dorms-

“Is there anything else I can assist you with Shinso” Iida chopped sternly at Shinso as he was led back to his new dorm.

“You covered everything” Shinso replied “I’ll just settle in for now.”

“Don’t hesitate to ask us for help, I’m 4 doors down if you need me.” Iida said as he walked to his dorm.

Shinso groaned as he closed the door of his dorm “what a drag that was! Palma-san was right, it is a pain in the ass to live with these kids.” He spoke to himself as he put his clothes away.

There was a knock on his door “Who is it?”

“Special delivery~”

“From who?”

“Your next dorm neighbor!”

“I’m not opening the door!”

“That’s ok! I’ll just warp in!” in a blink of an eye, Palma teleports in her track shorts and graphic tee “Hi Shinso! Welcome to the neighborhood!”

“Oh it’s you!” Shinso chuckled “For a moment I thought I was getting pranked!”

“Trust me, nobody is going to prank you” she rolled her eyes “they’ll just knock on your door and pester you on dumb shit” she holds out a small cake box “here, I made you some treats as a welcome gift!”

“Thanks” he takes the box “hey do you know the forbidden rules of the dorms?”

“Of course I do” she stops herself from saying them, why does he want to know? “I’m guessing Iida mentioned something about them?”

“Something like that” he sets the box on the desk “I want to enjoy my time living here and I just want to know how far I can push the rules.”

“If you put it like that, sit down, it’s a lot to remember” she took a deep breath “lights out is at 8pm but that just means to turn-off the main lights in your rooms and not make noise. If you’re out here having sex in your dorm, I suggest putting the mattress on the floor for a non-incriminating session, side note from that, only UA students are allowed in the dorms and they have to leave before 10am the next day. You’re not allowed to go between dorm buildings unless accompanied by an intel student or it’s a training exercise. You can smoke BUT you have to do it on the roof and clean up after. Pets allowed but they must be under 80 pounds. And finally, anything that goes down in that far quarter of the shared field is fair game, the cameras don’t reach that far.”

“Interesting, I don’t think I’ll be sneaking in kitties since there’s already one here” smirked Shinso.

“OH! you met Catptain!” she gushed “isn’t he such a sweetie?!”

“Yea, Iida couldn’t shut up on how you convinced everyone to get one” he stopped and looked into her eyes “you two dating?”

“Nope”

“Do you like him?”

“As a friend, he’s made it clear that he sees me as a sibling.”

“Ouch” he gets close to her face “his loss, why would anybody leave you alone, pretty kitty” he rubbed her chin “you want to play, kitty?”

“Careful Shinso” she warned as she grabbed his hand to stop rubbing her chin “this kitty has claws and a naughty side” she mocked his tone “don’t play with me unless it’s for keeps.” she let out a giggle “but seriously, you can’t hang at the level I’m at” she turns to leave “maybe some other time.”

As he watched her walk out to the hallway, so did the other boys. “Shinso-kun no fair!” wailed Mineta “you’ve been visited by-” Kaminari put his hand on Mineta’s mouth.

“Shhh! you want Iida to hear?” Kaminari shushed “don’t forget what we’re trying to do!”

Aoyama turns to Shinso to clarify “we can’t utter her name within earshot of Iida-kun” his face gets gloomy “he dashes out every time, trying to find his princess” he strikes a dramatic pose “oh the forbidden love they carry in their hearts!~”

Tokoyami sighs “You forgot the important part Yuga” he turns to Shinso “all of us are trying to get him to confess to her” he stressfully rubs his furrowed brow “but every time he doubts himself even though he has very strong feelings toward her.”

“That’s not what Pal- I MEAN she told me” Shinso corrected himself “she told me that he sees her as a sibling.”

“A SIBLING?!” they all yelled.

“Yeah, but it was nice of her to bring me a welcome gift” Shinso bluntly said as he pointed to the box on the desk.

“Open the box Shinso-kun” Mineta demanded “if I’m correct, she might be eyeing you as her next object of affection.”

Shinso opens the box and his eyes widen “it’s cat paw cookies” he ate one and he lost his cool “damn, these are delicious! like, I can taste the love and effort she put into these.”

“So she is eyeing you” Sero narrows his eyes “Iida-kun really can’t talk to her.”

-Fast forward, Tuesday in the hero dorms-

“Hey Midoriya-kun” Shinso called out as he looked out to the shared field “what is she doing? It’s been a few days since I’ve noticed and I don’t know.”

“Hmm? Oh you’re talking about Palma-san and her squadron” Midoriya looked at what he’s looking at “they’re doing endurance and stamina training. Palma-san tells me that she never learned where she lands on the stamina scale.”

“Why is that a thing for her?” Shinso asked more confused than before.

“Well I did some research after what I learned about her quirks” he pulls out his notebook to the section on her “she has two quirks that drains body and mind, so her body is built to withstand extremes. So she has stamina that can last her through anything, lest she over-exerts herself with a copied quirk.” he closes his notebook and sighs “none of us could tire her out in battle, Shoto almost did but she lasted just enough before passing out.” he starts to mutter “it’s also worth noting that she can stay up 5 days with no sleep and can recover super fast. There’s basically nothing that can keep her down.”

Shinso processes this new info as he watches her bare-knuckle fight the skinny one “what else do you know about her?”

“She has a drivers license, doesn’t use her quirks in fights unless it’s necessary” he tries to think of more “well... she’s full of talents and surprises! Her program calls her Wild Card for her surprise elements.”

“With that type of power, why isn’t she a hero?”

“Beats me!” Midoriya sighs “Iida-kun, the teachers, and her squadron knows. Ask her if you’re that curious about it, that’s how I was able to write her section.”

Shinso spends the next few days just observing her training and other behaviors, not really paying attention to his new living situation.

“Oi Shinso!” Sero snaps Shinso out of his staring “do you play League of Legends by any chance?”

“No, why would I play something so geeky?” he responded with scorn.

“Aw, we wanted to build a bigger team to take down the intel team” Sero explained “it’s game night and Palma-sama and her team are coming over to play some LoL with us.” he points to Mineta, Kaminari, Sato and Tokoyami setting up the console and TV.

“Palma-san plays fantasy games with you?” Shinso arched his brow in confusion.

“Yep! We play all the time” Sato replied as he connected his controller “but she always beats us, she’s that good.”

At that moment, the intel team portaled in “We’re here!” Palma exclaimed “yall ready to get ya ass whooped!?”

“I brought fried rice!” Jin cried out as he lifts his dish in the air.

Shinso was awestruck on how not only she was winning round after round but also that she has so much personality. The question still burned in the back of his mind ‘why are you like this?’

