#i tried to kms when i was 13 but i had been planning it for a year beforehand bc i was like ‘if shuu tsukiyama dies then im goin too’

[gunkbaby]

people who weren’t around for tokyo ghoul re releasing weekly can never understand the anxiety of the entire community being wholeheartedly convinced shuu was absolutely gonna croak it at any moment

[starburr]

Sasha's not used to the anticipation of having a kid. As much as she's used to and even good at dealing with them, she somewhat detests the idea of being left in the care of one. Much more so emphasized by the fact it was Anne about 6 months along with their kid, her staggering and noticeably more rounded silhouette coming into the doorway, back pain and nausea included.

She felt it was because she didn't feel worthy of raising a kid. That they might get her worst traits, the ugliness in the ways she expressed herself. But Marcy and Anne were far from discouraged by the idea, offering a warm snuggle of arms. The embrace was enough to crack her exterior, everything didn't seem so hard now.

Of course after their little bundle of joy was born, she was happier. Much more at ease with the idea that this was their kid, their first child to raise together. And one to impart better experiences of the world on, more so than the lives they lived. Her own self-worth issues for 13 years or so, Marcy's trauma from a broken home, and Anne having identity issues hitting hard like a semitruck after saving Amphibia. But they did their best. And right now, the household had an additional 7 year old, happy that she had three very loving mothers.

Of course, she still had her lapses in judgement. She lay awake in bed, beside her spouses and daughter, just thinking over things. About last night, she had gotten into a bit of a scuffle. Just down by some bar after taking a detour driving for 2 km back from her shifts. Only a little bit of drinking, not that she ever drank that often, just a simple beer and she planned to head home after. It was a stressful week of work, and only then did she let it slip. Her tiredness and anger already pouring out despite being sober. Perhaps a difficult client or two. Sasha was not even a few sips in when she saw out of the corner of her eye a colleague strolling up. He began asking the usual catching up things, of how she was, how was the family, how's the kid in school, etc etc.

She simply rolled her eyes as she tried to keep herself from ripping him a new one, the beer a cold remedy for this annoyance. And then, a question that almost cost his life.

"So, Anne's okay after that whole pregnancy thing? Forgive me if this sounds a little yknow, personal I guess... But, whose kid is it?"

Sasha gave pause from another sip. You could hear the way her head turned slowly, grinding like an angry whetstone as her eyes fixated to his line of sight. She spoke one word of inquiry.

"What?"

He froze in place, sweat trickling all of a sudden. Perhaps he sensed it was not his place to pry anymore, but maybe the alcohol had gotten to him.

"Oh yknow, like whose kid is it? Like does she look like Marcy or you more, because of the wh-"

Marcy and Anne rushed into the entrance, kid in tow. Her name was Miracle, fitting considering how they'd need one if they found out Sasha was hurt. Not because of the legal troubles, just more so for whoever hurt their wife, that they'd need a miracle if they would ever live to see another day again. She had a stuffed toad in her left hand, clutched tightly as Marcy held her by the other. Anne had already started talking to the front desk, she was obviously distressed. And it was their first time ever going down to a police station. But after what might have been the tired employee giving directions, she shot off without as so much warning Marcy. The latter caught up eventually, Miracle complaining that she was hungry.

"Oh don't worry honey, we'll be home shortly, I promise. Maybe pick you up a nice burger or something on the way, huh?"

The reassurance seemed to work, as she immediately went to humming a tune while rolling her head rhythmically.

As she followed after Anne, a familiar visage came into view. Miracle had not seemed to care, her body language telling Marcy she was tired. So she scooped her up in an embrace as they approached the cell. Just as expected, they saw her. A scarred face, that milky grey left eye, that yellow hair.

"Sasha... Why are you in here?!?!? And on Christmas of all days!" Anne started, hands on her hips as her strained face readied to scream.

"Baby, have I got a story to tell you two!" The blonde merely chuckled, beginning to recount what had happened. It didn't seem to soothe the brunette's worried stance, although her features seemed to soften, even snorting amusedly now and then. Miracle had fallen asleep being carried. Marcy was just relieved she wasn't fussy like earlier, and that the ride home would be peaceful given how her daughter was a deep sleeper. She smiled to herself.

"Some Christmas Miracle... Heh..."

[nickypoppieandel]

13 June 2024: Hawker (population 350)

Below might have some inaccuracies!! There was SO much information, I’ll just do my best - and make up the rest!!!

I will post quite a few photos of our flight over Wilpena Pound and parts of the Flinders and up to Lake Eyre, because there was so much information passed on to us by the pilot. Corey was our pilot. Young and friendly and a good pilot and he was a mine of information. The problem is, the area is so vast, simple cameras just can’t take it in!! So most of the photos will be nameless, as I went click click click.

Our flight took us over Wilpena Pound and north past Leigh Creek and Lyndhurst and Maree. I have a photo of Maree Man (a geoglyph) but it hasn’t synced from my iPhone yet. Maree Man is a bit of a mystery, and there have been lots of stories about mysterious beings. I think the reality is it appeared between May and June 1998, most likely with heavy machinery and most likely by American personnel at Woomera. OR a man from Maree called Bardius Goldberg, who makes things that are visible from space. Many people believe he must have been made using GPS. Maree man’s outline has been enhanced with calcium line so it is easier to see. He can only be seen by air and is 3.5 km from top to bottom, extending over an are of 620 acres. Whoever made him remains a mystery. BUT HE APPEARED IN 1998.

The rest of the flight was filled with the realisation that this part of Australia is VAST and you can’t see the end of it even from the air. Lake Eyre covers 9,700 sq km and is the 4th largest terminal (with no outlet, because it sits at the lowest point below sea level in Australia, leading to high salinity levels) lake in the world. The water has stopped flowing in and the evaporation level is high, so the lake is receding quickly, leaving vast areas of salt. When full, it is nearly 1/6th of Australia (apparently).

So on this 6 hour flight - with a stopover at William Creek Pub on the Oodnadatta Track, for lunch - flew over Wilpena Pound, Heyson’s Ridge (Hans Heysen described the Flinders as “the bones of the earth laid bare”), Lake Torrens, Rawnsley Bluff, Andamooka (owned by the Indigenous Kokotha Pastoral Co and home to apparently the best opals in Australia - population 260; used to be 2000), Leigh Creek, the Leigh Creek copper and coal mines. The coal mine ceased to operate in 2025 and restoration has been planned but nowhere near completed), Lyndhurst , Maree, Stuart Creek Station, Anna Creek Station (the largest cattle station in the world, 24,000 sq km, running between 10 and 17,000 cattle). We landed at William Creek on the Oodnadatta Track and had lunch at the William Creek Hotel. Then back in the Cessna 206 Stationair (!) and headed back, over Dalhunty Island, named after a couple called Dalhunty who would,canoe to the island and monitor bird lifemore lake, more salt, the rabbit proof fence, the Warburton Groove (the water course leading into lake Eyre, fed by rivers in Qld, including the Diamentina and Georgina Rivers), Woomera, more mountains and valleys!!!

It was a day of learning (and forgetting!) but a reminder just how ENORMOUS Australia is and how impossible it seems that people came out with little or no or the wrong information and little equipment and even less knowledge and tried to make a life for themselves.

I will post the photos separately because Imhave lost a whole screed a couple of times when posting photos.

Good night!

[loiswolf]

Day 13 June 9 Whitehorse - Johnson’s Crossing 138kms

Yesterday morning I spent doing some cleaning for Christelle. She seemed very appreciative when she arrived home in the afternoon so I must have done a pretty good job. 😁 In the afternoon I cycled down into Whitehorse to see if Tim Hortons has improved since last year (marginally….at least their wifi worked) then grabbed a couple of things from the supermarket. I’d arranged for Tony to give me another lift back up the hill. It’s almost 8kms and is nearly all uphill.

The plan today was to get as far as I could before the wind increased. The wind yesterday was quite strong and blowing from the south. Fortunately it had eased off this morning because my first 90kms were pretty much cycling south into the wind.

It wasn’t too bad. After the long downhill into Whitehorse the road flattened out. The scenery is not as amazing as it has previously been, but still pleasant enough.

There was a rest stop at 30kms just after this bridge

I stopped for a quick break then moved on. I was hoping that there might be somewhere to get a coffee or something at Marsh Lake at 60kms.

Nup, nothing. I didn’t even see a sealed road leading to this mythical “Marsh Lake “ place. I did see a red fox by the side of the road. We just looked at each other then moved on. As well at the light headwind I’m pretty sure I was pushing up a long very gradual hill for about 15kms.

At 1pm I finally hit my target. It was an abandoned diner called Jakes Corner. ( check the map) I’d managed to push out 90kms and was looking forward to a tail wind because of the sharp bend in the road.

Yes, it worked! I sat on the concrete in front of the closed diner for my lunch break and ate the rest of my Tim Bits ( donut holes) from Tim Hortons.

Most of the hard work done I set off for the final 40+kms.

I was cycling past these huge rocky mountains on my right.

It was mostly downhill and very easy because of the tailwind, but I was quietly stressing about the fact that I had not been able to book a room for tonight. My phone still won’t work here ( I’ve tried everything) and by the time I could borrow Tony’s phone the reception was shut yesterday . I’d try to book on their website and sent them an email requesting a room but had no confirmation back.

This started me worrying that this place was not even open….especially after seeing Jakes Corner.

Then reassurance appeared in the most unlikely form. A blue Ute coming from the other direction passed me, did a u-turn, and pulled up beside me. The gentleman inside said he had something for me. He handed me a bakery box with a pastry and a huge cinnamon bun from Johnsons Crossing!

Not only was I assured of the fact that it was open, I had a feast of goodies!

Only 16kms to go, most of which were downhill.

The next stressful moment was asking if they had a room. Yay! They did! I had to wait 30minutes until it was ready but that’s was absolutely no problem. The nice lady who was baking all the goodies offered me coffee and I already had my afternoon tea. We also exchanged grandchildren photos ( mine are always the cutest) and just bonded in general.

There are only 3 rooms here so I guess someone was looking after me.

This is the bridge which is the crossing

And todays map.

The road ahead is not exactly flush with accommodation so I have managed to organise a short day tomorrow and used the phone here to book the next place. I hate cycling without knowing I’ll have somewhere to stay!!

[hirocimacruiser]

Although Zeroyon lost

After all, the potential is higher than R32

The R33GT-R raises the boost pressure from the R32's 0.78kg/cm to 0.84kg/cm, while improving the cooling efficiency of the intercooler torque has been increased to 37.5kgm, which is a 4.2% increase. With the accumulation of high-response parts in each part, the soup-up was made as part of aiming for "faster", and although the maximum output, which determines the top speed, does not change, the sharpness of acceleration, including starting, is undoubtedly surpassing the conventional model. However, it seems that the weight handicap, which has increased the weight of an adult, weighed heavily, and the result was a slight delay in terms of data.However, if the road surface was not wet, or... make you think

It was a fact. The highest-speed data shows very promising results.

●R33GT-R test data

0-400m acceleration = 13 seconds 01 (169.5km/h)

0-1000m acceleration = 23 seconds 86 (220km/h)

Maximum speed = 262.0km/h

0-100km/h acceleration = 4 seconds 55 (74.3m)

0-180km/h acceleration = 14 seconds 50 (473.1m)

0-250km/h acceleration = 51 seconds 69 (281.8m)

*In parentheses are the speed and new point distance at the time of each data recording.The time required to reach the maximum speed and the distance could not be measured due to deceleration when entering the bank.

(Reference data) R32GT-R

0-400m acceleration = 12 seconds 98, 0-1000m acceleration = 24 seconds 51, maximum speed = 248.0km/h

Unfortunately, it was semi-wet, and the test car had a problem that it got stuck when shifting up to 3rd gear.

Faster than a crunchy WRC machine!

I was surprised to see the test data of the external magazine.

What a NEW GT-R!

A crunchy WRC machine, faster than Works Celica!!! This guy is astonished.

From 0 to 100 km/h, the works Celica was 4.4 seconds faster than the GT-R, but by the time it reached 180 km/h, the GT-R was winning by 1 second. From this data, the Zeroyon is a GT-R.

Negative to R32 up to 400m point

I lost it, but that R33 wins overwhelmingly after the growth. Without waiting for the 1000m point, go out in front of Gungun

Getting into 3rd gear is getting worse

Is it wrong? Time is bad because of the change

__________________________________________

"High-level balance" for running one step ahead of rivals

The GT-R, whose capacity was originally determined in consideration of meeting Group A regulations, does not stand in an advantageous position over its rivals in terms of power performance itself. The maximum output, which is subject to self-regulation, is equivalent to 280ps, but the decisive torque for acceleration performance is relatively thin. Even with the next R33, which is conscious of NI regulations, the essential character remains unchanged. Originally, the GT-R was a car that tried to run fast with the sum of the Attesa ETS, which conveys the full power it has to the road surface, and the handling acquired in the 901 plan. Its dominance remains unwavering.

■ GT-R vs Rival power performance comparison

car name

0~400m acceleration

~1000m acceleration

top speed

LAP

Skyline GT-R

13.01 seconds

23.86 seconds

262.0km/h

1 minute 1.3 seconds

NSX-R

12.74 seconds

24.91 seconds (NSX)

268 km/h

1 minute 5.87 seconds

Supra RZ

13.51 seconds

24.94 seconds

unplanned

1 minute 6.19 seconds

GTO-MR

12.95 seconds

24.61 seconds (GTO)

253.2km/h

1 minute 8.52 seconds

__________________________________________

Zero yon and fuel consumption

The last super weapon of the 20th century

Comfortable "R" after running 700km on public roads and highways

An unrivaled presence. Whether it's running or stopped, the GT-R is still impressive. In addition to the circuit and test course, we also conducted a long-distance drive test to learn about the “GT-R” that could not be understood just by looking at it. The GT-R is also super fuel efficient. A car like this will probably never come out again in this century!!

_________________________________________

Normal GT-R or V-spec, which one is better?!?!?

The development team regards the normal as a successor model of the R33 and the V-spec as a special for advanced users targeting repeaters. The difference is the driving style. While the normal maintains the stability-oriented running of the conventional type, the V-spec adds a backup mechanism in the direction of eliminating delays such as response delay, follow-up delay, and convergence delay as much as possible. It is approaching the destined theme of “faster” through running.

