#this drawing took me approximately 30 seconds so if it gets more notes than my painting from yesterday im going to eat my tablet

[autisticaradiamegido]

day 163

love that for him

[engagemachine]

"You're so gentle," she tells me. They all say it. I hear it from my patients every time I take their arm to wrap the blood pressure cuff around it, or when I place my stethoscope on their belly, or when I rub circles into their back when I've helped them sit up on the side of the bed for the first time in three days. Sometimes they cry, because it's the first tender touch they've felt since they've been in the hospital. It's very humbling and at the same time very concerning -- why has no one else offered this tenderness to you? Why am I always the first?

But I don't feel gentle. Not when a pair of ribs are cracking beneath my hands as I'm doing chest compressions on a Covid patient who's stopped breathing--the second time I've administered CPR on a Covid patient in two days. I don't feel gentle when I'm wrestling with a patient and begging for them to keep their oxygen mask on. When I have to hold them down and hold them still so my coworker can draw a blood sample. I don't feel gentle when I'm inserting a nasogastric tube down someone's nose, then throat, and into their belly while they're gagging around the tube and their arms are flailing. And I don't feel gentle when I'm washing a sacral wound with bleach and they're crying because it hurts. I don't feel gentle when I have to shout, beg, and plead for patients to listen, when I tell patients they're going to die if they don't keep their oxygen mask on. I don't feel gentle when I have to place a patient in restraints, or when I call a family member and tell them that their loved one's condition hasn't improved. I don't feel gentle when a patient tells me they can't breathe, they can't breathe, I can't breathe, and I'm yelling for coworkers to call the doctor while I'm cycling through different oxygen masks and trying to administer medication to slow their respirations and calm their anxiety.

I'm writing this because I feel like I've been living a little bit behind a veneer on here, although I know deep down that's not really true; I have always wanted my blog to feel like a positive space for anyone and everyone, including myself. I come here to have fun and destress and that's why you usually don't see me reblogging content having to do with politics or global news. I think it's possible to create a healthy space where one does talk about those things and spreads awareness for important causes, but for me, Tumblr is where I come when I need to escape the harsh realities of real life. This is my platform where I can indulge in my fictional proclivities and interests, where I can appreciate art, photography, beautiful writing, my favorite films, music, and cute animals. That's what this space is about. I also have loved meeting new people and getting to know my readers and making new friends and chatting about my stories. That's why I'm here and I thank you all so, so much for indulging me in my passions and for encouraging my writing the way that you have: it has helped me weather the current storm of stress I am feeling in more ways than I could possibly convey.

But I have to be very honest with you all about how much I've been struggling lately, as I feel like I'm reaching a breaking point and I'm somewhat at a loss for how to handle it.

Since September of last year, I've been on an accelerated track to finish the degree I'm working towards, which is a Bachelor of Science in Nursing. I've been a nurse for four years, but I graduated from a two-year nursing program versus a four-year program because I wanted to get into the field earlier than some of my peers, which has been great. Anyway, my school counselor/mentor and I agreed that I could obtain my BSN in a year if I really pushed myself. The program I'm in is self-paced, which has been both a blessing and a curse. Most of my classes I have finished in about three to four weeks. Other classes, like biochemistry, took substantially longer, about seven or eight weeks, if I remember correctly. All of the classes have relied on my ability to self-teach, as there are no scheduled lectures to attend, only assigned readings and videos to watch, if you choose to do so. Fast forward to the end of May, when I went to visit some family, and, upon my return home, really started to lose some of my motivation to complete my classes. I was meant to finish my program in August (this month) but agreed with my mentor that I would take a short break and put my last three classes on hold so that I could resume the program in September. I've enjoyed approximately a month off from school, but "enjoyed" is a term I use loosely here as I was also picking up extra shifts at work because we've been so short staffed and losing nurses left and right.

Which brings me to the main cause of my stress. This pandemic has completely changed the landscape for how I administer care to my patients, and the stress of the care itself has been so utterly overwhelming at times I can hardly bear it. I broke down in tears at work on Sunday morning, shortly after 4:30 am, right there at the the nurse's station, and was sobbing so hard that my supervisor had to pull me away so that I could have some privacy. I wish I could tell you that I sobbed harder than I have in a long time--but I had sobbed at work with that same intensity just four weeks prior, only, I had been alone at the time. It's becoming a trend--I either cry at work or I cry at home--because the stress of this job has become unbearable.

I wish--I desperately wish--I could convey to you the seriousness of Covid. I think so much of the world has already decided to move on from it because they're so tired of having to deal with it and, quite simply, are ready to return to normal. I don't even know what normal is anymore and when--or if--we'll ever be able to return to it. And that has caused me a fair amount of stress and anxiety in and of itself. I miss traveling so much and I don't know when I'll be able to do it again. I haven't seen one of my best friends since the fall of 2018 for this reason, which kills me.

I've seen so much death. Transferred so many patients to the PCU and ICU. Frantically chased patients' oxygen saturation, trying to keep them from circling the drain. Being responsible for six or seven human lives at one time is a stress you cannot fathom unless you have done it yourself. I have cried with a patient, a young woman, who had lost her husband to Covid only hours before in the ER, a young woman who was now faced with battling Covid herself but also planning the funeral of her high school sweetheart from her hospital bed. I have wheeled a patient to the ICU so that he could say one final goodbye to his wife--married for over 50 years--before they pulled the plug and removed her from the ventilator. I have raced down the hallway with my patient on BIPAP, pushing his bed to the ICU and praying that he doesn't stop breathing on the way there. I've had to console crying family members over the phone who are worried about their loved ones, not to mention my crying coworkers who are as overwhelmed as I am. These are just a handful of experiences from the past month alone. There are so many more.

The discomfort of my job has become secondary. I expect, now, to be wearing an N95 for a full twelve or thirteen-hour shift because there isn't time to take it off. Not having a chance to pee or go to the bathroom during that time. Not drinking any water until I'm in my car and taking off my mask and finally taking a deep breath.

On a more personal note, I am continuing to lose weight and it's so discouraging. In high school I used to wear a size 2 or 4. Now, depending on the brand, I wear a double 00. My hair is falling out because of my stress. I haven't slept during the night in... I don't even know how long. I'm constantly tired. Exhaustion hits me like a great tidal wave and I am powerless to stop it. I expect now to crash during the middle of the day on my couch, only to wake up at 11pm and be wide awake for the rest of the night, and, if not wide awake, then in an out of nightmares and sleep paralysis. I have thought about leaving my job, but the idea of job hunting during a pandemic, and while I'm in school... it just makes me feel even more stressed.

I need a break, but it feels like there's nowhere to go to escape. I fantasize about some great adventure, going somewhere I've never been, but I also really miss my family and I'm scared to go home to visit.

This post doesn't really have a conclusive ending. I'm just exhausted and overwhelmed. Any prayers/thoughts would be greatly appreciated.

[clotpole-art]

Retrospective: Illustrated Merlin Alphabet Challenge

Finally finished the Merlin Alphabet Challenge, so here's the artist notes no one asked for! See below the cut for comments on each piece by order of creation. Be warned folks, it's a long post.

