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daffietjuh · 5 years ago

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I’ve got more than whiskey in mind

A/N It’s nearly midnight, I wrote this in one sitting and I refuse to re-read this for errors. But this is based off the song “Whiskey in Mind” by Christian Kane. Also, I guess I write smut now *shrugs*.

Michael wasn’t planning on stopping. He really wasn’t. Except, he’s been driving for hours, from Houston to San Francisco and there’s still three hours to go and it’s dark, has been for hours now, and he’s so fucking tired and he really needs a drink and maybe to get laid, but that’s not a priority. He knew Isobel would skin him alive if he wasn’t there in time for her rehearsal dinner or whatever the fuck else you had to do for a wedding, but when he saw the light up sign for a bar in the middle of Bumfuck, Nowhere… well, he was not strong enough to resist the promise of a barstool and a cold beer. Or maybe some whiskey. God, he could go for some whiskey.

So he caves, he parks his truck and unfolds himself from the cab. His back cracks and his knees crack and he feels approximately forty years older than he actually is. The sign is too bright for his tired eyes, so he doesn’t bother trying to read it. It’s a bar, that’s all he cares about. He pushes the door open and heads inside.

It’s midnight on a Monday (or he supposed Tuesday now), the place isn’t crowded, but there seems to be a solid group there that look like they live here. They also seem to be packing up to go home. Michael says a little prayer to a God he doesn’t believe in. Please say he hadn’t missed last call?

He lets himself fall down on one of the barstools, he blinks at the wall, trying to get his brain to cooperate with him. There’s two people behind the bar, a man and a woman. They’re talking amongst each other. Michael feels his eyes go out of focus. He’s going to fall asleep here and it’s going to be fucking embarrassing.

Suddenly a glass appears in front of him. It’s whiskey. Top shelf. The whiff he catches of it smells like heaven. He looks up into two of the most beautiful warm brown eyes he’s ever seen.

‘On the house.’ The man says and it takes Michael a second to register anything beyond the way the man’s lips curl around the words. He’s gorgeous.

‘Why?’ Apparently, being exhausted makes Michael rude beyond imagining.

‘You look like you need it.’ The guy shrugs. The fabric of his black t-shirt stretches over his wide shoulders and draws Michael’s eyes to the spot where his shoulders lead into his neck, to his jawline and those cheekbones.

‘Thank you. How’d you know my brand?’ Michael asks, now that he’s raised the glass to his lips and taken a sip, he’s realized this is exactly his poison. The guy smirks at him, he leans his elbows on the bar, bringing his face closer to Michael, allowing him to see the specks of gold in his eyes.

‘There’s certain things a bartender can just tell about a man.’ The comment is laced with a suggestive tone that has Michael’s pulse pick up speed. Fuck this guy is hot, maybe he’d get laid after all.

‘Well, thank you. What about you? Do you like the hard kick of old Kentucky bourbon, or the slow burn of Tennessee rye?’ The bartender looked away thoughtfully for a second. Michael immediately missed the weight of his eyes on him.

‘I’m more of a tequila man. I like it hard and fast and a little dirty.’ The guy wets his lips and Michael wants to launch himself over the bar and bite at them. Fuck, it had been a long time since someone got him going like this.

‘Alex, I’m heading out. You’ll close up, right?’ The woman from before moves from behind the bar in Michaels peripheral vision. He swears he can’t take his eyes of the hot bartender, Alex. He takes a long drink from his whiskey.

‘Yeah Maria, I’ll close up. You go home, get some sleep.’ Alex says, looking at Maria over Michael’s shoulder.

‘Alright, later babe. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’ Michael can hear the humour in her voice as the door opens.

‘Please, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do!’ Alex calls after her and a melodic laugh is the last he hears of Maria before the door falls shut. Alex turns his eyes back to Michael. His eyes are sparkling and Michael still wants to kiss him, really badly. He takes another drink from his whiskey.

Alex moves, but it’s further away and Michael has to bite his lip not to make a disappointed noise. Alex appears from behind the bar and Michael gets to take in the long lines of his body as he heads for the door. The way his thighs look in those jeans, the way his hips sway just slightly as he walks, his wonderful ass. This guy is like a walking work of art, an incredibly seductive work of art. The resounding click of the door being locked draws Michael from his musings. Alex saunters back to him. He knows exactly what he’s doing, he has to.

‘I’m Michael.’ He says instead of “fuck me”, like he actually wants to say.

‘Nice to meet you Michael, I’m Alex.’ He leans against the bar, he’s really damn close, and he gets closer, bumping his hip against Michael’s seat. ‘So, what brings you through Roswell?’ Right, he was in Roswell.

‘I’m on my way to a wedding.’ Michael says, twisting on his seat a little so he could keep his eyes on Alex more easily. Some of the easy flirtation disappears from Alex’s face.

‘Your own wedding?’

‘Oh no.’ Michael says quickly. ‘My sister, she’s getting married. In San Francisco. Which is where I’m heading.’

‘Ah, that’s good.’ Alex goes right back to being the embodiment of temptation. ‘Anything else I can do you for?’ Michael can feel himself grin.

‘I don’t know, the whiskey is pretty good.’ He says, titling his head in the way that always works.

‘Well to be honest, I’ve got more than whiskey in mind.’ Michael wasn’t expecting to find a guy this forward in a small town like this, but he wasn’t exactly complaining. In fact, he was doing the opposite of complaining. He felt like his heart was jumping in his chest. He was trying to play it cool, honestly, but also, he really wants this guy and they were all alone now.

He holds on to the last of his resolve until Alex takes his glass from his hands with deftly fingers and downs the whiskey that is left in Michael’s glass. That is hotter than it has any right to be. Alex places the glass behind the bar with a smooth move that has his biceps bulging.

Michael would have blamed him missing the taste of the whiskey already. He was just chasing the taste of that. That is why he kisses Alex right there and then. That’s why he kisses Alex hard and deep as he stumbles off his stool. Alex makes an approving sound in the back of his throat. Michael had payed attention. Hard, fast and a little dirty. Strong hands tangle in Michael’s hair and pull him closer. Michael catches himself with one hand on the bar behind Alex and the other sliding up Alex’s firm chest, along the side of his throat and around that ridiculous jawline. Michael digs his fingers in the soft hairs at the nape of Alex’s neck and relishes in the noise he makes as Michael bites his bottom lip.

He feels dizzy. Maybe it is from the liquor on Alex’s lips. No eighty proof had ever gotten him buzzing like this. It could also have been all of his blood rushing south. When Michael has to lean back to take a breath, Alex just ducks his head down and kisses his way along Michael’s throat. It is like he could read him like an open book, he scrapes his teeth over that spot at the base of his neck that always makes Michael’s knees go weak.

‘Fucking hell.’ Michael groans. Alex laughs into his neck.

‘I’ve got a bed upstairs.’ Michael could have bowed out there. Should have, probably. He could have shaken his head and just offered a quick hand job right there in the bar.

But Alex looks up at him from under his lashes with those eyes as he trails his hands down Michael’s chest, down to his belt. Yeah, no, a hand job wouldn’t do. He’d accept Isobel’s fury. He wants Alex.

‘Lead the way.’ Michael says. Alex’s grin is positively blinding.

He grabs Michael’s hand and starts dragging him through the bar, through a door and up a flight of stairs. Michael doesn’t have time or any desire to take in the apartment properly. His brain has zeroed in entirely on getting both his and Alex’s clothes off. Preferably as soon as possible. So as Alex is still trying to guide him towards a bed, Michael is already shrugging off his jacket. It lands on the floor with a thud that he really hopes doesn’t mean he just broke his phone.

He doesn’t think about it long as Alex turns and immediately slides those big hands with those talented, slim, fingers under his shirt and tugs it up off over his head. Michael immediately goes for Alex’s shirt. He drops it somewhere behind him. Alex doesn’t give him long to take in the view, pulling him back into another searing, heart pounding kiss. But Michael has hands, and he uses them. He tries to map out the way Alex feels under his hands, the strong line of his shoulders, the hot skin stretching over his chest, the soft bumps of his ribs under Michael’s fingertips and the flat line of his stomach. He wants to remember this. He’s been so hopelessly single lately, he’ll be able to use this encounter for months to come.

Alex seems to be about ready to move things along. He turns them around in a quick, smooth move and pushes Michael backwards. The backs of his knees hit the edge of a bed and he lets himself fall backwards. He bounced on the bed and watches intently as Alex crawls over to him, hovering over him as Michael makes a noise he barely recognizes. It draws a smirk onto Alex’s face. Michael tries to kiss it off his lips.

It’s not long before Alex is on the move again. He kisses his way down Michael’s chest. He scrapes his teeth softly over one of Michael’s nipples and he shudders, fuck, he didn’t even know he was into that. The cold air that Alex’s laugh blows over the sensitive skin has goosebumps appear all over his arms. He makes an annoyed noise and tangles his fingers in Alex’s hair, he tugs on it just a little and it gets him a heated look from Alex before he dives back down to Michael’s stomach this time.

Michael is so hard he feels like he’s going to explode the second Alex actually gets to touching his dick.

‘I want you to fuck me.’ Michael says it without giving himself time to overthink it. He’s only going to have Alex for one night, he’ll ask for what he wants. Alex’s hands have frozen over the button of Michael’s jeans.

‘Fucking hell.’ Alex breathes out. ‘Yeah.’

That’s apparently all they need. Michael’s pants and underwear disappear somewhere. Alex fumbles around in a drawer for an agonizing five seconds before returning triumphantly with lube and a condom.

‘Do you want a round of applause? Get the fuck on me.’ Michael snaps. He feels like he’s wound tighter than a soccer mom in a suburb whose daughter wants a tattoo. Alex just laughs and he gets to it. Michael was right, those fingers are really fucking talented.

Michael whines, legitimately whines, when Alex slips his first finger inside. He hasn’t done this in a while and the stretch burns just as deliciously as Michael remembers it. Alex seems to know exactly when to give Michael a second to breath, and when to add another finger, or curl them in the way that makes Michael curse and squirm. He has to tell Alex not to touch his dick, or he’ll cum before they can even get properly started.

‘Why are you still wearing pants? Come the fuck on Alex.’ Michael complains when he realizes he still hasn’t seen Alex’s dick. That’s just unfair. Here Michael is, all splayed out with his dick leaking all over the place like he’s seventeen again, whining and squirming. The least Alex can do is get naked. ‘Get with the program.’

‘You’re really bossy, aren’t you?’ Alex smirks as he pushes himself up to his feet. Michael misses his fingers immediately, but he reminds himself he’s going to get something better to replace them. He stares shamelessly as Alex strips off the rest of his clothes. He’s fucking gorgeous. All tanned skin and muscles and temptation. His dick is hard and just the right size. Michael can just feel he knows how to use it too. He should take a picture of him, even if it’s just to prove to himself he didn’t make this up. That this isn’t some exhaustion fuelled whiskey dream.

The sound of the packet of the condom being opened draws Michael back to the present. Alex uses his teeth, because of course he does. He rolls it on with a smooth move, that shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

‘Is that a problem?’ Michael asks, suddenly remembering Alex’s last comment. Alex smirks, spreading some lube over his dick before approaching.

‘Nah, I like a bossy bottom.’

‘Well that’s good, now get the fuck inside me already.’ Michael says. If he wants bossy, Michael can sure as fuck do bossy. He stays laying on his back, he likes missionary, sue him. Alex doesn’t seem to mind.

When Alex slides in Michael realizes two things. One. He needs to get fucked more often, because his toys back in Houston do not compare to this. And two. Alex really does know what he’s doing.

He gives Michael a few seconds to get used to the stretch a little. He’s hovering over him, seemingly without effort, even though Michael can see the muscles in his arms bulging. Just as Michael is about to tell him to get a move on, Alex moves.

He picks up a rhythm just on the right side of slow. It’s not sweet or anything like that, but it makes Michael’s toes curl and his breath stutter and the noises that he’s making aren’t ones he’s ever heard from his own mouth before. He wants this to last, he really does, but he also feels like he’s going to die if he doesn’t cum soon.

‘Alex.’ He moans. Alex seems to read his mind, again.

He pushes himself up, now kneeling on the bed so he can get his hand on Michael’s dick without crushing him or having to stop fucking him. The first stroke is almost enough to send Michael over the edge already. He wants to be good though, so he bites his lip, hard and holds on.

‘God fucking dammit.’ Alex curses, as Michael probably clenches around him. He sounds pretty close. The little furrow between his brows would be cute if Michael wasn’t so busy trying not to cum yet.

‘Shit, fucking- Alex. I’m gonna cum.’ He can feel his orgasm building in his stomach. It takes just a few more strokes before Michael topples over the edge and he swears he can see stars. That has to be in his top five orgasms of his life. He can feel it rippling through his whole body.

After just a few more thrusts, Alex follows him over the edge. Michael wants to remember what his face looks like, but he’s too busy trying to remember how to breath and also trying to remember how to move his limbs. He feels boneless and now that the tension of his building orgasm has disappeared, he feels the exhaustion come sweeping right back in.

‘God damn.’ Alex says. Michael will admit he’s a little proud of how wrecked Alex sounds.

‘Yeah.’ Michael agrees. He should go. He can sleep in his truck for a few hours, get back on the road at dawn. He doesn’t want to move though. Alex shifts next to him, but Michael doesn’t have the energy to check what he’s doing.

He doesn’t realize he’s drifting off until Alex getting up startles him. Alex disappears from the room, but reappears seconds later with a towel. He carefully, almost gently, wipes Michael’s cum off his chest. When he’s done he tosses the towel over his shoulder in a careless gesture that would have made Michael laugh had he not been so damn tired.

‘C’mon.’ Alex pokes him in the side.

‘Yeah, yeah, alright. I’m leaving.’ Michael ignores the twinge in his chest. He pushes himself up with great effort.

‘No, just get under the covers.’ Alex says and Michael’s tired brain has trouble processing that.

‘But-‘

‘Michael, you’re clearly exhausted. Get some sleep, you can leave tomorrow.’ Alex says, softly but firmly as he moves Michael under the covers and rounds the bed to flop into the bed on the other side. Michael tries to remember any arguments of why he shouldn��t, but the pillow is really soft and he’s well-fucked and sated and he’s really comfortable.

The next thing he remembers is waking up with Alex’s arms wrapped around him. He reads the time on an alarm clock that’s on the bedside table.

That succeeds in waking him up like a bucket of ice water being thrown over his head.

‘Fuck.’ He tries not to wake Alex, but as he slips from the bed, he can hear unhappy mumbles behind him. He’s trying to find his jeans, his underwear. Where the fuck did his shirt go.

‘You can take something of mine.’ Alex says, the sleepy croak in his voice shouldn’t make Michael want to crawl right back into bed, but it does.

‘I don’t want to-‘

‘It’s fine. You have to go meet your sister right, you should probably show up in a clean shirt.’ Alex rolls himself from the bed rather gracefully for how sleepy he still seems. Michael wants to declined, but his shirt (that he’s just located) smells awfully dodgy.

‘Alright, thanks.’ Alex, slips into some sweatpants before starting to dig through some drawers. He first throws a pair of boxers at Michael over his shoulder and then digs into another drawer. Michael refuses to feel embarrassed about the kind gesture. He hops into his jeans. Alex has turned around and is holding up two different shirts.

‘Alright, we’ve got two options here.’ He holds up the left higher. ‘This one, you could keep, I don’t really care.’ He holds up the other one. ‘This one, I want back.’

It takes him a second to realize what Alex is doing. It’s an offer. He supposes he could drive through Roswell again on his way back to Houston…

‘I’ll take that one.’ He points at the one on the right. Alex’s smile is blinding, and yeah, that seems like the right choice.

