#me putting my law firm experience into oliver is always fun

[skittidyne]

oliver meeting a new friend(?)

here is a NON deleted scene from how to 2! oliver is running late for dinner plans and encounters a strange would-be client...

Oliver is running later than he likes due to that stupid med-mal deposition running long. The delivery person already texted him—twice, the second letting him know that they were dropping it off at the front desk—and reception had called up to his floor just as he grabbed his jacket and bolted for the stairs. 

He’s out of breath by the time he hits the ground floor, but it’s good cardio, and he’s been sitting all day. He’s not built for the sedentary lifestyle. Alright, with video conferencing taking off now that most old guys halfway understand how to work a computer, there will be plenty of sitting in his lawyerly future, but Legally Blonde had told him there’d also be a lot of standing and pacing and pointing in dramatic trials, too. He has to get out of internship hell and into actual associate territory first, and he realistically knows that he has a way to go before being trial attorney for anything, but it’s still on his Dreams Of A Better Future list. (The one picked out by his mother, at any rate.) 

Oliver rushes to the front desk; he’s late enough that the second shift receptionist has taken over, and he normally doesn’t deal with her, so he stalls on her name. 

There’s a short woman ahead of him in conversation order, tapping her nails on the polished marble desk, giving him time to remember the common courtesy of his coworker’s name. Nevermind that it’s a stupid huge firm and most attorneys put their noses up at support staff. Oliver isn’t gonna be that guy. 

“I don’t want to go to the police or Peoples Law Firm, as I told you,” the short woman nearly growls, shoulders hunching up around her ears. She’s in a bulky, beige coat and a knitted beanie covers most of her hair, but from what he can see, it’s dyed strangely. Sort of streaked, but sort of like patches of color. Must have been hell at the salon. 

“Ma’am, I am not sure where to refer you to a consultation if you cannot give me more details of what you’re asking,” the poor receptionist replies. Her eyes flick up to Oliver beseechingly. 

He may not remember her name, maybe it starts with an I or something, but he cannot ignore a cry for help when he sees one. “Excuse me, miss, is there anything I can help with? I’m an attorney here,” Oliver smoothly interrupts. 

The short woman—she hardly reaches his bicep, woah—turns and looks up at him with the prettiest hazel eyes he’s ever seen. They’re huge, almond-shaped, and practically gold. Her face is round, nose cute and snub, skin flawless and not giving any clue as to her age. 

And she clearly has no fucking clue why she’s here, because she doesn’t ask what department he’s from or what sort of lawyer he is, and instead imperiously demands, “I need help finding someone who does not have current legal records to track.” 

Oliver and the receptionist exchange a look. He hides his bewilderment as best he can. “Well, uh, okay. That sort of sounds more like a job for the police.” 

“I don’t want to involve the police, or the Peoples Law Firm,” the woman maintains. 

Oliver has no clue why she insists on that second part. It’s a big firm in the city, bigger even than theirs, but does a lot more weird shit like what she’s suggesting. Would their lawyers help find a missing person? Hell, they probably would. 

But not here. 

“Let me get your name and number, and I’ll pass it along to the para who handles incoming cases. He can give you more information when he gives you a call back,” Oliver lies. He will take her name and number, and might even toss it to the paralegal pool in case someone wants to bark up this tree, but he honestly cannot fathom why she would come to a law firm for a missing person. 

With no current legal records? What an odd addition. If nothing else, it’s gossip fodder. 

The woman stands on the tips of her toes to reach for the notepad and pen the receptionist slides over. Then, she hesitates. 

“I need information, not a call back,” she says. 

“Unfortunately, neither of us can give you in-depth information about a prospective case—your best bet would be to leave your information and have another of our staff contact you,” the receptionist hastens to say. 

“I don’t have a working phone number,” the short woman primly replies. 

Oliver’s turn to give the poor receptionist a beseeching look; a ghost of a frown passes over her Customer Service expression, and she rolls her chair to the side far side of her pen to retrieve a huge plastic tote stuffed full with brown paper food bags. “This delivery arrived for you earlier,” she says like she doesn’t know that’s the only reason he’s bothering them both. 

Oliver’s stomach growls as he takes the food. He’d ordered a ton because Isaac had finally given in and agreed to a night in to watch Black Butler with Sam. It’s the perfect opportunity, plus a fun plan, except he’s already running an hour late. The smell of spices makes his eyes water in the best way; he likes spicy Indian, Isaac does not, and they both agreed that they ought to test Sam’s tastebuds. Time for the demon to run the gauntlet. 

The short woman sneezes like she’s allergic to spiciness. It’s as adorable and as small as she is. 

The receptionist holds out the tissue box with a polite, “Bless you.” The short woman stares at her with those huge eyes like she’s never been blessed-you before in her life. 

“How about this,” Oliver says, moving the bag away from her to his other arm, “I can give you my work cell, and you can contact me at any time during the next few business days, and I’ll connect you personally to someone who can help you.” 

He does not yet know who he could foist this onto—Brad handles incoming med-mal cases, Barb handles matrimony, and he doesn’t actually know other departments’ dedicated paras for incoming shit—but he can’t leave the poor receptionist (is her name Isabelle?) alone with a belligerent not-client. The office manager has left for the day and he doesn’t want this to escalate to needing security. 

“I suppose that would work,” the woman sighs like this is a great ordeal. (It is, but not on her end.) Her nose wrinkles again, but she doesn’t follow up with another sneeze. Oliver wonders if Sam is going to sneeze over the food, too. 

“Here, sorry,” Oliver mutters and tries to keep himself bodily between her and the food. He scribbles down his number on the pad of paper. “Not important enough for my own business card, but I can help you tomorrow, or whenever is convenient for you to call. You can even leave a voicemail tonight. Oh—and my name is Oliver.” He does not include his surname, because while she doesn’t seem to know a single thing about law firms, it doesn’t take a genius to see his last name on the building. 

“Kirara,” she replies and takes the whole pad of paper without ripping the top note off. 

“I look forward to hearing from you, but if you’ll excuse me, ladies, I really have to get going.” He scoots around Kirara (what an unusual name, sounds anime), still keeping the bag away from her, and waves to the night receptionist. 