Tires are equipped with specially developed ones. In particular, the Expedia S07 for V spec shines with high performance when attacking

The impression that it bends steadily. How to make the best use of sharp handling is the skill of riding. it's hard to set a time

A normal that makes you think that it is an extension of the R32GT-R. The understeer seen in the R32 is much less, but it still shows up

__________________________________________

Driving changes like this with a rear spoiler from level to 16 degrees

The spoiler is the most sleeping state. The rear lift coefficient in this state is 0.03. Top speed is just 262km/h

0° Angle

■ Maximum speed

When I first saw it, I ran it in a state that seemed to be horizontal, but the engine speed at maximum speed was about 6900 rpm. At this point, it has recorded over 260km/h. Then, I tried it with an angle of attack of 16 degrees, but the number of revolutions dropped by about 300 rpm. It went down to almost the same level of speed as R32. After confirming, the first try was notched. When I tried it again, it increased by several 10 rpm. This variable wing works pretty well.

When the downforce is the most effective (-0.14), the drop speed of 300 rpm at the top end is about 10km/h.

Angle 16°

■ Cornering

I haven't tried it on a handling course, so I don't know the exact point, but it makes a big difference in feeling. Especially when standing at an angle of attack of 16 degrees, the rear is clearly depressed, and the view through the windscreen becomes forward. It may be an illusion due to psychological influence, but it is true that I felt a difference between the horizontal time when I leaned forward a little.

In terms of what I felt on the high-speed circuit, I think I can expect a lot of aerodynamic effects during high-speed cornering.

■ Best setting

When I picked it up for testing, it was notched (6 degrees) from horizontal. Considering the increase in top speed when leveled, the flat set is best for the fastest trials. However, in that case, it is true that I felt uneasy about the straight line stability at high speed. I haven't checked all of them, so it's just a guess, but I wonder if the 6th was the one that met the course conditions this time.

__________________________________________

From Tokyo, take the Kanetsu Expressway to Echigo-Yuzawa in the snow. A GT-R that can never cruise comfortably on a rutted highway

Kyoru Koichi Higashiaide

The R33GT-R showed its super potential as expected on the circuit and test course. But for us, driving on public roads is what we care about the most. On winding roads, it fully demonstrates the wonderful potential it showed on the circuit and test course. As expected of a GT-R!! The wide and low profile tires 245/45-17 have a big influence on the ruts. It takes a lot of force to hold the steering wheel down to keep it going straight, and it gets tiring over long distances. High pre-resistance is also quite severe.

__________________________________________

2.5km/ℓ average 5.7km/ℓ in full test.

GT-R boasting super potential

In order to actually maintain it as one's own car, fuel consumption is also a point that cannot be ignored. I measured the fuel consumption even though I thought it was a joke. Of course, considering general usage conditions, no special eco-runs were performed. 4.71km/l on general roads in Tokyo and 5.79km/l on highways are average figures for this class.

In Yatabe with full boost, it's only 2.54km/Q...... //

● After all, "R" was a reasonable fuel consumption

driving conditions

distance

total fuel consumption

Km/L fuel consumption

General road in Tokyo

184.0km

39.0 L

4.71km/L

highway

277.4km

47.9 L

5.79km/L

slightly congested highway

191.9km

39.0 L

4.92 km/L

Yatabe full test

148km

58.2 L

2.54km/L

Strongest, fastest, newest

New Model Dengeki Impression

GT-R complete dissection

final

GT-R all data NO words

Unsinkable Legend Again

After all, the GT-R was the champion. Five years after the release of the R32, which boasted overwhelming performance, the amazing potential of the new GT-R, which has transformed into a more powerful one, is presented by Fushiki.

Etsuro thoroughly analyzed based on the data!!!

Tsukuba lap time is 1 minute 7 seconds 00

1:07:19 This was my best lap. In order to get a super lap in the R33GT-R, it is essential to have a driving image and skills accumulated from a wealth of experience. This is especially the case with the V-spec, which put all its energy into shortening the circuit lap. The pursuit of high response was attempted with the V-spec, which aimed even higher. It is an approach that cuts losses in each phase of calling, starting with braking, turn-in, turning drive, and full acceleration. Considering the restriction that the basic components are common, this is the only direct attack method. For that purpose, the Atesa E-TS Pro, Active LSD, and Hard Suspension & Expedia have been prepared. Satisfaction cannot be obtained without a high-density cornering image. The R33GT-R V-spec is in a higher dimension than Fushiki-level amateurs can reach.

_______________________________________________

R33GT-R's amazing performance, weaknesses all revealed

Zeroyon 13 seconds 01. How do you feel when you see this time? Embarrassed, Fushiki also thought so while testing. If I hadn't entered the 12-second range at the very least, I would have felt that speed... This is a scary story when you think about it. Because the course condition is completely wet where you can't expect enough traction. The R33 is 60kg heavier than the R32. Judging from the given conditions, it's definitely not a slow time. With the engine kept at 8,000 rpm, the rocket start was completed simply by connecting the clutch. Drive loss is minimal. And if you keep stepping on the throttle while paying attention to shift mistakes, you can get this time even in the rain. Do you have any complaints?

Zeroyon is 13.01 in the wet

_______________________________________________Maximum speed is 262.0km/h

262.0km/h. My hunch was right. Through Zeroyon and Zerohan measurement points. Enter the maximum speed trial as it is. Already reached over 200km/h in 4th gear when entering the first bank. Use up 8000 rpm in 4th gear in the north bank and shift up to 5th gear. I was able to confirm that when I ran through the back straight with all my strength on my right leg, it extended to about 6950 rpm in 5th gear. Considering the R32 was saturating at 6500rpm and stopping at around 250km/h, it wasn't until we got out of the car after testing that we knew this was to be expected. It can be said that aerodynamic sophistication won the game, but running on wet roads was ???. Straight line stability is quite nervous.

[dailyunsolvedmysteries]

Disappearance of Steven Koecher

On December 10, 2009, Koecher apparently left St. George in the early morning hours and drove his Chevrolet Cavalier 300 miles (480 km) north on Interstate 15 to Salt Lake City, where he bought some gas with a debit card. He then travelled west on Interstate 80 another 125 miles (201 km) to West Wendover, Nevada, where he again pulled off the highway to refuel. After that he continued another 100 miles (160 km) to the Ruby Valley ranch of the Neff family.

Koecher had in the past dated Annemarie Neff and visited the ranch; he told her parents, who had not been expecting him, that he thought he would stop in to see her. She was not there, but the Neffs served Koecher lunch anyway. He told them he was on his way to visit family in Sacramento, California, but was not certain whether he could continue in that direction due to bad weather. After two hours he left, and decided to return to St. George the way he had come, stopping to buy gas again in Salt Lake City and Springville, followed by dinner at a Taco Time in Nephi. By the time Koecher returned home he had driven nearly 1,100 miles (1,800 km).

During the day Koecher talked with his mother on the phone. The two discussed his plans for returning to the family's Bountiful home for Christmas. Koecher's mother said he seemed upbeat about the upcoming holiday and his job prospects despite his financial difficulties. He did not tell her of his road trip that day.

The next day, while handing out flyers for his employer, Koecher encountered two young girls who had inadvertently been locked out of their family's apartment. Learning of their plight, he tried to call their mother. When she did not answer, he looked for someone in the neighborhood who could take them in temporarily until someone arrived who could let them in. That same day, Koecher spoke with his ward's bishop, who also described Koecher's mood as positive. The bishop was also trying to help him, and had promised Koecher he would have a job available by the beginning of 2010.

On December 12, Koecher again hit the road. That morning his phone pinged a cell tower near Overton, Nevada, at the north end of Lake Mead. In the evening he bought gas and snacks at a convenience store in Mesquite, Nevada, along I-15, just over the Arizona state line. Why Koecher went to Nevada that day is unknown; three hours after his Mesquite purchase, Koecher bought a baby's bib and cookies, believed to be Christmas gifts for his brother and his family, whose names he had drawn in the family's annual Christmas gift exchange, at a Kmart outside St. George.

A neighbor of Koecher's recalled seeing him return to his apartment around 10 p.m. A half-hour later, he left again; while he was not seen to return later that night it was possible he could have. The next morning, December 13, Webb called Koecher, saying he was on his way back from Las Vegas and feared he might not make it to St. George in time for the 11 a.m. service, asking if Koecher could lead it in his absence. Koecher said he, too, was in the Las Vegas area, 150 miles (240 km) away, but would return home if needed. Webb told him not to worry and that he would try to get back in time. Another ward member called again later that morning with a similar request, which they dropped when Koecher told them where he was. Neither he nor Webb asked Koecher why he had gone to the Las Vegas area that morning; they found nothing unusual about their conversations with him.

At 11:54 a.m., a home security camera on Savannah Springs Avenue in Sun City, a retirement community in the Anthem development in southern Henderson, recorded Koecher's car driving into the cul-de-sac where it was later found. Six minutes later, a figure believed by his family to be Koecher, wearing a white shirt and slacks, walked the opposite direction down the sidewalk in front, carrying something in one hand that appeared to be a file folder or portfolio. Shortly afterwards another security camera in a garage on adjacent Evening Lights Street caught his reflection as he walked north. Koecher has not been seen since.

Koecher's phone remained active. Around 5 p.m. that day it pinged a tower at the intersection of Arroyo Grande Boulevard and American Pacific Drive, more than 10 miles (16 km) northeast of where he had parked. Two hours after that, it pinged another tower near Henderson's Whitney Ranch subdivision, two miles (3.2 km) north of the previous ping. Early the next morning, the phone pinged a tower at the interchange between Interstate 515/U.S. Route 93 and Russell Road, two more miles to the north. Koecher's landlord sent a text, and then an hour later it was used to check Koecher's voicemail. The phone remained in that tower's vicinity for the next two days, suggesting that its battery died. There has been no activity since.

A day after that last ping, Sun City's homeowners' association parking enforcement took note of the car at the end of the Savannah Springs cul-de-sac and tried to find its owner. Through theiwindows they saw one of the flyers Koecher had been distributing for the window-washing company in St. George and called the number on it. Eventually they spoke with the owner, who gave them Koecher's cell phone number, where they left a voicemail. Later they called his mother; she returned their call on December 17, and, realizing no one else in the family had talked to him in a week and were unable to locate him, reported him missing. Koecher's brother and sister drove to St. George from the Salt Lake City area to start searching.

The case remains unsolved.

[midweekblues]

The Terror, Géricault and a bit of Julian Barnes: a rant

Part 2 /?

Hello, it's me again! With more random data about a certain 19th century nautical tragedy! Come for the trivia, stay for the cannibalism!

I dunno, man, I just dig these stories. Which is weird, having worked and lived at sea, but whatever. The Terror connects to a very primal part of my brain, the same part that buzzes when I read about the wreck of the Essex, the Donner Party, Scott's final expedition or the Edmund Fitzgerald. There's a theme going on here. So back to the wreck it is!

On the first part of Chapter 5 of A History of the world in 10 1/2 chapters, Julian Barnes gives us a summary of the ordeal on board the Medusa. To summarize even more:

- French frigate Medusa struck a reef off the coast of Senegal in 1816.

- Not everyone could fit into the boats, so a raft was built. 17 people decided to stay on board the half-sunk frigate, rather than brave the ocean on that construction.

- The raft was so overcrowded that it was actually underwater in the beginning. To lighten the load so it wouldn't sink completely, they had to discard most of the food brought on board, and all of their water, leaving only wine to drink. Most of their food (mainly flour and biscuits) was at some point submerged and thus ruined by the saltwater. .

So all our supplies are either spoiled or will make us prone to delirium?  

- The raft was expected to be towed by the boats, but during the first day, "one by one, whether for reason or self-interest, incompetence, misfortune or seeming necessitty, all the tow-lines were cast aside", and so the raft was left adrift.

- On the second day, three men gave up and, "convinced that there was no escape from death, bade farewell to their companions and willingly embraced the sea".

- On the second night, there was not one but two mutinies on the raft. After the struggle, 60 remained on board.

- On the third day, they started eating some of the dead.

- After the third night, 12 more people had died. 11 of them were cast into the sea, but one body was kept on board, "reserved against their hunger".

- On the fourth night, yet another mutiny. After all the violence, a total of 30 survivors remained on the raft.

- On the seventh day, two soldiers were caught stealing wine from one of the remaining caskets. They were executed by throwing them to the sea. 

-That left 27 survivors, only 15 of them healthy enough to survive more than a few days. Their resources were extremely limited, with less than a cask of wine for drinking, and only human flesh for food. "To put the sick on half allowance was but to kill them by degrees. And thus, after a debate in which the most dreadful despair presided, it was agreed among the fifteen healthy persons that their sick comrades must, for the common good of those who might yet survive, be cast into the sea", Barnes tells us. "The healthy were separated from the unhealthy like the clean from the unclean".

There’s been a vote, Edward

- After that, the survivors decided to cast all their arms into the sea, except one sabre, "lest some rope or wood might need cutting".   Fun fact: the equipment of modern lifeboats includes not only food, water and a first aid kit, but also 1 (one) boat axe. And the reason for this is exactly the same: just in case some rope or plastic/fiberglass might need cutting . 

(My face during that particular safety training)

- And then

wait for it

a white butterfly showed up.

Now of course, that would be a good sign, right? Not because it works great as a symbol on an artistic level (looking at you, Peter Jackson), but in this case it does work on a logical level: How far away can a freaking butterfly fly? It must mean that land is near, right? Just like, dunno, same way that an arctic bird, preying mainly on fish, wouldn't stray too far away from open water, so it must mean there are leads relatively nearby, right?

Right? :____(

The survivors of the Medusa did not spot land anywhere. And our Cold Boys didn't find any leads. Life is a bitch like that sometimes. Géricault could have chosen to depict this moment in his painting, but he didn't. "First, it wouldn't look like a true event, even though it was," says Barnes. As viewers, we know this. We are ready to accept a white butterfly showing up somewhere in the Misty Mountains over Khazad-dûm to save our favorite wizard, but on a real story, a real tragedy, it wouldn't work, it would be too on-the-nose. And so the butterfly and the bird both fly away, and nothing changes, and the tragedy goes on.

