#but next thursday the weather gets cooler

[qvietspvce]

i have done tasks. i have many more tasks to do because i plan on using all of my solar powered brain (aka before the seasonal affective disorder kicks in to make me Depressed) to finish at least one project in my house

[georgiedoodles]

📚Broppy CollegeAU | "Campus Days"

◊ It's the beginning of the Fall semester at Popvillage College and Branch attends his first class of the day. Just when he thinks he'll have a quiet and peaceful semester, another student comes to class late and the only available seat is next to Branch.

Part one: Orientation

It was a warm summer morning; the breeze was fresh, and the sun blazed down from the sky. Fresh green shrubbery was swaying with the breeze and flowers bloomed with bright fluorescent colors. The hot summer days were coming to an end, and the cooler fall weather was just around the corner.

Today is Branch’s first day of the new fall semester at Popville College. The campus was crowded with newly enrolled and returning students looking for their classes. Branch had to get to campus early to beat the ‘first week of school’ traffic and fight for parking. In the parking lot, he parks in the furthest spot next to some shrubs and trees. He locks his car, an old Toyota Camry, and slings his backpack over his left shoulder as he walks down the parking lot. He makes his way down the stairs and towards the art building. Surrounding the art classes are fields of fresh green vegetation, with lush bushes and large overhead trees, shading the students from the blazing summer sun. Branch quickly looks at his college app for the directory, “2D Art: building 1A, classroom #3”, this class is held on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 9:45AM until 1:30PM. He quickly looks for the class, it’s just behind the large tile mural and next to a set of lockers, and makes his way inside.

Inside, Branch is engulfed in the fresh air conditioning and sighs with relief. He walks through a plethora of easels that had a few students occupying them and finds a well-lit spot in the back of the classroom in front of a large window. Sitting down on the beat-up office chair, he pulls a cart to his left and sets his belongings in the trays, waiting for class to begin. As he waits, he can see that everyone else trickles in, sitting in vacant spots that are not next to him, he is secluded and is next to only one other easel to his left. He’s thankful when the bell rings and no one decides to take the seat next to his station. Branch angles his easel to the right so he can clearly see his professor in the front at his desk, clearly reading some emails before he starts the orientation.

Right as the professor opens his mouth to begin, a roar of footsteps is coming down from the hall and the door is shoved open. A pink troll, she looks frazzled and sweaty, with a large art portfolio hanging on her right shoulder and her large cup of coffee in her left hand, she’s panting and readjusting herself. The professor coughs and greets her,

“Hi, you’re just in time, please take a seat wherever available, we were just about to start.” He said with an understanding smile, day one is always brutal.

The pink student quickly apologizes and looks around. All the other easels have been taken, then she sees the spot next to Branch and quickly shuffles her way to the back. As she walks, the professor begins his introductions, but Branch stops listening to watch the student make her way next to him. She pulls another cart to her right and angles her easel to her left, gently placing her portfolio against the wall, quickly chugging some of her coffee, and finally plopping herself in the other beat-up office chair. She looks over to Branch and greets him with a smile and an enthusiastic wave.

The professor asks all the students to turn to their neighbors and greet them with a short list of things to talk about as an icebreaker. Branch turns to his left and meets the pink troll with an awkward smile.

“So would you like to start first?” He adjusts his seat to look at her. She’s wearing a blue flowy long-sleeve crop top and gold jewelry. She turns her body to face him and adjusts her high ponytail by tightening the sky-blue flower scrunchy.

“Sure!” The pink troll says, “Well, hi, my name is Poppy. I am 22 years old, and I am majoring in art and education! I love drawing, of course, and I love dancing and eating with my friends!” She says with an animated wave of her hands and a chuckle.

“Oh, okay well nice to meet you.” Branch waves shyly, rubbing his hands on his knees. He’s wearing oversized brown corduroy pants and a thin green cardigan with a ‘grass’ pattern, inside is a plain muted dark green T-shirt. “My name is Branch, I am 24 years old, I am majoring in History, and I like to garden, play video games, and draw.” He shrugs and looks outside the window on his left.

Poppy lights up and asks more questions, “Oh my gosh, what do you like to draw?? I normally like illustrating from shows and movies or sometimes video games if the characters look cute, but what about you??” She wiggles with excitement; she knows half of the students taking these classes are only doing it for credits but it’s always nice to know someone else who draws for fun.

  Branch looks back at her and rubs his neck with his left hand, “Well I like to study plants sometimes, just to get to know them better and see if they benefit us in any way, so I draw and paint them to have a better understanding of their makeup. It also helps to have a visual reference I had since I can sample the plant into my journal.” He looks a little shy and reluctant to go into detail, but it’s one of his interests.

“OMG you have to show me, that sounds so awesome and really fun!” the pink troll gasped, her hands dramatically hovering over her cheeks and her flower bracelet was visible.

Branch seems to hesitate before he looks into her eyes, there’s no sign of malice so, maybe it will be okay.

“As long as you promise not to make fun of me, I’m still learning, and they’re not organized to the fullest so... it might be a bit hectic.” He struggled to keep eye contact, hopefully, she’s taking his words into consideration.

“Of course! I am an artist too and I have MANY sketchbooks that need a little TLC, especially the ones I’ve painted in” She playfully winces at the idea of all her work, smoothing out her turquoise mini-skort and waits for Branch’s response.

He continues to stare for a few more seconds before he slowly reaches the second tray of his cart, pulling out a brown hard-cover journal from his backpack. He unlatches the lock on the edge and places it flat on the carts between them. Before he can say anything else, the professor interrupts the class to continue orientation, grabbing everyone’s attention. Branch looks at Poppy and slides his journal closer to her, meekly smiling and nodding to her, giving permission to look through the journal while class is in session.

The class is listening in on the orientation the professor is giving, it’s the usual stuff about campus and the free 2-week parking all students are given for the first 2 weeks of school, then he starts talking about the syllabus and all the materials needed for his course. Of course, this will practically cost an arm and a leg for the amount of supplies they will need for the semester.

As Branch highlights and writes annotations in his copy of the class syllabus, Poppy is engulfed by Branch’s journal. It’s a hard-cover journal made of recycled paper, and not just any recycled paper, but handmade ones. She cautiously looks through the carefully detailed work he dedicated to this journal, titled “Book #4”, and looks through the pages of plants, flowers, vegetables, and fruits that he meticulously charted and dated. At one point she ended up on a page about Poppie flowers.

Written down is a brief description of the flower, “Blooming in the Spring and Summer seasons, most prominently in August, are Poppies flowers. Native to Eurasia and North Africa, some variants of Poppies thrive in cooler climates, while others such as California Poppies (Eschscholzia Californica) thrive in warmer temperatures up to 90 degrees Fahrenheit / 32.22 C.” As Poppy continues to read, she is distracted by the painting of the flower, it seems to be painted with gouache and has a sample of a flattened version of the model next to it. She admires the artwork, gently running her fingerpads on the dried Poppie flower.

As she continues to read, Branch glances over to her to see what she’s looking at in that moment and sees her admiring his work. A blush creeps up on his cheek and side smiles to hide his amusement from her point of view, bringing his focus back to the professor.

As the class ends early, the professor lets everyone know to get their materials as soon as possible since they are not the only students who need these supplies. With a wave and smile, the class is dismissed.

Poppy gently closes Branch’s Journal and passes it back to him. He takes it and stuffs it back inside his backpack and begins to gather his belongings. Poppy grabs her coffee and brings her portfolio as she notices his syllabus, it has notes listing what materials he needs to buy, and the store he will go to.

“So, are you buying your materials today?” She peeks from behind her coffee cup as she takes a sip.

Branch looks at her and shrugs, “I can’t today, I have another class and the store will close before my last class ends today. I’ll have to go tomorrow; I should have enough time to buy it all before the materials are due.” He picks up his syllabus and folds it into his pocket, hopefully, he can get everything before the other students empty the shelves like vultures they are.

Poppy looks a bit bummed out, “Oh- Okay yeah, I think I need to go tomorrow as well, I need to wait for my sister to get out of her class before I can go home, we share a car and go and from class together every day. I can’t go to the recommended art store since it’s an hour drive from here, hopefully, you get all your materials until then!” She clasps her cup in her hands and rocks on her heels as she smiles at him.

Branch grabs the last of his belongings and begins walking with Poppy to the front door. They both head out and separate in different directions, Branch waves at Poppy and heads straight to his next class. Poppy waves back and walks to the right towards the library, hopefully to begin the little homework she already has, or doodle and daydream until her sister gets out of class. Next Part

[tommymllrr]

coffee shop cowboy [ch. 2]

agent whiskey x barista!reader (coffee shop!au)

summary: if you were being honest, you’d had an absolute garbage day. up until the moment he strode through the front door of the cute little café that you worked at in those stupid cowboy boots.

rating: Explicit, 18+ (MINORS DNI)

word count: 6.1k

warnings: cunnilingus, oral sex, blowjob, vaginal fingering, soft!agent whiskey, lot of kisses

notes: here's chapter 2!! reader is afab, but no pronouns or gendered terms are used so it can be read as gender-neutral. also i'm not super active here so find me on twitter if you're interested in seeing me talk about my upcoming fanfics and talk about pedro pascal and oscar isaac. :-)

chapter 1 on tumblr // read fic on ao3

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The months went on and Whiskey showed no sign that he had gotten sick of the coffee shop - or more specifically, you - yet. 

Sure, there had been a few times where he’d gone almost a full week without visiting, but he always turned up one day with a smile and a more-than-generous tip. The two of you made light conversation while you worked the register or, during days you were behind the bar making drinks, after he’d gotten his coffee, leaning an arm on the bar so he could talk to you. Your co-workers, especially the ones you were actually friends with, teased you incredibly hard for it, always leaving your cheeks burning in embarrassment. One of the newest hires at the café, a very sweet girl named Angie, had asked during a slow morning shift how you and your boyfriend met. When met with your confusion, she’d simply replied, “That cute cowboy guy I’ve seen you with. He’s your boyfriend, right?” Your entire body was on fire as you told her that no , you were just friends , and then had spent a good five minutes in the walk-in cooler pretending to stock items while you recovered.

You had thought about making a move by asking if he’d like to get coffee from your favorite place that’s just outside of the city (you refuse to be one of those people who comes into their job to order something on their day off), but the one time you’d tried to ask him, he’d looked at you with those big, gorgeous brown eyes of his and you’d chickened out, instead sputtering something about how the weather outside was nice today. You’d called your best friend on Discord that night feeling absolutely miserable and they’d teased you gently, but reassured you it was okay and that the universe had its way of sorting everything out.

You had no idea how right they would be.

It was unusually busy for a random Thursday morning, but you were managing just fine (even if you were dragging a bit because you’d stayed up way too late last night starting to play The Last of Us now that the TV adaptation of it was coming out soon). And, because your luck happens to be absolutely terrible sometimes, a steady line of customers at the register had started in the minutes before Whiskey strolled in. You gave him a small smile and a wave while the customer in front of you finished paying for their coffee and he tipped his hat to you in response. After getting through the few customers ahead of him, Whiskey was in front of your register, grinning down at you. He had already reached into the pocket of the leather jacket he was wearing to grab his wallet.

“You know what, sugar,” Whiskey said. “I’m feelin’ like a latte today. Can ya make me that one ya always get for me?”

“Yeah, I can do that!” You looked to the people in line behind him and the smile slid off your face. “Actually… I know I always make it, but it’s busier than usual today and I don’t wanna throw off Aubrey by stepping in just to make one drink,” you said apologetically.

“Darlin’, it’s fine. Just promise you’ll be the one to make it for me next time.” He gave you a wink as he handed you a twenty to pay for his latte. Warmth spread through your whole body and you were grinning so big you knew you probably looked like an idiot to the half-dozen people who were behind your favorite customer. Whiskey stuffed the handful of bills you’d given him as his change into the tip-jar and shuffled out of the way. The customer behind Whiskey rattled off a couple of pastries he wanted and, out of the corner of your eye, you could see Whiskey talking to Aubrey at the bar. You don’t know why you suddenly felt anxious, but you did. Aubrey knew all about your crush with Whiskey – hell, she was the person teasing you the most about him – but you trusted her to keep your secret.

You put the two’s interaction out of your mind and went back to focusing on helping the people in front of you. While pouring a cup of coffee for a stern-looking businesswoman, you turned and saw Aubrey finally hand Whiskey his latte. Whiskey was about to walk away but you saw Aubrey lean in and say something, but you couldn’t make it out. He looked down at the cup and you watched as a slow smirk slid onto his face. Whiskey nodded his head toward your co-worker and he made his way out of the coffee shop.

The businesswoman you were pouring the coffee for snapped at you for taking too long and, immediately, you were brought back to what you were doing. You snapped the lid on her drink and apologized profusely while you cashed her out. 

A couple hours later, when it had finally died down enough that you weren’t swamped with people, you sauntered over to Aubrey, who was drinking her usual iced vanilla matcha latte and scrolling through Instagram.

“Hey, uh, what was that whole thing with Whiskey earlier?” you asked. Her eyes flicked up from her phone to yours before shooting back down to stare at her screen. You knew her. And right now, she was desperately trying not to look suspicious.

“Oh, nothing,” she said, trying to sound as innocent as possible. “May wanna check your phone though.”

You pulled your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans and clicked the button on the side to turn on your screen. A couple notifications from Twitter, a handful of new emails, an alert that your favorite podcast had posted a new episode… 

And a text message from an unknown number. 

You felt your heart stop as you hurriedly typed in your passcode to unlock your phone. There was no way. You were imagining this. Or today was all just one weird, very realistic dream and your alarm was going to go off any minute now. Opening the Messages app, you clicked on the message.

Today, 10:37AM Hey there sugar ;) Finally got your number.

Your pulse quickened. There was no mistaking whose number that was. There was no way. Unless this was some absolutely insane prank that Aubrey was currently pulling off with the help of your coworkers. But you didn’t think your coworkers were that cruel. So the only thing you were left with was that…

“Aubrey, you fucking did not give him my phone number ,” you hissed. She gave you a shit-eating grin and took a big sip from her matcha latte, slurping it way louder than necessary.

“Wrote your number on his cup. You can thank me later.”

Your eyes widened. “ Aubrey ."

“What?!” she said with mock offense. “Look, I know you’re too embarrassed about your little crush to actually do something yourself. If you get a date out of this, you owe me lunch for a week, bestie.” You groaned and covered your face with your hands. Honestly, with how chaotic Aubrey is, you shouldn’t be surprised in the slightest that this happened. But that doesn’t mean you were prepared for this to happen.

You decided to wait until after work to text Whiskey back, but the rest of your shift had been a blur. Even an inkling of an idea of what to say eluded you, even as you were walking through the door to your apartment. Pulling out your phone, you opened the Messages app and stared down at the two lines Whiskey had sent. You eventually just said “fuck it” and typed out a quick text.

Today, 3:43PM god i am so sorry for aubrey if you dont wanna message its totally cool i mean we barely know each other  and my coworker thought it’d funny to give you my number just don't wanna make things weird between us

You flopped back onto your bed and covered your face with your hands for the second time that day, wishing you could sink down into the earth. God, why were you cursed with being so fucking awkward?

Right as you were wishing you could go back in time and say literally anything else to come off as more smooth, your phone pinged with the notification sound of a new text. With slightly shaky hands, you unlocked your phone and stared at the message Whiskey had just sent you.

Today, 3:46PM Darlin, I’ve been wantin’ to get to know you more for a while now. You’re real sweet and funny. Comin’ to get coffee is the highlight of my week.

You stared at your phone, your eyes wide open. Holy shit. Before you even knew what you were doing, you started screaming into your pillow so as to not scare or disturb your neighbors. Your entire body was burning with warmth as you typed out a reply to him. 

Today, 3:54PM oh! im really flattered honestly i’ve wanted to talk more too just been too anxious to say anything

You stared at the screen for what felt like forever until you saw the three little dots inside of the bubble that told you Whiskey was in the process of typing something back. Your heart raced with what he could possibly say. Then, your phone pinged with a new message notification. His response was here.

Today, 3:58PM Oh, really now? Well, if you’d be interested, sugar, I’d like to invite you over for dinner. Could show you a good time. ;)

“Oh my god,” you breathed. You hurriedly typed out a response, too excited to speak, your heartbeat and your mind racing.

Today, 4:04PM consider myself very interested! give me a time and date and i’ll be there, cowboy ;)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You may have taken one or two wrong turns and gotten stuck in traffic along the way, but you finally made it to the address Whiskey had given you. 

The date he’d given you to come over for dinner was a few days away from when he had asked you and you couldn’t have been less anxious about it if you tried. Shifts at work seemed to go by even slower than usual and Aubrey could sense something was up when you worked with her the morning after your text conversation. You didn’t dare breathe a word about it to her, though, you didn’t wanna give her a big head about the whole thing. No, she could wait to find out until after your dinner with Whiskey, even though you have her to thank for this whole situation anyway. (Also, you definitely didn’t need her on your ass about buying her lunch for a week yet.)

As you drove down the path that your GPS was telling you to follow, you realized his house must be at the very end of the street he lived on. A few more minutes passed before your phone said you had arrived at your destination. Despite the map saying you should technically be in his front yard, you could barely see Whiskey’s house from behind a massive wrought-iron gate. A little silver box on a pole was sticking out of the side of the road, so you pulled up and pressed the small black button on the device.