Before we begin: credit to @merlin-gifs for the challenge, which can be found here. It's awesome, go do it.

First thing you should know is I did probably 80-90% of these while on phone calls or in Zoom meetings and that's reflected in the simplicity of most pieces -- the compositions aren't complicated, the lines aren't refined, the coloring is slapdash. If you noticed variation in quality of the pieces, that's why!

Second: I tried to focus on trying something new for each drawing. Didn't always happen, but this challenge did succeed in helping me push me out of my own comfort zone.

Without further ado...

A is for Arthur Pendragon

Textures, baby! Brushed metal of his armor, scratchy linen texture of his shirt, wispy softness of hair and skin. I'd recently gotten my tablet out of storage after a year of figuring out where the hell I was going to live and this was one of the first pieces of digital art I spent time on. Glad it was Arthur kicking us off!

B is for the Beginning of the End (1x08)

Fun fact, I did not draw this with my tablet. I drew it with my work computer's touchscreen. It was awful, would not recommend.

C is for Camelot

I wanted to get used to different brushes, so landscape of the castle it was! There are brushes that help with drawing grass; I did not use said brushes and my wrist hurt afterward. That being said, I really enjoyed working on this and it was one of the few pieces I didn't do while multitasking.

D is for Daegal

Also drawn on my work computer's touchscreen, not my tablet. I didn't learn my lesson from B and the experience was even worse. This is my least favorite piece which sucks because it's Daegal so I'm slated to redo this sometime in the near future. Gotta do our boy justice.

E is for Elyan

Oh, I adored drawing this. Elyan often gets shafted in terms of fandom appreciation so I made sure to choose Elyan for this prompt and to participate in the Elyan fest. Plus, I love a good ghost story and figuring out a way to include the druid spectre was fun. Didn't multitask on this piece because Elyan deserved my full attention.

F is for Freya

Ho boy. This piece. I have such mixed feelings on this drawing. Really really didn't like it after I'd decided it was done and very nearly scrapped the whole thing. I had a vision in my head that I just couldn't render into reality and it frustrated me SO MUCH. Looking back, I like it much better than I did when I first created it.

G is for Gwaine

What can I say, he's pretty when he's cold. I didn't stretch too much with this one -- it's my normal drawing style, I was just trying to find a brush that mimicked the softness of pencil.

H is for Hunith

Another one that didn't stray too far from my comfort zone. I was stupid sick and slammed at work, so a motherly Hunith manifested herself. I blame the bad brush choice on the cold medicine.

I is for Isolde

I woke up and chose violence! Tried to vary my figure drawing style a little in this piece but my brain resisted, resulting in... this. Not mad at it, but not happy with it either. Poor Isolde.

J is for Juggling

Ah, this lovely piece was drawn during a particularly vexing meeting at work. Fun fact, there's another version of this line art that's less about Merlin's stress and more about mine.

K is for Knights of Camelot

Continuing the theme of doodling through bad news and shit meetings. Like I said above, normally meeting doodles aren't complex because I'm concentrating on something else. This one was more involved because I didn't want to concentrate on the meeting. I have a few issues with this from a technical standpoint (perspective, my nemesis) but it's still one of my favorites. Tried some funky coloring technique, didn't hate it.

V is for Vibrant Colors

And here is where we said fuck the rules and started going out of alphabetical order! This one was really fun to do and I loved kicking off Albion Party with this as my first submission. The colors were a challenge (as I hoped they would be) and this is the first time I had to do some color tweaking midway though and after finishing the coloring process. Vibrant Arthur, my beloved. This started as a multitask doodle but took dedicated time to finish.

O is for Old Religion

The concept for this one was buzzing in my head for a bit before a quote-prompt solidified it. I adore the thought of more visible, tangible representations of Merlin as the son of the elements, of "magic itself" -- not just sun-gold eyes, but sea-water hair and sandstone-skin. A complement to the vibrant Arthur portrait.

S is for Sorcerers

When I said I wanted to challenge myself, I wasn't kidding. Ho boy, this was fun but frustrating. I wanted to completely illustrate a gif. So I did. Will I do something like this again? Maybe. A while from now.

M is for Morgause

See above -- same illustrated gif style so at least I was able to reuse some drawings. Poor Morgause ended up looking a little wretched here because I was mentally done with this when I was drawing her. Love the concept of tarot cards + Merlin but others are doing it so I won't continue this series.

Z is for Zzzz

This one was specifically done to test out some custom brushes I made in Krita to make abstract background drawing easier for me. I think they turned out well! Plus who doesn't love bb iridescent Aithusa.

L is for Leon, P is for Percival

Quick, minimal doodles of the boys! Mentally, I was going for a Brady's-style retro ensemble cast TV show credits feel. Not mad at it! Some boys look closer to their actors than others (I think my brain broke drawing Percy, my apologies to Tom Hopper).

T is for Tristan

It wasn't until after I posted this that I realized there was more than one Tristan in Merlin. Could have drawn Isolde's bf but I drew Ygraine's dumb jock undead brother instead. Had some fun with dark greys and blacks here regardless.

Q is for Queen Annis

Best royal in Albion, bar none. I tried a different coloring technique here and I kinda like it! may make it my go-to but we'll see. Old habits are hard to break. Also: our queen deserved more badass clothes.

X is for Arthur X Merlin

Oh, be still my shipper heart. Doodled and colored during a meeting. I had hoped to spend more time on it outside of multitasking but alas, work is a bitch. This one is slated for a rework sometime in the future; I adore the concept too much to let it go without creating another version of this that isn't an utter mess.

U is for Uther's Ward

And here's my attempt at forgoing line art. Not fun, do not like.

Y is for Young Warlock

Channeled some pain into this one. Those are the dead eyes of someone who had been told that he'd succeeded when his friend died. That the destiny he'd been expecting to carry on his shoulders into old age was done and dusted before he turned 30. Grief plus the existential dread of the aimless immortal. Oof. One of my favs.

N is for Nimueh, R is for Rising Sun, W is for Will

And we end on this sorry offering. I was away from home for a while without my tablet and I just got tired of waiting. So, pen doodles at the airport. This was a challenge in its own right because 1. pen only and 2. I wasn't able to pull Netflix up for a reference on the fly. Which is why Will's face is obscured and Nimueh looks.... not like Nimueh lol.

In summary: this was a goddamn joy to do. I finished 26 letter prompts in approximately 21 weeks, which exceeded my own unspoken goal of filling one letter per week. I found a good, happy corner of the Merlin fandom after a years-long hiatus away from being a fandom creator. If you did make it this far with me, thanks for reading my inane comments and giving this little project even a moment of your time -- I'm so grateful.

[thecoleopterawithana]

Your quote: "So perhaps, when in 1989 Paul asks “Did I ever take you in my arms, look you in the eye, tell you that I do” the part that he “never did” was the latter"( with John according to your perspective??)--I saw a video where Paul says he's talking about how the workaday life meant he sometimes took marriage and Linda for granted--like we all do our spouses at times--and that was why he wrote that song. Your take please? Respectfully inquiring--thanks!

Hello, anon dear. Thanks so much for your respectful request! Especially considering that every opportunity I get to talk about “This One” is a personal pleasure.