Irina. That’s her name. 

To Oliver’s unending chagrin, Kirara follows him out into the cold night. He’s lucky there isn’t a wind to fight him. (He knows his hair gel, even after a long day, can withstand about anything, thankfully.) 

“The cops would probably be a better idea if you’re missing someone,” Oliver comments, fumbling a moment with his jacket. 

Kirara does not move to hail a cab, but stuffs her hands—and the entire pad of paper—in her big coat’s pockets. After a moment, she pulls her knitted beanie even lower on her head. “The police won’t help in this case, and I can’t readily go to them.” 

“Is there… something else going on?” He waits with bated breath for the potential drama bomb. 

“She left, and I think she is what you call a minor.” 

“Dude, just a runaway?” he mutters before he can stop himself. Kirara squints up at him and he pastes on a smile while reminding himself to stay in fancy lawyer mode for a little while longer. Even if he should have been free ages ago. He’s surprised Isaac isn’t sending bitchy texts every five seconds yet. “If there are extenuating circumstances, we can discuss options with you.” 

“As you said. At this point, I’m willing to try almost anything,” Kirara grumbles. She casts another bright-eyed look up at him. Her eyes remind him of what little he saw of Christine. “I will contact you, after I figure out a better way to explain the circumstances. I can pay very well. You’re welcome.” 

“Uh. Thanks?” 

But before he can stress that he will not be the one working with her, she marches off into the early evening. 

He’s had to deal with weirder clients, though, so he shakes his head, mentally shakes it off, and hails a ride for himself. 

[incidentreport31]

Episode One: In the Middle of the Street TRANSCRIPT

[You can listen to the show wherever you get your podcasts.]

[Intro music players.]

ANNOUNCER:

Three-Eyed Frog Presents: Incident Report Number 31.

[Theme song fades to a stop.]

[click recorder on]

ARCHIVIST:

Test. Test. One, two, three. (mutters) Bloody hell, why does it smell like something died in here? Well, guess we can’t prove something didn’t, eh? The recorder seems to be working, at least.

My name is Val West. I’m the newly appointed head archivist at The [REDACTED] Institute, which documents people’s possible experiences with the supernatural for both emotional support purposes and to get recovery time off of work, school, et cetera if the trauma is deemed severe enough by their employers or other supervisory staff.[beat as they scoff] Supernatural doctor’s note, innit...

The Head of the Institute, Mr. Neil Banks, has asked me to record these accounts because, well, there actually isn’t really a good reason. [mutters] Didn’t spend eight years getting a masters in library sciences to read stories into a dusty tape recorder, but, we all have to get by.

I do, at least, have people to assist me: two researchers: Zach Zamuel-Imogen Baker, and Christine Lewis, along with, I’m told, a very well-respected psychologist: one [hesitant] Dr. Oliver Possum, who will be advising me on any cases where there is necessary psychological follow up. I haven’t actually met any of them yet, but hopefully they will be helpful.

I was also explicitly told not to look behind the bookshelf to my left, so I will be looking behind the bookshelf later today...right. Guess I should get started, then.

[Sound of papers tapped on desk to organize them]

ARCHIVIST:

[They clear their throat.] For the consideration of Ortolan Bunting Law Firm: Ayla Stephenson’s encounter with a house that did not exist and her subsequent request for thirty hours of paid time off. No date given. Fine by me. Not gonna lose sleep over improperly filled out paperwork. Well. Start? I suppose? Yes.

[ACCOUNT.]

I feel the need to start with this, so you fully understand what I’m trying to say. I have a feeling you’ll just dismiss my story otherwise. I’ve lived here going on ten years now. Moved here on the promise of a job from the same company that I still work for today: Ortolan Bunting Law Firm. I drive the same route to work every day. I mean, I looked up the quickest way on the map when I first moved to town, and hey, who am I to question that? If it works it works. No need to make something difficult when the map’ll just figure it for you that first day, right?

I guess I’m getting a bit off topic here, but my point is that I’ve been going the same way for a decade, which is to say that I know the route to and from work like the back of my hand. Sure, maybe I don’t pay attention to every detail every day, I mean after ten years, the drive is almost an unconscious thing-

ARCHIVIST:

(mutters) Not a great way to build up your story’s credibility but, I digress.

[ACCOUNT.]

-but I still know all the road’s quirks, even if they don’t stick out to me after all this time. I know that the first left turn light on the way lasts for about two seconds and if you’re more than two cars behind in line, you’ll have to wait a whole cycle to go. I know there’s a business center that, god knows why, has their logo done in comic sans just off to the right before I merge onto the highway. Once I’m on that freeway for about fifteen minutes, I can see this drive through coffee place on one of the adjacent streets. Every single morning the line’s backed up out to the street- you’d think there’d be a better way to do that, but that’s more of a personal gripe and certainly not the point. On my way back from work, I take a few side streets to avoid rush hour traffic on the main road- just the way the map recommended on my first day, of course, I’m not looking to get lost in the backroads. There’s a few old houses, sometimes I see elderly couples sitting out on their porches. Sometimes they wave and I do have the decency to wave back, though some of my colleagues might not believe you… I’m afraid I’ve been a bit put off by this whole experience and have been taking it out on some of my coworkers. All the more reason to give me the [THE ARCHIVIST sighs this last part out as they are once again pulled out of the story] time off that I so kindly requested.

ARCHIVIST:

That last line is crossed out. It appears that Ms. Stephenson was reluctant for her Firm to read that bit if this ever got back around to them. To be honest, the way that this is going, I’m not so sure that plea would have done anything for her, but I am, of course, to remain the impartial academic in my work here, so I suppose I’ll allow the defacing of Institute paperwork just this once, even if the scribbles are rather unprofessional.

[ACCOUNT.]

There're a few empty lots there too. I think at one point, the city wanted to buy them up and make a park, but I don’t think they ever got around to it. Really don’t think they will now. I’m getting ahead of myself. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’ve been going the same way day in and day out for ten years… I’d notice if something was different.

ARCHIVIST:

I’m assuming… that is the point of this report yes? [beat] Continuing on.