“Hey, darlin’, that you?” you suddenly heard Whiskey’s voice ask. The buzzer must have a speaker in it somewhere. His voice was a little crackly, but you still could tell it was definitely Whiskey.

“Yeah! I’m outside the gate,” you called back. A loud buzzing sound came from the box and, suddenly, the large iron gate in front of you opened so you could drive through. Following the long gravel driveway, you finally made it up to Whiskey’s house.

And your breath was instantly taken away the moment you saw it up close. 

It was an absolutely gorgeous ranch-style home, one that you definitely would have seen on one of those TV shows about people showing off their fancy houses and the thousands of dollars they had poured into making their house look as fancy as possible to impress other fancy people. Whiskey’s car, a gorgeous classic Bronco that was black with white trim, was parked just up the driveway, so you pulled in a few feet behind him. Right as you were getting out of your car, you heard the front door open.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he called out. He was leaning up against the doorframe, a glass of amber liquid in his hand and a wide grin on his face. He was wearing his usual blue jeans and cowboy boots, but he had swapped his usual leather jacket for one that was made from dark blue denim and had a bit of a high collar. “Glad you found the place okay. Hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”

“I got a bit turned around a few times but I made it. Did have some reservations about you leading me out to the middle of nowhere, though,” you teased. Whiskey let out a chuckle as you approached him.

“Sugar, this is probably one of the safest places you could ever be,” he said with a smirk. “But I’m delighted that you’re here.” You felt yourself start blushing as Whiskey stepped aside to let you in. He closed the door behind you and, as you took in the living room around you, Whiskey fiddled with a security system panel on his wall.

The interior of the house was exactly what you had expected from Whiskey, if you were being honest. Brown leather couches and armchairs were circled around a massive stone fireplace in the living room. A large wooden coffee table, one that looked like it could have been handmade, was in the center of the room and on top of a Western-looking rug. The walls were also covered with paintings, one of a river in a forest with a mountain range in the background and one that you immediately recognized as the exterior of the Statesman Distillery. You could also catch a whiff of the delicious smell of roasting meat somewhere towards the back of the house. 

Whiskey muttered something about needing to check something and walked off, leaving you by yourself. You were a little hesitant at first, not wanting to look creepy or trying to pry, but you couldn’t help but look around.

As you looked around to take everything in, your eyes landed on a wall-mounted glass display case. 

Inside was what looked to be a whip with a loop at the end that had been tied to make a noose. When you stepped a bit closer to inspect it, you could have sworn you saw a flash of blue light somehow. You were staring at it when Whiskey cleared his throat behind you. You whipped around to face the older man and you instinctively took a couple steps backward as if you’d somehow been caught red-handed.

“That ol’ thing caught yer eye, sugar?” Whiskey said. His voice was quieter than usual, softer. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and came over to where you were standing. And all you could do was just look at his face. He had this look that you couldn’t quite decipher what it was supposed to mean as he stared at the whip. But if his stare was a laser, he would have cut through the glass and the wall behind it by now with how intently he was looking ahead of him.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Why the hell do you have a whip in a display case? Not that you can’t do what you’d like with your design choice, but it’s… certainly interesting.” You tried to sound light-hearted, attempting to diffuse this situation you didn’t know you had entered into, but Whiskey sighed deeply. 

“Don’t even know why I put this up. Hate looking at it most days,” he muttered. Suddenly, his head snapped to look at you, as if realizing he’d just said that out loud. He spun on his heel and walked back toward the kitchen. “Well, dinner’s almost ready, so you can head on in here. Got everythin’ all set up for tonight.”

You watched him turn the corner and head down the hall, frozen in place until you realized you should follow him. You quickly followed after him and you were suddenly in the biggest kitchen you’d ever been inside of. There was a giant kitchen island in the middle of the room with a built-in sink and a dark marble countertop. You could see two steaks cooking in an iron skillet on the stove to your left and Whiskey was in the process of pulling what looked to be some roasted vegetables in a pan out of the oven.

“Everything smells amazing, Whiskey,” you complimented as you took a seat on one of the barstools that was at the kitchen island. “Didn’t realize you were hiding a knack for cooking from me.”

Whiskey let out a loud laugh. “Oh, darlin’, I’m sorry to disappoint, but I can’t cook worth a lick,” he replied. “Favorite steakhouse on the other side of the county helped me out. The owner’s real friendly and was willin’ to sell me a steak dinner for two that I could finish in my own kitchen. Will have to take you there sometime.” He tossed a wink your way while he fiddled with the stove and you felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest.

After a few more minutes, Whiskey announced the food was ready and he escorted you into the dining room where a table big enough for the two of you to sit at and intimately enjoy dinner was set up. The meal Whiskey had got for the two of you was absolutely delicious and your mouth was already watering at the prospect of being able to eat it again, but this time in the actual restaurant itself. The two of you talked about your day at work and Whiskey even told you a couple stories from his days as a bartender. He had you laughing so hard your sides hurt at the time he had a guy who tried to pay for his tab with his prized chicken.

Whiskey brought out a plate that contained a massive slice of triple chocolate cake for dessert and, despite you insisting you couldn’t eat another bite, you dug your fork into the giant confection and almost moaned at how rich and amazing it tasted. About halfway through the cake slice, you leaned back in your chair to look Whiskey in his eyes.

“Whiskey, this was incredible, thank you so much for having me over,” you said with a smile. The older man smiled back and gently reached out to hold your hand in his. He hesitated for a second, as if he was worried that you didn’t want the touch, but when you scooted your hand a little closer, he laced his fingers with yours. It was the first time he’d touched you all evening and it made the butterflies in your stomach go wild.

“Real glad you decided to take a chance on an old guy like me,” he replied. “I… I’d been wanting to ask you out for a while now. Was worried how it’d look, what you’d think of me.” 

You squeezed his hand gently, feeling emboldened by his confession. “I, uh, actually thought about asking you to come to my favorite coffee shop with me. The place I go to when I want coffee on my days off,” you said bashfully. “But I… I chickened out at the last minute.”

“Darlin’, I’d go anywhere you asked me to,” Whiskey stated. “Say the word and I’m there.” If you weren’t currently holding hands with him, you felt like you might collapse right then and there. He would have taken you out with his words alone.

“O-Oh.” That was all you managed to get out. You were sure he could see how hard you were blushing. Whiskey let go of your hand and made his way into the kitchen with your plates from dinner. You stood and followed after him.

You watched as Whiskey set the plates in the sink before he turned back to you and walked over to where you were standing in the middle of his kitchen. His large hands settled on your hips, making your heart beat faster. Whiskey’s lips connected with yours in a passionate kiss.

The scratch of the stubble of his chin felt rough against your skin, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. After months, you were finally kissing the man you’d been pining after for so long. Whiskey let out a soft noise as your hands came to rest on his chest, bunching the fabric of his jean jacket in your hands.

“God, baby, you’re incredible, so gorgeous,” Whiskey groaned after pulling back from your kiss. When his mouth returned to yours, his tongue licked into your mouth and it felt so good, it was threatening to make your head spin. In between kisses that had you desperately needing more as soon as possible, he started to guide you towards the back of his house. Whiskey opened a door and you both entered the main bedroom of the property. It was a massive room with an extra-large bed and a door off to the side that was open just wide enough for you to see that it was the primary bathroom. 

The older man pulled back from your intense make-out session to look at you. His large hands were settled on your waist, rubbing the material of your shirt softly. “Please, sugar, tell me you want this as much as I do,” Whiskey said through slightly-grit teeth. “You’ve been runnin’ ‘round my head for weeks an’... I’ve been a patient man, but you bein’ here in my house is doin’ somethin’ wicked to me.”

“I do, I really do, Whiskey,” you replied with a grin. “I want you.” You leaned in to kiss him again, but his eyes drifted downward as he opened his mouth and it made you stop your advance.

“It’s… It’s Jack,” he muttered, turning his face away, suddenly interested in the carpet floor of his bedroom. It took you a couple seconds for your brain to process what he said. You gently cupped his face in your palms, the stubble on his jaw tickling your skin, but the touch made him look back at you. You met his eyes and you could see a little anxiousness hidden behind them.

“Jack…” you repeated. A wide grin broke out on your face as you breathed out his name again. “Jack.” His name fell from your lips and the man in front of you immediately softened. You watched the nervous expression, the tension of letting you know his name, not the moniker he was given during his time with Statesman, bleed out of his body. 

You pressed a kiss to his lips before you pulled back to look up at him. “Jack. Want you to fuck me. Been dreaming about it for so long now… Please .”

As if you’d flipped a switch inside of him, Whiskey – no, Jack – picked you up, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist. You let out a little squeak before you were gently laid down onto the bed and now, Jack was on top of you, kissing you like his life depended on it. He licked into your mouth again and you moaned against him. Jack’s hips grinded down against your clothed core. God, you could feel he was rock-hard under his jeans and you were dying to rip them off of him. You’d thought about this situation before, sure, but nothing from your wet dreams and fantasies could compare to how hot it was to actually be in the moment.

Suddenly, Jack was pulling away from you and stripping off his clothes, you following suit and pulling off your outfit only to toss it all across the room. You were a little self-conscious about his response to seeing you naked, but watching his eyes grow wider and his cock twitch the smallest bit made you feel invincible.

“Absolutely breath-taking, darlin’,” he murmured. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your chest. “Scoot up the bed more fer me, baby, wanna eat you like you’re the last meal I’ll ever have.” You burned at his words and you could only nod dumbly and pull yourself back toward the headboard. After getting settled, Jack pressed soft kisses up your thighs until he had reached where you both wanted him to be the most. He started off with teasing licks that made you feel like you were going to explode right then and there. His tongue gently flicked over your clit and you responded by fisting your hands tightly in the bedsheets, eyes squeezed shut as soft noises fell from your lips that you couldn’t back any longer

“Please, Jack,” you whined. “More. I need more.” You weren’t a stranger to sex, but the very limited encounters with your past partners were currently being blown out of the water. No one had ever made you feel like this before, so close to cumming in practically a minute flat.

“As you wish, sugar,” you heard him say with a chuckle. A kiss was pressed to the skin of your thigh before, true to his word, Jack ate you like a man starved. He licked long stripes up your pussy before digging into your clit with his mouth and his tongue that had you seeing stars. You looked down at Jack and you swore you got closer to orgasm just by seeing how his eyes were closed and his big hands were pushing your legs further apart so you couldn’t clamp down on his head.

“F-Fuck, gonna cum, fucking Christ,” you moaned loudly, head tilting up to the ceiling. You felt one of his hands disappear from its spot on your leg and then you felt a thick finger slip inside of you. The whine you let out was long and high-pitched and the instant a second finger was inserted to curl and prod at your g-spot, you came, cursing loudly and crying his name.

Before your brain could even think of something to say or a way to articulate how amazing that was, Whiskey was kissing you again. The taste of yourself on your lips was so incredibly hot.

“Never tasted anything so good in my life, sweet thing,” Jack said. He leaned down to lap at one of your nipples as he tweaked the other gently in between his fingers, making the stiff bud harden even more than it already was, and all you could do was lay there and whine Jack's name at the attention. You really thought he was trying to kill you with how much worship he was giving your body. He pulled off of you to press a kiss to where your heart would be before he looked back into your eyes.

“Now, gorgeous, we can go as far as you feel comfortable,” he said. “If you don’ wanna do anything else tonight, that’s okay with me. Ya can get me off or I can go take care of myself if you’d like, I just wanted to make you feel good.” You felt the butterflies in your stomach kick into overdrive again. Honestly, you really wanted Jack to fuck you, but you were still somewhat reeling from how hard he’d just made you cum with only his mouth and his fingers (that and you were more than a bit anxious about going all the way with him yet). But there was one thing you’d fantasized about several times…

“I… Ireallywannasuckyourdick,” you spat out. After saying it, you covered your face with your hands. You couldn’t believe you’d just said that. You heard Jack chuckle before you felt him gently take your hands and move them away from your face.

“Baby, I’d love nothin’ more,” he assured you. He leaned back and bared himself to you. For a moment, you could only stare at his cock and try not to drool at how hot he looked like this. His cock was hard and curled up toward his stomach with pre-come was spilling out of it slowly, dripping onto his torso. You settled yourself between his legs and licked an exploratory stripe up the vein running down his cock. Jack let out a loud groan and it only egged you on further. You took the tip into his mouth and lapped at the beads of pre-come that had spilled out. The salty taste of him was heavenly and, despite your earlier assumption that you might not be able to cum again soon, you felt ready to go all over again.

When you finally bobbed your head down, you thought Jack couldn’t moan any louder. You managed to fit all of him inside of your warm, wet mouth, the curly brown hairs at the base of his cock tickling you a little. You stayed down for a couple more seconds before it got to be too much and you had to pull off to cough slightly.

“Fuck, sugar, look so good with your mouth so full of my cock like that,” he groaned. Jack threaded his fingers in your hair and gently nudged you back toward his cock. “Gonna burn that image into my brain.” His words had you needing to reach down to gently touch yourself and you did so as you started to move your mouth up and down his cock again.

“S-Shit,” Jack hissed. You set a steady pace, fast enough to keep up with your need to finger yourself while you sucked Jack off, and it felt like all too soon, Whiskey was tugging on your hair just enough to make your body tingle in pleasure. “G-Gonna cum, sweet thing, make sure you take it all, so wonderful, that’s it, my good darlin’ .”

And that was all it took. His praise was what sent you over the edge.

You found yourself clenching around nothing as your finger frantically rubbed circles on your clit, humming around Jack’s cock as you came. Jack pushed your mouth down the smallest bit to fully sheath himself in your mouth and then you felt the hot burst of cum splash onto your tongue and down your throat. His fingers released their grip on your hair and you pulled off, swallowing as you did so. Jack gave you a wicked smirk at seeing you swallow his cum, but in an instant, he was cupping your face in his hands and making you look at him.

“I am so sorry I forced your head down like that, sugar,” he apologized. “Did I hurt you? I-I didn’t mean to, I swear, it’s just…” You cut him off before he could say anything else.

“It’s alright, Jack, I enjoyed it,” you replied. Your voice was the slightest bit hoarse, but you couldn’t care less. That was the single hottest thing you’d ever experienced in your life.

Whiskey gave you a kiss to your forehead before he got up off the bed, stretching a little as he did so, and walked into the bathroom. You let out a deep, contented sigh as you flopped down and buried your face into the soft pillow behind you. You felt like if you tried to get out of bed at the moment, you couldn’t. Your entire body felt exhausted, well-fucked, still drunk off of Whiskey’s cock that had been in your mouth mere minutes ago.

“Sweetheart, c’mon, move a li’l bit fer me,” he muttered. His Southern accent seemed even more pronounced than usual, which you thought was cute. “Gotta clean you up. Make sure my sugar’s taken care of.” You shifted from your current position to make it easier for Whiskey to wipe you down. The warm washcloth felt nice on your skin, getting the stickiness of your sweat off of you. Whiskey also pressed the cloth between your legs for a brief second and you felt your body get a small burst of warmth. Honestly, you were so worn out, you didn’t think you could be ready for another round if you tried, but that didn’t stop your body from trying.

Whiskey sat the washcloth down on the nightstand next to the bed and laid down, tugging you into his arms gently. You snuggled into him and you felt like you could fall asleep just like this. However, you did have one question for him.

“So… your name is Jack?” you asked after a few minutes of silence into the skin of his broad chest. Whiskey pulled his head back from where it had nestled on the top of your head to look at you with a smirk on his face.

“Would ya believe me if I told you my name was Jack Daniels?” he shot back. A loud laugh bubbled out of your lips. 

“Absolutely not ,” you laughed. Whiskey shared a laugh with you before he leaned in and gave you a long kiss to your lips. Your hand drifted up the soft skin of his back – the soft skin you had probably just scratched up even with your blunt fingernails – and threaded in the hair on the nape of his neck. Kissing Whiskey in this moment was tender and affectionate and you would give anything to stay like this forever. Curled up in his arms, you felt like you could take on anything.

“Well, it’s not the name I was given when I was born,” he started after he pulled back. His voice was low now, like he was sharing a secret. “Changed my name to it when I was a younger man. So, legally speaking, I’m Jack Daniels.” You blinked at him a couple of times.

“You changed your name?” you questioned. “How come?” Your fingers were still running through the hair on the back of his neck and at the question, you felt him tense up a little. Worried, you’d pried too much – despite currently being naked in his bed – you started to do damage control. Your fingers stilled and tightened, probably almost tugging at his hair. “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

Before you could babble anything else, Jack pressed another kiss to your lips but it was short and chaste. It had you melting all over again. “Darlin’, it’s alright,” he soothed. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your temple. “Gonna tell you everything one day. All ‘bout my past. You’re real special to me an’ you deserve to hear it from me before someone from back then finds out about you an’ tries to tell you.” His hot breath ghosted across your skin as he spoke to you, making your body shiver. 

