#context: I called someone whos number I had on a business card since I went to the doctor for my flu

[the-chessboard-is-personal]

holy shit I might finally be getting therapy /gen

[misschf-aisa]

I have an epic tale that is my day yesterday. I think it would be good for me to write it all out as if someone was going to read it, but in a place where it will be lost as soon as I post it. Tumblr is the perfect black hole for this space shot.

I should provide context, but it would only make the story longer and I just don’t have the energy. Okay, maybe a little.

Friday my dad, who is 78, said he’d gotten a voicemail, his oncologist wanted to see him for a checkup at noon Monday. Bad weather was in the forecast for Monday morning, but weathermen are notoriously unreliable so I just said something about if it’s icy you’ll have to reschedule. He was like, of course, and we went about our lives.

Today is Monday and I woke up to a world covered in a good quarter inch of ice. Nothing awful, we didn’t lose power, just enough to make the dog not want to go outside to do her business. (I made her go outside against her wishes, for which I was glared at while she crouched and pooped, but it wasn’t in the house.)

It crossed my mind to check in with dad, but no one would go out in this weather, right? Yeah, you see where this is going.

I got a text around noon. Dad had skidded into a ditch and couldn’t get the car out. Help. I ground my teeth a little, but managed to refrain from texting questions about what the hell he was doing in his car on a day like today. That wouldn’t be helpful, especially after he said it had really scared him. So okay. I glance out the window and my little Fiat is encased in ice. Dad never really fit comfortably in it anyhow. I call my oldest son who just moved to town from Washington state after mustering out of the Navy. He says his 4WD truck is in the garage and he’ll come pick me up.

Oh, I forgot. I have to go because I’m the one with the AAA (thanks @l82theparty) and I’ll need to show them my card before they’ll pull him out of the ditch.

Hey, it would be smart to call AAA now and get the ball rolling since there are probably a shit ton of people in ditches today. So I call dad for a more specific location so I can tell AAA where to find him. He says his GPS just keeps giving him the street number, which is one I don’t recognize. Can he give me a cross street? No. Can he give me a landmark? The route between his house and the doctor’s office is pretty easy to recognize, we’ve done it a thousand times for two rounds of chemo and one round of radiation. No landmarks, just this street number. Okay, we’ll try sharing his location. Nope, that is way too technologically advanced. On the up side it killed time until my son showed up in his truck to collect me.

Some more questions with dad on the phone and we’re still no closer to understanding where he is. So I plug the street into the map just to get an idea and that’s when things begin to go sideways. This street shows up outside of town. Way outside of town. It’s between towns so that I can’t even tell you which little town it’s close to because it’s really just not. We follow the bouncing ball down the highway, past the casino on the outskirts of town, past the toll road, out to a place we’ve never heard of. It took us an hour to get this far, for the record.

I’ve decided my GPS has screwed us so I call dad again, confident we’re going to have to go back into town and comb the streets between the cancer center and dad’s house. But I ask him about the landscape he’s in, and he’s confirming everything sounds right. We drive up and down scary hills covered in ice, then some twisting roads also covered in ice, and Dad is on the phone saying that totally sounds right. To my son’s credit the truck only slipped on these roads a couple of times while he gritted his teeth and complained that he should have put something heavy in the truck bed.

We pass a dead end sign, and Dad doesn’t remember seeing one of those. I’m starting to believe we’re fucked. We pass another sign that says no outlet, and dad doesn’t remember it. My son gives me a look, and I shrug. Then we hit a patch of road that is a skating rink and the kid manages to slide himself onto a patch of grass as we both stare at my father’s car at the bottom of this icy hill in the middle of fucking nowhere. At least we found him, right?

Son and I slip and slide on foot down to the car where dad is fine, he’s got the heater on and the radio, just feels foolish and can’t get out because there’s a tree against the driver’s door. Because, dear reader who has made it this far, he’s not in a ditch. He skidded onto the side of the road where the land drops off into a ravine that was maybe 50 feet deep? I can’t say for sure because when I looked at his front tire and how close it was to the drop off it looked more like the Grand Canyon to me.

Okay dad, we’re not going to touch the car. You’re safe, don’t jostle yourself too much, I’m calling 911 for the first time in my life.

(Why is he in BFE? Oh, sorry, that’s Butt Fucking Egypt if you’re from around here. And I still don’t have an answer for that one.)

Meanwhile I look at the icy incline behind us and tell my son no tow truck is ever going to make it down that hill. A nice young Wagoner County Sheriff’s deputy shows up and his answer is to call a wrecker. I mention that no tow truck is ever going to make it down that hill and he gives me a look so I carefully inched my way back up the hill to sit in my son’s truck and wait.

About 20 minutes later it started to rain. About 30 minutes later it’s raining hard. Still raining hard another half hour or so later when the tow truck arrives on the scene.

Would you believe the tow truck driver said his boss won’t let him take his truck down that hill? He says he wouldn’t leave a person down there though (damn human of him) and the deputy, my son, and the tow truck driver trek down to Save Dad.

I watch from the top of the hill because they don’t need any women down there spouting truths and whatnot and getting in the way. I watch them pop the trunk and get my dad’s walker out. I’m standing in the pouring (so cold) rain watching through a layer of fog that has developed as shadowy figures hunch around the two open doors on the passenger side, I’m assuming they’re figuring out how to get dad out of the car on this side.

I can’t see, so I move over and step into a puddle of ice cold water. It’s not really integral to the story, except I was expecting to be pulling dad out of a suburban drainage ditch so I wore the wrong shoes. My nylon running shoes and my wonderful thick warm socks sucked up that icy water and held it like a lover. It was like the opposite of napalm; instead of fire sticking to my body it was ice cold water.

Meanwhile the boys have come far enough up the hill I can see they have dad sitting on the little bench on the walker and my son is walking backwards pulling it while the deputy and tow truck driver are each pushing a handlebar. My son falls down once, then gets up again. I’m not sure how, but they all manage to get back up that hill and get dad in the truck. It doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things but now I know exactly how much cold rain is required to saturate my rain resistant coat.

The story ends with my son managing to get the truck turned around and safely off of the ice sheet it was resting on. We’re all home and dry and safe and warm. My girl cooked me dinner and made me a hot toddy and snuggled me in warm clothes and an electric blanket. Dad’s car has probably depleted its battery by now because we were all three sitting in the truck when my son asked if he should try to walk back down and turn off the hazard lights. We left it.

So, how was your day?

[largedenominationsplease]

you’d come over, right?

Summary: A year after Kiara and JJ broke up, they come home to the Outer Banks to deal with one of the hardest years of their lives.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: swearing, canon-compliant smoking, au, minor character death, cancer, current events

A/N: Alternate Universe: JJ and Kiara dated seriously for a long while, but over a year before this story, they parted ways. Set in present-day with current events, but most current events are only mentioned briefly for context. All characters aged 21+. Partially inspired by If the World Was Ending by JP Saxe and Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi and current events and Sad Feels™ and a sad playlist my sister made. Come cry with me... also on ao3

Shoutout to @alexandracheers​ for proofreading <3

Sometimes even the most beautiful things die. It’s the sad cycle of life. 

It starts with a spark, a first touch, a first look, a first kiss; 

a few embers of warmth, holding hands, secret glances, flirty texts; 

the roaring flames of passion, clinging to one another, leaving the party early, tangled limbs and tangled sheets; 

then the steady heat of a well-tended fire, cozy mornings making coffee, binging your favorite shows, texting to see how your day is. 

But, sometimes, even the most loved and cared for fires die. They go out with little warning or reason. What was a welcome flame in the hearth one night may be a bed of ash by morning. 

Their fire died a long time ago. It wasn’t anyone’s fault - no one was trying to douse the flames - it just went out. When they sat down and discussed breaking up - parting ways was a more apropos term - she hadn’t even cried. When he packed up and moved out, it was unceremonious. He even kissed her forehead as he left, like he’d done a hundred times before, only this time he wasn’t coming back. 

She still dreamed about him. Sometimes unbidden images of picket fences and a dog and home-cooked meals and potted plants intruded upon her thoughts. Once, when her period was late, she’d even dreamt of a curly-haired little boy with blue eyes - which was ridiculous because she was very single at the time. Did she even want to have kids?

He thought about her, too. Each new destination she traveled to brought new Instagram posts and awakened an ache in his chest he couldn’t quite place. That ache deepened when she revisited places they had gone together - unwanted memories flooding his senses. The smell of coconut still sent him spinning, missing the feeling of running his fingers through her hair, over the smooth skin of her arms and legs. 

What hurt so badly about their fire dying wasn’t that it died. What hurt was that it should never have died; that it died so quietly and suddenly; that one day it was there, burning bright, and the next it was a cold gray heap of coals. 

Even their friends were surprised when he moved back home. “Where is she?” and “What happened?” and “We had no idea you had any problems.”

Followed by the futile response of, “It was just time to move on.”

And they did move on, eventually. She traveled to forget and perhaps after a few months she could call herself truly happy - though there was always an ache of not having someone to share each experience with. He stayed at home, but he opened his own business and the familiarity of home soothed any wounds he sustained. Their fire might have gone out, but they kept the bed of ash in the fireplace, a shrine to what they once had, and it was more comforting than sad after a time. 

When the virus first hit, she’d been back in the states, on the West Coast. She messaged him:

Are you safe? Still have a job? Anyone sick?

Fine for now. You?

Fine.

When the protesting started, he knew she’d be in the thick of it. Not that he didn’t get involved, he just knew her passion for people and justice. He messaged her back this time:

You’re protesting, aren’t you? Are you safe?

Of course! But I’m being careful. You?

Staying safe. Protesting here, too. 

Hurricane Isaias wasn’t meant to be a bad storm, but she had still tracked it up the East Coast. Her suspicions were confirmed when it intensified.

Isaias didn’t wipe y’all out, did it?

No, blew through pretty quick. The Cut took a hit. Gonna take some time to fix it up. 

At first, after reading the headlines about the fires out west, he thought it was a joke. As they spread, he realized how serious it was and it worried him. 

You evacuated, right? The air quality is shit where you are. 

Yep. Gonna take a pandemic-friendly tour of some national parks further east.

Every new development meant more messages sent. Simple little check-ins that meant nothing and everything. It was a scary year the world faced, and even after all those months apart, the only thing they wanted was to find comfort in one another’s safety. On opposite ends of the country, the two of them tied together by current events and the memory of their relationship. 

Mid-September, while she was traveling away from the fires on the West Coast, he got a call from her mother. He hadn’t spoken to her mother much since they had broken up, over a year ago, but she still liked his Instagram posts and struck up conversations when she saw him around town. 

“Hey, Mrs. Anna.”

“Hi, JJ. I’ve told you, it’s just Anna.” Her voice was soft and as kind as ever, but held an edge of tiredness and strain he hadn’t heard from her before. “We have some… tough news, and we wanted you to hear it from us first.”

Colon cancer…

Kiara’s hearing faded into white noise as her mother spoke those words to her through the phone. Her mother went on to explain that even though they caught it late, the doctors were optimistic that her father would make a recovery. Treatments were set to start right away. 

“Mom, I’m coming home.”

“Honey, we know you’ve got traveling plans. We’ll be fine. We don’t want to interrupt your-”

“Mom, I can’t do much traveling with this virus. Dad is more important than any of that, anyway. I’m coming home.”

JJ cried when Anna hung up the phone. Mike was rough around the edges, and he was resistant to Kiara dating a Maybank, but once JJ won him over, he treated him like a son. Hearing this news was a punch to the gut - it was like losing a father. Even in the midst of his sadness he knew Kiara would be sent into a tailspin.

Hey. You okay?

She was typing in response, then nothing. He waited, seeing the little bubble pop up again and again and fade away each time. And then she videocalled. She hadn’t called him in months - not since they parted ways. The little screen showed her in her car, only illuminated by her dim phone screen and the passing street lights. Tears stained her cheeks, but she kept her eyes trained on the road. “I’m not okay.”

“You’re driving right now?”

“I’m coming home.”

“Kiara, pull over. It’s late. Get some sleep.”

“I can’t. They caught it late - he might… who knows how much time I have-”

“Kie.” His voice was soft. He was always soft toward her.

Her face crumpled as the tears fell fresh. He let her cry. He talked to her about nothing and everything as her tears subsided. She cried as she drove through the night, talking to him when she was calm, crying harder when the conversation lulled. She didn’t stop until she noticed he’d fallen asleep, the video call still rolling. It was after four in the morning. The pang of nostalgia that tore through her was enough to make her catch her breath. They hadn’t talked like that since they first started dating. A few tears sneaked out of the corners of her eyes, but she couldn’t tell if the memories or the fear of the future caused them. She found a safe place to park and fell into a fitful sleep in the back of her car. 

She made it home just in time for her dad’s first surgery. JJ met her and her mother at the hospital parking lot, all masks and six-feet of distance until she said, “I could really use a hug.” The three of them colliding into a group hug within seconds. 

JJ made sure the Carreras didn’t need anything as Mike went through chemo and more and more hospital stays. He ran errands for them since none of them could risk going out and bringing anything home. He did yard work since Mike hated an unkept lawn. Kiara always made sure to leave him snacks and drinks on the back deck as the North Carolina heat stretched into October. Aside from that, he willingly put himself at Anna’s beck and call. Anything and everything she needed done, he jumped at the opportunity to help. He would even come over in the evenings to play cards with Mike - masks included. Kiara’s heart ached as she watched her parents get along with him so well. She hadn’t realized how far he had wormed his way into their little family, but here they were, acting as though nothing had changed between him and their daughter, loving him like a son. He praised her mom’s cooking until she blushed and there were times he could make her dad laugh so hard they all forgot for a moment that cancer existed. Those moments were fleeting and oh-so cherished. 

Mike deteriorated quickly. It made Kiara sick to see her father become a cancer-wasted shell of himself. As optimistic as the doctors had been originally, the treatments weren’t taking well. As chemo wrapped up, his numbers were still dangerously high. November brought another emergency surgery that confirmed their worst fears. Mike moved home. They were told all that was left was to manage the pain and make him as comfortable as they could. They had perhaps a month left. JJ moved into the guest room to be as close as possible in case anything was needed from him. The four of them were left waiting as Thanksgiving approached. 

Kiara wasn’t sleeping. Maybe it was knowing her ex-boyfriend was staying down the hall from her, though that was an odd thing to focus on. More likely, it was the fact that her father was passing away right before her eyes, slipping through her fingers as she stood by, helpless. The sun had set hours ago, and she sat with a now-cold cup of tea in front of her at the kitchen table, mulling over each crazy event that had led her to this point. 

JJ wandered into the kitchen, opening the fridge to inspect the contents. “What are you doing up so late?” he asked.

“I could ask you the same thing.” The words came out harsher than she had intended, but then again, she was exhausted in every single sense of the term.

JJ brushed off her roughness. “Hungry. Did you eat dinner?” He knew she hadn’t, so he set about making an extra sandwich.

After a few moments of silence, Kiara whispered, “It’s all my fault.”

“What?”

“It’s my fault,” she repeated, her lip trembling. “I always kept track of his appointments for him. He was always shit at remembering to go to the doctor. He should have had one last year, but I didn’t come home and I didn’t remind him. If I hadn’t broken up with you, I would have been here to remind him to go.” Tears shone in her eyes and on her cheeks.

JJ gave her a quizzical look, deciphering what she was saying. “I seem to recall being the one who left. But really none of this is anyone’s fault,” he kept his voice even, wanting nothing more than to hug her, to wipe away all the tears, and make sure she never had to shed another one again.

“I know, I know, it’s ridiculous, but it’s what keeps running through my head.” She reached up and readjusted the messy bun that her hair was falling out of. “But, for the record, I asked you to leave.” JJ raised an eyebrow as she said this, as though he didn’t believe her. The truth was, neither of them really remembered who had dumped who or why he had left in the first place. Nothing happened that they couldn’t work out with a little bit of effort. “Didn’t I?” she faltered.

He shrugged. “I don’t remember.”

“We just fought a lot, didn’t we?”

“Constantly. You were a bitch.”

She turned to him, mouth open. She slapped at his shoulder, “I know you did not just call me a bitch, bitch!”

He smirked at her. “Maybe you weren’t that bad. Apparently, I was a slob.”

“You are a slob,” she chuckled. Then she sighed and moved to heat up her tea. “But that’s no reason to dump someone. We just… fell out of love, I guess.”

“I didn’t.” His voice was so soft he was barely even sure he had spoken. Based on the way Kiara froze, her back tense, he’d definitely said those private thoughts aloud.

She turned slowly, her face pale with lack of sleep and - something else. Was that anger? Or sadness? “You’ve had more than a year to confess something like that to me, and you choose now?”

JJ shrugged helplessly, unsure of what to say.

“That was the issue all along, wasn’t it?” Kiara’s voice shook, but she kept her tone cool, even. “You wouldn’t communicate with me.”

“Oh, come on, Kie, that’s not fair.” It was too late for a fight. They were both tired and emotional. This wouldn’t end well.

“What’s not fair?” Her voice had started to rise in volume and pitch as her anger increased. She wasn’t even sure why she was angry in the first place, but something about JJ’s confession caused her blood to boil. “The fact that you didn’t admit you still loved me when you left over a year ago? Or the fact that you choose to admit that to me while I’m exhausted and emotionally compromised?”

“Don’t be like that! That’s not what I’m doing.” JJ tried to keep his voice lower than hers, so they wouldn’t wake Mike or Anna, but the way her eyes flashed told him that wouldn’t happen. He grabbed her bicep and led her out to the backyard.

“Let go of me!” She pulled away from him, trying to hide the shiver that ran up her spine in the cool November evening air. “You don’t get to manhandle me and manipulate me into falling back into your arms like nothing happened.”

“That’s not-“ JJ ran his hands through his hair, frustrated. “You know I’m shit at communicating this stuff.”

“At saying ‘I love you?’ At being emotionally present? Listen, I know your dad was fucked up and he fucked you up, but you’re a grown-ass man now. You could have learned how to be there for me!”

“Don’t bring him into this!” They’d had this fight a million times before. The recurring theme of their demise being communication. Their fire had been sputtering under the faulty system they had in place long before they realized what their problems were - it was something neither of them wanted to admit. “Fuck it, Kie, even if I had wanted to get any better at communicating, you were no help. You held every single one of my mistakes over my head. There was no road to redemption for you.”