#malex #malex fic #malex au #sometimes i write things

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fritzllang · 5 years ago

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so! here’s the Vic/Eddie nobody asked for, featuring a road bar, some country music and even a couple of punches! thanks to @anticmiscellaney for giving me great ideas and editing my awful typos. hope you all enjoy

all the songs referenced are listed at the end

Don’t touch me, I’m a real live wire (Vic/Eddie, G, 3.6k)

“Uhhh… I’m bored as shit,” Eddie lets the pool cue fall from his hands onto the table as he speaks, and Vic gives him a raised eyebrow. They’ve been shooting pool for a couple hours now, but he’s noticed Eddie’s attention drifting away from the game for the past thirty minutes.

“Let’s go someplace,” Eddie insists.

Vic props himself up and nods obligingly, “Okay,“ he looks up for a moment, musing, and remembers there’s a place he’s been meaning to visit. “Let’s go to Bull’s Bar-B-Q.”

Eddie tenses up, only for a moment, but the gesture doesn’t escape Vic’s attention. He knows him, he can tell there’s something up, so he follows Eddie out of the room and down the stairs and waits for his answer.

“Nah, don’t feel like it,” Eddie says nonchalantly, “pick somewhere else.”

Vic squints his eyes. What is Eddie trying to hide from him? Is there something, someone at the bar he doesn’t want Vic to run into? “I wanna go to Bull’s.”

“Well I don’t,” there’s a tang of irritation in Eddie’s voice as he puts on a flashy yellow and blue polyester jacket, “so let’s go someplace else.”

Vic reaches to open the front door and smiles slowly, looking at Eddie with slightly raised eyebrows; he takes a bit of amusement in making Eddie nervous. And if there’s something he doesn’t want him to know about at the bar, then Vic’s going to find out.

“Well I’m going to Bull’s,” he takes his car keys out of his pocket and walks out into the driveway toward his Cadillac, “You’re welcome to come if you want.”

He knows Eddie will follow, and sure enough, he huffs loudly behind him, making a show out of his sulking as he gets into the car, “Vic, you’re impossible.”

In the way over Eddie turns the radio’s dial one way and the other every two minutes, doesn’t let a single song end before he’s changing stations. Every time it looks like he’s finally picked something to listen, his arm shoots out and he’s at it again. Eventually, Vic clicks his tongue irritated and reaches across to slap Eddie’s hand away.

“Leave the fucking thing alone, you’re getting on my nerves,” he glances at Eddie, and tries again to get an answer, “What is up with you?”

“Well for starters I don’t wanna go to that stupid cowboy bar of yours.”

Vic takes a long drag off his cigarette, peers at Eddie before answering, “Why not?”

“I don’t fucking feel like it,” Eddie drags the words out, like he’s trying to make a stubborn child come to reason. Vic doesn’t raise to the bait.

“Why not?”

“What the fuck does it matter why?” There’s a vein starting to swell in Eddie’s neck.

Vic shrugs indifferently, “Well I wanna go because I haven’t been there since I left the can. Nobody’s forcing you to come.”

Eddie throws up his arms out like that’s the most stupid thing he ever heard, “Oh, yes, I can just get out here in the middle of fucking nowhere and walk back home.”

“Just sayin’.”

They’re both dancing around the issue, pretending they don’t know there’s something Eddie’s not saying. Vic doesn’t push, just keeps driving until he sees the neon sign creep up behind some trees.

They pull up into a place on the side of the road with a big parking lot full of pick-up trucks and motorbikes. The blinking sign on the front displays the face of an angry bull with big red horns, along the name “BULL’S BAR-B-Q”. Vic parks the car and gets out, then comes around the back to open Eddie’s door with a grin. Eddie rolls his eyes, pouring sarcasm into every word as he speaks, “Who woulda thought, prison’s turn you into a real fucking gentleman.”

Vic ignores the acid in his voice as he follows him toward the door.

The room is crowded, dimly lit with fake orange kerosene lamps on the tables and neon signs on the wall with the names of beer brands. Gang bikers in leather vests mumble among each other in the dark corner tables, and men dressed in cowboy outfits take their girls out to dance on the open floor by one side, where a young man who’d made a great Waylon Jennings softly sings …Someday when we meet up yonder, we’ll stroll hand in hand again… if some cowboys hug one another and start dancing together, nobody seems to notice.

As soon as they’re inside Vic notices Eddie’s attempt to be subtle about the way he’s giving the whole place a glance, stretching his neck and looking left and right. Vic sneaks closer in silence until he’s perching over his shoulder and whispers quietly on his ear, “See a table you like, Eddie?”

Eddie jumps startled and shoots back a glare at Vic, slowly blinking, “Do not fucking do that to me Toothpick.”

Vic can’t help a low chuckle as he settles a hand on Eddie’s neck and squeezes softly, “Why you so hot under the collar, huh?”

Eddie seems to be satisfied with his survey of the place, because he shrugs away, turns around and sits down on the first table that he finds available, immediately signaling for a waitress. They order beer and start drinking in silence, and soon he seems to unwind, losing his nervous edge, and they even manage to have a conversation about Waylon Jennings’ 70s transition from dapper genteel cowboy to scruffy, brash outlaw without barking at each other.

Vic is saying, “He peaked right after he changed his looks, nothing tops Dreaming My Dreams,” he starts singing quietly, “I’ve been a fool, I’ve been a fool, forgiving you each time that you’ve done me wrong…”

Eddie makes a dismissive gesture, “Yeah, but what about Ruby, Don’t Take Your Love To Town? That’s a country classic.

“Yeah, but that Nashville sound shit is so impersonal, he was just doing what everybody else was doing. The other stuff is raw and unique, he’s singing about his struggles in life” he tries to take a swig of his beer before realizing it’s empty, “He looked hotter in the sixties, though… when he sang Your love scares me to death girl, it’s the chokin’ kind…,” he purrs, and gives Eddie a wink.

Just then the bar’s band wraps up a song, and after a brief applause the singer starts crooning and strumming his guitar, “The only two things in life that make it worth livin’…”

Eddie chuckles, “Well, speaking of the devil.”

Eddie’s laughter and the stupid conversation makes Vic remember how much he missed having fun with him while he was in jail, and suddenly he doesn’t care too much about whatever crap he was hiding anymore; it was probably just Eddie’s usual bullshit, he must have been caught cheating at cards or something like that. And Vic’s been giving him shit all night for it. He looks up Eddie sideways, smiling smugly.

“Hey, you wanna dance?” he could swear he sees Eddie blushing a little, but maybe that’s just the beer.

“What am I, your girlfriend?” Eddie says with exaggerated offence, and Vic tilts his head and scratches his brow like he’s seriously considering the question. Eddie huffs, “Nah, you go.”

“Your loss,” Vic grins and stands up and moves toward the dance floor with swaggering steps.

Vic dances alone for the duration of half a song until a young redheaded girl in a denim skirt approaches him with a grin.

“Hey stranger, you wanna dance?” she has a chirpy voice and a soft southern accent. Vic offers her his hand and his most charming smile.

“Sure, sweetheart.”

She takes his hand and places the other on his shoulder, coming nearer but not quite touching him; Vic doesn’t close the distance but rests his arm around her waist when they start moving to the music.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” Vic is a head taller than her, so he has to tilt down his head to look at her eyes.

“Is it obvious?” She’s the kind of girl that smiles with her whole face and voice, and she’s cute, too, but Vic doesn’t really care about it, he’s just dancing with her to make Eddie a bit jealous.

“I’m from Kentucky,“ she continues, "but I moved out here because I wanna be an actress.”

He shoots a glance at their table and can’t repress a smile; Eddie is looking at him with an angry expression, mindlessly turning one of his golden rings in his finger. Just as he wanted.

Vic turns his full attention to the girl again, “An actress, huh? How’s that working out for you?” If he’s gonna make Eddie jealous at least he’s gonna enjoy himself.

They dance around for a couple of songs, talking about the weather in Lexington and the traffic in LA, until Vic looks up again to watch Eddie. But he’s not looking back; instead, he’s sitting on the edge of his seat with a tense stance, looking at the man sitting by his side and trying to put as much distance as possible between them. Vic furrows his brows and lets go of the girls hands without peeling his eyes from the table.

“‘M sorry, sweetie, my friend’s calling me.” He doesn’t see the disappointed look on the girls face, but hears her voice as he walks away.

“Oh, well… okay, it was nice meeting ya’.”

He circles tables and shoves people out of his way with his eyes fixed on Eddie and his companion. He seems like a really big man even seated, bigger than Vic, with broad shoulders and hairy arms resting on top of the table. His cowboy hat keeps his face in the shadows so Vic hasn’t yet seen his face when he stands near the table, interrupting whatever the man was whispering to Eddie.

“I don’t think I know you.”

Eddie looks up alarmed, eyes wide and face twisted with something very close to fear. Vic squints his eyes, confused, and then he looks at the man for the first time. He’s got a broad face, with a dimple on the chin, high cheekbones and a perfectly straight, pointy nose; his eyes are dark as the curly strand of hair that falls from under the hat in the middle of his forehead. He is handsome, and that makes Vic’s gut squirm with anger.

The man chews on a gum slowly, giving Vic a disinterested look up and down before speaking up, "I don’t think I know you.”

Vic chuckles like he finds the answer remotely funny, but he won’t be intimidated by some rowdy rancher. The stranger keeps a straight face.

“I’ll rephrase…,” Vic says, “who the fuck are you?”

Now the man does laugh, a low chuckle as he swings his arm up and around Eddie, resting his hand on his shoulder. “I’m a friend of Eddie’s. Sal’s the name.”

Vic shoots up his brows in surprise at the friendly gesture. He wants to know exactly what the fuck is up with this guy and his eyes go to Eddie in search for an answer, but Eddie’s just standing still, paralyzed and shooting nervous glances between Vic and Sal.

Vic gives the guy a friendly smile now, “Well, Sal, me and Eddie were having a good night, so why don’t you go fuck off,” he makes a swiping gesture with a hand and widens his grin.

“Vic-,” Eddie makes an attempt to intervene but Sal interrupts him.

“Nah, I don’t think I will,” The man reclines his chair back, balancing himself in the back legs with a smug grin on his face and looking like an absolute asshole, “You see, Eddie and I have been very good friends for… what, two years now?” Vic’s muscles tense listening to him, but he lets Sal continue speaking. “And I’ve never seen you so I think you’re the one who should split.” He draws up his thumb from Eddie’s shoulder to stroke his face, which prompts a cringe from him.

"Don’t fucking touch me,” Eddie snarls.

“Now Eddie,” Sal clicks his tongue and uses a chastising tone, “you weren’t saying that the last time I saw you.”

And that does it for Vic, who falls down into a chair next to the man and with a smooth motion grabs him by the collar and gets really close. With his other hand he pulls up the leg of his jeans, trying to draw his blade out of his boot.

“Buddy, if you don’t let go of him right now I will-” he feels a sharp pressure on his stomach and recognizes the shape of a gun’s barrel. His reacts with a surprised laughter, but even he can tell when the odds are really tipping against him, so he opens his left hand to let go of the cuff oh his pants..

“C'mon pal, I don’t think there’s anything that interesting down your boot. Hands where I can see ‘em.”

Vic clicks his tongue and obliges, releasing his collar and drawing up both palms slowly over the table. Sal takes the opportunity to bring Eddie closer and stand up, forcing the other man to get up with him. Vic doesn’t miss a beat and gets on his feet too, hands still up, pressing his chest forward into the gun with a smile on his face. Sal stands tall and strong, a few inches over him, big enough to scare anybody with a hint of common sense. But Vic doesn’t scare easy.

“If you take one single step I’ll break your neck,” he threatens calmly.

Sal’s face hardens as he tightens his grip on the gun, “I don’t think you wanna play this game, pal.”

“Oh, I wanna play,” Vic speaks slowly, “You wanna shoot me?” he points at his own chest with his hands, amused, “C'mon, tough cowboy, shoot me.”

“Vic…” Eddie starts speaking.

“Shut up Eddie,” Vic doesn’t need Eddie getting in the way, the whole fucking point of this is to get this guy away from him, “you, why don’t you pull the trigger if you’re such a tough boy, huh?”

“Vic, fucking stop it.” Eddie’s hurls through closed teeth; Vic can see his face starting to redden from the tension and anger bubbling up in him, but Sal still has an arm around his shoulder, gripping him tightly.

“Cmon.” Vic spurs again, speaking lower and pressing forward, and for a moment he thinks he might have to start throwing punches to get a reaction from the man, but Sal seems to be thinking better of it already; starts releasing the pressure from the gun, drawing it backwards slowly to place it in his hip holster again.

Vic grins, tilting his face up with arrogance, “That’s what I thought…”

The hand around Eddie’s shoulder relaxes, and Sal takes a slow step back as he squints, “I’ll be seeing you, Vic…”

“Yeah, I hope so.”

The man walks backwards slowly, keeping his eyes on Vic until he disappears among the people of the bar.

Vic exhales slowly, distensing his body for the first time in a while. He isn’t sure what the hell just happened, but he knows two things: he wants to kill this Sal guy, and he is very, very pissed at Eddie. He turns to glare at him with eyes cold and angry; unlike himself, Eddie has not relaxed at all.

“Vic…”

“Now who the fuck was that?“

"Vic, I can…”

“Let’s get out of here.” Vic starts circling the table toward Eddie as he gets a few crumpled bills from his pocket, throws them among the beer bottles without trying to count them, then he grabs Eddie by the arm and starts walking fast toward the door.

“Hey!” Eddie yanks his hand away hard, but still matches Vic’s walking pace. “I swear to fucking God, if someone else grabs me again tonight.”

“Oh yeah?” Vic turns to confront Eddie, crowding him, but he still speaks slowly “Is there someone else who’s gonna come take you for a dance, huh? Any other guys I oughta know about?” Vic chest feels like it’s on fire, and he thinks if Eddie gives him any more shit it might be his breaking point tonight.

But Eddie looks back at him like he’s gonna start shooting sparks out of his eyes any moment, “You know very damn well that’s not what I meant, you fucking nutcase,” he walks around Vic out the door and Vic follows behind.

Eddie crosses the parking lot in a few long paces and gets immediately in the passenger seat of the car, closing the door. Vic could get in the car, drive away and act as if that guy didn’t just threaten to kill him and got away with it; it’s probably the best thing he could do, considering he’s still on parole. But he doesn’t move toward the car’s door, instead, he approaches Eddie’s window and gives the glass a light tap. Eddie rolls his eyes as he rolls down the glass.

“What?!”

Vic perches himself on the window, points at Eddie with his finger, “Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

“Have you ever heard the phrase ‘don’t bring a knife to a gunfight’, you moron?” Eddie’s squinting his eyes like he can’t believe Vic would be so stupid, but he doesn’t take offence, “Get back in the car!”

Vic is already standing up and walking toward the bar.

As soon as he gets in he starts scanning the place methodically, with a sharp look on his eyes as he walks along one wall so he never loses sight of the whole room; the guy is nowhere to be found. He makes his way to the bathrooms and inspects them too, with no luck. He closes a fist in frustration before walking back outside. When the chill night air hits him he takes a slow breath, brings his arms to his hips and gives the parking lot a glance, too; maybe the idiot is staying behind in his car waiting for Vic to break his face.

When Vic sees him he can’t believe his eyes. Sal is perching over Vic’s own Cadillac’s window, his hat hanging from his neck and thrown over his upper back, in the same posture Vic was not five minutes ago, speaking with Eddie and giving his back to the bar’s door. He might be big and good looking, Vic thinks, but the man sure ain’t the sharpest fella.

Vic approaches slowly from behind, stealthily, and when he’s close enough he brings his right hand back, taking impulse for a moment before swinging it forward with full force and an open palm towards Sal’s head; as soon as he comes in contact he grabs the hair and shoves him face first towards the car door. The knock of metal against forehead makes a loud thud.

“Shit!” Eddie pulls back, taken by surprise.

Vic uses the moment of confusion to take Sal’s gun from his holster, then stands back and throws it toward one end of the parking lot over the roofs of the cars; when he turns back around Sal’s already recovering, left fist up in front of his face while he swings the right. A cold punch lands on Vic’s jaw, another on his sternum. He stagers back for a moment, struggling to breath, but regains his balance quickly. He lets out a sigh and grins.

