#man wrestling is bringing me zero joy these days

[sequentialprophet]

Sorry to be a downer but I don't want heel Skye Blue or heel Willow bc TK doesn't know how to book his most over face women🤷‍♀️

[redwayfarers]

so i made a thing i refuse to edit but here's a stupid little nika and magnai thing that's been in my head all fucking day. with a side of nika + artoirel bc they're THE otp

After the Naadam, Magnai was obviously displeased. The Oronir tribe should’ve won, without any doubt, and the little Mol were supposed to stay just that, little. Yet they’d managed to gather allies - outsiders even - and thus, until the next Naadam, the mighty Oronir are dethroned, and the Mol are just slightly bigger than they normally are.  Even in his displeasure, though, he has to admit that he finds the outsiders interesting. There’s a Doman, Hien, and his samurai friend. There are also hyur - a man and a woman. The woman Magnai cares little about, but the man catches his attention the moment the Oronir warriors bring them before him.  There’s something in his eyes, Magnai thinks. They are of different colors, but that’s the least interesting thing about them. They’re hard, they offer a challenge; when Magnai speaks, they follow the man’s words with equal defiance. He introduces himself as Nika, in a voice that still rings of boyhood, even if his body is that of a man.  Magnai later learns he also sings. But before he heard his ballads and tales, he heard his bow sing in the Naadam, and that’s what stayed with him. Nevermind that he heard Nika actually sing later, in the celebrations of the Mol’s victory, and that there was so much joy in it that it almost made Magnai forget his pride was wounded.  This man is no ordinary outsider, Magnai decides. Not only is he a khagan, but also a bowman that rivals the Oronir, and he sings songs that can make stars weep. Too bad that when their eyes meet, Nika still looks as defiant as he did back before the Naadam even took place.  Even worse, Magnai likes it that way. 

“Care to burn that dinner off, Magnai?” Nika asks. The sun is setting behind the Dawn throne, making his black hair stand out against the warm sea of rays behind him. It paints his skin with light, or maybe that’s the brilliant flash of teeth he gives Magnai as he stretches his neck. “Been sitting for a long fucking time. Isn’t it time for your twentieth daily wrestling or something?”  “That is a form of exercise, khagan,” Magnai responds, voice on edge. He takes another hard bite of meat and chews loudly. “One needs food to do it.”  “I think I know a guy who’d stare at you dead in the face for chewing like that,” Nika grimaces. Then his face changes. “I would like to see him stare you down, though. Just to see who wins. Unstoppable force against an immovable object.”  Magnai frowns. “Who is this man? Are you challenging me on his behalf?”  Nika stares. Then he bursts out laughing, like Magnai just told the funniest joke on the Steppe. Women don’t laugh at him like that, only his warrior brothers and apparently, the outsider khagan. “He has zero idea you exist at all, Magnai.”  “Take me to him! We take the yol and fly to wherever he is!” Magnai drops his plate on the ground and raises his chin. Nika’s face contorts as if he’s trying so hard to not laugh still, and then the mask breaks and he wheezes out even more laughter.  “I am not taking you to Ishgard,” Nika says in between laughs, but Magnai has no idea where Ishgard is, nor who this mysterious man may be, he only knows he doesn’t like being laughed at, and here is Nika, near crying from how hard he’s laughing. His scar scrunches around his forehead as he wipes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Artoirel would end me on sight. I care about a few people’s opinions, and his is one of them, so no, you’re not going to Ishgard, yol or no yol.” Magnai stands up. “You are in the Steppe–”  “And you’re the big bad Oronir leader guy. Brother of the Sun, was it? I respect that. You can make me break a sweat. But!” Nika raises a finger and lifts a brow. “Until the next Naadam, you’re not khagan. If that frustrates you, we can fight it out. But no Ishgard! Khagan’s orders, or whatever.”  He holds Magnai’s stare. Magnai has to admit to himself he likes that, too. 

Magnai’s vindicated heart soars when he has Nika in his room, pressed against the wall with little room to move, let alone escape. The indignancy on his face, expressive as ever, makes Magnai laugh, tall and powerful over him.  “What now, khagan?” Magnai asks, his delight obvious.  Nika claws at his skin and attempts to kick him in the shins. His hair’s in disarray, his clothes too. All of this delights Magnai to a degree he hasn’t felt in a long, long while.  “Don’t lord over me, you asshole,” Nika bites out. His breath comes out faster.  “What now, khagan?” Magnai repeats.  Nika pulls him by the horns. “This is what, you giant lizard,” he says roughly and kisses him hard. 

“We can count on you in Doma, then?” It’s the last night before Nika and the outsiders leave, with a promise of the Xaela and their yol in the upcoming battle, and it’s also the last night Magnai has to look at the uninterrupted expanse of Nika’s skin. He’ll miss it; he’ll miss its touch, he’ll miss the silky black hair, but above all, he will miss Nika’s defiant, mismatched eyes.  “Yes. Nothing threatens the Steppe.” Magnai leans on his elbow. “Good to know. Garleans are shit for everyone.” Nika settles on the bed. “What?”  “You are leaving tomorrow. I’d like to look at you.”  “No khagans this time around?”  “By the time you come to the Steppe next, you will not be one.” Magnai smiles. “You are not my Nhaama, but this was pleasant.”  “I lack tits to be your Nhaama, for one. Number two, even if I had them, I’d still not be the woman you want.” Nika turns to the side and grabs the covers. Small firelight illuminates the scar on his hand. “You don’t need tits to be a woman, but you know what I meant. As a final word of advice on that, women like it when you’re not an acerbic and prideful fuck.” He laughs, but it’s a shaky sound. “Take it from me. Otherwise, this was pleasant for me too.” Magnai laughs. “I’ll see you on the field of battle, Nika. Together, Nhaama or not, we will bring the Garlean empire to its knees. Nothing defeats the yol of the Xaela.”  Nika raises a hand. “Don’t have a drink with me, but here’s to seeing Garleans fall once and for all. And to you finding that damn Nhaama.” He then smiles, and it’s a soft, gentle thing. “I think I already found mine.”  In the morning, as Nika is flying off to save Doma, Magnai watches him go. He will really, really miss Nika’s eyes.

[pettyprocrastination]

Max Philips and Werewolf Wife hcs

@honestlystop @corrupt-fvcker @captainsamwlsn @thesadvampire @humanransome-note @biharryjames @max--phillips​

​

Alright so let me start this by saying max philips is a combination of an absolute perfect husband and father but also a goddamn M E N  A C E

He’s loving and attentive, but mf will grope you in public, not to be a dick but because his internal monolouge is like “my wife is so cool and sexy all the time i love her so much” and then he grabs your ass while youre in a whole foods. 

Often times he’ll do that cliche “honey, im home!” bit when he comes home because he KNOWS it annoys the living hell out of you and he’s been doing it since yall got married. 

He is def one of those dads who will take any moment to boast about his kids. Some employees miss when he first started working there because now if you talk about sports he’ll bring up his son’s soccer team and you’ll be stuck there for the next thirty minutes as he shows you pictures of the boys at their last game. 

That obnoxious proud dad. If one of his kids does theatre? He’s whooping and cheering their name and you have to pull him down into his seat with a sharp hiss of “sit the fuck down”

Probably has started fights with the refs at soccer games when they miss a CLEAR foul or is somebody pushes his kid?? and they don't do a goddamn thing?? Vamp dad is shouting at the ref to get their head out of their ass before he does it for them. 

Because of this Max is no longer asked to bring orange slices for the boy’s soccer team. 

You have two kids. Both boys and both elementary school age. (idk their names yet tho) and they are your babies. Pride and joy. Light of your life.

They are also tiny agents of chaos that run you both ragged. 

When it comes to allergies, theirs coincide with being werewolves+vamps. 

Your vampire son is allergic to garlic and your werewolf son is allergic to wolfsbane. Luckily the extent to this allergy is just sneezing and breaking out into hives, not, ya know, death. 

But max still has to race downstairs at three a.m. because he can hear munching and now has to wrestle garlic bread out of his son’s mouth as he has an allergic reaction while still eating it because “WE CAN’T KEEP DOING THIS ALEX” 

Meanwhile you’ll go to the park with your son and see him sneezing with every step while picking wolfsbane because “It’s just so pretty mommy.” 

Safe to say you guys are constantly exhausted.  

Now lets be real here. You're just as fiery and protective of your family if not more and goddamn he does love it. 

He takes off every full moon, drives you and the family up to the cabin where you and your son can shift in peace. He thinks its a great bonding moment for you all. Your son is just barely a pup that trots after you, and more often than not you're just making sure he doesn’t get lost, start playing in mud, or eats trash (he has done this multiple times)

Your son shifts into a lil wolf pup and it’s adorable. 

But at the same time he has that puppy energy so he’s all over the place. Running after rabbits and play biting you, you take it all in stride of course but once he tries to get back to the house covered in mud Max brings out the hose. 

“Does this count as child abuse?”

“I don’t think so, look how much fun he’s having!” *cut to your son jumping and trying to eat the water as mas sprays him down with the hose*

                                 (A few nsfw headcanons as well)

You've got that mama bear strength combined with werewolf strength that max finds insanely hot to the point that anytime you tell off some bitchy mom for making a snooty comment about your kids he has half a mind to find a closet nearby and pull you in for a quickie. 

speaking of strength, the sex? World changing. More often than not yall have to resolve to quick screws in the morning before the kids wake up and he has to go to work. But when the boys are at a sleepover or their grandparents house for the weekend? You might as well warn the neighbors cause they won’t be getting any sleep with ya’ll fucking all night lmao. 

Max doesn’t feel pain much since he’s turned, but with your strength? the feeling of your nails raking down his back just teeters on the edge of painful and he fucking lives for it. 

Any time you visit him at the office? Office sex. He’ll have that look of like barely contained excitement as he asks about your day and shows you off to his employees but he is literally shaking to get you ontop of his desk. 

you take heat suppressants because nobody has time for that shit. But when yall were first dating and you forgot to renew your prescription?? 

Max literally broke like three traffic laws driving to your place. 

You basically called him and said “im in a horny frenzy and im gonna want to fuck you stupid for the next week.”

Homeboy was like “say no more” and left his job with zero explanation to his boss before getting to his car and driving like a mad man

Max is vv touchy. Not always in a sexual way. Sometimes he just wants to lay with his head on your lap or on your chest because he’s naturally cold so he loves feeling close to you cause youre all nice and warm. Sometimes hell just hug you and grab your ass. 

“You having fun there?”

“Shhhh honey im coping with a hard day at work.”

“By holding my ass?”

“It’s a magical ass, what can I say?”

Fang pals. Idk what else to say for that one but yeah. 

[moos-cow]

’Tis The Season For SMUT

Like what I’ve posted before, I’ll be participating in @voltage-vixen​‘s  ’Tis The Season For SMUT Challenge!