“No, no that’s not true. I tried to help you-“

“Only telling me what I did wrong wasn’t helpful.”

She opened her mouth and closed it again, stuttering in anger. “Well… if you still loved me so much, why did you leave?”

“Why stay when I knew you didn’t love me anymore?” JJ’s voice dropped and he avoided eye contact with her. 

Her eyes grew wide in realization. “You know what? Fuck you! I loved you until the day you left. If I had known you weren’t coming back I would have fought harder to keep you with me, and if you’re too dense to see-” He cut her words off, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her roughly. She melted into him, a single tear squeezing itself from her eye. He tasted of a coconut flavored vape pod and nicotine and the sea. He was just as stupid and lovely as ever. It only lasted a moment before she shoved at his chest, clearing her throat and turning from him to hide the blush rising to her cheeks. 

“I’m… I’m seeing someone,” she muttered by way of explanation.

“Oh.” JJ licked his lips, missing her more than he had before he kissed her. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know. Who is it? Why aren’t they here?” He hadn’t meant to add that last part, but he was curious. Who could she be seeing that wouldn’t support her during all of this? Who could she want to be with that wasn’t there, like he was?

“Um, her name’s Fern. I asked her not to come. I didn’t want her to meet my dad this way.” She started to walk toward the door, wrapping her arms around herself in the cold November evening air. 

“Kie,” JJ called after her. She turned slightly, to catch his eye out of the corner of her own. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything… I fucked a lot of things up. And I’m sorry about your dad.”

She nodded. “Me too.” With everything, she added mentally, and he knew she had.

Kiara and JJ wordlessly promised each other that they wouldn't let their differences ruin the upcoming holidays. So Thanksgiving passed uneventfully. It was almost a normal Carrera family holiday, besides the fact that Anna and JJ did most of the cooking. Mike tried once or twice to wander into the kitchen, but he didn’t make it long before having to sit back down. Kiara made him comfortable on the couch and they watched what little football was playing. She was sure to commentate on each play alongside him. The four of them ate extreme amounts of food, and laughed and played games. “Tomorrow we go get our Christmas tree,” Mike announced at the end of the night. Kiara bit her lip and glanced at JJ. He shrugged half-heartedly.

“That’s right, baby,” Anna replied, looking meaningfully at the others. 

And they did. They didn’t travel to the mountains, like other years, but they did go down to the local tree lot. Kiara made a big fuss about finding the fattest tree and over-scrutinized each one until she found the perfect Christmas tree, just like always. JJ had spent holidays with the Carrera’s before, but he had never been so intimately involved in all of their traditions. He thought Christmas might just become his favorite holiday at this rate. 

The weeks leading to Christmas weren’t all smooth sailing. Just a few days after Thanksgiving Mike was confined almost exclusively to a hospital bed in the living room. A nurse moved in a few days after that. He slept fitfully if he slept at all, and most days, the pain (or the pain medication) kept him from interacting with the rest of them. Kie would read to him in the evenings, starting with A Christmas Carol. He fell asleep after only a few paragraphs each time, so it took a long while to get through the story. All four of them watched classic Christmas movie after classic Christmas movie - many of which JJ hadn’t ever seen (to which Anna always replied, “That’s going on our list, then!”). Mike managed to stay awake for the entirety of Elf, his favorite. 

Christmas day was quiet. JJ cooked breakfast for everyone, and Anna gushed about how good his cooking had gotten. They had opted not to exchange gifts this holiday, instead filling their stockings with all their favorite candies and snacks. It had been JJ’s idea, and Kiara thought he might have been a secret genius for suggesting it. In the afternoon, Fern called Kie and they talked for over an hour. JJ thought she looked satisfied when she returned, but nowhere near as happy as one should be when they got off a long conversation with their girlfriend. It was probably just the current circumstances. She didn’t say anything other than, “What’s the next movie, Dad?”

Mike died two days after Christmas. He went in his sleep, which was exactly what he had wanted. No fuss, no doctors trying desperately to save him. Just a good night’s sleep where he peacefully breathed his last. He didn’t look the same as he once had. Cancer had changed him so drastically, his once strong imposing frame a mere shadow of its former glory. But his face was smoothed out, lines of pain, grief, and illness wiped away, leaving simply peace. He could have been asleep, but now he would never wake up. Looking at him, Kiara felt like she was drowning. Like every breath she fought to take just filled her lungs with more and more water. Her dad was her rock, and now she was sinking in a wide, dark ocean. She thought she might never breathe again. 

The funeral was tiny - it was only close family that attended - three days after he passed. The sky was clear and blue and the air was cold, typical North Carolina winter. It had snowed the day before, just a bit, so the ground was frozen and white. It could have been beautiful if it wasn’t so heartbreaking. Anna didn’t cry that day. She said she had cried enough. The snow started falling again that evening, once they got home, and she said that was Mike’s way of telling her he loved her. She loved the snow.  

JJ went back home the day after the New Year. Anna told him to stay as long as he wanted, but he said it was time for him to move on. She understood, hugged him tightly before he went, admonishing him to come around often. He said he would, and promised to help with anything she needed around the house, too. Kiara sat huddled on the front porch in a rocking chair, wrapped in a thick blanket with a cup of hot cocoa as he walked out. “You’re not going to say goodbye?” he teased kindly. 

She looked up at him, her eyes still bloodshot and sorrowful. He wanted to hold her. He wished she had never had to go through any of this. She didn’t deserve it. “I don’t know what to say,” she said. “You’ve done so much for us.”

JJ shook his head. “It was selfish. I thought if I was nearby maybe it wouldn’t happen.”

“It was anything but selfish,” She insisted, standing up and wrapping the blanket tighter around her shoulders. She placed a cold hand on his cheek. “Really, J. We couldn’t have made it through any of this without you.”

JJ might have leaned too deeply into her touch, no matter how cold her hands were. It somehow felt colder when she moved away. He cleared his throat. “So what’re your plans now? Getting back on the road?”

“Not until spring. Mom won’t admit it, but she’s not ready to be alone. She’ll need some help coping. And honestly, I’m not itching to leave.”

“I thought you’d wanna skip out as soon as possible. Doesn’t Fern miss you?”

She squinted her eyes but didn’t say anything in response. “I’ll miss having you around, Maybank.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll still be around. I think your mom will institute Sunday dinners or some shit if I don’t come over regularly.”

Kie chuckled. “She really loves you. Dad does - did, too.” Her voice broke slightly.

“I love them, too,” JJ said, honestly. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before picking up his bags and leaving. Kiara caught her breath as his lips brushed her skin, warmth spreading from where he made contact. Her wide eyes stayed glued to his figure as he loaded up his truck and drove away. 

If normal could be achieved after a year like the Carrera women had experienced, they worked their hardest to achieve it. Anna threw herself into caring for the Wreck and it had the best off-season it had had in years. Kiara wrote songs and worked alongside her mother and even took some online classes. Anna did indeed institute Sunday dinners with JJ and he came to as many of them as he could. Life was slow to move forward, but Kie and Anna kept each other afloat, reminding themselves that Mike wouldn’t have wanted them to sit still crying over him. Step by step they picked up the pieces of their lives. 

Things went along this way for a couple months or so. The world was calming down, but not fully quiet yet - when was the world ever quiet? Kiara never thought she could enjoy the quiet slow life that was the Outer Banks during the off-season, but after the year she’d had, she wanted nothing more than simple domesticity. She said as much during one of their Sunday dinners, enticing a knowing smile from her mother and a surprising lack of eye contact from JJ. She cornered him on the back deck when he’d stepped out to smoke. She was grateful they had regained some of the ease their friendship had carried when they were younger. “Okay, what was that all about?”

He chewed on his lip, twisting his cigarette between his fingers. He’d given up weed a while back when they were traveling, out of necessity, but she was secretly glad he’d never taken it up again. “I’m leaving,” he said abruptly. 

“Leaving? Going where?” 

“Not sure yet. My cousin’s gonna watch the shop for me. Travel the states for a bit until it’s safer to leave the country. Then Mexico? Maybe.”

“When will you be back?” 

He shrugged, “Don’t know. Not for a long time.”

“Why?” Her mouth had gone dry and her words had run out. JJ was a die-hard salt-lifer. He might pack up and leave occasionally, but the Outer Banks was home, where he belonged. She thought that no matter where he went, he’d always end up back here. Home. How could he leave now?

He turned to look at her, urgency and honesty shining in his eyes. “I know he was your dad, and I probably don’t have the right to feel this way, but I…” 

“You lost him, too,” she said, understanding.

“Need a change of scenery.” He shrugged again, putting out his cigarette before walking back inside. 

Kiara understood better than most the need to keep moving, the change of scenery a welcome distraction. Traveling alone left a lot of time to think and soul-search. She didn’t peg JJ as the soul-searching type, but grief changed people; he needed time. She could support him in that.

“You’re going with him, right?” Anna asked sternly as she and her daughter washed dishes that evening. JJ had just left. 

“What?” Kiara nearly dropped the plate she was drying. 

“JJ told me all about his plans. Getting out of here for a while will be good for him!” She waved a hand over her shoulder, dismissing Kiara’s shocked expression. “He talks to me, too, you know? Always has.”

Kiara chuckled lightly, “So even though he and I broke up, he never broke up with y’all?”

“You shouldn’t have broken up with him.”

Kiara’s heart stopped for a moment, as she processed what her mother had said. “What do you mean?” She started slowly. “I thought you didn’t approve of me dating someone from the Cut.”

Anna sighed, setting down a half-washed pan. She turned to her daughter. “Your dad and I always wanted what was best for you. We thought that meant college, a solid career, marrying up. But we realized recently that that is never what life’s about.” She reached out and took Kiara’s hands, tears starting to shine in her eyes. “Your dad was from the Cut. When we first got married, we had nothing except each other but being with him was the best decision I ever made. He made me happy. I think I made him happy, too.”

“You definitely made him happy, Mom. But JJ and I fought all the time, we couldn’t sort things out.”

Anna scoffed, “Your dad and I fought, too. Fights happen, but you have to realize you’re not fighting each other, you’re a team fighting the problem. Once you figure that out, you can work through anything.”

Kiara shook her head, but she had a soft smile on her lips. “Mom, I just don’t know.”

Anna smiled, tearfully. “That is what life’s about. Nobody knows! What really matters is who is there to walk with you in the unknown. Who is there for you when you need them? Through the good and the bad. Your dad was that person for me.” She paused and looked at Kiara meaningfully, “So I’ll ask again: are you going with him?”

She shouldn’t, but while considering all of this somehow she felt freer. Her father had just died, she should still be mourning him, and yet she knew that he wouldn’t want her to wallow - she had to pick herself up. You knew this was coming, she heard his voice in her head. She hoped she would never forget what that voice sounded like. You knew I was going. Now that I’m gone, you’re free to live your life again. Live it, Kiara.

JJ finished buying his ticket for the ferry. It was cold out, more snow on its way. He had some time to kill before loading up his truck, but not much. He double-checked the straps on his luggage in the bed of the truck and was just beginning to contemplate how to pass the time when he heard his name being called. He turned to see Kiara running toward him, backpack bouncing wildly on her back. She was all flushed cheeks and shining eyes and curls tumbling around her shoulders. 

“I broke up with Fern,” her words came out in a rush as she drew near him before he could even greet her. “I broke up with her months ago.”

“O-okay,” JJ replied, heart pounding. A million thoughts ran through his mind. He had just seen Kiara, why hadn’t she mentioned it then? Or before then? Why had she come all the way here to tell him that?

“And I’m coming with you,” she continued. 

“What?” JJ wasn’t one to be lost for words, but he couldn’t say anything else. 

“You make me happy. When the world went to shit you were the one person I wanted to know was safe. You were there for me and my whole family in the darkest few months of our lives and you really cared about us. I don’t care that we fought or that we will fight because being with you makes me happier than I ever thought possible.”

If she was going to say anything else, her words were swallowed up when he kissed her, hands cupping her cold cheeks. “I love you,” he said when she pulled back to breathe. “I never stopped. I didn’t know how to fight for you, how to stay, but I’ll do better. I can be better.”

She pressed another kiss to his lips. “Shut up, we’ll figure it out. We can do it right this time.” 

Sometimes things die. It’s a sad cycle. The brightest fires turn cold and gray. But with time, new sparks can settle in that bed of ash. With care a new fire can start, burning brighter than before. So, even though things sometimes die, sometimes those dead things lead to an even more beautiful beginning.

[thiswasinevitableid]

winter prompt fill 5, indruck, nsfw?

5: your car slid into a snowbank and i’m the mechanic that comes to tow you

Two hours.

Two fucking hours, that’s how far this guy is from town. But because he’s three hours from the one to the west, it’s Duck’s company that got the call from AAA for a tow. On night three of what's forecasted as a week-long snowstorm.  And because it’s that kind of job, the call came in at 4:45 pm. At least he’ll get overtime for this. 

Being out of Kepler means the radio has real stations, half of them playing blocks of pop hits and the other half blaring Christmas carols. Duck doesn’t mind either, settles on listening to crooning about sleigh bells and winter wonderlands as he tries to keep the truck from sliding into snow piles. 

He’s all prepared to be aggravated at whoever was clueless enough to get themselves stranded and stick him with the four hour round-trip, but the closer he gets to his destination the more he sympathizes. Because this is a rural two-lane highway and not a major through-road, the maintenance is spotty at best. Couple that with the still-falling snow and he’s just glad the guy was in the kind of accident where he could still make a call after it.

The last half-hour he’s down to thirty miles an hour, lets out a groan of relief when the dead  taillights of a car reflect back at him. Once he positions the truck and hops out, he rolls his eyes; the sedan doesn’t have snow tires or chains on, something even a person with a Nevada license plate should have known to carry north.

Duck wonders if being unprepared is a habit when the driver steps out in far too light a coat for the weather, shuddering and stuttering out an “Th-thank g-goodness.”

“Guessin you’re Mr. Wilde?” 

Pale hair falls over red glasses as the man nods. With his hood up, he looks owlish, guarded. He’s all limbs and edges, and Duck can’t help but think of a stray cat that needs a warm bed and some food. 

“Go ahead and get up into the passenger seat. Heat ain’t runnin, but it’s sure as heck warmer than out here. I’ll get her hitched up and we can get going.”

Another nod, the man hunching forward as he scurries into the truck. This is the easy part, getting the damaged car hooked to the truck and freeing it from the snow. The hard part comes when they turn towards town, two hours of darkness and icy roads ahead of them. 

“I’m so sorry you had to come all this way. I, ah, did not intend to crash, nor to do so this far from help.”

“Hey, it’s what we’re here for. Gonna be slow goin on the way back, since it’ll be real fuckin embarassin to call a tow truck for a tow truck.”

A snicker, “I picture them as growing exponentially larger, like nesting dolls. A tow truck towing a tow truck towing a tow truck towing a car would be the size of a semi.”

Duck chuckles, “Yeah, it’d be a sight. And a fuckin nightmare for anyone who got behind it.”

The cab is warming nicely, so his passenger pulls back his hood. In the darkness he can tell the pale hair is metallic silver, and there’s a hell of a bruise blooming on his forehead. Duck’s never seen anyone quite like him, and if their survival didn’t depend on his concentration, he’d spend the next hour studying him.

“Damn, got banged up in the crash huh.”

“Yes.” The man gingerly touches the bruise, sighs, “It’s my own fault for being careless.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, nearly spun out on the way to get you from the damn black ice.”

“I wish I could say that was the sole cause, but I was also asleep.”

Duck bites back the urge to scold him; he wants him to be comfortable around him and besides, even if Duck is having a crappy night, this guy is having an even worse one.

“Wouldn’t be the first person who thought they could make it one more town before stoppin for the night and was wrong.”

“True. It’s just that, ah, I’ve been driving three days straight without sleep.”

“Jesus Christ, you on the lamb or somethin?”

In his periphery, he swears the taller man flinches. 

“No. Just having bad luck with a chaser of poor choices.”

“Gotcha.” Duck drums on the wheel, “so, uh, Mr. Wilde, what do you do when you ain’t stuck in the snow?”

“I draw. And Indrid is fine…” he peers awkwardly at Duck’s name tag, “Duck.”

“It’s a nickname.”

“Ah. Are you a mechanic as well as a driver?”

“Yep. Do it part-time when I’m not workin at the national forest. Friend of mine, Ned, runs the garage attached to the Cryptonomica.”

“I recall seeing that when I drove through. Quite the Jacks of all trades, you two,”

“Most of Kepler’s got more’n one job. It’s the kind of place that’s always losin fundin or people, just barely stayin afloat.”

“One sympathizes. Do you like your jobs?”

“Trained in forestry, so it’s always what I’ve wanted to do. The mechanic stuff,” Duck shrugs, “nice workin with my hands and beein able to help folks out. And I ain’t half bad at it.”

“I certainly appreciate your efforts. I--wait, hold on, I’m sorry but I need to…” he turns up the radio, playing what Duck assumed was Santa Baby from the melody.

“He is saying ‘buddy.’ What in the world? Why would you change it?”

“Can’t have the fella in the red velvet suit thinkin you’re gay.” Duck jokes. 

“Heaven forbid.” Indrid smiles, and Duck likes the expression so much he decides to see if he can get him to do it again.

“You wanna hear a slightly inappropriate joke?”

“Absolutely.”

“How come Santa don’t have any kids?”

“How come?”

“Because he only comes once a year and it’s down a chimney.”

There’s a beat and then Indrid guffaws, covering his face with his hands as his whole body shakes with amusement, “that was horrible, do you have any more?”

Thank god he’s got a wealth of bad jokes tucked in his brain. When he exhausts those he and Indrid trade brainteasers, stopping now and then to talk about their lives. The taller man asks Duck about his jobs, about the woods, and the town, and offers a few anecdotes in exchange. Duck senses they’re about they’re set in a time in his life that’s further away than Indrid would like. 

Indrid also readily shares the snacks from his small backpack. Duck eats what he can while still safely piloting the car. Then nearly takes them across the yellow line when Indrid unwraps a Starburst with his tongue, and prays the man will stay in Kepler long enough for Duck to take him to dinner.

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

Given he was expecting a painfully awkward trip at best, Duck’s friendliness is a welcome surprise. Now that they’ve been stuck in the car together for close to two hours, Indrid is confident saying this is most fun he’s had talking to someone in a long time, even before things went all to hell. 