“So you can hit too, huh?”

He takes one step back to gain momentum, then throws himself with full force toward Sal’s waist, knocking him on his back with Vic on top of him. He scrambles up, grabs the man’s hair again and yanks upward, then back down, hitting the crown of his head against the hard pavement. He does it again. Sal grabs his shirt and pushes back, trying to get him off, but Vic’s got him pinned to the ground, resting his full weight on his ribs, the man almost unable to breath. Vic lets go of his hair and throws a punch to the eye, the jaw, the nose, starting to breath heavily himself. For the first time, he’s vaguely aware of Eddie’s amused howling and laughing through the car’s window.

“Heh, he sure didn’t see that comin’,” he taps the door of the car with a pleased grin, “Cmon, that’s enough, you’re gonna kill him.”

But Vic hasn’t had enough. He reaches for the razor in his boot, panting slightly from the strain of the fight, and opens it carefully, then brings the blade to the man’s face, resting it flat on his cheek. Sal’s face is smeared with blood from his nose and the open cuts in his brown and cheek, and he is gasping for air. Vic moves his face closer, his lips almost touching the other’s ear, and he whispers.

“If I ever see you again I’m gonna give your pretty face a fix-up,” he tilts his face sightly sideway to look him in the eye, “You want that, huh?”

Sal shakes his head faintly, keeping his eyes on Vic’s, but he doesn’t speak.

“Yeah, ’s what a thought.” He gives him a last grin and finally gets up, brushing one hand back through his messed up hair; with the other he closes the blade by pressing the blunt edge against one leg.

He walks around the car and gets in the driver’s seat, immediately puts in the key and starts the ignition, then maneuvers out of the parking lot without giving even one last glance to the man still lying on the pavement. Eddie’s giggling dies away as he sees Vic’s livid expression, and Vic’s glad because he doesn’t want Eddie to think for a moment that he’s off the hook.

“You have a lot of explainin’ to do.”

“Yeah, I guess I do, huh…”

As they drive back to the house Vic steals a glance to his right; even in the darkness of the road he can make out the younger man’s frown, his lower lip between his teeth. Vic wonders if Eddie missed him too.

***

1. yes they did have hot angry sex later.

2. also in case you read my posts where i detail my writing struggles yes Rock Hudson was my reference for Sal

3. Songs in the fic:

Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain by Willie Nelson

I’ve Been A Long Time Leaving (But I’ll Be A Long Time Gone) by Waylon Jennings

The Chokin’ Kind by Waylon Jennings

Luckenbach, Texas (Back To The Basics Of Love) by Waylon Jennings & Willie Nelson

title of the fic comes Psycho Killer by The Talking Heads

#toothpick bitchslap #vic/eddie #ficlet #fic #my writing #reservoir dogs #vic vega #nice guy eddie #mr blonde #blonde/eddie

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aidenoconnorx · 5 years ago

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-- Hey is that [CHRIS WOOD]? No, that’s just [AIDEN O'CONNOR]. They’re [THIRTY-ONE], and have spent [TWO YEARS] in Dayton. I hear that they’re kind of [PASSIONATE], but also [SECRETIVE]. Did you hear their vices are [ADRENALINE & ADVENTURE]? Can’t wait to see [HE] at the next party!

warning: mentions of abuse, cigarette burns, neglect, bullying

full name: aiden cian o’connor

nickname:

age: thirty-one

date of birth: august 15

place of birth: nowhere, ky

zodiac: leo

gender: cis-male

nationality: american

sexual orientation: pansexual

romantic orientation: panromantic

relationship status: single *

PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES.

height: 6”0’

weight: 172 lbs

hair color: brunette

eye color: blue

need glasses/contacts? yes

tattoos: Northstar tattoo on his left shoulder blade and a few smaller ones to cover up cigarette burns. Plans on getting another to conceal the one at the nape of his neck

distinguishing marks: cigarette burns on the nape of his neck, usually hidden by scraggly hair

BACKGROUND INFORMATION.

hometown: nowhere, ky

current residence: dayton, ca

past residences: none but has temporarily stayed in several

living arrangement: apartment

spoken languages: english

financial status: just came into some money through his career

education level: some high school, dropped out but got his ged

occupation: author || blogger

FAMILIAL INFORMATION.

father: wade meadows. 58. doesn’t know where he is/how he’s doing and doesn’t care.

mother: farrah meadows. 56. that’s more complicated.

siblings: sister ( 23 ) and a younger brother & sister ( twins, 21 )

children: none

pets? a hedgehog named elton

other: liam o’connor. psuedo father, deceased.

PERSONALITY.

positive traits: energetic. outgoing. adventurous. helpful.

negative traits: secretive. rowdy. dramatic. reckless.

likes: dogs. sunny weather. playing music. comics. trash tv (jerry springer, toddlers & tiaras, etc). drag queens (ru paul’s drag race). jogging in the rain. trying new things. talking to people. reading. volunteering. writing. wandering. kids. whiskey

dislikes: being alone too long. feeling ‘stiff’. awkward silence. being pigeon holed. bigots. blue pens. shaving. the cold. political movies. rooms without windows. shrimp. sweet potatoes. spiders. scratchy fabrics. douche bags. sharing his writing. too much tech ( has a flip phone and a cruddy laptop)

quirks: drums on everything. laughs at his own jokes. easily cold. talks to himself when trying to figure something out. always has change in his or her pocket to give to beggars or homeless. takes stupid bets/dares for small amounts of money. cosplays once or twice a year for charity/children’s ward. takes sleeping pills. good at card tricks.

moral alignment: chaotic good

Aiden’ a very outgoing guy. He’s always looking to meet new people and forge new connections. He was on his own a lot in the beginning of his life and he’s never really liked the feeling, despite what he says, so he makes it a mission to interact with the people around him. He’s easy going, easy to talk to and having been in Dayton about two years or so he’s bound to have plenty of acquaintances. He has several close friends too, but not many that know his whole story. Over the years he’s crafted that ‘I-feel-like-I-have-known-you-forever’ charm without really having to go too deep. One or two really close friends would be great though.

Aiden's typically positive, even when he’s not, he doesn’t have much of a personal bubble concept, and he isn’t the most tactful. He’s bound to piss some people off. He’s usually pretty oblivious to it, so you have to spell it out for him. And that’s fine.He’ll apologize, if he knows he was wrong, and really, he doesn’t try to offend or bother anyone. Most of the time. He’s old enough to know you can’t get along with everyone. He won’t try to change your mind, but won’t go out of his way to avoid you, either. it’s a waste of time. He does get along with most though. He’s protective, having raised his siblings he’s got that older brother vibe always. He ain’t afraid to get gritty, and he’s pretty equipped when it comes to life skills. Need your plumbing looked at? He’s got you. Need a meal? Got you there too. Car fixed? Bring it. Hair braided? Hell yeah. He’s a jack of all trades, but his main one is writing. It’s something he keeps close to his vest, but his mentor/father figure got it on an agent’s desk about four years ago and well-- he actually got published. It was a game changer. But he’s still super private about it.

As for love, Aiden has never really been in love. He’s had crushes, yes. Relationships, yes. But he’s never told anyone he’s been ‘in love’ with them. It’s a serious thing to him, it carries immense weight, so he doesn’t plan on saying it unless he’s sure he means it. He’s up for anything else though. One nighters, dates, flings, fwb, whatever with whoever. If you can get past his constant flirting and somewhat obnoxiousness, he can be a really sweet guy. He takes care of who he’s with and he isn’t afraid of exclusivity. He been in more than a few relationships (some good, some bad) back in Kentucky and a maybe one or two since coming to Dayton. It’s a good feeling, but it doesn’t define him.

THE RUN DOWN.

CHILDHOOD; there’s no reason to specify where aiden grew up in Kentucky. you won’t find it on a map and he likes it that way. his childhood isn’t important either. it’s not something he prefers to talk about and if asked he’s very vague about it. he might even lie about it, but the truth is, it wasn’t happy one and the cigarette burns on the nape of his neck and shoulder (these are covered) are proof enough.

ADOLESCENCE; at eleven, his parents defected to god knows where. it left him, his three siblings, ages three and barely two. he missed three days of school trying to take care of them on what they had. his mother waltz in on the fourth as if nothing happened. it was a teacher of he confided in, one he stayed close to for years after. but defax didn’t exactly care. it was the first of many disappearances. sometimes it was a day, sometimes more. It was something he grew used to and by the time he was in middle school, he had surrendered to the fact he was the parent in this scenario. he had a hard time keeping up in high school. he was missing school to work under the table jobs and when he was at school, fights broke out and after about the fourth one, his teacher was done. they had a big blow out...making aiden realize his pride wasn’t worth it. he buckled down and leaned in to what his teacher was saying. without going into too many details, aiden began to flourish. his sullen and quiet demeanor shifted into the laughter and curiosity he once had. his grades improved and yeah, he was still picked at but the fighting stopped. it was like a page out of a fairy tale for him and he embraced it, wholeheartedly, no questions asked.

TWENTIES; unfortunately he didn’t make it through high school. he had to work, but he had o’connor’s support. he helped him study for his GED on the side and helped him as much as he could with his siblings. Things weren’t amazing, but they were manageable. They survived and unlike him, his siblings stayed in school. He’d kill’em if they didn’t. He worked his ass off to get them through and in the little time he wasn’t? He wrote. He poured anything and everything he heard, felt, and experienced into journal upon journal. It cathartic mostly, but just as his little sister graduated high school, O’Connor managed to get one on the desk of an agent. How? He refused to say, the next week the agent was on Aiden’s door step, ready to change his life. Four years ago, he was published under a pen name and since then life has been smoother. the cash flow helped his siblings and by the time they were all comfortable in college, Aiden began to travel and live the life he’d always dreamed of.

THIRTIES; He hopped from place to place, living on the bare minimums to get a full experience. Writing it all down as he jumped outta planes, tried different local food-- just trying new things. By the time he reached Dayton, his agent was begging for something new too. His blogging and the mysteriousness around him as an anonymous author was fading. He needed something new so he settled. He didn’t intend to stay but-- in a thriving place like Dayton, a place without restriction and full of endless sins and passion? How could he not? It’s done wonders for his muse while still feeding his adrenaline fix. What’s not to like?

#reallife.intro #::|| bio ||::#::|| headcanon ||::

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creativerogues · 5 years ago

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Campaign Diary #5: The Journey Home...

RECAP!

When we last left our Heroes, they were resting within the Forests of Valdor, after a failed attempt to slay the Local Green Dragon by the name of Danae, the Deathlady.

This Session begins with the Party waking to their new priority, resurrecting the Party’s Tabaxi Bard, Foot.

Campaign Diary #5: ‘Operation: Fuzzy Rising’...

The Session begins at dawn, with Hard Hat ritual casting his Phantom Steed Spell twice to create two shadowy mounts for the Group to ride until they reach whatever town or city is nearby.

Hard Hat’s Player even notes that he could've done it last night, since Ritual Casting does not use up a Spell Slot, he just forgot about that during the Session… Whoops!

So the Party (who slept next to the dead body of their Bard Friend! Just... So you know...) packs everything up, and Kentucky takes the body of Foot the Tabaxi Bard and decides to carry it across his shoulders, which I ruled as Kentucky 'technically carrying’ Foot, since Foot's dead body could technically be considered an object for the purposes of the amount of people the phantom steeds could carry…

I know, I'm too kind…

So with that, Hard Hat and Potosh take one Phantom Steed, and Kentucky (carrying Foot) takes the other; with Whinny, the Kenku Rogue currently frozen thanks to a Spell Scroll gone awry, put on Kentucky's Phantom Steed.

So with about 30 Minutes of the Phantom Steeds left, Hard Hat casts See Invisibility on himself (covering his face with talc and powdered silver in the process), just so he can keep an eye out for any Invisible Green Dragons that just so happen to be nearby…

And the Party is off! Travelling about 5 Miles by Phantom Steed and out of the Region of Danae’s Lair, with Potosh navigating them and Hard Hat keeping an eye on the skies…

And Kentucky carrying two bodies: But only one is dead, so… yay?

So with that done, and the Party now (still) in the Forests of Valdor (albeit in a less dragon-filled domain), they had a lot of issues to fix, the main two being the frozen Rogue and the Dead Bard currently strapped to the Barbarian's back…

There’s also the issue of the Giant Green Dragon... And Potosh’s Pet Bear, who is currently strewn across Danae’s Cavern Lair, but that’s probably for another time…

The Party travels for a while by Phantom Steed, resting while Hard Hat ritual casts Phantom Steed over and over, with Kentucky taking flight and scouting the Local Area in the hopes of finding a small town or city.

And they do! Huzzah!

Kentucky spots a small town to the south-east and notes that there seems to be a Church there, though it seems a little run-down…

And with the Short Rest over, the Group gets back on their Phantom Steeds and travels towards this town in the middle of nowhere...

As the approach, they see large wooden spikes impaled into the ground to form a fence, though they seem a little battered from previous incursions of the Green Dragon variety...

They go in on foot (rather than Phantom Steed) and walk up to the small Church to see if a Cleric is there.

But when they walk in, they find that the town has turned this old and tiny church into a makeshift tavern and inn, barely surviving in the middle of nowhere, with most people passing through as they moved west over the mountains.

The Party starts to lose hope, with the Bartender telling them to leave (because they did just drag in the stinking and rotting corpse of a Tabaxi Bard with them…) and as they turn to leave and exit, they're followed by an individual.

As Hard Hat begins to cast the Tiny Hut on the outside of town for the Party to rest in, they're approached by a battered, tired old half-orc woman in old and tattered clothes, and struggling to stand on her own two feet, using a wooden stick like a crutch.

She introduces herself as Agn-is Thrak (or Thrak as the Party called her), and she says she can help raise their Friend, as they seemed lost and tired without him, though she requests payment in the form of a favour.

These guys are just racking up favours with NPCs now… But I’m not complaining...

She tells the Party to follow her into the woods outside of town, and she begins to ask the Party questions about Foot as they travel, asking if Foot was a good man, how long ago he died, and if he had any unfinished business...

By the time they get to where Thrak wants them, she asks the Party to sit cross-legged in a circle around Foot's Body, and think about Foot and the life he had as she begins her ritual.

She then asks if the Party has the massive amount of diamonds necessary to cast the Spell, and when they say that they're practically penniless, Thrak takes pity and opens up her pack to reveal a small wooden chest, and upon opening it, the Party sees a small fortune's worth of diamonds, a good thousand gold or more of the stuff.

Thrak then takes a deep breath and a handful of diamonds from her wooden chest, and begins to sprinkle them across Foot's Body as she mutters some strange words in both Orcish and Celestial.

And the Party waits for a moment as the diamonds lay there on Foot's Body, and individually, each diamond cracks and shatters of it's own accord, becoming a fine dust that seeps into the wounds of Foot's Body and begins to undo the decay from the past week or so Foot has been decomposing.

Foot's Body looks as good as the day he died now, and with that, Foot's eyes open slowly, as if someone waking up from a deep sleep.

Foot sits up, then stands, and the rest of the Party stands up, as Thrak embraces Foot and welcomes him back into the World of the living.

HURRAY! Foot is back!

And as the Party reunites, albeit with a still frozen Kenku Rogue, Thrak asks for her favour to be paid immediately...

Just a tad bit awkward...

The Party does, of course, accept and asks what she wants, and initially she says that she just doesn't want to feel tired anymore, she wants to be able to disappear without anyone trying to find her.

Hard Hat comes up with a few ideas while the rest of the Party is still celebrating having their Bard back, with Foot being obviously confused as to what the heck is happening right now...

A Potion or Scroll of some sort to make her undetectable by any means, or some kind of Magic Item to make someone more resistant to the effects of Exhaustion or Fatigue.