I believe the video you were referring to is this one (eheh), where correspondent Bernard Goldberg interviews Paul for the TV series 48 Hours. The episode follows part of The Paul McCartney World Tour, which marked not only his first major tour outing in ten years, but also the first time in his solo career that a substantial number of Beatles songs were included in the setlist.

Paul is asked about “This One” near the 8:30 mark of the first video and his answer continues in the second part.

Here is a transcription of the segment in question:

-

Q: Let me ask you about one of the new songs, “This One”. Is it about a marriage?

Paul: A relationship, yeah.

Q: And about, not expressing emotions and feelings?

[Paul performing “This One”]

Paul: You get those moments, sort of late at night or when you’re feeling good and you think, “Oh, you know, it’d be great to kind of— I hope I tell her I love her enough, and all that.” And then come the morning, when you’ve got to get off to the office and it’s [yawns] “Okay, goodbye, love you!”, and so on. And, you know, life’s like that. And there’s never kind of enough time to— If you like your parents for instance, to tell them, “God, just what you meant to me.” 

[Paul performing “This One”]

Paul: You always think, “Well, I’m saving it up. I’ll tell ‘em one day.” And what happens with a lot of people is— Something like John, for instance, getting back to that subject. He died. 

I was lucky. The last few wee— months that he was alive, we’d managed to get our relationship back on track. And we were talking and having real good conversations. Real nice and friendly. But George, actually, didn’t, I don’t think, get his relationship right. They were arguing right up to the end. Which I’m sure is a source of great sadness to him. And I’m sure, in the feeling of this song, that George was always planning to tell John he loved him. But time ran out. And that’s what the song is about. There never could be a better moment than this one, you know, now. Take this moment to say, [hesitates] “I love you.” [Laughs] It’s not quite the same. 

-

Now, about your question. I take you were wondering why in the post you quoted me on I used an excerpt of this song to hypothesize about a facet of Paul and John’s relationship. 

Allow me to begin by saying that, as the wonderful @amoralto pointed out in the aforementioned post, one should be cautious about what kind of information we’re extracting from an art form like songs. The sources of inspiration can be multiple, and the exact meaning of the piece elusive even to its author. So it’s probably best to be prudent about taking the lyrics too literally or extrapolating the entire song as to be about a single situation/person. 

Nevertheless, there are still certain patterns and themes that keep emerging, and I am curious about examining those. And being songs one of the places where they more openly communicated and truly laid bare their feelings, I believe the tumble down the rabbit hole of speculation might be worth it, just to see what we may find there. 

As Paul put it:

The idea is that what I’ll leave behind me will be music, and I may not be able to tell you everything I feel, but you’ll be able to feel it when you listen to my music. I won’t have the time or the articulation to be able to say it all, but if you enjoy composing you say it through the notes.

Of course, John also said:

When Paul and I write a song, we try and take hold of something we believe in – a truth. We can never communicate 100 per cent of what we feel, but if we can convey just a fraction, we have achieved something. We try to give people a feeling – they don’t have to understand the music if they can just feel the emotion. This is half the reason the fans don’t understand, but they experience what we are trying to tell them.

So maybe we can experience the emotion they infused the song with, but not always be able to understand the circumstances that gave rise to it in their own lives.

To find that last crucial piece of the puzzle, one has to truly contextualise the song. And that’s where all the other more tangible sources of information come in, such as quotes and timelines. 

Of course, drawing conclusions from any kind of data is, in itself, an interpretation. And an inescapably personal one at that. 

The only way to approximate objectivity is through critical thinking and emotional intelligence. Continuously question your own assumptions and those of others, and don’t be attached to any one answer. Be willing to change your views based on new information and be open to considering new perspectives. I find that input from others is invaluable in drawing my attention to an angle I’d previously missed. For if our personal experiences sometimes blind us to certain facets of the subject we’re examining, they also give us a more intimate understanding of other sides of it, as we’ve walked in those same shoes before and know precisely what it feels like.

What I essentially mean with this disclaimer is that this is my current interpretation of the information. And my answers are usually so slow and long (my apologies) because I try to provide the data so that you can draw your own conclusions.

That settled, here is how I interpret Paul’s explication of “This One”. 

The interviewer begins by asking if the song is about a marriage and Paul sightly corrects him that it’s about a relationship. 

Then Goldberg posits his theory regarding the theme: “not expressing emotions and feelings.” And Paul goes on to explain, in his usual inclusive and generalising fashion: 

You get those moments, sort of late at night or when you’re feeling good and you think, “Oh, you know, it’d be great to kind of— I hope I tell her I love her enough, and all that.” And then come the morning, when you’ve got to get off to the office and it’s [yawns] “Okay, goodbye, love you!”, and so on.

He uses the second person to emphasize how the reporter must share his feelings — ‘you know what I mean, right?’ — thus making his experiences not only more relatable and perceivable, but it also slightly removes the focus from himself. You put it best when you said, “like we all do […] at times.”

He does start by giving the example of an apparently marital routine. And though it could have been chosen as something the interviewer would more quickly relate to, it may also be that he had difficulty “expressing emotions and feelings” in his marriage with Linda. He has spoken of such hurdles in his relationship with Nancy, which he expressed in his 2013 hidden track “Scared”. 

Well, I’m just like anybody else, man! You know? You get those moments. I don’t normally write about them; but it’s a good thing to use. I was feeling it, as well. I was newly in love with Nancy, and I was finding it a little difficult to say, ‘I love you.’ Number one, I’m a guy, and that’s a big excuse, I know, but it is a bit true to form…

— Paul McCartney, interview with Miranda Sawyer for The Guardian (13 October 2013).

So I slightly disagree with your assessment that the song is about “how the workaday life meant he sometimes took marriage and Linda for granted”. I don’t think he took his relationship with Linda for granted as much as he was unable to openly express how much it meant to him. He got inundated by “those moments” of love and appreciation, but then kind of used the hustle and bustle of everyday life as an excuse not to dwell on the discomfort of having to confess them.

I think it’s perhaps more accurate to say that the matter of “expressing emotions and feelings”, particularly actually saying “I love you”, is something that Paul has struggled with all his life and pervaded most of his relationships.

He even goes on to give the example of his parents, and how he wished he’d tell them, “God, just what you meant to me.” Which is a similar phrasing to the one he uses in “Scared”, more than two decades later:

I’m scared to say I love you / Afraid to let you know / That the simplest of words won’t come out of my mouth / Though I’m dying to let them go / Trying to let you know […]I’m still too scared to tell you / Afraid to let you see / That the simplest of words won’t come out of my mouth / Though I’m dying to set them free / Trying to let you see, how much it means to me / How much you mean to me / How much you mean to me now

But the relationship in which this theme of not expressing emotions and feelings seems most stark, at least as Paul expressed it publicly and in his music, is in his relationship with John.