You weren’t exactly sure what he meant, however. But you realized very quickly into your friendship that Whiskey never really spoke about his life, preferring to change topics over actually giving you an answer to something. You had a couple snippets of comments he’d let slip while in conversation at the café, but it wasn’t much. He’d mentioned that he used to work for Statesman Distillery (then again, his belt buckle had practically given that away the day you met), still had connections to them now that he was “retired”, and occasionally did work for them. He’d also mentioned once that, at one point, he was married a long time ago but he was divorced (you’ll never forget the way he looked incredibly uncomfortable when you’d asked about it before you changed the subject, something Whiskey had been thankful for). Sure, you knew about his hobbies and his favorite movie and other things of that nature, but other than that, Whiskey was a closed book.

Suddenly, you realized you’d been off in your own head thinking instead of saying anything back. Your eyes finally focused back on Jack and you could see that he looked ready to bolt at any second. Instead of prodding for more, you kissed the tip of his nose. “Hey, it’s okay,” you reassured him. “You can tell me more about you when you’re ready. It makes me worry about you, sure, but I still trust you.”

Whiskey gave you a soft smile and his grip around you got tighter. You looked up at him just in time to see his eyes slide shut and his breathing turn steady. You weren’t sure where this left your relationship with Whiskey, but you figured you two would talk about that in the morning. For now, you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the scent and the touch of your cowboy.

[stormchaser819]

💕Positivity prime time! Share five things you love about yourself, four things you're excited about, OR three people you care deeply about and why. Pass this along to someone whose posts make you smile💕

Aaaw! I'm so happy you like my posts!

Four things I'm excited about?

First of all, I'm so excited about the new episode of Rings of Power coming out on Thursday. I'm on the edge of my seat wondering what's happening next.

I'm also excited about eating at my favorite burger place tomorrow. I don't eat out very much so it's awesome when I get to.

I'm excited about the cooler weather coming up. Right now it's in the 90s and I need my hoodie weather!

Finally, I'm excited about remodeling my room once I move. I'm going to color block it and I'm so excited!

Thanks so much for the ask!

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

here to stay (Rhett Abbott x OC)

Summary: Rhett catches one of Tessa's boys doing something he shouldn't and he decides to step in.

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x OC (Tessa Abernathy)

Word Count: 3112

Warnings: supporting oc characters, an attempted theft but nothing serious, skipping school, rhett being so in love already

TWO | THREE | FOUR

✎……likes are great but comments/reblogs are even better!

✎……ty @newlibrary for looking this over for me

✎……masterlist on pinned

The sun was bright and beautiful that Thursday morning, the Wyoming sky stretched in infinite blue. As Rhett drove into town, he could see the mountains far off in the distance — high peaks topped with snow. It was probably one of the last warm days before the weather finally turned completely into autumn. The winds picking up across the plains and the forests turned to brilliant shades of orange, yellow, and red.

But as he passed the sign by the side of the road that officially welcomed him into the city of Wabang, his gaslight came on.

He knew it would happen, it was one of the reasons he drove into town in the first place. That and using the internet cafe to sign up for the next rodeo that was passing through. 

No matter how much he and Perry begged, there was no way their dad was getting home internet installed at the ranch. The man still didn’t even have a cellphone, and just installing a cable dish was like pulling teeth. No matter how much Rhett and Perry tried to bring the ranch into the 21st Century, Royal Abbott liked things the old fashioned way.

Some days, Rhett thought he was just determined to run their ranch, and by some extension their family, into the ground.

The gas station was empty, considering the hour. All the farmers and ranch hands were still out in the fields, kids were still in school and parents at work. And no one was ever passing through Wabang. It was just another stop on a road to nothing. So Rhett had his choice of pumps as he pulled into the lot.

After making his choice, closest to the Smart Mart, he went inside to pay.

“Hey, Rhett, how’s it goin’, kid?” Mr. Myers greeted as the bell above the door chimed. 

“Hey.” Rhett threw up a hand to the old man behind the register, then he gestured back at the coolers lining the wall. “Gonna grab a drink real quick.” 

Mr. Myers nodded, and Rhett turned down one of the aisles. Trying not to get distracted by the Slim Jims or the pork rinds lining the shelves. 

Or the teenage boy lurking around the candy. Rhett checked his phone — it was only one o’clock. No way the kid was out of school yet. The boy glanced up at Rhett as he passed him by. Scrawny, backpack slung over his shoulders, dark hair, brown eyes large and full of suspicion locked on him until Rhett looked away first. And that’s when it hit him. 

He recognized that kid — he was one of Tessa’s boys. 

One of the few he met when they ran into each other a few weeks back. He was picking up something from the bank and she was taking a few of the boys out shopping for new shoes. They only stopped to talk for a minute, two teenagers lingering behind her back and throwing him dirty looks. 

But that kid had definitely been with her. 

Rhett grabbed an energy drink from the cooler. And he looked back just in time to see the kid snatch a candy bar from the shelf and stick it in his jacket pocket. Rhett looked back up into the boy’s face, only to be met with an unreadable brown eyed stare. Again, Rhett looked away first.

He didn’t exactly know what he should do. Eyes locked on the floor and fingers tapping against the cold can in his hand as he made his way back towards the register. Clearly the kid was skipping school and he just stole something. But was that really any of Rhett’s business? It sure as hell wouldn’t have been before. And he wasn’t entirely sure if it was his connection to Tessa, whatever it may be, that made him feel like he should do something in the first place. No. It was the fact that he could see himself in that kid.

All that anger. All that apathy. All that wondering what the hell the point was when he was going nowhere fast. 

In some ways he still felt all of that. But he was old enough now to realize what he needed back then. What might have helped him become a better man. Someone to encourage him. Someone to be gentle with their sense. Someone to tell him that everything was going to be okay.

And if in that moment he was it for that kid — who was he to just turn a blind eye?

When he made it up to the register, Mr. Myers wasn’t looking at him with the usual smile hidden by his thick white mustache. Instead, his bushy eyebrows were furrowed low over his eyes as he looked at something off to Rhett’s left. He had a pretty good guess as to what it could be. Rhett set down his drink, pulled his wallet from his back pocket to pay for it and the gas. 

“Hold on, Rhett,” Mr. Myers grumbled. 

Then the old man rounded the corner with a shout. Rhett turned, and Mr. Myers had the boy by the arm — his other hand buried in the kid’s jacket pocket. 

“Ah-ha!” Mr. Myers exclaimed as he held up the candybar. “Try to steal from me you little —  “

Rhett didn’t even realize he had anything to say, that he was going to step in, until his mouth was already open and words were coming out: “He’s with me, Trip. I’m payin’.” 

Mr. Myers shot him an unbelieving look, then glanced down at the kid one more time — who just glared right back before ripping his arm out of the older man’s grasp. Mr. Myers kept the candy and brought it back around behind the counter so Rhett could pay. Out of the corner of his eye, as he said which pump and how much money he would like to pay, Rhett made sure the boy stayed put. And he did. Hands in his pockets as he stared down at the floor, shifting from one foot to the other anxiously. 

“Have a good one,” Mr. Myers spoke warily as he glanced at the boy one last time. 

But Rhett paid him no mind as he took the drink and the candy and walked out the door. The kid trailing after him at a distance. And Rhett didn’t look back as he walked over to his truck, trying to think of how the hell he was going to handle this now that he was in it. 

“Hey!” the kid called out from behind him. “Gimme back my candy, asshole!” 

Rhett tucked the bar of chocolate into the breast pocket of his flannel, drink set in the bed of his truck, as he undid the gas cap. “Pretty sure it’s mine now — paid for it.” 

“And I stole it fair and square!” the boy replied, stood near the tailgate with his chin raised. 

“You got caught fair and square,” Rhett laughed back, inserting the nozzle and beginning to pump the diesel. 

“Whatever,” he grumbled back, “Can I have it back?”

“Ya could at least say thank you for savin’ your ass.”

“You didn’t save my ass.” 

“Yeah, I did.” Rhett replaced the nozzle and closed the gascap. “Trip caught ya. If it weren’t for me, he woulda figured out where ya live and he woulda called Tess — “

The kid stood a bit straighter, his chin dropping for the first time. “You know Tess?”

“Yep. Don’t think she’ll be too happy when she hears ya ditched school,” Rhett said, grabbing his drink and leaning his forearms across the side of his truck. 

“You don’t know she’ll find out.” 

“No, I don’t. But…She seems like the type to always find out eventually.”

The kid looked down completely and Rhett knew he was right. The corner of Rhett’s mouth ticked up in a smile as he took a steading breath. His heart pounded in his chest. He had no idea what he was doing, what words were going to come out of his mouth next. He just hoped they were helpful and maybe they were kind. 

“What’s your name, kid?” Rhett asked quietly. 

“Wyatt,” he replied, new shoe scraping against the pavement. “Wyatt Beeman.” 

“Come on, I’ll take ya home — if ya want.” Rhett nodded his head towards the cab of the truck. 

He didn’t look back as he opened the driver’s side door and climbed inside. It was entirely Wyatt’s choice. Rhett knew he was a stranger to him, and he didn’t want to force him into doing something he was uncomfortable with. He would understand if the kid just walked away. He slammed his door shut with a sigh, drink nestled in a cup holder and keys in the ignition. For a moment, he thought this was the end of it. He half expected to look in his rearview mirror and see Wyatt walking away. But he was pleasantly surprised when the passenger door opened and a navy blue backpack got thrown inside — followed by Wyatt himself. 

Grinning softly, Rhett started the truck as Wyatt closed the door behind him. And as he drove out of the lot towards the Boy’s Home, Rhett took the candy bar out of his pocket and tossed it into Wyatt’s lap.

Tessa was up on a ladder on the porch when Rhett pulled up in front of the Boy’s Home. A pair of bolt cutters squeezed between her straining arms as she tried to break the remaining chain keeping the porch swing attached to the ceiling. At the sound of his truck door creaking shut, she looked over with a grin. 

But it instantly fell when she saw who else was getting out of his truck.

“Is it too late to drive around the block one more time?” Wyatt mumbled as Rhett moved to stand at his side.

“Yep,” Rhett responded on a sigh as he clapped the young boy on the shoulder and urged him up the sidewalk. 

A grin ticked up one corner of Rhett’s mouth as he watched Tessa climb down the ladder — bolt cutters held firmly in her grasp. She didn’t look mad, if anything she looked concerned. And if Rhett had any guess, that was a foreign concept to Wyatt. Someone being concerned about his well being and his whys rather than just being mad and disappointed that he did something wrong.

She left the tool by the front door and wiped her hands off on her jeans as the boys slowly made their way up the porch steps. 

Rhett thought she looked pretty. Even in her old jeans and button up tucked into the waist — kerchief keeping back her hair. Even if she wasn’t wearing a dress like the last time he saw her a week ago. When he bought her a thank you drink and she slipped away from him to go hangout with her friends with a lingering kiss on his cheek. When he left without getting his flannel back and he didn’t even care. When he went to sleep that night with his thoughts continuously wandering back to the feeling of her skin beneath his hand and the look in her eyes when he nearly kissed her — when she wanted him to kiss her. 

God, how he wanted to kiss her. How he wanted to know her in every way. How he wanted to live in her spring and smiles and warm laughter until Death came to take him. 

“Skippin’ school, again?” Tessa questioned, hands on her hips, when the pair finally made it onto the poured concrete porch. “You know you’re gonna have to talk to Linda, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Wyatt sighed, gaze focused on her shoes. 

Tessa gestured for him to leave Rhett’s side and come under her arm. And Wyatt went willingly, head hanging. Rhett watched as she smoothed her hand over the back of his head of dark hair, all touches and looks gentle and understanding. 

Then she looked up at Rhett. “Thanks for bringin’im home. Um, if you don’t mind, could you come inside and explain what happened?”

“Yeah, yeah — I can do that,” Rhett answered, reaching up to pluck his stetson off his head and push back his hair. 

She smiled up at him thankfully before she turned, Wyatt still under her arm, and pushed open the front door. Rhett had only ever seen the inside of the Amelia County Boy’s Home from over her shoulder. It was nicer than he expected it to be. The front door opened into a long entry hallway with closed doors on the left and open entryways on the right that stretched back until it reached a set of stairs that went up to a landing, then curved back towards the door to whatever was on the second floor. The wood floors creaked beneath his booted feet and needed a good polishing. But there was a hall tree where he could hang his hat and a piano and a bookcase filled to the brim and then some. It was all very homey, dated, but homey. 

A heavyset woman with dark hair and glasses came out into the hall from the entryway near the stairs. She raised a brow when she saw Wyatt with Tessa, but then both of them shot up her forehead at the sight of Rhett Abbott closing the door behind him. 

But she chose to ignore him and focused her beady eyes back on Wyatt. “Truant again are we?”

“Yes,” Wyatt sighed, Tessa squeezing his shoulder. 

“Let’s go have a talk then,” Linda said, a bit more on the stern side but still kind. “In the living room — come on.” 

Wyatt sighed again, head thrown back as he sluggishly marched into the open doorway immediately to their right. Rhett glanced inside to see a few couches, an armchair, and a tv st into an old wood cabinet.

Tessa watched the boy under her care go with a small smile and a furrowed brow, hands shoved into her back pockets. Then she seemed to come to herself and looked up at Rhett. 

“Here, we can chat in the kitchen.”

She led him down the hall and into the doorway Linda came out of. It immediately spilled into the other end of the living room, where Wyatt was now sitting on the couch with his arms crossed. But with a sharp left turn and through another doorway, they were walking through the dining room. There was a huge cabinet with glass inlaid doors filled with china — the plates and little cups rattled ominously with every step they took. Rhett wondered if there was something wrong with the foundation of the house. Another doorway at the other end of the dining room, and they were in a brightly lit kitchen with a spacious breakfast nook — windows all around and a bowl of fruit on the counter. 

“D’you wanna drink or somethin’? We’ve got water or lemonade,” Tessa said as she rounded the kitchen counter, already taking a glass down from a cabinet.

“Uh — yeah. I-I’ll take a water.” Rhett glanced at the round wooden table, unsure if he should sit.

“Thanks again — for bringin’ him back here,” she said as she filled one glass with water and another with lemonade.

He smiled in his small way. “‘Course.” 

“Where’d you find’im?”

“Um, Trip Myers’ gas station.”

“He try to steal somethin’?” she asked as she came back around the counter, a glass in each hand. 

Rhett swallowed, thinking back to the conversation he had with Wyatt in his truck. Then he finally muttered with a shrug, “Nah.” 

He went on to explain the whole series of events, leaving out the part where Wyatt got caught trying to steal a candy bar and Rhett stepped in. Instead Rhett said that he bought him the chocolate of his own volition. He promised the kid he wouldn’t tell her about it, and he wasn’t a man to go back on his word. The whole time he spoke, he kept his eyes focused on her jean clad knees and the way they nearly brushed his own as they sat angled towards each other. All the while something bubbled and brewed in the back of his mind like a teapot on the verge of singing. 

He had some inkling as to what it could be. He was pretty sure it had been there since that night at the Handsome Gambler. Only now he didn’t have dim lighting and booze to make him feel more confident. It was daytime, he was sitting in her kitchen, and he was just Rhett Abbott. A cowboy who brought bare to nothing to the table and didn’t really feel like he deserved someone like her. 

But who was also too selfish to let her go so easily. 

They finished their drinks and he thanked her for her hospitality. Then she led him back out into the entry hall and to the front door, going so far as to come out onto the front porch with him. 

“Gotta get back to work on getting rid of this old thing before it gets too cold,” she said as she shut the door and picked up the bolt cutters again. “S’shame, I love porch swings.” 

Rhett didn’t even realize he was going to say anything until his mouth was already open and words were coming out: “D’you wanna go on a date — sometime?”

There it was. The teapot was singing. It overflowed onto the stove with a sizzle and some steam. With Tess staring up at him wide eyed and the bolt cutters limp in her hand. 

“What?” she questioned. 

“Uh — “ Rhett smiled, shifted on his feet as he finally gained the confidence to look her in the eye. “I think you’re one hell’uv’a woman — and I’d like to take ya on a date…If ya want.” 

He watched, relief flooding his lungs in a huff, as the biggest grin he had ever seen stretched her features. Her blue eyes crinkled at the corners, her cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink as a soft giggle poured out of her. She put a hand over her mouth to cover it up, looking away from him for a moment, and he wished she wouldn’t. But it made him laugh too as he nervously adjusted his hat. 

Then she took a steadying breath and said, “I actually have tomorrow night off. Would you wanna…Do somethin’ then?” 

“Yeah. I’ll uh, pick you up at six?”

“I’d like that.” 

They exchanged numbers and said their goodbyes. And Rhett walked back to his truck feeling lighter than he had in his entire life.

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[cryptidsurveys]

Thursday, September 12th, 2024.

Are you “with” the very last person you kissed? I'm not in a relationship with anyone.

Ever dated/kissed a someone with the name Casey, Tyler, Ryan, Jordan, Colton, Rebecca, Samantha, Lauren, Taylor, or Ashley? No.

Was your last kiss, standing up, sitting down, or lying down? I actually don't remember my very last kiss.

Are you happy with the choices you’ve made? I'm not thrilled with many of the choices I've made in life, but I'm a lot happier with the choices I've been making over the last year or so. They haven't been perfect, but things seem to be moving in the right direction.

Are you excited for anything? The 21st (y'all probably know why by now, so no explanation is necessary). The Chili Festival. Autumnal foods. Upcoming trips to the Mountain Park, especially now that the leaves are starting to change. Cooler weather. Halloween/Thanksgiving vibes. Meeting up with my mom for lunch this afternoon.