Hard Hat then realises he has some contacts, and decides to cast Sending to Kenzo, the Wood Elf Rogue and fledgling Guild-Master to the Thieves Guild she's creating in the Capitol City, with Hard Hat asking if Kenzo could find any kind of Magical Items that could make someone unable to be found or physically change someone's appearance: Kenzo being an Expert Rogue and all...

Kenzo replies and says it might take her a while, but she could get what she thinks they need, and tells Hard Hat to meet her outside the Capitol to make the hand off and payment.

Hard Hat relays this to the Group, and together they decide that taking their Ship (the one they left up north) is probably their best bet, but none of them want to travel through Danae's Domain again, and so choose to travel through the Himmelblas Mountains.

Hard Hat then asks Thrak is she's willing to travel with them to gain her payment, and she accepts, because why wouldn't she?

Hard Hat, the curious little tortle that he is, then asks if anyone in the Party might know of someone in the Silver Charge Mercenary Company, the Mercenaries for Hire that work around the Himmelblas.

Kentucky says he remembers a fella, a big ol' Minotaur that stayed in Coppiborough before going back down South.

Hard Hat then sends a message to this big ol' Minotaur fella within the Silver Charge, asking him to meet the Party on the highest peak of the southern himmelblas and escort them back up north in exchange for coin.

And he receives a reply, a deep and gruff voice saying that the Party should meet him on the peak for sun-down, and he and his group will escort them north at a price of one gold piece each, per person per day.

Kentucky then butts in to say he and Potosh will go scout out the peak, and Potosh wildshapes into a Squirrel, with Kentucky picking him up and the two going about scouting the area for a safe place on the highest peak in the area, where they're not likely to be seen by any wandering monsters...

They find a spot and fly back to Hard Hat and the now resurrected Foot, and relay to everyone the point they should meet at.

Then Kentucky and Potosh make their way ahead while Hard Hat casts his Phantom Steed Ritual yet again. Kentucky flying off overhead while Potosh rides on Kentucky's back in the form of an extra fluffy cat, with massive claws digging into Kentucky "just in case"...

Do cats like heights?

Kentucky and Potosh get to the meeting point, and Foot, Hard Hat (who now has a frozen Whinny the Rogue strapped to his shell with rope) and Thrak the Half-Orc following behind, all meet at the point, Hard Hat casting the Tiny Hut to keep everyone warm while they wait.

As dusk comes, the sun sets, and the Party is still waiting, with Hard Hat passing the time by apologising profusely to Foot for casting the Spell that killed him, explaining how he was charmed by Danae and would've helped the Party if he could have...

The Party continues to chat, with Thrak saying that no good man intends to cause consequences, and Hard Hat is a good man.

This is until they hear a voice shout for a Magic-User.

Hard Hat pops out his head to see, strangely enough, another Tortle!

And behind this Tortle stands a seven foot tall Minotaur, and a noticeably shorter Human Man in arcane attire.

The first thing the three do is ask if the Party can pay, and the Party manages to convince these Silver Charge Members that they can indeed pay them despite having no funds right now…

The three Silver Charge Members then request that everyone sleeps here until morning, where they'll escort the Party north, reaching the Northernmost Part of the Valdorian Side of the Himmelblas in about a week or two...

The Human Wizard (who the Party hasn't even asked his name yet...) then casts a very familiar Tiny Hut, but this version seems to be a deep blue and white, and sparkles with glints of some kind of metallic substance.

The three Silver Charge Members then climb into their own Tiny Hut as everyone gets ready for a sleepover on a mountaintop...

And so the session ends with what is now a Party of Nine! Count them... NINE! With a Elderly Female Half-Orc Paladin and three Silver Charge Members waiting to ride out north at dawn...

Are the Party ever going to get revenge on Danae? Maybe....

But who cares! That’s help out this one NPC!

#campaign diary #dnd #DnD 5e #creativerogues

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californiadreaminghq · 5 years ago

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Oh good, you made it!

Did you guys know Jolie was coming? She brought Marina Lee, The Desperado! And just on time! Grab a drink, find a spot, and make sure you finish everything on the checklist. The band is just getting started – you have 24 hours to send in your account! We’re so glad you’re here!

I. OUT OF THE STUDIO

NAME/ALIAS: jolie / jo / whatever the hell you want to call me (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ・: *

AGE: 21

PRONOUNS: she/her

II. ON STAGE

DESIRED SKELETON: The Desperado

NAME: Marina Lee

NICKNAMES: Rin, Rina, Rini, + Mari (If you address her by any of her nicknames, you better damn well be a friend)

FACE CLAIM: Zoe Kravitz / Indya Moore / Zoe Saldana

AGE: 25-29 (I left this open for y’all to decide!)

OCCUPATION: Being the motherfucking Disco Queen

III. INTERVIEW

Answer the following questions in your character’s voice:

If you could do anything in the world for a living, what would it be?

“Oh, honey. Did you write these questions? They’re quite terrible but keep on truckin’, baby. But, wholeheartedly? This. I’d be doing this. Wouldn’t change it for the world. I love what I goddamn do. I love my fans, my team ━ the support from everyone has been out of this fucking world. I get to have a career in music ━ how many people can truly say that? It may not always be glitz and glam ━ a lot of smoke and mirrors but it’s real. Raw. Indescribable. I’m lucky to be where I am.”

If you could travel anywhere, where would you go?

“I’ve been everywhere, baby. Italy, England, Poland, Greece, France. But the place that’s always stuck with me? Tokyo, Japan. Life-changing. Talk about a culture shock. I’m from a small town in Kentucky. You think we get to see this shit every day?”

What is one thing that makes you different than anyone else?

“My talent. Excuse my forwardness but no one is doing what I’m doing for this industry. I’m single handedly shaping disco. Now, you can roll your eyes at me. Think I’m some egotistical tramp. But it’s true ━ the tabloids know it. My fans know it. Shit, even Billy Pepper knows it. It’s why he signed me ━ I had more than enough potential. Don’t like how I hold myself in high regards? Then don’t listen to my music, baby.”

IV. BACKSTAGE

You grew up in a middle-class, over-the-top Catholic household in Bumblefuck, Kentucky, where venom-induced syllables and harsh blows to the side of your skull was considered “positive reinforcement”. Tears often stained the flesh of your cheeks. You were never good enough. Never smart enough. Never… pretty enough. Everything you did was seemingly fucking wrong. How could you have expected anything different? You weren’t the daughter your parents had prayed for. You tried, but you never succeeded. You were too much of your own person, for fucks sake. Too loud. Too gritty. Spoke what was on your mind. Stood for what you believed in. Hell, it was unacceptable ━ especially in a town as modest as your own. So, every time your father’s hand came into contact with your cheek, a little piece of you died. Sadness turned into anger. Anger turned into defiance. Defiance turned into… inspiration. Your skirts got a little shorter. Your mouth got a little more… valiant. You reeked of bourbon, one-night stands, and feel-good music. Bruises may have lined your flesh and your father may have hoped that God would save you, but for the first time in a long time, you felt liberated. Happy.

(Note: A few years later) You started out in basements. It wasn’t much but you simply didn’t mind. As long as you were able to sing, you didn’t care where you were performing ━ How fucking liberating was that? But as the audiences grew larger and more interested in what you had to offer, you realized how goddamn talented you truly were and something inside of you altered. All of these people? Cheering for you? Praising your entire being and the sound of your voice? Fucking life-changing. Fuck your part-time waitressing job at some shitty, run-down diner. You wanted something more out of this life. Craved it. No, needed it. So, when a Fusetone representative mysteriously ended up at one of your gigs, in the middle of absolutely nowhere, you could feel yourself losing touch with reality. “You know,” they had said, “I’ve had my eye on you, Marina ━ Billy’s impressed.” Billy fucking Pepper? Impressed with you? Yeah, your body went numb. There was no way you were being signed by Fusetone ━ one of the biggest goddamn labels known to man.

But oh, you were so wrong, Rin. Because when they had flown you out to LA for a few recording sessions, they practically had dollar signs in their eyes. Billy Pepper knew what you were capable of. What you would be able to do for his label. For the music industry and everything in between. So you moved out to LA in a haste manner, barely crossing your t’s and dotting your i’s. You signed a deal without reading in between the lines and yes, it may have not been your brightest moment. But it was fucking uncanny how quickly you rose to stardom. The tabloids couldn’t get enough of you ━ Who is the Disco Queen sleeping with now? Sources say [The Gold Dust], Billy Pepper’s son/daughter! Marina Lee on drugs? Turn to page 21 to find out! Paparazzi had no goddamn boundaries ━ trailed you at home. Restaurants. Clubs. For a while, you felt like you couldn’t… breathe. Fame was beginning to eat away at you in the worst fucking way possible and the more you grew, the deeper your anxieties buried themselves within your bones. Maybe you shouldn’t have jumped into this so fast ━ so bare, so open. You were just a small town girl, afterall. Nothing could have prepared you for this and hell, you’re starting to realize that nothing will ever be enough for you. You’re on the verge of being a fucking disco legend but with the crowds you’re hanging out with and the drugs you’re consuming at 3 A.M. at some hole-in-the-wall club, you’re beginning to “burn the candle at both ends, all while trying to keep up with your dreams”.

V. ENCORE

BASICS

DOB: May 20th

GENDER: Cis-female

LANGUAGES SPOKEN: English + broken French

FAMILY TIES: Venus Wilson (mother: deceased), Colin Wilson (father), + Charli Wilson (younger sister) - Marina doesn’t resonate with her surname. Lee is her middle name. So ever since she moved out of her parents house at the age of 23, she’s gone by Marina Lee.

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION

HEIGHT: 5’2”

WEIGHT: 120

HAIR: Long Box Braids

EYES: Dark Brown

TATTOOS: 5 In Total (arms, back of neck, + ribcage)

PIERCINGS: Ears + Nipples

SCARS: On Her Right Knee + Left Elbow

PERSONALITY / ATTRIBUTES

LIKES: Southern drawls, disco, performing in front of a large audience, smoking / drinking / drugs, one-night stands, Indigo Dusk, rock and roll, sunrises, staying out until 6 A.M., kissing strangers

DISLIKES: Raw emotions, sleep, slow days, daft people, mindless conversations, Catholic freaks/religion figures, her father, paparazzi, tabloids

STRENGTHS: Fighter, organized, monarchical, refuses to put out trash music, very dedicated to her team + fans, poised in interviews (well, tries to), + cutting people off (if you gots to go, then you gots to go!)

WEAKNESSES: Stubborn, too short and thin (like grow up, bitch?), being honest, closed off, extremely unattainable, sometimes condescending, has diva tendencies, hard to work with

FEARS: Ruining her career, falling in love, relying on drugs to feel something, becoming too overwhelmed with fame, anxiety attacks, her father, people not liking her music anymore, + not going down in history as a legend

RELIGION: Atheist

SEXUAL PREFERENCE: Bi Kween

#accepted

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scouthearted · 6 years ago

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hi there, I saw a post you made under the job corps tag, and had a question. I was just wondering what it’s like living there on campus, what the dorms are like, the food, if there are any activities/field trips, and what weekends are like. i’m most likely gonna join job corps and might live on campus. thank you for reading :)

Hey! Thanks for asking! I’m going to start with a disclaimer that one, every center is different, two, it’s been close to exactly four years since I graduated, and three, I’m also asking input from two of my brothers (we ALL went to job corps at different centers! so we have a pretty wide range of experiences)! Oh, and for those who may just see this in the tag, my goal is to be as unbiased as possible because there’s so much hate for this program and it’s not all true… but neither are all the promises a recruiter makes, y’know?

So one thing that is commonly said about Job Corps, at least at the center I was at and the center one of my brothers is as, is that it’s a mixture of high school, college, the military, and prison. Living on campus is odd… if you’re a minor, you may find you have a lot more freedom than before, but if you’re an adult you have a lot less. Since the JC system serves people ages 16-24, they treat everyone like they’re 17 years and 364 days old or so… old enough to take care of things yourself but not an adult yet. This is important because it dictates literally everything about center life (we call them centers instead of campuses a lot of the time) and it can make or break you. If you’re over eighteen and can’t get over the lack of freedom, it’ll ruin you. If you can swallow your pride, you can actually have a great time. It’s like going to boarding school, really (confirmed with friends of mine who have in fact gone to boarding school and who I’ve shared experiences with).

Almost everything varies from center to center, dorm life included. If you can, find out who’s in charge of your center. I went to a Forest Service Job Corps, and that’s one of the “bad” kinds, along with Department of Labor centers. If you’re lucky, you’ll be in a contracted center. The difference in dorms is the amount of people and how nice they are. My center’s dorms were 28 people to a “bay,” or a hall with five rooms, and four bays in a building. The biggest room could house eight, the smallest four. The beds were metal and most were bunk beds, and the floor was tile. Cinderblock walls, metal lockers for storing our things. It was almost prisonlike in the rooms, but we had a comfy common area with rugs and couches and could drag our blankets out and make it pretty okay. At my brother’s contracted center, the largest rooms house four people and many only house two. I’ve seen pictures of normal beds with wooden frames, dressers, and carpets. So really, it depends on the experience, but it’s always what you make of it!

You probably won’t spend a lot of time in the dorm besides sleeping. All centers have some form of recreation available on campus for students. Mine had a video game room, a movie room, a large gymnasium, workout room, and sports fields, arts and crafts building, and a pool hall… one of my brothers goes to a center with a computer lab and a library as well. Some centers have a thing that students often call “mandatory fun” where you MUST participate in recreational activities for so many hours a month, so be aware of that. Luckily, clubs often spring up. I was involved in writing club and tabletop roleplaying game club. One of my brothers is currently on his center’s safety patrol, and the other is in his center’s military club. As you can see, there’s a wide variety of clubs, and at least at my center, forming more is easy provided there’s interest. I promise you that if you want to get involved, there’s always something to do.

There are definitely trips. If your center is In The Middle of Nowhere (mine was), people will literally go wild to get off campus. We had Walmart trips every Thursday and the bus was always packed… you had to get in line to sign up early or you’d miss it. Same with field trips (ours did those every Saturday). They’re free trips and excuses to get off center and have some fun! In my time at JC, I went to movies, laser tag, horseback riding, tours of a nearby national park… all sorts of things. Certain clubs and activities (such as student government, fire team, or safety patrol) also offer opportunities to get off center. As SGA president, I often got pulled out of class. Job Corps centers sometimes have biannual leadership conferences that’s basically a week of camp for people in SGA, so I got to travel from Kentucky to Virginia and spend a week learning leadership skills in the outdoors, even! That said, sometimes they really are no fun. See if your center has a schedule of what’s coming up, and when sign ups come, sign up QUICK. Also, here’s a hint… Walmart trips aren’t always worth it. Your center probably has a thriving black market of students who are willing to sell you basically anything you need or want. Note that this is super not allowed, but everyone does it anyway. Hell, I was student president and I sold candy on the DL. Just don’t wave it in the faces of any authority figures.

Weekends vary. Often, they function as normal free time (see above with recreation, trips, etc). Once you’ve been on center long enough (it’s either four or six weeks I think, at least at the center I was at) you can take Weekend Pass (given you’re over 18 or have parental permission), which means you get to leave center for the weekend. It’s a popular option for those who have the money and means. In the middle of nowhere, taking pass is hard, but if you’re in an urban center it’s a great way to take a day trip alone. For the most part, people at my center under 21 used pass to go see parents. The ones over 21 got a hotel and got super drunk. If you’re going on pass with friends, be careful and safe. Legal trouble can get you booted from the program.

Now for the food. Much as dorms are different depending on who runs the center, food’s different depending on that and what trades are offered. If your center has a culinary program? You’re likely going to eat real well. If not, it goes again to who runs the center. At my Forest Service center, the food was like higher quality school lunches, so if you can stomach that, you were fine. For my contracted center brother, he has really nice meals all the time. My brother at a DoL center says the food is basically “high class MREs.” If you’re not feeling the food, use some of your allowance to stock up on ramen, instant rice dinners, or anything like that, or turn to the black market, or your school store. Note that while meals are free, though, those options cost money.