-Fast Forward: Thursday, 4 days until school starts, at the pool deck-

“Aw heck the hero class is here too” Mimi whined as they walked up to the gate.

“Midnight did tell us that we’d have to share” Ita spoke up “ni modo! we need to do our endurance training.”

“I’m just nervous because we don’t have school issued swim suits” Jin looks at his swim trunks “I look like a weeb with these Naruto trunks.”

“Hi yall! Don’t mind us!” Ita yelled to as a distraction tactic to make Jin feel better.

“Ita! What brings you to the pool?” Iida pants as he pokes his head out from the water.

“The squad and I have some endurance training” she made a fist “plus I copied a water quirk, so that’ll be fun to train with!”

The 3 did some warm-ups before diving in. Everyone stopped to watch them unzip out of their track clothes to unveil their swimsuits. Ita was wearing a purple one piece, Mimi a green one piece and Jin in his Naruto swim trunks. They watched as Mimi and Jin jumped in first and Ita walking on the water.

“WOW! How are you doing that?!” cried out a bunch of the hero students.

“Oh, I just push the flow of the water up on the soles of my feet” she responded. After a few rounds of vigorous endurance exercises, the others notice that we didn’t do any swimming.

“Hold the phone!” Mineta hollered to stop our session “how come you don’t swim swim? Isn’t the whole point of using the pool deck is to swim!”

We looked at each other and laughed “Silly ball brain!” chortled Mimi “we’re the fastest swimmers in our program!”

“Yeah! There’s no point in doing laps if there’s no resistance in the water” wheezed Jin “we all learned to swim in the ocean as children.”

“Hell I bet we can swim with somebody on our backs and still be faster than any of you!” I cackled as the other two nodded their heads, agreeing with me.

“Oh yea!? We challenge you to a no-quirks lap relay!” Bakugo growled “it’s about time we take you down a few notches.”

“Oh it’s ON Blasty!” I growled back “my squad ain’t scared of y’all!”

“What’s the rules chief?” Jin asked as he swam to the marked lanes.

“No-quirks, 5 laps freestyle” Kirishima spoke up “first squad to finish is the victor.”

We get in our lanes and go up against Bakugo, Midoriya and Kirishima. And as expected, the hero squad lagged behind by 40 seconds.

“Oh wow!” I sarcastically stressed my words “looks like our place was in 1st.”

“I’ll get you next time!” Bakugo exploded “you can’t be good at everything!”

Shinso was overlooking everything in the shade, with his towel draped over his shoulders. He doesn’t fully understand why she’s the way she is, nothing is making sense and yet nobody is questioning either! Shinso decided that is was time to ask a certain someone about her.

-Later the same day, in the hero dorms-

Shinso knocks on Iida’s door.

“Come in!” Iida looks up from his book “Oh Shinso-kun, what brings you to my-”

Shinso cuts him off “Tell me everything you know about Palma-san.”

Iida glupped hard and shakily fixes his glasses “Well, she’s a pretty open person!” he struggles to keep his cool “you can ask her anything!”

“I’ve heard that you know the real reason why she’s in the intelligence program” Shinso takes a slow step forward “in fact, they all said that you confronted her and she lost her temper because of it” he takes another step “she won’t tell anybody else, so tell me lover boy, what is she hiding?!”

“I won’t!” Iida stands up to stop him from coming anything closer “I made a promise that I wouldn’t tell anybody her reasons” he takes off his glasses “she’s been through hell since coming here, she just wants good company and freedom to do what she wants.”

“Okay, so tell me this” Shinso had a sly smirk on his face “if you know so much about her, then why aren’t you her boyfriend?” he takes another step “I’ve seen you two interact and you’re all over her like a puppy!”

Iida was taken back “it’s inappropriate to be dating a classmate that has helped us the way she has!” blush creeped up on his face, incriminating himself “she’s my good friend that I care and admire!”

“It’s not like you to blush” he takes another step, just at arms reach of Iida “you’re hopelessly in love with her, admit it!”

“She’s just my-”

“Oh just a friend? Then you won’t mind if I walk over to her” Shinso points to the window, where you can see all of the intel students having a picnic on their side of the field “and ask her to go out with me.”

“DON’T!” Iida blurted before he could restrain himself “I mean- don’t because, um, you’re not her type.”

“Not her type?” Shinso was getting satisfied from breaking Iida down “so you think you’re her type?”

Iida sighed in defeat and sat back down in his desk chair “Okay, so I do like her and we spend a lot of time together” he puts his glasses back on “she’s just so...tiny and sweet and soft” he looks out the window “she smells like marshmallows and flowers, loves the beach, everything she makes is delicious, cries watching Pokemon movies, sleeps with 5 pillows” he sighs longingly “and her singing is angelic, like you’re in the presence of a goddess. Oh the things I’d do to keep her from harm, if she was my girlfriend, I’d be the happiest boy on earth.”

“So what’s the problem?” Shinso raises an eyebrow.

Iida looks away from the window “I fear her rejection and ruining our friendship with my desire to be more” he made eye contact with Shinso “on top of all that, she’s still mourning the life she left behind in America. Confessing would be like insulting her in a way.”

“In mourning? What did she-”

“Look, all I have to say” Iida interrupted “she calls the shots and don’t pry information from her. I’m lucky enough to still be friends with her after all I’d done.”

“Hmm, I’ll keep that in mind” Shinso turns to leave “when I’m kissing her.”

-First day of 2nd term-

“Man, this extra desk is really bothering me” Kaminari commented as they waited for the last class of the day to start “like why is it all the way in the middle of the row?”

“That’s Palma-san’s seat” Jiro spoke up “that’s where she lies on the class ranking if she was in the hero program.”

“I heard that Midnight arranged it like that because she favors her” Momo whispered to Mina “how lucky that Palma-san is!”

In an instant, she teleports in “Hi yall!”

“Yay you’re here!” the girls cheered.

“Oh, is that my seat?!” I look at the surrounding desks “looks like we’re still desk buddies Kirishima.”

“EVERYONE TO YOUR SEATS! CLASS IS ABOUT TO-” Iida announced as he rushed in the class but stopped when he saw Ita sit down. “What a surprise! Our dear classmate has arrived!”

“Tenya sit down!” I scolded “you’re embarrassing me~”

“He has reason to be praising” Aizawa walked in with a stack of papers “you helped raise the class average” he set the papers down “but let see if you can all upkeep that in this half.”

“Your tutoring really helped!” Mina jumped “I got my first 90 percent since starting here.”

Class started and I saw that I was seated between Shinso and Iida. So I got a nice view of the back of Shinso’s head and his backpack and Iida was lucky enough to see the top of my head with all my curls resting on my shoulders. Sensei explained the course and all the off-campus training.