He puts it quite plainly in another quote about “Scared”:

Paul: You can actually say, “I love you,” to someone, but it’s quite hard. And so that’s why it’s usually easier when you’re a bit drunk. It’s like ‘Here Today’ [on 1982’s Tug of War], which was for John, and there is the line, (sings) “Du du du du du du du, I love you,” and it is a bit of a moment in the song. It would be a bit like Keith Richards saying to Mick, “I love you.” I mean he does, but I’m not sure he’s going to say it. I’m sure the Gallaghers love each other on some level, probably quite deeply, but that certainly isn’t going to get said soon. I think it’s quite an interesting subject and I felt it most recently with [wife] Nancy, I knew I loved her but to actually say, “I love you,” you know, it’s just not that easy.

— Paul McCartney,  interview with Pat Gilbert for MOJO (November 2013).

Note that even here, in a quote about a song he wrote for Nancy, he harkens back to his experiences with having difficulty saying “I love you” to John. 

Paul even mentions that it’s easier to do it “when you’re a bit drunk” — I want to tell her that I love her a lot / But I gotta get a bellyful of wine — which seems to be a reference to “the night we cried”. That night in Key West in 1964 was an “important emotional landmark”, not only because they exposed themselves emotionally by crying, but they also may have actually said the big ‘I Love You’.

One night, we got pretty drunk and argued and laughed, and it ended up us both crying, because it was, you know at the height of your drunkenness, when you’re all, “Hey man, I love you, man. No, I love you, man.” That was probably the only time we just got that kind of intimate with each other. It’s a male machismo embarrassment thing. I mean, you might say to a girl, “I love you”, but in my case, within the group, The Beatles, it would have been difficult, even though we all did love each other. You just all had to be guys to the full. We were all rough, tough cream puffs.

— Paul McCartney, interview with the Daily Mail (4 June 2016).

He attributes his difficulty to a “male machismo embarrassment thing”, and that he could say “I love you” to a girl but not to his mates. But in his 2013 interview for The Guardian, he also points to the fact that he is a guy to explain his difficulties verbally expressing his love Nancy. 

But adding to the “stiff upper lip” imposed on northern lads, Paul himself is especially guarded about his feelings:

It’s funny because just in real life, I find that a challenge. I like to sort of, not give too much away. Like you said, I’m quite private. Why should people, know my innermost thoughts? That’s for me, they’re innermost. But in a song, that’s where you can do it. That’s the place to put them. You can start to reveal truths and feelings. You know, like in ‘Here Today’ where I’m saying to John “I love you”. I couldn’t have said that, really, to him. But you find, I think, that you can put these emotions and these deeper truths – and sometimes awkward truths; I was scared to say “I love you”. So that’s one of the things that I like about songs.

— Paul McCartney, on the challenge of giving too much of himself away when writing meaningful and truthful songs. Asked by Simon Pegg and interviewed by John Wilson for BBC 4’s Mastertapes (24 May 2016).

More than the pleasure associated with creating something out of nothing — “songwriting is like sex” — music also offers the utter relief of unburdening Paul of his feelings, which he finds great difficulty in exorcising in a more direct way:

Songwriting is like psychiatry; you sit down and dredge up something that’s inside, bring it out front. And I just had to be real and say, John, I love you. I think being able to say things like that in songs can keep you sane.

— Paul McCartney, interview with Robert Palmer for the New York Times (25 April 1982).

There was an inescapable need to come out, be real, and say to John, “I love you”; even if he has to “write it to the great record player in the sky”. 

Because more than speaking of a fear of expressing emotions and feelings in Paul’s day to day life — like in “Scared” — “This One” is clearly about the regret of doing it too late:

[L]ife’s like that. And there’s never kind of enough time to— […] You always think, “Well, I’m saving it up. I’ll tell ‘em one day.” And what happens with a lot of people is— Something like John, for instance, getting back to that subject. He died. […] And I’m sure, in the feeling of this song, that George was always planning to tell John he loved him. But time ran out. And that’s what the song is about. There never could be a better moment than this one, you know, now. Take this moment to say, [hesitates] “I love you.” [Laughs] It’s not quite the same. 

Even with his usual emotional distancing by projecting onto George and using “we” instead of “I”, Paul plainly explains the song is about cautioning people to take this moment to say “I love you”, at the risk of having time ran out on them as it happened with him and John.

And one can see how determined Paul is to get this message spread, as he often reiterates it when introducing “Here Today” in concerts — a song written in part out of his need to clearly say “I love you” to John — a frequent presence in his live performances for the last 20 year.

Paul McCartney’s One on One World Tour in Detroit, Michigan, at Little Caesars Arena on October 2, 2017.

Paul: One of the other things I say on our shows is that sometimes you want to say something really nice to someone, or pay them a compliment, or you feel a bit shy and a bit embarrassed, so you think, “Ah, I’ll say it tomorrow.” You put it off to another day. You know, you can put it off. And sometimes that’s too late; you’re too late. I wrote this next song after my dear friend John who passed away. Let’s hear it for John! And you know, when you’re kids, particularly — I mean, when we first started the Beatles we were in our early twenties, kind of thing — and you’re a bunch of guys, up in Liverpool at that time… There’s no way you’re gonna say to each other, “Hey, I love you, man.” It just didn’t happen, you know. You just didn’t say things. But you know, when [unintelligeable] we didn’t say it, so when John died, you know, I wanted to kind of say it somehow. So this next song is in the form of a conversation we didn’t get to have.

The fact that Paul has often connected the theme of not verbally expressing his feelings, and in particular of being too late to do it, to his relationship with John, is what led me use “This One”, in that post and in others, as an expression of that dynamic between them. 

In the post you quoted me on in specific, I say that perhaps the part that they “never did” was outright “tell” each other “that I do [love you]”, given that they have embraced — “take you in my arms” — and made intense eye contact — “look you in the eye.”

The song is basically a love song – did I ever say I love you? And if I didn’t it’s because I was waiting for a better moment… ‘There could never be a better moment than this one…

— Paul McCartney, in “Club Sandwich 52, Summer 1989″.

Paul goes on to repeat this sentiment of emotional frankness in the rest of the verse: “Did I ever open up my heart / Let you look inside?” A phrase that, in my opinion, so aptly encapsulates the issues Paul brought to the relationship, that I use it as a title for Paul-centered posts in the Don’t Let Me Down | Trust Issues series.

But to be honest, the thing that really convinced me that song was about him and John, was a moment in this session:

After singing the lines “Did I ever touch you on the cheek / Say that you were mine, thank you for the smile”, Paul mimics one of John’s characteristic smiles, as the wonderful @vairemelde illustrated in this post.

With all that said, it appears that all there is to do is to appreciate this wonderful piece of music.

Did I ever take you in my arms, / Look you in the eye, tell you that I do, / Did I ever open up my heart / Let you look inside?

If I never did it, I was only waiting / For a better moment that didn’t come. / There never could be a better moment / Than this one, this one.

The swan is gliding above the ocean, / A god is riding upon his back, / How calm the water and bright the rainbow / Fade this one to black.

Did I ever touch you on the cheek / Say that you were mine, thank you for the smile, / Did I ever knock upon your door / And try to get inside?

If I never did it, I was only waiting / For a better moment that didn’t come. / There never could be a better moment / Than this one, this one.

The swan is gliding above the ocean, / A god is riding upon his back, / How calm the water and bright the rainbow / Fade this one to black.