Last thing (unless you have more questions in which case TOTALLY feel free to ask) isn’t something you asked, but is nice to know… you’ll get an allowance of $25 every two weeks that raises to $35 biweekly after a certain point (6 months??). There’s more ways to make money, though. Some centers pay for students to do extra kitchen duty over whatever the center requires. SGA often pays, as it counts as a job. Some centers will allow students to do work-study, or to get part time jobs after classes conclude. There’s also that black market (and as wifi is government based and therefore lots of things are blocked or monitored, getting a wifi hotspot and selling time on it can make BANK. But you didn’t hear that from me).

Anyway, I hope that helped. If you have any more questions, please feel free to ask. Good luck!

#job corps #jc #jccc #jcccc #asks for tabby #Anonymous #job corp

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shlohs-blog · 6 years ago

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[ astrid s, cisfemale, she/her, twenty-one ] ROCKABYE by CLEAN BANDIT? whenever i hear that song, it reminds me of SHILOH EADES. maybe because they’re TIRELESS but also HUBRISTIC. they’ve been living at mulberry apartments since AUGUST of 2016 in APARTMENT 111 and have 0 ROOMMATES.

oof hello , it me , clara ! i’m super excited to be here and i’m excited to start interacting w u all loveys.

trigger warning: teen pregnancy , drugs + alcohol usage , churches + religion ,

THE INTRODUCTION !

shiloh was born to a religious family in nowhere, kentucky. she was the middle child of five and was mostly ignored growing up, ya know? she did her duty as a church-going kiddo, you know, going to church, attending sunday school, volunteering with her family, etc. etc. but she was pretty much ignored – her older siblings got praise for straight a’s and her younger siblings got attention from spilling chocolate milk, shiloh was just kinda there.

so when high school rolled around, she fell into the stereotype of “good girls are bad girls”. she snuck out all the time, showed up to church hungover, made out with boys behind the church – the basics, ya know. around her sophomore year, she started attending parties and experimenting with drugs and alcohol more.

basically, two days after her seventeenth birthday, she found out she was pregnant. nothing can describe the fear she felt when she saw the little pink plus staring back at her and she stopped all illegal activities then and there. she went to church all the time, praying and asking the good lord for guidance and for as long as she could, she hid her pregnancy.

eventually, everyone found out because you can’t really hide pregnancy for that long. she was cast out of her social group and the small-minded town, her parents and family refusing to have anything to do with her. even the boy who got her pregnant just pretended he didn’t know her. she was truly alone in her pregnancy and it sucked a ton.

she gave birth to a little baby girl who she named penny and she swore to make her life better than her own. so far, she hasn’t forced her kiddo to go to church like she was and lets penny make ( most ) of her own decisions – or as many as a four year old can handle? so far, she’s chosen to pursue ballet, painting and the piano.

after giving birth to her though, she knew that she had to make ends meet somehow. she began working odd jobs to make money – whatever she could find that would pay. she’s a jack of all trades at this point, landing at mulberry two years ago and somehow, hasn’t been evicted yet.

PERSONALITY !

as far as neighbors go, shiloh and penny are pretty good ones. they live on the lowest floor by themselves and keep to themselves mostly. shiloh is a very giving person, though, always baking cookies and goodies for neighbors and lending them anything they may need. she has a drawer full of random things her neighbors might need like screwdrivers or rubber bands or green shoelaces idk.

she still goes to church sometimes, but only takes penny when penny wants to go. she feels like she owes him something because she’s had a relatively good life, but she’s not an avid follower of the word, she never really was anyway oops.

genuinely a kind person despite the work she does. odd jobs include everything from stand in girlfriend to maybe a night at the strip club to unlocking doors. her only steady job is her part time job at a nearby boxcar diner where she gets shitty hours because the boss hates her :)

but, genuinely kind, keeps to herself, willing to help out and just wants to raise her kid.

ETC. ETC.

has a small puppy named lucky, she’s a goldendoodle breed and the puppy and penny are always together.

knows three languages besides english, consisting of swedish, norwegian and spanish. why? mostly because if she pretends she can’t speak english, people leave her alone, but spanish was learned in school and her family is both swedish and norwegian and her elder relatives always spoke the language to her.

it’s funny to her, because before she had penny, she never stepped foot in the kitchen, but because she has a whole kid to take care of, she threw herself into making the best, healthiest meals for her kiddo.

her favorite color is white and her apartment is pinterest worthy. being poor and crafty, a lot of the expensive looking items are diys she did with materials she found in the trash or at second hand stores.

like stated above, is a jack of all trades and honestly can do anything she puts her mind to – as long as she gets paid for helping. got locked out of your apartment? she can get you in. car won’t start? she’ll fix up the engine quickly. kid won’t go to sleep? she’ll get them in bed before you can blink. of course, all for a fee ( like $2 or that book you’re not reading idk )

CURRENT WC

QUIT by CASHMERE CAT – WANTED BY SHILOH EADES (astrid s) OPEN M

when shiloh moved in two years ago, muse b was the first person she met in town. she was young, had a toddler on her hip and she wasn’t looking for love. she was looking for a place to settle down and save enough money to get a real home for her daughter, but she found your muse and all her thoughts about ‘no love’ went out the window. your muse was definitley not a great influence on her, but she just couldn’t resist. to this day, they’re still sort of in lingo and they don’t know where they stand with another, but shiloh has feelings she’s refusing to acknowledge.

STAND BY YOU by RACHEL PLATTEN – WANTED BY SHILOH EADES (astrid s)

as a single mother working the oddest jobs in town, shiloh isn’t rolling around in cash. your muse is someone who’s in the same boat as her who she can constantly relate with and talk to after a particularly bad day. they’re always at each other’s apartments with her kid and always sharing dinner and stories about their latest day. they’re so close that a lot of people think they’re dating, but they know that they’re just friends. they might even consider each other relatives, since they’re basically family at this point.

KING by LAUREN AQUILINA – WANTED BY SHILOH EADES (astrid s)

shiloh’s done a lot of things in the past four years to make ends meet. she’s been at the lowest lows that life has to offer and she understands the struggle and difficulty of life. your muse is someone she’s rather protective of, someone who used to be something more. your muse may be older or younger, but shiloh is always spouting wisdom at them and offering advice at times of need. she often shows up at their door with cookies or goodies, ready to build them up to the person that she knows they can be. she’s their number one fan and always has their back no matter what.

oof that’s all i have for shiloh ??? i’m open for anything so if u wanna plot just hmu and i’ll throw shiloh @ u :) <3

#soundintro #– MUSINGS #it took me like 12 hours but i'm here finally

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thebachelordiaries · 7 years ago

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Jocks And Finance Bros: Bachelorette First Impressions

Becca, I hope you like jocks and finance bros.

If not, you’re shit out of luck.

Becca dates one athlete and they beat that one dating preference of her’s to death by casting 18 or so former athletes. Kind of like how they beat “Let’s Do The Damn Thing” tagline to death.

I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am.

A letter to the men on this season of The Bachelorette:

Do you think you deserve this goddess of a woman, Becca Kufrin? You probably don’t. You probably think too highly of yourself to know this.

Maybe two of you will be good enough for her. Five of you may turn out to be decent people, but that’s me being generous. If it’s anything like JoJo’s season, we will have just one or two decent men. ABC producers, please don’t let me down. Oh wait, you already did with the super-short bios.

This season we have 25 28 men vying for Becca’s heart, or at least a blue checkmark on their Instagram page. At least one of you will get fake engaged on Paradise and six of you will move from middle-of-nowhere USA to Los Angeles and move back home within a year. I’m not sure which guys will do that yet, but it’s always fun to guess!

Anyway, good luck with your 15 minutes of fame!

Signed,

The Bachelor Diaries.

WTF: No Q&A?

ABC did not include the usual Q&A in this year’s cast bios. I’m so offended. How will I truly understand these men if I don’t know what kind of fruit they’d be or what kind of superpower they’d want?

I would boycott this season because of this, but I have literally nothing better to do on Monday nights, or any night for that matter. I’m still going to try my best to roast these men, of course. It shouldn’t be that hard.

Despite no Q&A’s, I will still form my own opinions on these guys. I, like Kanye West, am a free thinker. Go poopidy-scoop yourself, ABC.

Ok, now let’s get to know these men:

Alex, 31, Construction Manager

Alex is the male equivalent of the basic white girl. He likes country music, his dog, the beach and skiing. He probably has “Let’s go on a hike together!” on his Bumble profile and regularly wears a Patagonia dad hat.

Blake, 28, Sales Rep

We already met horse boy Blake on After The Final Rose. He either played baseball or football in college. Thanks for being so concise, ABC. However, he looks like a baseball player to me. While originally from a small town in Colorado, he definitley lives in LA now. He also believes “two people need to be independent in order to truly love each other” so I think that means he’s into open relationships and or will cheat on you.

Chase, 27, Advertising VP

Chase, unlike Blake, was definitley a college baseball player who was apparently good enough to be in the College Wold Series but evidently not good enough to go pro— at least longterm. We also met Chase on ATFR and I don’t remember much about him. He likes “adventure” and the “outdoors” so he’s quite the special snowflake.

Chris, 30, Sales Trainer

What even is a sales trainer? Chris hopes to retire by 40. In this economy? Good luck with that. He is passionate about “fitness” and “health” which is so unique and different. I feel like I really got to know him through that piece of information.

Christian, 28, Banker

Christian is a former semi-pro soccer player who moved to the US from Mexico when he was three. I feel like his picture makes him look like he has a little head, but other than that he seems alright.

Christon, 31, Former Harlem Globetrotter/ Professional Dunker

I spent a good 30 seconds wondering why two guys with the same name didn’t have their last name initials included in their bios. It took another 30 seconds to notice that Christon was spelled differently than Christian. So this dude is a professional dunker in LA. My first thought is that he’d have a pretty good intro video package for The Bachelorette. Anyone want to put money down that he gets one?

Clay, 30, Pro Football Player

Clay was on his way to the poetry slam but somehow got lost and ended up on the Bachelorette. He allegedly doesn’t curse but is a fan of hip-hop music. I think he is the “famous” football player who was in talks to be on this season. Apparently I should care. Never heard of him.

Colton, 26, Former Pro Football Player

“Hi, my name is Colt and welcome to my Youtube Channel!” That’s the vibe I’m getting from this picture. I’m also getting Blake Griffin vibes. He just looks strangely tan here. Colton may have a job at the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation. I’m curious to know if he has a story as to WHY he is involved with CF. He also lives in Denver and has a dog named Sniper, which is awkward because the neighboring city of Boulder just banned assault weapons.

EDIT: He was the guy who asked out Aly Raisman via public video and they briefly dated. I shipped them so hard. I AM SHOOKETH.

Connor, 25, Fitness Coach

I feel like I’m going to be sick if I hear one more guy talk about how they were “almost” a professional athlete and how much they lo0o0o0ove working out. I’m sadly only at the beginning of this cast list. Someone pray for me. And someone pray that Connor’s eyebrows grow back after that terrible wax job.

Darius, 26, Pharmaceutical Sales Rep

Darius works for big pharma yet claims to be dedicating his life to helping others. Err, okay. He likes to dance and travels a lot so my guess is he’s probably not ready to settle down at age 26 despite his 36-year-old hairline.

David, 25, Venture Capitalist

David looks like every finance bro who lives in West Village and only dates 22-year-old Instagram models. The only difference is that he lives in Denver instead of Manhattan, which by society’s standards makes him more wholesome. He also loves guacamole, but dislikes avocado, which roughly translates to: I don’t cook and eat Chipotle for dinner every night.

Grant, 27, Electrician

The only way Grant is making it past night one is if he shows up fully dressed as a member of the Village People or as Bob The Builder. If not, he has no chance.

Garrett, 29, Medical Sales Rep

Pro tip to ABC: The letter A comes before the letter R in the alphabet. These names are out of order.

Anyway, Garret reminds me of Ben Afleck in that his face just makes me want to punch him..in the face. Besides the fact that he also works for big pharma, he actually has outdoor hobbies besides “I enjoy fresh air and walking in the woods” like fly fishing and showshoeing. I’m hoping he isn’t a giant jerk because I kind of like him.

Jake, 29, Marketing Consultant

I thought his name was “Joke” at first because I am a terrible person. I think Joke...I mean Jake...is from the same city as Becca. (I’m assuming Minnesota only has one city) I feel like all hot people in cities have this inner-circle where they know of each other, so maybe they’ve crossed paths before.

Jason, 29, Sr. Corporate Banker

Andrew Keegan? I love your work. “Jason” likes sports and singing along to Disney movies. He contains multitudes.

Jean Blanc, 31, Colognoisseur

I love that ABC took a smart, educated, immigrant with a successful job and gave him a fake occupation on television. Jean Blanc is a cologne connoisseur. I feel like he would smell good. 10/10 would smell him.

Joe, 31, Grocery Store Owner

I feel like a lot of these bios are the equivalent to what it’s like to drive in an Uber. The driver is always explaining to you how successful they are and where they traveled as a way to prove they aren’t some loser driving you around. Joe’s bio screams “Yeah I own a grocery store but also worked in finance before I burnt myself out, so don’t judge me.” Nobody was judging you, but now I am.

John, 28, Software Engineer

John hopes to be the first Asian male to make it out of night one on The Bachelorette. I can already tell he’s better than most of these guys: he works at a start-up in Silicon Valley, likes wine, plays guitar and bakes banana bread. He deserves a rose, dammit!

Jordan, 26, Male Model

Robert Mills, who is like an important ABC guy or something, called Jordan the “greatest Bachelorette contestant of all time.” Clearly he’s trying to make us forget about Chad. Good luck with that, Robert. Definitley not happening.

So Jordan is probably this season’s villain. Whatever, I don’t care. I DO care, however, that his bio is bragging about a mediocre 4:24 mile time and “sprinting to the finish line.” The time was written as “4.24″ by ABC and a comma is also missing from that sentence. ABC, let me know if you want to hire me as an editor. Back to the mile comment: A mile is an endurance mid-distance race. Nobody is technically sprinting in it, unless it’s a tactical race. Puns don’t work if they’re factually incorrect.

Kamil, 30, Social Media Participant

Kamil works in real estate and is a part-time model, but ABC decided to call him a “social media participant.” He’s originally from Poland but lives in Upstate New York, which is evident based on the fact he’s wearing a denim button-up shirt.

Leo, 31, Stuntman

It’s crazy how fast Alex Bordy grew his hair in a year. “Not Alex Bordy” is a stuntman in LA, which I heard is a pretty sick job. I am personally a fan of his hair. He knows how to tame those curls and probably rocks a great man bun. I would love to know what products he uses.

Lincoln, 26, Account Executive

Lincoln has a lot of things going on in his bio. He moved to Boston from Nigeria as a teenager, went to college in Kentucky and moved to Santa Monica for work. We met him on ATFR and he was super nervous, cute and had an accent to make most girls swoon. I’d say make him The Bachelor but 26 is too young in my opinion.

Mike, 27, Sports Analyst

How come every Ohio sports fan names their dog Riggins? Based on his hair, I’m assuming Mike is a radio sports analyst. That hair on television? No thank you. Hopefully Leo can give him some tips to make his hair look decent. Did you know: Becca’s psycho ex Ross used to have long hair? It was not cute. But I don’t think Becca is going to send the long-haired guys home immediately a la the notoriously shallow Andi Dorfman.

Nick, 27, Attorney

I’m excited for Nick to be on the show because I know him by association. Let me explain: A friend of mine went to school with one of his friends and periodically stalks her social media. The friend is a girl, so I think he’s friends with mostly girls, which may explain why he loves to “brunch.” He looks terrible in this photo. Nick gives me polished, sexually ambiguous vibes based on how he appears on Insta. I also knew he was going to be on the show before R*ality St*ve, which made me feel powerful. It was a rush.

Rickey, 27, IT Consultant

I know of Rickey too. He was a Bodybuilding.com Spokesmodel Search finalist in 2017. Hashtag #rightreasons. I’m not sure how “online personal trainer” translates to IT consultant, but ok. Side note: I don’t think bodybuilders look good in suits so he might go home night one.