Do you hate the last person you kissed? No.

You’re stuck in an elevator with one of your worst enemies, what do you do? I don't really have any enemies, but as for the person I dislike most…I'd be extremely annoyed, but I don't think I would say or do anything that wasn't related to getting out of the elevator.

Will this weekend be a good one? Saturday is iffy. It should be "okay" as long as I stay focused on the positives. Sunday should be alright. I'll be working with River and Kristen, so no issues there at least.

Are you mad at someone right now? It's like a mixture of anger and anxiety.

Do you like to listen to the radio in the car? Yeah. I pretty much always listen to classical music when I'm in the car.

Do you sleep with a fan on? Sometimes we'll leave the swamp cooler on through a portion of the night, but I don't use any fans.

How is your hair right now? Buzzed and short and currently covered by a beanie.

Have you ever broken up with someone for someone else? Yeah. One instance was silly and impulsive, and I ended up getting back together with the first person. Another instance involved breaking things off with someone new because I still wasn't over my ex and was probably hung up on the slim-to-nonexistent chance that things would work out.

How many windows are open on your computer? One window, five tabs (two for Tumblr, two for YouTube, and an online Notepad where I take these surveys).

How tall are you? About 5'3".

Is something bothering you? Yeah, but hopefully it will pass. I just have to get through the next week-ish.

Have you ever taken a shower with anyone before? I have.

Have you ever laughed at something that wasn’t meant to be funny? Plenty of times. I have a rather morbid, irreverent sense of humor.

Have you ever told someone of the opposite sex “Fuck you”? Yeah.

Do you like to cuddle? Very much.

Have you done anything sneaky lately? Yeah.

Is your hair clean? I took a shower yesterday morning, so it's not filthy.

Last night, did you go to sleep smiling? No, but I did drift off while enjoying Essential Salt's latest podcast.

Were you happy when you woke up today? I was anxious, but also looking forward to grocery shopping. I bought some fall goodies to try.

What are you drinking right now? Coffee.

Do you wear your seatbelt in the car? Yeah.

Does someone have feelings for you? No.

Have you ever been cheated on? Yeah.

Are you hard to please? Naw. I think I'm pretty easy to please. I'm relatively low-maintenance and small things can make me very happy.

What are you craving right now? Relief from overthinking. I'll be pleasantly distracted for a moment, but then the worries will creep back in, along with a racing heartbeat and a knot in my stomach.

How are you feeling right now? A whole mess of emotions I don't feel like untangling.

What are you sick of? Alex. One would think her fast-approaching exit date would make it easier on me and that I'd be on cloud nine with anticipation, but if anything it's made me less tolerant.

Are you missing anyone/something? Cats who have passed away, backpacking memories with my dad, the way I used to feel about volunteering (I still love it as a whole and have no plans to quit, but these past few weeks have been overshadowed by anxiety, anger, and dread).

Relationship to the last person you called? The last person I called was my mom.

Could you date someone shorter than you? Yeah.

Is there anybody you just wish would fall of the planet? Or simply leave my sphere of influence.

Do you wear glasses? Pretty much only when I'm driving or when I need to see a menu up on a board.

Where did you sleep last night? In my own bed.

Do you straighten your hair? No. My hair is naturally straight.

What color shirt are you wearing? I'm wearing a black t-shirt, a slate gray/blue long-sleeved shirt, and a pine green sweater.

Do you have a best friend? Ollie.

Do you wish you had the chance to go back in time and change something now? Yes and no. Yes because I wish I had handled things differently, but no because staying silent wasn't the answer either. I'm just going to have to let the chips fall where they may and come up with a better approach in the future.

Who is the last person you got a text from? My mom.

Are you excited for winter? Yesss, but I want to focus on enjoying autumn first.

When are you at your happiest? When I'm around the people I love and when I'm doing something I love.

Is there anything you wish you did today? Why haven’t you done it? Today has barely started, but some things on my to-do list include making art, washing some bed stuff, and vacuuming my room.

Do you prefer to spend your time indoors or outdoors? Indoors for the most part, but I like getting outside as well.

What were you doing before you started this survey? I put away the groceries and made breakfast.

Can you honestly say that you love yourself? Not fully, but a lot more than I used to. Recognizing even a portion of my worth has led to some interesting developments…

Do you think you spend too much time feeling upset? Lately, yes. I'm just like DUDE you really need to let this go before it consumes you and makes you do something stupid and regrettable. It feels like all of my old behavior patterns are bubbling right below the surface, but I'm trying my damnedest to choose a different path.

Is there anyone you would seriously punch right now if you had the chance? No.

Do you own a pair of uggs? I don't.

What are your plans for tomorrow? I'll be at the animal shelter for a full day.

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Free Day Thursday

Meddling Mar part 10!

1, 2-3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

Things were quiet, and even a bit tense between the boys for the rest of the afternoon. Mar was sulking, and Jak was brooding again. Daxter wished his arms were long enough to smack them both upside the head at the same time. If he'd ever had doubts that Mar was Jak’s childhood self, he certainly didn't now. Hopping between beds to keep Mar entertained and check on Jak’s mental state was exhausting when your legs were the approximate length of a four year old's.

As afternoon passed into evening, Daxter noticed that Jak grew more restless. He didn't leave their alcove -- none of them felt like interacting with the two or three men recovering from broken limbs and gunshot wounds in the rest of the ward -- but he paced between the beds often, stopping only to stand on the mattress and peer out the window at the sea. Daxter knew why: someone was supposed to bring them to the Spike King for "evaluation" sometime after sunset. And they'd already had more than their fair share of older folk scrutinizing them to determine their worth.

Daxter bounced up onto Jak’s bed and launched to his shoulder from there. For a moment he said nothing, simply watching the ocean with his best friend. Memories of chasing seagulls and digging for clams washed over him, and Daxter found himself longing to run through the waves.

"Do we have a plan, Jak?" he asked eventually, "What do we think about this place?"

Jak shrugged moodily. "We'll see if they can back up their talk with action. If we don't like it...I dunno. I don't know where we can go, Dax. What options do we really have?"

He leaned on the sill and pushed one hand through the small gap between a sliding screen and the frame. Fingers grasped at open air, feeling the sunlight beating down. Jak inhaled salty air and let it out slowly.

"It's quiet here," he whispered.

Daxter knew what he meant. They hadn’t heard shouting, or megaphones, or gunfire even once since waking in the ward. That had been a daily -- almost hourly -- occurrence in Haven for the last two years. Daxter wanted to interpret that as a good thing. A nice, quiet, place on the coast where maybe they could relax for once. He wouldn't even be afraid of the heat next to this much ocean. Maybe it could even be like home, if he squinted.

Daxter slipped down from Jak's shoulder and dropped to the flattened pillow.

"Okay, so, say we stick around. What's our plan for survival? Look for work like in Haven?"

Jak sighed and pulled his hand back inside the window. "I guess we should figure out whether they use the same currency as Haven. Then again, I don't think a crumpled ration card will get us far even if they did."

He ran a hand through his hair and grimaced at the uneven length. Honestly, that was Petros's fault for leaving him unsupervised with a knife and matted hair. It was lighter, and cooler, certainly. But the random longer parts were driving him crazy. They brushed against his neck just so when he turned his head, and the skin there was beginning to get hypersensitive to it.

"So...maybe if the weather is good I can dive for artifacts to trade," Jak suggested, "Like we did when we were kids."

"Pal. We're still kids," Daxter retorted.

Jak scoffed. "Only according to these people."

He slid down the wall to collapse onto the pillow beside Daxter, and dropped a hand around the ottsel's shoulders.

"I'm...glad you're here, Dax."

Daxter dug an elbow into his side. "Told you I'd never ditch you again."

It was another hour before a stern looking old woman came to take them upstairs. She looked ancient, sunworn skin hardened practically to leather and bone-white hair hanging down her back in an iron-studded braid. The plait alone looked like a weapon.

With a disapproving squint, she beckoned them to follow her.

"Alright infants, evaluation time," she barked. Then she twisted her lips to one side, as if the words tasted funny. "Evaluation! Pah! Straight to a nursery, that's where you should be going. Look at you: not even old enough to earn a battle amulet!"

The old woman bore down on them like an omen of death. "Who left you out there, eh? Ought to be trussed up and left in Turquoise Canyon for the metalpedes, they should."

"Eep!"

Mar made a sound of alarm and ducked behind Jak, hiding from the wizened woman's piercing stare.

Jak shrugged. "They've got metalheads of their own to deal with," he scoffed.

"Yeah! Only they can't send us to do all their fighting for them anymore!" Daxter added.

He could admit to a little spiteful satisfaction at that.

Jak’s grimace didn't suggest that he felt the same way. While Daxter had learned at an early age to push back against every insult, every unfair blame laid on his young shoulders, Jak had just internalized it. He probably thought it would be his fault if people died in Haven while he wasn't there.

I oughta teach Jak the concept of sleeping in the bed you made...

The scary lady -- Ranger Priya, she told them to call her -- marched them up a winding spiral staircase with the energy of the hummerbird in the patch sewed onto the back of her vest. Daxter gave up walking and let Jak carry him after only twelve steps. Mar would have complained about the pace, but in order to keep from falling behind, he'd had to latch onto Jak’s hand.

"Lady," Jak groaned, "My brother has short legs. Can you slow it down before he yanks my arm out of its socket?"

"You call me Ranger, squirt. Not lady," Priya corrected him, "You think I wear the hummer for decoration?"

Jak blinked. "I...don't know?"

Priya turned around and stared at him as though she couldn't tell whether or not he was being serious. Then she raised her thick eyebrows.

"You really have been gone too long," she muttered enigmatically.

"Uh...what?" Daxter blinked slowly. "You wanna run that by us again?"

"Keep up!"

Groaning, the boys stumbled and scrambled their way up what felt like a mile of stairs behind the ranger. Her pace was relentless, and Jak could grudgingly admit that he was impressed. She reminded him of Uncle Erasmus with that energy.

I wonder how far he's gotten by now? Jak found himself wondering as Priya stopped at a deceptively simple door cut into a metal wall. Poor guy absolutely sucked as a guardian, but at least he never ordered us around.

"Huh. Can't tell if he's in there yet or not." Priya squinted through the door and shrugged.

"Shouldn't matter one way or the other. Alright, toddlers, this is your stop."

She stood back and jerked a thumb towards the open door. "Go play. Just don't break anything you can't fix or blame on somebody else. Damas will be along sooner or later."

Jak bristled at the condescension. Go play? Did he look like he played?

Mar let go of his hand and abandoned him in an instant. He darted into the room with a gasp of delight, and Jak came to the belated realization that Ranger Priya hadn't been condescending, she'd been speaking literally.

The entire room had been constructed to look like an indoor oasis, lined with small date palms and tomango plants leading down to three or four tiered streams that seemed to feed into each other in an endless current.

Jak had barely made it two steps in before Mar had discarded his shoes and jumped into the nearest pool of water. Daxter launched from his shoulder seconds later, scrambling to join their little brother.

"Last one in's a rotten egg!" Daxter hollered. He pinched his nose and made an impressive splash.

With a huff, Jak rolled his eyes and pulled off the flat, cloth shoes the monks made them wear in the ward. He sat down on one of the many boulders surrounding the water and dipped his feet into the gentle current. It was cool, but not cold -- a bit surprising, considering the heat.

"If you guys want to sleep in wet clothes, on a wet bed, with wet sheets, be my guest," Jak drawled. He leaned back on his hands. "I'll stay up here, thanks."

"Boo!" Mar jeered.

"Spoilsport!" Daxter added.

"Just for that, you can walk back down all those stairs yourself," Jak retorted.

Dramatically, Daxter flopped backwards, barely giving Mar enough time to catch him in an impromptu trust fall.

"Oh, such cruelty!" Daxter gasped, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. "You abandon us? You abandon your poor little brothers to suffer the cruel cruel stairs alone?!"

Unimpressed, Jak pointed out, "Dax, you're older than me."

"But my legs are shorter! O have pity!" Daxter slid from Mar's arms to land in the pool with a wet plop.

"You killed him!" Mar feigned outrage. "Jail for big brother! Jail for a hundred years!"

"A hundred years?" A new voice interrupted, "That seems a little excessive."

Damas strolled casually across the stepping stones leading from the right half of the chamber, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Surely ninety would suffice?"

Jak groaned. "Don't encourage them, they just get worse!"

Then he blinked.

"Wait, how did you know what he said?"

The Wastelander king came to a stop close to where Jak sat and raised a brow. "You expected me not to understand him?"

All three boys glanced at each other briefly, the same confusion evident on all three faces. Mar tossed a whisper to Jak-

"I thought Uncle E said you made our language up?"

"That's what he and Samos always said-?"

Damas snorted and raised his own hands.

"You are using the national language of Spargus. Whoever "Uncle E" and "S Leaf" are, they clearly are not Spargan."

He was using their language.

It wasn't the signing Onin used, the one the Havenites seemed to think was the only sign language. It wasn’t some variation of theirs. The man was using their signs.

Shaken, Jak drew his feet up out of the water and stood. Damas was still taller by a good several inches, but it made him feel at least a little more in control of his situation to be looking the man in the eye.

"What do you mean national language?" he demanded, folding his arms across his chest, "Why would we know a language from a city we've never been to?"

Damas studied him before answering with an uncomfortable, considering gaze.

"Well that's the question, isn't it?" he said quietly.

There was a weight to the king’s words that settled heavily on the boys, stilling even Mar's fidgeting.

When Damas lowered himself to sit cross-legged on one of the stepping stones, they found themselves following suit -- with a bit more effort on Mar's part to hoist himself and Daxter onto another stepping stone.

"I understand you've been through some...trying...circumstances," Damas said, "but nonetheless I expect you to answer me as honestly as you are able. Maintaining privacy is one thing, but understand that I do not tolerate lies."

Jak’s fingers tightened, stiffened into claws against his upper arms. The linen strips they'd wrapped around his old needle scars wrinkled and twisted, and his stomach seemed to twist in answer. It was bad enough that someone had seen the scars. If Damas asked about them-

Shame prickled in Jak’s chest.

No. Nobody needed to know. Especially not Mar.

"Fine," Jak bit out, "But what I say depends on the question. He doesn't need to hear everything."

He jerked his head in Mar’s direction meaningfully.

He couldn't tell if it irritated him or relieved him that Damas accepted this with no more than a nod.

"Very well. Then we will begin with questions of a less personal nature."

Damas steepled his fingers in front of him.

"So. We have Jak, "It's A Secret", and Daxter, ages roughly sixteen, eight-ish, and...unknown. No papers, no guardians, no known reason to be out in the Strider Range alone."

"Sixteen?" Jak interrupted, scowling, "I'm older than sixteen!"

By how much, he wasn't certain, but he wasn't going to say that he'd lost track of time in prison. That would give Mar too many questions to ask.

"Not by much, according to your bone scans," Damas replied calmly. "Seventeen at the oldest."

Well. That was a bit unfortunate. Maybe that explained why he had such a hard time growing facial hair, though? Or maybe he was doomed to just never have a full beard, like Mal the Sculptor back in Sandover.

Jak made a face.

"Only seventeen at the oldest?" he groaned.

"Could've been worse, I guess."

Then he pointed to Daxter.

"He's nineteen. Dax is human. He just looks like an animal."

There was a small but significant flicker of mischief in Jak that enjoyed the absolutely dumbfounded expression on Damas’s face.

"All...right...that's..." Damas blinked, shook his head, and blinked again. "I'm going to...move past that for now."

He cleared his throat.

"Where are your parents?"

Daxter's eyes widened, and he made a slashing motion across his throat, trying to indicate to the king that this was not a welcome topic of discussion. Too late.

Jak’s eyes darkened, and Mar scowled and looked away.

"Don't know," Jak said shortly, "Never met them."

Narrowing his eyes, Damas glanced from Jak to Mar and back again. "You never met your own parents. But you would have been old enough to remember when Seek was born?"

Mar shrugged angrily. "Loghead said he wasn't s'posed to remember I existed."

It was all Damas could do to refrain from pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off an impending headache.

These kids were going to make a lot of paperwork for the monks, he could already tell.

[jow99]

I passed 🎉🥂

Wednesday morning was cooler so again we had to think about what to wear. Jose spoke to his Mum and Ang but Mum and I were having tech problems. In a week today the Mums will be here 😆

Wednesday is Spanish day and today Jose was the only teacher at our morning Spanish session. He was great and I think the participants are sorry we’ll now be away for the next two weeks.

After class we headed over to our storage to get our warmer weather cycling gear 😜 then home for lunch.

Today I received an email to tell me I had passed my Cultural exam😆 One step closer but the hardest is yet to come 😳

This afternoon I had my one on one Spanish class. Afterwards we had a celebratory sangria by the beach and tonight we had a bottle of cava with dinner. It’s one small step but we need to celebrate as getting ready for the language exam is quite stressful.

On a lighter note I cracked Jose up the other day. “Return” in Spanish is “volver”. To try and help myself remember I thought revolver as in a revolving door (not the gun). Unfortunately I forget it was a reminder and wrote revolvemos which means revolving so I had us spinning not returning 🙄

Thursday there was definitely a chillier wind. Again deliberations over what we were going to wear to cycle in. Marjolein is laid low with hay fever, poor duck, so Jose decided to ride with me.