- On day 10, eight of the survivors of the Medusa, convinced that land must be within reach, built another, smaller raft, from pieces of the first one, upon which to escape. But as soon as they tried it, they realised it was too frail, and gave up on the plan.

- On day 13, they sighted the Argus. This is the moment that Géricault depicts, when they first spot a ship on the horizon.

See it there? Just look where all the guys are looking (well, not all of them, but more on that later)

Yep, that's a ship, that tiny little thing on the horizon, against the rosy sky (is it dawn, or dusk, by the way? What do you guys think?), not bigger than a butterfly. Pretty impressive to have the whole composition of this massive painting, and the attention of everyone depicted, gravitate away from the viewer. Literally no one in this painting gives a flying fuck about the viewer because their eyes are fixated on their only hope, a ship that looks like it might just disappear at any moment...

Which is exactly what it did.

My dudes, this painting, and the story behind it, is peak Romanticism. The drama.

The Argus was visible for about a half hour. It gave no sign of having spotted the raft. And then it disappeared.

Ok but wait a minute, so didn't they get rescued? Well yes they did. That's how we know what happened.

The survivors watched the ship disappear, fell into despair and decided, like many of us do on one of those days, that a nap might help. So they "rigged a piece of cloth as a shelter from the sun, and lay down beneath it"

And then a couple hour later, one of them went to the front of the raft, out of the canvas, and saw the Argus half a league away (that's less than 3 km), "carrying a full press of sail, and bearing down upon them".

If this wasn’t real, we’d call it lazy writing. I mean, typical cliffhanger, our hero is gonna die, all hope is lost, finish episode there. And then next week, boom, of course the hero is saved within the first five minutes. Ugh. But life is badly written like that sometimes.

And so they were saved. Well, five of them died in the days after their rescue. Which leaves us with a total of 10 survivors from the Raft. 

Géricault read the account from Savigny and Corréard sometime in the winter 1817-1818. The painting was finished in July 1819. And sometime in 1820, Captain Crozier saw it in London, while he was on leave before joining Parry on an Arctic expedition in 1821.

And this is getting long, so I'm gonna leave it here for now. Next part will be about the parallels I see between the actual painting and the show.  If you made it all the way here: Thanks for reading! 

(here’s part 1 and part 3 )

[purplesurveys]

1271

survey by lets-make-surveys

1 - When was the last time you were at the beach? What did you do there? 2019. It was a daytrip with a few friends, and for the most part we had just sat by the sand and then taken dips in the water whenever we felt like it. We went when there was supposed to be a typhoon entering the city so the resort was literally empty. Anyway, it was a spur-of-the-moment thing that would’ve been such a fun and wholesome memory in my head if not for the fact that my ex tagged along for that trip.

2 - When was the last time you updated your profile picture somewhere? What is your current photo of? A week or so ago, I think? I had had a few drinks and tipsy-me changed my profile photo to something goofy; by the time I woke up the next day I just changed it right back to the profile picture I had before the change.

3 - Who was the last person you spoke to online? How do you know this person? Someone from HR since I did a minor booboo on the website where we have to clock in and out, and I was asking how I could help fix it.

4 - When was the last time you got a blister on your foot? A fewwww months ago, I wanna say? I remember struggling when I recently bought a pair of adidas sneakers.

5 - What was the last reason for taking painkillers? Did they work to make you feel better? I only ever take painkillers for my headaches. Yeah, they always work.

6 - Which do you prefer - Facebook, Instagram, Tumblr or TikTok? Ooh idk. I enjoy each of them for different reasons, but I guess I’ll go with Facebook since I never run out of funny content/memes over there. TikTok I like too but then again all the TikTok clips I run into are on Facebook anyway.

7 - If you drive, how much does it cost for you to fill your car up? If we’re going from a nearly-empty tank, I think it takes roughly around P1500 to fill it up, or roughly $30.

8 - When was the last time you walked over five miles in one day? Maybe last July when I went to the mall with friends. I remember doing quite a lot of walking that day and I’m sure the total distance was more than five miles.

9 - What's your favourite brand of ice-cream and which flavour from that brand do you like best? I don’t really like ice cream, but I guess the yummiest I’ve had are Aice’s coffee ice cream and Ben & Jerry’s chocolate chip cookie dough.

10 - Are you a fan of scented candles? If so, what kind of scents do you like the most? I am a fan, but it’s not something I’m obsessed with enough to buy for myself. I’ve gotten scented candles as gifts and I can live off of those alone, lol. As for scents, I like ocean-y or sweet ones, like cinnamon.

11 - What did you order the last time you went out for a meal? The last time I went out for a meal...I think that was Taco Bell. I got one of their burritos and some deep-fried side, but I don’t remember which one it was. But right now I literally also just placed an order from KFC; I got a Double Down (FINALLY), and two orders of Fun Shots – one for me and another for the delivery guy as a way to thank him for taking my order at midnight. 

12 - Who was the last person to visit your house? What were they there for? Ooh we haven’t received visitors in a while. I wanna say the last guests were still Angela and Hans, from the time we watched Sowoozoo together.

13 - If you could change one thing about your appearance, what would it be and why? I’d fix my teeth so I can finally feel entirely confident when smiling.

14 - How many miles/km's do you drive/walk on an average day? LOL like 0.5. I’m always at home.

15 - What's more annoying, a stone in your shoe or an eyelash in your eye? STONE IN SHOE. It hurts like hell and I have to stop whatever I’m doing to get it out, too.

16 - Do you get your groceries delivered or do you prefer to go the store yourself to pick them? I don’t do the family’s groceries but when I’m craving a snack or need toiletries for myself or whatever, I order online.

17 - How many surveys would you say you take a week, on average? Probably like 5 or 6. I only ever get to take them during the weekends now, but occasionally I’ll get to sneak in one or two in the middle of the week.

18 - What percentage is your phone battery on right now? 76%.

19 - What have you had to eat/drink so far today? Are you planning to have anything else before you go to bed? I had chicken fillet with rice for dinner, andddd that’s all I had for today haha. Right now I’m just waiting for my order to arrive. I do feel bad for giving into a craving but I’m trying to justify it by saying, 1) I literally sponsored three birthdays in the last two weeks, 2) this work week had been particularly been brutal, and 3) the Double Down is a limited-time offer thing so best to get it before it randomly disappears again for the next like three years. 

20 - Have you ever donated to anyone's GoFundMe before? I don’t think so, no. But I’ve shared links.

21 - Have you ever won money on a scratch-card or lottery ticket? What did you spend it on? Nope.

22 - What was the last reason for you to leave your house? I went to Angela’s house for her birthday last Wednesday.

23 - Assuming you had all the money, space and knowledge necessary, what animal(s) would you love to keep as a pet? I’d still choose a dog.

24 - How many times a week do you get takeaway food/drink? I try not to make it into a habit. I get food delivery probably only once or twice a month.

25 - Are there any pets in the room you're in right now? What are they doing? Nope. Both dogs are downstairs.

26 - What was the last thing you took a photo off? Did you upload it onto social media anywhere? Yeah, Anj gave me Taehyung’s Persona postcard. Funny story about that; she had kept pushing it onto me but I vehemently refused because it’s her merch, until she finally said, “it’s fake, just take it” for me to take the bait. A day later she messaged me saying, “by the way the postcard’s an original” :------) Anyway after that I took a photo and uploaded it so I can thank her.

27 - How long have you know the friend you've known the longest? It’s 16 years this year.

28 - Have you ever had a job where you had to wear a uniform? No. We have a dress code, but no uniform.

29 - What time do you tend to get up/go to bed on a weekday? 8:30 AM/1 or 2 AM.

30 - What's your soda/soft drink of choice? I don’t like soda and I try to remain un-into it, but I tried Pepsi a few months ago and actually liked it, so I guess we can go with that.

[tales-of-togetherness]

something about me:

I was too little (7 years old) when i was sent to a boarding school.  To be honest, it was amazing to be living with so many kids of my age and above. my school had a beautiful campus and the best teachers. That became my home, where is discovered myself, my personality, what i wanted to become when i grow old and everything. I could say that more than my parents, my teachers have groomed me. After my 12th class, i passed out of school while surprisingly topping my batch in board exams. Being an average student throughout this was a shock to many and surprise to all, including my teachers!  well, this was a turning point in my life, i set new standards at home, for being the best child. My siblings and cousins were made to look upon me.  I never planned at that moment what i wanted to do when i grow up, after discussions at home, we apparently randomly planned on to aim for Civil Services (bureaucracy) and i was full of zeal to achieve this dream of me and my family. The luck had been in my favor and i got admissions in yet again one of the best colleges of Delhi University- Miranda House (a women’s college btw). this was the 2nd turning point in my life. Little girl according to my family and the first person stepping out of home city to study at a higher level, that too in Delhi around 900 kms far away! I was happy for this new phase in my life.  like i said the luck had been in my favor, i met people, i never realised would become so important to me. They became my best friends. within few months of being in Delhi, i met the love of my life. I never realised my potential to give love or let’s call it fall for love until i met him. I don’t know what i saw in him, i still don’t know, but this man became so important to me that Delhi became about him. I thought i was okay, until he kissed me, touched me, made love to me. before this, i only felt love, now i knew what it tasted like, how it smelled. I was subsumed with this emotion. Slowly this feeling just grew. He spoilt me with his kisses and made me want more. I dont know how i always ended up wanting things in this relationship be it time/love/attention. Well this is a different story. I grew so much as a person, i became so independent, i was happy and thriving. I had a feminist awakening, i could understand all the goods and the evils of society and had so much aspirations for a better world/future. I got wings and they gave birth to who i am today. The luckiest girl, i’d call myself. The best parents, sacrificing so much for my education, the best school, college, friends and love! But unfortunately i forgot where i belonged from. The 13 years of living outside made me forget my family background and the orthodox and patriarchal setting of our family. Yes no compromise in education, but still, a girl will not a tell man what is right. The father will never accept when he is wrong. The girl shall behave, dress proper, sit proper, say polite, adjust, and accept that she belongs to the lower status category, what they call “aurat jaat” in Hindi. Living outside blinded me with this reality and the world which i was living in became surreal to me, just like a fantasy world that every little girl not as lucky as me would dream of while being captive in their own houses.  This i realized when i came back to my home suddenly due to COVID lockdown and its been 8th months since then. So after complete 13 years, i’ve been home for the first time for this long. THE MAJOR TURNING POINT IN MY LIFE UPTILL NOW. All my myths shattered, all my wings chopped off, all my dreams for the better brighter world being shut down, here i am writing all this down because i don't have a voice left to say anything. its my my body which is arrested, my family has arrested my mind and my soul to roam free. HEIGHTS OF PATRIARCHY is what i saw, something i only read in text books in my bachelors and newspapers.  My father heard me talking to my boyfriend some things he shouldn’t have and there came a literal storm in my house, with my father threatening me that he will get me married as soon as possible, won’t let me study further, because according to him apparently this is what i have been doing all these years in Delhi. He threatened me by saying he would die before i do anything like falling in love.  Only i knew, how much sacrifices i had made to achieve what i have today, how hard i have worked to study just to make them happy and proud of their daughter! How easy was it for them, to pass this off while saying these lines. Now im scared to call him, or any of my friends because i don't want them assuming im doing something “wrong”. I have to go to Delhi to get my stuff that i left there in my apartment, and they won’t let me go alone. They want to send my mother along to keep an eye on me, so that i dont hangout with my boyfriend.  With this, i feel disgusted with myself and my parents. I feel the unluckiest to be born in this family. I never felt i would disrespect and hate them so much.  All these years i tried to be the best... and for what? i did everything as they liked, to make them happy... but for what? For being trapped in their fully furnished little princess castle that they claim to be complete with all demands that may arise for a person, trapped in beautiful clothes and they’ve brought me so i feel beautiful just to only look in the mirror.  I have the books that broaden my vision and the door remains shut. They think they are perfect parents, who have given my everything a girl needs, but unfortunately, they didn't give me “freedom” which was apparently most necessary. My parents would call other parents (who let their children be free)- “rich and spoilt”, they would abuse men of my age and called them “selfish” to make us stay away from men.  THEY PASS IT OFF CALLING IT “CARE”, THEY DONT REALISE IT IS THEIR “INSECURITY”. THEY PASS IT OFF CALLING THIS MY “HOME”, FOR ME ITS A “CAGE”. -TalesOfTogetherness

-A

[metaldragoon]