Ryan, 26, Banjoist

Before the “Yanny or Laurel” debate there was the “Ryan or Brian” debate on After The Final Rose. Evidently the answer is Ryan. He’s the new Wells and I could not be more excited to watch this babe on my television screen. He plays at least four instruments and loves to sail. He also screams “family money” but it’s ok, we can mooch off his parents together.

Trent, 28, Realtor

Can you imagine having a child and naming it Trent? This guy never had a chance. He is a realtor and a part-time model (I swear I wrote the same thing a few contestants up) and has appeared on covers of romance novels, but I certainly wouldn’t call him the next Fabio.

Wills, 29, Graphic Designer

Wills is a graphic designer who loves Harry Potter. I see no problem here. Except for maybe his porno-stache.

Prediction corner:

Welcome to the prediction corner where I never get anything right. Oh, you know what happens because you read spoilers? Please keep that information to yourself. I like to find out what happens on my own.

Without further ado, here are my baseless predictions:

First Impression Rose: The guys who got the First Impression Rose on the last three seasons became engaged to The Bachelorette. If that happens this year I demand a scientific case study to explain the power of first impressions on women. Anyway, I think Ryan gets it.

Season Villain: Jordan (that was easy)

Next Bachelor: Blake (don’t ask me why)

Winner: Garrett (I like him)

Comment below to let me know your early favorites!

#The Bachelorette #Becca Kufrin #abc #Arie Luyendyk #chris harrison #photo credit ABC

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agentdagonet · 6 years ago

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Echoes, Ch. 15

Find it here on AO3

Find it here on tumblr: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Fic Summary: Feet dangling off the edge of the bed, hands still resting on the earpieces of his glasses, Eggsy opened his eyes.

And promptly shut them again, screwing them shut like a child who had the distinct misfortune of biting into a raw lemon. Breathing harshly in his nose and out his mouth, trying to stave off whatever delusional panic had befallen him, Eggsy reopened his eyes.

‘Harry?’

Or: The Hologram Story Nobody Asked For

((guess who’s doing NaNo??? IT’S ME! And as long as I can keep it up I’m going to be posting chapters this month. You reap the benefits of my madness!))

They’d been in the air a few hours before Eggsy started getting antsy. He’d changed en-route into something slightly more presentable, but nowhere near a Kingsman suit. Merlin would be going in to get Harry from the hospital, claiming to be his cousin. He’d have proper identification, of course, but the presence of two people far younger than they would only end with them being connected to either Harry or Merlin as offspring, and no one wanted to try and tread those waters.

At least, that was the excuse he gave to Merlin about not really wanting to go in and get Harry himself.

The longer he’d been away from the message back at the mews, the more it felt like a fantasy. Sure, he was in a Kingsman jet en-route to Kentucky and had seen the coordinates for himself- but after a year and change of convincing himself that Harry was dead. And then all this time of learning to accept Haz as all he was going to get in this lifetime. It was... A lot. And more than a little bit unbelievable.

‘Y’know I never right asked- what’d Harry send ya, Merthur?’

‘I’m positive I told you not to call me that.’

‘That ain’t an answer.’

‘It was barely anything- short and to the point. “Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated,” and then complaints about the tea. The pillock didn’t even give anything vaguely useful; it’s not as if it weren’t a perfectly secure line! Arsehole.’ Merlin trailed off, mumbling obscenities to himself; likely to keep from doing so at the hospital in the near future.

Somehow that eased something in Eggsy’s chest that he hadn’t known was tightened (hadn’t acknowledged, more like, as he’d been so disappointed when Merlin’d said they already knew.) but left him floundering. Did he tell Merlin about what Harry had sent him? Would that bring unnecessary questions about Haz and the laptop and Eggsy’s seemingly having moved on at long last from Harry’s untimely (not) demise?

Come clean, or leave it all in the shadows? And even then, he’d have to remake the decision once faced with Harry. There was no way to have that reunion be private, and Eggsy needed to remember that he was a man exiting a hospital. A man exiting a hospital that he had never actually embraced before, and as desperately as Eggsy wished to do so the moment he saw him, he had the strange feeling it wouldn’t be appreciated. There’d be time for that later, hopefully.

‘I’m here to see an old bastard that got shot in the face and apparently doesn’t remember his own name. Been here about a year, I’d wager.’

The woman at the check-in desk looked startled by both his frank address and the content of his words- but his accent tipped her off.

‘Ah, You mean patient 171992- guess the laptop actually worked, huh? Wish we’d known all he needed was an internet connection to get out of our hair. Not,’ she added on hastily, ‘that he’s been anything but pleasant, but he’s been healed up far as we can do besides his memory issues for a while now, and it was annoying to be keeping him just because he has nowhere else to go. We always need more space than we have, you know.’

Merlin’s eyebrow remained raised, but inside he was cackling. The lazy bastard. Or, maybe not lazy, but less functional than he thought. After a moment, he asked to be escorted to the patient’s room, asking questions about his health since V-Day. He’d been in a coma for some time, woken up and refused to answer any of their questions with actual answers. He’d stare blankly before shaking his head and saying there was something there but just out of reach, smiling blandly.

‘Somehow I’m not surprised- he’s always had a flair for the dramatic, and if you all broke the news to him about V-Day early on he likely thought he had no one left. There’s only so long a person can remain unclaimed in a hospital before assuming no one’s coming- especially in circumstances like these.’

‘Yes, we all felt terribly sorry for him- without proof his mental faculties weren’t faulty we were quite hesitant to give him access to the internet, but he charmed one of the overnight staff into leaving him a laptop. I’m glad it turned out this well- that he had someone looking for him, that is.’ She tucked some hair behind an ear, and glanced at him a moment without breaking pace and looked away quickly.

‘I’m just glad that we both inherited the stubborn gene- most of who’s left of the family just wrote him off within a month of V-Day. I’d nearly given up myself, to be frank- I was about ready to stop sending inquiries about ashes when the peacock sent me an e-mail himself,’ Merlin paused, half his lips quirking upward, ‘complaining about the tea.’ The two shared a giggle before pausing in the middle of the hall.

‘I’m positive that this is going to be an emotional reunion, and will likely help him recover any memories still locked away, so I’m going to leave you here. His room is three down, on the left… be patient. I know, he’s family, and that’s why you’re so free with your language about him. But people are here because they’re fragile- and he’s not excluded from that,’ she locked eyes with him, fiercely determined, ‘no matter what kind of a front he puts on. I know we’re likely never going to see him again, but I know that we would all feel better knowing he was going back with you because he’s wanted and not because he’s necessary.’ She nodded to herself, turned, and strutted back from whence they’d come.

He’d be sending her a fruit basket.

Merlin looked in the direction of Harry’s room, but couldn’t bring himself to move just yet. Once he walked up to that door, once he went inside, there would be no more denying the facts, or the likely direction things were going in once everyone was reunited. More specifically, Eggsy being reunited with a real Harry instead of the ghost he’d been living with. A real Harry he’d been idolising since his demise, and trying to prove himself worthy of the legacy that came with his title, to the point of self-harm.

Titles. Shit. Eggsy was Galahad, Harry most likely didn’t know that, and they’d filled the rest of the Knight positions once the world was no longer imploding as quickly. Suddenly Merlin strode forward, valiantly fighting a manic grin, and didn’t bother knocking before opening the door.

‘I certainly hope you’ve gotten your beauty sleep, Arthur- we’ve got a long journey ahead of us, and you’ve dithered about long enough.’

‘...’ Harry’s head had shot up just as Merlin had begun to speak, and though his mouth was open no sound came through. His back was ramrod straight; he didn’t turn toward Merlin, who was leaning against the jamb, instead staring blankly ahead of himself in the vague direction of the ensuite bathroom door that was slightly ajar.

‘I know your voice works fine, but I’d appreciate confirmation that your ears aren’t faulty.’

‘... Ethan?’ Merlin’s heart stuttered; Harry’s voice sounded thready, and the way his throat worked itself after was enough of a tell- he hadn’t expected him to come. Whether because he was no longer looking at messages from his lines or because Harry had thought him dead was immaterial. He toed off his shoes, tucking them off to one side and closing the door as he walked forward.

‘Yes, Harry, I’m here;’ Merlin spoke softly, ran a hand down his back before unceremoniously pulling himself into the bed alongside Harry. ‘We made it through, against all odds, yet again. You need to stop scaring me like this- I’d long since given up, to be honest. I can’t remember a time I’ve been more pleased to be wrong.’ It was whispered, like a secret, as he pulled Harry back to slump against him.

‘I- honestly I was so disoriented when I woke up, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I realised that I had been found outside of a church covered in blood, bullet in my head, and a mess of corpses behind me, with no identification. I thought that I’d immediately be pulled in for questioning, but apparently so much had happened that it just got forgotten in the midst of everything else. I knew giving my real name wouldn’t ping any real information besides my parents, and once I knew how long it’d been I knew all my spares would have been retired. I doubted turning on the glasses would work, so I didn’t even try that until I had a steady internet connection I could send a secondary message to-’ Harry rambled, shaking ever so slightly in Merlin’s grip, still not daring to turn toward Merlin’s face.

�� ‘Well, you were correct in all of those assumptions- the homing beacon was flickering in and out when we decided to see if it was even operational when tracing your message was taking too long. But I’m here now, and we’re going home and we’re going to build something new from these broken parts.’ Merlin’s hand had come up about Harry’s shoulders, before continuing upward and running itself along the side of Harry’s face he couldn’t see.

Where he’d been shot.

Harry sighed to himself and gave in, turning to face Merlin fully. It was an uncomfortable position- but this was an uncomfortable moment. There was a thick line of scarring from eye socket to temple and further into the hairline; it spiderwebbed out a fair bit, getting thinner and lighter as it approached the shoddily cut hair (likely left over from bandaging and other medical reasonings for haircuts which were never done well). Harry met his eyes straight on, though the left was so surrounded by scar tissue that Merlin had to stifle a giggle.

‘Are- are you laughing at me?’

‘Are you going to go looking for your honour, Zuko?’

‘I thought we agreed not to talk about-’

‘I don’t see anyone here but us, Harry; besides, it’s not as if you’ve got a glass eye, or I’d’ve had to make you a robotic one, Terminator.’ At that Harry could not stifle his own giggles any longer, though they quickly turned to laughter so hard he had to wipe tears from his eyes. Merlin could do no more than laugh along, barely able to keep the two of them from falling off- rails be damned, two rather tall fifty-ish year old men were not meant to share a hospital bed.

Outside the door a sizeable group of nurses and various staff lingered about with smiles on their faces, glad beyond words to hear joy instead of tears.

‘DID YOU CALL ME ARTHUR?’

#dagonet writes #fanfiction #kingsman #kingsman fanfiction #echoes

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hayleycanalscapstoneblog · 3 years ago

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Journalism Research: Interview with Emily Allen from the Mountain State Spotlight

Hi, I don't know if I could hear you. Sometimes I have an issue with zoom where I don't get the other person's audio so if it doesn't pop up, I can always call you instead. Okay, wait, try now.

What about now?

Yeah, I can hear you.

Okay, good. Cool. Awesome.

Yeah. How are you doing?

Doing? Well, how are you?

I'm good. It's a little early for me.

Yeah, it's weird. Like, I've never had to use interview questions written by somebody else. But because it's like a research project with a bunch of people. We're kind of like, given our blueprint for this.

And what is this for your in your senior or your graduate? I'm a senior, and it's for my capstone class. So we're doing a big collaborative project, kind of to help us get an idea of what getting a job is going to be like, once we leave.

Sure. Yeah. Big world. Yeah, for you.

How long ago did you graduate?

Um, I graduated from the University of Minnesota like 2018.

Okay, cool.

I'm glad I'm talking to somebody who was recently here.

Yeah, no, it's still fresh in my mind.

Yeah. Are you from Minnesota?

No, we moved around a lot. But I did school up there. So I kind of stayed in the Midwest before I got my job in West Virginia.

Yeah, cool. I got you. Well, I'll jump into it, because they gave me a lot. But you don't need to like elaborate if it's a pretty basic question, just because, I mean, they really just gave me quite a list. And can I record?

Yeah, yeah, totally. Thanks for checking.

Yeah, in North Carolina, you like don't technically have to ask people. But whenever I'm talking to somebody out of state, I don't want to know, you know, I think just in general, too. It's good practice to let them know if you're on the record, you're recording.

And it's an easy way just to be like, Can I quote you?

Yeah, true. Yeah.

Yeah. The weirdest people will have like, you know, the need to say no, like, managers. Yeah. Well, apparently, if you work for Taco Bell, you can't do interviews. I found out so.

Okay. Yeah, that's a couple of corporations.

Anyways, so how would you classify the type of journalism you do? Would you say it's like watchdog journalism, civic journalism? I'm just curious what specification specification you give it.

Um, I think watchdog and civic are both good terms. I mean, I should clarify. So I've been here with balancing spotlight and since June, and it's a nonprofit, and I think both those adjectives work well for it. Yeah. But I daily newsrooms before it. So I always think, with the jobs that I've had, it's been a civic duty. But this is the first time that we've really, for me, done, you know, kind of the watchdog accountability, not just quoting people what they say. But following up and adding extra content and verifying.

That's really cool. And that's kind of the type of journalism I want to get into myself. So watchdog civic, nonprofit, more or less?

Yeah, I'm really bad at like the adjectives that come with this because I literally to paper radio and now, I'm in a nonprofit. I think all those are accurate and when there's like a description on our website, I mean, I, I do I think personally, my job is more community based to I don't know what that term. But I mean, it just goes beyond press releases and press conferences and basic interviews. Yeah, I don't know how to grab that. I'm probably not making sense.

No, that that totally makes sense. Yeah, yeah. I was talking to some people at the devil strip last year. And they're a co op, so very, like community based. And just got a strong sense of what that means for them. Like, knowing the readers in person created a lot of that meaning. So what motivates you to do this type of journalism?

Um, different things on different days, I think. I mean, right now with the job I have, so I'm kind of an out state reporter. I don't cover you know, Charleston, I go out like I was in Dodd Ridge County yesterday, which is extremely rural and farther north. And I think it's really just a, I like talking to people that I've never met before. I like dealing with strangers. I like, you know, learning new things. And even when the job gets really hard, and I'm asking really, like rough questions, and I'm dealing with, kind of hard to interview, you know, public officials, I think I always think back well, I wouldn't want to stop what I'm doing. Because tomorrow or next week, I'm going to go meet so and so or I'm going to go here this. I think it's that kind of a thing.

Yeah. So the base is like in Charleston?

Yes. Yeah, we don't have we're all on the boat for now, because they took off during a pandemic. And I've been here since June. But we're all in Charleston. Yeah. But we travel out for things as necessary. I'm traveling every week, so Okay, mileage is great. Yeah. Do they give you gas? Yeah, yeah, mileage we get reimbursed. So I used to work for public broadcasting. And it was the same way that you got a safe car. And it's kind of awkward, whatever works. on devices in the middle of nowhere where we can't get cell service or anything. to step up, yeah.

One of the one of the questions they were wanting us to ask is like, what other forms of journalism you've been involved with, and then like, kind of how long you've been out in the field. Just what that journey has looked like for you?