So, without further ado, my first post for the challenge:

Day 1 Prompt: Kiss me under the mistletoe

Pairing: Lancelot Kingsley / Reader Fandom: Ikemen Revolution Genre: Fluff-SMUT Word Count: 2021 Warning: Graphic

“Zero! Over here!” you yell from across the street, waving a hand overhead to the wandering Ace of Hearts. Once your eyes met, he immediately walks over to you with a couple of bags in hand.

You had volunteered to head in the decorating of the Red Army Headquarters for Christmas-- a job usually taken by Jonah due to his ‘high standards of style’ as he’d call it. But like all the other officers, the closing holidays made him busier than usual; events with the nobles happening one after the other, and meetings with the Black Army for their joint Christmas event for the citizens topped his already packed-to-the-minute daily work.

Now that December has finally kicked in, you don’t hold back in your decor shopping escapades; you’d been waiting for this day to come since Halloween anyway. So, you go from shop to shop with Zero, buying all the decorations and trinkets on your list that you'll need to dress up the Headquarters. 

“What’s this?” Zero questioned the new bag you have in hand. It was a small, light-looking, brown bag that was sealed neatly with Christmas designed tape-- a standout from the colourful paper bags you carried.

“It’s a secret!” Excitement beaming from you as you began skipping back towards headquarters, looking forward to a certain Christmas tradition you'd surprise Lancelot with. “Come on, Zero!”

-

As huge as the headquarters is, with the help of some of the soldiers and maids, it took you over two weeks to completely decorate the manor from top to bottom, and inside out. It was a winter wonderland.

“One last piece,” you spoke to yourself, clutching the little brown bag you had when you went out with Zero. Where you’d choose to hang this little decor had to be special, not only to you but also to Lancelot, so you walk around the building to scan for viable locations. “Where, oh where can I hang you…”

“Y/N,” Edgar’s chipper voice called out to you just as he left Lancelot’s office with Jonah, wondering why you were walking aimlessly around the halls with a small bag in hand. “Anything the matter?”

“Edgar! Jonah!” You spun in surprise as the two sauntered towards you, Jonah’s eyes were immediately drawn to the bag in your hands, probably thinking that Edgar has given you a part of his stash of contraband sweets.

“I’m just looking for a nice place to hang these…”

Jonah arches a brow questioningly, and Edgar’s smile unwavering, as if asking you what the contents of the bag were. Your words slip out to answer the unspoken question, “... decors.”

Jonah frowned as he held out his hand, asking you to hand the bag over. You promptly hide it behind your back; but as you shift it around you, Edgar snatches it from your grip. His grin reaches from ear to ear as he and Jonah take a peek into the bag.

“Edgar!” You reach out to take the bag back, but he holds it just a little farther back and higher away from you. He may be the shortest among the officers, but he is still a good couple of inches taller than you.

“Now, now, Y/N. Why don’t you leave the hanging of this to us, hm? Besides, you’ve done a wonderful job decorating headquarters. My, you’re even better than Jonah here!” Edgar teases and chuckles at his own statement.

“Hey!” Jonah scowls at the younger man, then pouts as he turns to you, trying to get his composure back. “Anyway, Y/N, mistletoes are poisonous. It’s better to have Edgar poisoned rather than you.”

“You hurt my feelings, Queen.” Edgar banters back, waving a hand as he turns to walk away with the bag. Jonah soon follows in suit, excusing himself from you to head to his troops’ training session.

-

Another week has passed, and the red and white manor now basked in the scarlet rays of the Christmas Eve setting sun. Up until now, there was no sign of the mistletoe Edgar took from you that time. After searching high and low, you finally shrug in defeat, resigning yourself to the idea that the little ornament would never see the light of Christmas that year.

A little mistletoe won’t ruin my Christmas! You commit yourself to that simple idea as you walk back to your room to get dressed for the evening’s party. A red and gold embellished off shoulder cocktail dress laid on your bed, with a small note and a single white rose. Your heart raced at the simple gesture-- Lancelot always knew how to make you smile.

You added a scarf to your ensemble and headed out for the common area. The delicious scents and joyful sounds filled the halls of the Red Army Headquarters. Soldiers and officers alike greeted you with smiles and laughter-- long gone was the Red Army you knew when you first arrived in Cradle.

“You look beautiful.” Lancelot greeted you the moment you arrived in the common room. 

“Who do I have to thank for then?” You wrap an arm around his waist and pull him close into a hug of sorts, chuckling into his chest. “Thank you, Lancelot.”

“Well, isn’t it Mr. and Mrs. Claus!” Kyle, clearly tipsy already, raises his voice as he saunters closer to you and Lancelot with a Christmas hat in hand. He swiftly decks it on Lancelot’s head and looks at it as if it were his prized masterpiece. “Perfect.”

To your surprise, Lancelot doesn’t dare move, nor remove the said hat; prompting you to turn to him with a slightly confused look on your face.

“The idiots made me into Santa this year,” Lancelot answered with the straightest face imaginable. You lightly cough to try to hold back your laughter; alas, your shoulders shook, giving you away to the man beside you. He was just too adorable. 

“I’m sorry, it does fit you.” you laugh and fan your face with your hand, fighting back the tears of joy threatening to fall from your eyes. “You’ll make a great Santa, Lancelot.”

A smile graced his features as the events of the night started. Overflowing food and drinks were served, music and chatter filled the air, and gifts were exchanged. You scan the room, burning the scene before you into memory-- Kyle, already on his umpteenth bottle of beer, started challenging soldiers to an arm-wrestling challenge, while Edgar and Zero stood by to watch and further insight until the whole thing goes down in flames; Jonah was receiving gifts from the soldier members of ‘Jonah's Heart Defenders’ at the other end with a fresh plate of mille-feuille before him; and, Lancelot… You strained your eyes to look for him in the busy crowd, and finally, find him alone by the Christmas tree, tinkering with one of the hung ornaments.

You saunter to him, bringing two flutes of champagne for each of you. He turns to you just as you arrive. With a clink of your flutes, you greet each other just as the grandfather clock struck 12 in the main hall.

“Merry Christmas, Lancelot.” 

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.” 

Lancelot cupped your cheek in his hand and gently pulled you close to meet your lips with his-- a soft and delicate kiss that started to heat up with every passing second.

“Ahem- King Lancelot,” Jonah interjected, prompting you to cut your quick make-out session with Lancelot. The Queen’s brows furrowed and his eyes looked away, yet his cheeks contradicted his expression as he blushed a light shade of pink, “Your speech.”

Lancelot gave Jonah a curt nod before facing back to you. You smile at him and lightly squeeze his hand, “Go get ‘em, Santa.”

His hand never left yours for the duration of the party-- through the officer’s speeches, to the farewell greetings. He only let you go as you both stopped in front of your bedroom door, twirling you in the hall and straight into his arms. 

Hands to the small of your back, Lancelot pulls you in closer for another kiss. 

“Mm- What was that for?” you look up to him, only now noticing that his eyes were red, and not their usual blue. "Hey!" 

He chuckles and points a finger up towards a floating mistletoe over your heads, the mistletoe you've been looking for the past week. 

"Oh- Why is that with you?!" Your cheeks warm up from the thought of Edgar handing the little bag to his King. 

Drat. Edgar.

You wanted to surprise Lancelot by kissing him under the mistletoe, but now, the complete opposite seemed to happen. 

"I’ve always wanted to try that." Lancelot suddenly confesses, eyes locked onto the floating mistletoe above. 

"You know you have to ask first, right?" you chuckle at his innocence.

"I suppose." he straightens up and holds you closer, tilting your head up with a finger to meet his gaze. He starts again, "Y/N, may I kiss you under this mistletoe?"

"Of course." 

You meet his lips in a fervent kiss, and when you break, Lancelot's lips travel down, leaving a wet trail to your neck as he rids the scarf off your skin. His warm hands make their way down to the curve of your sides, eliciting a sigh from you as you call his name.

"Mistletoe kisses don't always have to be on the lips, you know." He says between nips, breath blowing against your heated skin; sending shivers straight down to your core.

"Mhmm," you hum at the feeling of his fingers brushing the underside of your clothed breast, and you lightly tug at the front of his uniform before reaching up to run a hand through his blonde locks.  

Lancelot bites down and sucks onto your flesh as he pushes you flush against the door. A soft moan escapes your lips at the sudden mix of pain and pleasure;  "Lance-" 

"Yes?" he drags his sultry reply as slowly as his hand travels down to the front of your skirt, raking the clothing up until his fingers could skim across your skin. 

"We're in the hall." You shudder in his hold as the heat between your legs started to grow more intolerable, throbbing at the need for more.

"So?" he teases, bringing his lips up to your ear to nibble on your lobe while his hand continuously skims across your inner thighs, purposefully missing your clothed womanhood.

Words won't get to him, so you reply in kind-- hand skimming over his uniform before resting over the growing tent of his pants. He growls and slightly bucks his hips against your hand at the faint touch, chasing the friction his body longs for. 

He catches your grin in a hungry kiss, swallowing your moans as he presses his fingers against your clothed sex, coaxing agonizingly slow circles against the little bundle of nerves. You tremble in his grasp, panting heavily from every shock sent throughout your body.

"Lancelot," you whine, instinctively grinding against his hand. He doesn't stop, nor does he speed up. His clear blue eyes lock into yours for a moment, heavy and full of lust. 

He strains his ears to hear the approaching sound of company-- muffled footsteps and faint chatter coming from the west wing. Your eyes widen once the sound reaches your ears. 

Lancelot quickly wraps an arm around your waist and opens the door behind you, causing you to both stumble gracelessly onto the carpets of your room with a thud.

You find yourself laying on top of Lancelot, with his arm still wrapped around your waist protectively. Both of you were still caught in a daze from the last minute's incident. 

You break into a smile, then burst into a laugh; prompting the man beneath you to laugh as well. 

"So?" you spoke, trying your best to impersonate Lancelot's earlier reply despite your intense laughter.

Tears rolled freely down your cheeks from the laughter, and Lancelot wiped them with the pads of his thumbs before pulling you into another kiss.

A Merry Christmas indeed. 

[undergoingcalibrations]

Fall of Central (On Jack’s Mother)

The pocket watch was hers, once. Jack Sr. knew his Evangeline too well to get down on one knee offering something as frivolous as a ring. A way to keep time and light enough to see by when power shorted, this is all the assurance a hyperlane sailor can hope for her long tours in the black. For her husband it is enough to know that every time she marks the hour against her schedule, there too will he be. A few years later Johnny joined him in the picture in her breast pocket. Ev never thought she'd be a mother. She knew she'd never be any good at it, that the memories of her own parents had made her cold, distant with her son for fear of damaging, like a porcelain figurine. All this was forgivable, for a time. He had Jack, whose work rarely took him outside their house on Tantalus, and so long as he had Jack, Jack of old-old stories and singing and stargazing, then it was enough for Johnny to know that his mother was bound on important journeys, that her cargo kept the lights on on both sides of her route.