2020 wasn’t that bad of a year for me.  I had to make a couple sacrifices; no basketball and no swimming, but otherwise my life was pretty un-disturbed.  I wasn’t able to visit my family but I don’t even have a good relationship with them so “missing holidays” with them also meant “not having extreme anxiety about not being a disappointment.”  I like going out to eat at restaurants and obviously couldn’t do that either, but it also meant “you have a lot of money saved up now.”  So I don’t even consider either of those negatives.  Swimming is a bummer though, I had a bit of an ambition to start triathlon training and I really suck at swimming.  My goal was 750m in 10 minutes, but it was a struggle to even swim 750m a day and it’d take me about 20 minutes.  I think I was down to like 17 or 18 minutes when the pool closed down but I still had a long, long way to go.  My best friend is a lifeguard and he said 10 minutes isn’t that hard, and while he’s obviously a little detached from what a normal swimming time is for an untrained swimmer, I was mind-blown by him doing 50m in 25 seconds with literally never trying to time himself once in his life.  750m 10 minutes is also the minimum requirement to be a lifeguard where he works he said, so that’s why I made it my goal.  But that will take a little while longer before I can ever get back in to it.  Transitioning to the subject of basketball, I used to play quite a lot in my youth and as a 6′5″ guy with some good athleticism you know I don’t need any sort of skill to still be good.  But having the knees of an 80 year old make it an issue with basketball being like the most loading-all-your-weight-directly-in-to-your-knees sport in the world.  I believe it was around 2014 when I stopped playing in leagues and this year I was planning on reuniting with my old high school friends to enter some tournaments this year and terrorize northern BC and AB.  I’m not as explosive any more so I was hoping to hit the gym and work on my outside shot ‘cause I at least know I will always be a good defender with my size and intelligence, and I went to one single pick up game this year, the same night Rudy Gobert tested positive for COVID.  It went okay, I had 0 stamina and even trying to rebound a basketball felt awkward much less lining up a jump shot, and then the guys I met up with were like “okay that’s the last game of the year” and I haven’t been able to ball since.   But there was a decent amount of positives.  I rolled through year 3 of my marriage and I think it’s going pretty swimmingly.  No children yet though I’d still like some, but every year I kind of keep thinking “wow I’m so much more knowledgeable and in a more stable position in my life, thank god I didn’t introduce a child in to my previous environment.”  Not that I’m a toxic shithead where no child can thrive, but I just think the more I wait the more super-father I can become.  It’s always been like a life ambition to be a parent for me, like it felt important that my life is incomplete if I’m not able to do this and a lot of that also meant procreating and y’know, my child being a tall white quarter scottish/norweigan infant, but I’ve definitely been coming around to adoption and now don’t really care about having a child who has the same genetic information as me.  I guess that’s all I have to say for now, wife and I are still discussing it and I’m sure it’ll be a few years, but, just a change of perspective I’ve had. I hopped back on to my Tetris grind recently as I’ve had four weeks off of holidays all packed in to the end of the year, I think it’ll be a trend that continues, but I don’t know for sure or anything.  I made sort of a break through in controls that helped optimize my play a lot, and just last week I was able to get PBs in APM and 20/40/1000 line sprints from about a year and a half ago, so I’ve already adjusted to the changes that took me a while to get used to.  My 20 and 40 line times are 30.626 and 60.708 seconds which is a little frustrating how close I am to clearing those rounded number milestones, but that’s a goal for 2021 I suppose.  I could probably break them right now but just haven’t gotten lucky.  I question if my fingers can really get any faster though, I think hand speed is a hard thing to develop as an old man, but world record is almost 4x faster so at the same time it’s a little foolish of me to think I’m near any sort of physical limit. My other last tangible success is running.  I haven’t run since mid November because of winter in Edmonton ain’t worth it to me, I literally took all my holidays in winter simply for the sake of not having to drive to work as often.  But yeah, I was definitely in the best running shape of my life.  I’d been tracking my PRs all year, I’ll just quickly list them 100m: 13.8 200m: 33.3 400m: 1:08 800m - 2:48 1000m - 3:31 1 mile - 6:19 2 mile - 13:23 5K - 21:12 10K - 43:36 15K - 1:13:58 10 mile - 1:19:29 20K - 1:38:54 Half Marathon - 1:44:04 A lot of these I didn’t particularly work on setting, they just happened to get recorded by my watch while I was running longer distances.  I’m not a sprinter at all as my times clearly indicate, I think anything under 1KM times are all pretty accomplishable by anyone who wants to work on them.  I used to be run low 12 for 100m but I think I’m too old for that these days, the 200m was literally the first time I ever ran it, I just was never interested back when I was in track as a kid, 400m is kind of disappointing too because I was running 1:21 when I was 10 years old and I’ve only managed to shave 13 seconds off.  800 was just on the way to some other run so I don’t even really count it as a time, I think I could have definitely been 2:35 if I tried.  3:31 for the 1KM I did once to try and pace my friend for 3:45 and then I sprinted the last 200m so I coulda been quicker there, 1 mile I never attempted to run but I really wanted to get sub 6 minutes, I think I could but I’m not sure why I never attempted to run one.  2 mile is something I actually did run a lot, my neighbourhood is 2.5 KM, 3.2 KM is 2 miles, so I would quite often run it in the morning.  My ultimate goal for a pace is 4:12/KM so once I hit that with my 2 mile run (4:10/KM pace) I didn’t push it further.  5KM and 10KM were both done on track where I actually spent the few surrounding days prepping for my run and are the two I’m proudest of, particularly the 10 KM, and the longer distances were all just set while I was trying to run a half marathon.  My goal is an hour and a half for the half marathon, so while 14 minutes doesn’t seem extremely far it still is quite tough for me, I need to shave 45 seconds every KM 21 times in a row.  I signed up for my first half marathon since 2014 for September 2021.  My official PB is only 1:51 so I’m already better than I ever was, but I hope to train all year to shave off that last 14 minutes.  My tangible improvement on a weekly basis with running was pretty comforting for my mental health.  29 has always been the age of physical peak for men, everything beyond is a decline until the end, but I never really felt plateaued throughout this year.  I ran over 1200 KM last year, the last half of the year I was going for 50KM a week which I’m hoping to keep up again this year while also pushing even further as long as my body can hold up.  I still get a lot of stingy injuries that cause me to miss a couple days here or there, but for the most part it went pretty well.   Uh, I don’t even know what the point of writing all this was I guess.  Just wanted to share that I continued to progress in life, which I guess is the only purpose I have in life, continue to better my life, and I can definitely say I’m better now than I was a year ago, and looking forward to continue an upward trajectory for 2021.  Happy New Years.

[micahcharlson]

More Briefly(?)

Is It Time to Rethink Swain's Sequels?

I’ve been wanting to follow up on my last post for some time, but every time start to dig in I get overwhelmed by the sheer size of it.

And if I, who wrote it, am having trouble, I have to believe most of you are also.

To that end I’m reposting it, in an attempt to summarize what I was really trying to say.

In particular, I’m going to be ripping apart the comments that were copied into that post and selecting only what’s necessary for understanding my point.

In this version of this post, I’ll still be keeping some good deal of the original post entirely though. And, to clarify things a bit more, I’ve added some section headers to set off different areas of the post, and added an area where I summarize what the key point of that section is. Occasionally I’ve tried to add paragraph breaks and other whitespace to give the post a less dense look for improved readability.

Somewhat briefer, then:

This article is in response to a guest post by Peter von Stackelberg on K.M. Weiland’s blog, and what he had to say about creating scene structure (An Intuitive 4-Step Process for Creating Vibrant Scene Structure), as well as the questions it raised for myself and others.

An understanding of Dwight V. Swain’s Scene and Sequel technique is necessary for every writer hoping for success, but if you’re unfamiliar with it then reading Weiland’s series on How to Structure Scenes in Your Story should get you up to speed.

This will be my attempt to synthesize Swain’s concepts with what von Stackelberg had to say about creating scene structure, specifically regarding how I feel von Stackelberg’s concepts fits into Swain’s. (It’s entirely possible I’ll find it makes more sense looking at it the other way around—how Swain’s concepts fit into von Stackelberg—though when all’s said and done, I’ve knows about Swain’s work longest.)

When relying on comments left on Weiland’s blog, I’ll give credit to the commenter and note the time/date of their comment.

To begin…

My Initial Thoughts

Here are my initial thoughts before reading any of the comments readers left. That is, my initial thoughts based solely on von Stackelberg’s post.

I believe before implementing von Stackelberg’s four questions under “Scene Structure as a Writing Template”, writers must understand the character’s scene goal.

Once the character’s scene goal has been determined, it’s possible to proceed to those four questions. After they’re used to flesh out the scene, they can be interwoven into Swain’s scene structure. Sequels are another matter entirely.

The resulting merging of the steps looks like this:

Step 1: Identify the POV character’s immediate goal for this new Scene.

Step 2: Determine what the Scene’s Peak action is.

Step 3: Identify what set into motion the Peak action? What is the Initiate element?

Step 4: What is the result of the Peak action? What is the Release?

Step 5: Where did this all happen? When? Who was involved? This is the Establish element.

Step 6: Fill in Orienting information about the setting, timing, or context of the scene which will help the reader understand the where, when, and who of the scene.

Step 7: Fill in additional Details about character’s, settings, or significant objects in the Initiate (or, sparingly, the Release) elements.

Step 8: Add Prolongs, additional actions that prolong the overall action, to create suspense—which heightens dramatic tension—typically in the Initiate sequence (or, rarely, in the Release sequence.)

Step 9: Write the Sequel (Reaction, Dilemma, Decision) as normal, creating the character’s goal for the next scene.

Key Point of My Initial Thoughts

I believed scenes and sequels were alike, yet different from each other.

My Subsequent Thoughts (During/After Reading Comments)

Reading through all the comments forced me to reconsider some of what I earlier determined to be true. In the comments below, I’ve italicized items of particular interest.

On the topic of cliffhangers:

Based on this snip from a comment from Peter Moore (JULY 13, 2020 AT 12:52 PM):

How do scenes that end with heightened tension fit into this scene structure?

And this snip from von Stackelberg’s response (JULY 13, 2020 AT 1:58 PM):

From the story flow perspective, this kind of cliffhanger is very disruptive for a couple of reasons:

It leaves readers hanging without any sort of resolution to what happened in the scene.

It disrupts the flow of the story because you then need to have the Release at the beginning of the next chapter/scene or, if there are intervening chapters/scenes, at the beginning of the scene where you return to the part of the storyline where you left off with the cliffhanger. The research (and I tend to be a believer in research) tells us that the sequence of Establish > Initiate > Peak > Release is important for readers/viewers understanding of what happens in a scene.

As a writer, I want my scenes to end in a way that prompts readers to move on to the next chapter.

You can certainly do it by going Release (for previous scene) > Establish > Initiate > Peak. However, as both a writer and a reader, that sequence of elements leaves me feeling unsatisfied. I want some sort of conclusion to the scene.

I think the answer to “Where do you end a chapter?” is not in moving the Release to some other chapter, but to focus on using the Release as a place where you basically let your audience know whether the scene’s main character achieved his/her scene goal. The suspense comes not from withholding information (i.e. the Release), but by adding a tidbit of new information.

For example, your protagonist has achieved (or not achieved) his/her scene goals but…is now in deeper doo-doo because…

This raising and releasing of dramatic tension is a real challenge to pull off. Once you master it, however, you are well on your way to writing some real page-turners.

And this response (JULY 22, 2020 AT 11:07 PM):

Your comment about not liking cliffhangers resonated with me. Giving the reader more information to ratchet up the tension is so much more difficult but also more organic/less contrived.

But more relevant information, that builds on what the reader already knows, thrusts/carries the reader forward into the next scene with the confidence that their questions are going to be resolved. They are eager to read to the end of the next scene.

I must conclude that a scene isn’t finished until the Release has been incorporated. The resulting suspense isn’t built so much from “What happened next?” as it is from the reader asking “How did what happened just affect the character, thereby changing the character’s thinking, plans, and the character’s core being?”

Key Point on the Topic of Cliffhangers

Suspense at the end of a scene can be maintained by causing the reader to wonder how what happened to the character is affecting said character.

On the topic of mapping Swain’s concepts to von Stackelberg’s for vibrant scene structure:

Based on this comment from Jennifer Bobrowicz (JULY 14, 2020 AT 9:40 AM):

Your article helps me better understand how to keep my scenes focused while including important details. In a nutshell, the scene’s Peak drives the writing of that scene.

However, I’m confused on how I could use your framework along with the model of scene/sequel KM Weiland explains in her books. Katy’s method has helped immensely with structuring my WIP, but I’d like to know if I can meld the two. So, here are my specific questions.

The Peak Action seems like it could be the Disaster in the Scene (Weiland) and the Outcome [Micah Charlson’s note: I believe this is the Release?] seems like it could apply to the Reaction in the Sequel (Weiland). The Outcome would then go into the next scene or even the next chapter. Your framework has scenes divided into 4 parts, while Katy shows two types of scenes (Scene/Sequel) with each divided into 3 parts. Perhaps, I’m splitting hairs or not fully understanding something. The Scene/Sequel framework (Weiland) seems to work well in establishing goal, conflict, and a mini climax (Disaster in the Scene), and then it (hopefully) keeps the reader wondering how the character will respond in the next scene/chapter.

So, can the two methods be melded together? In your opinion, is ending with the Peak and picking up with the Outcome a mistake? Do I understand correctly that the scene should be wrapped up (no cliffhangers) with the Outcome, then a new question should be raised to keep the reader going?

And this partial response from Peter von Stackelberg (JULY 14, 2020 AT 1:51 PM):

…

These two scenes from “All the President’s Men” — https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gn3MSQogVeY — for a great example of how to use the Establish > Initiate > Peak > Release structure. As well, these two scenes are an excellent example of how to do the 1-2 punch of Scene & Sequel that Katie talks about.

The terminology of “Scene” and “Sequel” can, I think, be somewhat misleading because it makes it appear that there is one of each. In fact, I think as Katie has pointed out, both the “Scene” and “Sequel” are scenes as we would normally define them — they have their own set of characters interacting in a well defined time and space.

Both the initial scene and the one that follows should be developed using the E.I.P.R. structure. In the clip from All the President’s Men, these phases are pretty clear in the first scene but a little more subtle in the second scene but also follows the E.I.P.R. structure.

I’ll admit this twists my thinking a bit. To explain, I’ll use the following definitions of Scenes and Sequels as I’ve always understood them:

A Scene is a scene in which the character attempts to achieve an immediate goal—this attempt being one type of action in the cycle of “Goal, Conflict, Disaster”, though I prefer the terminology of “Goal, Conflict, Outcome”—in the service of achieving the overall story goal, whatever that may be. I think I’d say most of the time, if not always, Scenes provide the external action, or the plot. (But it is early as I write this, “early” herein defined as “I haven’t had nearly enough coffee yet.” Still, I’d bet I’m correct, keeping in mind I did say “most of the time.”)

A Sequel is a scene in which the character processes the Scene’s Outcome (good or bad)—this processing itself being simply another type of action, in the pattern of “Reaction, Dilemma, Decision” (leading to the next Scene’s Goal.) So a Sequel, it could be said, is just a scene with a different type of goal than the goal of a Scene:

The goal of a Sequel could be stated as “to process the previous Scene’s Outcome, weighing the pros and cons of each option going forward, and considering all the benefits and consequences inherent in each possible action, in order to determine the best course of action for continuing to pursue the overall story goal.” This processing of the Outcome is, in a Sequel, known as the Reaction. (This is a kind of cost-benefit analysis (CBA) of the contemplated actions for the next Scene.)

This pursuit of the Sequel’s goal—the actual performance of the CBA if you will—is the Sequel’s version of the Scene’s Conflict, which in a Sequel is called the Dilemma, an internal conflict.