Sure. Um, so I graduated in 2018. And immediately after that, like, I didn't even walk the stage. I just went to North Dakota, because I got a job at the Grand Forks Herald, which they're still daily, they stopped printing after I left, they do a Sunday edition and a Wednesday edition. But when I was there, they printed every day, which is like amazing, like just that, that that kind of thing can happen. I covered city government for Grand Forks, which is the city in North Dakota, but across the river, we had East Grand Forks in Minnesota, they also covered their government. And I helped with state house coverage, and sometimes regional stuff, but not a lot. I really just stayed where I land. And then I applied to report for America, which is what I still am in. And they hooked me up with a job in West Virginia, which is West Virginia public broadcasting. So I was full of yours, and I covered Southern West Virginia, sort of the same thing I'm doing now I'd go out there and then I also helped cover the State House. So the legislative session, the radio did well they put me on TV during the session, which wasn't great for me. So fun. And then this summer, my report for America term ended so two years, and I reapplied and got in here with the spotlight club and I'm doing less Statehouse coverage obviously it's I think what's really cool about us is we're not daily, so there's no paper to fill. There's no air show to fill. It's just the website, we do, I think we try to do like two to three stories a week. So it's regular content, you know, if something needs more time, or editors are pretty cool about understanding that and doing whatever it takes to better story out. I think what's also cool too is even though I'm just online exclusively, and that's sort of a thing, we let newspapers and radio stations and whatnot, republish our stuff for free. So sometimes, like I'm in a paper on the other side of the state and you know, I don't work with synthetically maybe.

Yeah, that's really cool. So, so like fully digital, with exceptions.

Yeah, I mean, it's up to that, like public broadcasting. They put a lot of our stuff on their website. I work with Douglas soul. He does a bunch of stuff, but he's mostly economic development. But he did this really big investigation into a sheriff's department in Rowan County, which is maybe an hour from here more rural, and their local paper ran it. So they give it an S run on our website, like people would have seen it, but maybe not a lot of people who live there. But because their paper chose to republish it, like that's something that their community is listening to and adhering to and talking about. Yeah, it was a tangent.

No, it's very interesting. So would you say you guys are local, or state level?

Yeah, I think Well, I mean, I'm here's local journalists. But it is weird because I don't live in a lot of the communities that I'm going to so I'd say state level. Yeah. We I mean, we have a lot. A lot. We're a small team, but we cover Charleston's I guess it's kind of locally based. I think it just depends. But state probably more. So we're not like local, local, or local.

Yeah, I was working for app voices. And I think they have an office up there. But I felt the same way. Because it like feels sort of local, but then, you know, we're not actually reporting on like the town we're in, so much as a regional thing. Okay, so what what would what would you say your specialty is currently?

Um, you mean like skills or what we put out or like you're...

like the topic you report on.

I'm kind of all over the place. Just because not eat is like, I think they call me community watchdog or something. So really, I mean, I pay attention to city council meetings, county commission meetings from where I'm at, or I travel, and I kind of just whatever they're talking about, we'll dive into. And sometimes I'll take something that's happening on the state level, or something that someone else has covered. And I'll bring it into a community and cover what's happening there. So like, it's hard to just like, explain that way. But through by way of example, like we had the huge opioid trial against the three big distributors in Huntington, but it happened in Charleston. So that was, I mean, nationally renowned, the state level news story, but there are like, hundreds of other smaller West Virginia communities that have lawsuits, and nothing's happening to them. So we that story, and I went to Mingo. County, on the Kentucky border, West Virginia, though, and just talked to them about what the opioid epidemic looks like out there. So that kind of a thing, just is I kind of cover all sorts of things, but it just has to have a really community that's chosen.

Yeah, that makes sense. So which, like areas specific qualifications or like journalistic qualifications, would you say are important to have like, for your kind of job?

Um, a lot of things, I think. I mean, being able to, I mean, organizationally, I like I think being organized is important, and being able to plan and stick to the plan of what you're about to report. But I think in terms of reporting, I don't want to just say interviewing, because that's really broad, but like, you know, being able to, you know, knowing how to interview public officials and people who are supposed to serve the public and holding them accountable, but also knowing how to interview like normal people. Because I especially like in our newsroom, and I'm really like, down with this, including, just like regular West Virginians who are impacted about things or like, curious about things you're concerned about things is really important to our work. Because it's something that people can relate to. So I think it's really important to know, like, how to identify real people in a way that's not like exploitive, and like, there are tons of ways to do it. It just depends on the context, but also knowing how to talk with them and being respectful, but getting the best story that you can. Yeah. So in terms of interviews, I think those two things are important public records, laws, even a daily journalism, if you're just aware of that as an area, it's really important. I would still like the more that I ease into this job, the more I learned about public records laws and how that works, but I think it's important just to do whatever you can to get whatever information is out there. And different information from what you know, other outlets might be able to get just by resources. And I think it's not really a skill but something that's really, really important, especially if you're a statewide news organization covering local rural communities keeping up with local news, because even though it's like, strapped like there are tons of local papers still throughout West Virginia. So just taking like an hour or two every day, just to Know what's happening in places and keeping tabs on that. I think it's I don't know if it's a skill, but I think it's really important to any job but this kind of specifically.

Yeah, I feel like that'd be a good like qualification or like, just habit to have doing that kindof work. Do you count yourself as like part of the target audience of the newspaper?

Like, am I a reader for Mountain State spotlights?

Yeah, yeah. Or like would you be even if you weren't working for them? I think so. I mean, it's weird because like, they're extremely new and we just celebrated a year but I've only been here since June. So I was like, I don't know if they were targeting me, but I was a reader and I benefited from their coverage before I came over here. Sure. I think I mean, I think we just target like West Virginians. I think this whether it's to inform them or to let you know somebody living in a community know what's going on in that community.

Do you do like digital? multimedia yourself?

Um, yeah, I guess we I don't have a camera. Like I've been I've taken public broadcasting. We learned a little bit on photography. So it some of that. I think it's important to be able to have some kind of art company in your work, especially digitally. Sorry, I have a cat.

I got this cat at a gas station. rehabilitating her and she's great, but she likes to climb the window screens and she's not ready to get out into the real world.

Did you find her there?

Yeah, yeah, we found her at a gas station and just took her and I'm very fortunate that she's healthy and well, she had fleas.

Via journalism, yeah, I mean taking photos, knowing what you're. And sometimes I think, especially if you're a reporter, and you're starting out, you don't have a lot of control about how your website looks like. So just knowing generally like small things that can make that more engaging, we're lucky we have a really, I think we have a really easy to follow a website, like local newspapers, despite like the quality of their work being really good, like, the websites can be really old. And it's just unfortunate because it's not as compelling or engaging to some people. But just knowing simple things that can make that look good. Like breaking up the copy with sub headers, like an easy headline, the kinds of sentences layout, I think that those things are important, too.

Yeah. So would you say your newsroom? is like, actively campaigning for more digital, like multimedia along with the work? Or is it just like if you can do it, go ahead and do it?

Like we? Yeah, I mean, I think it's a we're all pretty. Like we write we make sure we find our art, we come up with the headlines. Something, it's kind of like, it's a lot because nobody signs up for it. But it is really important. They can come up with our social media copy to like, what are tweets going to say a bunch of technical stuff, that I don't know the words, but like when you see an article on Twitter, like making sure that paragraph a little light one under it is it fits in it makes sense. And it's the accurate characters and with like Google searches, we already do that. And I think it's important because you don't have a paper to fill. It's not like this is the first place typically where people are going to see us. So making sure you can do all you can to build that out. Is is important to us. And it's been important since I started I don't think anybody's like fighting to do that. I mean, obviously better at the more time goes on.

Yeah. Okay, so to pivot away from Digital journalism. And kind of back to something you were saying earlier about, like representing just an ordinary people as well. Do issues of inclusivity and representation come up a lot in your work.

Coverage?

Yeah, for coverage, or like, for, just like the general ethics of what the organization is trying to achieve?

Yeah, I mean, it's so it's weird, just in general, because we don't have an office. So we meet regularly over, we don't have to, because we did have those conversations in my last two jobs. But I remember it was always something that happened in the physical workplace. It is, I mean, when we're individually, I guess, as a newsroom, that's not something that we haven't had a lot of that yet. But when I'm working on copy, and I assume like, I guess I can just be myself, when my editor is looking over something, and we're planning who we're going to reach out with, I think that comes up. And I think for any story. I mean, you want to talk to somebody who, you know, has a compelling story, and is going to be easy to read. And you know, obviously there's somebody worth quoting. But you also want somebody who's representative of what, you know, the thing you're counting on is so if it's like the opioid epidemic, you want to talk to somebody who's been dealing with substance use disorder, if it's like racial inequity, or inequality, like you want to talk to somebody who's on the other end of that you don't want to interview like, just a bunch of white people at like a Black Lives Matter protests. So sometimes, that's common sense. Because it's being you know, taught to us that it is something that when we're planning stories, we make sure to the best of our ability, and sometimes there's a time crunch. You know, to the best of our ability, we make sure we talk to people who are you know, can actually speak to what you're recording on, which is why I think that, you know, the importance of like, the like regular person is so important, because public officials can say they're doing whatever they want, solve these problems. I mean, they're not experiencing

Yeah. How do you? How do you make sure that you're humanizing people and not like tokenizing them?

I think that's a really good question that like, I get really anxious whenever I run a story with because it's super important to have regular people, but I'm also really scared. Like, and maybe this is like, thinking too highly of myself. But like, I've seen how you know, in daily journalism, if you're doing these crime stories, where you run some of these mug shots, and their name, years later, when they're doing well, they can’t get a job because of it, you know. Also Yeah, tokenizing is dehumanizing. I think it just, I mean, obviously, you want it to be a newsworthy story and something worth reporting on. So if it's a topic that's important, make sure the person that you're talking to, is fully aware of what you're going to say about them. Because they there's no reason to do gotcha journalism with a normal person. Um, but also make sure like when they're consenting, they know what they're consenting to. And like don't talk them out of like speaking with you, but How to like just, I don't know. So for the same Mingo county story with the opioid epidemic, I mean, we did talk to people who were in recovery from substance use disorder. And they work on this quick response team, like the language differs from state to state, but these are the people that you know, after an overdose happens. Typically they work for the health department or, you know, emergency response, and they go out there and they try to connect the person was overdosed and has been saved to like treatment options. So like a recovery home or inpatient, outpatient, and they just give them resources to keep up with them. So somebody in that team was dealing with recovery. And I mean, I was nervous, but I also felt confident speaking with her, but she was very well, but she was saying, and she'd done this, like, you know, interviews kind of before. And she's in a, you know, better place, and she's aware of what her name being out there means. So I just think it's important to have people like that I think something else that's really important that newsrooms at our newsroom like, I mean, I don't know if we're perfect because you know, he can sometimes you just have to be told you're doing it wrong to understand that so far, we're really good at people first language. And it really it just depends on when you're talking to someone how they wish to be described, but you know, you don't say, like an addict, you say somebody is dealing with addiction. Rather, you say somebody who's dealing with substance use disorder. It just depends. So speaking about people as people first, you know, when you're dealing with jails or prisons, like incarcerated, people aware, versus inmates, I think that's really important for treating people like and I don't know if like, readers who aren't dealing with this issue, notice that kind of stuff, but I think it does make a difference. And, I mean, it kinda reminds people that you're talking to people?

Yes, no, definitely really important. Yeah, I feel like I, I definitely noticed that in stories when I read them, for sure.

Have you personally encountered hate groups or hate speech? In your reporting or while reporting?

Oh, um, I have not. I mean, I think members of hate groups who sometimes you go to events and there but I have not had the opportunity to cover that. At this point. I know, people who have I know it sucks and their concerns, but that's not something that I have a lot of.

Do you think other watchdog journalists like? Is that something that they frequently would deal with? Or?

I think it depends. So I'm in reporting for America. And they are in for four or five of us in the state. I'm not sure. So most of those are in my organization here. There's one reporter in Morgantown where WVU is and he works for 100 days in Appalachia, which is another really good. They're good. They prefer to but he covers I think his beat specifically is white supremacy. But he's done, you know, he goes out and talks to the covers, that kind of thing. So he's exclusively that and additionally taking pictures for other stuff, cuz he's a really good photographer. I mean, he certainly brings like a watchdog aspect to it. And I think it just depends. I mean, there's so many things to cover with that kind of washed up. I like that is something that definitely should be covered and needs to be covered for just in general. But I don't know if anybody in my organization, I'd have to go back. I definitely know their stories really good comes up. But that exclusively not not yet for me, but I can't speak for my colleagues.

I still think it's especially with because I went to school in Minneapolis. So there were I interned at the paper up there and they had a lot of coverage. When, you know, when these protests were happening after the police killed George Floyd. Yeah, there were groups that were actually coming out here that were not involved with that at all. And so these people that I used to intern with had to learn very fast what Voodoo boys were and yeah, they're still covering some of those criminal trials. So it's just interesting. I still think it's being covered now and I think I it's definitely something where we live in West Virginia, Appalachia. In general, but it's not something that I've dug into, like, I just read about it, and I go, oh my god, that's terrible. Yeah.

Yeah, maybe I'm just associating it with a few years ago, cuz there's a few incidents like at our university when I like first came here. And I feel like I was feeling it more on a local level, whereas, uh, not so much anymore. But yeah, it's definitely, of course still there.

Okay, well, would you say? I mean, if you don't have the experience, like having encountered it before, I don't know if you'd know about the ideal way to address it. But have you heard from any colleagues, how they would go about addressing and countering hate speech while reporting?

It's not really a conversation we've had I mean, I know in general, like in classes, I've had an experiences I've had, I think it's true, the lot of things. If it's, I mean, because like, you know, when you ask if we take a stance, like all the way back, like we don't side with people other than, you know, our readers and what's best, but I do think it's pretty, like, universal, that, hey, groups are wrong, and some of these things are bad. offensive and, and just hateful. So I mean, I think and I have no experience in this, but just, especially with things like vaccine misinformation in the election. It's important, I mean, to cover it, and to let people know what's going on, but to not validate it. Yeah. Like, I don't have a lot to elaborate on it. So I haven't had to deal with that. Yeah, I don't know what the best way to do. But I think it's really important just to, you know, somebody says something, like not just running something, because it's a good quote, because it could be hateful, and it might be harmful to your readers. Just in general, like I assume that applies that kind of thing, too. But I was like the election or mental health or, I mean, just anything, like just being responsible about what you run and not running it just because it's catchy, but just making sure that it's important. Yeah, so not validating what they stand for is important. You're governing that. Yeah.

Okay. Thanks for teasing that out with me. I guess like, I only have two more questions, but do you have like a professional position that you're like, aspiring to fill?

Um, I really like what I do. Now. I really, I mean, I just have a I have a cool job, I get to drive out to places and talk to people I haven't met before and learned a bunch of things I don't know. But also, at the end of the day, when I put out a story that just looks good, and it feels good. And I feel like I've got things different from other outlets. It feels really important. I'm like, I am doing something that makes a difference. Yeah. So I don't know I like what I do. Now. I I want to keep being a reporter. I think especially in this industry to I don't know I there's so many people, I do just want to get into like national stuff after this. It's, it's you feel like there are more and more people. I don't know what your interests and aspirations are. But I think like there are more people who were like, wow, like, local journalism is actually kind of cool. And there are things you can do with this. And maybe we need more voices in these matters of interest, like national outlet.

I think there's a lot of it just depends. And we're a new state level organization. So you know, a lot of my job, especially because I go out to places where I mean, people don't go to Charleston a lot. So when I introduce myself, I also have to explain my news organizations, they have never heard of it. But typically, if you're working for like a local news outlet, or even a public broadcasting, like, I feel like there's more trust there, regardless of who you're talking to them sometimes like national outlets. Even when you are a state level news organization, going into a more local community. It's just I don't I don't know that feels good. Like, you feel like you're on their side. Yeah. Like, I live here. It does suck, though, like pay disparities and some really, really local jobs, especially legacy print, but on a extremely local level. I think that is kind of why it's viewed as a stepping stone. And maybe something more sustainable needs to happen there.

And I think sometimes national outlets they don't like they don't understand what they're saying is probably going to come off as offensive or harmful to the community. So yeah, I mean, even if you can't live like directly in the community, you're covering the closest you can get to it. And the more you live there, and the more you keep in touch, like I think it's really important. And I mean with some daily stories you can't do this book longer form stuff like what we do like to keep in touch with people even after you write with them, and you're out there continuously. I mean, in a professional way, but I mean, they're they're human beings, they're not characters, so I think that's

Yeah, definitely just like, establishing trust and relationships. Do you have anything else you want to add? I I think I've kind of hit everything.