Then communications went down on the return leg of a months long circuit of the Borderlands. Longer than she liked, but lucrative work serving the pioneers in those days, before humanity learned the price of optimism. She spent the final days preparing herself for the situation on Tantalus. Wildfires were common on a planet dry enough to be named for myth's thirstiest man. Ditto for dust storms. Either could bring down a critical tower, backed by enough severity.

Oh, there was fire. There was dust. The Aulises has made their home far enough away from the major ports that the town's emergency shields had held against the bombing. No, it was what was already beneath that was the trouble. Supplies had evaporated quicker than the spring's flash-rivers. In the wake of Central hunger had taken up her romance with her old bed-fellow, fear.  

A game programmer and a boy of nine are not a compelling defence, against the desperate.

Johnny didn't speak to her, when she came in through where a door had been. He did not speak for months. When at last his voice returned, and with it his stutter fiercer than it had ever been, he could not speak to how Jack died, let alone the origin of the second body. Not refused to. Could not. The interim between Central and Hyperion no longer existed for him. Life was better, once. It was worse now. How it came to pass was irrelevant.

This is not an uncommon story among his generation.

Perhaps if Jack had died during Central's reign, Ev would have had compensation enough to support her son while she found work that would not keep her too long away to raise a child. And if in the end she had had to give him up, the Aulis's had been kind to her, least as kind as Corefolk got with a hyperlane hayseed. The Core. It may as well have been Oz, now. Hyperion lacked patience for her situation. Your mother, or the juvenile productivity camps, take your pick. Just be back in the air by Monday.

She wrestled with her choice for over a decade. Johnny never held it against her, save on his 16th birthday, when she could afford the few days to take him touring  Hyperion's sanctioned schools. He had broken down when they approached Tantalus' orbit, ("Don't send me back there. It's not like she says.") and all his mother could tell him was one more year. At least it was only one more year. As if even a day had been acceptable to ask of him.

Ev made the mistake of forgiving herself on his wedding day. They had shared a glance as night crept into early morning and both laughed at one of Cassandra's terrible puns, and without speaking knew all at once that it was over. They had come out the other side. She gave him her watch, then, on impulse, to keep Cassie near. Soon enough he kept her and Angel (Cassie talked him down from Evangeline, to Ev's joy, having always found the full title unwieldy), both, tucked in his breast pocket

Then they died. The whole family. Bandits. It wasn't uncommon, even in the Edens. It was nothing Ev, at this point, found difficult to believe.

Now Cassie, rest her soul, Cassie stayed in the ground for good. But 9 years later, she saw Johnny on TV.  As her mind again and again failed to resolve that steel-clasped mockery she prayed that whoever killed him had sold his skin and credentials on the black market because at least his staying dead would now by some miracle be kinder.

Yet she could not look away. She followed Handsome Jack's broadcast appearances for his entire seven-year term, hoping against hope that the next interview or execution or so often now both would hold the salving evidence that this was an utter stranger to her. But the man wearing her son's face spoke of Tantalus with accuracy beneath his clear contempt, would approach lucidity as he conjured an image of his father in the mind of a rapt crowd if only to sow in their hearts a fraction of the wrath he felt when that thug ended him, when he hears the crimes of that creature's Pandoran ilk.  

What a way to learn her son had ended a man's life while his smile still held milk teeth.

She attempted to contact him, after that anecdote. Not that she had any idea what she hoped to accomplish, only an unignorable feeling that she had some responsibility to her fellow man to have words with what she wrought. It didn't matter that she was without a plan, in the end. He was untouchable. She was nothing. A glorified trucker. If her echoes ever made it far enough up the food chain to cross his screen, he gave no sign. Evangeline, Cassandra, Angel; there were as unreal to him as his father's death and avenging had been for decades. At least so long as the cameras were rolling.

His death did not move her, one way or another. It was only the flow of time reasserting itself, facts once again aligning themselves with her understanding that he had been dead for a very long time. 

Angel's did. Her namesake will not speak of this grief for us or for any.  Life was better, once. It was worse now. It should never have come to pass while her grandmother breathed.

Ev stared, numb, at the figure yawning zeroes that appeared in her account the second her heart stopped. A dead drop insurance payout. A king’s ransom, still a pittance of what her son had had all the same, and to think, to think Angel had set it aside for the woman who never tried to find her.

The bounty on Sirens is high, in the Borderlands.

Evangeline Aulis keeps the bounty on their hunters higher.

[tessatechaitea]

Black Canary: New Wings #1

Nothing says Seattle more than a fishnetted woman in a blond wig and bustier preparing to kick your ass.

I remember being excited about this series when it came out but I can't remember why I felt excited about it. Is that a metaphor for life? Why can't I feel the joy in the remembrance? I look at it now and just think, "This looks fucking boring." And that's me being boring! Usually I'd say something like, "If this comic book were an imaginary genetic disorder, it would be reverse Prader-Willi Syndrome because I don't want more of it ever." Holy shit that was terrible. Especially since "reverse Prader-Willi Syndrome" is probably Angelman syndrome. And this comic book isn't that at all because it doesn't make me happy or thirsty. I never actually said I was funny! The words, "I have a great sense of humor named Marcus," never passed my keyboard. That's what you chose to believe! But that other thing you believed, the one where I'm a terrible person who would make light of serious genetic disorders for the sake of a truly terrible metaphor? Yeah, that's true. I own that one. "Black Canary" is an anagram for "Crack by anal." I'm suddenly more interested in this comic book because it must secretly be about doing crack through your butthole or else why would that anagram exist? I just realized what I've been doing wrong my entire life. It's more fun to live by Coast to Coast AM midnight caller logic where you believe every thought that enters your head must be true rather than have to live within the confines of reality! The issue begins with the host of a Seattle radio station asking callers this question: "Does migrating gang activity threaten Seattle's Asian neighborhoods?" Probably! I bet it's all that anal crack coming up from Southern California! If you're not a American, I added that so you understand where all the gangs migrate from in the United States. Seattle is too overcast and wet to come up with its own gang activity. Nobody would be threatened by The Puddle-Jumpers or The Caffeine Splashettes or Pike's Place Bass Solos or The Ardent Un-Umbrellaists or We Love Trees, Bitch. At first I was going to be upset about the "migrating gangs" comment because I'm the stereotypical Californian who wound up living in the Pacific Northwest. But it's not totally my fault since my divorced dad moved up here and I spent a lot of time up here and I fell in love with it up here. So I guess that's one thing I can think my father for! The radio host calls for the people in the Asian community to rise up and kick gang ass to help make their streets safer. And he doesn't just talk the talk! He kicks the ass the kicks the ass! Why doesn't that work like "talk the talk"?!

I don't know how the drug dealer managed to give his money to the buyer and get his ass kicked to boot. What a lousy businessman.

Even though I don't recognize her name, I'm glad to see a woman is writing this comic book. That probably means we won't have more than two scenes where Black Canary is wearing a towel or kicking ass in her underwear. Oh wait! I'm a male infused with male gaze! I meant to say, "I'm sad to see a woman is writing this comic book. That probably means we won't have more than two scenes where Black Canary is wearing a towel or kicking ass in her underwear." Whew! I almost betrayed my gender for a second! I must be low on testosterone! I'd better go out on the street and "accidentally" bump into a guy smaller than me so I can start some shit! Okay, I'm back! Did you know small guys are pretty tough? Also, do you think I need to make an appointment with a dentist if several of my teeth feel lose? Do they just naturally stiffen back up if I stop wiggling them with my tongue?! I sit staring at the page following the one I scanned for several minutes. I don't know if it's just too confusing with all that's happening or the kick of testosterone my body just received from the fight. It could also be head trauma from totally winning the fight.

The terrible business man drug dealer is a black guy working for a white supremacist Neo-Nazi. He calls the radio host a China Doll which seems weird although kudos to him for not being gendered in his racial slurs, I guess? According to the footprint patterns on the ground, they were also practicing a dance while wrestling over drug money. The drug dealer admits to having lost his money in a drug deal for the third time this week because I don't even know how that happens. He hands the money to the buyer to let the buyer make the change? Nearby, Dinah can't sleep because the birds outside of her window are too loud and maybe the dancing going on under her window but she looks to the sky when she sticks her head out of the window so what am I supposed to believe? She decides to read some relaxing literature about the feminist politics of housework and then gives up to go practice her judo. That's a fucking lot going on in one page!

Later, Dinah does her budget for the month and discovers Green Arrow is spending too much money on boxing glove arrows. Apparently being a Seattle vigilante doesn't bring in much cash and Dinah has been paying all the bills with her Sherwood Florist flower shop. I guess Oliver Queen didn't have any money in 1991? Maybe Crisis on Infinite Earths wiped out his bank account and he wouldn't get it back until Zero Hour? Anyway, Dinah is pretty pissed with Oliver's spending habits.

I know Dinah is chastising Ollie for being a brutish pig here but technically he wins the argument because she describes his sexing as hot.

Dinah heads up to the Quinault Indian Reservation to get some mystic wisdom from Aunty Wren, an elderly Native American woman. Her advice is "Ask the douchebag for help." It comes across as a critique of Black Canary being too prideful to ask for help because she's a strong woman who doesn't need anybody. But I like to think the point of the advice is this: if Oliver isn't helping out, ask him to help. If he doesn't help out after asking him to, you now know he's a useless piece of unforgivable shit that needs to be thrown in a dumpster. If I don't think that then I have to think this: Oh, sure! Blame the woman for needing to be too strong! How about blaming the man for being a grown ass man child that won't take responsibility without being told to take it after which he'll only grouse about how much he's being nagged. But then again, I don't need any more reasons to dislike Green Arrow than this one: he's a fucking Robin Hood cosplayer with stupid facial hair who fights against modern weapons with a bow and arrows. Aunty Wren introduces Dinah to Gan Nguyen, the radio show host vigilante. He's also an Asian translator for the Quinault. Gan and Dinah flirt a bit while getting to know each other before heading back to Seattle on the ferry. While Dinah is in the toilet, Gan gets jumped by some gang members who have been looking for him. Dinah changes into Black Canary, kicks some ass, and saves the day. Later, Gan is all, "I know it was you who saved me but I won't say that explicitly! Just so you know you can tell me if you want to tell me and I won't say anything but I know and you know I know!" Dinah is all, "Yeah, yeah. Whatever." And that's almost the end except for an epilogue that's some pretty damn fine and insightful writing about our country and what the fuck has been going wrong (and gone wrong) with it.

Fucking hell that's good stuff.

Black Canary: New Wings #1 Rating: A. This is why I'm sad comic books are no longer really affordable. In 1991, this comic book was $1.75 which was easily cheap enough to pick it up and see what it was about. Doing so let me read a really great story with a point of view and something to say. If this were on the shelves today at $4.00, the only people giving it a chance would be Black Canary fans. That's a fucking shame and the main problem with print comics today. They're just too fucking expensive to take a chance on anything that isn't already in your fandom alley (or by a writer or artist you love). Not to mention how the cover didn't excite me at all! But I still picked it up to see what was going on with Black Canary and apparently past me liked it as much as current me because I got the whole mini-series and at least a few issues of the series that followed it. Well done, Sarah Byam!