What opportunities did we allow to flow by / Feeling like the time it wasn’t quite right? / What kind of magic might have worked if we had stayed calm, / Couldn’t I have given you a better life?

Did you ever take me in your arms / Look me in the eye tell me that you do? / Did I ever open up my heart, / Let you look inside?

If I never did it, I was only waiting / For a better moment that didn’t come. / There never could be a better moment / Than this one, this one.

The swan is gliding above the ocean, / A god is riding upon his back, / How calm the water and bright the rainbow / Fade this one to black.

-

Tangents

I’m Scared To Say I Love You

What About The Night We Cried

Did I Ever Take You In My Arms 

The Surrealist

[rivet-ing-titanic]

April 27th, 1912 - American Inquiry Day 9

Day 9: On Saturday morning, the committee jumped right into questioning witnesses. Included would be the captain of the SS Mount Temple (location shown above).

Witnesses:

Charles Lightoller, Second Officer, RMS Titanic (recalled again after Moore);

James H. Moore, Captain, SS Mount Temple;

Philip Franklin, Vice President, International Mercantile  Marine  Co.;

Andrew Cunningham, Bedroom Steward, RMS Titanic;

Frederick D. Ray, Saloon Steward, RMS Titanic;

Henry S. Etches, Bedroom Steward, RMS Titanic;

William Burke, Dining Room Steward, RMS Titanic;

Alfred Crawford, Bedroom Steward, RMS Titanic; (recalled, and again after Bright)

Arthur J. Bright, Quartermaster, RMS Titanic;

Notable Quotes/Lines of Questioning or Summarized Testimony:

As he had in the past few days, Senator Smith inquires into the whereabouts of a one Luis Klein. Lightoller claims to only know a Klein (he did not recall his first name) who was the second class barber, who perished with the ship. It seems that ‘a man here in my [Senator Smith’s] office this week who claimed to be Lewis [sic] Klein, a surviving member of the crew of the Titanic,’ might be believed to be an imposter, or possibly the stowaway in one of the lifeboats that other survivors had mentioned. Lightoller personally saw this man who claimed he was Klein and testified that he had never seen the man before.

The wireless operator on board the SS Mount Temple intercepted the C.Q.D. message from the Titanic, and took the information at once to Captain Moore. Moore hurried into action, using the location given, estimated they were approximately 49 miles from her location at 12:30, and started towards her location.

“Before that I want to say that I met a schooner or some small craft, and I had to get out of the way of that vessel, and the light of that vessel seemed to go out… I should say this light could not have been more than a mile or a mile and a half away... and after I got the light on the starboard bow then the light seemed to suddenly go out.,, I heard the foghorn on this schooner. He blew his foghorn, and we immediately put the helm hard astarboard, and I ordered full speed astern and took the way off the boat.  I should say the schooner, from the position of the Titanic, would be, perhaps, 12 1/2 to 13 miles.” – Moore

“I saw nothing; but I saw this tramp steamer, sir… Nothing whatsoever sir, in the way of wreckage… Of course, I reckoned I was somewhere near, if not at, the Titanic's position that he gave me, which afterwards proved correct, when I got observations in the morning, sir. “ – Moore

“We had the gangway ready for lowering, and we had ladders ready to put over the side; we had ropes with riggings in the ends to lower over; we had lifeboats and lifebelts and everybody was on hand and everything was all made ready along the deck.” –Moore

“I don't know, sir. I think it was just about the time he was turning in. He just picked up the instrument just to see if there was anything coming along. It was just purely and simply an accident that he got the ship's message.” – Moore

Moore reads out to the subcommittee all of the notes his wireless operator took once overhearing the C.Q.D from the Titanic. It is confusing, yet interesting side of things, as there show to be different communications between the ill-fated ship and the Frankfurt, to whom Titanic’s operator had called theirs a fool and told to keep out. It is unclear right now as far as I can tell what will become of this new information.

Then Senator Smith inquires about Moore’s opinion on the possibility “to have as part of the equipment of a vessel a permanent buoy made, as far as it could be so made, of indestructible material, fastened to an indestructible chain or wire, so that in the event of a ship sinking at sea that buoy might register on the surface of the water its exact burial spot.” (Smith) Moore agrees, that under certain circumstances that could be a useful tool in locating the wreck, however there are quite a few particulars that would have to be considered. I found this exchange interesting though.

This questioning of Moore allows for a lot more boats to be brought in the mix as far as ice warnings and who communicated etc. Moore also gives his theory on what happened when Titanic “touched one of those large spurs from an iceberg.”

According to the bedroom steward Cunningham, there was not a distress alarm on Titanic it was the duty of the steward assigned to each passenger to go and notify them personally.

“I waited on the ship until all the boats had gone and then I took to the water… I went in the water about 2 o'clock, I should say… I swam clear of the ship, I should say about three-quarters of a mile. I was afraid of the suction… I had a mate with me. We both left the ship together… We saw the ship go down then. Then we struck out to look for a boat.” – Cunningham. He called out to a lifeboat he heard nearby, and then swam towards it. That would be boat no. 4. His mate that was with him died just after he was pulled in.

Ray describes in detail the lowering of the boat he went away in no. 13 boat, and the conditions that almost swamped their boat, as well as the boat that was going to be lowered onto them if they didn’t cut away quick enough. Read this story.

”Yes. I wanted to stand by the ship, but, of course, my voice was not much against the others. We had six oars in the boat, and several times I refused to row, but eventually gave in and pulled with the others.” – Ray

“He was working all the time, sir. He was making notes of improvements; any improvements that could be made... I never saw him anywhere else, but during the day I met him in all parts, with workmen, going about. I mentioned several things to him, and he was with workmen having them attended to. The whole of the day he was working from one part of the ship to the other.” – Etches on Thomas Andrews (whom he was a steward for)

Everything Etches (or anyone for that matter) says about Thomas Andrews would be a notable quote to me, as Thomas Andrews is far and away my favorite person associated with Titanic. For sake of space and interest, I will not put everything here. If you too appreciate Andrews, you can read more about his actions that night as told by Evans, please visit this link. 

“I then found No. 78 cabin door shut, and I banged with both hands on the door loudly, and a voice answered, ‘What is it’? Then a lady's voice said, ‘Tell me what the trouble is.’ I said, ‘It is necessary that you should open the door, and I will explain everything, but please put the lifebelts on or bring them in the corridor.’ They said, ‘I want to know what is the matter.’ I said, ‘Kindly open the door,’ and I still kept banging. I passed along, and I found one cabin was empty, and then I came to another cabin and a lady and a gentleman stood at the door. They were swinging a lifebelt in their hands.” – Etches

“I saw, when the ship rose - her stern rose - a thick mass of people on the after-end. I could not discern the faces, of course… She seemed to raise once as though she was going to take a violent dive, but sort of checked, as though she had scooped the water up and had leveled herself. She then seemed to settle very, very quiet, until the last, when she rose up, and she seemed to stand 20 seconds, stern in that position (indicating), and then she went down with an awful grating, like a small boat running off a shingley beach.” – Etches

“We waited a few minutes after she had gone down. There was no inrush of water, or anything. Mr. Pitman then said to pull back to the scene of the wreck. The ladies started calling out. Two ladies sitting in front where I was pulling, said, ‘Appeal to the officer not to go back. Why should we lose all of our lives in a useless attempt to save those from the ship?’ "- Etches

“Yes, Sir; we saw a light that there was quite an argument over. Some said it was a star; others said it was a ship. But we pulled toward it, and we did not seem to approach it an inch nearer. It had every appearance of a masthead light of a ship, but rather a faint light.” – Etches

“I might say that about the last woman that was about to be passed in slipped, and was about to fall between the ship and the boat when I caught her. I just saved her from falling. Her head passed toward the next deck below. A passenger caught her by the shoulders and forced me to leave go. It was my intention to pull her back in the boat. He would not let go of the woman, but pulled her right on the ship.” – Burke (This is a different woman than another who caught her heel, fell to A deck, but came back up to the boat deck and got in successfully.)