This internal conflict, this CBA (even if a team effort, with much back and forth dialogue and apparent plot action) must lead the character—alone, in essence—to make a Decision (the Sequel’s version of the Scene’s Outcome) he or she will commit to—if only in the short term. This commitment to the Decision will always be initially an internal act, even if expressed explicitly after the Decision has been made. (You gotta decide before you can tell anyone what you’ve decided, right?)

Key Point on the topic of mapping Swain’s concepts to von Stackelberg’s for vibrant scene structure:

Sequels are Scenes where the Goal, Conflict, and Outcome are internal versus external, and thus have the same structure.

Are sequels even needed?

Now, before I make my controversial suggestion here, let it be known that I still believe Dwight Swain was a genius and I’ll highly revere all that he’s taught all of us.

That said, if a Sequel is simply another type of Scene, and should be developed no differently than a Scene employing the overlying mesh of E.I.P.R., then perhaps it’s time to scrap the idea of a Sequel completely. Because, in reality, a Sequel could also be viewed as having these parts:

Goal (react to the Scene’s Disaster and determine the next course of action—i.e., the next Scene’s Goal)

Conflict (struggle within—i.e., an internal conflict—with the pros and cons alternative courses of action and the consequences of each; literally, a Dilemma)

Outcome (whereby a decision is reached and the next Scene’s Goal is established)

So, it might be helpful (to some of us) to forgo any thought of writing Sequels altogether, and instead think of writing internal Scenes in their place.

That’s probably the same end result, but changing our own internal thought processes might point our minds in different directions, and unlock other possibilities for our stories.

Another possibility is when, while reviewing previous work writing in the Scene/Sequel format, making the attempt at looking at these Sequels through this different lens.

In Conclusion

So, finally, bringing all this back to von Stackelberg and his excellent post, each scene—Scene or Sequel—will end with an Outcome, which will require the Release element be incorporated into the Scene (external/“Scene”, or internal/“Sequel”.) Deleting Step 9 from the merging that resulted, the steps look like this:

Step 1: Identify the character’s immediate goal for this new Scene

External: What action has the character decided upon after the last internal scene.

Internal: How did the previous scenes Outcome affect the character as he or she begins to come to a decision what to do next?

Step 2: Determine what the Scene’s Peak action is.

Step 3: Identify what set into motion the Peak action? What is the Initiate element?

Step 4: What is the result of the Peak action? What is the Release?

Step 5: Where did this all happen? When? Who was involved? This is the Establish element.

Step 6: Fill in Orienting information about the setting, timing, or context of the scene which will help the reader understand the where, when, and who of the scene.

Step 7: Fill in additional Details about character’s, settings, or significant objects in the Initiate (or, sparingly, the Release) elements.

Step 8: Add Prolongs, additional actions that prolong the overall action, to create suspense—which heightens dramatic tension—typically in the Initiate sequence (or, rarely, in the Release Peak sequence.)

I promise you, I still have some unsettled feelings on some level that I’m having trouble coming to grips with, let alone being able to articulate. But when that day comes that I can put what I’m feeling into words, I’ll have more to say on the topic.

And, hopefully, with more brevity. Looking back at what I've been able to trim from the previous post, it is still a behemoth. In the meantime, all I can say is: stay tuned.

[soviet-history-detective]

Legasov You Did Not Know

I am going to share an ingot of solid gold right now, the kind that will break your heart and ruin your day.

I have unearthed this some time ago from a book that’s been long out of print. It is the translation of a truly heart-wrenching eulogy written by his late widow, Margarita Mihailovna Legasova. There is a lot of new information about Legasov in this piece, the kind of things only the wife of 30 years would know. 

Defenceless Victor—Margarita Legasova’s title of her reminiscences 

This title in Trud was followed by a quotation by Valery Legasov:

There are two colour photos hanging in my office at work. One of them is of a Nuclear Atomic Plant, the other of storks. These photos hang near each other as a reminder of the close relationship between life, nature and technology, letting one know beforehand of the fragility of life, about the necessity to keep it. I recalled these photos when I worked in Chernobyl eliminating the consequences of the accident at the NPP. Really, could storks in the future, living on the earth, feel themselves to be safe with modern industry? Is such a peaceful coexistence possible? And if possible, then what should be done to achieve this?

It was not until 10 years after the accident and eight years after Valery Legasov’s death that his widow published a short memoir in Trud that unequivocally confirmed that her husband had committed suicide on 27 April 1988. They had first met when students in the same institute and together worked at a students’ building construction project in what were termed in the USSR as the virgin lands. Under the title Defenceless Victor she described her memories of Legasov’s troubled times at Chernobyl and the period afterwards when he was, to a certain extent, ostracized by the establishment. She also includes interesting comments on what life was like for a senior scientist and his family in the Soviet system: very different from the experiences of Western scientists.

***

Last year we at last completed erection of a gravestone on his grave. This was with thanks to my son and daughter and a few supporters and colleagues of the Academician who helped to cover the expenses. That day when the sculptor invited me to his workshop and showed me the completed work, Valery returned home in the form of his bronze sculpture. He often had to travel away on business trips, we tried to be patient and wait for his return, but on 27 April 1988 he was transported away, already lifeless, forever. 

On Saturday 26 April 1986, Valery left for an ordinary business meeting where he learned about the Chernobyl NPP accident and that evening he was already 2 km away from the destroyed reactor. Life seemingly continued but terrible forebodings did not allow us to relax and stop worrying about his health. After 27 April our acquaintances began to say that badly irradiated victims of the accident had begun to be transported to Moscow to Hospital No. 6. Nobody could tell me when he would return. 

On the morning of 5 May about 8am there was a ring at the door bell and Valery entered in a borrowed suit of clothes and carrying a polythene bag with belongings rather than his normal case. He was very thin, with a dark face, red eyes and the palms of his hands were tanned black. He only had time to wash, change, breakfast and ask about his two grandchildren before he had to leave at 10am for a meeting. There was no time to tell us what was the state of events at Chernobyl. Then at lunchtime one of his assistants telephoned and said that Boris Scherbina wanted him again at Chernobyl. 

It was only when he returned home later that he was able to tell us that he had personally entered the most dangerous areas in the fourth reactor and how shaken he was at the criminal carelessness displayed at the NPP before the explosion. 

He next returned home on 13 May and it seemed to us that the biggest difficulties were in the past: but we soon understood that we were mistaken. By summer Valery was already in poor health, suffering from frequent headaches, chronic insomnia, nausea and stomach illness. It was difficult to recognize the earlier Valery in this morally depressed man. He was taken many times for medical investigation to Hospital No. 6 of the atomic establishment. Heart insufficiency, serious leukocytosis, problems with his myelocytes and bone marrow were diagnosed, as well as neurosis. But no official diagnosis was made of radiation syndrome, although I had no doubt that it was so. 

He became an Academician at the early age of 45 but some of the leading figures of Soviet science called him ‘A boy from the chemical suburbs’. However, he was interesting to work with and liked jokes, being famous as an amusing raconteur, although everyone knew that science was the principal interest of his life. His private family life was unknown to his colleagues. 

For five years, 1964–69, we lived in a flat of 22 square metres at Nizhegorodskaya Street. Though we could use only communal transportation we often made trips together with our two little children to Kuskovo, Ostankino and Arkangelskoye. In Tsaritsino we enjoyed ski holidays. It now seems that these were the happiest times of our lives. 

Valery was a car enthusiast for the last 10 years of his life and loved driving at very high speeds. He had always wanted a private car and his first, which was also his last, was a GAZ-25 Volga which we bought in 1977 for 9500 roubles when he was a Candidate Member of the Academy of Sciences. The initial capital for the purchase was his quota from his State Prize received for his achievements in the field of chemistry. 

We usually celebrated New Year in the circle of our family, sometimes in a rest house. One of these days a pure bred chau chau puppy appeared in our family and it was assumed that it was my New Year’s gift. Ma Lu Thomas, as she was called, would recognize only Valery as his owner and loved being in our car. She was inseparable from him and died just after Valery’s death. He was also an adoring grandfather to Misha and Valerik and invented little poems for them and played charades. 

As a boy he received a musical education and for many years was interested in listening and understanding classical music: Grieg, Sibelius, Shostakovich and Prokofiev. He was also fond of Schnitke. Over the years we bought tickets for many concerts in the Tschaikovsky Concert Hall of the Musical Conservatoire. Valery’s last concert was in Lithuania in the summer of 1987: for flute and organ. Little did I know that soon afterwards Valery would make a first attempt to commit suicide. He swallowed a handful of Triptizol tablets but that time the physicians managed to save him. 

In one Soviet TV programme is was said that Academician Legasov was a sincere believer. It is not so. From autumn 1987 he began to read the Bible and thought much about what he read. He was not baptised a Christian, but respected religion even though he was brought up an atheist. 

He considered that the East was weak and during his business trips he tried to see as much as possible of culture. He very much wanted to visit one of the sacred Islamic places, the mausoleum of Hoja Ahmed Iasavi, and the monument erected in honour of the ancient Turkish poet who lived in the twelfth century and was an advocate of Sufism. We visited the ancient city of Yami and worshipped at the grave of the philosopher, and Valery often recalled his verses:

Having met a man of another faith 

Don’t be evil to him

The God does not like people

With a cruel heart...

After their death punishment

Waits for them...

On his return from the Chernobyl NPP Valery told very sparingly, with tears in his eyes, about the unpreparedness for the accident. Those days nobody could precisely estimate the number of victims, but Legasov understood better than others, the lack of necessary means of health protection: pure water, food products, iodine prophylaxis. 

In August 1986 Valery Legasov presented a report to IAEA experts at a meeting in Vienna, about the causes and the consequences of the accident. His five-hour report was very well received and he returned home triumphal. But soon his mood changed. During the last two years after the accident he suffered great psychological trauma and his inner strength was broken. 

Twice he was nominated for a high award from the State, and twice the nomination was cancelled. He received a suggestion that he might take up a position with the IAEA in the field of nuclear technology: again, obstacles appeared. There was also the planned nomination for Director of a Research Centre on the Problems of Industrial and Nuclear Safety: this came to nothing. His election as a Member of the French Academy of Sciences was apparently assured and although we went to Paris on 4 February 1988, his last business trip, he did not receive Membership. Also, just after his Paris trip he was hospitalized with acute leukocytosis, pneumonia and severe neurosis. 

Chernobyl was not only a tragedy of international importance but it was also the personal tragedy of the gifted scientist Valery Legasov. 

Source: Chernobyl Record- The Definitive History of the Chernobyl Catastrophe, R F Mould

Notes:

I had a feeling there was more to Legasov than what we see in the written material out there (I read Russian at upper intermediate level so I have access to quite a lot of info, and I have read the magnificent in-depth science-engineering reform articles of him which were absolutely jaw-dropping in their visionary quality. Yet some of the information in this article blew my mind.  Legasov’s intellectual side is far deeper than anyone’s guess, that is evident.

All the documentary films and other material mention Legasov took sleeping pills in his first suicide attempt in 1987, but it turns out it was Triptizol, which is the brand name of Amitriptyline -a powerful antidepressant prescribed for major depression and where SSRI’s don’t work. It has been used as sleeping medicine in the US, but I have no clue if it had such use in the USSR. It is known Legasov developed a serious insomnia problem, but he was also diagnosed with major clinical depression. 

Margarita Legasova was a professor of chemistry, they both graduated from the prestigious Mendeleev School of Chemistry, where they met (as mentioned in the beginning.)

The dog’s name sounds like it’s mistranscribed or something, in Russian language articles written by Legasov’s close friends she is mentioned as Tomka. Poor thing stopped eating after she realized he was gone forever and died shortly after. 

[deadlifts-and-derrida]

Learning to Grow

There's a scene in the 90's animated Spider-Man where Eddie Brock, the human host of the Venom symbiote, is lifting weights in his run-down New York apartment. He's shirtless, bench pressing what looks like an impressive weight. The camera runs over his arms and torso as he recites, between grunts, a litany of wrongs, imagined and real, that Spider-Man has visited upon him. There are brief flashbacks with each item on the list, played out semi-opaque in front of his sweaty muscular torso. As each one fades and we see him clear, his muscles appear to pulse and swell. He's getting bigger and bigger as the scene goes on, muscles engorging with each repetition, each up and down of the loaded bar he's bench-pressing.

This scene captivated me as a child. Any time this episode came up in re-runs I'd be glued to the TV, would find some excuse to go into another room and sneakily turn on a separate television, away from my family, even if it meant watching it on a smaller, less modern set.

I knew I loved muscle before I saw this scene. I even doubt this was the first time I saw a depiction of where muscles came from. This first aired in 1994. I would have been 11. Surely I knew muscles came from working out before I saw this. But it felt like some previously unconnected parts of my brain were suddenly wired together.

If you want to have muscles you have to lift weights!

*

My mom had two blue dumbbells at home. I think she bought them to use at the Step Aerobics class she went to every Thursday night in the gymnasium of the local elementary school, the same school I attended. They were 5 lbs each. I'm sure they would look small to me now. They looked big to me then.

They came with a folded up paper diagram of exercises you could do with the dumbbells. It featured a line drawing of an absurdly muscular man (these are FIVE POUND DUMBBELLS and he looks like a professional bodybuilder!), shirtless, wearing a pair of short shorts. Of course I was attracted to this line drawing. But I remember taking these little blue dumbbells and trying to use them to get bigger and stronger. I tried to use the piano bench to do chest flies. I did lots of bicep curls. I don't think I ever did anything for my back and my legs - classic clueless young man, only exercising the muscles he can see, the ones that look good in a t-shirt.

I didn't go about this in any regimented fashion. They were sporadic attempts. I didn't yet realize how frequently you had to work out to see results. I didn't realize how to organize a weightlifting session at the gym, how to program it to achieve hypertrophy (or, in lay terms, bigger muscles). I thought of it like it was a role-playing game, like if you lifted weights you'd add a little EXP to your STR bar, and eventually it'd level up even if you weren't systematic about it.

So of course I don't think mom's two blue 5 lbs dumbbells did much for me.