[crasherfly]

Weekly Update

It’s never enough.

Be it progress in a hobby, pages written, reps in a workout, miles run, dollars spent at local businesses, weight lost and gained back, video games completed or personal apologies issued to people I’ve been too brisk with online- the prevailing theme of 2020 has been IT’S NOT ENOUGH.

This is, on its face, ridiculous. We are in a pandemic. Whatever reservations you might have about the virus, the fact is economically, we will be in dire straits for some time. Surviving should be enough. Thriving should be considered a rare bonus.

Even so, this December, I’ve struggled a great deal with feeling like I’m bringing “enough” to the table in anything I do. If I play a video game, I lament that I’m not good enough at it. If I write, I mourn the words that go unwritten. In my friendships, I fixate on small arguments that I drew myself into, or a harsh word I shouldn’t have said, worried over their long-term impact. There’s a dozen anime shows I haven’t finished. I have a script that needs pages, an end of year anime blog that needs writing. I keep skipping meditation sessions and forgetting to brush my teeth. The NBA season starts tomorrow- will I watch it to have something to talk to other folks about, or will I settle into something easier to fill the time? 

Time.

I have nothing but time. I’m off until January 5th. I’ve had more time off this entire year than I’ve had any year since college. I tell myself this means I should be doing something remarkable, and yet, with more and more time off, I find I’m just doing the same things I would normally do- just in bigger quantity.

My therapist tells me it’s cuz I grew up in a home where praise was hard won- if ever given. Growing up with this deficit, it is only natural that I’d rarely feel like anything is “enough”- and blame myself when I feel lacking.

We’re still working on a solution for it.

I do know there are Good Things that I have accomplished this year. I made new friends. I became more knowledgeable about my hobbies. I picked up some new healthy habits- running, kettlebells, core workouts. I lost a little weight. I disconnected from the violently angry media sources that had wormed their way into my brain since my Gawker days. I got out of a little debt. I developed a more positive relationship with alcohol. I got to therapy. I’m becoming more comfortable with speaking truth to how I feel, instead of burying my feelings.

I still fail in many things. I have a laundry list of moments I failed this week to review with my therapist. I’m still not in a place where I can be a functional adult while also working a full time job.  I have lost friends this year because I am a hard person to endure. I have had to issue more apologies this year than perhaps in any year prior. And the people who know me best would still point out, rightly, that I sound like a very different person in online public spaces than I do privately.

As 2020 comes to a close, I’m thinking about the theme I want to bring into 2021- and my 32nd year on this globe. And I think the theme I want to embrace is vulnerability, which is, ironically, the theme I struggle the most with in my personal life. I am, by nature, a secretive person- reclusive, even. Without getting into a whole Thing here, I would just say “meet my parents” and you’d get why. This shit’s been wired into me.

But as I look back on many of my issues the past year- my breakowns and spirals, the arguments, the friends lost and stresses placed on my loved ones- so much could have been avoided if I was willing to just explain what was going on in my life.

I don’t mean the long stylized depression posts I was doing back in August. Those are helpful to a point, but they don’t actually drive toward a conclusion. I mean talking about how I feel in plain terms, and explaining the pressures that lead to those feelings.

‘Cuz I think we can all agree that after almost a full year of relating to each other almost exclusively through cynical tweets and mirthless retweets that we as humans are desperately deficient in nuance- an ingredient essential to understanding each other in actual human contexts. And the only way for nuance to be understood is to speak plainly and directly to one another.

I’m going to try and do more of that in 2021. Here’s hoping the results are good.

So lets talk some vidya games and anime, yeah?

Vidya Games

BlazBlue: Centralfiction and BlazBlue: Cross Tag Battle (SWITCH)

Arc Systems was having a switch sale. I’d enjoyed my time with Guilty Gear and noticed the BlazBlue series was relatively cheap, so I picked them up. I’d seen some of the fighters on Spriteclub before, so I was excited to expand my fighting game knowledge a bit further.

BlazBlue is a 2d fighting game that uses drawn sprite fighters. The effect is a beautiful anime more reminiscent of Street Fighter or King of Fighters, but with modern mechanics that make them feel more approachable. The rosters are huge and the individual fighters varied. There’s a full “episodes” mode, as well as plenty of options for training and tutorials.

Of the two games, Cross Tag seems like the easier to pick up. I’m a sucker for tag systems so that one is an easier sell for me. It’s also fun to see the crew from Persona 4 on the roster, not to mention RWBY. 

Centralfiction seems to be more mechanics focused, but also includes a “stylish” mode that plays like Capcom Vs. SNK 2′s EO mode, where supers and command list moves are tied to single buttons instead of complex commands, allowing you to see everything a character can do without being stuck in hours of practice. I’m still trying to learn those damn quarter circle moves, but it’s a nice fallback option for moments where I’m not looking to exhaust my brain and thumbs.

Mario Maker 2 (SWITCH)

I’ve built three levels in the last week for Super Mario Maker 2. One I built during a work meeting, the other two I did as morning exercises over coffee. They’ve all been moderately played since and feature clear rates over 25%, so I’ll consider them a success.

I’ve uploaded over 40 courses to SMM2 since its release. That’s far more than I ever uploaded with the first game. I think Nintendo missed some big opportunities to make this game a centerpiece for the Switch. I also think the diehard fans got in their own way (designing courses on your tv is honestly not that hard- in fact, I prefer it to the portable option now). But overall, I do think that SMM2 is a success- at least for casual fans like me who value standard level design and ease of access.

TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES

My gaming has been somewhat hampered by the sudden implosion of my Samsung television, which houses my XBONE and Switch. About a week ago it shut down and began to flicker on and off. I unplugged it overnight and powered it on the next day to find a long black horizontal line across the panel and discoloration beneath the line. A call in to Samsung confirmed my fears- it was a wire defect and would require extensive service work. Because of the pandemic, it would take at least a few weeks before the part could make it.

The TV is still usable, so that’s a relief. I’m not dwelling on it much. Samsung was easy to deal with and they’ve promised this will come at no cost to me. There are many worse things happening in the world, so this is an easy thing to let roll off my shoulders now that I know what the solution is.

I also MIGHT have a Series X. Key  word is MIGHT because I technically got my order in on the 18th, but Gamestop has yet to actually send a confirmation e-mail. However my order number appears valid and does pull up a processing page on their site, so I’m going to hang tight. I ended up pulling the trigger on a massive bundle that includes a very expensive headset and a second controller...as well as a copy of Assassin’s Creed. I can’t emphasize enough how NOT the primary audience I am for AC. However, I doubt I could pay anyone to take it off my hands at this point...so...whatever. At least there’s a chance I’ll have the new system.

My final bit of news on the technical front- I returned Cyberpunk 2077. I have zero regrets. Microsoft processed my refund in about 15 minutes without issue. I was on XBONE and yes, I tried the 1.4 update. Frankly, the update did seem to improve matters, but not so much as to be a game changer. And as I wrestled with the conundrum of powering through, or shelving the game in hopes of a future update that would magically fix everything, I finally opted to take the third option- and get off this damn train at the first possible stop. I will play Cyberpunk 2077 someday. Hopefully, when that day comes, this whole mess will be somewhat resolved.

ANIME

Jujutsu Kaisen

Season 1 has officially earned a “this show is straight fire” tweet from me. It’s just so good. The fights are thrilling. The emotional investment is real. The cast is outstanding. The design is imaginative, moody and the prettiest direction to behold this side of Fire Force.

Do yourself a favor and give this show a shot. It’s my top recommendation for the winter.

No Guns Life

I’ve almost wrapped the first half of season 1. This lovely noir continues to impress as its world unfolds. It is sure to please those itching for a cyberpunk or technoir story. The overall story still feels a bit unfocused, but I’m not minding too much. No Guns Life is one of those worlds that’s just a joy to be a part of, even when we’re unsure what its driving at.

END OF YEAR LISTS

Tis the season for LISTS. Oh man, so many lists.

I’ll be focusing my 2020 end of year stuff on anime and video games this year, because of course. I’ll also talk a little about media I’ve been enjoying. It’ll be a whole THING, either here or on wordpress.

But here’s a quick preview for those who are a bit curious about what titles I’ll be visiting for my Top Experiences list. Bear in mind that these are not confined to 2020 releases- this is purely about what I as a person dabbled in this year. Here’s what you can expect me to touch on in my end of year post :)

Games

Crusader Kings III Call of Duty: Warzone Yakuza 0 The Legend of Heroes: Trails of Cold Steel Fighting Games (genre) Consoles Oculus Quest 2 NEO-GEO Arcade Stick Pro Anime

Re:Zero - Starting Life in Another World Gleipnir Jujutsu Kaisen No Guns Life Kaguya-sama: Love is War DECA-DENCE Tower of God

Manga

Berserk Fruits Basket

Tabletop

Dungeons and Dragons 5E: The Lost Mines of Phandelver/Ghosts of Saltmarsh

Streaming

Spriteclub Gawr Gura/Hololive WWE Network

Lifestyle

Kotatsus Sake

Music

Nightcore (genre) Personal Projects Alice and the Pale Horse (script) Legos (various sets) Like I said, this is gonna be a big ol’ THING. But I can’t wait to share it with you all :D

[myshippingwrites]

MC not wanting to get out of bed in the morning

Yoosung:

You usually wake up about the same time since you both love to sleep. But yoosung was awfully perky this morning and you were just not having it, you wanted to stay in bed as long as possible. “Mc! Good morning!!” You have a half mumble and half grumble sound escape your lips. “Come on mc” he said with a little bit of a whine in his voice, he then comes and lays beside you and starts pecking your face with kisses. You eventually roll to your other side and pull the blanket over your head “Ouch mc are you just going to ignore my kisses?” You then make snoring sounds to hint that you are not getting out of bed and yes you are ignoring his adorable kisses. “Hmph no choice then.” He then kneels over your sleeping frame. You curiously pull the blankets down a little and open one eye to look at him and he flashes an adorable smile at you that then quickly goes evil. The tickle monster has been set free. You desperately try to break from his tickling grasps but he has no mercy. Eventually you fight back and start tickling him. Which leads to you two sort of wrestling each other (even though he is very clearly winning) right when you think you have the advantage he pins you down. This leads to you rolling around a bunch and eventually you both end up rolling right off the bed, blankets and all. Immediate laughter filled the house. As the laughter calms and you catch your breath you lean over your husband to say, “Fine.” He has this smug/ sheepish little grin on his face. You rub your fingers through his hair and then bring your lips ever so gently towards his, and stop right before touching, “good morning” you whisper and then quickly stand up and run away, before yoosung (who is on the floor eyes closed expecting his kiss) opens his eyes to spring after you to get his said kiss.