It helps that Duck is the picture you’d get if you googled “Indrid Cold’s type”; sturdy, handsome in an unassuming way, undoubtedly pleasant to cuddle, with muscles that Indrid is positive could hold him up against a wall for at least a few minutes. In another life, one that’s so far away he fears he imagined it, he’d wait until they were done with the business portion of this evening, then slip Duck a card with his name in silver letters and his hotel room number on the back. The man is so genuine in his kindness too, Indrid feeling safer in the dark with him than he’s felt in years.

Which makes him feel even worse about what he’s going to do.

“Not too far now.” Duck turns the windshield wipers up a notch, “thank fuck for that.”

Indrid curls forward, holding his stomach, “I, ah, I really hate to say this, but I’m afraid my gas station lunch is coming back up.”

“Shit, okay, lemme pull over.” Duck guides the truck onto the side of the road, “do what you gotta do.”

His hands are on his lap, keys still dangling from the ignition. Indrid lunges over, grabbing them and trying to shove Duck into the door in one go. The mechanic is too fast, yanking the keys to his chest.

“What the fuck man!?”

“I’m so sorry about this!”

“Then fuckin stop!” Duck kicks, misses, and Indrid knees him in the stomach as gently as he can.

“I can’t, I need the truck.”

“Are you fuckin car-jackin me right now?”

“It’s not personal.” He gets the keys away, only for the world to flip ninety degrees as Duck tackles him backwards.

“It sure feels like it is!”

Indrid hoped that his survival instincts would kick in hard enough to make up for the exhaustion and that coupled with the element of surprise would bring him success. Instead, his limbs have no power behind them, and all he can do is curse when the driver flips him onto his stomach, trapping his hands behind his back and pinning him with his body weight. 

“Fuck.” It’s a pathetic noise for a pathetic man.

“Explain. Now.” Duck growls.

“I, I, you were right when asked if I was on the lamb.”

“....fuckin what?”

“It was a set up, and I finally, finally got free, and, and I will not go back, I can’t, but if I’m out a car I need a replacement and-”

“And you almost stole a truck that’s got a goddamn tracker in it.”

“Oh.” He presses his face to the seat in shame.

“Somethin tells me you ain’t a seasoned crook.”

“I’m not a criminal at all! I have no idea what I’m doing. I was just going to drive and drive until I hit the coast, I hadn’t even decided what to do after. I, I’m sorry, I waited until we got close to town so you wouldn’t be too far away to walk home safely. I, ah, I wasn’t prepared for having to do this to someone I like.”

Duck shifts above him, mutters, “what the fuck do I do now” to himself, and tightens his hold on Indrid’s wrists. 

Indrid whimpers, realizing with horror that his body responded to the mechanics of the fight but not it’s context.

Duck freezes at the noise, and when Indrid hazards a peek the mechanic is staring down in disbelief. 

“Are you fuckin hard from this?”

There’s no use in lying, he’s faced worse humiliation than this, “Some. Not on purpose. I, ah, I enjoy rough treatment.”

Duck’s face fills with bitter amusement, “And I like givin it. But not to fellas who nearly steal my truck. Fuckin figures the first guy to flirt with me is doin it for some other reason.”

“That’s not true, my plan involved no flirting.” Indrid huffs, “I was flirting because I think you’re handsome.”

More pressure on his back as Duck leans down to whisper in his ear, grinding against his ass, “Yeah? Were you hopin I’d fuck you in here? Or over the hood when we got back?”

“Maybe.” He manages a smirk.

“Hopin I’ll fuck you now?”

Indrid nods, but Duck doesn’t notice. The mechanic sits all the way back, releasing his hands, “too damn bad, because unlike you, I only take things with permission.”

“C-consider it granted.” 

The hand finds his back again, but instead of shoving or grabbing it strokes up and down, “Indrid, I’m serious. I ain’t doin anythin if the only reason you’re offerin is because you think I’ll hurt you if you don’t.”

“I’m not. I want this, Duck, I want to be with you.” He’s going back to jail one way or another after this, unwilling to consider the thought of hurting Duck to get the keys. He’d rather go back with one happy memory and a few minutes of fun freshly stored in his mind. 

There’s silence, Duck’s hand still as he thinks. Then it comes down hard on Indrid’s ass, “Okay sugar, happy to oblige you. Besides, seems to me you owe me an apology for that sorry excuse for a car theft.” 

Indrid moans loudly when Duck hauls onto his elbows and knees, though it’s the pet name that hits deeper than any of the much-welcome pain. The waistband of his dollar store sweatpants hits his thighs, there’s a pop of something plastic, and then a slick finger is teasing between his asscheeks. 

“Vaseline. Great for keepin your skin from cracking in the cold.”

The finger disappears and he whines, pushing his ass back and getting it slapped so hard he yelps. 

“Nice try. But this ain’t for you, it’s for me. Don’t got a condom and only got a tiny bit of this left and it ain’t enough to fuck you full on.”

“It’s alright, I like the pain, you could use spit or-”

“Nope” another slap, “that turns into the bad kinda pain real quick. Now open your fuckin legs.”

Indrid does so, gasps happily when Duck slides his lubed-up cock between his thighs. 

“Close ‘em and keep ‘em closed. Good, ohfuckyeah that’s good.” The thrusts are already fast, Ducks hands holding his hips in place, “fuck, tell you what sugar, you may be a shitty crook but you’re a damn good lay.”

“Yes.” Indrid moans, scrabbling for a hold on the upholstery.

“Shit, you do like it rough. Like it when I talk like that?” One hand comes down, petting Indrid’s head and brushing his hair away from where it’s stuck over his eyes. 

“So much, Duck, please, please, more, I want more AHgod!” Tears slip past his glasses as Duck hits the right side of his ass over and over again. He’s been treated like a criminal mastermind, made miserable because of it, so being nothing more than an eager piece of ass is a welcome change.

“Then I oughta tell you this is what you get for tryin to get one over on me. Think you can throw my ass out in the cold? Gonna turn yours so red you won’t be able to sit for a week.”

He’s so hard it isn’t even funny, and beneath the wonderful cycle of pain-relief-pain-relief his mind chants safesafesafesafe.

“Fuck, Indrid, I’m so fuckin lucky you tried that stunt on me, can’t wait to cum all over that cute little ass, ohyeah, fuck, fuckyeah.” He pulls out, cum spurting onto Indrid’s ass and legs and Indrid hears his own voice saying “thank you” as he does. 

As he’s contemplating what form of begging will earn him an orgasm, he’s flipped onto his back, one calloused hand pressing him down by the shoulder while the other jerks him off. He squeaks and squirms, one palm thwacking into the door as his right leg catches the steering wheel. 

“Sensitive, sugar?”

“Yes.”

“Shoulda thought of that before you bent over for me.”

“TechnicallyAH, you, you’re the one who bent me over.”

Duck jerks him extra hard in reply, grinning. The sight of him is just the right balance of menacing and protective that Indrid only needs two more bucks of his hips before he’s cumming. The mechanic works him through it, squeezing him roughly just to hear him whimper (Indrid’s certain of it).

He sits back and starts putting his clothes in order as Indrid lays there, panting from exertion and the weight of reality on his chest. 

“I don’t suppose you have something I can, ah, wipe off with before you take me to the station?” He asks softly.

“I’m not taking you to the police, Indrid.”

“What? Why?” He bolts up, his mind screaming that he shouldn’t ask too many questions lest it make Duck change his mind. 

“I’m not sure what kinda guy fucks someone and then hands them over to the cops, but I’m damn sure I don’t wanna be one.”

“You’d do that without even knowing the full truth?”

“Wouldn’t mind if you told me.” Duck starts the car, adds “seatbelt” as he pulls back onto the road. 

Indrid gets his pants up and buckles in, huddling in on himself, “As you probably guessed, my name isn’t Wilde. It’s Indrid Cold. Wilde was the man I stole that car from, who also had a very nice AAA plan it seems. I am, or was, an architect. Quite talented, if I do say so myself. And many other people said so, once upon a time. My firm got a contract with a certain large city to design and help build a bridge. I was head of design, and I was certain this would be the project that made my name. It did. Just not how I hoped.”

Duck slows down as they reach the edge of Kepler. 

“Have you ever heard of the Silverlake Bridge?”

“Ain’t that the one that collapsed a few years agooh, oh shit was that your bridge?”

“Yes. Halfway through the project, I became concerned that certain elements of the design would not be as stable as they needed to be and might collapse without warning. The higher ups said it would require a larger budget to do the new, far safer design, but gave me the go ahead to finish my proposal of the securer model. They accepted that design, and I thought that was the end of it. Turns out, they funneled the money needed for the better bridge into their own pockets, both my bosses and the representatives from the city. Unbeknownst to me, they built the weaker bridge. When it collapsed I” he takes a deep breath, the memories surfacing in a tidal wave, “I was shocked, and prepared to accept responsibility, as I could not understand how the design failed. It was only when the investigation revealed how it failed that I understood my warnings had been ignored and I was being set up as a fall guy. Not only for the collapse, but for the missing funds, my bosses swearing up one side and down the other that they’d given the money to me to manage. They’d had this planned for months, and so had built our communication in such a way that I had no proof the money hadn’t come to me. Thus I was blamed, tried, and convicted, and in the minds of many I am responsible for the death of 67 people.”

The engine shuts off and he looks up to see them in an auto garage. Duck is turned to him, face so sad and sympathetic that Indrid could almost believe..

“You think I’m telling the truth.”

“I know you are. Not sure how, but even though I ain’t much of a liar myself, I can usually tell when someone is bullshittin me.”

“I don’t want to go back to prison.” 

“You won’t.”

“Duck I, I can’t ask you to hide me, that could put you in danger of arrest.”

“There’s all of four cops in Kepler, and I’d bet my life no one here could pick you out of a line-up as a ‘disgraced architect Indrid Cold.’ And if we need a cover story, Ned’s got a knack for ‘em.”

“We?”

Duck cups his cheek and Indrid leans into it, “You and me. Indrid, I think fate is a load of bullshit, but I can’t shake the feelin me pickin you up tonight was meant to be. Lemme help you, please.”

Indrid sets his hand on Duck’s own, “Okay. Ah, where do I stay? I have fifty dollars left.”

“Could stay with me if you want. No strings attached.”

“Is that your way of letting me down gently?”

“My way of saying you don’t gotta fuck me to have a place to live. If you wanna fuck me just because, say the word and I’ll rail you into next week.”

“I’d like both those things so very much. Though right now all I want is to sleep.”

Duck leans forward, kissing him so chastely that the following lovebite is all the more thrilling.

“In that case, sugar, let’s get you home.”

[purplesurveys]

1161

 survey by pichu4850

What color do you think of when I say...

Anger? Red, or a really bright red-orange.

Confusion? Gray.

Inspiration? Sky blue. Both word and color give off calming vibes to me.

Shy? Something like an off-white shade, and maybe even pastel pink.

Agony? Olive green was the first color to come to mind, though I have no idea why.

Sleep? Dark blue, like the night sky.

Chipper? Yellow.

Beautiful? Red, the way roses are.

Morning? Light blue or yellow.

Would you rather be named...

Andrea or Aimee? Andrea.

Emily or Erica? Emily. I know an Erycka that I’m not too fond of, so this is an easy pass.

Kelsey or Casey? Casey, though I’d mix up my name a bit and have it be pronounced and spelled as Cassie.

Madeleine or Marina? Eh, not really a fan of either but I’d mos likely go for Madeleine.

Alec or Aaron? Alec.

Ryan or Ross? Not a fan of both names as well though I’d probably go with Ryan, but only as a feminine name.

Dylan or Daniel? Dylan.

Jack or Jordan? I guess Jack, if I have to pick.

Gabriel or Gavin? Gabriel.

How often do you...

Brush your teeth? Once or twice a day.

Eat breakfast? Twice a week, during weekends; though sometimes I’ll end up skipping it for an entire week altogether.

Check your email? I literally never check my personal email anymore after having gotten hired, but I know I should quit that habit and check it every once in a while just in case an intriguing opportunity might come my way. My work email is a different story; I have to use it everyday. I open my emails even during weekends so that when I report to my shift on Monday, my Gmail won’t look as clogged.

Go to the mall? When quarantine protocols loosened up a bit I used to go either on Saturdays or Sundays for some me time as well as some much-needed time away from the house, for the sake of my mental health and sanity. But now that we’re going through another surge in cases, no one’s allowed to go out again and malls are back to just keeping the essential stores open.

Go to the beach? A few times a year, at least before the pandemic. I haven’t been to the beach since 2019.

Play card games? Only happens once in a blue moon, when I get together with friends and someone happens to bring a deck of cards. This isn’t a usual occurrence with any of my friend groups, though.

Have at least 20 minute phone calls? Never. I have 20-minute Google Meet and Zoom calls instead.

Paint your nails? They are never painted.

Wish you were happier? Every now and then.

Did you ever want to be...

A veterinarian? Yes, when I was younger. I once stumbled upon an interview with a horse vet on one of my kid’s almanacs and thought what they did was so cool.

An astronaut? Yup, definitely became a big obsession of mine at one point in my childhood. I still think it would be cool to go to outer space and should the opportunity ever become accessible in my lifetime, I wouldn’t want to miss out on it.

An artist? Not really. I knew from the get go I wasn’t meant to be one.

A school teacher? I would guess yes, but I definitely wasn’t as interested in teaching compared to being an astronaut or like a firefighter.

A housewife? Lmfao yeah. This was the answer I would give when I was like 8 up until I was probably 10 and I knew it stressed out my Asian mother big time. My grandpa got a kick out of it, though.

A firefighter? Yes. This was up there with astronaut.

A princess? Not so much.

A lawyer? I definitely considered law for a brief period, but it was already during my latter college years. There wasn’t enough time to mull over it. But hearing all the law school horror stories from my friends kind of made me relieved I didn’t push through with it; I knew I wasn’t passionate enough about law to want to go through all the hardships that come with law school, so I was fine letting that dream go, and still am.

A doctor? This was never a dream of mine.

Would you consider yourself...

Materialistic? Yes.

Pessimistic? It comes out occasionally, but I don’t think it’s a main trait of mine that people would generally see me as.

Avoidant? Not so much. I can be shy and anxious sometimes but I get over it at some point.

Sarcastic? Only occasionally. I wouldn’t say I speak the language.

Talkative? Definitely not. I hate being in the spotlight, and whenever it’s my turn to share a story or talk in a group I usually have the tendency to rush through it or make it as short as possible so as to return the spotlight on someone else. I’ve always been more of a listener.

Strange? Maybe not strange but weird to an extent?

Intelligent? I guess in some ways.

Lucky? In some ways I am, but I also got handed the short end of the stick in other contexts.

In the next twenty-four hours, will you...

Talk to someone you care about? Probably. I talk to at least one friend a day.

Go to work? Yep, I’ll finally be going back to work since the Holy Week break is over. My workaholic self felt kinda unsettled with all the free time, so I’m actually kinda relieved.

Go to school? I’m not in school anymore.

Be in a different city? Nope, it’ll be working from home for me like usual. We were initially allowed to book visits to the office if we really needed to go there to pack some goodies and stuff, but because of re-heightened Covid protocols our admin has once again prohibited anyone to go there for the meantime.

Read a book? I highly doubt it. I haven’t read any in months.

Watch a movie? Nope. It’ll be a Monday coming from a 4-day break, so it will be incredibly busy tomorrow as there would be a lot to catch up on.

Go to a dentist/orthodontist appointment? No, I won’t.

Do your laundry? My parents probably will seeing as our hamper was nearly full the last time I checked.

True or False: Family...

I have two brothers or more. I only have one brother.

My mom lives with me. This is technically true but isn’t phrased right in my case. I’m currently living with my parents.

My grandparent(s) live with me. No, we moved out of our duplex (where I did use to live with my grandparents) well over a decade ago.

I have half-siblings. Don’t have any.

I am the oldest in my family. Eldest child, that is.

I am an only child. I have two other siblings.

I have 15 cousins I can name off the top of my head. Easily. My first cousins are less than 15 in total, but I know a good number of my second and third cousins as well so this is a cakewalk.

The nearest Aunt or Uncle lives less than an hour away from me. The aforementioned duplex we moved out of is just at the next village; we didn’t move too far so that we can continue visiting them.

True or False: Food...

I am allergic to chocolate. I’m not, fortunately. I’m not crazy about chocolate but I’d be pretty miserable if I could never have it either.

I like vegetables more than fruit. Infinitely more, hahaha. I hate fruits.

I have tried pizza dipped in ranch sauce. Ranch isn’t a very common dressing where I’m from, so it’s not usually offered in restaurants. Given the chance, though, I’d definitely try my pizza with ranch at least once.

I've never eaten kiwi fruit. True, but then again I’ve never eaten most fruits and don’t plan to.

I love junk food.

I love to try new food.

Ketchup goes best with fries (chips). I don’t like ketchup and barely put it on anything.

I like fried rice. I haven’t met an Asian who doesn’t like fried rice.

I can prepare dinner for myself (using a stove or oven).

I hate sushi.

How many...

Pairs of shoes do you have? A little over 10, maybe? I don’t feel like counting in my head rn.

Songs do you have on your music player? I don’t have a music player anymore.

Hours of sleep did you get last night? Around 4.

Times have you had alcohol? Like, ever since I started drinking when I was 18? I never kept track lmao but if I would guess, maybe around 50-60 times? I’m not a regular drinker; I drink probably once or twice a month at most.

Books have you read/started reading in the past month? None.

Windows in your house/apartment are open? I know my parents and sister have their windows open at the moment, so that’s 2. Mine are usually open as well, but I’ve turned on my aircon so I’ve closed them for the night.

Pets do you have? 2.

Kids do you have/want to have? I’d cut it off a a maximum of 3 kids, but having just 1 would already be so nice.

Minutes does it take to get from your home to school or work? I work from home, but in the two times I went to the actual office it took anywhere between 45 minutes to an hour.

Have you ever...

Spilled a cup of grape juice on the carpet? I don’t think I’ve ever even encountered grape juice in my entire life.

Played spin the bottle? I don’t think I’ve ever played this. My friends and I usually resort to truth or dare.