“...and we’re going to have dress out training twice a week” the class groaned when he said that “I don’t want to hear how awful it is! This section is important to hero work.”

I raised my hand.

“Oh? Yes Palma-san?” surprised by my hand, Aizawa called upon me.

“Do I dress out with support items too? Or will I have restrictions again?”

“The same restrictions apply but you do have to dress out like you are going on a mission outside of school” Aizawa explained “so your unmarked jumpsuit and belt will be kept here when you dress out for convenience.”

“Okay, thank you sensei.”

“Moving on, today, we’re going to have some confrontation practice with Cementoss.”

I raise my hand again.

“That includes you too Palma-san” he groaned “as much as it’s not part of your line of work, you unfortunately have to do everything they do this term.”

“Well that’s wack” I dropped my hand and pouted “whatever! I’ll play along.”

We get in our gym clothes and meet with Cementoss in the field. The instructions were clear enough, announce your confrontation to the ‘villain’ and you get graded off that. Things got fucky when it got to my turn.

“Okay Miss Palma, I know its not in your line of work but” Cementoss gestured to his makeshift villain dummy “what do you say when you see the villain?”

I took a dramatic pose and said “Eat my ass, pew!” finger gun and everything. The mix of gasps and laugher boosted my cockiness a bit, even Aizawa was laughing.

“MISS PALMA! We don’t use that language when confronting villains!” Cementoss scolded me.

“Why not? It stuns the villain and the villain can go and eat my ass!” I pouted “I wanted to sit this one out! Should’ve listened to me.”

“It’s true!” Aizawa was coming down from his laughing fit “don’t forget that she’s an agent, technically she’s not supposed to say anything when she comes across a villain.”

“Okay, so what do you do when you see the villain?” Cementoss asks me directly.

I take off my shoes “pretend these are guns” and I make gun noises and pretend to be contacting the sniper team on my earpiece. I took it too far by adding my own dramatics “OH NO! He’s got a gun! I gotta take the hostages to safety!” I gather everyone with my telekinesis and pretended to do the timer gun trick “vaya con Dios PUTO!” I sling the shoe and it hit the dummy on the neck. I mimic the noises and run around a bit “villain has been decommissioned, hostages are secured, my job is done here, requesting retrieving squad.”

“YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO JUST SHOOT?!” cried out Sato.

“Um yea” I said as I set them down “that’s why we get guns but since I’m a raid and combat agent, I get other cool things like tranquilizers and tasers.”

“To be fair” Aizawa turned to Cementoss “she did her part as an agent, full points for her.”

We did the rest of the exercise and headed in a little early. I was the last one back to the class because I got a vocal warning from Cementoss about my language.

“Hey Palma-san!” Shinso stood in front of my desk as I got my bag.

“Oh hi Shinso” I waved as I slung my bag on my back.

“Are you walking today?” he asked a bit awkwardly “I was hoping maybe we could walk to the dorms together.”

“Sure, but I walk slow”

“Fine by me” he chuckled “more time to talk!” When we started walking, he soon saw what I meant by I walk slow. “You weren’t kidding!” he stood and waited for the 5th time in the last 100 yards “is that why he holds your hand?”

“Who? OH you mean Tenya!” I panted a bit as I trotted up to him “yea, but he can out walk anybody.”

“Hmm, you call him by his first name a lot”

“Yea we do that” we started walking again “I understand that calling somebody by their first name is a bit disrespectful but he asked for permission to call me by my preferred name.”

“Which is?”

“Ita, it’s short for Itati” I put some pep to my step “my parents call me by that name because I grew up very short and sweet, just like the name.”

“Mind if I call you that?”

“Sure, can I call you Hitoshi?”

“Sure.”

“Coolio!” I didn’t talk for a short pause “fair warning, I’m gonna shorten and baby-ify your name as endearment.”

“I welcome it” he laughed and looked at her “I see that you get special treatment from the others, must be nice.”

“Eh, it’s not” I stretch out my arms to crack them “I get scolded way more just for following my program’s rules in that class” flashbacks of getting scolded by Tenya replay in my head “it’s mostly Tenya that does the scolding” I mock his chops and voice “Ita! It’s against code to be flashing your chest as distraction! Ita! You can’t keep sneaking out like that on a school night!”

“Heh good one but I can do you one better” he clears his throat and squares his shoulders “Shinso-kun! We eat meals together as a class! Shinso-kun! Don’t do laundry at 3am, it disrupts our sleep! Curfew is 8pm!”

I start howling in laughter “Oh jeez that was spot on!” tears well up in my eyes because of how hard I was laughing “my tummy hurts HOO!”

Shinso looks at her laughing her head off and starts to see what Tenya means. She’s genuine and like an open book, her laugh is tugging at his heartstrings. ‘Maybe Iida is just a coward’ Shinso thinks to himself ‘or maybe she doesn’t like him after all, hmmm, she’ll be mine in no time.’

“We should spend an evening together sometime” he spoke up.

“That sounds nice” I said, picking up on his hint “I’d love that.”

He picks up on her interest “Cool, I thought you might” he chuckles a bit “to be honest, living in the dorms kinda sucks and I need to spend time with someone that doesn’t ask me dumb questions about my habits and quirk.”

“Oof that sounds familiar” I rolled my eyes but looked up at him “but just send me a text and I’d be down with whatever, I know all the cool spots.”

We walk up to the dorms and part ways to our rooms. I get excited that somebody is finally being more forward with their interest in me. For the first time in a long time, it feels like the right person came along. He doesn’t want to change me nor smothers me....you could say that I’m falling for him but we’ll see how that plays out.

-End Chapter 27-

#bnha #mha #self insert au #chapter 27 #not canon #will update regularly #ask me anything #oof sorry for the delayed chapter yall #school started for me and my plate is full #but Im still gonna continue this AU #expect the next chapter in mid October

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imaginesfordayss · 7 years ago

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What are the odds (x)

Summary: Teacher!Clarke + Singer!Bellamy + Soulmate au Word count: 2.2k Warning(s): None, just fluff and tiny bit of angst if you squint

Find it here on Ao3

Clarke looked down at her hand, the beginnings of a scribbled note appearing below her wrist, “Drop ship, 8pm, tuesday’. She almost spilled her coffee. It just so happened that the drop ship was a local lounge in her town and that her soulmate would be making an appearance there this tuesday night.

Now Clarke didn’t necessarily believe in the idea of soulmates, obviously she knew they were out there but of all the stories she’d heard growing up, she’s learned that soulmates were complicated. There was no guarantee that you’d meet them or even like them; her parents hadn’t been soulmates and they’d ended up just fine. Clarke pulled up her sleeve and turned back to her students, “Now I know the deadline is nearing so I hope you’ve all at least started your projects, remember oil or acrylic paint only for full credit, see you wednesday!” The aforementioned students filed out one by one except a brown haired girl sitting in the back. Clarke looked up at her as she neared, Octavia Blake, she was a recent transfer from somewhere upstate. “What can I do for you Miss Blake?” The young girl smiled shyly.