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hencethebravery · 7 years ago

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In commemoration of the truly astounding display of public regard for CC thanks to Colin, who is legit an angel (dated 8/19/2017). Not to mention the fact that @mahstatins is a truly amazing mom who is truly v tired and could use some solid flirting. This is established relationship CC. I’m sick of getting them established. They are already together, ok? Modern AU time. TOPICAL modern AU time. Oh, and btw, if u were wondering what their dog (who is named after Sally Ride, because space) looks like.

+ For someone who can’t seem to shut up about constellations and space travel and whatever else not of this Earth, he’s unusually apathetic about the upcoming Event. Which, while scientists have known about it’s coming for quite sometime, it seems to have only just exploded onto the media scene, which means his Facebook is mostly flooded with scams for special glasses and not the latest political nightmare. Although there is that. Never free.

Thing is though, the man has a telescope and a star map and one of those little night lights that projects the constellations of your current geographical location on the ceiling. He’s got a mug, right? David has to remind all of their friends that he did not buy him this mug, he bought it himself, and it says “The rotation of the Earth really makes my day,” like it’s funny—and laughs about it every morning.

So the not caring about the upcoming eclipse? It’s unusual. For him.

“I’ve just been busy lately, love. Honestly,” giving him a peck on the cheek and going about his day, “I appreciate the concern.”

Which, yes, he has been busy. They both have, but they’ve also been dealing with some Liam-related drama (what’s new), and nothing rests heavier on Killian’s shoulders than the latest “Fucked Up Thing Liam’s Said on the Phone,” catastrophe. And usually, Killian shares the latest criticism or blunt (also known as, “rude”) opinion immediately. He’s older now, wiser—less sensitive about Liam’s litany of opinions about his career choices and food choices and how-you-arrange-the-living-room choices and whatever else he can think of. Liam’s a good guy. David is adamant; he’s a good guy that loves his little brother as if he were his own son. But Killian’s not his son, is he?

“I know how hard it was for you guys growing up,” David says for what feels like the millionth time, “but he’s gotta let go a bit, ya know?”

“You don’t need to tell me,” Killian answers for, again, what feels like the millionth time, “I don’t take any of it to heart.”

But he does take it to heart. Of course he does. Killian Jones takes everything to heart and it’s one of the things he loves about him, but it’s also one of those things that makes him soft and vulnerable and sad, only he tries to keep it to himself and that’s when something like a solar eclipse is fucking nigh and he suddenly couldn’t care less.

Which is when he proposes the road trip.

He moans about it at first, mentioning all the work that needs doing and the boat that needs cleaning and how is traveling with the dog supposed to go, and it’s one thing after another until David pulls him a bit roughly into a hug and reminds him (for the millionth time) that it’s all gonna be ok, and it’ll all be here when they get back and they’ve got lots of podcasts to catch up on.

“And I don’t know if you know this,” David whispers conspiratorially, “but the last time a solar eclipse was visible in the U.S., it was 1918.”

“I do know that, actually,” Killian sighs, surrendering to David’s plotting, “Alright, then. I’ll run to the shop.”

It’s a bit last minute, and it’s a good 20 hour drive, and being prepared for such a trip with the dog (”Her name is Sally,” he had rather drunkenly decided the night before they took her home, “our intrepid lass.”) is a bit of a to-do, but whatever, David knows it’ll be worth it. A little stress now, a lot of pop music, coffee, and about a dozen hand-rolled cigarettes later. He figures he can let up on the no smoking rule for this.

“But just this once, you hear me?”

“Bloody hell, Dave, yes.”

They’re packed up and ready to go in about a day, setting out at an ungodly hour a day or so before the eclipse is supposed to take place. They’ll be driving through a few states, but given the time crunch, they can’t make as many stops as they’d like. Maybe on the way back. They do have to make a decent amount of stops for Sally, including one in New York closer to the Finger Lakes. Luckily, or not so luckily, there are about a hundred incredible wineries along the way and they get a little stuck.

“This tastes like actual candy,” Killian mumbles into his glass, he’d loudly protest only he can’t seem to stop drinking it.

“I don’t see it stopping you.”

It’s some kind of raspberry dessert wine, only it tastes nothing like wine and they’re imbibing the stuff like it’s water. This particular winery is a little bit in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by vibrant, lush meadows dotted with wildflowers; sloping, seemingly infinite hills in the distance.

“We could just stay here,” Killian suggests with his eyes closed, a hand resting on Sally’s head. “12 more hours in the car isn’t the most appealing.”

David grabs his hand, swiping his thumb back and forth over Killian’s knuckles. “Maybe,” he says, conceding the point, “but 1918.”

Eventually they sober up and move a little further on down the road.

In Ohio they pull off to the side of a road and eat some raw corn on the cob (Sally too, of course). It’s juicier than expected, even without being cooked. It’s sweet without being saccharine, a refreshing and floral bite aided by the sight of corn fields and red pick-up trucks and frightening billboards about the Devil. They buy a bag for about 3 bucks and continue on, the strains of Fleetwood Mac and Paul Simon following after one another—windows rolled down, the air smelling vaguely of diesel and freshly turned dirt.

They hadn’t really told anyone before they fled, their only notice a picture of their clasped hands on Instagram, resting over the gearshift, “1918,” the caption reads simply, “brb.”

They find a reasonably empty campground right outside of Hopkinsville, Kentucky. There’s a few families with strangely well-behaved children, a small group of women on some kind of vision quest, and a few students from a nearby university. Killian seems to deflate at the prospect of mostly silence.

They arrive the night before, setting up the tent and feeding Sally before collapsing on top of their sleeping bags, legs entwined. Killian usually wakes up first, listens to Sally’s snuffling, Dave’s soft breathing in his ear.

“You happy we’re here?” David asks quietly, observing the thoughtful expression on Killian’s face. Taking note of the crustiness at the corner of his eyes, the soft, still almost-asleep way he stares up at the sky through the mesh of the tent.

"Very much,” answering with a kiss, offering reassurance with a squeeze to the forearm wrapped around his stomach. “Rather this than being tortured with the regret.”

"Didn’t you know?” David snorts, “That’s why I did this. There’d be no living with you otherwise.”

“So a selfish endeavor then.”

“Obviously.”

Around noon, the moon makes its way in front of the sun. By around 1:30 PM it achieves totality, and it’s twilight in the middle of the day—surreal but beautiful. A rooster crows in the distance, the nighttime insects begin to chirp as if they’ve been rudely awakened, and David can’t keep his eyes off Killian’s face.

A lot of the websites he’d visited had said there would just be too much going on to really focus—you’d have to decide what it is you choose to look at, only he hadn’t really anticipated that it’d be the person he’s looked at everyday of his life for the past 5 years. He looks almost inhuman in this near total darkness, his features taking on an edge, a clarity that he’s never been able to appreciate before now.

“Can you believe such a thing is possible?” Killian says softly, in awe, almost as if he were talking to himself.

“No,” he answers, smiling at the sight of Killian’s high, joyful cheeks, “not at all.”

#ouat ff #cc ff #cc fanfic #cc drabble #captain charming #cc: saved my life #@hencethewriter #fuck #how do u describe an eclipse #btw i got very close #to having a proposal in this fic #so close

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loveinthemadness · 8 years ago

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So I was tagged by @neeharlow, which just about caused me to shit myself (not literally) because wwwhhhhyyyyy? I just stay over and quietly mind my own business, how do you even know I exist??! Rules: Answer the questions in a new post and tag 20 blogs you would like to get to know better. A - Age: 26 B – Birthplace: Lexigton Kentucky C - Current Time: 7:32pm D - Drink You Last Had: water E - Easiest Person To Talk To: My best friend. F - Favourite Song: Teignmouth by Patrick Wolf G - Grossest Memory: Honestly, I dunno. I cant think of anything right now! I mean, I guess one time I babysat for a toddler that had like the explosive runs and that was awful to clean up. Just so much gross to clean up. (I hate wiping butts if the kid has pooped, its worse when its when they're sick. I'm a wimp, I know.)So that maybe? H - Horror Yes or Horror No: Yes!!!!!!! I - In Love?: Do fictional characters count??? If not, then no. J - Jealous of People?: I am at times, but not normally. And when I am jealous, its over really stupid shit. But normally, no, I'm not. K - Killed Someone?: First off, who the hell would admit to that if they have? Secondly, no, I haven't. I'm not a violent person, yo. L - Love At First Sight Or Should I Walk By Again: Love at first sight is bullshit. M - Middle Name: Marie N - Number of Siblings: One. A brother, 8 years older than me. He's kinda one of my best friends. O - One Wish: Honest to god, I wish I could just fucking eat dairy again so I can have some of that really good pizza from the place down the road from me. Y'all dont understand, since we last upped my Lithium, I cant eat anything with dairy shit in it. And it makes me so sad/angry. P - Person You Called Last: My mom, like three days ago to remind her to pick up whatever it was we needed to finish dinner that night. I usually dont call people. Anxiety is a bitch, my friends. I dont answer my phone either. Q - Question You Are Always Asked: "Hey! Have you read/know anything about this book/?" Like from everyone because I read all the time and so I'm apparently the go to gal for that. R - Reason to Smile: There's lots of reasons to smile, but I think my guinea pigs are the top ones. They're my babies and I adore them! S - Song You Sang Last: Do You Believe In Magic T - Time You Woke Up: 8-something this morning U - Underwear Colour: bluish-gray V - Vacation Destination: I really don't like going new places. And I dont like places where there's lots of people. I don't people well at all. So nowhere. W - Worst Habit: Picking at my skin. When I'm uncomfortable or overwhelmed or freaking out internally I just sit and pick and shred the skin off the backs of my fingers and hands and arms. I've got some not so lovely scarring from that actually. Its not fun. X - X-rays: The mouth ones from the dentist. I dont know if there's been more. Probably has been. Y - Your favourite food: My momma's chicken pot pie. Z - Zodiac Sign: Leo And now I guess I gots to tag some folks. Hmm. @marisol-solar @mud-brown-eyed-girl @kyloxdriver @letsboldlygomotherfuckers @mugglelissa

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poisonbooknerd · 7 years ago

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Say You’ll Remember Me by Katie McGarry

From critically acclaimed author Katie McGarry, comes SAY YOU’LL REMEMBER ME—a story of two people from different worlds pushing themselves, and each other, to get what they deserve!

SAY YOU’LL REMEMBER ME is now available at all fine book retailers. Grab your copy today!

SAY YOU’LL REMEMBER ME Synopsis:

"Doesn't matter who did it. Not anymore. I did the time. It's over."

When Drix was convicted of a crime--one he didn't commit--he thought his life was over. But opportunity came with the Second Chance Program, the governor's newest pet project to get delinquents off the streets, rehabilitated and back into society. Drix knows this is his chance to get his life back on track, even if it means being paraded in front of reporters for a while.

Elle knows she lives a life of privilege. As the governor's daughter, she can open doors with her name alone. But the expectations and pressure to be someone she isn't may be too much to handle. She wants to follow her own path, whatever that means.

When Drix and Elle meet, their connection is immediate, but so are their problems. Drix is not the type of boy Elle's parents have in mind for her, and Elle is not the kind of girl who can understand Drix's messy life.

But sometimes love can breach all barriers.

Fighting against a society that can't imagine them together, Drix and Elle must push themselves--Drix to confront the truth of the robbery, and Elle to assert her independence--and each other to finally get what they deserve.

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EXCERPT:

Hendrix

“Everyone says you have a blank slate.” My brother Axle sits beside me on the ground, arms resting on his bent knees, and he stares at the bonfire I built with my own two hands with only flint and sticks. It’s one of the many tricks I learned over the last three months. That and how to survive on my own in the middle of nowhere. Trees and bears I can handle. It’s not knowing who I can trust, now that I’m home, that’s the problem. Axle knows this. It’s why he’s next to me as our friends and family walk around the backyard for the impromptu “Welcome Home” party I told Axle I didn’t want. Someone in this yard is the reason why I spent a year away from home for a crime I didn’t commit. My neck tenses, and I roll it in an attempt to release the anger. It took me close to eight months to find some Zen, and it has taken less than thirty minutes for some of the old underlying rage that followed me around like a black thunderhead to return. Across from us, two girls I used to go to school with are roasting marshmallows. They’re waiting for me to talk to them. That’s who I was before: the smooth talker, the guy who made girls laugh and caused them to light up with a few specially chosen words. The right smile dropped at the right time, and panties would be shed. But I don’t feel up for conversation and I don’t feel like manipulating anyone anymore. Crazy—I used to thrive when surrounded by people. The more, the better. But after being in juvenile detention for seven months and spending three in the wilderness taking part in an Outward Bound program for troubled teens, I’m more at ease by myself in front of a fire. “They’ve all confirmed you’re walking out of all this with sealed records,” Axle continues. Hel’s leaving out the part of how those records only remain sealed if I uphold my end of the plea deal—the agreement I made with the district attorney after I was arrested. I agreed to plead guilty, and the DA didn’t charge me as an adult and send me to hard-core prison. Considering we had no money for a lawyer to help prove my innocence, the deal sounded like the better of two bad options. “You’re getting a massive second chance,” Axle says. It was rotten luck that got me into this mess, but it happened at the right time. Our governor was searching for screwed-up teens to use for his pilot program. Someone high up in the world thought I stood a chance at turning my life around, but that second chance comes with a price. A price my brother is currently breaking down for me. “This is a good thing. A blank slate. Not many people get one of those.” Blank slate. That’s what I’m scared of. I may not have liked parts of the person I was before I was arrested, but at least I knew who I was. This blank slate, this chance to create someone new, scares me. This is a new type of pressure. At least I had a good excuse for being a delinquent before. Now, if I mess up, it’s because I’m truly broke. The fire crackles then pops, and embers rise into the late May night. My younger sister laughs at the other end of the narrow yard near the aging shotgun house, and the sound is like an eight-eight beat with a high hat cymbal. It’s welcomed, and it’s the first time this feels like home. She’s sixteen now, grown up faster than I’d prefer, and she’s one of the four people I love more than my own life. She’s also the only reason I’m still out here instead of holed up in my room. According to Axle, it was Holiday’s idea to set up the party. Old Christmas lights are strung from one towering oak tree to the next, zigzagging green, red and blue across the yard. Most people brought their own chairs and a dish to share. My first meal as a free man and it’s hamburgers, hot dogs and potato salad. I don’t have the heart to tell her I would have given my left ball for a slice of thick crust pizza. “She missed you,” Axle says, catching my train of sight. “I missed her, too.” Those are my first words since we pulled in the driveway. I used to be the life of the party, but that was before, and as I said, I don’t know who I am anymore, so for now, I’m quiet. “I missed you,” he says in such a low tone I barely catch it. “We weren’t the same without you.” I take a deep breath because I’m not sure any of us will be the same again.

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About Katie McGarry:

Katie McGarry was a teenager during the age of grunge and boy bands and remembers those years as the best and worst of her life. She is a lover of music, happy endings, reality television, and is a secret University of Kentucky basketball fan. Katie is the author of full length YA novels, PUSHING THE LIMITS, DARE YOU TO, CRASH INTO YOU, TAKE ME ON, BREAKING THE RULES, and NOWHERE BUT HERE and the e-novellas, CROSSING THE LINE and RED AT NIGHT. Her debut YA novel, PUSHING THE LIMITS was a 2012 Goodreads Choice Finalist for YA Fiction, a RT Magazine's 2012 Reviewer's Choice Awards Nominee for Young Adult Contemporary Novel, a double Rita Finalist, and a 2013 YALSA Top Ten Teen Pick. DARE YOU TO was also a Goodreads Choice Finalist for YA Fiction and won RT Magazine’s Reviewer’s Choice Best Book Award for Young Adult Contemporary fiction in 2013.

#sayyoullrememberme #katie mcgarry #katiemcgarry #thunderroad #thunder road #pigpen #dare you to #pushing the limits #pushingthelimits

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