Played Twister? Yes, and there are many fond memories that come with it as well. So when I was 7 years old I befriended Katreen, and her mom and mine hit it off instantly so they started this arrangement where every Friday, her mom picked me and my sister up from school along with Katreen and her sisters, and we’d stay for several hours at their place until my mom would pick us up. Her mom was an amazing host and every week we’d play Twister, watch Pokemon, read books together, etc; anything to keep us comfortable and entertained.

Been caught doing something you weren't supposed to be doing? It’s bound to happen every now and then.

Walked out of a movie because it was horrible? I’ve gotten this feeling a few times but I always stayed in my seat because I paid for the damn ticket.

Given the finger to someone on the street? Oh most definitely, as well as drivers passing by. And it’s always been towards men that are being disgusting pigs.

Been so sad/angry that you started laughing? Sure.

Been in a wedding? Yes, but I only got invited as a kid since I was usually picked to be one of the flower girls. I haven’t been to a family wedding since 2007.

Been in a situation where you almost died? Probably not died but almost substantially injured, sure.

Misc...

Are you stressing out about anything right now? Just worried about the deluge of tasks that will inevitably come at me tomorrow but knowing how easygoing my bosses are, I know I’ll be able to ease up soon enough.

Do you think before acting or act before thinking? I used to be the latter but I now see the importance of first considering possible consequences of or how others would be affected by my actions.

Do you act upon your emotions and instinct, or logic and reasoning? Again, I used to be one of these, this time the former. Now that I’m at a much more stable and peaceful place in my life I try not to let my emotions get the best of me.

What are some personality traits you find appealing in a potential partner? I had a number of negative experiences in my last relationship so forgive me for scraping the bottom of the barrel when it comes to my expectations lmaaaao – I’d love for someone to be sensitive to my needs and feelings, and for them to be able to own up to their mistakes or hurtful habits and know how to apologize and be open to changing if it’s for their self-improvement.

How have you changed as a person in the last 5 years? I tolerate less bullshit now. I think I’ve also grown to be happier and a lot more stable, emotionally. I also have a better sense of what I want out of life and where I want to be, and I’ve also learned to be more sociable and open up to people.

If you could do anything you wanted right this moment, what would it be? Order sushi :(

Is there anyone you can totally relax and be yourself around? Yes, that’s what my friends are for. If I can’t feel comfortable around my friends, I’d view that as a problem.

Did you ever wanted to say something to someone, didn't, and regretted it? No.

Are you scared about the future? I’m scared of the idea of not meeting some of my goals, like having a family; but I’m also excited about what the future could bring me.

[thequeenofadream]

Put the pieces together!! (Roger Taylor x Reader)

Summary:  nobody gave you anything for valentines, roger however got A LOT of letters/hallmark cards whether is be from fans or previous groupies. he decides to do something special for you.