Zen:

Zen is usually awake before you, since you are such a sound sleeper you sleep right through the alarm. So to help zen has given you a kiss every morning for your alarm clock. But today you had no intention of leaving your comfy bed, you were beyond exhausted. Just like every morning you are woken with a light kiss. But you instantly fall back asleep. Within seconds another peck. You decide to mess with him. “No! Our love is forbidden.” You say as if you are sleep talking. Zen has a very quizzical/confused look on his face, And he recognizes quickly the line from you rehearsed with him just the other day. a smirk grows on his lips. He then kneels on the side of the bed next to you and strokes your hair. “Yea, the world seems to want us to depart our own ways. My Brain tells me I must go, but yet my heart yearns to stay. “My heart yearns the same my love, shall I compare thee to a summers day? Thou art more temperate and fair.(snore)” Zen lets out a light laugh “thats a different play mc.” and then grabs your hand and presses it to his lips. “Your words Pierce my very heart and bring me joy I cannot live without! Why don’t we forget the bonds which our placed upon us and go and form anew?” “Though nothing more could bring me such joy, I am bound to the world, And have been promised to another.” Zen did not think this was going to go this direction.. “My lady, to whom are you promised? And dost though return his affections?” You move slightly away from him and cover yourself with more blankets. “His name is sleep, my lovely zen. And it’s not a matter of affection but of necessity.” Zen couldn’t contain his laughter. “Oh so sleep is my rival now huh?” He brings his lips to your ear and gives it a quick kiss, whispering “I think I can take him”

Jumin:

Jumin always has to get up early in the mornings, you are not really a morning person but Jumin is worth waking up for. You sometimes don’t get to see him for most of the day so it’s a time you both treasure. But this morning you were beyond exhausted! The alarm went off and you didn’t hear it. Jumin moved to turn off the alarm you didn’t feel it. Jumin couldn’t help but smile as he observed your sleeping frame. Your hair was all over the place, you were slightly curled up in a ball, and he loved hearing your light breathing. He brushed the hair from your face and laid a light kiss on your forehead. You on the other hand were dreaming about the different guests for the upcoming party. It was coming up in a few weeks and it was deeply on your mind. Currently you were dreaming about Jumin talking to the cat pancake company. Your thoughts were all over the place. Jumins so cute. Cat pancakes, he would love that. Pancakes… Pancakes sound good. Maybe I should make pancakes this morning…. I can almost smell it… What time is it? Your eyes flew open as you realize in your half sleepiness that Jumin was no longer by your side. You scan the bed, no Jumin. You then quickly sit up to scan the room, hoping you haven’t missed him. Just then he rounds the corner with a tray in his hands. A very kind loving smile on his face. One that you are sure could cure all illness in this world. “Good morning my love” he says as he walks over to you, “it’s proven, beautiful woman tend to sleep longer ” He then lays down next to and places the tray in front of you. “Pancakes? Haha I was just dreaming about pancakes!” you say excitedly “Pancakes for my beautiful princess” he says with a wink. You couldn’t help but laugh as you remembered your very first breakfast together. You lean into your precious husband and give him a kiss. “You’re amazing Jumin.” “It’s nothing.” You gently touch his face, “no Jumin I really mean it. You are amazing! I am amazed to think such an amazing person could be mine. You are the love of my life!” He chuckles a little bit with a slight blush coming to his cheeks. He wraps his arm around you and pulls your head to lay on his chest, and kisses the top of your head. He whispers into your hair “I love you. You are my world” -You then spend the rest of the morning cuddling and eating pancakes together. Neither one really wanting to leave.

707 Saeyoung (seven) loves sleep! Now that he is done with the spy business, he is catching up on all the hours he has missed. So you are usually the one that is waking him up. But this time you were the exhausted one and slept past him. Seven snuggles up right next to you, “good morning.” “….” You do nothing. He leans over you and begins to nibble on your ear. You push him away, “No longcat! (Fake Snore) saeyoung might get jealous.” He leans over you a nice grin on his face, “fine… Seven zero seven, cat mode activated.” He then starts rubbing his hair and face against yours and begins to “purr” the hair tickling your skin. You can’t help but let out some giggles. You try and escape but he’s got too good of a grip around you. You grab whatever you can (which ends up just being your pillow) and try and block his cat like intrusions. But not to too much luck. He then starts nibbling and licking you wherever he can get to, “pay attention to me, meow.” “Gah!” You scream, now start hitting him with the pillow. This leads to a full out pillow fight war! Eventually you escape and are even throwing things across the room at each other. Saeron bless his heart, just sitting there on the couch watching tv. (He’s used to this kind of thing) Eventually saeyoung is just full on chasing mc across the house. He eventually catches her and pins her to the ground. A triumphant smug expression spreads across his lips. “I got you under me-ow.” He says triumphantly. Saeron calls out from the other room “do you need me to kick him?” You both smile and you say with a laugh and a little out of breath, “thank you saeron, but I think I can handle him.” Saeyoung then leans into you and gives you a passionate kiss. The mans fake purring continues. You eventually bring your hands to his face, “Alright my kitty you win! I’m awake. What do you want to do now?” “Hmm.. ” he says sitting up a little, “I don’t know, I’m kinda tired now. Think I’m gonna go back to bed, meow.” He then quickly kisses you again and then runs away. “Saeron!” You say getting off the ground, “You can kick him now.” Which leads to yet another full on war with the three of you.

Look forward to contributing to the fandom

[dylanissicc]

XPWEW All or Nothing 2019

⚡️XPWEW All or Nothing 2019

Hammerstein Ballroom

New York, NY

July 28th, 2019

Commentary: Joey Styles and Kandi Khaos

Opening Video Package:

Song: Nothing to You by Twiztid

Showcases the feuds of Priscilla, Regina Clausen, Troy Clausen and Audrey Carbine then Slayer vs Moxley then the Case Your Luck match then Edwards vs Awesome

Will Olaffub gets his own entrance to no music and a chorus of cheers which is completely bizarro. But that’s the Hammerstein Ballroom for you!

Eddie Edwards enters first as the challenger to a big reaction. A “Fuck him up Eddie fuck em up *clap clap*” chants that resonates throughout the Ballroom. Edwards salacious smile as he feels he has home turf. Edwards even starts jaw jacking with Casey Alfonso sitting in the front row.

Jake Awesome enters to a mixed reaction. Chants of “Fuck Jake Awesome” clashing with “Awesome Sucks”

Awesome even stops halfway down the aisle way to notice a fan in full on Captain Falcon gear

Quote: Joey Styles “I’ve had the pleasure to call every single Jake Awesome World Title match and tonight something feels at jeopardy”

M1: XPWEW World Heavyweight Title

Sixty Minute Ironman Match

Jake Awesome (c) vs Eddie Edwards

Creative chants throughout this match go:

* Captain Falcon clap clap clap clap

* Fuck him Eddy fuck him up

* Fuck Jake Awesome

* Awesome Sucks

* We Love Olaffub clap clap clap

* Chris Benoit chant

* They start doing Nakamura’s theme song chant for some reason

* Yes there will be beach balls

After 27 minutes of action Awesome gets his Awesome Bomb countered as Edwards absorbs the impact and rolls hum into a crossface and Awesome taps out

Edwards is up 1-0 with 33 minutes to go

About 8 minutes later Awesome connects a big splash for the top and a slow pinfall gets him the 1-2-3

It’s now tied 1-1 with 25 minutes left

19 minutes pass without a fall and Edwards starts to show his desperation and tells Olaffub to hit awesome with a weapon, it’ll get him disqualified and cost him a point but maybe he can catch up and make it even before time expires. Will Olaffub hits Awesome with a steel chair and it doesn’t even phase Awesome and the ref awards a point to Jake for that DQ making it 2-1 Jake up; Casey Alfonso gets fed up with Ollafub’s subtle remarks to him at ringside the whole night and he jumps the rail and tackles Ollafub and starts to wail on him and Jake pulls him off but the ref deducts a point from Jake as a DQ making it 1-1 now after all that about 5 minutes remain. Edwards starts to get some chain Olympic style wrestling on Jake to make the time expire but Jake starts to outwrestle him quite a bit and somehow Edwards locks in the crossface with about 2:35 left. Awesome powers out and lifts up to his feet meanwhile Edwards still has his crossface haphazardly allpied Jake drops him outside onto the thin mat outside the ring. Jake goes to the ropes, Suicide Dive connects and Jake rolls Edwards in the ring Edwards seems done, Jake covers 1-2 KICKOUT! 40 seconds remain and Jake hits a quick awesome bomb and this time that’s enough for the 1-2-3. Jake then dumps Edwards out to the outside of the ring landing on the exposed concrete and Edwards can’t get up as 19 seconds slowly expire. Awesome wins 2-1 and still the XPWEW World Heavyweight Champion

Winner: Jake Awesome 2-1

Awesome celebrates and begins a proper Hey Hey Hey Nah Nah Nah Nah goodbye chant. Edwards scowls at Jake and walks off with the crowd hitting him with that chant. The crowd play made this seemingly long match a lot more enjoyable. Well paced

Promo: Heatwave 2019 commercial

Song: Born to raise Hell by Crazy Town

Charlotte North Carolina

Sunday August 18th, 2019

Doxy Deity and Toni Storm enter followed by Amy Lee then Kiera Hogan with Rosemary. Enter Genevalisse who enters the ring to big fanfare now makes her debut! Based Fabian even introduces her himself

M2: 6 Woman Tag Elimination Match

Amy Lee, Rosemary & Kiera Hogan

vs

Doxy Deity, Toni Storm & Genevalisse

* Doxy, Toni and Genevalisse triple pin Amy Lee

* Rosemary eliminates Toni Storm

* Kiera Hogan rolls up Doxy Deity (her first pinfall victory in XPWEW finally)

* Genevalisse superkicks Rosemary and pins her

Now it’s down to Kiera Hogan and her long time Major League Wrestling rival opponent formerly known as Ivelisse going at it 1 on 1

* Genevalisse defeats Kiera and wins it for her team

Genevalisse, Toni and Doxy defeat Amy, Rosemary and Kiera Hogan. Kiera Hogan’s losing skid is over her and Rosemary jump for joy and even Based Fabian with his Juniorweight title comes out and puts it around the waist of Genevalisse congratulating her on her debut victory

Nick Simmonds Interviews the All Man; All Man asks where the fuck is Dr. Cube he’s running around in the shadow realm with the XPWEW No Limits Title But who cares I’m focused on tonight. My night. My show. Do you like the stage setup? I have a chance tonight. A chance albeit a chance split up between 8 people so that gives me realistically what a 12 and a half percent chance of victory tonight? Those odds aren’t great but I always have a plan A, Plan B even C.

Best 2 out of 3 Falls

M3: Champagne Clausen defeats GG with no help from the Freight Train which was a huge criticism from General Manager Romeo Roselli. Curt wins both falls in the contest 2-0 over GG! Curt Clausen is now 6-0! Troy Clausen comes in the ring and even says 6-0! 6-0! 6-0! Freight Train comes out and nervously asks for the mic, Troy graciously gives him the mic, sure Freight Train you are apart of the family. What did you want to say? Freight Train: since,,since he won the match two times I think that makes him Seven and Zero! Troy laughs! Yes! Yes! Yes! Seven and O!!!!!