*

There was no commercial or public gym in my hometown, nor one within a 100 km drive. There were some private gyms, in people's basements and such. My little hometown, which had about 5,000 people living in it when I was in my early teens, somehow produced four provincial bodybuilding champions to my knowledge, including Newfoundland's only internationally successful professional bodybuilder to date. Fewer than 1% of the province's population. We certainly over-performed in this aspect.

And then there was me. Absolutely nothing to look at. But burning with a desire that I felt ashamed of, felt like I should keep it hidden. Bodybuilding was all around me and I didn't say anything, didn't give any indication that it interested me. Two of those four provincial champions were my next-door neighbours, one of them a year older than me, one of them a year younger than me. It never occured to me to even try to train with them.

I was an awkward nerd. I knew I was gay. I hadn't told anyone. But bullies called me every word you can call a gay kid, because, well, they were bullies.

So I didn't connect with the budding bodybuilders around me. I never lifted in one of the basements where so many successful bodybuilding careers began.

I did pushups sporadically in my bedroom and hoped it would be enough.

Of course it wasn't. Forcing the body to build more metabolically expensive muscle tissue than it absolutely needs is one of the most difficult things to do. A few pushups in your bedroom and a protein-poor diet (I was vegetarian but I wasn't one of the "good kind" who research proper diet) won't cut it.

*

In my second term at University, the Field House opened. This was a new athletic facility. There was some controversy in student circles that we were all being levied a $40/semester fee to pay for the Field House - but in return, we all had access to the facility. We just had to show our student card.

Stress, bad eating, and a post-exam bout of mononucleosis had left me about 145 lbs at this point. I'm 6' tall. There was no muscle on me to speak of - though skinny, I had no abs, no definition in my arms and legs. My arms measured 10" around.

So, although all my leftist friends were angry about the Field House levy, I was secretly happy about it. Finally, I had access to a gym.

I didn't research what to do. I didn't ask for help in making a plan.

For weeks, I went in and ran on the treadmill.

I remember an article by another gay writer about body image, muscles, and exercise. He describes running on the treadmill while dreaming of himself as finally having that muscular body he's long wanted to have.

Now, I want to give the guy a shake and ask him what the hell he's doing on a treadmill if he wants muscles. That's like practicing piano and hoping it'll make you a better cook. But back then - I was that guy.

*

There was a little alcove in the Field House next to the cardio room that had some air-powered resistance machines. I started to use those. I doubt I used them well. No one taught me form. I didn't look it up. This was 2002 - YouTube, a great resource for this kind of thing, was years away.

But it was better than nothing. My diet, still appalling and low in protein, did get a little better as my palate expanded and I learned, on a semester in England in 2003, that I liked and could prepare chicken and fish.

My arms were 12" around. This is still small. It's nowhere near Eddie Brock. But it's better than 10".

*

I was like a timid deer slowly being tamed. Toward the end of my undergraduate degree, I began going to the Strength and Conditioning Centre, in the basement of the old Phys Ed building, where the actual lifters and bodybuilders on campus went.

But I was not yet either of those things.

I was still ashamed of my desires, couldn't bring myself to ask anyone for help, to acquire the practical knowledge I needed if I was ever going to achieve the kind of progress I wanted.

So even though there was a freeweight section full of huge burly men lifting impressive weights, I kept to the machines and the dumbbells. Lateral raises (probably done badly), cable flies (probably done badly), tricep pushdowns (probably done badly), dips and pullups (almost certainly done badly), lat pulldowns (I only ever felt these in my forearms). I never did a bench press. I never did a squat. I don't think I even knew what a deadlift was.

I ate like I was lifting big weights and having gruelling workouts, though. So, in other words, I got chubby and my muscles more or less stayed the same, after those newbie gains earned in the alcove of the Field House with the air-powered machines. I did not look like I lifted weights. I certainly didn't look like a bodybuilder.

*

My mid and late 20s were full of periods where I had no gym access. I ran during those times, every second day. I got fitter, my body firmed up, I felt better. I was also physically suited to middle distance running. But I was smaller, during those times, and I wanted to be bigger.

When I did have gym access I continued to lift poorly, without doing any compound movements (bench, squat, deadlift, overhead press, etc). And I ate to grow, but it was a lot of low quality food. So, during those times, my body got softer. I told myself I was bulking, but my muscles didn't get bigger. My arms were still about 12" or 13", depending on which of these two modes I was existing in.

I still lived in dread of someone discovering how much I wanted to be a huge muscular freak. How I fed my imagination on a steady diet of enormous bodybuilders, folders with thousands of jpgs saved from the internet, treasured memories of the rare times I'd seen a truly huge muscular man out in the wild, in person. Walking in the mall, lying on a blanket in the park, in the checkout line at the supermarket.

I would sometimes fantasize about finding some almost empty bottle of steroids in the locker room. Maybe just one or two pills left. At the time I erroneously thought all steroids were pills - I didn't know anything about steroids at all, at this point. I just knew they made guys big. In this fantasy, I would take the one or two pills I found, and it would make me slightly more muscular than I was. Perhaps 5% more. And that would be enough to make me happy without anyone realizing anything. Of course, it doesn't work that way.

*

I wasn't entirely clueless. In 2009, I started a PhD at the University of Toronto, and had access to its excellent gym facilities. By then I knew I had to do compound movements like bench press and squat. I started to learn how. I didn't seek out help, though, and I definitely should have. Also, a PhD is very demanding on your time. I was following a "split" (how you organize your workouts through the week) appropriate for someone lifting 4-5 times a week, but I was lucky if I got in 2 or 3 times (which, frankly, isn't enough to see much progress regardless of your "split"). 10 or 12 days would go by between chest workouts, between back workouts, between leg workouts.

I suppose I made some progress. Not much. I may have deluded myself into thinking it was more than it was, because I had been going to the gym, in some capacity, for 7 years, and I wanted to have something to show for it.

In early 2012, me and my then-boyfriend drove to his father's in South Carolina. I had just turned 29. I was planning on using the fact we were traveling to buy steroids online. I was paranoid that my IP address could be tracked if I did it at home and it would be safer to do it from some hotel room in Pennsylvania.

I realized, when in a hotel room in Pennsylvania trying to buy steroids online, that I didn't know enough about any of that to actually go through with it. I hadn't done my research. Looking back, my naivete is laughable. Now, if I encountered someone like the person I used to be trying to buy steroids, I would try my best to discourage them for a large number of reasons. One, you, past Michael, clearly don't know how to train and eat to grow; that being the case, all steroids will do is upset your endocrine system's natural balance and increase some health risks without actually giving you the benefits you want. Secondly, you don't know a thing about them. What kind are you going to buy? The answer better be testosterone enanthate or testosterone cypionate; test only for a beginner's cycle. Do you know proper injection technique? Don't even think about an oral-only cycle! Do you know what an AI is? It's an aromatase inhibitor, a drug that prevents most of the negative side effects people associate with steroid use, which ironically come from elevated estrogen, a side effect of elevated tesoterone - you did know that, didn't you? Do you know what PCT is? It's Post Cycle Therapy, drugs people take once they have finished their cycle of steroids to help restart their body's natural hormone production, which is disrupted by steroids. You knew steroids would shut down your natural testosterone production, right?

Luckily, I realized I wasn't ready, and didn't go through with my plan. I don't know what I was thinking. I mean, did I think I could just type "buy steroids" into google? OK, yes, you can actually do that, but it's not a good idea. There are plenty of people out there willing to make a quick buck selling snake oil to idiots like me, and even if they sold me legitimate gear, I wasn't ready for it and had no idea how to use it safely and responsibly, as outlined above.

*

In January of 2013, my parents, always solidly middle class, suddenly became very wealthy, and they passed some of this on to me. I had never made more than $25,000 in a year, and suddenly twice that was sitting in my bank account, with more to come.

One of the things I splurged on was a DEXA scan. It cost $125. You lay still on the bed of a device, and a mechanical arm slowly passes over your whole body twice. It takes about ten minutes. it is the most accurate body composition scan currently available.

I wanted to know how well my efforts in the gym had paid off.

Not at all, it turned out.

I was 184 lbs. This was in the "normal" BMI range for someone 6' tall. But I was 25.1% bodyfat. For a man, obesity is considered anything over 25%. I was the opposite of a bodybuilder. Bodybuilders have obese BMI but very low bodyfat percentages. I had normal BMI but an obese bodyfat percentage.

My lean body mass was only 138 lbs. If I was lean like a bodybuilder, I wouldn't even weigh 150 lbs. I had been going to the gym for 11 years and I had almost nothing to show for it - maybe 10 or 15 lbs of muscle gained from the underfed just-over-a-bout-of-mono 19 year old who first stepped into a gym in 2002.

This was a kick in the pants. Luckily it motivated me. I reformed my diet. No more pizza and burritos except as very occasional treats. Cut way way way back on the booze. Running in the morning every second day, lifting weights every day I didn't run.

I got married in June. I weighed 170 lbs and my bodyfat was down to 19%. I was losing fat without losing muscle, possibly because there was very little muscle to lose.

We went on an extended summer wedding tour, had wedding parties on both coasts. I relaxed a little but didn't give up fully.

And that September, enabled by having some money, emboldened by finally achieving a little success, spurred on by turning 30 and realizing that if I didn't start to do this right then my dream of being a bodybuilder would never come to pass, I hired a trainer.

And on our first meeting, I told him: I want to get as big as I possibly can.

And he said let's get to work.

[jon928a]

VANCOUVER MARATHON HAS BEEN CANCELLED.

Ok I kind of expected this to happen but to actually get the email telling me it was no go was a disappointment to say the least. Hotel now cancelled and trip to Japan will probably not happen either.

BUT I still keep running.

FRIDAY AFTERNOON....Second run of the day was as usual a lot better than the morning run. Only 5 km or so but I felt reasonable which is always a plus these days. Wind was amazing...trees all over the place. Slowed me down....haha...excuse man they call me.

SATURDAY

Plan was for a slightly longer run with Tamami and Rob.

I got up early and pushed myself around the streets.Felt fat and slow but still managed to do it. Not far not fast.

Ran a good enough 8 km with Tamami and Rob. I then stopped whilst they both did a 3 km time trial.

We ran another 5 km together including a long steep hill( which I picked). Total for me 13 km. Ok run and happy to run with someone other than just going around the same streets alone.

SUNDAY Early morning run was not that long but included a number of steep hills. I didn’t Garmin but it was about 4 km at a reasonable pace. Temperature was 16 degrees with 72% humidity. Quite nice. First run of the day is proving quite enjoyable...I just have to summon the will power to get out the door.

I had a really bad night waking at 2 AM.

I tried some sleep music...worked to some extent. I still feel so sick when I get out of bed. Possibly I am just hungry.

But after the run I felt quite good. Progress is slow and now I don’t have VancouverMarathon to push me on. I would run the Gold Coast in July. But with all this mass hysteria happening over The Killer Virus its probably a good show for that race to be zapped like with so many others.

FIGURES

Weight 68.9 Kgm

Resting HR 46

Running HR 144

Max HR 186

Blood Pressure 123/88

Generally I am pretty healthy but I know I still have a long way to go so no excuse to sit back and slack off.

[queenmylovely]

Just My Luck; Part 3

Summary: John deacon x fem!reader. John and Reader make plans to see each other

Warnings: cussing, slow burn

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: There’s more of Queen in this one, especially of the Chaos Duo. It’s kind of a filler chapter, but there are a lot of cute little moments. Most likely, I’ll be posting on weekends from now own. As always let me know what you think!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14 (Epilogue), Masterlist

🍀🍀🍀

Exactly three weeks after John sent the letter to you, he received one and sent another.

Receiving your letter was a godsend to him. To all of the boys. Not only did it save Deaky from his own worrisome mind, but it also saved Brian from constantly having to patrol Freddie and Roger, and saved Freddie and Roger from coming under the wrath of over protective Brian or manic Deaky. Not that the cycle wouldn’t repeat itself as soon as a week passed with no reply.

In the aftermath of your letter, Roger and Freddie figured they had an about two day grace period where they could talk about you and tease John as much as they wanted.

“Well it’s official, you two are now properly each other’s,” teased Freddie, referencing the way each of you signed off your letters. This got an eye roll and beginnings of a quick response from Deaky but he continued anyway, “Why don’t we call you Johnny? Where the hell did Deaky come from?” He questioned. “Johnny is much more traditional.”

“Are you joking? Fred, you’re the one who started calling me Deaky, because Johnny was too traditional,” replied a flabbergasted John.

“Oh that’s right, because fuck how things are traditionally done. Although I thinks it’s absolutely precious that your girl has a special nickname for you,” Freddie remembered, giving Deaky a cheeky smile. Deaky just ignored the comment about you being his girl and tried to focus on tuning his bass.

Since the band was in the studio before noon, John had gotten the letter early and decided to mail his response on the way back home. For now, he, Freddie, and Roger were in the control room while Brian was working some guitar part in the sound booth.

“In any case, I think the best course of action for you, Deaks, is to meet on your turf. If she comes to London, you can show her around, take her to all the fanciest places, have her stay with you, in your bed,” Roger said into the silence. His last remark was solely for Deaky’s embarrassment, and he knew his mission was accomplished when he saw the red on the other man’s cheeks. He didn’t allow Deaky time to object as he continued, “Plus, we only went to Brussels in Belgium, not this Tourn-ey place, wherever the fuck that is. You wouldn’t be any help there.”  

“Tournai,” John mumbled with the correct pronunciation. “It’s part of the French region in Belgium called Wallonia.”

“Well I’m glad to see that college education and those research skills haven’t gone to waste,” Roger joked, drawing laughs from the other two.

“French, you say, Deaky?” Freddie asked and John nodded. “You do know that French is the language of love, don’t you, dear? I bet Y/N is quite fluent and would jump at the chance to teach you.”

Again, Deaky just flushed at the implications of Freddie’s somewhat convoluted metaphor and focused on his bass.

After a while, they went back to working and got consumed by it. At around 4:00 p.m., when they finally had their lunch, Deaky remembered to write the letter, relying only on himself this time. He dropped it in a post box on their way home, this time around 9:00 p.m.