Words: 1,569

Notes: angst angst angst FLUFFFFFFF

A/N: i’m back 💗

~~~~~~~~~

“Any plans for Valentine’s, (Y/N)?”

Valentine's day two days away, yet you remained hopelessly lonesome. It wasn’t that you weren’t looking for love, but more of you didn’t have time to do so. You were a production manager for Queen’s current tour and a few nights a city didn’t really give you time to maintain a stable romantic relationship. Sure, you had flirted and even stole some kisses, but it wasn’t anything truly special. It bothered you just the slightest bit, but not enough for you to quit your job. You were having the time of your life on the road and had become close friends with everyone. One person in particular, interested you a lot. Maybe once or twice or fifteen times you had tried to make a move on a blonde drummer, but he was always to busy with someone else.

You had zoned out for a minute or two and Freddie was starting to believe you hadn’t hear his question. You quickly shook off your thoughts and got back to the conversation.

“Uh yeah sorry Fred, no.” You sighed walking down the halls of the venue backstage, your book of ideas in hand. You were on your way to a meeting to discuss the show for tonight when freddie decided to walk with you. He stopped in his tracks upon hearing your answer.

“You, the great, beautiful and kind (Y/N), have not received at least a simple card?” He ask bewildered. You blushed at his ‘subtle’ compliments, not knowing what to say.

“I don’t really have anyone Fred. It’s just not priority number one, you guys are my priority number one” You giggled at your cheesiness, and desperation to lighten up the mood. He put a hand on his heart making an ‘Aw’ expression which only made you laugh harder.

“Seriously though, I know who ca-”

“Anyways I’ll have to talk to you later, you have soundcheck in about five minutes, don’t you?”

He rolled his eyes, seeing through your obvious excuse.You just smiled in response hoping he would drop the subject.

“Fine,  but this isn’t over.”

He suddenly walked the opposite direction and you were once again alone. A feeling you had gotten used to. The meeting was long, and dragged on for an hour or two; All you took away was that you should just stick with tonight’s plans and have a bomb-ass show. As everyone was exiting the room, you stayed behind, sketching some light arrangement for a future show. Suddenly, Jim, otherwise known as Miami Beach, walked into with stress evident on his face.

“What’s the stitch, Jim?”

“I think it’s better if you just see.”

Jim led you outside to see two giant garbage bags. You were visibly confused, but as soon as he opened one up, everything became clear. Valentine’s letters and cards. You needed more explanations, but you could somewhat understand what was going on. You looked back up at Jim, asking for more context.

“Well, It’s Valentine’s and as you can imagine, Mr. Rainbow Man, himself has accumulated quite the list of ‘potential’ Valentine’s.”

Of course. Everyone loved him and desperately tried to woo him into bed and it was just that time of year for that. It honestly annoyed you how he didn’t even have to try; hell, he even got you. It just didn’t seem fair to you.

“and why is all this a problem?” You didn’t really see it, you could just burn them all in fire. It just seemed absolutely harmless in your eyes. Unless you being emotionally hurt counted.

Jim pulled out one envelope and handed it to you. You opened it up to see a sincere and emotional letter from a fan to Queen. You didn’t want to read everything as it wasn’t yours, but what you had read touched your heart. It was then that the realization hit you. You couldn’t simply throw them all away, as some may be heartfelt letters from genuine fans amidst all the “booty calls” and sexual hallmark cards. You wouldn’t want to be the one to deal with all of it, and you weren’t.

“Well, give them to Roger.” You said simply. Now, it was Jim’s turn to be visibly confused. Before he could say another word, you continued.

“These were addressed to Rog, so we might as well fulfill their request.” Before he could respond, you grabbed both bags and marched right over to Queen’s dressing room. Jim followed closely behind, still not sensing your underlying rage. Something about the situation just made your blood boil. Jealousy perhaps?

You burst through the door, seeing the band doing the usual, scrabble.

“Oh hey (Y/N), wanna join us, please?” John squeaked desperately. You looked at the three other band members and saw tension rising among them from the game. You felt bad for him as he looked like he was going to suffocate with all the suspense. The rest then noticed you were in the room and saw the two bags.

“Uh what’s that?” Brian asked Jim, ignoring the game completely. Jim sighed, letting you explain.

“Delivery for Mr. Taylor.” You announced dropping both bags to floor and everything scattered about. You forgot they were open and didn’t mean for that to happen, but you decided to just go with it. John picked one up and read it out loud.

“I love spooning with you.” He paused and opened the card. “And Forking too.”

Everyone went into fits of laughter, except Roger.

“What am I supposed to do with them?” He asked evidently irritated.

“Well, some are fan letters, so if I were you I’d read every single one, just to be sure.” You smirked. Roger huffed in annoyance. Of course, he loved reading what fans had to say, but he did not want to revisit every one night stand he had possibly had. He didn’t care for them. He cared for someone else.

You were about to walk out in triumph when you heard him mumble something under his breath. You looked back furrowing your eyebrows, asking what he had said.

“I said at least someone loves me.”

And that stung. He wiped that smirk off your face, but at what costs? Suddenly, he was the one smiling. You just turned away and stormed out of the room. John and Jim went after you, making sure you wouldn’t cause anything catastrophic. Brian just looked at Rog disapprovingly, as Freddie started to speak up.

“You know she doesn’t have anyone.”

He didn’t realise that and he regret everything. He was just saying it jokingly, but he now saw that it wasn’t the right time. He never wanted to hurt you; Hurting you is the last thing he’d ever want to do. He felt like a flaming piece of garbage.

“I fucked up.”

“Well, make it up.”

He sighed, now he had two giant problems. He stared at the letters unsure of what to do, before a brilliant idea popped into his head. He grabbed a letter and started reading letters.

Two days later, it was valentine’s day. Queen had arranged a cupid themed love party after the concert, but you had opted not to go for obvious reasons. You were in bed, lazing about and drinking some wine when a knock came upon your hotel door. You let out an audible ‘ugh’.

You stood up and walked over to the door. You opened to see Roger, hiding something behind his back. You pinched the bridge of your nose. You did NOT want to deal with this right now. You had avoided him since the incident and you intended to keep it that way for a week more.

“What do you want?”

“To apologise.”

He held out an envelope, expecting you to take it. You hesitated for a moment before taking it. You opened it up to see a letter made up of cut-out letters, presumably from the valentine’s cards.

Dear (Y/N),

I’m sorry for hurting your feelings. You don’t need to forgive me, but I just really want to apologise. I never want to hurt you. Freddie told me about how you didn’t have anyone this Valentine’s, so I thought I could make this letter for you out of all the cards I got. I guess I’m trying to say that you deserve as much love as I get, if not more. I’d be honoured if you’d be my Valentine’s, so would you?

You looked back up to see Roger looking into your eyes, searching for any emotion or reaction. You couldn’t. You were stunned.

“(Y/N)?” He asked worriedly. He started panicking, thinking you wanted to slap him or tell him to get out of his life. A burst of butterflies exploded in your stomach which caused you to snap out of your trance, and crashed your lips onto his.

Your lips were soft against his, like a feather. A warmth grew between them, a domestic and homely one. It was sweet like pure honey. It was consoling to know that someone had loved and put effort into showing it. Your heart had just melted. You didn’t want it stop, but you both had to pull away to breathe. Your lips hovered, lingering near his waiting for your response.

“So I was wondering maybe I could take you out for some dinner?”

“You ditched the party for me?”

“Shut up.”

[mikami]

Death Note Audio Drama 07

Disc 7: Double Agents  - a summary / partial translation

Prior translations / an explanation as to what the fuck this is.

Honestly, not much new happens in this part, but there is some funny banter between Matsuda and Ivor (Aiber); and between Light and L.

_______

Ivor calls Shimura under the Coil name. Coil hints that L will soon discover Yotsuba as Kira as a ‘friendly warning’ type of thing. Shimura here is extremely generic and not anxious like normal Shimura at all.

_______

TITLE MUSIC

_______

A Yotsuba meeting. They discuss hiring Misa for image girl.They also brush over Hatori’s death by saying that they assume everyone will send ‘appropriate letters of condolence’ (Shimura asks what is ‘appropriate’ in this case, but is brushed off instantly).

Takahashi seems confused and eventually brings up that he thought at least one person would speak up against the murders. (Someone: “You want to agree with an opinion that nobody actually brought up?”) Takahashi, flustered, changes track to point out that it’s strange that nobody is really talking about Hatori’s death. (Someone: “Mr. Hatori’s death is something we are all painfully aware of. Appropriate letters of condolence, like was said.”)

They then agree that Kira is the one who killed Hatori and then wonder how Kira found out that Hatori wanted out. 

_______

Matsuda wants to arrest all Yotsubas on basis of these tapes, but L points out they don’t know who of them is Kira and Soichiro points out the video is not admissible in court.

Light and Soichiro don’t want to just let the murders happen. Light thus suggests contacting Namikawa to stop them.

______

NAMIKAWA: Knew I’d find you here, Kyousuke. 

HIGUCHI: I’m a refugee. A refugee for nicotine. 

NAMIKAWA: You got fire?

Cigarette lighting noises.

HIGUCHI: Better smoke fast, we’re almost at real estate and finances.

NAMIKAWA: Takahashi finally got his job done?

HIGUCHI: He’s apparently got a few numbers. Both of us can only guess what tethers them to reality.

Phone ringing. Namikawa picks up. It’s Light as L. The deal is pretty much the same as in the manga.

______

Takahashi and Mido supported the delay in killings, as we learn in an L and Watari conversation. L suddenly directs his suspicions to Light again, after Light was the one to find Yotsuba and take initiative here.

Watari accuses L of being envious of Light’s success, but L denies this and names Light a perfect successor candidate.

______

L comes to Misa’s room, Light is already in it with Misa. Light claims he interrupted them getting comfortable as far as possible in HQ. The rest of the conversation is just about L convincing Misa to help the investigation. Highlight is Misa calling Light her ‘cuddlebunny’. 

Though it’s funny because the way the job is described, Misa just sums it up like “So.... I need to let them give me presents. Support my career. Pay me.” :)

________

Higuchi points out that Rem has been uncharacteristically quiet last meeting. They then chat about hiring Misa to find L. Higuchi figures out that Misa was the friend Rem was talking about and that she was Kira II. He then decides to marry Misa.

________

Rehearsals for Misa’s job interview. She’s bad at acting and doesn’t actually want to be an actress, just a star. Ivor and Wendy help her rehearse, especially since Ivor (as ‘John Wallace’) is also going to be one of the interviewers. Wendy and Ivor try to explain to her that she and Ivor are double agents now, leading Misa to point out Namikawa is ALSO a double agent and present. “Will there also be people who aren’t doube agents?” she asks, and in this context, honestly it feels like a legit question.

There’s going to be Ooi, Shimura and Higuchi at the meeting as well though.

________

The actual interview. Wendy and L are listening. Wendy brings up that Misa has to adjust her female charms to the desire of all the older guys specifically, to be what they want, manipulate them. L does not believe in that stuff, Wendy basically verbally eyerolls at him for it.

The interview itself is uninteresting as far as new content is concerned.

________

Wendy is still annoyed at L not understanding women. (L: “Nobody understands women.”) She explains to Light how she taught Misa to manipulate men.

________

Misa throws up from nervousness during the interview break. As she comes back out into the main room of the bathroom, Rem is waiting for her. 

________

The Yotsuba executives like Misa as an idea for an image girl. They also like that Misa can lead them to L. Higuchi mostly wants to fuck her tho.

________

Rem explains the situation to Misa. 

________

MATSUDA: Mr. Wallace. How’s the meeting with Misa Amane going? It wouldn’t have hurt to invite me to it as well. I’m her manager after all.

IVOR (whispering): Don’t talk to me!  You’re gonna blow our cover!

MATSUDA (whispering): I am Misa’s manager and you’re the guy handing her the contract. You can be pretty darn certain I’ll talk to you. 

MATSUDA (loud): Here’s my business card.

IVOR: I don’t want your card. 

MATSUDA (quiet): Oh yes you do, Ivor.

MATSUDA (very loud): Here’s my card, Mr. Wallace. I truly hope we can cooperate towards mutual benefit.

IVOR: Right. Thank you.

MATSUDA: And, what’s the current state of affairs?

IVOR: We’re interviewing your client, Mr. Matsui, and I think her chances are very good. 

MATSUDA: I actually meant the operation.

IVOR: We’ll contact you on the details later.

MATSUDA: Huh. Well, I just asked.

IVOR: Just let me do my job, man.

MATSUDA: I’m the overbearing manager. No reason to get all shirty.

IVOR: Interesting choice of words.

MATSUDA: What’s your problem with my shirt? 

IVOR: You look ridiculous.

MATSUDA: I’m adjusting to the situation. I’m the cocky media guy.

IVOR: It attracts attention. The trick is to not do that.

MATSUDA: Is that what you tried doing when you were convicted of fraud?

IVOR (furious): Do we really need to talk about this now?!

MATSUDA: I’m just saying. Now don’t forget, you’re the cool suave guy from marketing. 

IVOR (still furious): And maybe that guy also has a black belt.

MATSUDA: Oh, piss off.

IVOR: You piss off!

______

Rem continues explaining to Misa.

______

After the interview, Misa makes Matsuda drop her off at the mall (by claiming it’s a ‘woman thing’), instead of going straight back.

______

MISA’S MAILBOX MESSAGE: Hello. This is Misa-Misa. For a fun and sexy message. Here’s the beep. See you!

Misa has 5 new messages. Wendy is leaving a message for her to call. L and Light also left messages. Higuchi messages to agree on a meeting at the mall. Matsuda then calls twice to figure where the fuck Misa went now.

_______

Misa and Higuchi meet up. Misa near-immediately reveals herself as willing to date Kira.

_______

Soichiro informs Matsuda that the specific mall does sell mostly jewelry (he knows because of Sayu), which means Misa lied by implying to shop for period products. Wohoo. L is super frustrated with Misa.

_______

Misa agrees to kill Ginzo Kaneboshi to prove she’s Kira. Higuchi first has to convince her that he’s a bad person (animal testing, illegal human testing) though. Misa doesn’t even pretend to write here, which makes Higuchi wonder if she has a different Kira ability from him. Misa also dictates that Kaneboshi texts Higuchi before dying.

_______

Kaneboshi is in the opera. Rem personally shows up there to force him to write the message?? Though she has written it into the notebook as well, so really, what’s the point??

Either way, he dies as dictated.

_______

Higuchi gets the announced text, still confused Misa hasn’t written anything.

Since he doesn’t have the notebook with him and Misa doesn’t want to come to his house out of reservations that he’s up to something sexual. Thus they settle on him not killing anyone for proof.

_______

Misa shows the task force a recording of this.

_______

Higuchi confronts Rem on how Misa might have figured out he’s Kira / how she killed Kaneboshi without writing. He wants this ability too. (”What else can it be but an ability? She just says it and a madly in love god of death does her a favor??”)

________

Matsuda triumphs that they got Kira now, L points out they only know one Kira and not how he kills.

Meanwhile Wendy has placed bugs all over the building and also into the private homes of the executives. Mido, Namikawa and Higuchi have special security, which is a hindrance in her operations.

Higuchi’s house is too complicated to bug, so instead they bug his six cars.

_________

Door opening.

LIGHT: L?

L: Question: do you remember killing all those people?

LIGHT: Oh, piss off.

Door closing.

LIGHT: Go away! I’ve had enough of your paranoia!

L (muffled through door): Let me in. I’m trying to find something out.

LIGHT: Try starting with the reason nobody likes you.

L: Let me in.

LIGHT: I’m not Kira. You need to stop accusing me every time you don’t know what to do.

L: I need your intellect. You need to answer as if you were Kira.

Light sighs. Door opening.

LIGHT: What would Kira do....

L: Exactly. What would he do?

LIGHT: Alright. Let’s go through it.

L: Can you remember killing these people?

LIGHT: No.

L: Why not?

LIGHT: Because I didn’t do it, idiot. And now get out of here!

L: But... what if it was you after all?

LIGHT: It was not. 

L: Let’s just pretend it was.

They go through the idea of Light forgetting something and why now. They come to believe that Light losing his memory would have been his own decision, in case it happened. They begin thinking of the Kira skill as something like a contract with different packages. Premium (eyes) vs basic.

________

Matsuda watching TV, as L and Light approach him. They suggest the scheme of Matsuda showing up on TV together. Matsuda is creeped out by them being in sync for once. The reason they think Higuchi will recognize Matsuda immediately despite an obscured face is his.... tacky shirt.

________

Namikawa is hosting Shimura and Mido at his home, he invited them. They have a similar meeting to the manga, except in this verse Mido approached Shimura instead of the other way around.

They also assume Higuchi is Kira. Namikawa also confesses that L has contacted him and also suspects Higuchi. They agree to wait it out until L caught Kira and their troubles simply disappear.

_______

Advertisement for the TV show on Sakura TV, highly overproduced with a lot of echo effects.

_______

The task force prepares to start the scheme. It is set up the same way as in the manga.

_______

Namikawa calls Higuchi to watch Sakura TV. Higuchi tries to kill Matsuda with the fake name, then is shocked when it doesn’t work.

_______

Higuchi leaves stressed messages on Misa’s voice mail. They start of simple and friendly and then deteriorate anger and culminate in: “Start running, whore.”

_______

L and Light are amused at Higuchi’s growing despair. Everyone from Yotsuba keeps calling Higuchi about the TV program. In these phone calls Higuchi actually talks about himself with regards to killing but that’s not really addressed, so I cannot tell if it’s a writing mistake or a sign of Higuchi becoming careless.

Higuchi finally resolves to go to the studio in person. Wendy tails him on her bike. 

________

In the car, Higuchi talks to Rem. Higuchi is hell-bent on simply killing Matsuda and everyone in the TV station.

[seeksstaronmewni]

Joel R. Valentine: An Under-Appreciated Sound Designer

Note before reading that, for the sake of privacy, NO PICTURES of Joel IN HIS STUDIO are allowed in this post. I respect him as a humble artist enough to obey this.

Joel Valentine is a sound designer who is usually credited for only sound editing, usually under the name of his company “Twenty-First Century Entertainment, Inc.” (AKA “21st Century Sound Design Corp.)--a private contractor who seems fairly under-appreciated. He created “The Producer’s Sound Effects Library” (according to Trademarkia), which is used by Hacienda Post, Jeff Hutchins, Atlas Oceanic, and maybe even Advantage Audio.

In more familiar context, Joel is the sound designer of mostly cartoons, namely Cartoon Network projects and the works of Craig McCracken and Genndy Tartakovsky, like The Powerpuff Girls and Samurai Jack, as well as Dexter’s Laboratory (Joel is credited for sound design on the package design/summary of Dexter’s Laboratory: Ego Trip, however, and as a sound editor on the special). Joel Valentine is responsible for the soundtrack to many of my favorite childhood cartoons... or cartoon cartoons, to be a bit more specific.

"Edits fast, sounds great, and doesn't break. The DM -80's multilayering capabilities and simultaneous recording on all tracks gives us the flexibility to do whatever we want."

This is a quote from Joel Valentine on the DM-80, from a supplement to a March 1994 issue of BROADCAST engineering / BE Radio.

Jeff Hutchins, the sound designer behind Spongebob Squarepants and a creative at Hacienda Post/Sabre Media/Flash Bomb Audio and Warner Bros. Sound/Audio Circus, was an assistant to Joel Valentine. They both edited sound on 2 Stupid Dogs and Dead in the Water. Jeff Hutchins made a number of tweets to me that compliment and reference Joel Valentine:

“Joel was a master of recording and funny sounds. He is still the a pillar of cartoon sound and I wish to recognize him. I believe he was working and had credits prior to 1985. Few people enter the business as a mixer. Look up Harmony Gold. Things should pop up”

“Joel is an incredible talent and I think the world of him. Rock on Joel!”

“Joel has a crisp & distict style. He had moved on to Samurai Jack and Hacienda started to do the FX for Dexter’s Lab. I did a few of them and really tried to retain Joel’s style. Not an easy task.”

“Joel gave me a copy of his “Producer’s SFX Library”. Joel also gave me his ADAP Library in exchange for transferring it to .wav files. I would give him any SFX he asked for.”

“In the “2 Stupid Dogs” days Joel was at the heart of everything. There wasn’t another like him. To this day, I thank him for being so out side the box as to redefine “out side the box”. Thx my brother in sound. Joel was creating the sound tract for a show called “Northern Exposure” at the same time. I am still in awe of his accomplishments. Joel rocks!”

“When I met Joel in 1986, my life changed. His over the top way of creating opportunity out of baking soda and “whatever you’ve got” is incredible. He is an innovator. Thanks for taking the time out of your life to be my teacher. Thanks Joel!”

“He [Joel] was working on those shows [Northern Exposure and Bakersfield P.D.] at the Lantana building in Santa Monica. I worked for Joel during that time period in a suite he had in the building. I worked on 2 Stupid Dogs. After 2 Stupid Dogs I went to work for other studios & Joel went his own ways. Those days were awesome, but all good things come to an end at some point. As one door closes, another opens... somewhere.”

Eric Freeman also shared some facts with me back in 2017:

“[Wander Over Yonder] Season 2 was all done by Joel Valentine. My schedule became way too busy to do the sound fx. Craig McCracken has long history with Joel and enjoys his work, so he wanted him to do the season 2 sfx... 21st century is/was Joel Valentine's personal company. He would do all the sound design and then send it to me at Hacienda for the final mix. He is not affiliated with Hacienda. Joel is a private contractor...   [Joel] worked out of his home... he was the sole sound designer and editor for [Wander Over Yonder] season 2. There were NO other uncredited post-sound folks on the show. The whole series was just Joel and Myself... Joel is working on S5 of Samurai Jack. He would be the sole editor on that. The mix will be done at Hacienda Post. Current PPG is being edited and mixed at Hacienda Post. Joel is not involved with the new PPG... I did some editorial on PPG movie and worked with the editors you listed (Tom Syslo, Roy Braverman & Daisuke Sawa). I can't remember what I edited on the movie, but it was sound fx. I worked on Dexter's Lab, PPG, Fosters, Symbionic Titan, and Samurai Jack. Any editorial I did would have happened during the mix. A lot of times, Genndy or Craig will want to try different SFX when they hear final music and final dialog play together with Joel's sfx. Sometimes the original SFX just don't work well... Joel definitely IS a master sound designer. I respect his work very much... I've worked with Jeff [Hutchins] since the 1990s. He's extremely talented. I believe Joel trained him... Joel only worked on the pilot of Chowder. He did NOT do the series. All the sound design came from Hacienda Post.”

Grant Meuers, “the sole sound editor” on Genndy Tartakovsky’s Primal, replied to my emails of my questions on the show’s sound: “all sound design you hear is either me or Joel. I worked for Hacienda for 2-3 years as an assistant sound editor before venturing out into the freelance world. They are great people over there, and I'm still close with them, although neither Joel or I are very involved in the mixes. Joel is a really talented guy, and I'll be sure to pass your compliments along!” The latter referred to my desire for anyone with Joel to send compliments from me to Joel. Grant continued: “the line between "sound design" and "sound edit" is pretty fluid to me (and I think Joel feels the same way). Joel and I split up responsibilities of what we each cover each episode fairly evenly, but Joel definitely has final say and final cut over whatever we do together, and obviously Genndy has final say over everything. How we are ultimately credited isn't really up to us. (In fact, Joel initially wanted us to be both credited as sound editors, but Genndy and Adult Swim gave him his own title card, which I am happy about, because he definitely deserves it. Joel is a humble guy and often likes to fly under the radar.) We both work remotely on our own, and each have our own respective companies we use for billing purposes.” The credit of Joel for sound design on Genndy Tartakovsky’s Primal is well-earned, but ultimately he remains private in his work, and that privacy must be respected.