“ Mrs. Isidor Straus and her husband were there, and she made an attempt to get into the boat first. She had placed her maid in the boat previous to that. She handed her maid a rug, and she stepped back and clung to her husband and said ‘We have been together all these years. Where you go I go.’ After that Capt. Smith came to the boat and asked how many men were in the boat. There were two sailors. He told me to get into the boat … and to pull for a light. He directed me to a light over there. We were pulling for about six hours, I should say, and there were four men in the boat and a lady [Countess of Rothes] at the tiller all night.” – Crawford

“They were stationary masthead lights, one on the fore and one on the main. Everybody saw them - all the ladies in the boat. They asked if we were drawing nearer to the steamer, but we could not seem to make any headway, and when day broke we saw another steamer coming up which proved to be the Carpathia; and then we turned around and came back. We were the farthest boat away.” – Crawford (He continues for quite some time describing the light and what they did.)

“She broke in two. All at once she seemed to go up on end, you know, and come down about half way, and then the afterpart righted, itself again and the forepart had disappeared. A few seconds the after part did the same thing and went down. I could distinctly see the propellers - everything - out of the water.” – Bright

“There were lots that were asked to get into the boat and they said they would rather stay on board the ship; lots of women said that.” – Bright

SEE American Inquiry Day 8 post here.

[kaleidoscopic-writing]

In the Shadow of Your Heart

PROLOGUE

a/n: Let me know your thoughts! I know I said Saturday but my weekend ended up being a bit crazier than expected!!

“Nina, if you don’t hurry up, I am leaving without you,” Charlotte yelled down the narrow hallway. 

Charlotte had approximately one minute to leave the apartment to make the 7:42 four train, which would place her at Wall Street exactly fourteen minutes later. This gives Charlotte three minutes to get to her building and ride the elevator up to the 67th floor, leaving her a minute to collect herself before her day starts. This is a sacred ritual that Charlotte had developed three weeks since she started at S&FP. 

Then, at exactly eight o’clock, Charlotte would ask Alice, her boss, and whoever Alice was having morning meetings with what they would like to drink or for breakfast. Alice was very particular and followed a meticulous routine, so in the mere two weeks that Charlotte had been working for Alice, she already knew her morning order like the back of her hand. 

Presently though, Charlotte had about 30 seconds to get out of her building, and her whimsical roommate was still no where in sight. Nina usually did not have to leave until an hour usually after Charlotte did, so when Nina said last night that she had to be up earlier for a doctor’s appointment and that they could take the train down together, Charlotte was already skeptical that Nina would be timely.

“Hey ninny,” Charlotte called out the mocking name, a nickname she had called Nina since they first became friends a few years ago. “I am leaving now. I’m serious. I’ll see you tonight at Alberto’s, okay?”

Without waiting for a confirmation, Charlotte sprinted out the door. Walking down three floors and out the door, Charlotte was ready to take on the day. With her (cheap) coffee in hand that she made herself, Charlotte strutted down her street towards the subway entrance. The city was slowly starting to wake. Dogs and owners pass by Charlotte as they take their morning walk, kids walk out of their buildings going on their way to school, and mostly, everyone starts on their  way to work, just like Charlotte. So, on the subway, Charlotte stood to one side of the subway car. Rubbing shoulders with people on all sides of her, her small hand holds onto the subway as she waits four stops until she can get off.

Without deviation, Charlotte’s subway ride comes to a stop fourteen minutes later. Getting off the subway, she noted the warming weather from nice spring weather to rising summer heat as she made her way to the building. Everything else was just as any other day. A sea of suits brush past her at every turn.

And of course, Charlotte wasn’t surprised when Alice gave her an order of four coffees from the Farm Irving down the road.

With a tray of coffees in her right hand and Alice’s coffee in her left, Charlotte’s tray began to shake. With twenty more floors to climb in the elevator, her arm was burning so bad, but she should have been used to it by now. Charlotte gets coffee for her boss and her morning meetings every day. Alice gets the same thing everyday: a large iced coffee with soy milk and sugar. The variable was just whomever she was meeting with that morning. Today must be a bigger meeting because she had four coffees in her other hand, whereas, it usually has only been one or two. Judging from the coffee, Charlotte guessed that this was a bigger meeting.

When Charlotte got out of the elevator, the clock above the receptionists desk said that it was 8:26 which means Alice’s meeting started in four minutes and most likely was already getting started in the conference room down the hall. That stupid long line at the coffee shop made her take a feel minutes longer getting the coffee. It’s okay, though, because she was almost done with her daily morning task, and once she dropped the coffee off in the meeting, she got to retreat to her own office, which was more like a cubicle in the back corner of the office that it felt  a office since it was a bit secluded. There, Charlotte got to relax in her chair and just go over spreadsheet, while sipping on her coffee she brings from home everyday.

Taking a few deep breaths to try and distract her from the burn in her arm holding up the coffee tray, Charlotte makes a note that she should probably go to the gym because her arm should not be this week. 

Turning the corner, Charlotte took in the people in the room. Alice sat on one side of the oval table, her back to the windows that look down Broadway. Alice usually sat at the head of the table, however, so Charlotte knew this was a different kind of meeting than she had seen before. Next to Alice sat a man in his 60s, Charlotte guess. His white hair on his head had disappeared in a ring on the top of his head, and his tanned skin looked wrinkled with years of tasking work, most likely. Across from them sat two women — Charlotte was inspired by the female presence in the room. Both women looked middle age and held a beautiful aurora of successful business women. 

“Ah, Charlotte, always perfect in getting the coffees in time!” Alice said kindly, extending out her hand as Charlotte stepped forward with her coffee. Noticing Charlotte hesitation in handing out the coffees to the people whom she did not know. “Oh, excuse me, Charlotte this is Alexander Smith, executive VP of mortgage equities acquisitions. Alexander, this is my newest intern, Charlotte King, and he ordered the small black coffee.”

Charlotte extended her empty hand out to Alexander, shaking his hand, as he gave her a courteous smile. “It is so nice to meet you, Mr. Smith.” Then handing him the coffee, Charlotte turned her attention to the two women on the other side of the table. 

“This is Harriet Wilson, one of the longest working employees here and COO of S&FP. She ordered the large iced caramel latte.” Again, Charlotte shook hands with the nice woman, and handed her her coffee. “And, this Elizabeth Woodside. Elizabeth is the executive secretary to Harry, and the small coffee with cream and sugar is hers!”  Elizabeth shook her hand and took her coffee, but Charlotte was still confused why there was still one coffee left in her hand, and who Harry was. “You can just place the last coffee right on the table. Harry will walk in this door right at 9:30.”