[ACCOUNT.]

Nothing that day was really any different, I’d say. Just drove to work, hit all the usual landmarks: waiting to turn at the light, glancing at the comic sans sign, thinking that that coffee shop is definitely obstructing traffic, the usual. Went to work, got through the day with… minor amounts of stress… I mean it’s legal work, it isn’t fun, but somebody’s gotta do it. Got off right at five, gathered up my things and left. I took my usual streets, not really minding anything, but I noticed no one was out on the porches. That’s not unusual, I know, people can be inconsistent, it’s not a big deal, but looking back? Maybe they knew something was off… I mean if I’d lived in that neighborhood I certainly would have.

[Eerie music begins playing.]

I always drive with the radio on, can’t stand being alone with my thoughts on a busy street where road rage can make its way into my thoughts. Guess I should’ve mentioned that earlier, huh? Either way it seems important that I say it’s part of my daily life. I do it every day, and I’ve never had a problem with reception in that area, so when the sound started to glitch out, I thought something was wrong with my car. It was frustrating, sure, but not a big deal, even if I don’t necessarily enjoy the sound of static more than the average person.

I went through the usual useless attempts to fix it, of course. Smacked it a few times, turned it off and on again, but nothing changed. In the end, I just turned it off as I kept driving. Figured my own thoughts were better than the white noise that faded in and out of my speaker at an unpredictable volume. Things were fine for a few minutes. I’d almost gotten to the end of the street when I realized something wasn’t quite right.

At first, I thought maybe the light was just reflecting into my eyes weird. Maybe I’d just seen something out of the corner of my eye that there was a fine explanation for. Because… I knew this road. And there had never been a house there before. I was sure of it. A whole house isn’t something that could go up in a night, but you know that, you aren’t an idiot.

[Record scratch, cutting the music off.]

ARCHIVIST:

[pretentious bastard] I’d certainly like to think so, yes.

[ACCOUNT.]

But there it was. It wasn’t right next to the other houses, a few lots down the road instead. Other than my knowledge that it wasn’t there before, though, it could have blended into the neighborhood without anyone noticing.All things considered, it was a pretty nice house. Sure, it was done up in that fancy Victorian style and therefore inherently a little unnerving, you know how those old places just seem a little haunted even if they’re perfectly put together?

Still, beyond that, it was fine. Not broken down in that sort of creepy ghost way that you see in movies, or anything. The paint was pretty well done, only a little aged from the sun, and all the wood on the wrap-around porch was together. I mean if I was building a murder house, I would’ve splintered the boards and peeled up the exterior wall a bit, something along those lines, you know? It looked like someone could have been living out of it. Totally normal.

I know what you’re thinking, that I got out and had a look, but I can’t say I did. As the sun was going down? While I was all of a sudden unsure of my own thoughts? Really? No way in hell. I’m not an idiot either. So I kept driving. As I passed by, I got this strange feeling… like I wasn’t alone on the street. I don’t know if I imagined it or not, but with how much I was already questioning what I knew, I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer, and I sped away, not wanting to stick around any longer than I had to. Now, when I got home, I went through stages of denial before realizing that, hey, it wasn’t my damn neighborhood, and therefore not actually a problem that I would have to deal with.

At least until I was driving back from work the next afternoon. Funny how that works… your problems don’t just disappear because you’ve chosen to ignore them. Although ignore is a strong word considering I spent all day at work worrying about whether or not I should trust myself and whether or not I would see the house again when I drove home… I could’ve gone another route, of course. Could’ve gone even one street over and left it at that.

But that isn’t how it works, is it? I was so unsure of my own thoughts that I’d rather put myself in a situation that seemed potentially harmful than not know if I was wrong or not. [beat] So I went down the same route, just like I’d been conditioned to for the last decade. Once again, the couples were inside. They had to know something was wrong, I mean I was able to realize the house shouldn’t have been there and I didn’t even live in the neighborhood. I slowed my car to a snail’s pace as I inspected all about the street that I could. Not really sure what I was looking for if I’m being honest, but when I got to the house, I’d convinced myself that, yes, in fact, it was as real as the rest of the places on the block.

I don’t think it was really a conscious decision when I stopped the car. I’d just been going so slow already and… well I’d reached my target, hadn’t I? I sat and gazed over the house for a few moments. Looking over the perfect condition it seemed to be in, to no avail. It seemed to be perfectly normal. Maybe… Maybe I was really just in my head about all of this. Was it really that hard to believe? I should’ve just left, stopped staring at this place. Sitting there wasn’t going to change the fact that it was there, whether or not I could really trust my mind.

But… then I saw the curtains in the front window move. I snapped my gaze over to where I’d seen the motion and there was a little boy staring at me through the glass. He looked off to something behind the curtain before looking back over and waving, grinning a gap toothed smile at me. I... Well I wasn’t quite sure what to do with that so… I waved back. What else was I supposed to do? In an instance, I became convinced that I’d really just made the whole thing up. If there really was someone inside and nothing untoward seemed to be going on, the kid had seemed perfectly happy after all, then it had to be a real house. And really, if it had been some big spooky master plan, then why would he have acknowledged me? I’ve been to the movie theatre. I know children in horror flicks can be creepy, but just straight up waving at me like I was just another neighbor and nothing was going on? Didn’t exactly set up the sinister mood that I figured would have come from the place.

And then a hand shot out and. The kid recoiled as it shut, looking disappointed that he’d been caught doing something it was evident he wasn't supposed to. And I snapped back into trusting myself and sticking with my gut. I didn’t like the look of that. At all. Unfortunately, my whole life, I’ve generally been prone to the third fear response rather than either of the useful ones: I freeze. This time was no different. I couldn’t bring myself to drive away.

[In the background, eerie music begins playing.]

I sat there in dead silence for what felt like hours with a vague feeling of unease hanging in the air when the door opened. A man stepped out, wearing this fine tailored suit that I’d seen clients wealthier than I would ever be wear into my office and carried himself with the confidence of a person that knows no one is going to cross them. Despite all that, his face was soft. Approachable. Kind, even. Seemed like the kind of guy that knew he had money, but was willing to help you if you’d just say thank you afterwards.