_____

Ten days later, after driving back from an early shift at the café, you were checking the mail in the lobby of your building and saw the now tell-tale sign of a letter addressed to you but without a name on the returning address. You sprinted up your stairs, seeing the long line outside of the elevator and knowing it would be faster to run. Reaching your apartment, you slowed down and grabbed your keys but picked right back up again once inside and ran into Jeanne’s open room. Even though it was half past noon she was still in bed, as she didn’t have class at all and didn’t work until much later. As you ran up, you grabbed her shoulder, giving it a small shake. She jumped awake then saw it was you and groaned, “Ugh, why did you wake me up? Why are you breathing so heavily? Wait, what’s in your hands? Is that another letter from John?” her questions becoming less annoyed and more excited as she went.

“Yes. But I can’t read it, I need you to.”

“Too nervous?” she asked, grabbing the letter from you as you nodded. “You know he’s going to say yes. Of course he wants to meet you in person.”

You just waited for her to start.

“Okay, here goes: ‘Dear Y/N, Your time at uni and your career plans sound brilliant. I’m sure you’ll be an amazing professor. If only I would have been so lucky to have someone like you for a communications professor, I might be better at it.’ Oh that’s cute,” Jeanne remarked and you smiled but looked down to hide the way his compliment made you feel.

She continued “‘I have been to Belgium, Brussels to be exact, but I haven’t ever been to Tournai. Since you’re teaching English there, do you speak French? Didn’t your best friend from high school speak French too?’ Yes, that’s right, John! Her lovely best friend, Jeanne, is the entire reason any of this reconnection is possible,” Jeanne laughed, delighted at this new revelation, causing you to groan and put your head in your hands. Jeanne remained content in her moment, pausing to do a little dance.

“What next, Jeanne? I’m sure the letter doesn’t stop at the mention of you,” you prompted when she took too long.

“Oh, right, just got a little distracted. Hmm, he says, ‘Although I did enjoy my time at Chelsea College, and did earn my degree, I’m not an engineer. I’m not sure that you would remember, but when we were in high school I was in a couple bands, which is what prompted my current career path. I’m working in music right now, which is what has allowed me to travel so much, to answer your other question.’ Wow, you didn’t tell me he was a musician!” Jeanne scolded with admiration for John in her eyes.

“I did, actually, it was just like, 7 years ago.”

“Ha, I keep forgetting that this is the same John as all those years ago. Okay, let’s see, next he says, ‘I absolutely would love to meet you in person! There’s no way that I would let you get within 300 km of me without seeing you.’ Hoo! That was too much. That just about took me out, how are you?” Jeanne said, fanning her face at his comments and looking at you to gauge your reaction. Your lips were pursed, eyes were wide and staring at the floor, and you felt your ears and cheeks heat up. Shaking your head, you motioned her to continue.

“‘If you wanted to come see London, I could show you around, being a local and all. I’m going to be in London all summer, so if you had any specific dates, I’m sure I’d be open.You could stay with me if you would like so you don’t have to pay for a hotel. Through my work I have access to discounted aeroplane tickets, if you would rather fly than take a 5 hour train ride. I honestly can’t wait to see you now. Ever Yours, Johnny.’ That’s so nice, you should take him up on his offer!” Jeanne said, referring to the plane tickets and extra room.

You were stuck on him wanting to see you so badly so it took you a second to respond, “What? Oh yeah, I’ll look into it.”

“Can’t focus because you’re smitten, huh?”

“Hmmm? What about a cat?”

“Smitten, not kitten. Geez, you’re gone,” Jeanne said as she laughed at the far-off look in your eyes. You remained in this state as you wrote back to him. Writing the letter, you probably poured in too much emotion, but Jeanne wouldn’t let you edit it any further. You had to trust Jeanne to drop the letter off on her way to work since you were busy with the final bit of paperwork you had before leaving for Tournai, which was just over one week away.

_____

You spent the rest of that week packing, carefully choosing what clothes you would bring with you. It was tricky because you were going there to teach but also to travel. This meant you had to have a lot of business casual clothes but also a wide array of layers in case you traveled somewhere colder. The most difficult choices were for the clothes you thought you would take with you to London. You wrestled with yourself because you didn’t want to stress out so much over clothes and definitely didn’t want to choose clothes specifically for one boy. Still, you kept thinking What will impress John? What will John like? despite yourself.

However, there was only so long you could agonize for and only so much you could fit. Eventually, all of your clothes and necessities were packed and you were spending your last night in the States much as you had the first night you had heard all of A Night at the Opera, with Jeanne and your mom.

The three of you talked during dinner then watched a movie, and closed out the night with another listening of the album, but paired with ice cream this time. It was an early night because you had to get up extremely early for the airport the next morning. Also because of this, your mom stayed over and slept in your bed with you.

After getting ready and getting into your bed, you were laying on your back staring at the ceiling. Your mom was facing the other way on her side, about to turn the lamp off when you spoke, causing her to turn to look at you “I’m nervous, Mom.”

“I know, honey. But you’re going to do great. Everyone in your class will learn English quick as whips, and I bet transitioning to life in Belgium will be easier than you think,” she said reassuringly. But that wasn’t all that was on your mind.

“Is it stupid that I’m actually more nervous about meeting John than I am about leaving the country for three months?” you questioned, grimacing at your own words.

“Nothing you feel is stupid. And I know you’re feeling vulnerable and scared, but there’s no way that you and John won’t get along. You wrote letters to each other for five years and never ran out of things to talk about. As soon as you get over the initial awkwardness, you’ll be thick as thieves.”

“Thanks, Mom. Love you, goodnight.”

“Love you too, goodnight, sweetie,” she said, turning off the light and rolling back on her side.

The alarm rang out all too soon, before the sun was up, and before you actually fell into a deep sleep. The three of you got up and got dressed in silence, eating toast and fruit with eyes half-closed. Jeanne drove your car to the airport with your mom and you leaning on each other in the backseat. The only sound was the soft music playing from the radio, a song you vaguely recognized as early Queen, called “Some Day One Day.”

Walking into the airport, to the luggage drop off, and to the gate, you were all chatting and making sure you had everything that you needed in your carry-on. The three of you sat at the gate to wait and soon enough, the first group was called to board. You were in the second group, so you started saying your goodbyes right away, hugging Jeanne first.

“I’m going to miss you so much! What am I going to do alone for three months? How am I going to handle having our entire apartment to myself? Without you reminding me constantly about dishes and vacuuming and dusting and eating all of my food?” Jeanne’s tone was turning from sad to gleeful as she realized all of the good things about you being gone.

From your place next to her head, you tried to turn and look at her, “You sound suspiciously happy that I’m leaving.”

“Happy? No, not me! Just a little liberated, heh,” she admitted and you both laughed.

“As I’m sure you just realized, you’ll be fine without me. Plus, the university gave us those vouchers to give to the phone company so international calls won’t charge extra, so you can call me anytime. Anytime that I’m awake that is.”

Then it was time to say goodbye to your mom. You both got misty-eyed and gave each other a long hug. It was times like these that you were glad you never got taller than your mom, happy for the extra comfort and protection her height gave you. After a minute, you both pulled away, and she held onto your arms, “I’m so proud of you, Y/N. This is a big step, and I know you’re going to do great. Remember to call me as soon as you get there and every Monday after that.”

“Thank you, Mom. Don’t worry, I will,” you replied. Then the intercom came on, calling for your group to board, “Love you, Jeanne,” you said, pulling her in for another quick hug before doing the same with your mom and kissing her on the cheek, “Love you, Mom. Keep each other company while I’m gone!”

They nodded and waved, as you walked right up to the desk, the last goodbye making you the last in your group. They stood together and watched the plane until it took off before heading back to the apartment to go on about their days.

_____

Deaky was asleep on the couch of the control room when the studio received your letter the day after you left Seattle.

Roger and Freddie, however, were wide awake, waiting for Brian to return with coffee when an intern came in with the letter and they maneuvered it from the unknowing college kid. They were quick to convince each other to open and read it without waking up Deaky.

Deciding to take turns reading it out loud, Freddie started, “‘Dear Johnny, Oui, je parle français.’ Oh she does speak French, astounding! ‘And yes, my still best friend, Jeanne, is the main reason that I can speak it at all. We’re roommates now and we still spend every Saturday just speaking French so we don’t lose it since her parents moved back to Montreal.’”

“This Jeanne girl sounds interesting. She can talk in English and French,” Roger said in a thoughtful voice, biting his lip. “They live together, too. Two girls speaking to each other in French…”

“Yes, that’s what it means to be bilingual,” Freddie replied dry-pan, ignoring Roger’s snort at the word “bilingual.” With a sigh, he continued, “‘Jeanne made it clear that she thought it was important to note that she’s the entire reason I’m even travelling to Tournai. But I can’t be too annoyed because that’s the reason I’m getting to meet you.’ My heart! I’m not sure I can keep reading this, you better take over.”

“Sure, you know I like a confident woman,” Roger smirked, earning an eye roll from Freddie. He found where Freddie left off on the page, “‘Of course I remember your bands! I always wanted to hear you play. When I’m in London, you’ll have to play me some of your old songs so I can experience it live!’ Ha, little does she know she’ll be staying with bassist of Queen. This is going to blow her mind!”

“Rog, love, do try to stay a little humble. She’s American, we’re not as well known over there. She might not even know who we are,” Freddie reminded him before joining the other man’s laughs. Although Freddie could be shy and wasn’t one to make other uncomfortable with his newfound wealth and fame, he was never less than proud of Queen, and wasn’t afraid to show it.

“Okay, okay, ‘If you’d be willing to have me, I would be delighted to stay with you and see London! You’re so sweet to extend your home to me. You’re way too kind to offer those vouchers, I’m fine taking the train. I have a week off from June 1-9, so I could come for a couple days if any of those work for you. I’m actually leaving for Tournai this Wednesday, so you can send the next letter to the address on the index card. Looking forward to seeing you more and more everyday! Very Truly Yours, Y/N. p.s. You seem very capable at communication to me, but the real test is in person.’ Oh-hoh-hoh, getting a little flirty aren’t we there,” Roger remarked, smirking.

“Ooo, very suggestive. Sounds like Deaky here is going to get himself a girlfriend by the first of June!” Freddie replied, both of them laughing.

“Deaky and Y/N sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S…,” one of them started and the other sang along. It was this that woke Deaky up. He rose to sitting on the couch and watched them dancing around with their backs to him.

He rubbed his eyes sleepily while asking, “What are you two on about?”

This stopped them in their tracks. They quickly put the letter back in the envelope, and whipped around, Roger holding the letter behind their backs. Unfortunately for them, Deaky had seen the flash of white.

“Nothing…” they replied in unison, trying to sound innocent.

“If you’re not up to anything, what are you hiding behind your backs?” Deaky questioned in a serious tone.

“Oh this?” Roger asked as he held up the letter and Deaky gasped. “It’s nothing important, just a letter from Y/N,” he said, tossing it to him.

“You opened it without me?”

“Not without you, darling, you were right there on the couch,” Freddie defended.

“I was asleep,” Deaky said half paying attention as he reopened the letter. As he started reading, his full focus stayed on what you wrote, not noticing the other two men staring intently at him. They exchanged glances when he visibly reacted to your words, grinning at you wanting to hear him play, frowning when you declined the vouchers, and giggling at your post-script.

Brian walked in as Deaky finished reading and looked at the scene in front of him before clearing his throat and holding up four cups of coffee. The other three heads snapped up, eyes zeroing in on the coffee. As they drank, Deaky filled Brian in on the details.

“You should definitely send the vouchers anyway. You should also tell her to stay the entire week. You can’t see all of London in two or three days,” Brian persuaded him, with encouragement from Roger and Freddie.

Deaky wrote another letter, including the vouchers and inviting you to stay the whole time.

_____

After arriving in Tournai, you got set up at an apartment with another graduate student from your program. As soon as you could, you called your mom and then Jeanne to check in.

Because of the day it took to travel, and the night stay at a hotel for orientation, you got John’s letter your second day at the apartment. You were surprised, but quickly remembered that mail would be much quicker within Europe.

You were so happy to see that he wanted you to stay the whole time and in your own letter gladly accepted. Although you thought the vouchers were too generous, some time on the phone with Jeanne convinced you to accept them anyway. Her talk didn’t stop you from thanking him over and over in your next letter, though.

_____

Over the course of the next week, you got settled in at your job teaching, too. Your new roommate, Eileen, was from France and was in Tournai to teach public speaking in the student’s native language. You thought you were lucky to be able to speak to her easily. She was nice, but reserved, and you soon developed a routine of eating breakfast together at the apartment and lunch together at the school, but had separate dinners.

On weekends you didn’t see much of her, so you explored much of Tournai on your own, quickly finding a cafe you loved and becoming a regular at the Museum of Fine Arts. Each week on Saturdays, you would spend the entire afternoon taking in a different branch for hours. You had completed three before your first four weeks were over and it was time to travel to London.

You packed your carry-on for London on the Friday night before, Jeanne on the phone to give you advice the whole time. You decided on two pairs of pants, two skirts, two dresses, five shirts, two jackets, and two pairs of shoes, including what you would wear on the plane. One of the dresses was pretty fancy, a choice made by Jeanne “just in case.”

You had told Eileen you would be gone during your week off a week earlier, and Saturday morning she asked you more about where you were going. Always polite and never prying, she accepted your description of your pen pal with understanding and offered to walk you to the train that would take you to airport. Walking with her, you confessed your nerves, and she turned to face you.

“We don't know each other that well, and I like you. He knows you very well,” she offered. You knew what she was implying, even if she wouldn’t go that far herself. That strengthened your resolve and thanked her, coming up on the train station. You kissed each other’s cheeks, as the French were wont to do, and stepped on the train, waving goodbye.

At the airport, you walked quickly and got to the gate forty-five minutes early. You sat, reading the book you had brought with you, Murder on the Orient Express. You had been inspired to read Agatha Christie’s books after her death reminded you of how much you liked the movie of the same name that came out a couple of years prior.  

When your group number was called to board, you took a deep breath and stood. With no one to say goodbye to you walked straight to the forming line without hesitation.