“I know i’m pretty late into the semester, I was wondering if there’s any make-up work you’d like me to do since I won’t be able to participate in the final project?” Clarke smiled at the girl before rummaging through her desk for an empty sheet of paper.

“Of course, how about this, I want you to find a piece of art, or anything really that you think is art and write a paper on it, let’s say two pages. Analyze this art, why it interests you and all that. I’ll give you an extension since it’s pretty short notice and if you have any questions, go ahead and give me a call.” Octavia took the slip of paper smiling at the bright haired woman before hurrying to her next class.

Clarke sighed, again staring at the crooked handwriting on her arm and wondering what she’d do about it. Officially, she was off the clock so she grabbed her laptop and bag and headed to the one person who’d help her figure this out.

“Raven, I’m having a crisis.” She yelled upon entering the auto shop. Raven slid out from under a car near Clarke’s feet giving her the smug look she always gave her.

“Accidentally slept with a cheater again?” Clarke kicked her foot and then pulled up her sleeve for the girl to see. Raven immediately straightened grabbing Clarke’s arm for a closer look. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Unfortunately.”

“You have to go!”

“What? No, I don’t even know them, they could be a terrible person or an alcoholic or something.”

“True, but it’s your soulmate, Griffin. So many people would kill for an opportunity like this. Plus, you need to get out anyway, this whole teaching thing is turning you into a hermit” Clarke glared.

“There’s nothing wrong with marathoning shows in my apartment.”

“We all need a breath of fresh air sometimes..and a few shots of tequila.”

“I mean, I guess. At least come with me.”

“No can do, Shaw’s taking me out tomorrow, real fancy place, I have to shave my legs and everything.” Raven laughed.

“What if they’re a total creep and they kidnap me and chop me up into little pieces?”

“First of all, your imagination is running a little wild and second of all, we both know you can hold down your own, need I remind you of the night you broke Cage Wallace’s nose after he groped you at a PTA meeting? You’ll be fine, and just incase put me on speed dial, problem solved.” Clarke shrugged, she did have a point.

“Fine. See you at home?”

“Pick up wine and ice cream on your way home?” Clarke nodded heading back towards her car with thoughts swirling through her head.

Clarke laid in bed that night tracing over the words, the sounds of some documentary playing in the background. She knew so many things could go wrong, she’d heard the stories of matches that just didn’t work and yet something in her told her that this was a good thing. She hoped her instincts were right, for once.

The start of her tuesday morning was anything but smooth. Raven had used up all the hot water so she hurried through her morning routine while shivering. Then before even leaving the house, she managed to spill coffee all over her only white blouse. Somehow it all managed to go further downhill after that. The traffic made her almost an hour late to class, a student spilled paint on her laptop, and to top it all off a parent felt the need to yell at her because her son was failing the course. It took her several attempts to explain that attendance and actually turning in assignments were necessary for passing. By the end of her last class she was ready to go home and lay under the covers forever.

She did just that, throwing off her heels, her pants, and her bra before sliding under the covers and closing her eyes. Clarke woke several hours later feeling slightly more refreshed, she pulled her phone from the nightstand checking the time, 5:47pm. She still had time, time to make a decision.

And perhaps that was her biggest dilemma of the day, making a decision. For years she’d thought about reaching out to her soulmate, if she even had one. Finally, in the tenth grade she started writing on her hands hoping for a reply, instead she’d wake up with the same faded marks of her own handwriting and nothing else. She figured she probably didn’t have one or if she did, they just didn’t care so eventually the writing stopped and she moved on to other potential relationships; those didn’t work out so much either. She was sure Finn was the one but then she found him kissing another girl who as it turned out, was his girlfriend of 3 years. When she opened herself up again, it was to Lexa. Clarke’s affection to the broody and blunt girl had caught her by surprise but she felt herself hoping that maybe this time she’d gotten it right. But months later, Lexa had run into Costia; Clarke noticed their matching tattoos almost immediately and ended the relationship to save them both the heartache.

Clarke pulled herself out of her thoughts and stared at the ceiling. Go or not go? Screw it, she thought, She’d give love one last chance. She threw on something casual that still held a semblance of cute and available and made her way out the door. Parking was always a hassle around the drop ship so she opted for taking a bus. The drop ship looked the same as it always did, old, worn, with just a hint of modern touch courtesy of the new owners. She’d always wondered how they managed to open a place that worked as a bookstore, a bar, and a local hangout for teens.

The place seemed to be unusually crowded today as she walked in, noticing chairs lining the main stage and a line at the bar. She’d been here for open mic night a few months back when Raven talked her into having a girl’s night and it hadn’t been nearly as crowded as this so she figured something big was going on and found a seat near the back. She sat around for ten minutes or so wondering how the hell she was gonna be able to even find her soulmate in here but before she could think of a solution, the lights dimmed and her attention was brought back to the stage.

“I see familiar faces in the crowd, and a few newbies too. Anyway, for those of you who’ve never been, welcome to the Dropship, I’m Miller. My best friend and I bought this place a while back so let me just say we are grateful to you for your support and continued help in transforming this place into a spot for people to have fun. So anyway let’s get this thing started, here’s Skaikru!” The crowd cheered as Clarke watched a group of people walk onto the stage. The sounds of guitars and drums vibrated through the room as a melodic voice filled her ears. She vaguely recognized their faces from a local band poster she’d seen around the high school, her eyes narrowed on the drummer recognizing the girl instantly as Octavia Blake. Clarke found herself smiling and then nodding along to the beat, the vocalist’s voice was mesmerizing and soon she’d forgotten what she came to the lounge for in the first place. He had what looked like a permanent smirk etched onto his face, his sweat drenched curls sticking to his forehead as he sang to the crowd.

She wasn’t sure how long their set lasted but as they left the stage she felt herself wanting more, she was sure she’d listen to the guy’s voice even if he was just reading off a grocery list; it didn’t hurt that he was nice to look at either.

“Miss Griffin?” She turned at the sound of her name finding Octavia staring at her.

“Oh Hi, Miss Blake, I didn’t know you were in a band? You guys were really good.” The girl brightened immediately.

“It’s my brother’s band, Bellamy, he’s letting me fill in on drums while Roan’s on holiday. Oh there he is, Bell!” Clarke turned to find the girl waving over the vocalist from before, she blushed, realizing she’d been mooning over her student’s brother. “Bell, this is Miss Griffin she’s my painting teacher.” Bellamy reached a hand out to the blonde giving her a once over.