The Volta Catalunya starts on Monday. The climb we did today and the one we did Sunday and Els Angels are all in the first stage 🫢 Makes me feel like a total woose.

Today’s climb I haven’t done since 2019 and it was tougher than I remembered. You could see they were setting up for Monday and we saw a couple of pro riders obviously scouting the course. We also suspected some of the cars were too though they didn’t have any signage.

It was a nice ride but the wind was picking up as we headed home. We’d had coffee at Monells on the way out and had planned to stop at Yari’s on the way home, but I was worried about the wind picking up more so we headed straight back to L’Escala. At that stage the wind was already quite uncomfortable but I wasn’t quite at meltdown stage.

Back in L’Escala, given we’d only eaten our bars along the way we treated ourselves to lunch at the beach. We were sheltered from the wind and it was sunny so very nice.

A quiet afternoon at home getting stuff done and of course some Spanish study. Late afternoon we walked into town and picked up a couple of bits and pieces before settling in at home for the evening.

[vro0m]

vro0m’s rewatch - 158/310

2015 Hungarian GP

I have a weird feeling about this one because it has much more views than the others on all the websites I've checked… anyway somehow I do have the prerace content this time so that's cool.

It's round 10, so it's mid-season.

Oh. Right. That's the first race after Jules' death, 9 months after his accident. The BBC team aired a tribute at some point but I don't have it. They say on Thursday loads of drivers told them about him and their relationship to him. All the cars are sporting some sort of tribute, hashtags or messages and there will be a minute of silence before the race.

Quali report. Jenson didn't make it out of Q1 for the 8th time this year. An electronic issue fucked up Alonso's quali in Q2. He tried pushing his own car back to the pits but the marshals eventually came to help and that announced the end of his runs. Ricciardo equaled his best quali this year with 4th, Kvyat is 7th. Ferrari struggled in the FPs but Seb finally found his balance and landed 3rd, Raikkonen being 5th. But of course, it's another Mercedes front row. Lewis is on pole after what is described as one of the best laps of his career. He's half a second ahead of Nico. He says it's a great feeling to have such a gap to your team-mate but it's the race that matters.

So the top 10 lines up as such : Lewis, Nico, Seb, Daniel, Raikkonen, Valtteri, Kvyat, Massa, Verstappen and Grosjean.

The Hungaroring is one of Lewis' lucky tracks. He's really good on it. 

There's a segment about Seb and so far we don't know who will be his team-mate next year. He says he likes Raikkonen as there's no bullshit with him. According to the journalist, other names on the table might be Valtteri and Daniel. 

The weather is a big topic. Apparently it was extremely hot during quali but it's now overcast and significantly cooler. The wind also changed direction from the day before. I think it rained earlier in the day as a journalist mentions "another rainshower" not far away from the track, that a weatherman has said shouldn't hit them during the race. 

It's the minute of silence. All the drivers gather and set their helmets on the ground in a circle and they themselves form a circle around them, holding each other by the shoulders or the waist, with Jules' family.

Someone who I guess is his brother set his helmet down with the others. Then the anthem begins but they stay there. Afterwards, a lot of the drivers hug his family, Alonso not the least. 

Formation lap 

And they're racing? Ah nope they're not. Delayed start, they're going for another formation lap. They were all able to leave the grid so we're unsure what that was. Oh Massa was out of position, that's why. It's under investigation.

Anyway, this time, they're racing! 

Oh jesus fucking christ Lewis has an okay start but Seb is unbelievably fast and he's wheel to wheel with him straight away! Then it's the two Mercs and the two Ferraris wheel to wheel into the first corner and I'm pretty sure the order goes Seb, Nico, Raikkonen, Lewis. Seb is in the lead indeed. Behind him it's indeed Nico wheel to wheel with Raikkonen… And it's now a ferrari 1-2! Lewis is down in P4. How did this happen damn. NO LEWIS NO FUCK HE'S IN THE GRASS AND THEN IN THE GRAVEL WHAT'S WRONG? He rejoins but he lost so many places… He's P10!!! "Nico crossed over my line there, pushed me wide." Did he? Can we get a replay? Seb sets the fastest lap. Seb sets another fastest lap. Massa gets a 5 second penalty for the start. Here's the replay. Mmmh. No. Not Nico's fault. Lewis tried to squeeze in a non-existent space, that's all. Kvyat is told to not hold up Daniel who's behind him. Seb is still setting fastest lap after fastest lap. 

It's lap 10. Seb, Raikkonen, Nico, Valtteri, Daniel overtakes Hulkenberg for P5, Kvyat is P7, Perez P8, and Lewis overtakes Massa for P9, with a slight touch of the rear tyres, very close, very fair little fight between these two. He instantly materialises behind Perez. Caught him in absolutely no time. Ross, Nico's engineer, starts on the radio : "Unless we can close the gap to Raikkonen–" He's interrupted by Nico, as often. "Don't tell me again. Don't tell me again, I'm trying." Now it's Max, animated : "I'm really getting held up now." Lewis overtakes a not very defensive Perez for P8. All of a sudden it's pit stop time. Massa, followed by three (?) other cars, comes in. Yes, we have Grosjean and Verstappen. Lewis is P6, as Hulkenberg pits and I guess someone else must have done so just before, then. "You're very quiet, Bono," he says. "Okay, copy that Lewis," Bono answers. "So everything's happening now so just push as hard as you can." Wait, he's actually P5? Pit stops are so confusing. Right, we have Alonso, Sainz, Hulkenberg in the pits right now. DC says Lewis is doing the same times as Seb now. Yeah he actually sets the fastest lap! Raikkonen complains he lost some parts of his front wing. That's weird. The team says they can't see anything so it must have been a small part but he says it was a big part. And indeed. It's a big part. It just didn't come from the front wing itself : it was one of his cameras. And the slow mo replay cuts directly to a contact between someone and Perez, who's sent off track facing the wrong way! He turns it around in a big cloud of white smoke and joins back. The other car involved was Maldonado's. 

It's lap 20. Oh. Lewis pitted. 4.1?! Too long. He's out wheel to wheel with Valtteri! And he imposes himself in P5. Nico pits. Oh. So Lewis is now on softs, while Nico is on hards. Mmh. So let's see. Ah. I was about to recap the order but Seb comes in as well. Let's wait then. Lewis sets the fastest lap. Daniel also pitted. I think everybody did except Raikkonen who's currently in the lead. Here he comes. Okay let's recap this time. Seb back in the lead, followed by Raikkonen, Nico, Daniel, currently attacked by Lewis, Valtteri, Hulkenberg, Kvyat, Verstappen and Alonso. Lewis goes veeeery wide, but then catches up to Daniel again. "I'm so close," he says. "Can I have one more lap [of high engine performance], Bono?" – "Affirm." And it was worth it, he's up in P4. 

That puts us on lap 30. Raikkonen is 7.3 behind Seb, Nico did not at all close the gap to them, he's 11.8 seconds down, and Lewis has to make up for 15 seconds to catch him. Then it's obviously Daniel, Valtteri, Hulkenberg, Kvyat, Verstappen closing in on him and Alonso. Lewis is setting fastest laps again. He's gaining very quickly on Nico, shaving 6 seconds in 5 laps. The second round of stops has started. "Lewis will be going to the prime (aka the medium) tyre, possibly earlier than you," Ross tells Nico. "I'll go to the prime as well then," he answers. "Erm, Nico at the moment the pit wall are not inclined to do that." Why would he want the medium, the softs are faster? Lewis will be at a disadvantage on the harder tyres in his last stint. Anyway, on the transcript I see they keep insisting he needs to pick up the pace. (Honestly what is up with him that season? He's doing so bad compared to 2014 and well. To 2016 even though I haven't watched it yet. He's just nowhere to be seen, it's weird. Is he tired from the 2014 fight still, some way or another? What's that about?) 

On lap 40, Raikkonen is 9.7 seconds down on Seb, Nico 17 seconds further, and Lewis just 6 seconds away now, and that's with him losing time in the previous lap due to traffic. It went down to 5 seconds at some point. Oh. Raikkonen says he's losing the power. He's really losing time. OH NO THAT'S A BIG CRASH! Hulkenberg just hit the barriers head-on! There was a lot of smoke coming from behind his car but thankfully the huge tyre marks behind him show he was able to brake as much as he could before the shock. Virtual safety car. He's moving and getting out of his car. Nico pits. Lewis pits. It's slower because they had to avoid an unsafe release with all the traffic in the pitlane… But it's fine because of the VSC. In case you don't know, it means they can't overtake or close the gaps so nothing changes. Seb pits. Raikkonen pits. The safety car comes out now. Oh we get a replay of Hulkenberg's crash : it's a front wing failure. It shattered under his car. That's a lot of debris indeed. The safety car will go through the pit lane due to the amount of debris on the track.

Well well well. That makes things interesting for Lewis doesn't it? On top of it, the three cars ahead of him are actually on the same tyres as he is, the mediums. 

Tony Ross to Nico : "There is a chance that we can win this, we think there is a chance we can win this. Kimi has a power unit problem, we should be able to pass him pretty quickly. We also know that Ferrari have a warm-up problem and a pace problem on the [medium] tyre." The issue, however, is that behind Lewis is Daniel, on softs. The lapped cars are released. On the transcript I read that Bono indeed warns Lewis of Daniel, and also explains that Raikkonen has an issue. In the broadcast we only hear the last part of his message : "We are racing for the win, mate." I'm so tense!!! (I also see he asked "How’s Sebastian’s pace been today?") 

Safety car in this lap. Seb backs them up… 

Here we go! 

Daniel gets a good restart indeed and Lewis is under pressure immediately. Nico attacks Raikkonen and as the engineers said it's an easy pass indeed. LEWIS AND DANIEL TOUCHED! Daniel is going wide, Lewis has damage and Daniel gets ahead while Valtteri joins the fight. I don't think this has a good ending, my friends… Kvyat overtakes Valtteri and Lewis is off track. Kvyat overtakes him. Valtteri overtakes him. He's falling back… But Valtteri now has an issue and he's falling back much faster. It's a puncture. Lewis is about to pit. 

On the replay we see he locked up on the apex and that's why he touched Daniel. Valtteri's puncture comes from a light contact with Verstappen's front wing. It's lap 50. Daniel overtakes Raikkonen for P3. Nico is only one second behind Seb. Lewis is P6, but he hasn't pitted yet. Here it comes. Oh god… P13… And the incident is under investigation… Raikkonen pits and retires…? Uhh… They did something to the car and now it's just sitting there in the box in silence with all the mechanics immobile around it. They did reset it or something? They pick the car back up off the ground and do something again. He does leave. He's P17. Nico is only half a second behind Seb now. German on German crime to come. Oh. Lewis is given a drive through penalty. That seems quite severe, I thought it'd be a time penalty. He won't score points, will he? Nico will take the WDC lead… Fuck. Bono tells him they have a drive through and will serve it this lap. "Okay," he says. The main journalist says "no argument interestingly". DC says he's a "fair racer" and knows it's correct. 

Ah but wait now. Nico is again 1 second behind Seb, while Daniel is 0.7 behind him. Interesting… As a reminder, first place awards you 25 points, second place 18, third place 15. Lewis' WDC advantage is currently 17 points. Max gets a drive through for speeding while the SC was out. Raikkonen retires. 

"I'm so sorry guys, really sorry," Lewis says. But of course Bono's having none of it. "Don't stress about it Lewis, 20 seconds away from some points, so let's go get them." And guess fucking what? He sets the fastest lap. Come on! 

It's lap 60, 10 laps to go. Seb is 0.9 in the lead, Nico is 0.4 ahead of Daniel, Kvyat is 3 seconds further and then it's Verstappen, Alonso, Grosjean, Jenson is P8, Ericsson in P9, and Sainz in P10. Lewis is P12, just 1 second behind him, actually. The points really aren't that far. And as we saw, the WDC is close enough that it matters. Maldonado is under investigation and I think it's like, the third or fourth time this race, and he's already served 2 drive throughs. And Sainz is retiring his car! That puts Lewis even closer to the points. I hope Bono is literally chanting in his ear. Let's go let's go let's go! Here you go! P10! P9! P8! That's four points, next stop Grosjean, 5 seconds away. OH AND DANIEL LOCKS UP AS HE ATTACKS NICO AND THEY TOUCHED, HE LOSES PART OF HIS FRONT WING. Lewis is under investigation for track limits and gaining an advantage?! OH WAIT WAIT DANIEL IS STILL AHEAD BECAUSE NICO HAS A PUNCTURE!!! So much drama?! Lewis sets the fastest lap! Fucking hell how is this going to end up?

5 laps to go! Daniel is in the pits getting a new nose and new tyres. Might as well. Here comes Nico. It's quick. Daniel is still P3 but Nico… Well Nico is several cars behind Lewis! I can't believe it. Kvyat gets a 10 seconds time penalty for leaving the track and gaining an advantage. He's currently P3 and I don't think it changes anything. Ohhh that was actually. OK. So when I said Lewis was under investigation earlier it was actually Kvyat for an action ON Lewis. I didn't get that right. Lewis is attacking Grosjean. 

3 laps to go. DC thinks he's careful because of Grosjean's history, he says. The incident between Daniel and Nico is under investigation. Daniel sets the fastest lap. Lewis overtakes Grosjean for P6. Maldonado gets a third penalty this race for overtaking while the SC was deployed. Daniel sets another fastest lap. Verstappen is currently P4, his best result so far. 

Final lap. No further action for the Nico-Daniel collision. 

And it's the end of the race!

Seb wins, ahead of Kvyat and Daniel. Lewis is P6. He keeps the WDC lead and even increases it. 

Well listen. It's not the podium I was hoping for but Seb is standing on his car waving a ferrari flag while Kvyat and Daniel are hugging in the background and it's all unexpected and wholesome so why not. Once in a while. We enjoy surprises. 

In the cool down room, Seb is emotional, Daniel can barely contain himself, and Kvyat looks stunned. 

Seb dedicated his victory to Jules, saying they all know he would have been part of their team. In French he says, "cette victoire, c'est pour Jules." Kvyat and Daniel also say a word about him. 

After the race, Lewis was handed 2 penalty points for his collision with Daniel which is. A lot. Grosjean also got 2 for an unsafe release, bringing his total to 6. Maldonado got 2 points for his accident with Perez which also brought him to a total 6, all earned within 2 months. In the Valtteri-Verstappen accident (did I even mention it? I can't remember. I'm writing this a day after I've watched the race.) the stewards concluded Verstappen "took reasonable actions to avoid contact" but still gave him 3 penalty points for speeding behind the safety car, bringing his total to 5. 

I've found Lewis' BBC and NBC post race interviews.

In the BBC one, he arrives sighing.

The journalist says he was in front, at the back, all over the place and asks what was going through his head during that race. He says "exactly that, I was all over the place." he chuckles softly. He says he doesn't really have words to explain what happened. He says it was a really bad performance from him, he made lots of mistakes. He says he doesn't know if it was a lack of concentration or something else. He kept trying and never gave up but there were so many obstacles along the way… He felt like he had to choose between two directions and made the wrong choice every time. There's a lot to learn from today. The journalist says even then, he managed to extend his advantage in the WDC to 21 points. He shakes his head as he listens and then says "today was incredibly bizarre." He's wondering whether he deserves the points. He looks down and shakes his head again.

He says he got the points "by the grace of God". He says he needs to come back stronger after the break. (You got, like, one bad race in half a season, it's okay.) She asks how important it is for him to shut down F1 during the break and get some time to himself. He sighs heavily.

He says it's easier to do when you've had a good weekend but this was one of his worst performances in a long long time. "I guess it just shows that we're all still humans," he smiles. (Lol why? Did you think you'd transcended to deity level, my love?) She says "and also that there might be a bit of luck involved in this championship once again." He agrees hesitantly, saying he generally tries not to rely on luck, just hard work. He says the team worked hard, he did everything he could, although he was "wobbly" in the race, but he regained his stability. 

Let's see if he said something different to Will Buxton, who asks him about the start and first lap. He looks down. He says he doesn't really remember, "it was such a turbulent race", and a really bad day. He sighs. He again credits the "grace of God" for him getting through and getting points. Buxton says the strategy seemed to have worked very well. (Nico goes by behind him looking really weird.)

Lewis says he did everything he could to get back into the fight and then the restart after the safety car, he "ran out of grip", he just shakes his head. He says he really doesn't have much to say except he couldn't really avoid it at the time, and fortunately he didn't take any other driver out. Buxton says it was exciting to watch from the trackside but he guess not so from inside the car. He hums. He says it hurts when you make mistakes that affect the team, but what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. 

Now I also have the skysports interview. He says the start wasn't that tricky, the Ferraris obviously got a good start and uhhh– "yeah what a day, jeez… That was a…" he chuckles. "That was a hard afternoon."

She says given how difficult it's been he must be fairly relieved he didn't finish out of the points or with a DNF, particularly given what happened to Nico as well. In terms of the world championship, she adds as he looks slightly confused. He says to be honest he hasn't even thought about it yet so he doesn't feel particularly relieved. He just thinks he had a bad day in the office. A very bad day in the office. But he's grateful for the work of the team that at least allowed him to get some points. She says we've heard him say sorry to the team, what specifically did he regret. "Uh… The race."