🍀🍀🍀

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[jkstories]

April 12th | jjk

summary ↦ ʻYou were in a constant déjà vu. You knew every look the clients would do. How much time would take to the police arrive. But Jungkook? He was never the same. Always unpredictable and mysterious.ʼ

pairing ↦ jungkook x reader

genre ↦ loop/ i don’t even know au

word count ↦ 3.2k

authors note ↦ i’m terrible at oneshot stories but i tried my best!! give it some love plsss <333

His head felt light compared to the heavy pain on your chest. It was now the 13 time you woke in that same position along with his cinnamon shampoo sense all over your sheets.

The sensation of a bullet between your eyes was been your alarm clock for the past 12 days and Jungkook’s crying eyes screaming to surrender following your fall is the last memory you have of the day before.

You thought to yourself everyday what could possibly be wrong. What position it’s wrong, or is it just hopeless. But something kept you from giving up. Jungkook’s eyes give you more than the feeling of hope. They give you company, something you never had.

You brushed the strands of his hair away from his forehead so you could see his angelic face. He seems calm for a boy like him. Always talking and never listening. Maybe that was the issue. You were sure time will bring him more comprehension to listen to your instructions and less to his impulsive actions, but time wouldn’t stop this forever loop and so wouldn’t you.

You can say you are a lucky person. You have a great job in a coffee shop, a house far from the craziness of the city and you found someone you see yourself marry.

But April 12 was not your lucky day, at all. 12 days ago, or today, you decided to put everything on a line so you could run from your safe home. You made a plan to robber a not very movement bank.

You told Jungkook and he didn’t seem so shocked as you thought he would be. You both worked every detail of the plan and then you executed but something missed from all your “what if this happens” or “all the plans bs”. After 1 hour of perfection the cops were called and they killed you in the most aggressive and raw away possible.

For those 3 seconds before the bullet hit your head, you thought about Jungkook and his future.

After the last seconds of your life, you blinked and there you were. In the same bed than before. You checked your phone.

April 12th.

So you got up and did all of it again. You woke Jungkook and he shouted a fuck right away and you knew you weren’t alone on this.

You and Jungkook did all the same as the day before and nothing worked. You end up always getting killed in the same way so you were forced to accept your fate and work your way out.

You talked about everything you could remember. Times, movements, things that went wrong, what could work this time and a way to not die.

Again there you were. 12 days after and one more robbery had to be done.

His breathe started to get heavier and there you knew.

Jungkook tries to understand where the gun shots come from and then he runs to first floor to see you standing in front of 4 police guards shooting the air one time. You falling to the ground at the second gunshot, he takes his gun from his back and places it against the side of his head, then he pulls the trigger and-

“FUCK” Jungkook jumped from the bed making you lose his warmness. You quickly got up and hugged him from behind feeling him trembling more than usual. A simple motion from Jungkook and you already felt in panic.

“It’s fine baby, it’s another day now, I’m here baby” you couldn’t handle it anymore but Jungkook was your strength, your start, your one and only, and now, your entire day and night. It was him every time and everyday. It took a couple of minutes for Jungkook to calm down and look you in eyes. “What are we going to do, gguk?”

“I don’t know babygirl, but we’ll find a way.”

And that gave you the strength for your legs to work correctly, your hands not to tremble and your head not to fail you.

The last 12 days have been the same. You wake up around 1:36:29 p.m. and Jungkook or wakes 27 seconds later or 45 minutes and 57 seconds later.

Those 27 seconds put Jungkook in a choice between trying harder or giving up. All this without you. Because in that moment, you already have a perfect shot in between your eyes. Has the days pass, Jungkook started to give up more often because he feels lost without you. In a life without you, Jungkook anticipates the death that comes 27 seconds later.

With 45 minutes and 57 seconds, Jungkook runs through the streets of his hometown trying to escape the hands of the police but nothing makes him free. Without you, freedom isn’t free.

You’ve been planning the robbery for 1 week now but those 12 days you never expected to have, have given you the future. You knew what time the clients would enter, what for and what time they would leave the chosen bank but still, you would get caught every single time.

After calming Jungkook down, you start the day by reviewing the plan against Jungkook’s chest while seating in your cold ground.

“What’s the weather for today?” Jungkook hugs your waist and leaves little kisses on your shoulder while you search the weather in your old computer.

“The same as usual. Traffic too. The same fuckin day.”

“Hey, hey, baby” you turned your body following his hands to your face, to face him and meet his black eyes. “We will be fine, i promise you okay? I’ll get you out of this, I promise.” Your face drops to his shoulder and he rubs your neck trying to comfort you and your fears. “I have an idea but you are not going to like it.”

“Shot, I have nothing to lose.”

“Let’s stick to plan but exactly at 4:31 and” he looks closely at his watch as you slowly lift up your head “21 seconds, you can take the car th-“

“No.”

You got up but Jungkook catches you in one move and honestly, you didn’t want to leave, Jungkook’s arms felt too good and too right for you to lose them.

“Baby, I would come to you as soon as I could and then we would run to whatever country you want.” You were again against Jungkook’s chest and you could feel his pulse. Always calming and relaxing.

“Whatever country I want?” Your eyes light up to the sound of your dream on your mind and Jungkook felt the luckiest man in the world for being to call you his.

“Whatever you want.”

“Still it’s a no gguk.”

It makes you alive in the most deadly way ever. Feeling like you may lose him to a stupid robbery but that you need.

You and Jungkook lost 10 minutes arguing about a quick escape you weren’t accepting, but as much stubborn as you were, Jungkook can sometimes be worse than you, so, only after promising you that he would buy you the biggest house near the beach and cuddle with you for the rest of your life, you accept his offer.

3:56:32

You drove to the center of Jungkook’s least favorite city and waited there, holding hands with him and jamming to some pop song on the radio, for a pregnant women with black hair and a trolley to close the door of the bank. Looking at the streets, you see more than a normal city.

You met Jungkook in that same town. It was raining, you were alone in your uncomfortable heels and no cabs were around.

“Need a ride home baby?” You met his gaze when you looked at your right. It was dark but fuck, you swear to god you saw an angel. Black hair, black eyes, and all black outfit, but you still see him was the purest angel.

“Oh-h no, I’m fine, thank you. I’m just going to walk.” You started to walk in the opposite way but he followed you. You aren’t afraid of death. You are afraid of dying being a piece of shit to the world and so, for every second Jungkook followed you down the streets, you thought about how not ready you were to die.

“I’m not making uncomfortable, right?”

“You are. Like, a lot.”

“Thank god, you said it. I’m already tired of walking.”

And he left. You were again alone, 5 km away from your house. 10 seconds before you were scared of dying and now you are searching for your earphones and plugging them on your phone so the walk would be less lonely.

You were walking peacefully for a couple of minutes but, as much lucky you can be sometimes, life, once in a while, tries to scare you along the way or more specifically to teach to look at both sides before crossing the road so, while listening to the loudest song on your playlist, you were almost hit by a black motorbike, and guess who was driving? Yes, the man of your life. The one and only Jeon Jungkook. You fell to the ground and your hand burned in pain.

“WHAT THE FUCK, are you okay?!” The all in black guy jumped from the bike and ran to you.

“Yeah-yeah, I’m fine, fuck,” Jungkook placed a hand on your back and other around your legs, and lift you up.”I just want to get home, just sit me in the bench please.” Your hand was bleeding but the pain would start to go away. Jungkook walked the opposite way of the bench but you were already ready to pass out due to the blood on your skirt.”Jungkook, no, not there, the bench.”

“No, I’m taking you home.”

And without noticing, Jungkook cured your wound with some first aids he had left on his motorbike and you were now speeding through the streets of your now second hometown.

3:59:01

The streets were clear and Jungkook made the first move to get out of the car. You followed him, after turning off the radio. He made his way to you, grabbed your hand and helped you get out of the car.

“It will be easy. Stick to the plan and, in 1 hour, we will be heading to whatever country you want baby.” He kissed you and you both walked to the bank.

You were in a constant déjà vu. You knew every look the clients would do. How much time would take to the police arrive. Which TV station would arrive first. Which child would cry first. But Jungkook? He was never the same. Always unpredictable and mysterious.

This building was huge from the out and inside, and for as much days you spent there, it always looks intimidating.

Jungkook opened the glass door for you, you stepped inside the building and the first thing you do is search for your earphones, plug them in your phone and then connect your phone to the bank’s network.

YOU ARE NOW LISTENING TO PARTNERS IN CRIME FROM THE STROKES

The whole building was now connected to your phone. Every employee, every client, and those you pass in front of this place would hear your favorite song of all time. You made sure to leave it in max volume so everyone could hear it.

You never understood why massive buildings as a bank would all be connected to the same network. You lost the interest in hacking these type of services, because they give an open window.

Everyone around you felt confused and some looked like hurting what you found quite offensive.

You and Jungkook waited about 10 seconds of those you decide to leave but no one did.

Time is underrated. Without time, in every circumstance, we are nothing. Look at you. You are living in a loop of time. If you are forced to live here, you are nothing but if you do nothing with the time they give you, you are nothing as well.

No one moved from their spot, so you grabbed your gun from your back and shot the first camera you could find. Jungkook did the same in the opposite side and exactly 7 people ran away while the other 21 lay on the ground. You ran to the door and locked it with 8 handcuffs.

Why? It will be easy for the hostages to get away and it will definitely be a distraction for the police.

“All done here.” You turn around and you don’t find Jungkook. He was probably cutting some wires behind the balcony, but you were so scared of losing him that seconds were days.

Fuck. Don’t freak out. Play it cool y/n.

You moved to the center of the now messy bank and look through the scared crowd. You shot the air for no reason.

“Hello everyone! My name is two.” You do the peace sign and do a quick round so everyone could see and hear it. “Yes, the number two. I won’t take long, I promise. In 1 hours you will all be at your house with family, friends or even alone. I’m, for sure, not here to hurt you or give a traumatic experience. Just don’t do stupid things and we will be out of here as soon as possible. Ok?”

“ok!” you jump a little from Jungkook’s voice on your ear and you curse at yourself for always getting scared. He always does it but in different situations and you are sick of it. (not really but ://) You push him a little and he placed a transparent card on your hand. You start to walk to the stairs while hearing Jungkook give some instructions to the hostages.

4:00:05

You reached the computer room. It was full of people writing in their own computer while discussing the reason of the loud music. Everyone looked so confused that it was quite funny, you would say. And yes, the music was on repeat.

Computer 19, line 23

You reach “your” quite messy desk that belong to the secretary from downstairs and took from your bag an usb pen and some codes so you could start working.

On the other side, Jungkook leaned 7 hostages to the cafeteria, and other 7 to the waiting room.

In 35 minutes, the police would arrive and Jungkook tries to understand where the leak is. For 35 minutes Jungkook walked from room to room but nothing seemed off. Everything looked too perfect for it to fail something this important as someone secretly calling the police.

4:27:09

TRANSITION at 45%

You successfully broke the network and robbed each and every person on that building with only some codes and clicks. You were 4 minutes away from getting away with nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Boo: 44%?

You: 45% ahaha

Boo: how can you laugh? We are robbing a bank

You: your idea asshole

Boo: I CAN’T FIND THAT ONE MEME YOU ARE TELLING ME TO FUCK OFF

Boo: but baby

Boo: can you go now? I will handle that

Boo: i promise

You fear being without Jungkook. You fear losing him to this. You fear a world where Jungkook is not in it. And he fears it too.

You: i’m coming

You looked at the screen of the computer and estimate 10 minutes for it to be done. So you got down stairs, grabbed your stuff and went to find Jungkook.

You found him in the waiting room with a 65 old lady who got very but very anxious for the 13 time.

You placed your hand on his shoulder to get his attention. There was no need for words. You left a kiss on his head and left for the back door.

You found this black car with the engine on and you took no time to get in.

4:35:07

Jungkook was now alone trying to control 21 people, all at the same time when he hears the first sirens. 3 more minutes, the transition will be completed and he will be out of there.

Jungkook got it all covered. The hostages were calm and thankfully patient, the police wasn’t very close and the love of his life was safe.

Boo: is everything fine there?

You: yup, everythings fine

Well, fine wasn’t the right word to describe it. Everything was really bad. You are now, not out the country but in the back seat of the car. Both of the exits were closed with “temporary fuckin fence”. Of course you could just destroy them but everyone would notice and you couldn’t just give that way. So you got in the building again.

Jungkook got everything covered. Everything less you. And that was it. You ran to the stairs and picked the usb pen after confirming the transition. You got down and found Jungkook looking straight at you.

“WHAT THE FUCK Y/N?”

“Baby, both exits are fuckin closed, what could I do?” you sat on the stairs and stared at Jungkook thinking and thinking and thinking.

“Go back to the car, I’ll find a way.” You got up to him but he didn’t notice.

“I won’t Jungkook, I’m staying.”

“Y/n can’t you do something I tell you one fucking time?”

And so you did. You ran to the back door.

You ran to the fucking back door that you left unlocked.

You ran to the fucking back door that you left unlocked which let the police enter and shot you right in the middle of your eyes.

For the fuckin 13 time.

14:07:51

And there you were. Again on your bed. You looked at your phone. 12th April.

No longer with Jungkook in your chest but now hugging you from behind.

27 seconds passed and nothing happened. You guessed Jungkook would run the streets and escape.

You felt sleepier than any of the other days.

You felt deader than before. You just wanted to sleep all day and forget everything. So you did.

17:28:18

You woke up to the sound of your dog scratching your door.

“Sum-sumo stop that” you rolled over the bed and looked at your clock. “Fuck, what?” You slept a way too much but in the worst case, tomorrow you will just sleep even more. Your eyes widened to no sign of Jungkook at your side. You got off the bed and searched the all bedroom. No sign of his phone, clothes and neither that familiar cinnamon sense.

You searched every part of your house and nothing. You called and messaged him, and nothing would come from that.

He wouldn’t do the robbery alone right? He wouldn’t risk it all like that. Of course not. He wouldn’t.

The worst part of waiting for him was the certainty that he was capable of doing it alone without asking permission or even a warning.

So you turned on the TV.

The first channel talked about an Australia Zoo, the second about Trump, the third about the number of deaths in crime, the fourth a robbery on-

The robber was shot on the chest inside the bank while trying to remove an USB pen from the computer’s room. The assaulter was-

The rest of the night was cold. For 13 days, you were finally living something new but that you wish you would never lived. Living without Jungkook.