“Call me Clarke, you guys were, uh, really good up there.” Bellamy smiled involuntarily instantly finding himself attracted to her, though he felt a little guilty considering she taught his sister.

“I’m Bellamy...thanks. You, uh wanna grab a drink or something, you can tell me all about how much a mess I’m sure my sister has made in your class.” Octavia punched his shoulder in retaliation. “Go help Murphy pack up the equipment O.” Octavia rolled her eyes as her brother’s obvious attempt to make her leave so he could flirt with Clarke.

“It was good to see you, Miss Griffin, I already have some ideas for my essay that I wanna run by you on friday.”

“Sounds good.” And with that the girl was off, sprinting to the stage to help Murphy load up the remaining mics.

“So what brings you here?” Bellamy asked casually, signalling for Miller to slide him a beer.

“Kind of a weird story actually.”

“I’ve got time.”

“Uhm, well…” what harm could it do? “Well actually I’m supposed to meet my soulmate. Okay, no, not exactly meet, but, okay so they’re supposed to be here but, oh my god, okay just look.” Clarke stopped babbling and pulled up her sleeve to show him in the low light. Bellamy grabbed her arm to examine it closer, his face growing pale for half a second and then he just stared at her in a way that completely unnerved her, so of course, she kept talking, “I know it’s kind of weird or whatever but this is the first time they’ve ever written anything and I thought it was worth a shot but I guess it doesn’t really matter now anyway,” She looked around at the nearly empty room; they’d probably left already. She looked back to Bellamy who still hadn’t said anything.

“Clarke.” He spoke suddenly.

“Sorry, too personal?” Bellamy laughed shaking his head in disbelief as he pulled up the sleeve of his jacket to show Clarke the matching handwriting on his wrist. Clarke nearly choked on her drink, putting it down she hesitantly traced her fingers over his arm. “Oh.” She whispered, so quietly she wasn’t sure if he’d heard.

“What are the odds?”

“So you’re not a serial killer or anything right? Because that was like like half of my consideration for not showing up tonight.” Bellamy laughed again and she found herself loving the sound more than she’d like to admit.

“No, I’m not a serial killer. Do you wanna get some coffee or something, I’m not exactly sure how this whole thing works.”

“Yeah, coffee sounds great and don’t worry. I’m sure we can figure it out together.”

Years later Clarke would stare at Bellamy with a smile gracing her face and think of how she almost didn’t show up to the Drop ship, how she almost gave up the chance to meet him. She never would have had the chance to fall in love with him and every little thing about him. She was almost surprised by the force at which her love for him sprouted. She was meant to be taking it slow, trying not to ruin another relationship by going in blindly but then Bellamy would laugh or look at her and she couldn’t stop herself from being so irrevocably drawn to him.

She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to show her that this relationship would fail, and yet, year after year they remained together, always the couple everyone hated because they were so annoyingly into each other. It was around the sixth year that she realized she could just let herself be happy with him, she didn’t have to worry about every little argument or the chance that he’d fall in love with someone else. Bellamy wasn’t going anywhere, he never would.

#the 100 #t100 #the 100 imagine #bellarke #bellamy blake x clarke griffin #bellarke fic #imagine #drabble challenge

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thedivinefish · 5 years ago

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TGIWednesday and a new baby

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Whoa! A new baby? Several of my intuitive friends kept seeing a new baby around me in the Spring. Considering I’m fixed I told them “no way”. But my oldest son surprised us all yesterday with the announcement that he and his wife are expecting. Well, I just want it on record that I am ruling out names like Covid and Rona for first names... just sayin'. So even out of all this mess comes a new life into this world. Even though we’re often knee deep in mud, conspiracy and yes sometimes even frustration and anger towards people, places, things and situations... life still marches on. Often it is to remind us that there is always good to consider, to look at and to be thankful for. So remember that during these times and keep the faith that as Granny Ruth always said, “and this too shall pass” tough times don’t last, strong people do.

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divinefishingtips · 5 years ago

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365dailyaffirmations · 5 years ago

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TGIWednesday and a new baby

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Have spirit show me a new way to make money.

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Help me get out of this sense of overwhelm!

You get the idea :)

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Yesterday'sShow - Special Guest Kimberly Marooney Angel Readings and Intuitive Readings

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advancedthetapractitioner · 5 years ago

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TGIWednesday and a new baby

TGIWednesday News

TGIWednesday Download

LIVE Appearances - Free Healing

Monthly Zoom Event - MySwitchWorks

Have spirit show me a new way to make money.

Show me & tell me how to take out the blocks preventing me from making progress.

Get me past my stuck energy.

Release my lack of motivation.

Help me get out of this sense of overwhelm!

You get the idea :)

ACCESS CALL REPLAYS HERE

The Jimmy Mack Healing Radio Show

**NEW TIME** TUESDAY'S at 4pm EDT / 1pm PDT CALL IN (206) 806-9965 https://www.freeconferencecall.com/wall/goldylocksproductions

Click Here for Previous Weeks' Show and a full archive of past guests & replays.

Yesterday'sShow - Special Guest Kimberly Marooney Angel Readings and Intuitive Readings

Fish Food

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Tell The Fish: 365 Daily Inspirations & Affirmations

From the Fish Box

Receive 24/7 Prayers from Jimmy

The 30-day service is now being offered exclusively and you also have the option of selecting an ongoing subscription ($95/month) which is managed through PayPal only.

Sessions at the Tampa Office

FRIDAY KODAWARI YOGA STUDIOS *Last week for Friday phone appointments, expected return to Kodawari is May 29th

Go deep sea "fishing" with Jimmy!

Level 1 is open to ANYONE at anytime! To All Mastery Students: If you haven't taken the time to complete the course and book your Certification test with Jimmy - now is a great time!!

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buzzdixonwriter · 7 years ago

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RIP Rose Marie (1923 - 2017)

If I had to point to one seminal influence in my creative career, it would be The Dick Van Dyke Show.

I used to watch it by sneaking out of bed.

The show ran from 1961 to 1966, but after an initial run at 8pm on Tuesdays, it moved to 9:30pm on Wednesdays.

Let me tell you about Wednesdays and Southern Baptists.

Southern Baptists -- at least when I was growing up -- were the church goingest folks around.

You had Sunday school early on Sunday morning, followed by the actual church service at 10am or so, then you’d come back in the evening for Training Union, which was essentially Sunday school lite since you didn’t have to wear a tie, then to help you get through the week on Wednesdays there would be a prayer meeting (except one week a month when it was a business meeting).

Being good Southern Baptists -- well, let’s change that to loyal Southern Baptists -- my family would go to prayer meetings on Wednesdays.