Charlotte placing the large black coffee on the head of the table in front of her. Moving the tray behind her back, Charlotte was about to say a kind goodbye when Ms. Wilson spoke. “Where do you come from Charlotte? Are you getting your masters?”

“Yes, I am getting my masters,” Charlotte spoke with a smile, feeling all eyes on her. “I just finished my first semester at Columbia,, but originally I’m from a small town upstate.”

“Very impressive, Ms. King,” Ms. Wilson spoke. Her smile was kind and welcoming, which was not something she has come across often in her first few weeks here. Sometimes it felt like she had the words intern plastered on her forehead, and all the employees she walked past each day knew it. But, Charlotte also knew she was being irrational; everyone is just busy with their own work. This isn’t social hour, and Charlotte was here to work too. Charlotte, then, resorted her days to working in her office, playing music in her headphones, because she was afraid she would bother someone with her music if the possibly heard it. It was a little hole but Charlotte enjoyed it.

“Thank you, Ms. Wilson.” Charlotte beamed. 

“Please, call me Harriet. I know every woman says the same thing about this, but Mrs. Wilson is my mother-in-law.” Everyone laughed at Harriet’s comment. “Do you know Margaret Prince at Columbia? I believe she is the dean of the economics program.”

“I do, yes. I worked with her last year, as a part of her program that was looking into and evaluating the program’s strengths and weaknesses. Since then, we have actually kept up a bit of a correspondence.”

My answer brought about a big smile from Harriet. “Dean Prince is one of my very close friends. We have worked very closely over the years for placement for her students, when I was under different positions for this company. That responsibility isn’t mine anymore, but Prince and I remained very good friends. She is a great woman to know, and I would recommend keeping up a relationship with her.”

Charlotte nodded, taking in the advice. “Thank you so much, Harriet. I will definitely keep that in mind.”

“What part of upstate are you from?” Alexander questioned.

“Saratoga. Really more so, I am from a town about a half an hour from there, but it falls under the umbrella of Saratoga, so all my schooling was through Saratoga.”

“I love Saratoga. It is such a beautiful town.”

Charlotte loved her small town, and in the past few years she has been in the city, few have ever been to Saratoga when she had mentioned it. Hearing that Alexander understood the beauty of Saratoga made Charlotte proud. “It is so beautiful. I miss it everyday.”

“The race track is so historic. My family used to go up for a weekend of the races.”

“Yes, it’s so —“

“Good morning everyone,” a voice spoke behind Charlotte.

Immediately, Charlotte stepped aside further to the side of the room, making way for the voice that seemed commanding with so few words. When she turned, Charlotte wasn’t expecting anyone in particular, since that voice was unfamiliar to her — deep with a slow foreign draw. However, she most certainly not expecting Harold Styles to enter. She had seen his pictures around the office, and even the internet. This was his family business, and he was definitely an integral part in it. Right now, he held the title of President of derivatives and equities, one of a few members under his father’s immediate team. Though it would have to be approved by the board, it is long assumed that he will one day take over his father’s job. Alice held a high title within the company as executive VP of derivatives and futures, so Harold was one of the few she reported to, but Charlotte thought that Harold was more of her bosses boss, than hers.

Moving to the side though, Charlotte took in his appearances in person. His hair was a bit longer than the short cut that she had seen in pictures before, maybe it had been a while since he had gotten his haircut. It was still short, but now, it was long enough to show curls atop his head. His face was clean shaven; with a prominent jawline on display. His expression seemed neutral enough, not angry but definitely not happy. Maybe a bit of annoyance, Charlotte really couldn’t tell.

For Harold, his eyes took in the room in front of him, eyes immediately drawn to the person in the room who he did not know. She was tall and slim, but not too skinny. He noticed her hair, curly with bangs that framed her face nicely. She stood to the side of the room, moving out of his way when she heard his voice. She seemed startled at his entrance, which kind of annoyed him. This was a meeting, and everyone know he was coming in at 8:30. She was still standing there, when they made eye contact. A small hesitant smile spread on her lips, but Harry did not reciprocate.

He moved his gaze away from Charlotte to the his employees, but Charlotte let out no sigh of relief. She was embarrassed. Why did she smile at him? Well actually that seemed like the normal thing to do. Why didn’t he smile back? 

She didn’t know if she should go or not. She was in conversation with the other people in the room before Harry came in, but she had a feeling that it was back to business when he entered the room.

“Good morning, Harry, and thank you so much, Charlotte, we are good from here.” Alice spoke, her words friendly to her superior and kind enough to Charlotte to inform her that she should leave. With a small nod and smile to those at the table, Charlotte turned around. Not before catching Harold’s eye one last time, his stern eyes on her. She darted her eyes away immediately not willing to

Walking out of the room, Charlotte thought more about whom she just met. Well, she didn’t even really meet him. ‘Harry’ was intimidating but also fascinating. His work ethic from what she has read is amazing. His education at Harvard and continual rise through the company was inspiring, but Charlotte didn’t know if she could handle the pressure of it all. He just seemed to breathe success and Charlotte got out of breathe climbing three flights of stairs to her apartment. Charlotte realized she had been in thought about it all the way back and about five minutes into her sitting in her office space, so she pushed the sighting out of his head. Meanwhile, back in the conference room, Harry listened as Alexander read off some spreadsheets on the latest quarter’s reports. His mind wandered back to the girl from the beginning of the meeting, “Charlotte,” as Alice called her. As soon as she left the room, Alice apologized admitting she was her new intern and was a little too friendly. 

“She’s too nice, too young,” Alice said with a sigh. “Follows orders well, but I don’t know if she has the backbone for this field.”

“Give her a chance, Alice,” Harriet said. “She hasn’t had to face any challenges yet.”

“Exactly,” Alice replied. “She hasn’t.”

“If she can’t handle pressure, she can’t handle this job.” Harry interjected curtly. “Now, can we begin. I have brunch with a potential client at ten o’clock?”

Everyone replied with a nod, as Alexander began.

Now, sitting here fifteen minutes later, Harry thought of the intern. She was nice, but Harry didn’t have time for nice. Her presence earlier was unnecessary, as is her job as intern probably. Sitting somewhere reading reports Alice gave her, probably thinking she is doing important work. The thought almost made Harry laugh. Almost. If she is as Alice believes, though, she probably won’t be around much longer, Harry thought. The weak ones always quit or are fired. 

[original-twin-blog]

Episode 4 - The Reluctant Birth Story

The perfectionist in me really can’t help but  approach these ramblings chronologically, which leads me once again, to a topic I don’t really enjoy talking about.  I can’t discuss pregnancy in my last episode without detailing the ‘birth story’ next.  