As he approached my car he called out to me: “Hello there!”

Nice and friendly. Even with the strangeness of a few moments ago and my lingering unease, I could hardly bring myself to believe that this man would do anything to me. Sure, I was still stuck to my seat in fear, but he seemed perfectly safe. Maybe that’s just what it’s like to be charismatic though, looking back. I wasn’t sure what to do at that point, but my pre-programmed social response got the better of me and I rolled down my window to meet him.

“Hi.” I said. Just a simple greeting until I could really figure out what was happening.

He put one hand on the top of my car and leaned down to meet my eyes. As he spoke, his smile never faded: “So… I take it… you can see this place?”

Well, I was so taken aback I wasn’t really sure what to say, so I just nodded. And the next thing he said, well… threw me a bit off. He stood up, brushed off his pants calmly, turned back to the house, began walking, and he just said-

[Record scratch, cutting the music off.]

ARCHIVIST:

Now there’s a profanity here that I will not repeat, but it seems Ayla’s statement finishes there.

[The Archivist sighs and shuffles their papers.]

ARCHIVIST:

There’s not much followup to be done here. Ayla gave us a street address, but didn’t actually tell us which house it was. [mutters] Perhaps she’s more of an idiot than she claims to be.

Regardless, upon investigating the street, nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary, though none of our staff were familiar enough with the area to tell which houses should and shouldn’t be there. In my personal opinion, this is a mere case of a poor attention span. I can’t blame Ayla, I suppose, but was it really worth coming here and telling a whole dramatic story over it?

[scoff] There are some other areas of this statement that leave room for questioning and research, such as the radio static and the house’s residents. For now, however, I will be filing this one under “Irrelevant” in my mind. End recording.

[Recorder clicks on.]

[Recorder clicks back on.]

[There’s footsteps as HR walks down the hall. They knock on the Archivist’s office door. Meanwhile, the Archivist can be heard moving something.]

HR:

[muffled] Uh, hello? I’ve got something for the Archivist.

ARCHIVIST:

Oh, uh, yes, of course. Just let me— [They curse as they are heard tripping over piles of statements.]

[A pause.]

HR:

...should I come back at a later time, or—?

[The door suddenly swings open.]

ARCHIVIST:

Right. Blimey. Sorry about that, mate. What’s all this, then?

HR:

Er, are you the head archivist?

ARCHIVIST:

That depends, who’s asking?

HR:

Your HR. I’m also an intern under Mr. Banks, which brings about a whole array of other useless titles, but for your purposes, I’m just HR. My name is Luca.

ARCHIVIST:

Oh! Lovely. Mr. Banks told me I’d be seeing you. Um, pleasure to meet you.

HR:

Thanks, you—wait, wh—?

ARCHIVIST:

[trying to change the subject] Say, why are you here, Luca? Any plans for after your internship? I mean, surely, you have a field of study, a career plan?

HR:

[slowly, growing increasingly confused] Oh, um, yeah. I, um—well, I started here—um, yeah, after my internship, I. Uh.

ARCHIVIST:

It’s alright if you don’t have a plan, y’know. Took me a while to figure all my stuff out, and, well, I got out alive, didn’t I?

HR:

No, it’s just—I know I have something, I just. Um. [desperately trying to change the subject] What are you doing in there, exactly?

ARCHIVIST:

[beat] Oh, just some housekeeping.

HR:

...and that required you to move an entire bookshelf?

[A long pause.]

ARCHIVIST:

Listen, I know what this looks like.

HR:

Doesn’t he have a weird thing about that?

ARCHIVIST:

[passionate] Which is exactly why I did it! I mean, they’re not the heaviest bookshelves in the world, so it’s certainly not a matter of safety.

HR:

[mutters] As if Mr. Banks has ever valued the life and safety of his employees.

[Both are heard walking back into the office towards where the bookshelf was.]

ARCHIVIST:

[cont.] Which means there must have been something weird about the bookshelf—and I was right. See, look, there’s like a weird...hole. Thing.

HR:

...I’m guessing that’s why Mr. Banks made me bring you a shovel?

ARCHIVIST:

Hm? Oh, right, the shovel. Kind of forgot I had asked for that.

HR:

How did you not notice I was carrying it when I came here?

ARCHIVIST:

You see, within the hole, there’s this big mound of dirt, and I have reason to believe that there’s something hidden beneath.

HR:

[They sniff, then, disgusted] Oh god, why does it smell like something died in there?

ARCHIVIST:

That’s what I’m trying to find out.

HR:

Look, can’t you just...I don’t know, leave it? Like, just put the bookshelf back, spray some air freshener, and then be done with it? I really don’t want to have to write this up.

ARCHIVIST:

You expect me to work under these conditions? Having a mysterious hole in my wall with no idea what’s lurking within?

HR:

Look, I just think this is a really stupid idea. If Mr. Banks finds out—

ARCHIVIST:

He’s not going to! You— [they huff a sigh.] Would you just hand me my shovel? I’m going in!

HR:

Whatever you say.

[HR hands the Archivist the shovel.]

ARCHIVIST:

Thank you.

[They are heard shoveling for some time, before the Archivist finally seems to hit something.]

HR:

Is...is that…?

ARCHIVIST:

My god.

HR:

That’s a dead body.

ARCHIVIST:

Appears to be. [beat.] Do you know who it is?

HR:

I mean, they’re sort of hard to recognize now.

ARCHIVIST:

Perhaps the previous archivist?

HR:

I dunno, I never knew them.

[A long pause.]

ARCHIVIST:

Right, then. Back to work. Mind helping me move this bookshelf?

HR:

(under their breath) God, I’m gonna have to write this up, aren’t I?

[Recorder clicks off.]

[Theme music plays.]

[CREDITS.]

Incident Report Number 31 is a podcast made by Three-Eyed Frog Presents. This episode, “In the Middle of the Street,” was written, directed, and produced by Val West and Luka Miller with sound design by Luka Miller. This episode featured Val West as the Archivist and Luka Miller as HR. Music is produced by Luka Miller. To keep up with the show and find transcripts, make sure to follow us on our Twitter at @IR31Pod and on tumblr at @IncidentReport31. To contact us with any questions or concerns, feel free to email us at incidentreport31@gmail.com. Thanks so much for listening!