This meant I couldn’t see Top Cat which aired early Wednesday evenings. I admit as an 8 year old I struggled mightily with the theological reasons why I couldn’t watch a Hanna-Barbera cartoon.

It also means I probably didn’t see my first Dick Van Dyke Show episode until sometime in 1962.

Watching the show was no easy task for little 8 year old Buzzy boy.

See, as soon as we came home from prayer meeting, teeth were brushed, jammies put on, prayers said (even though we’d just spent an hour or more praying at church), and I and my brothers were put to bed.

This meant in bed by 9pm.

Then as now I was a night owl (or considering my age, a night owlet).

Putting me in bed did no damn good; I typically stayed awake for another hour or so, creating stories in my head or listening to my parents and the TV in the living room.

And I heard them -- or rather, my mom -- laughing at The Dick Van Dyke Show.

So I started sneaking out of bed to watch along with them.

Now, my scheme had its risk, because if I got caught I could be punished. And to maintain a level of plausible deniability, I couldn’t wear my glasses; I needed an alibi why I was out of bed and wearing glasses would betray my true intent (i.e., to watch TV).

So I would creep out of bed, sneak to the living room door, and peek over my dad’s armchair while he snored away and mom watched The Dick Van Dyke Show.

(Dad never was much of a fictional TV watcher, preferring news, sports, and documentaries. The only two shows I remember him watching with any regularity were The Untouchables and The Twilight Zone. The Untouchables I could understand; it was a highly fictionalized account of Elliot Ness pretty much single-handedly bringing down every gangster, outlaw, and sex-crazed killer in Depression era America, and as such recounted the sensational news stories my father read and heard as a child. But The Twilight Zone was a head scratcher; for a guy as grounded in reality as he was, why watch a show with such an overt fantasy content? “I figure if I’m going to watch something made up, I might as well go all the way,” Dad explained.)

So Dad would be conked out in his chair, and mom would either be ironing or mending socks or something while watching TV.

And, being partially deaf, she had the set’s volume up good and loud.

So I’d sneak up behind Dad’s chair, peer over it at the TV (which gave me only a blurry view of the proceedings) and listened intently to what I heard.

And what I heard truly changed my life.

I heard a story about a guy who had a really wonderful life: He was married to a smart, beautiful woman whom he loved and who loved him back; he had a really great job writing for a hit TV show, and the job was never really work but more like loosely organized play; and the reason his job never felt like work was because he had two great co-writers who were also dear and loyal friends.

Dick Van Dyke Mary Tyler Moore Morey Amsterdam Rose Marie

I cannot stress how much of an impact The Dick Van Dyke Show had on my psyche. As I grew older and caught the show on summer re-runs (local CBS stations often ran earlier season repeats of hit prime time shows in the middle of the day), the full range and scope of the series sank in on me.

Created by Carl Reiner (who occasionally appeared as the mercurial TV star Van Dyke & co were writing for), the series was based on Reiner’s earlier career writing for such programs as Caesar's Hour and Your Show of Shows. As such, it carried an air of authenticity usually missing in shows and films about creative people, and so provided my point of entry into the lore of show biz.

And I was not alone. Ask any fair sampling of my generation of American TV writers to name key influences in their lives and careers, and you’ll find The Dick Van Dyke Show listed nine times out of ten.

And while Dick Van Dyke was the star of the show, all his co-stars were playing fully developed characters, each with their own strengths, foibles, and quirks.

Rose Marie’s Sally Rogers was a career gal at a time and in a field where Southern Baptists frowned on women going.

Hollywood was always the great Satan’s playground to Southern Baptists, and except for spinster school teachers or church secretaries, women were not supposed to have a career outside of their family (or the family business, since a lot of Southern Baptists women were also farm wives or helping run their husband’s store or garage).

Sally Rogers was clearly none of that but rather a strong, tough minded, and razor sharp lady who could stand up to anything the male dominated system could throw at her.

She reminded me of my Aunt Bidney in many ways (though Bidney never cared about snagging a man the way Sally did -- and that was the genius of Sally’s character and Rose Marie’s performance: She clearly didn’t need a man to be a fully realized person and her perennial manhunt was viewed by the other characters as a personality quirk, not a tragic flaw).

If The Dick Van Dyke Show informed me what my career ambitions should be, Sally and the other characters informed me on how to treat my co-workers (with respect and as friends).

The lessons little Buzzy boy gleaned over the top of his snoozing Dad’s chair have stuck with me all my life and to good effect.

I’m married to a wonderful woman who loves me.

I’m a writer, and I got to work on some of the most iconic shows in TV’s history.

I got to work with, and count as dear friends, some of the greatest creative talents in any media.

And I never fell into the trap of thinking my female co-workers (or my Jewish co-workers, or by extension those of other faiths and cultures and ethnicities and races) as anything less that individuals to be judged by their own behavior, not what I’d been told to think about them.

So thank you, Rose Marie, for what you helped do to shape my life for the good.

I only hope I’ve been able to pay the favor forward.

#The Dick Van Dyke Show #Dick Van Dyke #Carl Reiner #Mary Tyler Moore #Rose Marie #Morey Amsterdam #television #writing #creativity

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sending-the-message · 8 years ago

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Schnieder's Specialty Meats- My First Catering by gentlesatann

This is the backstory to my current situation.

It was Wednesday that I had been called into the office and had signed my blood oath to a man I’d only known for a few short months. Friday was the big day, the day that I started my training as a caterer. Jason told me to take Thursday off to ‘prepare myself’. I had no idea what that meant or what these trips would entail, all I knew is that I needed to be ready for anything. How does one prepare for something one knows nothing about? Well, I was about to find out.

Before leaving his office, Jason gave me implicit instructions. On Friday I was to arrive promptly at 12pm to the catering office wearing a white button down shirt, black dress pants and all black shoes. There I would receive the itinerary of the day. I was to follow it exactly as it was written and do nothing outside of my duties. I was not to engage any guests unless it was to ask if I could help them in any way, or clear their table. I would be help loading the catering vehicle before we left, and I was to, under no circumstances, eat any of the food. The customers, he relayed, had paid top dollar for this food. If any of it was missing, it would be his ass. He made it clear that if I broke any rules, it would not end well for me and left it at that.

Thursday night I tried to go to bed early, assured that what the next day would bring would need to be met with proper sleep. As soon as I closed my eyes, my head started pounding. My thoughts were racing faster than my consciousness could keep up. As soon as I thought I had a grasp on what I was panicking about, it was already onto the next anxiety.