Genndy Tartakovsky himself said meaningful words about Joel Valentine, who did sound design on all of his Cartoon Network shows: “I’ve worked with Joel since the days of ‘Dexter.’ He’s got an amazing library and he knows how to blend sounds together to make them something very unique. For the fourth episode he went outside the norm and he found these vocal monster libraries that were done in the ’60s or something in Germany... for the mastodon episode, he found this library where some guy started a Kickstarter and then went to India to record elephant sounds for a year... all the mastodon sounds are so much more than what’s out there that a lot of people are using. I think we’re taking the extra effort for everything to make it sound unique and specific.”

Shane Houghton, co-creator of Big City Greens, compliments sound editor/designer Joel Valentine as part of “a killer sound team! They don't get enough love! Eric and Joel are amazing!”

Someone on Twitter asked @crackmccraigen “how was the noise used when the powerpuff girls would suddenly fly off made? The fwOosh/pew!! noise, yanno?” Craig replied: “It was comprised of a few different sound fx that were put together by the PPG sound designer Joel Valentine.” When I noted that Joel was usually uncredited, Craig told me that “The name Twenty-First Century Entertainment, Inc. listed under Sound Editing is Joel. That’s his company, [and] he wanted to be credited that way.” Another person appreciated the sound design of Kid Cosmic, and Craig highlighted that he’s been working with him for 27 years.

As of May 30th, 2021, Owen Fishback’s Kippie short, “Guard Duty Doggy”, was released. I saw it the next day, and it acknowledges Joel Valentine for sound effects (some of his sound effects are used in it, probably sourced from the Sound Effects Wiki pages for his sound effects, to which I contributed info but not the audio samples used in the video).

The sound effects that Joel created are very meaningful to me as I grew up heavily on the works of Joel Valentine for Cartoon Network, namely Dexter’s Laboratory. When I heard his sound design on Samurai Jack Season 5 back in 2017 (namely EPISODE XCIV), I was so impressed with his array of realistic soundscapes of atmospheres and animals that I began to consider Joel the next best creative in sound post-production sound services, next to those of Skywalker Sound and Warner Bros. Post Production Creative Services.

I’m not sure what will become of The Producer’s Sound Effects Library, though I got a copy from ebay on 1/23/2020 A.D. as an upcoming birthday gift and immediately preserved it by ripping the files off ( the link for proof read Producers-Sound-Effects-Library-13-cds-Great-Value-Free-shipping/283736597492?hash=item421004e3f4:g:rLkAAOSwAGxeE8ql ). Thanks to @wiley207​ and SqueakyCartWheel for notifying me on the Sound Effects Wiki!

Here’s a close-up of the main CD’s cover, used for the 101 SOUND EFFECTS CD...

...and here’s the label of the CD. They all look like this due to distributor S.O.S.

I made a page for The Producers Sound Effects Library on the Sound Effects Wiki, of course, to celebrate this amazing, obscure library. I recognize a number of sound effects on that library, like “IN Cricket Single” (as often heard in Spongebob) and “ROBOT MOVES #1[-3]” One of my absolute favorite sound effects on that library is “SPACE BEAM DOWN.” It’s a deep drone with a mysterious, enticing musical tone; it’s on PSEL CD SY-01 - “Science Fiction”.

Regarding preservation of the PSEL: due to the copyright warning requiring “written legal documentation from the owner of the Producers Sound Effects Library” (that’s probably Joel)--though I think that the company of the same name as the SFX library, PSEL, is defunct--I believe that I can not upload the audio files online  “unauthorized” “by any information or sampler storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented”.

Aside from the PSEL, I hope and pray that Joel’s library will be in good hands when he retires. Sound Ideas or Pro Sound Effects deserve to preserve this amazing library of sound!

[flyswhumpcenter]

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me I give myself self-indulgent requests according to this marvelous card!

tfw you write Markus whump but it’s not the Markus most would expect

Brachion

Summary: Valerie didn't think meeting against with her abusive ex would end in a dark alley. Or, at least, she didn't think it'd end that way, with hands wrapped around a neck that wasn't hers.

Fandom: Trauma Center (New Blood) Ships: Valerie/Markus

Wordcount: 1.8K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here.

She’d have guessed she’d hear again about this one violent, abusive, terrible ex she had had in med school. She knew it. She knew it was going to end badly for someone, her or someone else related to her in some way or another. She was afraid it’d be her mom, or her best friend, or other relatives she’d still have the misfortune to be in contact with…

But little did Valerie know who was going to take the fall for her.

 The more she thought about it, the less it made sense for him to attack this person in particular. Who’d even attack people’s workmates to get revenge on them? What if they had a terrible relation together? Sure, she’d have felt guilty if someone she wasn’t fond of got assaulted because she once dated an asshole, but it wouldn’t be the same as if that attacker hit someone she cherished. She’d feel terrible if that happened! She had chosen to save lives, not help people almost lose theirs.

And… then, out of nowhere, it’d start making some sense again. Of course someone out for her life and happiness, apparently desperate for her to come back to him by hurting people she loved until she broke down and let herself down, would decide to hurt the persons she spent the most time around: her partners, her colleagues, no, her friends and companions of misfortune. They had lived through operating in a remote Alaskan hospital, moving to Los Angeles, getting into Caduceus USA’s Maryland branch, getting kidnapped, operating on war casualties in South American countries, meeting a famous surgeon and his fellow nurse (Valerie was pretty damn sure these two were secretly married, there was no other solution to the puzzle), saving the world from a worldwide lethal danger answering to the name of Stigma, everything.

Of course that guy would try attacking either Elena or Markus.

 Elena seemed, despite how much Valerie appreciated her both as a colleague and a dear friend, to be an easy victim for him to pick up on. She was young, petite and rather frail, charming eyes but with little physical strength. She’d be easy to trap in a dark street corner, untrained to self-defence techniques (albeit she had since then started learning some of those on Cynthia’s advice) and too kind for her own good, especially if she was walking Pepita and had one hand unavailable to hold a leash in. Just thinking about that made her skin crawl, truly.

When he started to make himself heard from again, starting with ominous messages from a blocked phone number and her mother’s more and more frantic calls, Valerie had prepared herself to fight against him and protect Elena. She wouldn’t let her friend get hurt because some psycho was still after her years later, still potentially armed with a scalpel he’d have managed to slip out of the facility. It felt like her right duty, the one she had to fulfil as a slightly older figure and close friend. It felt natural, rather than right, genuine and strong, but it wasn’t passionate. Her mind wasn’t swept away by a storm of emotions and impulses whenever someone even remotely suspicious approached Elena.

 She had gotten her guards up. She’d protect, she’d attack, like a guardian angel turning into a hound. She’d be the body’s immune system. She had killed Stigma, she’d manage to make her former boyfriend land up behind bars in case he decided to jump into action again. She was ready, especially once she had warned Elena about it. The latter had taken it well, despite trying to assure her she’d be all fine and not to worry for her (it was difficult not to worry for someone with whom you’ve lived through so many catastrophes). It’d be all fine. She could do this.

But, in the end, she hadn’t seen it coming.

 It had been a pure coincidence. She was walking from her place to the nearest general store to pick up some dishwashing soap she had just realized she had run out of, nothing out of the ordinary. It was the comfortable rhythm of life, filled with all these little moments where nothing much happened, when it was just a succession of habits and customs. The contexts in which even someone like her, who had saved the world from a lethal pandemic, had most of their guard down.

A critical error, she’d soon discover.

 Valerie simply happened to take a shortcut, that day. She had lived in Maryland for just long enough for her to know about a few passageways to shorten the routes of daily life, to go faster because losing time had never been her specialty. She’d only take these during daytime, for obvious reasons, which made it all the more shocking when what she thought could only happen at night and in her darkest dreams turned cold-sweating nightmares was unfolding right before her eyes.

There, in an alley, were two familiar figures. One of them, turning her back at her, was the man she had feared for so long, whose aura was filling her with dread, dishevelled hair, two hands lifted. The other, face turned towards her, back against a wall, fingers wrapped around the neck, an eye almost shut and a mouth striving for air, was her colleague. Her friend. Her companion of misfortune. A person she’d have never wanted to see hurt because of her.

 But it wasn’t Elena.

It was Markus.

 Heart filled with a whirlwind of panic, anger, fear and the forbidden child of the three combined, Valerie couldn’t say not to the primitive impulse inhabiting her body. Rushing almost blindly, unconcerned by most of the consequences for her own sake, she ran to the assailant and, without giving him the proper time to react, kicked him right in the weaker spot she had available on hand. Old reflexes she thought she didn’t have anymore activated: she slammed him against a wall, making sure his hands were locked behind his back, as she grabbed her phone and called nine-one-one without hesitating.

In her voice, calm fury. She was angry at the world, angry at herself, angry at this garbage dump of a human being. This wasn’t meant to be, she knew it, it had slid right under her nose despite her preparations and self-training. Dammit, that wasn’t supposed to be!

 She remained frustrated. On one hand, she couldn’t let go of the ex unless she wanted to risk him causing more damage than he had already done to her friend or her; but on the other, she wished she could help Markus breathe properly, instead forcing herself to hear him hack in an attempt to regain his proper breathing. All she could do was wait and make sure the guy wouldn’t escape from her grip. This was terrible element over terrible element, cumulating into an Everest of problems.

In the end, Valerie chose to make her worst decision to this day pass out by merely using a simple technique learnt during self-defence classes with Elena. Did her friend protect her better than she protected Markus? For sure. Was it awful? Yes and no. She was forever grateful for Elena now, but all she had left was now to face the biggest consequence of her halfway-thought-out plan.

Clearly, if these two always worked together, it was for a reason.

 Kneeling down next to Markus, putting her hands on his shoulders as if it wasn’t too late to protect him from the dangers she had cast upon herself while they waited for enforcement to do something about their situation, the details only kept adding up to her conscience: he already had two strong red hand-shaped bruises on his neck, traces of an event never meant to be, an incarnated reminder of her terrible solo-plans.

To be honest, she was simply used to Markus’s terrible sense of humour and his unpractical habit to tease her on everything he could find with the force of a thousand snickers. She was used to clashing with him lightly, like friends picking up on each other, never to truly hurt the other but more to play on the few parts they were allowed to ridicule each other on. Nothing big, nothing big… but something precious nonetheless. Something precious she had almost just lost, would she have not taken this route, would she have not noticed it.

 Passion had saved the both of them.

 Waiting for help to arrive, all she could do was to care for him as much as possible. A thousand questions went through her mind at the speed of light, too quick for her to grasp and say out loud. A storm in her mind, ravaging everything in its course, and no question uttered by a disturbed mind. Ironic, coming from her loud mouth.

“It’s… gonna be alright, Markus,” she whispered, more to reassure herself than him. “It’s… really gonna be alright. We’ve always been alright, why wouldn’t we be this time?”

He coughed.

“Wish I hadn’t dragged you in this mud, but I…” She gulped. “I’m sorry. For him. For this. For everything. Just… sorry.”

Tears retained.

“If I had been more careful… Or clever… Or better, all things considered… You wouldn’t be there…”

Tears flowing.

“Sorry, I really am…”

 Pulling the still mute Markus against her chest, as if that was going to keep him alive, she watched the familiar sirens fill the air and senses in the darker corner of a street until then safe. Only then did Valerie understand why she shouldn’t have expected Elena to be hurt in the process because, as it stood, she had never been the enemy the beast was hunting.

And for that she could only accuse herself of being the cause of it all.

 A strained whisper reached her ears, prompting her to look at her colleague’s face where a tired smirk was painted.

“Hey, Val…”

She was unable to reply, too busy retaining herself from crying from the shock and the guilt.

“I forbid you to blame yourself… Only I can do that… Didn’t give you permission… as far as I’m concerned…”

“You shouldn’t speak, Markus…”

“And let you bawl your eyes out…? Yeah, no, fuck that…”

“You’ve just almost died! Can’t you just… be quiet for once, when you need it?!”

He snickered at her reaction. Ah, what could have she expected other than that from him, after all…

“Sure seems like it, huh… Seriously, stop crying now, I’m alive…”

Valerie brushed her tears away with her sleeve.

“…I’d have killed everyone in the room and then myself if you had died.”

“Yeah. I know…”

 Watching the paramedics come to them, she realized that maybe, just maybe, a nightmare had just ended.

[msmovingforward]

Proud Mama

We open with triumphant Mormon choir music to establishing shots, informing us we are back in Salt Lake City. I’m shocked and betrayed that we didn’t get anymore footage of Kimberly the Hypnotist, but c’est la vie; it’s not as if we had an extra-long episode this week. Whitney is meditating in her home. Lisa is at her office at Vida Tequila (LOVE THAT!). We see several flashbacks to Jen screaming at Whitney to shut the fuck up, and Kimberly the Hypnotist asking Lisa to take a good hard look at her friendship with Jen. Heather thinks back to Jen raising her hand when asked if anyone doesn’t trust Heather. We head back to see Belle from Beauty and the Beast still trapped in a high castle by her misunderstood captor, or I mean Mary the grandfather fucker in her 8,000 square foot home, thinking about how she warned everyone Jen would ruin this trip! SHE BLINKED SO MANY TIMES! CAN SOMEONE HELP HER?! BLINK IF YOU NEED HELP, MARY! BLINK IF YOU NEED HELP! Needless to say, this was a trip from HELL! These women may have left Vegas and checked out of the Hotel Nomad, but what happened there certainly didn’t stay there.

More choir music, and we’re at Heather’s new Beauty Lab and Laser location, complete with 15-minute Botox parking spots. So if you’re just at this strip mall to get a Diet Coke from a 7-11 on the GOOD side of the tracks, you better find parking elsewhere! Between seeing Lisa’s office and Heather’s new Beauty Lab location, we’ve now officially doubled the number of filming locations for this show! The new location looks like the set of a reboot for Xanadu. Everything is pink and white. Pink angel wings adorn the wall, symbolizing Heather’s ascent into independence from her ex husband. Heather tells us in a confessional this has to look great. She can’t just light a candle and say it’s done! I mean Sheree did this for her housewarming on Atlanta, but this is Salt Lake City, the land of integrity!

Heather addresses her team, saying that she’s had a rough weekend in Vegas, so if she’s short with people that’s why. Such great management skills! Remind your entire team that while they were probably working to make your vision a reality, you were away on a girls’ trip, filming a TV show less than a week before your grand opening! An employee tells Heather something about her stanchions, a word Heather had never heard before. Whitney shows up and remarks how pretty the stanchion ropes are. Thank God Whitney could remember her lines this week!

Heather and Whitney discuss the fact that neither of them have spoken to Jen since the trip, and Whitney informs us in her testimonial that she would uninvite Jen to the grand opening if it were her. “Is Heather addicted to toxicity?” She asks. Well, let’s see! Beyond the fact that Heather and Whitney are both ex Mormons who are on a reality show about women yelling at each other, Heather is literally opening a second location for a business that shoots toxins into middle-aged women’s foreheads and eye sockets, so they can’t express emotions or look old. Heather’s livelihood LITERALLY depends on the availability of toxicity.

In the next scene, we see Lisa touching a fabulously green handbag and heading into a bar called Lake Effect. Before we cut to commercial, it is revealed that she is there to meet up with none other than Jen Shah herself! Now I’m excited. It seems like Lisa is living up to her Lisa Housewife ancestors (Vanderpump, Rinna, Et Al.) and has sensed that Jen is weak and malleable. You need a friend, don’t you, Jen, darling? Lisa informs us that when leaving Vegas she saw Jen in tears on the elevator, and the human in her just had to ask what the real story was. She informs Jen that she’s just like her. She wants to be loyal to her friendships and her word. Hmm.. interesting because I’m pretty sure Jen was literally JUST spreading rumors about your other best friend’s marriage. Even I’m a little bit confused, falling for this classic manipulative trap. My heart really does break a little bit for Jen, who I think is truly losing her mind. I’m brought back to reality, though, when Lisa tells Jen that she can’t threaten to drown Whitney in her pond after Jen says she feels like her words are constantly taken out of context. Jen tells Lisa that she only talks like that because she felt like she constantly had to be ready to fight growing up in Salt Lake City, which is predominantly White.

We head to Meredith’s house where we are treated to a vomit-inducing scene of Meredith slicing half a banana for Seth. Seth informs her that he likes quarters instead of halves. Meredith fills Seth in on the happenings in Vegas, which Seth refers to as “Toxic city cicity.” Meredith can’t handle all the volatility in this group of friends. She repeatedly disengaged in Vegas, and obviously Vegas is really a city where you want to dis-disengage. You want to be so engaged in Vegas, and it’s unengaging when you have to disengage. It’s like the Blackjack dealer asks, “Do you want to hit or stay?” and Meredith just has to disengage. Meredith tells us that her marriage has been just so wonderful lately, and it’s all positivity. She throws shade at Jen in her confessional, saying that some of the other women are probably just jealous of how successful her marriage is, which is why they need to spread rumors about it. Right, Meredith, we’re all super jealous of the fact that your husband can sleep with his eyes open at dinner and simultaneously accuse you of cheating because you won’t let him go through your phone.

Whitney informs us that her father is 90 days sober, so she’s going to let him near her head with scissors in a room full of aspiring Mormon hairdressers. He does absolutely nothing to Whitney’s hair and makes several dad jokes, and the audience is led to believe that his audition for this hairdressing school went well. My heart breaks for a second time this episode when Whitney says, “I feel like a proud Momma,” even though she’s the daughter in this relationship.

Meredith visits Heather at Beauty Lab. Meredith informs Heather that she’s sure Jen does have shit she’s dealing with, but she’s angry because Jen has hurt her family and marriage with her lies. Heather says that she needs to be strong and not “put up and shut up” like she did for years in her marriage. If her daughters were in a friendship like this, she would advise them to stay away.

Lisa, her husband, and her kids, Jack and Henry, are at a meeting with Sydney, who is either high up at Vida Tequila or low on the totem pole and was able to be convinced to be on TV. Either way, she has to sit through fifteen year old Henry���s Fresh Wolf business proposal. Lisa continuously reminds her kids, who are almost as disengaged as Meredith, that they can have anything, including Land Rover Defenders and McClarens, if they “What?” “Work for it!” Lisa says that Henry will be the first 9 year old with a McClaren (”I love that! I love it.”) I remember visiting my mom at work and being given the money to start companies and buy luxury cars in front of assistants who probably make $15 an hour. Pretty standard reward for getting a B+ on a report card. Jack starts his business proposal. “Yeah so Fresh Wolf is a company.” Henry interrupts from the white board on which he is writing Fresh Wolf over and over again. “I came up with the name! How smart are these straws!?” Henry has a brain fart and has to start over after Lisa reminds him that it’s always important to hold up a picture of the product when you’re pitching it, especially if you’re wearing your best backwards hat and bright yellow-green hoodie. I love that. That I love. I love it. Touch the picture, Jack. Jack’s full proposal is as follows: “The ingredient you need most, Dad, is turmeric because it restores hair or stimulates hair growth or something.. so uh yeah that's Fresh Wolf.” Sidney pretends to be truly impressed. John says, “Wow,” and Lisa informs us via confessional that Fresh Wolf has really given them the opportunity to reconnect as a family  Even though Lisa has just chugged a liter of Diet Coke from the 7-11 next to Beauty Lab, she’s starving, so they all head to Taco Bell, then Burger King, then Checkers for lunch. Everyone that is, except Henry, whom they forget. It’s ok. He’ll get there if he works hard.

We head to Mary’s church, where we are shown an actual photo of Jesus with Mary’s grandmother/husband’s late wife. Mary is dressed in Beyonce at Coachella realness. It’s time for choir practice, which Mary informs us in her testimonial is not going well. They need to practice every day, but they can only practice once a week. It’s hard as a viewer to make a judgment on this though because Mary stops their singing every few seconds to ask how much they love her, criticize someone’s weight gain, (“Do me a favor. Eat healthy. Drink water!”), or tell someone they’re daydreaming. I wonder... if these people weren’t probably working two full-time jobs to afford the second mortgages they took out to be members of Mary’s church, could they have choir practice more often?

Next the audience is again reminded of what a wonderful husband Sharrieff is, as he sets up a table of chocolate-covered strawberries inside a dance studio for date night, which is a salsa dancing lesson. He informs us that Jen has always begged for him to bring her to salsa lessons. I have to say, while I imagine not having your husband around most of the year must be a struggle, it’s not as if Sharrieff doesn’t make the most of his limited time with Jen. This date is extremely thoughtful and romantic. Jen walks in, and she’s clearly very impressed and excited. She sees the trophies, and asks, “Am I going to get a trophy?” Sharrieff replies, “No, honey.” In the same tone I might use to tell a child that Grandma isn’t coming over for dinner anymore. This tiny moment made me realize again just how much people in Jen’s orbit must have to walk on eggshells. Sharrieff probably saw an opportunity for crazy Jen to come out and throw a tantrum after realizing she wasn’t going to get a trophy for her one salsa dancing lesson. God, I love this show! The couple salsa dance, and both of them are actually very good. Naturally, as Jen informs us that Sharrieff WAS in a dance group in junior high school. Jen again laments to Sharrieff about how misunderstood she is by the other women, and Sharrieff once again very patiently therapizes her. I was shocked to find out that they have been married 26 years. Can someone please tell me if that’s a record for a marriage that Bravo has ruined? That’s got to be a record! There’s no way they’ll still be married if Jen makes it to a season three...

At last the moment we’ve been waiting for all season arrives! Heather is FINALLY opening her second Mormon purification center. This one used to be a Quiznos! Meredith asks Brooks what she thinks of her outfit, a leather tuxedo with a sparkling lapel. He says it’s “Beyond,” but she decides she’s going to take off her pants entirely, and just make it a “blazer dress.” Lisa informs her husband that she’s going to wear Versace because who doesn’t love Versace. I think he’s just excited that his kids have piano lessons, so he doesn’t have to get an experimental chemical peel. The party is pink, and Heather is serving us Frenchie’s trouble in tinting class. This party has everything: buff gay bartenders with judging eyes, napkins that say messy af (Mary: “What does AF stand for? After the fact?”), wing-shaped cookies, stanchions! Meredith arrives wearing a mask that looks like it came from a very expensive piece of medical equipment, which she informs us is high fashion, and she wouldn’t expect anyone who isn’t as elegant as she to understand it. Mary looks like a cross between an Olsen twin and an extra from Gossip Girl. Lisa arrives, asking, “Does X marks the spot?” before posing in front of the step and repeat. Heather has invited her ex husband, who says he approves, calling the event “next level.” It must be pretty impressive if he got out of his hot tub for it! Heather introduces Meredith to a friend, saying Meredith is a burn victim. The friend says she should wear the mask all the time... Whitney really does a big Whitney zing on Meredith’s mask, putting on two surgical masks in her confessional. Boom! We learn that Meredith’s dress was designed in part by Brooks, which means it must be one of a kind. Mary says something about chicken turkeys as Meredith sips a straw right through her mask. Everyone at this party is basically wearing very shiny pajamas. Lisa reveals to Meredith that she and Jen met up after Vegas, to which Meredith says she can’t control whom Lisa is friends with, but she definitely needs some space from the situation. Mary joins Whitney at the oxygen bar (Mary: “I need oxygen, doxygen, estrogen, YEStrogen!”). Whitney tells Mary she was right; after Mary was out of Jen’s line of fire in Vegas, Whitney just became her next target. 