[escapeinpapers]

MAY WRAP-UP

This month, I think I spent way too much time in booktube that my attention for a certain book quickly goes to another one. I’m quite mad at myself because I had not been consistent of my May TBR. Even so, I’m still pretty proud of myself because I’ve read more than what I expected to read. Also, I would say there were books that disappointed me this month but there were some that I quickly rated as 5 stars and made me so emotional.

So here are the books that I’ve read for the month of May.

NEW ADULT/ADULT ROMANCE

To Love Jason Thorn by Ella Maise (2/5)

The story is told by POV’s main characters, Olive and Jason. Olive is an indie author whose book will be adapted into a movie. She then finds out that the actor who will be playing the male protagonist is her brother’s childhood bestfriend/ her childhood crush and first love, Jason.

I honestly love the childhood crush and second chance romance trope on this book but it was getting bad and bad as I continue to read. I even prepared myself to be ready for a major twist or revelation but I was just disappointed. It felt like there was no real and impressive conflict on their relationship. I enjoyed the first few chapters and maybe towards the first half but it just got really crappy. There were cringey love scenes and sometimes the characters were being dumb that it is so frustrating.

(P.s. Every time Jason calls Olive “little one”, I cringe and I remember Thanos from Avengers lol.)

The Guy on the Right by Kate Stewart (3.5/5)

This is a friends to lovers novel. Main characters are Theo and Laney. Theo is quite shy and a reserved person. He lives in a house with Troy, the popular playboy roommate. He calls himself as “the guy on the right” because Troy always takes the spotlight and many girls go after him. He met Laney on a party. She, on the other hand is the quirky, outspoken and hardworking country girl. They became close, started a social media page and they eventually fell in love with each other.

This is my first new adult book ever. I’m usually into young adult and adult books so it was a huge step for me to explore this genre and gladly I enjoyed this book and now I’m more interested to read other new adult books. The storyline was good. I gave it only 3.5 stars because it was just an okay read for me. I love the elements of music and social media. The characters were also charming in their own ways. And you’ll get quotations called Grannism every end of a chapter. Some were really relatable.

Read my full review:

The Naked Truth by Vi Keeland (4/5)

The book is all about a second chance romance. Layla, a lawyer, was asked to do the pitch for a prospect client to their law firm. She didn’t know that the client she’s gonna impress was Gray, her ex who just got out of prison. Gray want Layla back and he wants to clear all the misunderstanding and explain to her why he had to lie to her.

I didn’t expect to love this book. I love the shift of timelines from present to the past. I thought that it will be just full of steamy scenes but the plot was amazing. The twists and turns were impressive. There’s one that really struck me and I literally screamed with that revelation. It was a major drama I didn’t see coming. I think people who love K-Drama (like me) would like this book. I also love how the author portrayed the aspects of family, marriage as well as death. The lawyer-prisoner romance was also interesting. It is my first time reading that kind of trope. My only issue with this book is Layla being sometimes annoying with her petty arguments.

The Unhoneymooners by Christina Lauren (5/5)

Due to food poisoning, Olive’s twin sister and Ethan’s brother can’t make it to their honeymoon in Maui. Thus, Olive and Ethan were asked to take their places. The problem is, Olive and Ethan do not get along very well. They pretty much hate each other’s guts but the two need to work together and act as newly married couple. Only, they didn’t realize that this free vacation is changing their lives.

This was an easy 5 stars for me. I enjoyed this book so much because it was atmospheric. It felt like I was on the beach myself because of how engaging the story was. The enemy to lovers and fake marriage/relationship tropes were done beautifully. I was easily hooked into the story and the twists were just freaking good. Olive and Ethan’s chemistry is so strong. Their banters were very fun. I just love love love this book.

Read my full review:

Ugly Love by Colleen Hoover (5/5)

The story revolves around Tate and Miles. Tate is a nurse who has no time for love and Miles is a pilot who doesn’t want to love again. Their first meeting was not great but their paths always cross because he’s her new neighbor and he’s her brother’s friend and co-pilot. Physical attraction grew between them and they can’t put aside their desires so they had some sort of friends with benefits relationship. But things get really bad because they are slowly breaking their own rules.

This is officially one of my favorite books of all time. Everything in this book is just perfect. I kind of judged this book very wrongly 2 years ago when I first tried to read this because I thought it will be just about sex and at that time my smut level on books was really low. But, I decided to read it again out of a whim at freaking midnight. I looked past through the love scenes (though idk I find it dreamy and romantic now) and focused on the story, and swear, I was blown away. I never thought that I would cry so badly again over a book.

Read my full review:

FANTASY

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas (2/5)

This is somewhat a Beauty and the Beast retelling. Feyre, a normal mortal girl, killed a Faerie (a magical creature) while she was hunting for food. She was punished to live in a High Fae’s manor to pay for the life she had taken and she ends up falling in love with Tamlin, her captor who can shapeshift and who wears a crappy mask.

I really want to love this book. Some people told me to don’t stop reading because it will get good. But sadly, I just did not like it (Sorry! ). The writing is atmospheric though, I admired it at first. However, as I go on, the description of the settings or for the other things were too much and I think did not necessarily affect the situation at hand. Sometimes, it was just too flowery and over with metaphors. Feyre and Tamlin as characters were not effective, their chemistry is “meh”. There were cringey lines especially on the love scenes. The plot twists were not hard for me to predict. I think this book was not just for me to read. Though, I’ve been told that the sequel is the best among the series so I might give it a shot soon.

The Grisha Trilogy by Leigh Bardugo

Shadow & Bone (3/5)

Siege & Storm (3/5)

Ruin & Rising (2/5)

Alina had discovered her unique powers to summon light when they were assigned to cross the Shadow Fold. It’s a forsaken place of impenetrable darkness with flesh eating monsters. Leaving Mal, her childhood bestfriend and the guy that she also likes, she was sent to the Little Palace to work with the magical elites called Grisha in hopes that she could destroy the fold and unite Ravka. While working to hone her powers, she finds herself developing feelings for The Darkling, the mysterious and attractive as hell leader of Grisha. On her journey to destroy the Shadow Fold, she encountered many challenges, revelations and truth about the people around her.