Post Match Interview Champagne Clausen pops a bottle of Champagne and says his little sister Regina Clausen is going to become the women’s champ tonight!

M4: Chris Johnson defeats Dragon Kid and he’s now the #1 contender for the XPWEW Juniorweight Title (current champion Based Fabian)

Interview: Nick Simmonds is joined by Slayer. Slayer says this match is over a decade in the making. I’ve been wanting to see the myth that is John Moxley in that ring for so long. I knew one day he was gonna be in my ring. Now I’m gonna make him tap. And I will walk out of the Hammerstein Ballroom this infamous and beautiful venue with the IWGP United States Title in my hands

M5: XPWEW Tag Team Championships

Ruckus & Lexoni defeat Vinny Testaverde & Rondo in a bloodbath. Easily one of the best matches for Free Agency as a team.

nZo blood smeared in his face tried to talk but this Hammerstein Ballroom crowd can’t let him get a word in without some creative chants; “you may have won the battle but you smucks have not won the war”. Ruckus and Lexoni laugh it off holding their titles in the air!

M6: XPWEW World Women’s Championship

3 Way Dance

Priscilla Kelly retains the title defeating Regina Clausen and Audrey Carbine

Closing sequence Priscilla Kelly puts her tampon in Regina’s mouth causing Regina to forfeit. Curt Clausen tries to interfere and Audrey applies the art of ballistics on him and while she’s got the armbar applies Priscilla comes off the top rope with a steel chair straight to the face. Stuns her! Priscilla pins Audrey 1-2-3 for the win! The crowd goes insane! Priscilla is really over here!

Backstage: Troy Clausen is banging on the door of General Manager Romeo Roselli! Where in the god damn articles of confederation does it say anywhere that a medical, rag, sheep wool, sanitary Tampax pad can be used as a weapon. I know the books in here this used to be my filing cabinet you know that, and you probably moved all my shit around. Romeo listen Troy, were XPWEW. Fans can bring the weapons here ok there are no rules. A tampon while albeit disgusting and disturbingly unique is all fair. Troy: Oh fair? You know what’s not fair. This crowd. This sea of human waste throwing their garbage at my son and daughter. Think about that Romeo, human garbage flushing garbage at athletic royalty because of what? Jealousy. Is that fair? Is it fair that a jagaloon like Audrey Carbine thinks it’s fair to attack my son, who wasn’t even involved in the match. I’m sick of it. My daughter probably has HIV. And we’re gonna get here tested. Better than that we’re gonna test. Priscilla Kelly. And knowing your lifestyle Romeo you should consider a check up yourself. I’ll be back on Friday with a test and we’re gonna make some changes around here.

M7: Unsanctioned Match

IWGP United States Championship

Slayer vs Jon Moxley

Closing sequence: Jon Moxley has concocted this board taped with thornbushes and Mox Drops Slayer onto it from atop the ladder for the 1-2- kickout Slayer applies the helmed sharpshooter from the dead essentially and Moxley taps out

AND NEWWWWWWWW IWGP UNITED STATES CHAMPION THE DRAGONSLAYER. Moxley picks him up after and they both praise the audience!

M8: Case Your Luck Ladder Match

Golden Bryce vs Leonard McGraw vs Brodie Croyle vs 3M Ultra vs All Man vs Joe Gacy vs Based Fabian vs Jaques Dudley

Best High spots: Leonard McGraw lariat mid air off one ladder to a hanging 3M Ultra

Jaques and 3M hit side by side 630 splash off ladders onto Croyle and Joe Gacy But they both move out the way

Jocelyn Washington jumps the rail and tries to wake up Golden Bryce and Brodie Croyle grabs her and hits her with the Silent Echo and crowd pops huge. Croyle scales the ladder, Leonard McGraw tips the ladder slowly backward and Croyle does a sick no look bump falling onto A table. Unbelievable spot!!!! Leonard McGraw goes to climb the ladder (Dragon Kid and Ms. Ryu cheering him on, he hesitates to climb and Dragon Kid gives him the mask and he puts it on but that might of spent too much time because when he grabs the case up top he’s hit by some powder - like substance by this bust blonde woman wearing a milk man? I guess milk woman suit. The powder was a little distracting but then she pulls a flourscent light tube out of a belt holster and nails McGraw across the back. McGraw drops like a sack of potatoes and All Man in a raven taunt slump in the corner gets lifted up by this female and hoists him on the ladder, All Man regains consciousness enough to speed up the ladder and he unlocks the hook and wins the case Your Luck Ladder match! All Man is Mr. Case Your Luck

Winner: All Man thanks to a busty blonde female in a milk woman outfit. Who turns out to be Emma from WWE under a new name

After the match: Crowd is boo-ing throwing garbage and trash and this female grabs the mic and excitedly announces herself as Emma, Tenille Dashwood she is the ALL WOMAN!!

All Man and All Woman Walk up the ramp with smiles on their faces and they look at the entrance setup with basically a tribute to the All Man and they give each other this look and go to the right side and pull down a curtain to reveal a giant poster of All Woman as well. Great moment. What a debut. Show Ends

[andrewdburton]

Depression and me

For much of the past two weeks, I've been wrestling with my mental health. I could sense a crisis coming, so I scheduled some time away. I didn't want to have to be worrying about blog posts while I was worrying about everything else. Thus, my “summer vacation”.

Long-time readers are aware that I've struggled with depression for most of my life.

In sixth grade, I missed five weeks of school with what my father called “parrot fever”. (We had parrots, and he attributed my issues to a parrot allergy.) After our family physician could find nothing wrong with me, Dad took me to his therapist. Hushed conversations followed the appointment. The verdict: I was dealing with depression.

In junior high, I was briefly suicidal but made a deliberate decision to turn things around. In high school and college, the depression was always there, looming in the shadows. As a young adult, it mostly went away…but then it came back as I got older.

In 1999, when I was thirty, I experienced something new: anxiety. At one point, I thought I was having a heart attack. Nope. It was a panic attack. When the second panic attack came a few weeks later, I knew it wasn't my heart. It was me stressing about life.

Interesting note: It was after the second panic attack that my doctor strongly encouraged me to start drinking red wine. For real. Before that, I was a teetotaler.

During my divorce in 2011-12, Kris asked me a favor. “Please see a counselor,” she said. I did, and it helped. My therapist gave me advice for coping with depression and anxiety, plus she diagnosed me with ADD. For a few years, I was able to manage my symptoms.

Last year, though, things got bad. March and April and May were a struggle. In June, I published an article here about my ongoing battle with depression. During the summer, my mental health improved, however, and I forgot about how hard the spring had been.

A Sneaky Little, Sticky Bitch

In February of this year, my anxiety returned. The depression followed soon after. When my heart-attack scare in mid-March turned up no physical issues (other than high blood pressure), my doctor suggested that the problem was anxiety. She asked me to start seeing a therapist again. So, I did.

Since early May, I've been attending talk therapy once a week. We're exploring why I feel so anxious, and how using alcohol to cope with anxiety is a “maladaptive behavior”. We're exploring other ways to make things work.

The trouble? When I don't drink in the afternoon, I get more anxious.

The frustrating thing is that the depression and anxiety lead me to act like a completely different person.

For instance, I love people. I love spending time with people. Social interaction energizes me. Right now, though? I hate it. I don't want to deal with anyone in any capacity. I don't want to spend time with friends. I don't want to be in crowds. (I make an exception for Portland Timbers games.) I don't even want to go to the grocery store.

Here are some ways this manifests itself:

Today, I had a lunch appointment with a colleague and friend. Karl is a great guy and I enjoy spending time with him. Normally. Today, though, all I could think about were the reasons I might be able to cancel.

Yesterday, I taped a TV interview with a local station. I wanted to cancel that too. Afterward, I ought to have driven out to the family box factory. But I didn't. I didn't want to spend time with my brother and cousin.

This Sunday evening, there's another Portland Timbers game. Kim can't go with me, so I need to find somebody else to join me. I have zero desire to do so. I may end up selling the tickets and skipping the game because of my anxiety.

My medical doctor has prescribed propranolol to simultaneously deal with my high blood pressure and my anxiety. While it seems to be helping the former, it's not helping the latter. (According to wikipedia, it's really only useful for performance anxiety.)

Meanwhile, the depression is even worse. If you look at the symptoms of depression, I'm exhibiting every single one. Some of my symptoms are severe.

Fatigue? Have it.

Insomnia? You bet.

Feelings of guilt and worthlessness? Oh boy.

Irritability? Yes, and it's so not me. I'm not an irritable guy — but I am lately.

Loss of interest in things once pleasurable? Absolutely, and it's SO FRUSTRATING. Nothing appeals to me. I'm numb.

Trouble concentrating, remembering details, and making decisions? You have no idea. Everything is a chore.

The latter is especially difficult to deal with. When Karl asked where to meet for lunch today, I couldn't decide. Why not? That's so simple! Last night, Kim wanted me to make dinner. But I didn't because I couldn't decide what to fix. That's ridiculous!

A Horrible, Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

In fact, yesterday was miserable. It might have been the worst day of my entire life.

My head was a mess of negative thoughts and emotions, all of them swirling and swirling and swirling in a never-ending dark cloud of despair. I couldn't focus on anything. I did tape the TV interview (the first segment went very well, but the second bordered on incoherent) but that's the only productive thing I did all day.

On the drive home, I bought — and then consumed — a big bowl of clam chowder, a big bag of potato chips, and an entire package of chocolate chip cookies. Then I sat in the hot tub and played a videogame for five hours. (At least I didn't drink alcohol!)

When Kim came home, she asked, “What's for dinner?” I admitted that I hadn't made dinner — but I didn't tell her how messed up my head had been all day. (She knows I'm struggling but she doesn't know how badly.) While she changed out of her scrubs, I fried some frozen potstickers.

Naturally, all of this makes me feel even more guilty and worthless and depressed. It's a vicious cycle.

I'm sure you can see how this would translate in an inability to get work done, both here at Get Rich Slowly and in my real life.

It's a problem.

What's the solution to the problem? I'm not sure. There must be one. But I don't know what it is. Drink every afternoon? That's what I've been doing, and it works. But, as my therapist says, it's a maladaptive behavior. I think we all know where that road leads.

My therapist is patient. She keeps giving me homework assignments…and I keep avoiding them. Exercise! Meditate! Set goals! These all sound awesome. They're all things I know I like to do. But they also sound like tremendous effort, so I don't do them.

Bringing Gratitude

Instead of canceling my lunch appointment with Karl today, I went. I'm glad I did.

I've known Karl for almost a decade. He's one of the most uplifting, supportive people I've ever met. I love that his work is centered on positivity. He runs a site called Bring Gratitude and he published a book by the same name. (Six months ago, he shared a guest article here at Get Rich Slowly about practicing gratitude with a daily journal.)