"The whole race? You take full blame for it?"

"Yep." He doesn't elaborate. She says he can have a nice break at least. He sighs and says he's looking forward to it with an uncomfortable chuckle. 

We also hear from Niki. He congratulates Ferrari on their perfect starts. He thinks their team made a mistake on that because both cars didn't get off the way they should. Lewis was super aggressive, "too aggressive". And in the end the Ricciardo incident was a race incident because nobody did anything. Ferrari was the best, the result from Mercedes is not good, but that's normal. Ted says not a complete catastrophe either, the results are tight but it's not so bad. Niki says it's normal racing life for him. What they've had last year was a surprise. This is normal racing and they have to react to these problems and keep fighting. 

Ted says Toto being a gentleman he'll surely forgive Ferrari for their celebration on an emotional weekend (unsure what he's referring to). Toto says with a smirk he first has to get over his crappy day, and then he'll give his congratulations to Ferrari. They deserved it, sensational start, they had the pace. He thinks they've had more incidents in one race than throughout the whole season. They knew this day would come. He says they didn't start well, they were compromised with their pace on Nico's car and Lewis and Nico had issues on lap one and so they were on the back foot. They tried to calm the situation down but it didn't help that there was a VSC at the wrong time. And Lewis made a mistake with Ricciardo and then there was a questionable incident between Ricciardo and Nico. But all in all an exciting race for the fans and a bad one for them. Ted asks what he thinks was questionable. Does he not think maybe Nico misjudged and moved across too quickly? He says from what he's seen it was more Ricciardo's mistake but Charlie decided it wasn't. So that's it.

That's it for today! 

[survey--s]

572.

Created by chasingghosts

Do you ever get groceries delivered to your house? Yeah, we get a delivery every Thursday.

What was the last job interview you went to where you didn't get the job? Do you think the interview went well or not? I’ve never failed a job interview - every job I’ve interviewed for I’ve been successful, thankfully. Now I run my own business so I don’t really need to worry about that kind of thing.

Are you the kind of person who can wake up with one alarm or do you need several? One alarm is plenty - I can never fall back asleep once my alarm has gone off, no matter how tired I am.

What's your favourite pasta shape? Fusili.

What position is your body in right now? Sitting, laying, standing? I’m sitting on the sofa with my legs out in front of me on the recliner bit.

Do you have any plans for the upcoming weekend? It’s Saturday and I’ve just started an eight day house-sit. So today I got up, walked the dogs, popped home to shower and see my husband and animals, then back here and I have no real plans for the rest of the day as it’s pouring rain and tomorrow will be the same.

What's one of the saddest movies you've ever seen? The Road.

Has a movie ever made you cry? God, loads of times lol. If I’m on my period I’ll cry at anything ha.

If you have a pet, where are they right now? My own pets are all at home, but I’m currently house-sitting for two dogs and a cat. Bailey (dog) is asleep next to me, Poppy (dog) is asleep on the other sofa and Benny (cat) is asleep under the table.

What's the last dessert you ate? I had a blueberry muffin for lunch if that counts?

Do you experience deja vu often? Not really.

Are there any rooms in your house that you don't go into every day? Yeah, the spare room.

Did you own many videos or DVDs when you were a kid? No. We never had a video player and even into my teens I only owned a handful of DVD’s. My parents (dad especially) were really anti-screen time. Ironically he now spends most of his retirement on a laptop or watching TV lol.

What was the last physical pain you experienced? Back ache.

Have you ever fed an animal at the zoo? Which ones? Yeah, multiple times. Off the top of my head, I’ve fed jaguars, elephants, rhinos, giraffes, penguins, squirrel monkeys, lemurs, birds of prey (eagles, owls, hawks) and the usual farm animals - goats, sheep, horses etc.

Do you use Fahrenheit or Celsius? Do you know both or just one? Celsius. I don’t automatically know the equivalent in fahrenheit, no.

Can you do a handstand? When was the last time you tried? Only underwater. I haven’t done one since we were in Lanzarote though.

Do people misunderstand you? Not really.

What year will you/did you turn 30? In 2019.

Have you ever worked or lived in a high rise building? No.

Who are some of your favourite actors? Johnny Depp, Meryl Streep, Emily Blunt, Anne Hathaway, Amanda Seyfried, Benedict Cumberbatch, Ian McKellan, Maggie Smith.

Do you hate it when musical artists make music for way too long and kinda ruin the legacy they'd originally built for themselves? No.

Is there anything that's been bothering you emotionally lately? Not really, no.

What was the last store you shopped at? Tesco.

What time did you wake up today? Was that earlier or later than usual? Way too early - 5.45am lol. I didn’t really get up properly until 8am though. 

Have you ever been to a parade? What for? Yeah, just local carnival type things.

When you exercise, do you do anything to entertain yourself like listen to music or watch TV? Sometimes I listen to music.

Do you ever read other people's survey answers? I read the answers of the person I copy the survey off, but I don’t really seek out other people just to read their answers.

What app on your phone do you use the most? Probably TikTok or Reddit.

Does your current city differ from your hometown in terms of weather? Yeah, it’s much wetter and cooler up here. But we have much more interesting nature and we’re by the sea which is perfect for me.

Have you ever been engaged? Yes, twice.

What can you hear right now? My own typing and the TV.

Do you know anyone who is terminally ill? Not as far as I’m aware.

What was your first best friend's name and where did you meet them? Are you still in touch with them? Lucy. We went to Kindergarten together but we’ve not spoken since we left primary school even though we actually ended up at the same university.

What's your favourite fruit? Raspberries, honeydew melon, pineapple, strawberries.

Do you have nice views from your house? Nope, but there are some incredible views nearby.

What was the last album you listened to? I honestly can’t remember.

How often do you get paid? I work for myself - most people pay me weekly on a Friday, but a few pay me monthly in advance. Either is fine as long as I get paid lol.

Do you own any cool or interesting mugs? No, not really.

If you had to start a university course next week, what do you think you'd like to study? Canine Behaviour/body language.

[singingintheshower48]

Drabble Challenge Day 3/30

Me? Upload 2 days in a row?? Shocking. Read the first two drabble prompts and find the prompt list here.

Prompt: Eating ice cream

Wangxian, Modern AU, genderswap, 1191 words, T

It was hot and sticky again. It’d been hot and sticky all week, and Wei Ying was, quite frankly, very fucking over it. As was her usual during the late-summer heatwave, she’d taken to staying inside, sans pants, fan on full blast, and groaning in discomfort. She hadn’t even made it to the couch today, instead splaying out on the marginally cooler laminate of her living room floor. Summer was the worst. 

A knock on her front door interrupted her wallowing, and she managed to get out a garbled half-grunt, half-question in response, lifting her head up to squint toward the door. The sound of a key turning in the lock followed shortly after, and she thumped her head back down, satisfied that whoever it was probably wasn’t a crazed serial killer if they had a key. 

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan’s low voice floated over to her. She perked her head up again, shuffling up to her elbows with a groan to better take in the view of Lan Zhan closing the door behind her, her tiny shorts riding up as she slipped off her shoes, the long, pale lines of her legs somehow seeming even longer in the flowy floral material of her shorts. If Wei Ying had any moisture left in her body she’d be drooling. She shook her head to clear it–this was very against her no inappropriate thoughts about my best friend rule–focusing enough through the humidity hanging in the air to register the reason for Lan Zhan’s unexpected appearance. 

“Zhan-Zhan,” she greeted, her speech half slurred. “‘S it Thursday? I can’t keep track of what day it is.”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan hummed in agreement, gliding to the kitchen and holding up the plastic bag she’d brought with her to their weekly, totally platonic and not at all sexual tension filled best friend date night. “I brought ice cream.”

“You’re my hero,” she groaned, finally finding the strength to peel her body off the living room floor and stand up. Lan Zhan’s eyes flashed briefly down to her lower half before flicking back up to her face, not saying anything as she dug through Wei Ying’s kitchen to find her ice cream scoop and bowls, blessedly used to Wei Ying’s intolerance for clothing during the summer months. She shuffled to the kitchen, leaning against the counter next to Lan Zhan and bumping their shoulders together as Lan Zhan spooned two pristine scoops of java chip into each bowl. “Seriously, Lan Zhan, what would I do without you?”

“Fall asleep on your living room floor without dinner, probably.” 

Wei Ying snorted, bumping her shoulder into Lan Zhan’s again before stepping back to open the silverware drawer. 

“You have me there,” she admitted, handing a spoon to Lan Zhan before getting one for herself. Lan Zhan hummed in acknowledgement, leaving Wei Ying to shove a heaping spoon of ice cream into her mouth while breaking another rule–no staring at my best friend’s beautiful face like a weirdo–before she could catch herself. Up close, the heat of the day was evident on Lan Zhan. Wisps of hair stuck to her temples where they had escaped her top knot, tiny beads of sweat glittered along her hairline and upper lip, the faint flush that never left her face during the summer spread high over her cheekbones. Wei Ying’s stomach twisted in a way that had nothing to do with the nauseating weather. 

“...Ying?” the question floated to her as her eyes traced over the line of Lan Zhan’s cheekbone and down her jaw. She startled with it, snapping her eyes back to Lan Zhan’s. They were a dark, WARM gold today, deep and warm like a jar of lotus honey left in the sun. 

“Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan asked again, her brow furrowing in concern.

“Sorry,” Wei Ying said, her voice coming out far too breathy to be considered normal. “I, um–lost in thought. What were you saying?”

Lan Zhan opened her mouth and then paused, golden eyes lingering somewhere south of Wei Ying’s nose. Instead of responding she set her bowl down with a soft clink, her cool hand coming up to cup Wei Ying’s chin. Wei Ying froze, breath catching in her throat when Lan Zhan’s calloused thumb brushed the side of her mouth, digging ever so slightly into her skin, pulling her open half an inch before pulling away. Lan Zhan’s thumb came away covered in coffee ice cream, and, in a move straight out of Wei Ying’s most forbidden fantasies, she brought it up to her own mouth, dragging her gaze from Wei Ying’s lips back to her eyes, as she sucked her own thumb into her mouth. Wei Ying stood stock still, pinned in place by Lan Zhan’s eyes. Heat that had nothing to do with the summer washed over her, and she couldn’t hold in another gas when Lan Zhan released her thumb with a pop. Something swirled in Lan Zhan’s eyes, tinged dark and hungry and everything Wei Ying had been convincing herself couldn’t be true for years, laid out right in front of her. She was fairly certain it wasn’t a hallucination brought on by the heat, a feeling that only solidified when Lan Zhan’s tongue flicked out deliberately over her bottom lip.

“I asked,” Lan Zhan finally spoke, her voice husky in a way Wei Ying had never heard– or never allowed herself to hear? Her world seemed to be turning upside down, and she was suddenly unsure of everything she’d thought to be true, unsure of all the stupid rules she’d imposed on herself over the years. Lan Zhan cleared her throat, and Wei Ying’s eyes flicked down to watch the column of her neck tense and release with the movement, and knew she’d been caught by the small huff of laughter that followed. 

“I asked,” Lan Zhan began again, “if you’d be okay ordering in tonight?”

It was an offer, a coded message from Lan Zhan that if she’d gone too far, if she’d overstepped in any way, that they could forget about it and go on with their night as if it hadn’t happened, an offer Wei Ying only picked up on because she knew Lan Zhan better than she knew herself, had spent the last decade of her life dedicating herself to knowing everything there was to know about Lan Zhan. She wondered suddenly how much she’d overlooked, how many signs and messages she’d brushed off because of her own fears. Here, in her sweaty apartment, surrounded by the hot bubble of tension that had formed around them ever since Lan Zhan had looked at her mouth, she couldn’t think of a single good reason to go back to the way they were before. She didn’t even think it was possible.

“Later,” she said, tossing her spoon to the counter and launching herself at Lan Zhan with no further warning. Strong arms caught her as always, Lan Zhan’s surprised sound quickly melting into a pleased hum when Wei Ying rocked up to crush their lips together. 

The ice cream melted on the counter. Neither of them cared.

[jodilin65]

THURSDAY, AUGUST 31, 2006 This is the second day we didn’t need the AC. Yes, it’s slowly cooling down, though we’re supposed to have a few warmer days coming up. Naturally, the cooler weather has the dog going off from 6 PM to midnight, and probably in the mornings too, though I haven’t been up during those times lately. God, how do the owners stand it?!?! Tom’s got to be right about us being able to escape it all! I can’t live like this for another 40 or 50 years, listening to other people’s music, dogs and kids, though kids haven’t been a problem so far in this place. Today’s stereos haven’t been as bad as yesterday’s. Yesterday we didn’t drop from every few minutes to every half hour till around 11:00. It’s after 8:00 now so it’s picking up a little. It seems to get bad around lunchtime, then again between 3:00–5:00. Then there’s a bit of a lull till 8:00, and then it picks up again for a few hours.

Sometime before Tom goes to work we’ll be ordering those 4 Barbies – 2 swimsuit models that come with 2 spare outfits. One’s blond, and one’s got black hair. Also, a blond wearing a really nice gown for having shades of yellow and green, which aren’t my usual colors, that’s citrus-scented. I don’t care for that scent much, but it’ll fade fast enough. Especially with all the incense going. She’s called Citrus Obsession and is from the Flavor Obsession series. Because brown is such a dull color to me, I’m not the least bit interested in the Chocolate Obsession doll. Lastly, I’ll be getting the Diwali Barbie done up in an Indian theme with long black hair. The order will come to $122, a far cry cheaper than the $523 the 5 Tonners and Barbie just cost me! Next, I’ll save for a couple of vinyl Ashton-Drake baby dolls that will no doubt make any baby dolls I currently have seem utterly phony-looking!

The loud truck just drove out next door, but it wasn’t hauling anything. With Labor Day weekend coming up, I expect there’ll be all kinds of company, including animals on the swings. If they can have so much company when it’s not a holiday, then I can only imagine how it’ll be on holidays. I’m sure that dog will spend the long weekend over there, too. You know all our neighbors can rarely go to other people’s houses and that they have to have visitors nearly every day. At least I’ll be asleep through most of it.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 30, 2006 The mail’s been coming late lately, like at 6:00. I guess the regular mailman’s on vacation. Especially since whoever’s been delivering it has been putting mail in her box. She must be regularly observing the box to see if the flap’s up because she came to get what was in it after Tom made sure it wasn’t any of our mail. There was one regular envelope and some junk. Not surprisingly, she just took the envelope and left the junk, too lazy to drop it in the dumpster on her way to her place. Who knows? Maybe she’s decided to drop her PO Box or wherever the hell she’s been getting her mail figuring she’s met us a few times and feels she can trust us to get her mail here. I hope not, though, and I still hope she sticks around till we split. She hasn’t been as bad lately with the door slamming, so I can’t complain. It’s like she’d go out more at night during the winter which is weird.

My wins lately consist of bandanas, blinky lights and a $20 Border’s certificate. I hope they come through with the Border’s certificate cuz I’d like to order some old favorites by Ruby Jean Jensen. They have used books which saves a lot of money.

I’ll be ordering 4 Barbies tomorrow, and getting a miniature Barbie and an exercise ball from the grocery store this Saturday. I’d still like to keep fit although I am going to let my weight climb to its heart’s desire. I don’t know if I’ll gain 20 pounds or 200, but I don’t care anymore. I’m just sick of going hungry all the time just to stay 30 pounds overweight. I’m currently 130 pounds, so we’ll see where I end up. I’ll probably gain a pound or so a week for quite a while. I figure if your average American can survive life at 50 pounds overweight, so can I.

I also know that the weight will help the next time someone’s dumb enough to threaten me. Nancy and I were about the same weight when she threatened me. But had I been 30 or 40 pounds heavier, I may’ve been able to take her. Oh, I’d still have gotten charged and lost my visitation and commissary since I can’t get away with shit no matter how justified I might be, but I probably could’ve taken her nonetheless. It’s okay. I’ll get the next one.

If there are two big things I’ve learned over the last decade it’s that not all prejudice is on account of fear, misunderstanding or insecurity, but of certain people’s sick, evil behavior. Also, not everyone who’s big eats like a pig.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 29, 2006 Despite Tom’s always being overly optimistic, I have to give him the fact that I don’t know computers like he does. So if he says the program’s looking more and more promising by the minute, then I have to trust and believe him. This is a far different thing than when he’d tell me he wanted a kid when we knew he didn’t.

I had a funny thought earlier. Well, say our spirits really can float around and check on those who are still alive after we die, and say Doe and Art go belly up in a decade or so. Imagine them checking on their dogs first, which is what they’d do knowing them, then their friends, then family. Well, they sure as hell would be in for quite an eyeful when they got to checking on us! Especially if we really do get rich. This brilliant idea is all his, but I wonder if I “wrote a jinx” and helped? When I wrote Doe & Art I thought it’d be best to make like we were doing well financially so the real message – don’t forget to leave us some money when you assholes die – wouldn’t seem obvious. (though the Queen and Miss Perfect probably took the genuine pleasure of telling them how broke we were) I simply said we won a substantial amount in a sweepstake, though I didn’t elaborate. Besides, no matter what the real case was, I wasn’t about to be like – while you’re no doubt still living high off the hog, I’m still the same old underdog, a poor old loser, losing houses, losing land, getting shit on by society, living like a bum, sleeping on floors, scraping pennies, etc. Ah, but in the end, the underdog really does come out on top at times!