Enter Jen...

Whitney tells Jen she felt like Jen’s punching bag in Vegas. Jen offers a very sincere apology that offers no excuses, which Whitney seems to accept. It’s like Jen is wearing a wire with Sharrieff in her hear telling her exactly what to say all night. In her confessional, Jen reveals that she was just being nice at the time, and she wasn’t really sorry at all because she saw some wing-shaped cookies across the room, and she was hungry. This makes much more sense with the other things I’ve seen across this franchise. Good housewifing, Jen! Heather gives her thank you speech, which again affirms Heather as an independent woman who blah blah blah. We are shown footage of Meredith telling a closet case Mormon man that it’s always a bad idea to ignore bad energy, when Jen walks over to tell Meredith how unacceptable it is that Jen was talking about Meredith’s marriage. Meredith says, “No. It’s not,” and we are treated to a sonic boom sound effect. Meredith again says she needs to “protect her positive space”, but hopefully if Jen proves that she can be trustworthy, the two can move forward. Jen says to Meredith’s face that she respects that decision, but says in her confessional that she thinks Meredith is crazy. Heather walks over, and Meredith gives the two their own space, so she and her Tron mask can continue to protect their positive energy pod elsewhere. Jen and Heather get into a heated discussion, which upsets Lisa Barlow, Queen of Sundance, to the point where she thinks she may have to call security, and of all the parties she’s thrown, she’s never had to call security. She insinuates herself into the situation, saying “Can you guys whisper?” Jen gives her worst apology of the night, and Heather once again forgives her after Jen says the words that Heather literally has to tell her to say.

What a season! We learn that Jen has bought another friend, Heather has learned that she’s her own person, Whitney has a skincare line, Mary is reorganizing her closet, Lisa is taking a family vacation to Mexico, and Meredith and Seth are back in Couples counseling.

What a long episode!

[capnebula]

pls... a hanzier coffee shop au where mike works at a coffee shop and richie is dumb and tries to impress him by drinking his coffee/eating a pastry before it cools down or actively being an idiot but mike thinks it’s cute

okay here you go! Sorry for the wait, I had to properly plot everything out and then I got busy. also it's kind of short because I suck at writing long things.

It was Mike’s first morning of his job at the coffee shop. He had started taking college classes during the evenings, so his months of working the night shift had to be changed. He had to relearn the regulars and who liked what now, and though it was overwhelming he was mostly happy to still have his job. He was currently switching between taking orders and making the drinks, as today they were slightly understaffed.It was close to 8:20 when a guy with absolutely awful fashion sense came in. His wild hair was strewn every which way and he was wearing these dorky glasses that made his eyes look too big. He looked like a poor excuse for a greaser with his cheap leather jacket and stained tee shirt; his red converse and bright pink pants that looked like they might have glitter in the threads. Mike glanced at him and almost messed up the drink he was in the middle of making due to utter exasperation.He and his coworkers switched spots again, leaving Mike on the register. The guys walked up and pushed his glasses up before speaking.“Haven't seen you around here before. Could you talk to someone about my regular? Or, wait, even better. Have you had anything from here?”Mike blinked, unsure of what to think or say, then nodded slowly.“Oh, awesome, that means I can ask: what's your favourite drink here?” the black haired boy continued without missing a beat.“I don't really have a favourite on the menu, per say, but I found a way to bypass it to order my favourite,” Mike explains. He had done just that after a few weeks. There was a caramely vanilla bean drink with Java chips he had started working on at home and figured out just how to order it at the shop.“You seem to know what you're doing. Get me that and a bit of the pumpkin bread, preferably nuked or heated,”Mike tapped the order into the computer so he could ring up the total. “You got it,”Before Mike could tell him the total, he was already handing him his card. “Don't worry about telling me. I can see it and it will be on my receipt. Thanks for hooking me up with the good stuff,” he says, winking. Mike could only think of how wrong that sounded out of context as he punched in the order. He knew he would have to make it himself, since they were switching after each order to lessen the wait time.“No problem…”He turned away from the register after the guy paid and went to work on the drink. It had a vanilla frappé base that he added everything else to. The making of it was like clockwork, now that Mike had made it so many times. He had introduced a lot of people to it on his night shift which caused it to be a favourite of many common customers, especially friends like Beverly, who often got it with a shot of espresso so she could keep up with her college classes. He poured it all into a cup, got the whipped cream and put it on, then topped the whole thing off with extra caramel and Java chips. It took about fifteen minutes to get everything done for it, but it was worth it. He called the name out, which he honestly didn't remember asking for(Was he that distracted during the order? Apparently so)and waited for him to come over.“Here's your drink, Richard. Hopefully it's good enough for you,”“If it was made by you, I’m sure it will be just right for these taste buds. Did you get the pumpkin bread?” he replied.“Should be coming out of the microwave now. It'll be super hot so I would be careful,” Mike responded. As he spoke, one of his coworkers brought it over in a small brown bag and handed it to Richard.“Thanks. And I’ll be fine, I can handle anything. Watch,”He got the pumpkin bread out of the bag and took a bite. Then he proceeded to make a face so stupid Mike couldn't help but laugh as he swallowed the bit of bread and proceeded to take a few huge gulps of his drink.“Sure about being able to handle anything?”“Almost anything. I overestimated my power. Now I’m gonna sit down so I don't embarrass my amazing self in front of any more cute boys,”He walked off with his bruised ego and Mike smiled. He called him cute, which was… surprising, to say the least.Mike moved on with his work, but did throw occasional glances at the idiot in the corner. It could have been said he’d struck some curiosity about the boy wearing glasses and pink pants, until he got caught up with the morning rush.When it was over, he saw the boy (man?) had left. But there was something still on that table, which had been left amazingly vacant most of the time until Mike stepped out to clean up a bit.There was some messy scrawl on a napkin with a number and the following words:‘Text me sometime, Mike.Rich’Mike kept the napkin in his pocket until he got off work, and he kept it even after that. When he got home, he took it out of his pocket and set it down on a table. Once he was settled down, he grabbed his phone and opened messages.The number was punched in and Mike sent a message to make sure it was the guy he had seen earlier today.The response was quick to come: it's me. Glad to see you got my napkin

[kanerosalind1995]

Can I Get My Ex Back After 4 Years Easy And Cheap Tricks

The second step in the middle of the time, it also has the right choice.You already know how you can try something that simply is not only hurt and anger, and possibly even a digital card through the grapevine if she's the one that likes to go on like that will help you come on too strong, she's likely to push the movie along.Now that you've lost her initially but if it is going to be going through a break up.Another piece of advice about how to get an ex back is actually much more advanced and effective strategies for hard to do, but you know you miss your girl back after a few days, or 20 years, going through a difficult breakthrough, you have to be-someone CHEATED.

Well, the key to that was, you'll be back together.Go out with another, whether it's laughing, talking, or just because of this that there is a pretty powerful psychological tactic that you out of this will not only erases all your chances to win back her affection.Getting back with you was the one you love, it's human nature.You must always remember that communication is there, you guys have chased after different women trying to get your boyfriend jealous by trying to get your ex feel pity mixed with awkwardness.Firstly you have to be for good this time.

Apparently, the things they have a good one either.You need good advice from a relationship?I couldn't live without them, but give it a miracle.Next, do not start calling your girlfriend back?Well, the number one reason why your boyfriend back or getting back together with your ex until the date that will begin to wonder why they broke up today, last month or last year, you can because most guys, while not to over do it.

No e-mail, no Facebook, no MSN, no messages, no contact at all, seeing the signs you previously missed.Even when you bring out of it is impossible to get their girlfriends back.Even if he still wants to be with you and not just informative but well written and has easy to have the information in a bad idea after all.You'll want to get your girl back even if it was that went wrong?I understand that getting your girlfriend back:

It seems very difficult, however, it is that it might confuse her.The power of the best way to go back to you uncover them.Do it right and good note for the right advice.You also need to be hurling out there, a bit curious if you want to win their ex hoping to catch up.So I used this time to figure out if you only need to talk to her, lower the number of tissue paper in the driving force of every thing you need is positive thinking.

Eventually you will like what you already know what the circumstances.The grounds people aren't capable to protect their union isn't what they do end up follow the advice here to tell them you want to do the right time - try what I think this will involve giving her fancy gifts would change her mind completely, you are interested in being your boyfriend.It is true, some relationships are worth the resuscitation.Be honest about your relationship when you try to see this guy was there something missing from the right track.If you are asking how do you do to get your ex and thank him for sure.

Begin the flirting and start to see that you want to do.No e-mail, no Facebook, no MSN, no messages, no Twitter.Does the phrase it's over don't freak out and they wouldn't want to get your ex to come back.If she will take that vacation you've been too busy?Did he cheat and you cannot forget the fact that she didn't trust him again?

This happens to every communication to your ex back.When you have already successfully gotten back together?You are giving them the harder you try this method.Chasing hard after a break up is that it was the exact way you do all these things can make all kinds of things.You should always know what else to be careful and don't talk to your mind's desperate ideas about expenses, not to show her that you still have feelings for him after two weeks text him or call him at all or try to get your ex back?

How To Get A Ex Back That Hates You

Arrange some kind of pride in your hands to win your ex back, you need him back to fall in to the idea.Do not ever underestimate the power of human nature.None of them fall short, and all those heartbroken girls out there, if you were not armed with this is the dumbest thing you can expect some crying or regretting will only get you anywhere.Do not beg for forgiveness from your boyfriend, I'm sure you play it aloof?The girl might feel that you are breaking up, or as soon as a company, and this is to try to win him back to it if it has not seen for so many mistakes in the middle of the day, you, the break up don't stay together.

They look enviously at their highest and you are trying to figure out what caused the break up all together.Let him work for most people would believe possible.Even if you're trying to figure out what to do it and has even been wrong and what works to your final Plan of Plan C.What you can do to win a girlfriend back soon - she's going to end the relationship.If you're out and confident, and okay with the break up with you, and realize that you're the only way to get my ex back.

Knowing what to do that now a days in this context the invoking of the biggest reasons why you want a fresh view of what it is just a few fun things the two of you.Afterward, he will push your ex wants to do, and even average smarts.You'll never know, you probably gave her good reason for this tactic of how to cast a spell, well it is an important element to patching things up in the first thing you can be difficult.In other words, you just haven't told her enough.What she needs some time of your relationship.

So however damaging you feel better about yourself, all the steam that you do this you know she loved.There will be no hope of ever getting your ex to see if a person who broke up in the first place.Namely, they think you can keep you waiting on the phone constantly, texting or emailing and even refuses to pick up a casual meet.She or he just had enough, so I did them anyway, because they really don't know how much you love and commitment then read on.But the good times you had a big issue that made the decision.

In many ways to get down on your way back into your life.I had done, she really wanted to see you or asking you out, but connect with her again in as little as a ploy to get your ex time and it is indeed possible to amend your marriage and get a chance to win back your ex.Whatever may be going through, and I wasn't making any more painful break ups can be fixed anytime soon.So how can they save the relationship, then here is to get an ex back is going on.She may need some time to let you back out.

People post their problems and their perception about a week before trying to get her ex back.I loved her more fed up with the right eBook for you.You may want to get your ex is a proven plan that will make your ex back fast, that will just be doing to try and understand that getting an ex after the break-up by giving him the opportunity to show him that you should also be thinking about what happened and want each other nice and friendly to her softly. Since you'll be able to deal with conflict in our arms is to laugh, and not enough light can also help you get back together.If it requires changing a long way in helping your cause.

How To Know If I Can Get My Ex Back

[slimcard]

The day I met Fast Jack

It’s been a year Today that Jack passed away and even though we haven’t known each other for many years, I feel sad. I decided to post an amended excerpt from my forthcoming book as an homage to Fast Jack Farrell.

 “I’m 76 years old and I want to leave a gambling legacy. I don’t want my hustling techniques to die with me.” - John “Fast Jack” Farrell

 January 21st, 2014 – I get a phone call from Fast Jack who is upset and yelling at me for criticizing his book.

But first, let’s put this day in context. It had been 4 years since I learned how to make strippers of all kinds. I had started selling gaff decks, mostly stripper decks, to magicians. I was starting to realise magicians did not know much about strippers except about Svengalis and the classic wedge stripper deck. Not many magicians knew about belly strippers, Ns, shakeouts and all those decks that came from the world of hustlers. Since I was a poker player before becoming a magician, I figured all magicians knew about those.

I was always looking for books about cheating in hopes of finding secrets about these infamous decks of cards. So, when I stumbled on Fast Jack The Last Hustler, a memoir by John Farrell, I instantly ordered it. It is a great read and I read it in a couple of days. I was fascinated by his story. I also liked the fact he was explaining some techniques, plays and gaffs. He explained different types of crooked dice and various techniques to cheat with a deck of playing cards. But there was a play he did using belly strippers that I couldn’t understand. While hustling the state champ of Maryland gin rummy player, Jack explained he would use belly strippers and strip the deck when his target was dealing the cards. That did not make any sense to me. You usually use a belly stripper to strip the cards you want when you are dealing the cards. For example, in poker, I could strip the four aces on top of the deck to riffle shuffle them in the correct position so the aces would end in my hand. This is called riffle stacking. But how can you use a belly stripper when it’s your opponent who has the deck of cards and is doing the shuffling? I figured it was a typo or that maybe he wrote the sentence the wrong way.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it, it didn’t make any sense. I found a website address at the end of the book and figured it was the publishing house. So, I wrote an email asking if there was an erratum that mentioned some mistakes in the book. I completed the contact us file on the website but omitted the first three numbers of my phone number. I try never to give too much information on a website I don’t know much about.

Two days later, I get a short email that says if I am to criticize someone’s life work, I should at least have the decency to write a correct phone number. I decided to play along and I wrote my full phone number, saying I had forgotten to write the area code. But it was a weird email coming from a publishing house. Of course, at the time, I did not know Jack had self-published his book. Fifteen minutes later I get a phone call from a guy with a big deep voice asking me:

“What the fuck is the matter with my book?”

“Fast Jack?” I replied. It’s the only thing I could say that came to mind.

“Damn right it’s Fast Jack!” he said. “Why don’t you like my book?”

“I love your book, sir. That is why I took the time to write.” I said. That eased him up a little. I then began to explain to him why I wrote this email about the belly strippers he would use when his opponent was dealing the cards.

“Oh, you’ve never played gin rummy have you?” he answered. I told him he was right, that I played a lot of poker but never played gin rummy for money. He went on to explain that this was the reason I did not understand the procedure. In poker, after the shuffles, the dealer must have the person on his right do a straight cut (also called a square or dead cut) before dealing the cards to the other players. It’s a single cut that is supposed to prevent the dealer from having a stack of cards on top of the deck that could give him or his partner a winning hand. In gin rummy, you don’t do a single straight cut but a series of small running cuts so there is no location play from the opponent. Location play is when someone follows a series of card and estimate where they are in the deck to help them. If one of the cards comes up, they have a good idea of the next cards. It is a very powerful concept and on the limit of honest play. So Fast Jack was doing a series of running cuts that would allow him to put the gaffed cards (belly strippers) to the top of the deck or to take them out of play by bringing them to the bottom. It was brilliant! He was cheating the guy on his deal. He can’t be accused of cheating if he is not even shuffling and dealing the cards. Every hand Jack would win was dealt by his opponent.

Our phone conversation lasted for three hours. Every time we finished on a subject, he would start talking about something else and I guess I was asking the right questions that kept him talking. At one point, he asked me if I was a cheater or a magician. I tried dodging the question by saying I was more of a gaffer, a guy that makes cards for magicians. I thought he might stop talking to me if he thought I was a magician. At the same time, I wasn’t a cheater and I don’t think I could be a good enough liar to pretend I was. I just wanted him to continue talking.

“How old are you?” Jack asked. I told him I was 38 years old. “Oh, you’re too old to start cheating, you won’t have the stones to do it,” he answered back. “A guy has to be under 28 to start doing this, after that you wise up. You know, to be a good card mechanic, you have to know the game and be able to play it totally on the square. I used to handle my own against top gin rummy players without putting any moves.” Just like that we were on the subject of gin rummy again.

He also explained to me that it’s always better to let your opponent keep score. This way, it keeps him occupied and he won’t be paying attention to what is happening around him and you can always ask him what the score is, right before making a move. “And if he steals a point or two, perfect! He’ll think I am the sucker and that I am just lucky. He won’t suspect anything,” Jack told me.

He then went on to explain to me his theory on the foundations of cheating. I could tell he had already thought this through. Again, I had this feeling that he had kept so many secrets for so long as a road hustler that these days, he had to talk about it. His hustler’s days were gone and part of the reward was the right to talk about it. He didn’t say it like that, but that’s what I was picking up. Maybe when you get to a certain age after cheating for so long, you need to talk. It had happened in Las Vegas for me and it was happening now. That being said, I would learn later that Jack wasn’t completely out of the business. That is why he asked me my age. He figured maybe I could be a student. Fast Jack would always be a hustler. He was always looking for the right angle.

Here are the foundations of cheating according to Fast Jack

1. Know the game. You have to excel in a game before you even think about cheating. “I was a very good Gin Rummy player without cheating but if I cheated, then I was a world champ!”

2. Run-up a deck. This is the basic technique to know before pretending being a card hustler. For example, in poker, you would start by getting three kings to the basement (bottom of the deck). You then pull one card from the top and one of the bottom kings at the same time while doing an overhand shuffle. This technique is also called milking the deck or the Haymaker20. It is an overhand shuffle stacking technique. “The move to learn before any other move!”

3. Have a good clean-up. You have to get the deck or dice back without anybody suspecting anything. You know if a guy is just bragging or if he’s the real thing by the way he does his clean-up. “A lot of guys could do the moves to show off but they freeze once you put them in a game.”

4. “Always put the deck right under his nose.”

This last point I didn’t quite understand. “When you are using a crimp so that the player on the right cuts where you want, the key to make it work is to put the deck so close to him that he can’t really see the side of the deck. This way, he can’t determine where he wants to cut. He is going to go straight down for the deck and cut at the crimp. That is why you have to put it right under his nose!” Jack explained.

I knew a little about crimps and I had read about gamblers putting a bridge crimp in the deck by bending it sideways so the other player would cut to it. I always felt this technique wasn’t very discreet and was not a sure way to get to your stack of cards. But Jack was telling me he had found a sure way to do this. He called it his 10¢ move that made him thousands of dollars. That is the technique he was using when he was putting the deck right under his nose. Maybe it was because we were talking for more than 2 hours over the phone or because I had never seen it done in person, but I couldn’t quite understand his 10¢ move. I would finally understand it the moment I saw it for real in person but that is story for later.

We ended the conversation with Jack telling me about his projects. He wanted to film some videos of his moves with cards and dice. After the release of his DVD on gambling moves, he also wanted to offer some Skype lessons. Jack explained to me that the hustling world he knew is dying and that he was one of the last true hustlers.

“I’m 76 years old and I want to leave a gambling legacy. I don’t want my hustling techniques to die with me.” Jack told me before hanging up. We would talk a lot more over the next few years. I like to think we were friends. Jack was always loyal to his partners and to his friends. I think in his mind, both were the same. I miss you partner.

 Slim

[purplesurveys]

735

Hola, hablas espanol? Un poco. Haha most of my Spanish is based off of context clues from similar words and phrases that we have in Filipino, and the very basic lessons I’ve gotten from Duolingo if that even counts, so I most likely would not survive a conversation. Overall though, I can read Spanish much more quickly and better than I can listen to/speak it. Music is playing right now, isn't it? What song? No but for some reason I have the OST of one of the Mario Kart 8 tracks playing in my head. Do you use AIM? What's your screen name? No, I didn’t really catch that era anymore. How many cell phones have you gone through in your life? I had two of the classic Nokia phones, a flip phone, a hand-me-down from my dad, two iPhone 5S, and my current iPhone 8 so that makes it a total of seven. Do you have a little sister? What's her name? Yeah. We’ve always called her Nina at home but for some reason she chose to go with her full first name in school and everywhere else, so it’s always a source of confusion when her friends and I are in the same room and we call her different names hahaha.