The front runner to most of my anxious thoughts was: how far would I be pushed ethically? I had absolutely no idea what was expected of me, but I couldn’t back out now. As deep as the fear in me ran about the tasks I was to perform, a deeper unknown clung itself to the core of my being and dragged it down to the pits of my humanity. This unfathomable worry of leaving my family destitute.

I could handle it, if it were only me. But these wonderful people who’d done everything and sacrificed their entire lives to raise both my brother and I the best they could. They did everything within their power to give us everything they didn’t have. To see them not only emotionally but fiscally suffer for something so out of their control would be worse than torture. That’s what kept my resolve.

I had already made up an excuse to tell my parents about the sudden influx of money. I’d tell them that Jason had made me a partner of the business, desperately needing someone. They already knew how well I was doing in a short while and Jason had okayed me using any excuse necessary to make no one suspicious. He gave me a dozen of his business cards to hand out to anyone who had questions. I took this as solidarity, as he was a naturally convincing man.

I eventually drifted off to the sound of my heartbeat pounding like a drum in my ear. I’m not sure when that was, but I peeled my eyes open as my alarm clock blared its way through my foggy consciousness. I took a deep breath. It was time.

I slowly climbed out of bed, drowsiness weighing me down, and put on my newly bought catering outfit. I put my hair up in a pony tail, looked in the mirror and took a deep breath. I was ready. I had to be.

When I got to work, I went straight to the catering office door. It, of course, was locked. I knocked lightly. The door immediately opened, and the catering director hurried me through the door. The office was even more spacious than Jason’s. It was tastefully decorated with old style looking signs and framed

pictures of Schnieder’s in black and white. Articles about the establishment littered the wall, as well as newspaper and businesses naming Schieder’s Specialty Meats the #1 catering place in the Midwest.

At the desk was a brand new computer, which clashed with the antiquity of not only the room itself but the entire establishment. Sitting at one of the two chairs on the opposite side of the desk was a fairly attractive guy in his early thirties, thumbing through his phone and looking thoroughly bored. He didn’t even look up from his screen when the catering director shut the door and it gave an echoing thud.

“Bethany, I presume?” the tall, gangly looking woman questioned, offering her hand out to me in a professional manner.

I shook her hand and attempted to fake a smile. “Yes, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“And the same to you,” she parroted, “My name is Rea.”

She sat down behind the desk and asked me to have a seat next to who she called Dustin.

“Now, I want to be perfectly clear,” she spoke in a calm but stern voice, “all I want is for us to complete this job with efficiency. Dustin and I know what we’re doing. You, however, do not. You are to listen to our instructions and never question us. Do you understand?”

I was taken aback by her matter-of-fact manner, but nodded compliantly.

“Good,” she hissed, with a pleased expression.

“Your instructions are as follows: you are to help us load the products carefully onto the truck, ALWAYS with gloves on. If you handle the food with your gloves off, that’s a strike. Five strikes and you’re in breach of your conduct code. However, don’t think you can make five egregious mistakes. A strike is just a frivolous rule. To break a rule stated on your contract is means for immediate eradication. No questions asked. Do you understand?”

“Yes ma’am,” I assured, as the knot in my stomach grew exponentially. Why hadn’t I read the contract? Was I really so desperate?

“Good. Now, tonight will go as follows. We will load up the truck, and you will be riding in the back with everything, making sure nothing falls on the drive in. Once we get there, we will set up a large double sided buffet. On location, Dustin and I will instruct you where to place things chronologically, as that is important.”

“You will, under no circumstances, speak with the guests. If they ask you about the buffet, you are to smile and refer them to me and only me. You are not to answer any questions outside of this, nor to do anything but smile and thank the guests for coming. You are absolutely not allowed to eat any of the food. You are to leave your cellphones at this location. No devices that could transmit signal are to come with as soon as you set foot on the truck.”

“Anything that happens onsight is to never be repeated, unless a statement is required by either myself or Jason. This will be clause for an automatic breach of contract, and will lead to severe consequences.”

“At 6’oclock PM the event will start. You are to make sure that everything is in place by then, as there can be no delays. At precisely 8pm, we will be responsible for the entire clean up of the area, including any waste left by guests. Do you agree?”

“I agree,” I stated blankly, trying not letting my emotion reach my voice.

“Wonderful! We will be taking another newly trained catering operative, and we will head out. Dustin will direct you in what to load where in the truck. Dustin?”

Dustin finally looked up from his phone and gave an unconcerned grunt in agreement. He sighed loudly as he put his phone on the desk, got up lazily and told me to follow him.

I sprang up from my seat and followed him out the door to the meat cutting room. From there he apathetically told me to load a few hot boxes full of trays onto the truck, and to keep doing that until everything was gone.

After the truck was all loaded up, Rea told me to get into the back of the truck as her and a guy I’d never seen before got into the front of the truck. Dustin gave me a blank look as he closed the back doors of the truck, leaving me in total darkness.

I don’t know how long it took. Not having a phone or light, it’s easier than you think to lose time. All I know is that when the truck finally came to a halt, Rea opened the creaky, obviously rusted, doors. The sunlight pierced painfully through my eyes. Once they adjusted, I saw everyone was waiting at the door with a look that told me that it was time to get down to business.

I climbed out and looked around. We seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. The only other visible thing, other than empty farm fields, was a gala looking tent. Guests were arriving on the gravel road leading up to the place in fancy looking vehicles and limousines. I even saw a Roll’s Royce. It was odd to see the combination of bright shining vehicles, fully formal dresses/ suits and the dirt that the vehicles kicked up as they drove away.

I didn’t look too hard or too much at any specific thing. I didn’t have the time to. Within minutes of getting out of the truck, I was having orders barked at by Dustin, transformed into a serious worker, and this other guy, who I’d assumed was the anonymous caterer. I was to put this chafer here, and that there. We set up a table in back of the spacious and elegantly decorated tent while the guests started piling in. We left quite a bit of food in the truck, so I figured there would be a lot of moving back and forth for refilling. We were directed to leave anything with a pink mark in the truck, and to bring out anything with a green. Backups versus originals.

While carting things back and forth from the truck to the barn, I couldn’t help but notice several things. Although the ground was covered in hay and dirt, many of the guests in the front of the room had on high heels and dresses for some type of glamorously formal event. I could see the dust collecting on the men’s dress shoes. It seemed like more trouble than it was worth.

The next thing I noticed was the influx of people who were wearing tattered clothes and looked like they hadn’t showered in days. They started seating themselves at the back tables, close to where we were setting up. The stench of unbathed bodies lingered in the air by the buffet table. I didn’t know how anyone could have an appetite while smelling such a thing. I didn’t understand any of it, and only had just gotten away with stolen glances while going back and forth from the truck to the buffet table.