As we sat down for lunch, I told Karl point blank about the issues I'm going through.

“I can totally relate,” he said, and he shared some of his own past struggles.

“You know,” I said, “my therapist has been urging me to try meditation. But I don't know how to start.”

Karl nodded. “I meditate. I meditated just this morning. But it can be tough to get going. You have so many thoughts racing through your head. Here's one thing that might work, though. Give yourself one minute. Only a minute. For that minute, meditate on all of the things that you're thankful for.”

“I like that idea,” I said. “I like it a lot. Normally, I'm a grateful guy. I'm a lucky man, and I know it. Usually. Lately, though, I've forgotten how awesome life is. Meditating on the things I'm grateful for would be a great way to remind me of what I've got.”

Thank You

On my drive home, I put Karl's idea into practice. I took back roads. As I drove slowly through the countryside, I thought about all of the things that I'm thankful for.

I'm thankful for Kim. She's a not just a wonderful partner in life, but she's a wonderful person. She's a good soul.

I'm thankful for my dog. Tahlequah is a handful (a pawful?), and I do get frustrated with her. But I'm also grateful to have such an enthusiastic hound dog in my life.

I'm thankful for my health. I haven't taken care of myself much lately, but that's on me. Generally speaking, my body is in fine shape. And with a little work, it could be in great shape once again.

I'm grateful for music. I don't mention it much, but music brings great joy to my life. I love music of all sorts. Taylor Swift, yes, but also U2 and Mozart and Styx and ABBA and Public Enemy.

I'm thankful for Portland. I love the green of it. I love its quirky die-hard (sometimes absurd) liberalism. I love the food scene and the Timbers and the passion for books. Speaking of which…

I'm grateful for words. Books bring me joy. So does writing. I've managed to make a living from my words, and I hope to continue doing so in the future.

I'm grateful for life.

Here at home, I had a call with my business partner, Tom. We spent two hours talking about behind-the-scenes details here at Get Rich Slowly. We made plans for the future. But we also took a lot of time to talk about nothing.

It was awesome. It was just what I needed.

When I got off the call, the dog wanted to play. She looked up with puppy-dog eyes and made her little whine that means, “Dad, throw the ball for me.” We went outside into the sunshine and I threw the ball for her. Then, I got down on my knees and wrestled with her. She loves when I wrestle with her.

“I really do have a good life,” I thought after the dog and I were done chomping on each other. I went into the kitchen to put away the clean dishes. “I'm thankful for all of it.”

You know what? I'm thankful for Get Rich Slowly too. And for you, the readers. This site has been a huge blessing in my life — and I'm not one to talk much about blessings. I've put a lot into GRS, it's true, but I've gotten so much more out of it. I've gotten so much from you folks.

So, thank you. I mean it. Thank you for reading. Thank you for contributing. Thank you for everything.

Few and Far Between

As Karl and I chatted at lunch today, I caught a Natalie Merchant song playing on the restaurant's radio. At first I thought it was “Wonder”, but then I recognized it as “Few and Far Between”.

“How fitting,” I thought. Some of the lyrics:

“‘Til you make your peace with yesterday, you'll never build a future. I swear by what I say: Whatever penance you do, decide what it's worth to you, and then respect it. However long it will take to weather your mistakes? Why not accept it?”

So, that's what has been going on in my life lately. It's been a struggle. But I can see a light at the end of the tunnel. And I can see some money articles at the end of the keyboard. (Thank goodness, right?)

What's been going on with you?

The post Depression and me appeared first on Get Rich Slowly.

from Finance https://www.getrichslowly.org/depression-and-me/ via http://www.rssmix.com/

[purpleflamingosarelife]

Black is the New Sin (Pt. 2)

**Just a few warnings: **This part is quite heavy and emotional. There are mentions of sexual abuse, violence and abuse to minors. I don’t think anyone will ever read this, but in case someone does, just know that there probably will be more parts like this and that I literally know nothing about the law or police work at all so bear with me on that. Thank you for reading and enjoy!

Shane

I opened my eyes. The first thing that I saw was a Rosie the Riveter poster that said, ‘we can do it!’ in thick, white letters. It kept me inspired and optimistic because, quite frankly, being a cop could be depressing sometimes. At least for me. I always had to wonder what was going on in some peoples’ lives that they would stoop to this level.

Sitting up, I checked my phone. There were no notifications, really. Nothing but IFunny and this one other game that I had. Sadly, there were no notifications from Zing.com.

That meant that there had been zero women that had liked my profile. 

Jesus, what was it? Was it because I was a cop and they thought I was hard and rude, maybe too serious? Was it... Was it because my hair was red? 

I decided to push that aside. It didn’t matter right now. 

After a quick shower and shave, I polished my boots and cleaned my gun. I took joy in maintaining my uniform because that meant that I could take pride in the aura of professionalism that leaked from the outskirts of the blast radius of my good looks. 

My second alarm went off, triggering me to holster my gun and hop up. I put my uniform on, then gelled up my hair and combed it into the perfect pompadour, or my everyday look. 

“Frankie!” I shouted playfully. Almost immediately, tiny paws began pattering throughout the apartment, eventually finding their way to  my bathroom door. I looked down to see the little black and white Boston terrier looking up at me expectantly. I gasped excitedly and knelt down.

“Oh, Mr. Sinatra, how are you this morning?” He started panting happily. 

Another alarm went off on my phone. Time to leave. 

On my way out the door, I dropped a cup of food in Frankie’s bowl. He immediately began chomping away at his bowl. 

“Good boy,” I whispered as I shut the door. I speed walked down to the parking garage and unlocked my 2010 SS Camaro from across the garage, checking the time as I did so. 

It was only 7:00. I had time to drop by the coffee shop and grab some bagels and coffees. I even knew what Finn would want. 

--

The coffee shop was nearly dead, so I strolled in and ordered two glazed donuts and two simple espressos. 

“We’ll have that right out to you, sir,” the barista behind the counter politely stated. I nodded with a small smile as I walked over to a table to have a seat. 

My phone dinged. I pulled it out of my pocket and looked at the screen, where a little gray bubble with text inside it floated just below the stated time. 

Message from: Finn Dahlgren

Finn: Mornin’, sunshine. Where you at?

I smiled to the screen as I scanned my thumb on the home button.

Shane: Getting some food at the coffee shop, I replied. A few seconds later, the little bubble to signal that he was typing popped up.

Finn: Oh. See anyone cute?

Shane: No. There ain’t anyone here.

Finn: So there’s no barista making your coffee?

Shane: Yes, there’s a barista.

Finn: Which one is it?

Shane: The cute one with coppery-blonde hair.

Finn: So there are some cute girls there.

Shane: No, I don’t want to bother her. Who she is is none of my business.

Finn: Just go for it. See you at work. 

I put my phone back in my pocket as the barista walked out with two cups and a small paper bag. I stood to meet her at the counter with my wallet at the ready. 

“Alright, Sir,” she shyly said. I leaned on the counter just a bit, trying to make it apparent that I wasn’t going to be a jerk or be too weird. Her shyness was understandable. I was a decently tall and muscular guy, and on top of that, I was wearing a police uniform. I looked a bit scary to some people. This barista, this girl, was on the shorter side and had a thin structure. In comparison to her, I was pretty much a gorilla. 

“That’ll be twenty-one, ninety-five,” she continued, looking up at me with crystal blue eyes. “Is that all you’ll need today?” I shook my head gently.

“No, miss, that’ll be all. I’d just like you to know that you’re very polite and professional. So, thank you for being such an awesome human being.”  She blushed a little and counted my cash before picking me out a nickel for change. 

“Well thank you, Officer, for protecting the city.” She handed me the small coin and, for the smallest second, our hands touched and our eyes lingered on each other. 

She smiled, pulling her hand away. Her cheeks were rather red. 

“Enjoy, Sir.”

“Have a lovely day.” 

With that, I turned on my heel and walked out the door. 

-- 

I dramatically burst through the doors of the Officers’ Lounge, striding over to a chair and jumping up onto it.

“Well look at that, Cowboy Harris,” Finn the Wisecrack shouted from the corner of the room, sauntering over to meet me. I handed him his coffee and held the bag out in my left hand, doing a weird surfer pose on my toes. I’d thrown my sunglasses on before I entered the room for dramatic effect. 

“The one and only,” I playfully answered before hopping off the chair and removing my glasses. 

“Yeah, you’re a real rock star,” Officer Jansen called from across the room. Rodriguez laughed and high-fived him. 

I made a dramatic, snobby face. “You’re just jealous that you’re not as fabulous as I am.” Everyone laughed. My watch beeped, signalling that it was time for work to start. I continued. “That makes eight, everyone! Get to work!” 

Finn and I, already knowing our assignment, headed out to the parking lot to where our squad car was. It was one of the relatively newer, nicer ones that the police department had purchased-- a Dodge Charger. 

“Well look at you, Dahlgren,” I teased. “Growing some facial hair.” I reached over to run my fingers on his rough stubble. He pulled away, irritated.

“Hey, I’m fuckin’ driving here, dumb ass,” he whined. I was about to reply something smart when the familiar ding of a notification sounded from my phone. I pulled it out to look at the screen.

“Who’s that? Your imaginary girlfriend?” He stabbed jokingly. I smirked as I momentarily diverted my eyes from the screen.

“No, it’s your little sister. She wants to know when I’m gonna lay down the pipe again,” I joked back as I read the notification. As soon as my eyes met the text, A rush of excitement shot through my body. 

It was from Zing.Com. 

Eden Halifax clicked ‘like’ on your profile!

Despite my excitement, I put my phone away, as we were almost to our call. I had to begin mentally preparing myself for this one. 

A man-- the victim’s uncle, to be exact-- had been sneaking into said victim’s house while the parents were away and doing... God, I was sick thinking about it. 

It brought back bad memories.

It was the reason that I even became a cop in the first place. 

Anyways, long story short, he’d been caught red handed via a hidden nanny cam within the house. Her dad was on his way home from work, but sadly enough for this creep, we’d arrived first.

“Shane, we’re here. We need to hurry.” I violently opened the door and did a hood slide, sprinting toward the house and bursting through the door long before Finn had even made it across the street. 

“Police!” I screamed as I ran past the living room. With every step I took, I became even more sickened and angry. 

They were in the main floor’s office, as I’d learned from the operator. I put my ear to the door to listen to the commotion for a second.

“I’m not letting you hurt me and make me feel worthless anymore!” A female voice screamed. This was followed by a thud and a grunt of pain.

“Ah! You little bitch! C’mere!” There were more screams.

I didn’t even check if the door was locked, and I didn’t even care where Dahlgren was. I was pissed. 

“Get on the ground!” I shouted after I kicked the door down. He was advancing on her angrily. She was seemingly alright, as she had apparently fighting him off. He was only more angry, aggressive, and determined to bring harm to that girl. He didn’t even seem to notice me.