Meanwhile, do I regret the past? Well, sure it’s easy to say I wish I’d done certain things differently, but nah, I don’t think I really regret it because to say I did would be saying I wish I’d been perfect which would mean I’d have to be inhuman.

Tom didn’t see the dog when he went grocery shopping last Saturday, and he left late, which means that if by some freak chance they allow it indoors overnight, it certainly would’ve been out for the day by the time he rode by. So I guess it really does just visit a lot. Why people up here feel the need to take their dogs everywhere they go is still beyond me. Makes me wonder if they’re going to pass a law allowing them to be taken to work!

The animals are already back in school, I’m surprised to see. After all, it’s still August, and I know I never began school till right after Labor Day.

I made the stupid mistake of spending $30 on these pills called Hoodia, which is from a cactus plant, hoping against hope that they’d take my appetite away like the Claritin did and like they claim they do, but nope. Once again, my body’s completely out of my control. It’s either go hungry or get fatter, and I think I’m just about ready to eat a normal 1500-2000 calories a day and let myself gain another 30 pounds or so cuz I’m sick of stressing over it. Sometimes the best way to deal with a problem is not to deal with it at all. Especially when the aids that really work are either illegal or require a prescription. These Hoodia pills are backed by Oprah. Should’ve known better than to trust the word of a black.

I’m still having loads of fun with my incense, but am having an awful lot of sticks go out on me and I have to relight them. I wonder why?

My dolls came yesterday and look gorgeous all set up on display! The big 22” American Model is more impressive than I thought she’d be. The best of the 16” ones are definitely Aqua Angelina, then Carrie. Emme, the plus-size doll, is nice, too. The only ones that aren’t quite as dazzling as I expected are the Sydney and Barbie dolls, though they’re still plenty nice enough.

My palm tree died recently. I’m surprised. It had been doing so much better since coming to this state, so I don’t know what killed it. Maybe it got too big for its pot, though no roots were sticking out that I could see. Oh well. I’ll get new ones, probably fake, sometime in the future. Plants aren’t a high priority right now.

I wrote Paula a letter, but as I told her, I’m dropping my letters to once a month. I just don’t always have anything new to update her on every week or two, and she rarely answers any of my letters, so I think monthly letters will be sufficient enough. The cutback in stamps will help make up for the $9 package I’ll be sending in a few months consisting of unwanted incense, a few oils, that snot green bracelet I won, a dull purse, and a glow-in-the-dark celestial mobile.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 26, 2006 Tomorrow we’ll have been in this house for a year. It’s been an incredible year, too! However, I’m starting to think we’re just being teased, as is usually the case when it comes to serious money where the horseracing thing is concerned. Tom’s still optimistic, but that’s just Tom for you, always optimistic, sometimes even when it’s more than obvious to the rest of the world that there’s no logical reason he should be. He said it’d take months and that it’s always looking promising, and while I’m glad it’s making at least a small profit rather than losing, I’m really starting to believe the joke’s on us. Again. This means we could easily be broke throughout most of our lives as I thought would be the case, and that we’re back to square one and with the same old questions – how long will we be stuck in Oregon? How long will we have to live with these fucking stereos, dogs and other shit till we can get into a retirement community? Who will help us when we’re old since we probably won’t have the money to hire anyone to take care of us?

The biggest discouragement is knowing that since before I was old enough to know about the DES, the effects of all the damn drugs they had me on could cause, etc., I was sterile. Or that it at least wasn’t in my cards to conceive. How could I know that practically all my life and be right about it despite Tom’s appointing himself to play designated birth controller, but be wrong about facing poverty so much of the time?

Another discouraging thing is how badly something up there obviously wants us in the mainstream by pulling us out of rural areas and trapping us in cities, something in which money would change.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 24, 2006 I got my incense today, but my dolls are still out there. He really went all out, that’s for sure, enclosing a few extra 100-packs. There are a few I don’t care for, but so far I especially like the Vermont Maple Syrup, Night Blooming Jasmine, Blue Nile, Agree Soap, Grape Jolly Rancher and many others.

My latest win is an advanced reader’s copy of a book that has yet to be proofread. I couldn’t get into it, so it’ll stay here if it doesn’t get sold. Instead, we went to that bookstore where I grabbed a few more mysteries. The guy there only wanted a few of the many books I brought in to use to trade for credit, so I think I’ll order online next time. There’s more selection online than in this little store we go to anyway, and the shipping on media mail is next to nothing.

As for movies, we decided to go with Blockbuster instead. They have better deals. The only sucky thing is the in-store coupons they send which we have no interest in. The whole idea of having them mailed to us is so we don’t have to bother going to the stores. We’re in the process of ripping/burning season 3 of Charlie’s Angels.

The animals were out on the swings today, but truthfully, I’d never have known they were there had I not seen them when I was taking the trash out. There were 2-3 little ones with that pregnant teen. The reason I didn’t know they were there till I saw them is that I had the music on. Between the dogs, the stereos, and the overall sounds of the city, I always have either music or the sound machine going during the daytime. Today was horrible stereo-wise. It was one after another and they just totally drove me fucking crazy!

As for that black dog, we saw it two days in a row chained by the back left corner of the house, the furthest from our place. We haven’t heard it in here since the back right corner of their place would block it, but if it does get to be a problem, we’ll let their rental management know. Them having it chained there makes me again think it is still a rental. Why would you chain it to that small area when you have a huge fenced-in yard? To be kind to your neighbors? I don’t think so! It tells me they want to keep it out of view of the road. The only way you can see it is if you’re walking by where they park their cars.

They haven’t been driving that truck with the loud motor in and out lately. Guess boating season’s just about over.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 19, 2006 At 2 PM a couple of days ago our power went out. I went over to see if Kim’s went out too, and it turned out the entire town went out, but not for long. Still, they have an awful lot of power failures here. I was surprised to see there wasn’t a huge pile of trash back there. Just an old TV and a bag or two of trash. I guess she’s been dumping it the night before the trash gets picked up. The midges have totally taken over like crazy, though, and the smell that wafted out from her door when she opened it was too horrible to even describe! I don’t know if it was rotting food or what, but it was totally gross.

Yesterday he really began to try out the program after doing a lot more work on it. It won 3 of 5 races and made a $30 profit. Still needs a lot of adjusting to turn that $30 a day into $300, but he now feels that the only way to do that is to really get serious about it and start betting regularly. It’s not going to happen overnight, but he still feels encouraged and that it will eventually happen. He’s gearing up to run some races later on today, too.

We rode to Fred’s early this morning and I got a Barbie I’ve had my eyes on for a while with brown hair and eyes that wears a lovely pink and purple glittery gown. For just a few bucks I picked up a pack of 7 lip/body glitter gels in different colors. They taste sort of funny and don’t moisturize well, but look cool. Tinkerbell sure had fun trying to lick it off.

Tom and I both got a kick out of this new Barbie that not only comes with a pet cat or dog but a litter box full of shit, too. Now that’s weird!

Kepa sent a message yesterday saying that due to an emergency move they had to make, although he never said what that move was, they were busy. I’m surprised no one died. However, he’s going to expedite my package to 3-day air at no additional cost to me so I’ll still get it on time as the 5-day ground would’ve been, which is so way nice of him. He said my order was looking great being the first customer and seeing the first finished set. I’m amazed at how psyched he is about this first customer thing since it’s not his first store, but I’m just as glad to be the first customer!

So next week will be loads of fun with the incense on Thursday and the dolls on Friday! At least that’s when I think they’ll come.

I cut my bangs back again for variety. I look better with them, but get too lazy to keep up with trimming them regularly cuz of how fast my hair grows.

I got a free 10-day trial thing in the mail for Netflix. It’s for new customers only, but the card is in his name, so who knows if it’ll go through? If not, we might resume our membership even though half of their DVDs are filthy and won’t play. This way I could rent season 3 of Charlie’s Angels which is now out and about.

I won some Truth or Dare cards, a stupid kiddy game. I put them up on one of the highest molding ledges above the front bedroom window. Another fun tactic to make them really work for that $450 since they might have to use a ladder to get them down. I got them up there using tongs while standing on the bed. They’re almost 9’ up.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 16, 2006 Tom is still continuing to fine-tune the program and plans to run some more races this Friday. Assuming nothing’s teasing us and that we’re going to be able to escape the city animals, I won’t bother sending the legislative letter in about the car stereos. No one’s going to do a damn thing about the problem anyway. At least not until people start shooting each other over it.

Lately, I’ve won a leave-in hair conditioner, a candy bar, an ugly African beaded necklace I refused because they wanted to charge me shipping for it, and 3 Hallmark DVDs, one of which is broken. Fortunately, the one that’s cracked is of no interest to me. The other two, which are mysteries, may prove to be good.

I miss watching movies, but it’s a pain for Tom to record/send me movies, so I’m tempted to restart Netflix, even if half their DVDs are fucked up. For just $10 a month, I could get two at a time with no monthly limits.

For being the first official customer at Silk Splash (I placed a $50 order yesterday), Kepa said to just ask for free stuff with each order and I’d probably get some. How cool! And this is on top of a $10 discount for it being my first order and an additional $3 off because the shipping didn’t go through, so he said. The shipping was $12 and change, so I saved about $13 in all. I’m getting Green Leaf & Bamboo in a 1-oz. bottle of bubble bath, and a 16-oz. bottle of jasmine lotion. Everything else will be 10-packs. Aside from some old faves, I’ll be getting Agree Soap, Almond Joy, Apple Jolly Rancher, Bay Rum, Blue Raspberry Jolly Rancher, Bubble Gum, Bump & Grind, Butterscotch, Campfire & Marshmallows, Candied Apples, Caramel Coffee, Carrot Cake, Cedarwood, Cherry Jolly Rancher, Chocolate Decadence, Cola, Cucumber, Dark Chocolate, Dulce de Leche, Exotic Musk, Exotic Seabreeze, Frangipani (sweet), Ginger Ale, Gingerbread, Grape Jolly Rancher, Hawaiian Tropics Glade, Hot Buttered Rum, Jamaican Me Crazy, Krispy Kreme, Midnight Therapy, Midsummers Night, Navy, Night Blooming Jasmine, Ocean Water, Orgasm, Paris Hilton, Patchouli (Indonesian), Peach Jolly Rancher, Ponds, Psychedelic Dreams, Pumpkin Pie (sweet), Purple Rain, Rain (California), Realities, Red Musk, Rice Flower & Shea, Rye Bread, Sandalwood (sweet), Sex on the Beach (sweet), Southern Belle, Strawberry Jolly Rancher, Sugared Plums, Sun Tan, Sweet Green Grass, Sweet Milk, Sweetgrass, Cedar & Sage, Touch of Pink, Tropical Cream, Tropical Sunset, Vermont Maple Syrup, Walk in the Woods, Waterfall Mist, Wet Kisses, Wild Pansies, Witches Brew and Zen.

This Friday I’ll be making my biggest doll order yet of $500 at a place in Arkansas that I’ve ordered before, The Doll Peddlar, which is spelled wrong but that’s how they spell it. Still, they and Two Daydreamers in California are my main Tonner sources. I’ll be getting 3 regular 16” Tonners, a fat 16” Tonner based on Emme, a real-life heavyset model, a 22” Tonner and a Barbie.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 10, 2006 Things are still running smoothly though not without scare/annoyance #2 from the property management. Today we got a letter threatening to charge us the next time the drains backed up now that they suddenly know it’s “tenant-caused.” What took them so long to figure this one out is beyond us, especially since one of the workers told Tom it had been building up over many years, and I could clearly see tons of calcium buildup in my vision that confirmed that yes, it would’ve taken many years to build up. Nonetheless, they submitted a copy of the $500 bill, and we assume Kim got one, too. We know it’s just a ploy for the owner to try to extort money from us should the filthy pig living behind us jam the drains up again before we move, which we’re hoping will be by next June, but Tom’s going to tell them in person the next time he pays the rent not to expect us to pay them a dime as long as we share a drain with someone else. Someone the handyman himself referred to as being “filthy.” They may try to raise the rent out of spite, but we’ll move if they do since the place isn’t even worth the $450 we’ve been paying being so small, old, tilted and on a shared lot. I know one thing for sure and that’s that if there was the slightest shred of guilt over the idea of us leaving the place dirty, along with whatever we don’t want that we don’t sell, it’s all gone now. And if they do anything else, the place will be damaged along with trashed to ensure that they have to pay a hell of a lot more than our $450 deposit to fix it, if we pour syrup all over the floor and carpet, for example. We already figured that we’d not only not have an address to give them for the deposit once we do move or need the money if we’re making a ton of it through the program, but that we would leave shit behind and a little dirt as well to make them have to work for some of that money. I know that when I was slaving over trying to clean the duplex’s oven that wasn’t self-cleaning, I wished we weren’t staying with the same company and that they’d given us a reason not to bother cleaning anything. Well, this time they’ll be the ones slaving! Yes, we can cost them a hell of a lot more than they could cost us, and it feels so good to be the ones with the hold on someone else for once! What are they planning to do if it happens again anyway? Send us both a copy of the bill and end up with twice the amount? Well, the ball’s in their court as to how many costly and time-consuming yet fun memories we’ll leave them with, and believe me when I say there’s no end to what we could do. They’d have to practically tear down and build this place back up from scratch. We could write on the wall by the door, “Oh shit! I forgot my mama taught me not to write on walls,” then trail a string of dots to the door and add, “Or on doors.” We could clog up the toilet and write on the lid in permanent marker – always permanent – “NOW you can blame us!” We could trash or sell the doors, windows, heater, ceiling fan, oven and fridge, and take a hammer to the walls and sink fixtures. We could write “Fuck AAA” outside the front door, and jam the keyholes and outlets with something. We could punch holes in the ceiling with something and cut up the blinds. We could smash the brick around the heater, and coat the carpet/floors in syrup or paint or both, then bust the cabinets. If we left the heater, we could drill holes in back of the pipe out of view so the future tenants in here die and AAA gets sued. We could leave all the lights on and the hose running full blast under the house to tilt it some more or at least cost them even more money. But we will forget about bothering to fix the kitchen light, and we will leave the place unbelievably messy!

In better news, my latest wins are a bottle of vitamins Tom’s going to try, $10 of bingo credit at an online gaming site (I didn’t win), a matchbox car, a DVD, a book, and a daily prize from this site that didn’t give me the last daily prize I won. That was okay, though, cuz it was just a magazine subscription for the year. Even so, I quit entering their contests.

The artificial neural network is going well. The computer has to literally “learn” the different things about each horse, each track, etc. He teaches it every day, then sees what it’s learned when he gets in from work. Let’s just say that this requires the best computer equipment money can buy! Had he gotten this idea a few years ago, we’d never have been able to pull it off. Computers just weren’t fast enough. He’s now got it down to an 8% error rate and would like to get it down to 3%. I think he’s going to take it for a pretend test run tonight.

I can’t wait to get out of here. Not just because of whatever other shit management may try to pull, but because I’m sick of the car stereos, the dogs barking, the people screaming, and of course, we’re both sick of being crammed into such a tiny dump. That’s another reason I’m putting Cheri off for now.

Despite any management troubles, cold, snow and noise, this last year since we moved out of the duplex has been incredible! Best year of our lives together, no doubt. If someone had told me a year ago that I’d get 2 mannequins, 2 porn star dolls, 9 Tonners and 13 Barbies, I’d never have believed it. And this isn’t counting clothes, a whole new bed ensemble, beauty supplies, incense/oils, wind chimes and other odds and ends. Definitely been having the time of my life despite how much I hate the cold, snow, noise and this house. It’s hard to believe that the girl who wanted to kill herself that summer of ’04 was me! It’s like we stepped out of our lives and into completely different ones. We were so, so dirt poor and no one gave a damn, and I was so sure we’d never ever have an extra dime to our names. If there’s any good poverty did us it’s that it makes us appreciate having money all the more, as opposed to someone who’s always had it and therefore doesn’t know anything else. I see it as a form of compensation, and Tom agrees with me. It helps to make up for every person that’s fucked us over that God knew would get away with it. Still, I can’t wait to own a place, preferably outright or close enough to it, and to work for ourselves instead of someone else so we don’t have to live with the threat of him getting fired or laid off over the next 15 years or so, so long as nothing’s teasing us with this potential money-making program.

My ankles have been giving me trouble when I jog, so I blew my exercise ball back up and am using that, along with doing my crunches.

I’ve decided to hold off on the debarker and mini washer I was going to get. For one, I don’t see how the debarker could be that effective at this distance, and secondly, if we’re going to have enough money for a real washer/dryer in the next year or so, why buy a cheap little piece of shit?

SATURDAY, AUGUST 5, 2006 It’s coming up on 10:00 p.m. yet still sounds pretty cityish out there. We got the pounding of bass, horns honking, sirens and voices. Yeah, they’re camped out on their porch from what I can tell, so with no background sounds I can just barely make out a cackle of laughter every now and then. I love the in-between temps when it’s not too cold or too hot, but it sure makes things noisier. When it’s too cold or hot, the attention-getters have their car windows closed, and the dog’s quieter. For now, even though it’s getting late I had to put the music on just now in order to drown out the circus outside. It’s sick, really sick, that one has to live this way unless they either go to a really remote place or can get into a retirement community.