I really had high expectations for this series because I love the author and her Six of Crows duology. But I was again, disappointed. It’s not that it was that bad, it was not just as great as I expected it to be. I have a love and hate relationship with this series. The first book was good. The build up of the story was beautifully done. I love the magical system and the characters were intriguing, but only at first. I understand why the Darkling is hyped up till now because he is absolutely mysterious and hot (plus Ben Barnes will be playing the role for the Netflix adaptation). Revealing Alina’s power as well as the Darkling’s was very cool. The second book is where the Darkling gets literally dark. Even though this was more tensed because of the twists, I enjoyed and laughed many times than the first book because of Nikolai. He’s not the main character of this series but its funny because I like him the most. Scratch that. I love him. The third book was just so disappointing. I enjoyed the side characters’ romance more and the twists were not that impressive. And the ending? Worst. I think there’s one common denominator of all the things that I didn’t like in this series, and that is Alina being a typical weak female protagonist. She is just annoying sometimes, too dependent of the other characters and does weak and petty arguments.

Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo (5/5)

This is the sequel of the Six of Crows duology. Kaz and his crew did the heist they were asked to do but they had to face their consequences and take down the real enemy. As much as I’m excited to tell you more about the plot, I won’t go any further because I don’t want to spoil anything.

I absolutely love the first book and I was not disappointed with this one. This is my best fantasy reads so far. I fell in love more with Kaz, Inej, Matthias, Niña, Wylan and Jesper. They are just freaking amazing. The character development was done so good. The plot twists are super amazing and I got fooled many times. Also, the ending is so satisfying. I have to admit, I enjoyed this duology more than The Grisha Trilogy.

Read my full review:

YOUNG ADULT CONTEMPORARY

10 Blind Dates by Ashley Elston (4/5)

We follow Sophie’s journey towards healing her broken heart. Her Grandma decided to set up her in blind dates and the guys he’ll be dating are chosen by some of her family members. So, she went onto these days, in hopes to forget her ex-boyfriend. But things get complicated. Her ex wants her back but the feelings she had for an old friend is growing back.

If you’re looking for something that is light, cute and a quick read, this is the book for you. The blind dating thing was just very cute. I never expected to like it, but it was just interesting and each date was fun in their own ways. I also love the essence of family and friendship on this book. As a person who grew up in a family-oriented household, I can relate so much of the main character.

Read my full review:

They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera (5/5)

In this world, there’s this system called Death Cast. They call people to give them an alert that they’re gonna die on that day. No when and how but only the information that on that day that you are called, it’s your time to say goodbye to the world. Mateo had been always paranoid about the time that he will receive the call. So, when Death Cast called him, he had been more paranoid than ever. Then, he met Rufus, who’s also gonna die that day, through The Last Friend app. Despite the two having very different attitude towards accepting their death, they decided to spend their last day together.

This is the kind of book that is very hard to put down. The title itself is already very intriguing. All the time I was reading this, I can’t help but to be anxious because knowing anytime soon, Rufus and Mateo are gonna die. I had a lot of theories on how they would die but it was no where near. The narration is very deceiving which I love. The message of this book is also very touching plus the characters are very relatable and I can’t help to put myself in their shoes. I know it is unpleasant to think about death especially these times but this book just made me realize things about life and it made me reflect and ask myself on how I’ve been living my life so far. I love this book so much that it is one of my best reads for this year and I might make a full review for this one.

So those were all the books that I've read for the month of May. For June, I've been thinking to read genres that I don't usually read such as msytery and thrillers. I hope I would be consistent on my next month's TBR.

Thank you for reading. I hope some of the books caught your interest. Till my next post ❤

[goodnightandbillyrobicheaux]