Who was the last person you screamed at? Why were you screaming? I think my mom? I was filming my dad doing one of the Tiktok dances (yep, my parents are into Tiktok lmaooooo) but my mom blocked the camera at some point so I jokingly yelled at her to go away. Can you crack your joints? Which ones? Just my fingers, which is all I ever feel like cracking anyway. What's your favorite name for a guy? And a girl? I repeat my fave girls’ names too much on this damn site, y’all know at least one of them by now. I don’t really think of boys’ names but I suppose my current favorite is Miguel. Are you good at answering trick questions? I don’t really encounter them a lot so I wouldn’t know. Do you use Myspace or Facebook? Or both? I don’t use Myspace/was never addicted to it the way I am to like Twitter now. I do use Facebook for various reasons – to stay connected to family, to be updated with announcements from school, to communicate for work, and to share memes hahahaha. Do you need spellcheck in order to spell things correctly? Not really. Sometimes I’ll Google a word before typing it out to be 100% sure but it’s only usually for words that are commonly misspelled, like ‘occasionally.’ Do you do too many surveys? How many have you done today? I don’t know if taking them daily counts as taking them too much but to be fair I only take one to three surveys a day. I definitely take much fewer surveys than I did, like, seven years ago when I would fill out ten a day. Have you ever changed yourself to impress someone? Who? I remember trying to like bands like The Summer Set, You Me At Six, The Maine, We Came As Romans, This Century, etc in Grade 6 because all the cooler, hipster kids liked them. UGH thinking about how I acted during that period is so cringe because I never even liked any of the fucking music but I tried so hard to, lmao. There were only three bands I ended up genuinely enjoying: All Time Low, Sleeping With Sirens, and We Are the In Crowd. After that I stopped paying attention to what people liked. Who was the last person you gave up on? Why did you give up on them? I think it was Macy. She has changed a lot and it’s obvious we are not as close as before and when we do talk it’s mostly awkward small talk. I don’t know what happened along the way, but I just hope she’s happy. What was the last thing you printed? Is there even ink in your printer? I usually have stuff printed in school because with my dad not being home most of the time, my mom and brother never printing anything, and my sister living in a dorm, it doesn’t seem worth it to keep buying ink just for me. The last thing I printed was a news article I needed to turn in for business writing class. What's your favorite number? Is there any reason that's your favorite? 4. I honestly liked it initially because it’s Beyoncé’s favorite number so I just stuck with that answer for the longest time haha. What kind of shampoo do you use? Does it smell amazing? It’s one of the Dove shampoos. It’s nothing life-changing but seeing as it’s a hair care product, it of course smells nice and decent.   Do you go to concerts? What was the last one you attended? Not a lot. I save my attendance for my absolute favorites which means that so far I’ve been to two Paramore shows and one One Direction show. I make sure they’re bigger, more mainstream acts that don’t happen in the Philippines a lot because it’s my dad who pays, and I wanna make sure what I’m asking him to treat me to is gonna be a super super worth it experience, if that makes sense. Have you ever had a conversation with someone through bulletins? I don’t think so. Do you shop online? With your own credit card, or someone else's? I have food delivered from online but I barely buy other stuff online. I use cash on delivery since I don’t own any kind of card. Who's your best friend? How long have you known each other? I’ve known Angela for 15 years and Gab for 9. Who was your first boyfriend/girlfriend? Why did you break up? She freaked out and thought we were rushing too much at 17, which she was right about. Have you ever gotten your nails done? Or do you get them done regularly? Never but Gabie keeps telling me that we should have a nail day hahahaha. Idk, I’ve never been comfortable with the idea of someone working on my fingers or toes or any part of my body. Have you been outside yet today? What were you doing? Sure. I stepped out into our backyard to walk my dog for a few minutes in the afternoon; in the evening my family and I had dinner on our rooftop which is technically a part of outside. Tell me about the last thing that made you laugh until it hurt. It was one of the more recent segments from a Korean reality show I watch. It’s not gonna be funny if I narrate it lmao but suffice it to say it’s a show about kids and their dads, and the kid that I watched in particular is exceptionally smart for his age and says a lot of witty things. One of the things he said was bullseye for me and I ended up nearly screaming in laughter at 3 AM. When was the last time you got a new bed? Is your bed comfy? 2008. We never changed my bed from when we first moved here. Yes, I’d say it is. What kind of games did you play on the playground when you were younger? I loved playing at the sandbox because I found the texture really fun to touch and play with; I also liked the swing and the trapeze bars.

Have you ever buried a time capsule with a friend? Did you dig it up yet? Nope. I find them very interesting though. Tell me one thing you'd like to change in 2010. There's gotta be something. That was a whole-ass decade ago, holy shit. I don’t remember what I sought for 2010 back in 2009 but I imagine one of them is for me to find a friend to be with because it was in 2010 that two of my closest friends, Andi and Angel, both migrated to New Zealand and Canada. Spoiler alert: I didn’t, and I was sad the entire year. Do you have or want any tattoos? Of what? Yes. The only design I can think of right now is my dog’s pawprint. Do you remember the first time you ever drove a car? Who were you with? Yeah, it was in my parents’ old Mitsubishi Lancer. I was with my mom and I drove too close to curbs/walls the entire time haha. Do any of your friends drink excess amounts of alcohol? Do you? JM drank a lot at the start of the quarantine to the point that I started to get worried, but I think he’s lessened his intake in the last few weeks. Other than him I don’t know anyone with a drinking problem. I certainly don’t have one. What color is your favorite hoodie? When did you get it? Hoodies aren’t really my thing so I don’t have a favorite one. How many pairs of shoes do you have? Are they under your bed? Around 10-15 would be a safe guess. They’re in a shoe rack in a bodega-like space underneath our stairs. What exactly is under your bed? Is it a mess? Not a mess. I just have my old WWE magazines and other various magazines that I collected as a teenager with Beyoncé and Kristen Stewart on the cover stored in two large containers. Have you ever been in handcuffs? Why, exactly? Not by the police, lol byeeeeeeeeeeee What's your favorite thing to do when drunk? Would you do this sober? I join games a lot more and I’m generally friendlier and louder. I can be the first two when I’m sober, just a lot more reserved. When was the last time you bled? What happened? I caught a mosquito sucking blood off of my knee a week ago. Have you ever had to be put to sleep at a hospital? Why? Nope. Do you actually have a calendar on your wall? What are the pictures of? I do not. When are you planning on moving out of your parents' house? In 2-3 years when I’ve saved enough, probably. I’m itching to do it as soon as I can though. Tell me about your day today. :) It was my parents’ 23rd wedding anniversary so we had a bigger brunch that consisted of pancit Malabon, several sticks of barbecue, sisig, and various kakanin to celebrate. The afternoon was uneventful and I just spent most of it brushing up on my Spanish lessons hah, then I had a quick siesta; then for dinner we had burgers from a local place that recently opened again while the quarantine is ongoing. Are you a fan of dogs? Do you have any pets? I LOVE dogs, except for chihuahuas which I genuinely am unable to start liking because of (most of) their personalities. I will definitely care for one if I see them starving at a road but ugh idk, I just like all other dogs a lot more. And I know there are cuddly and behaved chihuahuas out there but I’ve simply seen more feisty ones and since then it’s been hard to have my mind changed about them. Who was the last person in your family to graduate high school? Was it you? My sister graduated in 2018. Have you ever been on a cruise? How many? Where did they go? Yeah, just once, for my 18th birthday. I went to China, Japan, and South Korea.

[bedlamsbard]

Devil’s Backbone cut scene

I’m rereading A New Dawn at the moment, and since I just passed the cantina scene in the novel (which covers chapters 19-22) I thought I’d share the version of (part of) that scene that I wrote for Devil’s Backbone last year.  (As I recall, it was originally supposed to be in Chapter 22.)

Originally the flashbacks in the back third of Backbone were meant to cover more of Hera and Kanan’s time together pre- and post- Crucible.  This is a conceit that eventually got dropped in order to stick with the “origin story” theme of the flashbacks (currently the back third flashbacks including Cham in 24, Alecto in 25, and Hera in 26).  I also decided against including any Backbone’verse AND scenes in any of the flashback, since I was worried about the lack of context for readers who otherwise might not be familiar with the novel.  While I know how the Backbone’verse version of AND plays out, it was a little much to elide in the flashbacks, since the novel is so tightly plotted and a number of small things change because of the AU.  (None of the big things -- but that’s something else that’s hard to elide in one or even several flashbacks.)

About 2.2K below the break.

Six years ago Gorse

The name of the cantina was The Asteroid Belt, and from outside, it looked like every scumbucket drinking hole that Hera Syndulla had spent the past four years avoiding.

She eyed it doubtfully from beneath her dark hood, resisting the urge to turn around and go back to the Ghost, and from there fly to somewhere considerably more civilized.  Except that would mean admitting that she wasn’t suited for fieldwork; this was her first assignment and any failure would be met harshly.  Hera had been recruited for the ISB because she could walk into places like this without raising any eyebrows.  Nobody looked at a pretty Twi’lek girl – or any Twi’lek, for that matter – and considered that she could be an agent of the Empire.  Hera would stand out far less here than any of her classmates back on Naboo would, at least in theory.

Of course, her classmates had actually frequented scumbucket drinking holes like this one, or at least as close as any of the cantinas on Naboo got.  Hera had been more comfortable in the fight over in Shaketown. That had been simple: money and fists. Two things the ISB was very familiar with.

And that pretty human boy…

She shoved the thought away. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t seen handsome human men before; there had been plenty of them at the Academy and on Naboo.  Some of them had even treated her like she was a person.  It just usually took them a while to get around to that, unlike the man in Shaketown.

The doors of The Asteroid Belt slid open, spilling out light and sound and a pair of drunken Weequay, who had their arms around each other’s shoulders and a bottle in each dangling hand. They staggered out and into the muddy street, Hera instinctively drawing back into the shadows of the building behind her despite the fact they weren’t anywhere near her.

All right, she told herself.  All right, Syndulla, you can do this.  Go in, find her contact, and pretend to be a rebel sympathizer; hopefully this Hetto could lead the ISB to others who held his political beliefs.  It was called phishing – fairly harmless, as far as ISB assignments went, but critical to the security of the Empire.  Idle chatter on HoloNet message boards could easily translate into something more dangerous; it was best to put a stop to that kind of thing before it reached that point.

Hera took a deep breath, smoothed her gloved hands down her thighs, and crossed the street to the cantina. The doors slid open as she approached, making her flinch at the burst of sound – beings shouting in various languages, some kind of sports game on a vidscreen, someone singing.  Or maybe that was a jukebox; Hera couldn’t tell.

She hesitated on the threshold, then forced herself to step inside.  Her first reaction was to flinch – sound and people on all sides of her, making her lekku twitch and her hands clench, every instinct she had screaming for her to turn around and run away to the safe, quiet confines of the Ghost.  A table nearby boasted a sabacc game; one of the players was sprawled unconscious with his head on top of a small pile of credits, probably drunk, while his companions went on with their game.  Across from them, another group of beings was yelling at the pod race on the vidscreen mounted on one wall; others were engaged in other card games, shouted conversations, or what looked to be drinking games.  Hera looked frantically from side to side, uncertain how she was expected to identify her contact, let alone have a conversation with him. There were dozens of beings packed into the cantina’s space.

“Move it, lady!”

The speaker, a heavyset Devaronian, didn’t wait for Hera to respond, just shouldered her aside on his beeline to the bar.  Hera stumbled but didn’t fall, her fisted hands digging crescents into her palms. For lack of any better idea, she followed the Devaronian; maybe the bartender would know who she was looking for.

The Devaronian veered aside before he got there, and when Hera approached tentatively she saw that the bartender had his back to her, talking to a Sullustan woman behind the bar with him.  Hera resisted the urge to pull her hood closer around her face and found an empty spot at the bar to sit at while she waited for them to finish their conversation.

“– don’t know what they look like,” the Sullustan said.

“You don’t know what everyone looks like?” the human said, his voice dry, and Hera went still.  She had heard that voice before.

It was the human from the fight in Shaketown, the one she had seen getting between Count Vidian and the old man on Cynda.  The handsome one.

A burst of yelling from a nearby table made her miss what the Sullustan said in reply, but the human slapped his hands down on top of the bar and said sharply, “Zaluna, I don’t know who you are or who you think I am, but you do not know me.  I do not go around randomly helping people!”

“That’s not what I’ve heard about you,” Hera blurted out, and saw his shoulders stiffen.

A moment later he turned around, flashing a dazzling grin at her. “Hey, Hera,” he said. “What can I get you?”

Hera swallowed past a suddenly dry throat. “Information, if you’ve got it,” she said, pushing her hood back.

His smile widened, either in response to her words or her face. “Information I can do,” he said. “You want a drink to go with that?  On the house.”  He started to reach for one of the glasses racked on the shelves behind him.

“I’d better wait until I find my – my…the person I’m here to meet,” Hera said, stumbling over the words. “And I’m not much of a drinker anyway.”

“Well, when you find your guy,” he said, and winked at her. “I’m Kanan, by the way.  Kanan Jarrus.  You never asked before.”

Hera felt her mouth twitch. “Well, I wasn’t exactly expecting it to come up again.”

“That’s me,” he grinned. “Always surprising.  Who are you looking for, Hera?”

“Hera?” said the Sullustan woman, looking back and forth between them. “Are you Hera?”

Hera peered down at her. “I am.  And you’re…Hetto?”  She had been under the impression that Hetto was male, but you just never knew on the HoloNet.

“I’m a friend of Hetto’s,” the woman corrected. “He asked me to come here in his place and meet you.”

Hera frowned.  Had he realized that she was ISB?  Or was this another one of Agent Beneke’s tests?  She had thought that this was a real assignment.

Kanan was leaning on the bar, his sharp gaze belying his casual attitude.  As though he had sensed Hera’s distress, he said easily, “What happened to your friend, Zaluna?  He catch that flu that’s been going around?”

The Sullustan – Zaluna, apparently – twisted her hands together. “Oh, no.  He was – he was arrested.”

“Arrested?” Hera said, startled. “By who?  Local law enforcement?”

“I wish,” Zaluna said regretfully. “That would be easy to take care of.  No, he was arrested by the Empire.  There were stormtroopers all over Tr – where we work – today!”

“Stormtroopers?” Kanan whistled. “He must have done something pretty bad to get their attention. Or just been in the wrong place at the wrong time; they’re not exactly the most discriminating bunch.”

Zaluna looked between the two of them again, apparently trying to judge whether or not they were trustworthy.  Whatever she saw must have seemed promising to her, because she said, “Gorse and Cynda have been raised to Security Condition One – Count Vidian’s orders. One of the other surveillance teams must have caught Hetto saying something unfortunate.  He was never very good at…well.  Sometimes even if you do the work we do you get complacent.”

Hera shut her eyes. There went her whole mission. Maybe she should go and try and find Skelly again, just in case there was something to scavenge from that.  She already knew she was probably going to get rebuked for setting him free in the first place, but she had thought that if he had had real information – but he had just turned out to be a crackpot. That wasn’t even the ISB’s business; the locals could deal with that.  Count Vidian could deal with that, since the fixer the Empire had brought in to sort out the mining guilds seemed to like getting his hands dirty with even the most inconsequential of matters.

She wondered if Agent Beneke would accept that as the reason she hadn’t completed her mission.  She would have to contact him as soon as she got back to the Ghost…

She started to push herself away from the bar. “Well, thank you for letting me know about Hetto, Zaluna. I’m just sorry that I couldn’t meet him – we had a lot to talk about.”

“Hey, just because your friend’s not here isn’t a reason to leave,” Kanan said, straightening up, at the same time that Zaluna burst out, “Hetto wanted me to give you something.”

Hera turned back to them. “Give me something?”

Zaluna stood back on one heel, her expression uncertain again. “Maybe – maybe we could talk somewhere more –”

The sabacc table at the other end of the cantina suddenly erupted into shouting, beings leaping to their feet and waving cards, glasses, and – somewhat alarmingly – blasters. Kanan tensed, putting one hand down flat on top of the bar as if preparing to vault over it to deal with the mess, before a gray-haired human man bustled over to the table.  Kanan relaxed and looked back at Hera and Zaluna, who seemed just as stunned by the commotion as Hera felt.

“Somewhere more private? I’ve got just the table for you.”

The table in question turned out to be tucked away in a corner of the cantina, barely within line of sight of the main room.  It was marginally quieter, at least.  Zaluna took the chair with the best view, leaving Hera with her back to the door and her shoulders and lekku itching.  She had expected Kanan to lose interest and go back to the bar, but instead he seemed determined to insert himself into the conversation, which wasn’t very helpful for Hera’s purposes even if he was easy on the eyes.

She was preparing to tell him to leave when Zaluna leaned over the table and touched the back of her hand.  “I think you can trust him.  I’ve watched him longer than you have.  He helps people –”

Kanan shut his eyes, apparently in frustration.  Presumably “helpful” wasn’t an appellation he was particularly fond of.

“– though he makes a show of doing otherwise,” Zaluna finished firmly. “He stood up to Count Vidian just today.”

“I saw,” Hera said, remembering the confrontation on Cynda.

“You did?” Kanan blinked.

“You know, getting the attention of someone like that isn’t a very good idea,” Hera found herself saying. “Especially if Vidian’s arresting potential agitators.  I don’t think you’d enjoy spending time in an Imperial prison.”

Zaluna’s already large eyes widened. “Is that – is that where Hetto is?”

“Um –”  That was where he would have gone eventually, if Hera’s mission had gone as planned.  Eventually being the key word.  Now that was out of the question; it wasn’t as though Hera could march up to Count Vidian and demand that he be set free, since there was little chance that Vidian would believe that she was an Imperial agent even if she showed him her badge. From the little she had seen of him, she didn’t think that he would take very kindly to the ISB’s plan to use Hetto to bait other potential agitators on the HoloNet.

Apparently taking Hera’s hesitation as his cue, Kanan leaned over the table and patted Zaluna’s hand. “Maybe your friend’s just in a labor camp.”

Zaluna didn’t look reassured by this news.  Having seen a few Imperial labor camps when she had been in the Academy, Hera couldn’t blame her.

Dragging herself back to the present, Hera took a breath and squared her shoulders. “Hetto was arrested for speaking against the Empire.  How do you feel about the Empire, Zaluna?”

The other woman shifted uneasily, thinking this over.  Finally, she said, “I remember too much.  I remember how it was – and how it got worse, even before the Empire.  I remember when people didn’t kill guildmasters on a whim and walk away without a thought.  And I remember when my people were safe.”  She looked back and forth between Hera and Kanan, her huge dark eyes glistening with tears, then made a small sound that might have been a laugh. “It’s a good thing I disconnected the cams, isn’t it?  That’s the sort of thing I’d flag back at Transcept.  The sort of thing that gets a visit from stormtroopers if the wrong people overhear it.”  She cast a nervous glance around the cantina.

“There are no Imperial agents here, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Kanan said, following her gaze. “These are all one hundred percent pure shovel-carrying drunkards.  I’ve tussled with too many of them to think they’re plants for the Empire.”

Hera bit her lip at his words, though she supposed that did say wonders for her cover. “And you?” she had to ask. “What do you think of the Empire?”

He grinned at her. “As little as possible,” he said. “I could take it or leave it.”

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Arrange the chairs in two or more lines so the students sit facing one other person. If possible put a line of tables in between to make the setup more realistic. Depending on how well your students know each other and your target language , they can either use their real identities or invent a person to play. Students can either keep their own card, or to make things more interesting, put all the cards in a hat and draw a random person. If students used invented people, they can give their impressions of personality, and see if the adjectives they use match what was written on the card. Plus, they can say who they think is the best match for them as a friend, based on hobbies, personality, likes and dislikes. If you wish, they could also do the above as a written activity, as a message to a friend describing how the speed dating went. This is a particularly good idea when your target language is reported speech.

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Practice your English “speed dating” style

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The activity used is a variation on the popular practice of speed dating. In this exercise, students “speed date” each other to practice role plays calling for “chunks” or phrases used for each situation. This type of approach to teaching is based on the lexical spanish or the chunks of language we tend to use to speak about certain situations. Share Flipboard Email. Activity Beare has taught English and English as a second language teacher since.

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In English we can say I absolutely agree but we cannot say I absolutely go; we can say I am interested in, Stand up in the middle of the class for everybody to see you. Speaking activity using the speed-dating technique.

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In the lesson students talk about meeting a partner card dating, watch a short film, and read and discuss speed-dating questions.

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Tenth-graders in Monet Cooper’s English class at Capital City Public Charter School in Washington, DC, engage in a speed-dating critique protocol. They spend.

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Who wouldn’t gear-up with shiny eye implants that do thinking, decorating and planning for you? Related pages : Love. Almost 60 per cent of Internet users said there is nothing wrong with trying to find a partner on the Internet. I call these “Speed Demos” with my students. Next, they present it five times to five different people in the class.

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I am not going to give you an obnoxious list of collocations and ask you to learn them by heart. Step 1. What is a collocation? In English we can say I absolutely agree but we cannot say I absolutely go ; we can say I am interested in , but not I am keen in. Students sit facing each other. Some students will remain seated during the whole event in real speed dating, women remain seated.

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Help Log in Sign up Newsletter. Speed is particularly useful for practising describing appearance, character lessons interests. Preparation You will need a selection lesson flashcards of people, a mixture dating ages and types. Write whatever they lessons you on the board. Note: at first they may be a bit confused and think that they should know the person, they will soon get the idea. You should end up with a paragraph profile of rock person.

English Lesson – Dating and Relationship Vocabulary and Idioms In this lesson Class speed dating esl lesson 6+, preferably an even, equal number of males.

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