There were many tables set up throughout the tent, each with silk table cloths, a beautiful flower center piece, and an expensive looking bottle of champagne on each table. The only thing different about the tables was the clear segregation between formal wear and tattered clothing. There was also an elongated table at the front of the barn with all established guests sitting behind it, with a podium in the middle. I actually recognized some of the people behind the front table. Some were prominent politicians. Some were CEO’s that had been in the news for nefarious business practices. I pretended not to notice.

One of the well-dressed men, in a three-piece suit from the head table eventually stood up and strode gracefully to the podium. The carefully strung up lights on the tent’s ceiling dimmed, leaving only two lights at either side of the podium on. It looked eerie. The man’s teeth were almost too white, his expression almost inhumanly ecstatic.

“Thank you everyone for coming to our charity event,” he boomed over the microphone.

“As you know, this is an event that we have set up for the homeless. Their plight is something none of us could ever understand, so our company raised funds so that they could all have a meal of the finest quality. After the meal is over, each will receive a cash stipend of 1,000 dollars, as well as live rent free in a building generously donated by (a well-known construction company. Redacted for obvious reasons). Everyone give a round of applause to these brave heroes,” the speaker proclaimed, excitedly.

The crowd reacted with as much admiration as they had enthusiasm. The well-dressed portion of the audience stood up in applause, only to be beaten out by the poorly clothed other half.

It was just then that I noticed the cameras. There were at least half a dozen professional looking video recorders, each being manned by someone dressed in all black.

“And now,” the slick politician spoke, “let the homeless have a meal, curtesy of the CEO of (notorious computer company). No one from the end of the room better get up to eat before them, only if you’re willing to admit you are before them as a human being. ”

The large enclosure made the large applause from both ends of the barn echo.

I was entranced by how well and eloquently this man spoke. A true politician.

A whisper snapped me back to focus.

“My name’s Jared, by the way,” the twenty some year old said quietly, leaning against the buffet table.

“I’m Bethany.” I whispered back.

“Well, Bethany, I don’t know about you, but if these homeless fucks get a steak, then I think I deserve one too.” Jared retorted. I rolled my eyes. Classy.

Before the speech ended, he looked around to see where Rea and Dustin were. They were both prepping the other food down the long buffet and seemed to be focused on little else. He lifted up one of the chafers on the table and snuck a steak. It smelled absolutely delicious. My own stomach rumbled as I fantasized about taking one, too. The difference was, I wasn’t that stupid. He proceeded to sneak out of the tent while the man at the podium continued his speech. He returned back within a couple minutes, assuring me he was ready for work.

Dustin and Rea bustled up to me and Jared with grave expositions. Rea talked in a low voice, almost a whisper, but her dead pan inflection told me I better strain to hear every word.

“We now are at the most important part of the night. Now, right after they approach the line you are to immediately exist the tent, do you understand me? You both are to wait in the back of the truck until Dustin and I come and get you. Be prepared to work and work quickly when we do.”

“Before we have these fine ladies and gentleman grab their meals, I’d like to briefly thank Schnieder’s Specialty Meats for agreeing to cater tonight. It’s because of them that this unique and wonderful night can be had by all.” The speaker extended his arm out towards us in the back. “Let’s give them a hand!” People in the room turned and looked in our direction, smiling approvingly and applauding.

Rea elbowed me gently in the ribs. I looked up to see her smiling back with a friendly wave. I figured she meant for me to do the same.

“Okay, well let’s not starve these people any longer! Anyone sitting at a back table, our esteemed and honored guests, may get up and eat their fill!”

Without a moment’s hesitation, the tabled was swarmed by sunken faces and dirty hands, all almost fighting each other to get their food. I was shocked by how violent and desperate their motions seemed to be. Some even began cramming food in their mouths right at the table so they could pile more on their plates. I sympathetically wondered how long it’d been since any of them had had a real meal. I felt my apprehension replaced by a wave of relief that they were getting this to eat.

I looked up to see Rea motioning for Jared and I to get out. Jared was staring off into the distance, concentrating on something intently. I shook his arm lightly, ushering him forward with me towards the truck. He followed behind me. Once I exited the tent, a cool breeze hit me and sent shivers down my spine. It was almost dusk. Hopefully this was all almost over.

As I strode towards the truck, I realized I heard no footsteps behind me. Jesus Christ, Jared was going to get us both into trouble. I spun around, thoroughly irritated to see him walking slowly with a strange gait. Before I could ask if he was alright, he gasped as if he’d had the wind knocked out of him and clutched his stomach with both his arms, doubling over. I ran towards him in a panic.

By the time I got to him he had thick streams of blood running down from his bulged eyes. He made a choking sound, spewing thick, dark red out of his mouth. In seconds it pooled around his head and his face grew pale and contorted in a way no human face ever should. He began seizing violently. I had no idea what to do. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t move.

Suddenly I heard a chorus of shrieks coming from the tent followed by several thuds. Crashing noises clanged out along with violent and desperate moans and sobs.

“Help me! For fuck’s sakes somebody fucking help me!”

“Why aren’t you doing anything?”

“Oh god, it hurts so much, oh god!”

I’d never heard so many people in such distress before. These sounds, although I wasn’t at all familiar with, I knew they were wrong. They went against every part of my humanity.

I was too shocked to put a coherent string of thoughts together. I just stood there, dumbfounded as the cries echoed through my head and reverberated against my skull. They slowly died down before extinguishing all together, erasing themselves from existence. But they weren’t erased. I still felt them crawling around in my head, attaching themselves there forever.

Rea quickly rushed out of the tent, Dustin in tow. Both of their faces were completely blank, as if they hadn’t experienced what I had. But they had to have, didn’t they?

“What are you doing out of the truck? I specifically-“ Rea stopped mid rage after she looked down to see Jared’s lifeless body, a look of suffering forever etched on him. Her gaze quickly shifted up to me.

“I told that dumb ass not to eat the food.” She sighed deeply. “At least he can’t fuck anything else up now.”

My mouth dropped open. Before I could think of anything to say, the same smooth voice from earlier came to life over the microphone.

“Wasn’t that something, folks?” The enthusiastic yells and applause was deafening.

“They’ll no longer litter our streets. We’ve cleaned up a lot of trash tonight…” was all I heard before all I could hear was static. I was in such shock that the word started distorting around me. Everything was spinning and I saw purple dots. I felt like I was about to pass out.

Rea snapped right in front of my face.

“Hun, I need you to pull yourself together. We need to clean up in there before we set out the real food. You’re not being paid for nothing,” she quipped.

“Dustin!” Rea called out loudly, “get the wheel barrows!”

She then turned back to me, giving me a small, almost sympathetic knowing smile. “Welcome to the special part of Schnieder’s Specialty Meats.”

#reddit #nosleep #scary #story

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