Faraquez Cook Off Fic

Josh grinned at the sound of the front door opening and shutting again. "I swear officer! I'm done with the hard stuff! I'm just cooking dinner for my amazingly sexy husband..." He felt a warm pair of lips on his neck shortly after. "I'm afraid I may have to search you for contraband, sir." Vas whispered in his ear, his hand snaking downward to squeeze at a firm ass cheek. "Hey now, slow down there law dog." Josh shrugged him off. "You'll make me burn your dinner." "Hmm." Vas hummed, receiving the soft little kiss on the mouth that Josh offered before he turned his attention back to the stove. Vas kept a hold around his husband's waist as he cooked. "How was work?" Josh asked. "Not nearly as busy as it was yesterday, thank God." Vas replied, resting his head on Josh's shoulder. "What're you making?" "A little seafood medley for my love." Josh smiled at him, flipping the scallops he was currently frying. "I went down to the pier today. Got nice fresh shrimp, scallops, and squid." "That the calamari?" Vas asked with a yawn as he watched Josh cook over his shoulder. "I think you cut it a little thick, Guero." "For your information, oh master chef, these are scallops and I cut them like a damn professional." Josh replied smugly. Vas made a face. "You don't fry scallops." He told Josh. Said red head turned to look at him with an irritated frown. "Excuse me?" He asked. "You can't cook them like that, Guero." Vas continued, letting go of Josh's hips. "Look." He pointed. "They're gonna be all greased up and fatty now." "Your point?" Josh asked. "I don't wanna put a greasy lard ball into my mouth or my stomach. You know I'm on a diet!" Vas argued, hands now on his hips. "Well excuse me for trying to make your whiny ass dinner!" Josh fired back. "If you want them cooked different maybe you should do it yourself!" "Guero don't...." Vas sighed, trying to stop Josh before he removed his apron and shoved it at Vas, then slamming his spatula down on the counter by the stove and storming out of the kitchen. Vas sighed and proceeded to finish the meal on his own. ....... "This is stupid." Vas rolled his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest. "No. It's necessary." Josh countered, setting out all of their supplies on the kitchen counter. "You could just apologize and admit you can't fry scallops you know." Vas grinned hopefully at him. Josh chuckled and shook his head. "Yeah. You wish, buddy. Get an apron on. They'll be here any minute." He told his husband, tossing him a pink apron that read 'Kiss the Cook' across the chest in rhinestones. "Where did this come from?" Vasquez asked, glaring at Josh. "It was my grandma's." Josh but his lip, trying not to laugh. "You went out and bought this didn't you!?" Vas growled. The doorbell rang, interrupting their little spat and possibly saving Josh's life at that point. "Hey guys. Come on in." Joshua greeted the rest of their little gang at the door. They didn't tell them of their plan until everyone had socialized a bit and had a few glasses of wine. In Josh's experience, It was always better to confess whatever you'd been hiding after the alcohol was served. "You invited us here under false pretenses." Goodnight accused. "Hey, look at it this way. You guys get a free three course meal plus alcohol and all ya gotta do is sit there and tell us which plate you like better." Josh tried to convince them all. "May I ask why you're doing this?" Emma spoke up. "You know it's just gonna cause hurt feelings." "Don't be a party pooper." Josh told her. "This is gonna be fun." Red shrugged, taking another sip of wine from his glass. "See? Red's in!" Josh nodded toward their Comanche friend. "Hey, free wine. Free food. I'm happy." Red replied with a smile. "Well I suppose so long as neither of you poisons anyone it could be fun." Jack finally gave in. "There, now see? This is gonna be a party. Now you all stay there and we'll bring the food to you." Josh smiled his signature goofy smile. The others weren't very optimistic at first but the first dish wasn't that bad. The boys started them off with shrimp based appetizers. Josh brought out a shrimp cocktail while Vas made shrimp tempura, which Billy was quite fond of. "Billy that really hurts." Josh whined. "All you did was clean a few shrimp and place them around a glass filled with cocktail sauce." Billy firmly reminded him, defending his position on the matter. "Billy's worth more points." Vas declared. "Him being a professional chef and all." "Bull!" Josh growled. "Boys, just get on with the next course without fighting again please." Sam sighed, rubbing his temples. These children really stressed him out at times. Especially these particular two. There were several complains about dessert being served after the appetizer, but of course Josh wouldn't let the main course come till last. He claimed it was the grand finale. "You can't just serve dessert before the main course." Emma told their two wannabe chefs. "She's right." Teddy agreed. "It throws everything out of whack." "Teddy your brain is outta whack." Josh snorted. "Everyone just be quiet and taste the damn desserts." Vas's ended up being the favorite. Cheesecake with raspberries and white chocolate would be a favorite of any sane person, though. "You all are startin' to piss me off." Josh muttered after the judges had given their ruling. "You're just a sore loser." Vas beamed. "Who doesn't like churros!?" Josh demanded. "Josh it's not that we didn't like them." Goody tried to explain. "It's that they had street fair written all over them. Not upper middle class dinner party." Vas had a smug grin on his face and Josh shot him a glare. By now he was so discouraged that he didn't even want to bring out the main course. They did though, of course, and once again Vasquez's seared scallops triumphed over Josh's fried ones. "Why!?" He demanded the others as they finished up their meals. "Joshua, dear." Goody started. "Everything you've given us has been dipped in fat and fried twice over." "So what? That's what Americans eat!" Josh argued. "Not all." Emma spoke up. "Some people prefer a healthier, less grease filled meal." "Plus, too much fry batter cancels out all the natural flavors." Billy added. "If you're gonna fry something at least be sure you can still taste whatever it is." Josh was defeated and forced to apologize to his husband for the night before. Vas was forgiving, but also a little bit of a braggart. He wouldn't let it drop that he'd won. Not until that night anyway before they went to bed. Josh was sitting up in bed flipping through channels when Vas got out of the shower. "What're we watching tonight, Guero?" He asked, still drying his hair with a towel. "Don't know." Josh shrugged. "There's nothin' good on." Vas climbed into bed next to him, taking his husband into his arms and kissing down his neck tenderly. "I'm sorry I was so smug about winning tonight." He told him. Josh shrugged again. "Guess some people just can't appreciate a nice all American meal." He sighed. Vas chuckled. "Why don't I make it up to you and we can go out to eat tomorrow?" He suggested. "Only if it's Olive Garden." Josh insisted. "Done." Vas agreed, resting his chin on Josh's shoulder as the other man flipped through more channels before finally landing on 'Cupcake Wars'. "This show always puts me in the mood to make cupcakes." Vas told his husband. "Just be glad we didn't have a cupcake contest." Josh told him. "Hm? Whys that?" Vas asked him. "Duh. My cupcakes would dominate yours." Josh stated with confidence. Vas gave a snort. "Want me to prove it?" Josh challenged. "Why don't we just make a midnight run to the bakery downtown instead?" Vas suggested. "Hell, I'm game." Josh replied, swinging out of bed and going to grab his shoes. Vas followed him out of the bedroom, grabbing the car keys and giving Josh's ass a little tap. THE END

[standrewumcspokenword]

Foundations II: Why We Need An Ark

Last week, we started with the foundational story of Noah.  This is one of those stories that grips me. Not because it’s a great history lesson – it’s not. It’s not because of the great kids messages about it. But it grips me because this story has gotten under my skin and I’ve seen myself in it, especially in a wrong way. It’s so easy to get this story wrong. It looks like Noah is alone in the world. So when I feel misunderstood, alone, like a street preacher on the corner raving against the world, I justify it by saying I’m a Noah, warning everybody.

 But last week, we learned that this really isn’t that kind of story. It’s not a story about a man warning others and getting to be right in the end. In the Bible, we don’t get to be right or prove we’re right.  But we do get to see that God is right.

 And Noah’s story is about God. God helping out one ordinary man who was just doing what he was supposed to do.  And who built an ark.  

 It was a story drawn from Epic of Gilgamesh, a script flipped to become the Hebrew people’s story of going through deep waters.

 Genesis tells us it rained 40 days and 40 nights.  We can’t hear that without referring to another foundational story in Exodus that includes the number 40.  The story of the Exodus itself, where the Hebrew people left bondage in Egypt but couldn’t get to where they wanted to go for how many years? They wandered, like a boat floating, for 40 years. That number didn’t just wander in there. It’s there for a reason.