I watched him raise his hand before I sprung on him and pinned him against the wall.

“You’re under arrest,” I growled into his ear as I attempted to handcuff him. He headbutted me and attempted to wrestle away from me. This resulted in me slamming him onto the floor roughly and digging my knee into his lower back. 

At this moment, Finn decided to run in and assist me in the arrest. Once he was cuffed, I told him to take care of the girl. As they exited the room, I rolled the suspect onto his back.

“Hey, I didn’t do a fuckin’ thing, man,” he spat.

“Bullshit,” I shouted. “That’s your fuckin’ niece! Your niece! And you’re in here doing bad stuff to her, hurting her?! You wanna know how she feels when you do that shit to her? You wanna know how she feels when her peers bully her about being a slut because you can’t fucking control yourself?!” I continued shouting as I stepped off of him, going to get another officer to come in here. Just before I exited the room, I turned around and shot my finger at him accusingly.

“You’re fucking sick, and you’re going to jail.” I said in a quieter manner. My voice quivered angrily. I stormed out of the room, out of the house. I stormed right up to Officer Dan Cruz and ran my fingers through my hair. 

“You need to go deal with that son of a bitch before I get mad and do something bad,” I commanded before walking back into the house and up to Finn and the girl. She was in tears and Finn was just standing there, not really knowing what to do. He was never good with emotions, or kids. 

I nodded at him to step away and knelt down to meet her shaking frame’s position in the corner. She looked up at me. I was pretty sure I was crying, too, because cases like these were always the closest to home. 

She jumped into my arms, and I held her, comforted her, while we both wept. 

“Everything’s gonna be alright,” I managed to say through my tears. “He ain’t gonna hurt you anymore.” 

I almost forgot about the special someone who’d liked my profile. 

[andrewdburton]

Depression and me

For much of the past two weeks, I've been wrestling with my mental health. I could sense a crisis coming, so I scheduled some time away. I didn't want to have to be worrying about blog posts while I was worrying about everything else. Thus, my “summer vacation”.

Long-time readers are aware that I've struggled with depression for most of my life.

In sixth grade, I missed five weeks of school with what my father called “parrot fever”. (We had parrots, and he attributed my issues to a parrot allergy.) After our family physician could find nothing wrong with me, Dad took me to his therapist. Hushed conversations followed the appointment. The verdict: I was dealing with depression.

In junior high, I was briefly suicidal but made a deliberate decision to turn things around. In high school and college, the depression was always there, looming in the shadows. As a young adult, it mostly went away…but then it came back as I got older.

In 1999, when I was thirty, I experienced something new: anxiety. At one point, I thought I was having a heart attack. Nope. It was a panic attack. When the second panic attack came a few weeks later, I knew it wasn't my heart. It was me stressing about life.

Interesting note: It was after the second panic attack that my doctor strongly encouraged me to start drinking red wine. For real. Before that, I was a teetotaler.

During my divorce in 2011-12, Kris asked me a favor. “Please see a counselor,” she said. I did, and it helped. My therapist gave me advice for coping with depression and anxiety, plus she diagnosed me with ADD. For a few years, I was able to manage my symptoms.

Last year, though, things got bad. March and April and May were a struggle. In June, I published an article here about my ongoing battle with depression. During the summer, my mental health improved, however, and I forgot about how hard the spring had been.

A Sneaky Little, Sticky Bitch

In February of this year, my anxiety returned. The depression followed soon after. When my heart-attack scare in mid-March turned up no physical issues (other than high blood pressure), my doctor suggested that the problem was anxiety. She asked me to start seeing a therapist again. So, I did.

Since early May, I've been attending talk therapy once a week. We're exploring why I feel so anxious, and how using alcohol to cope with anxiety is a “maladaptive behavior”. We're exploring other ways to make things work.

The trouble? When I don't drink in the afternoon, I get more anxious.

The frustrating thing is that the depression and anxiety lead me to act like a completely different person.

For instance, I love people. I love spending time with people. Social interaction energizes me. Right now, though? I hate it. I don't want to deal with anyone in any capacity. I don't want to spend time with friends. I don't want to be in crowds. (I make an exception for Portland Timbers games.) I don't even want to go to the grocery store.

Here are some ways this manifests itself:

Today, I had a lunch appointment with a colleague and friend. Karl is a great guy and I enjoy spending time with him. Normally. Today, though, all I could think about were the reasons I might be able to cancel.

Yesterday, I taped a TV interview with a local station. I wanted to cancel that too. Afterward, I ought to have driven out to the family box factory. But I didn't. I didn't want to spend time with my brother and cousin.

This Sunday evening, there's another Portland Timbers game. Kim can't go with me, so I need to find somebody else to join me. I have zero desire to do so. I may end up selling the tickets and skipping the game because of my anxiety.

My medical doctor has prescribed propranolol to simultaneously deal with my high blood pressure and my anxiety. While it seems to be helping the former, it's not helping the latter. (According to wikipedia, it's really only useful for performance anxiety.)

Meanwhile, the depression is even worse. If you look at the symptoms of depression, I'm exhibiting every single one. Some of my symptoms are severe.

Fatigue? Have it.

Insomnia? You bet.

Feelings of guilt and worthlessness? Oh boy.

Irritability? Yes, and it's so not me. I'm not an irritable guy — but I am lately.

Loss of interest in things once pleasurable? Absolutely, and it's SO FRUSTRATING. Nothing appeals to me. I'm numb.

Trouble concentrating, remembering details, and making decisions? You have no idea. Everything is a chore.

The latter is especially difficult to deal with. When Karl asked where to meet for lunch today, I couldn't decide. Why not? That's so simple! Last night, Kim wanted me to make dinner. But I didn't because I couldn't decide what to fix. That's ridiculous!

A Horrible, Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

In fact, yesterday was miserable. It might have been the worst day of my entire life.

My head was a mess of negative thoughts and emotions, all of them swirling and swirling and swirling in a never-ending dark cloud of despair. I couldn't focus on anything. I did tape the TV interview (the first segment went very well, but the second bordered on incoherent) but that's the only productive thing I did all day.

On the drive home, I bought — and then consumed — a big bowl of clam chowder, a big bag of potato chips, and an entire package of chocolate chip cookies. Then I sat in the hot tub and played a videogame for five hours. (At least I didn't drink alcohol!)

When Kim came home, she asked, “What's for dinner?” I admitted that I hadn't made dinner — but I didn't tell her how messed up my head had been all day. (She knows I'm struggling but she doesn't know how badly.) While she changed out of her scrubs, I fried some frozen potstickers.

Naturally, all of this makes me feel even more guilty and worthless and depressed. It's a vicious cycle.

I'm sure you can see how this would translate in an inability to get work done, both here at Get Rich Slowly and in my real life.

It's a problem.

What's the solution to the problem? I'm not sure. There must be one. But I don't know what it is. Drink every afternoon? That's what I've been doing, and it works. But, as my therapist says, it's a maladaptive behavior. I think we all know where that road leads.

My therapist is patient. She keeps giving me homework assignments…and I keep avoiding them. Exercise! Meditate! Set goals! These all sound awesome. They're all things I know I like to do. But they also sound like tremendous effort, so I don't do them.

Bringing Gratitude

Instead of canceling my lunch appointment with Karl today, I went. I'm glad I did.

I've known Karl for almost a decade. He's one of the most uplifting, supportive people I've ever met. I love that his work is centered on positivity. He runs a site called Bring Gratitude and he published a book by the same name. (Six months ago, he shared a guest article here at Get Rich Slowly about practicing gratitude with a daily journal.)

As we sat down for lunch, I told Karl point blank about the issues I'm going through.

“I can totally relate,” he said, and he shared some of his own past struggles.

“You know,” I said, “my therapist has been urging me to try meditation. But I don't know how to start.”

Karl nodded. “I meditate. I meditated just this morning. But it can be tough to get going. You have so many thoughts racing through your head. Here's one thing that might work, though. Give yourself one minute. Only a minute. For that minute, meditate on all of the things that you're thankful for.”

“I like that idea,” I said. “I like it a lot. Normally, I'm a grateful guy. I'm a lucky man, and I know it. Usually. Lately, though, I've forgotten how awesome life is. Meditating on the things I'm grateful for would be a great way to remind me of what I've got.”

Thank You

On my drive home, I put Karl's idea into practice. I took back roads. As I drove slowly through the countryside, I thought about all of the things that I'm thankful for.

I'm thankful for Kim. She's a not just a wonderful partner in life, but she's a wonderful person. She's a good soul.

I'm thankful for my dog. Tahlequah is a handful (a pawful?), and I do get frustrated with her. But I'm also grateful to have such an enthusiastic hound dog in my life.

I'm thankful for my health. I haven't taken care of myself much lately, but that's on me. Generally speaking, my body is in fine shape. And with a little work, it could be in great shape once again.

I'm grateful for music. I don't mention it much, but music brings great joy to my life. I love music of all sorts. Taylor Swift, yes, but also U2 and Mozart and Styx and ABBA and Public Enemy.

I'm thankful for Portland. I love the green of it. I love its quirky die-hard (sometimes absurd) liberalism. I love the food scene and the Timbers and the passion for books. Speaking of which…

I'm grateful for words. Books bring me joy. So does writing. I've managed to make a living from my words, and I hope to continue doing so in the future.

I'm grateful for life.

Here at home, I had a call with my business partner, Tom. We spent two hours talking about behind-the-scenes details here at Get Rich Slowly. We made plans for the future. But we also took a lot of time to talk about nothing.

It was awesome. It was just what I needed.

When I got off the call, the dog wanted to play. She looked up with puppy-dog eyes and made her little whine that means, “Dad, throw the ball for me.” We went outside into the sunshine and I threw the ball for her. Then, I got down on my knees and wrestled with her. She loves when I wrestle with her.

“I really do have a good life,” I thought after the dog and I were done chomping on each other. I went into the kitchen to put away the clean dishes. “I'm thankful for all of it.”

You know what? I'm thankful for Get Rich Slowly too. And for you, the readers. This site has been a huge blessing in my life — and I'm not one to talk much about blessings. I've put a lot into GRS, it's true, but I've gotten so much more out of it. I've gotten so much from you folks.

So, thank you. I mean it. Thank you for reading. Thank you for contributing. Thank you for everything.

Few and Far Between

As Karl and I chatted at lunch today, I caught a Natalie Merchant song playing on the restaurant's radio. At first I thought it was “Wonder”, but then I recognized it as “Few and Far Between”.

“How fitting,” I thought. Some of the lyrics:

“‘Til you make your peace with yesterday, you'll never build a future. I swear by what I say: Whatever penance you do, decide what it's worth to you, and then respect it. However long it will take to weather your mistakes? Why not accept it?”

So, that's what has been going on in my life lately. It's been a struggle. But I can see a light at the end of the tunnel. And I can see some money articles at the end of the keyboard. (Thank goodness, right?)

What's been going on with you?

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