The AC is the cheapest to run and the portable heaters are cheaper than the gas heater, so we may still move my office into the bedroom, even though it doesn’t seem like next door is going to do much more than annoy me with their loud truck motor, driving that boat in and out a few times a day. I think that’s why they have the swings set up in the middle of the yard too; to be able to drive around them easier. Of course, there’s no saying how it’ll be in a month or so over there. Anyway, with me in the bedroom all the time, I wouldn’t run the gas heater as much. Just enough to keep the rat comfortable and to keep us from feeling like we stepped into the North Pole when we go into the kitchen. It’d also get me further away from the dog, though I do still plan on getting the debarker, even though I doubt it’ll reach that far. I think it’s meant for dogs that are just a few feet from you. I could’ve used the damn thing at the duplex if they really do work! What I end up doing for sure will depend on how the finances are in a month or so from now.

Tom’s getting better and getting his strength back. He was so damn dehydrated there for a while that he could hardly pee or sweat. We’ll never know just what invaded his digestive system, but we just hope that why it happened isn’t connected to the program! He got a lot of work done today and may even be able to test it on some races as soon as tomorrow. Assuming there’s no further interference from above or from anywhere else, it’s just a matter of it being a waiting game from here on out, but at least there’s something to wait for and we now have a sense of direction. I planned to get the Cheri mannequin sometime in the late fall, but if we’re making money like crazy then, I’ll just postpone her till we get settled somewhere. Meanwhile, the Barbies, Tonners and Ashton-Drake dolls would be a lot easier to move than any 6-foot mannequin.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 3, 2006 Next door has me rather confused right now. Why would the truck drive in pulling the boat, then turn around 5 minutes later and leave with it? Maybe it wasn’t the boat it came in with. I couldn’t tell for sure with the leaves in full bloom, but I clearly saw him pull out with it after sitting with the engine idling for about 5 minutes. It’s a loud motor for such a new truck. That’s why it’s distracting. Kim’s car is almost silent. Anyway, I doubt they’ll be driving in back once it gets cold, and that’ll be starting in a month or so.

Tom still feels weak, tired, and has been very dehydrated. He slept 12 hours yesterday, something he hasn’t done in years, and didn’t even feel like he had to pee when he got up! We got him some Gatorade which is said to help hydrate the system. He said that although he’s still tired and had to go to bed early, it does seem to help. He even ate more than he has over the last couple of days.

I just hope there’s nothing else going on and that this isn’t whatever’s up there trying to tell us, “Hey! I still want you to be broke most of your lives so every time you get the bright idea of trying to make money so you can own a house outright that no one can take from you unless it burns down, I’m going to get you for it!”

Tom said that if it is, then he must be much closer than he realized since he expected it to take weeks, even months before he started generating any serious money. Close or not, though, you can’t fight fate and win. It’s like me once trying to be a singer and then a mother. No matter how good I got, I couldn’t become the singer I wasn’t meant to be. And no matter how often Tom let himself cum, and no matter how many procedures I had done to help me, no child could’ve been conceived that wasn’t meant to be conceived, and if it had been, I’d have lost it probably long before I even knew of its existence. Either way, if there’s a connection, we’ll find out just as soon as he gets better because something else will just come up to delay us. This is turning out to be enough of a curveball, though. He had expected to have the program written by tomorrow, yet he got so sick, so fast. Well, sooner or later we’re going to find out if we’re about to be compensated for the hell we’ve gone through, or if something’s out to tease us bad, and I mean bad!

We’re still not even sure what’s caused this. He thinks it could be either bacteria in the water that only some people are sensitive to, or his hot dogs were bad. Whatever the cause, I just hope to hell there’s no connection to the handicapping program!

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 2, 2006 Although Tom’s exhausted and had to go to bed early, he made it through the day. He didn’t think he’d make it after he walked up to drop the rent off, but he did, and they only gave him 6 minutes of overtime. Now hopefully there won’t be many more setbacks.

They drove in with their boat yesterday evening, but are still being quiet.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 1, 2006 I can’t believe it’s August! It feels like we’re well into September. When I got up an hour ago it was 65º in here. It’s only to be a few degrees warmer today, but because it’s sunny today, the place should warm up nicely in a few hours.

Tom’s 99% sure we can make about $300 a day but doesn’t know if that’ll happen in a month from now or in 9 months, as he puts it. It’s hard to believe his income could more than triple! He makes about $400 a week, so to go from that to $300 a day would be utterly amazing! And of course, he only gets paid for 5 days a week and not 7. This would be a little over $100,000 a year! What a wonderful way to be wrong too, because I was so sure we’d be broke for most of our lives. I always used to say that it’d be nice if our struggles weren’t mere punishments, but simply compensation for future riches. Well, just maybe it was. I wouldn’t just get the things I slowly planned on getting on this income, but the things I’d never bother to consider that I’d like to have, but that weren’t high priorities on my list. There’s still a lot of work to be done, Tom says, but it’s way cool to know that there’s a way out of Oregon after all. The handicapping program won’t hit every single race, but once he goes through the motions of fine-tuning the steps he needs to complete, it should hit about a third of the races and then we can simply pack up and go. We can go anywhere we want that has an internet connection until we decide where we want to settle. Pretty neat, considering the fact that just a few weeks ago there seemed to be no way out of Oregon. I’d have had to stop shopping altogether and we’d have had to save which would’ve taken years without a big win or that partnership he’s never going to get. That’s okay, though, as far as the partnership goes because we’d rather work for ourselves than for someone else. We can’t get fired or laid off if we’re our own bosses, nor can anyone take our house away if it’s all paid for.

Later…

Tom came home sick after just two hours of work. He said he was up all night with the runs and throwing up. He’s been sleeping since he got in. He’s pretty sure it’s just a 24-hour bug. I hope that’s all it is and not something trying to punish or delay him from getting the programming done. I suggested it could be because he got run down by not sleeping enough, but he doesn’t think that’s it. They’ve also been giving him overtime lately because someone quit. We wish they’d either hire someone else or give him a raise, but that’s life for you. It’s when you don’t need/want the overtime that you get it. And it’s the person who wishes she could puke her weight off that can’t while the one who doesn’t want to can’t help it.

It’s been a little noisier today. Less Kim and more dog. There have been more animals going up and down the street too, on roller skates and skateboards, but they haven’t been a problem so far.

[littleharpethcrossfit]

Sunday, October 6, 2024.

There was a class at 1 PM on this perfectly beautiful day. A very fine group of friends came to play.

Warmup #1

Admiral Armando led us in a mobility/flexibility session to get us going.

Warmup #2

Tabata's

4 Rounds

Plank

Hollow Rock

Strength

Deadlifts

3 Reps EMOM X 10 Minutes

Progress Weight Doing Touch & Goes

Bernie/Shane=335.....Ed/Robert/Armando=315 Herb/Dana/Paul=265.....Tim=215..... Average Dave=155.....Coach=135 Cheri/Sue=125......Linda=110......Alicia/Clara/Camille=95

WOD

A Sandwich

Discussed/Described by Big Shane

Run 800 / Row-Ski 1000 / Bike 2000m

Then: 10 Rounds

1 Ground To Overhead.....(155/135/85)

5 Pull-Ups

7 Push-Ups

9 Sit-Ups.....(GHD)

And Last:

Run 800 / Row-Ski 1000 / Bike =2000m

Robert=17:17*.....Average Dave=19:28**.....Sue=20:14.....Ed=21:02 Shane=21:32**.....Camille=22:15.....Clara=22:45.....Tim=22:22* Bernie=23:21*.....Alicia=24:03.....Herb=25:28.....Dana=25:42** Paul=28:38..... Armando/Linda/Coach=PJ.....Cheri=Left Early

Notes:

This was perhaps the last really warm Summer day since beginning tomorrow we will have much cooler weather. And then, sadly, our Big Ass Trees will start quickly dropping their leaves.

Families: We enjoyed all 4 Rousseau's, and 3 of the Schwartz family, and they counted for nearly half of our total attendance.

While I was spotting Shannon for her PR record Bench Press yesterday, I was so enamored by her emerald green eyes I forgot to give her PR credit on the blog. Today I told husband Armando to apologize for me, but he sprained his back Deadlifting and will no doubt be thinking only of himself and demand that Shannon give him a back massage as soon as he gets home.

The next workout at the Barn is Thursday at 4 PM.

[apexart-journal]

Sonia Paulino Love Outbound to Montevideo, Day 19

Wednesday: The day began with a morning meet-and-greet with Laura Rocha, Communications professor at Universidad Catholica with a Master's in Creative Writing for Film, TV, and Transmedia. She gave me a tour of common areas, we passed by Javier's desk to say hi, then sat for a chat in the cafeteria garden with our coffees. It was lovely. Topics of conversation included: modern methods of communication and subliminal propaganda, teaching in our digital age, TikTok and the kids'/students'/chiquilins' (chickadees'?) innate savvy with graphics and photography, mothers and nurturing, and the impact of documentary work.

It's another HOT one with MORE SUN. From the university, Valentina kindly drove me to Centro Educativo Los Tréboles which provides educational services to children and teens from disenfranchised neighborhoods. The teens were out on a field trip to the beach, so my 5 hours of volunteer work involved tending to forty or so 5-7 year olds. I helped guide them through a relay of water games, watched over them as they ran and played for what seemed like forever in a HOT, SUNNY field, helped serve them cups of fruit salad as a snack and, later, pre-dinner of rice cooked with mixed vegetables. There were some minor skirmishes, but the kids seemed otherwise well behaved. That is except for one kid acted out while we were in the meditative woodsy patch by proclaiming “La Virgen no existe!” and proceeded to slap the Virgin Mary sculpture in the face. I didn’t feel it was my place to discipline and, to be honest, thought it as amusing as it was appalling, but was relieved when the supervising staff member said “No! Why are you doing that?” and gently pulled him away. While waiting outside for some of their parents who were meeting about a 2-night camping trip they were going to go on, I suddenly had kids crawling all over me asking me how to say things in English like Papa Noel and papas fritas. Do people sing and dance where you are from?  Do you have an iPhone? I pulled out the apexart Motorola to show them where Montevideo and New York are on Google maps. Is that the water? Where is the sky? Did you fly on an airplane? One little boy had graying front teeth and Juan, the staff member who guided me, asked him if he was sure he was brushing everyday. “Si!”

Afterwards, Juan kindly drove me to the next activity, "La Voz del Cuerpo". It was a singing class heavy on theory and light on formal training. Myself and about ten other women sat in a circle on the floor and were encouraged to activate the potential of our own unique voices. Our first exercise was to follow an empowering a cappella everyone but me was familiar with called "Reverderser" by Perotá Chingó. For the final 30 minutes of a two hour course, we stood and sang two songs: The Beatles' "Let it Be", and Shakira's "Moscas en la Casa". It was a long day.

Thursday:  Some down time light schedule happy to be indoors

Zoom with Mvelo, apexart inbound fellow from South Africa. Our experiences are polar opposites. north/south fast/slow hot/cold

Therapist. We talk about the week. The heat wave has broken and the sun's beatings have made way for a heavy dose of humidity. Still HOT. I'm 90% sure I spot the truck and driver who hit me. It's the same day of the week but maybe 20 minutes later than the accident, on a different street, and they're making a left turn this time from the opposite direction. There is a different assistant in the passenger seat. The driver looks to be concentrating on his driving.

Gym workout feeling an endorphins boost peacocks in a park nearby.

Friday: Cooler weather! There's talk of rain.

Journaling

Meeting with Nia apexart program coordinator. We also talked about the week.

Quick just-in-case groceries get in gear for final week Out tomorrow and assuming busy Sunday Not sure what businesses will be open Mon-Tues on account of the 4-day weekend during Carnival that is also called Carnival

Journaling

Ramping up to go out tonight. The Llamadas Parade is said to be the highlight of Carnival and features candome drums drums drums! 

[beardedmrbean]

Helsingin Sanomat has a story about a German woman who has moved to Finland with her 12-year-old Finnish-German dual citizen son — but cannot get her residency rights approved by the immigration authorities.

"Isabel" moved to Helsinki with her son "Max". She's separated from the boy's Finnish father, who remained in Germany, and wanted to move to Helsinki to give the boy better exposure to his Finnish roots and the Finnish language.

Isabel is in the film industry and currently between projects, after her previous job ended in August.

Max started at the German school in Helsinki and is enjoying it, but his mother has been unable to claim residency rights for herself by registering as an EU citizen.

The immigration authorities have told her that she would need to have lived with her son in a third EU country, so that he would have exercised his right to free movement under EU legislation, to have automatic rights to residency in Finland.

Migri also told her she should not officially move to Helsinki but instead spend 90 days at a time in the city, spending a day in Tallinn every three months to avoid exceeding the maximum time allowed in the country.

Her son, therefore, would officially live alone in Finland. Authorities have told her verbally that EU freedom of movement rights don't apply to her, they might reject her application, and after that she could apply via the process for non-EU citizens — and she would then be accepted.

Attendance record

Russia's assault on Ukraine forced a shakeup in many parts of Finnish society, not least ice hockey. The country's biggest club, Jokerit, found their Russian-owned arena and place in Russia's KHL untenable, and left that competition.

They are now heading back to the Finnish league, via the second-tier competition Mestis. Although their home arena is not usable due to its sanctioned oligarch owners, Iltalehti reports that they are set to break an attendance record on Friday when they play at Helsinki ice hall.

On Wednesday, the club announced they had sold some 7,300 tickets for the game against Kiekko-Vantaa.

That beats the previous record of just under 7,000, which was set by Kiekko-Espoo when Jokerit played them earlier this season.

Weather turns colder

Ilta-Sanomat says that the unseasonably warm conditions Finland has basked in at the end of September may be coming to a close.

For the next couple of weeks there will be colder than normal weather in the north, while the south will have typical autumnal conditions — so cooler than the summery weather we've had in September.

There could even be a touch of frost overnight leading to Friday morning, offering a hint of what Finnish winter has to offer over the coming months.

[bike42]

Sunday September 17, 2023

After another comfortable night in our little Inverness cottage, we packed up, converted our roller bags to their backpack configuration, and strapped our day packs on the front. Jeff rolled our smaller bag along with him. Weather-dot-com said it was is the thirties, so we set our with gloves and hats and our Gore-Tex jackets! We walked the 1.2 miles up to the Kingsmill Hotel, the site where we were to meet our Backroads group at 10am.

We arrived first, and it was fun to meet the first two couples that arrived - all from Wisconsin! They are veterans of many Backroads trips - this is our first experience with the company. Then a couple from Chicago arrived, then a newlywed couple (married Thursday in Inverness) arrived, then a mother/daughter/friend of mom … then two more couples that we’ve not yet interacted with much. Then we met our guides, Jenn and Keith, and our support person, Jules. More on all that later!

They piled all of our luggage into a large van, and we climbed into the three vans for a 90 minute drive to Torridon on the west coast of Scotland. The first 30 minutes of the drive I saw sights from yesterday, then we were climbing into the hills. We went past many lakes (lochs) and small villages. The terrain switched back and forth from forested areas to Heather-covered hills. After about an hour, we entered a National park area and a small one lane road with occasional turn outs for oncoming traffic. A slow way to travel - patience required. There were parking lots at trailheads full of cars and lots of RVs from all over Europe.

Eventually we got to the tiny town of Torridon where they’d arranged to have Liz from the Wee Whistle Stop Cafe shut down her cafe for the day and prepared lunch for us! It was a fantastic array of smoked salmon, salads and homemade bread. She’s also going to make our lunches the next two days - lucky us!

Keith gave a talk on how things will work overall and how we can us the Backroads app to be more self sufficient! He also was clear that their job is to make magic happen for us … and that we shouldn’t stew about something all week then hit them on the survey at the end of the trip! Jenn talked about safety, and our route for today’s hike.

Back in the vans for about a 10 minute drive to Loch Damh to start the hike - 4 miles along Loch Damh, the River Bagly, and along Loch Torridon until we get to our hotel. Not sure how they get the other vans back to the hotel, but I guess that’s how Jules works his magic!

It had rained a bit on the drive over, but the rain held off for the two hours that we hiked. It stayed cool, and I hiked with two layers and my rain jacket and was surprised I didn’t overheat! We walked through mud, puddles and rocks initially, but that last three miles was on nice wide trail - easy to walk and talk at the same time!

We enjoyed the hike, and what fun to arrive at the hotel and find Jules had coolers of drinks and snacks set out for us. I had a canned Gin and Tonic and some snacks; Jeff had a beer that was not the best, he said. Then we checked into The Torridon - a former hunting lodge turned luxury hotel. It’s quaint and rustic in the common rooms on the ground floor (with a whisky room and a library), but our suite is luxurious! Comfortable chairs overlooking the cow and the loch, a fantastic modern bathroom and massive comfortable bed. Two nights here - lucky us!

We showered and relaxed, then headed down to meet the group for a glass of wine in the library, along with another ice breaker. We headed to a group dinner after that, four amazing courses that were artistic in presentation. The wait staff gave us great detail on each portion, and between the six at our table we were somewhat successful at discerning what we were eating. Perfect portion sizes too!

After dinner, most of us retreated to the bar for some whisky. I sampled a more smoky variety this time - ok, but think I’ll stick to straight single malt going forward!