 The ark is their story. It’s not just about one person.  But a people.

 “Ark” is a curious word.  It’s an odd word when we see it in Genesis.  The word used there is “tebah” [taw-bah].  The Hebrew people had a word for ship or boat (on-ee-yaw) that was used 36 times – including the boat Jonah was in… before he was swallowed by the whale. So, why isn’t that word used here?

 There’s only one other time when taw-bah is used.  In the beginning of Exodus, the Pharaoh decreed that all Hebrew boys should be thrown in the Nile River. Exodus 2:3 says, though, that after a boy named Moses was born, his mother, in an act of civil disobedience, “got a papyrus basket for him, and plastered it with bitumen and pitch; she put the child in it and placed it among the reeds on the bank of the river. Exodus 2:3” The papyrus basket is the taw-bah, it’s the ark.  By it, Moses was saved.  

 The ark saved God’s people. In the days of Noah, God saved those on the ark through water.  We say those words in our baptism covenant, the one where we join the church.  By the ark, we go through the waters we encounter. The ark is a place of salvation. It’s what preserves life, even in the midst of death.

 If you like etymology as much as I do, the word “ark” actually comes from an Egyptian word for coffin, but not the kind where the dead reside. A coffin in that culture is to be the boat that takes someone to a new life, it is the passage from this present world to another one.

 The ark brings the people to new life. It brings us to a new home.

 A few weeks ago, I read a headline that said “28 things Millennials are killing in cold blood… will anything stop their rampage.”   It wasn’t about a crime spree. But it is blaming those coming of age now for not buying what we used to.  I love how the next generation is always to blame for that kind of thing.  I mean… I bet folks in the 50’s were talking about how the new generation wasn’t buying Big Band and Swing Music.  

 Change can come like a flood.

 The headline accused millennials of killing, killing… golf courses, movie theaters, malls, even bars of soap, and chain restaurants (except Olive Garden).  The empty malls and restaurants are becoming coffins of dead stores, sitting idle for years. Until the roof is ripped off and something changes. Until what was meant as something dead, becomes a way to new life.

 I mean, look at the gym.  Millennials almost “killed” the traditional gym, because none of them could afford the monthly membership.  Until things changed. Gyms recognized that millennials are much more health conscious than previous generations. But they want more than just weights to lift and a track to run on.  They want an upscale experience.  They want towels.  And above all, they want something that offers them a chance to specialize, to challenge themselves, and to connect.  Big spaces, little gatherings.

 They also want it to be a spiritual experience.  A conversion.  It hits all of those.  They challenge themselves beyond where they are now.  They learning a lot about a specific kind of exercise or music.  And they connect with others in the process, for the most part having fun while they do it.  Even if that connection is a social app that gives the feel of a small group.  “Experts call it the tribe mentality, led by millennials who aren't afraid to spend more money to feel like they're part of a shared experience and community.”  You’re there to sweat, to stretch, and maybe even scream out in pain at a new move.  But little by little, health comes.

 That sweaty, smelly, irritable, soothing, connecting, pained laughing experience is an ark.  It’s a way to survive the onslaught of bad choices that come out way.  It’s a challenge that follows a blueprint of our God-given desire to move and connect so that we can become something more than we used to be.

 The experience wasn’t unlike those on the ark who gathered the animals together, fed them, scooped their stuff out, and kept the lion from snacking on the sheep.  And that’s why for ages people have compared the ark to the Church.  

 Despite the blueprint that God gave us, we know the Church is a human institution. We don’t get it right.  In fact, we confuse Noah’s ark with the ark of the Covenant – even though they are very different words in Hebrew.  That box was a representation of God’s presence, containing the tablets of the Law.  I say that because sometimes the Church gets it wrong when we quote that Law at people rather than be in the ark with them. Or offering them an ark.

 Here is where we sweat together, work together, getting up earlier than we would, and keep our worst tendencies at bay so we don’t eat each other alive.

 We laugh. We feed hungry kids at a summer lunch program.  We boil corn at a Cornfest.  Because despite our flaws, we are getting closer to a new promise of what God is doing.  We are here because we realize that we can’t be an ark all by ourselves.  We can’t ark alone.  If you look at the story, the only people who stayed put were probably those who got flooded out.  Change comes. We need an ark to get us through it.

 We need an ark.  We can’t do this alone.  If you know someone who feels like they’re “spiritual but not religious” and can make it on their own, bless them.  In 10 years, they’ll still be in the same place or worse, while we are gathered here for something else. We are a church.  A church full of those with questions, skeptical belief, praying while asking what I’m doing here, firm in our convictions, sure of our doubts, faithful in our practice, yes… we’re all types of people here.  Because this place, this church, is not my Church or your Church but it’s the Church of Jesus Christ. It’s not just for those who wear rainbow flags, American flags, United Nations flags, or any other group under the sun.  But it’s for all. Because this is not where I come to have my understanding of God spooned out to me in same way I’ve always known. But it’s where we come to ark together. To be Church together. To know the God who came to us in the flesh and lived among us in Jesus Christ.

 We need an ark.  Because the world doesn’t stay the same. Because the things we’ve depended on in the past won’t always be there. Because one prophet alone doesn’t change a thing. But a prophet willing to climb on a boat, willing to ark with a bunch of unruly animals can change the world.

 Despite all our skepticism, we make room to believe. To believe in God and each other. So that even those who tick me off the most – and there are none like that for me – a first in a long while – but yes, even those can be a part of this boat. They can be a part of this life-preserving force that will be there to resist the self-destructive waves around us.  

 Let’s get in this together.

 Let’s have a CornFest where we celebrate the gift you bring. Where we’ll be sweaty, smelly, and pretty exhausted afterwards.  But we’re doing something amazing together.  Building a place where all can come.  A place where we are invited to the table – whether you have $8 or not, even though, Mark, I know we want folks to give. But we are invited to a table that’s bigger than one event or one day. But an ark that will sustain us. A place that will keep us. Until we reach the Promised Land.