I used to revel in the retelling of the twins’ arrival.  I would go into great detail about the awkward intricacies of each examination and each stage of labour.  Now I can barely recall the name of the hospital without my scarlet cheeks swelling with the memories.  On reflection, I can only assume my ongoing conversations with two unresponsive newborns wasn’t quite stimulating enough and so I bored the pants off anyone who would listen. Or, the zeal with which I threw myself into the retelling was some kind of survival strategy.  Telling the tale somehow made sense of things.  It validated that what happened, actually happened.  I was naked, walking around a room moaning.  I did tell the midwife that we should exchange numbers because we were best friends for life.  Things happened that will only happen in that environment and circumstance;  I had to confirm it did, in fact, happen to me.  I digress, the point is it is not without a few toe curls that I share with you the details of Original Twin-babies’ arrival.  

60% of twin births are carried out via cesarean section.  There are a number of factors which make a section more likely; a low lying or shared placenta can cause problems during delivery.   A quick delivery might be important due to one baby getting most of the nutrients and so the other baby’s growth is slowed or, twin-mums can request a section if they wish for it.  The most common reason is that one of the babies is transverse (lying horizontal across bump) or breech (bum/legs pointing down).  When twins are born, everything takes twice as long for baby#2 (this is what the professionals call the baby that's furthest away from the exit, I irrationally felt bad for our  #2 as it really felt like she was being labelled second best from the start).  So if there are any complications the situation can turn very dangerous very quickly.

Our opinions in all of our consultations was that we would just sheep-follow the advice of the hospital staff shepherds. Their years of experience definitely outweighed our total lack of knowledge on the subject.  I’m pretty active, so I prefered to avoid the recovery of a section but as long as we had two healthy babies, we really didn’t care.  In our last scan before their arrival, the twins were head down and in a good position.  We planned therefore for a vaginal birth and that’s what we got.  

Note the really ugly use of the word ‘vaginal’.  There’s a reason for this. The alternative is to use the phrase ‘natural birth’.  Many women believe this implies that a section is in someway unnatural - a belief I can totally understand.  My experience (and there will be some that disagree) was that having babies torn out of my body didn’t feel very ‘natural’. I’m not sure a section would have been much different.

As it turned out, actually going in to labour was a bit of an anticlimax.  Being so uncomfortable towards the end of my pregnancy; I was in early labour for a day or two without knowing it. I’d been very uncomfortable; the aches and pains had worsened. I scowled at anyone who could get out of a chair unaided.  I just thought the haulage had taken its toll - my body preparing for the ordeal it was to undergo in 6 weeks time. In fact my waters had ‘ruptured’ (there’s something so gross about the pronoun use here.  I feel like an ardent feminist declaring ownership of ‘my’ amniotic fluid - eugh). A quick call to Triage and a journey to Hospital told us that I’d stay the night on the ward for observation, scheduled to return home the following day.  The aim was to keep Original Twin-twin babies in for another couple of weeks.  So, I settled down to an evening of piling my swollen elephant-legs into compression socks and re-positioning my bed approximately every 30 seconds.  At around 01.00,  I heard a massive pop, had a gargantuan wee all over the floor and then experienced the most powerful, consuming, much-worse-than-I-had-ever-imagined contractions. Breathtaking, scary, overwhelming labour officially arrived.  My trembling mass was escorted to the delivery ward, leaving a trail of leaking fluid behind me.  The midwife started to ask “Have you thought about what type of pain relief”... “epidural” was my definitive response.  I have never been so certain of anything in my life.  

Although I successfully forgot some of the early trauma of labour, I will never ever forget the part played by my doting Husband, Original Twin-Dad. Let me set the scene.  He had left me in the ward for home; he had work the next day and we both expected my hospital stay to be brief.  No doubt he enjoyed some mindless television to ease his lonely evening away from the bloated, whinging thing which had recently replaced his wife.   He went to bed early; it had been a long day.  

Switch to original twin, waiting for epidural - unable to stop apologising and exclaiming “I’m one of those women!”  “I can’t do it!”. There was also some mooing and swearing at this point.  I tried to call my husband.  Straight away in fact I was repeat dialling his number. I tried countless times with no reply.

He was asleep.

I was under siege and the Husband was AWOL.  The hospital took over the responsibility of establishing contact. Facial expressions completely wild now, a midwife trying to dress me in my fancy ‘boyfriend shirt’ brought along so I looked good whilst labouring (pah!).  We accepted defeat and I donned the backless gown.  A severe lady entered with the drugs and ordered me on the bed.  I hadn’t been able to bend down to put my shoes on for at least 3 weeks but this absolute chief of a woman got me sat with my head between my legs width ways on a narrow hospital bed.  What a boss.  

The epidural was delivered and chaos was replaced with calm, and yet there was still no break in the husband radio silence.  I’d relaxed and felt like a human being again so I had the foresight to alert a good friend and neighbour of mine.  She ended up knocking on my front door until original Twin-Dad chose to return from the land of nod.  So an hour after things kicked off and 89 missed calls later, my husband entered the delivery suite ready to provide deeply emotional and spiritual support to the now sedated, sleepy, really pissed off wife.  

Labour from then on was pretty boring. I could feel each contraction but I wasn’t in pain so I was drifting in and out of sleep for the whole time. I have two lasting images: my husband on his phone and the midwives making notes.  Nobody seemed very interested in me really.  Then it all kicked off.  Stage two of labour began - this is where you push.   Things were now very uncomfortable regardless of the pain relief. For an hour it went on until they decided I should push no longer and they would intervene. So off we all went to theatre for some forcep action.

Having twins in theatre is really hilarious.  You’re shimmied through quite quickly, signing forms as you go through.  Thank goodness Original Twin-Dad was there ( I had forgiven him his tardy arrival) I was emotional and confused and giving them permission to cut my body open.  When you get there, you realise there are lots of other people in the room. All focused on your lady-cabbage.  It’s absurd.  Paediatricians, Midwives, Anaesthetists, Assistant Anaesthetists, Trainee Midwives and a gaggle of other trainees just in for the experience.  At one point there was a loud beeping in the room which made us panic… turns out it was all of the pagers in the room going off simultaneously.

So quite quickly after arriving, baby #1 was freed. The baby that had grown inside me all of that time, was now a squidgy little snuglet in my arms, eyes open, tasting its first breaths of outside air.  The feeling at that point, for both of us was astonishment to the point of shut down.  If we were a drawing in a comic, there would simply be a massive exclamation mark over our heads.

Then we had to go again.  Whilst #1 was being checked out, #2 was on its way.  Hilariously, someone has to actually hold the baby in place from the outside, during the time between the two babies being born to stop it from changing position. I couldn’t help thinking there must be a more whizzy way of doing that.  That lady would have been glad of a job though; the rest of us just looked at one another, smiling occasionally, for 13 minutes - like a very messy fag break.  They asked me to let them know when there was a contraction and then #2 was ready to join her sister.  Two little girls, all cherub-like and covered in yuck.  

And that was that.  Two beautiful girls successfully birthed into the world and we were entirely responsible for their happiness, safety and well being for the rest of our lives.  Equal parts ecstasy and terror.  

More importantly though, my reluctant birth story is now told and I never have to use the word ‘Vaginal’ again.  Win.  

[lauracaskey]

My SNL ‘standby’ experience: 4/14/18

So this weekend I lived out a dream I’ve had for more than 15 years -- I waited in the SNL standby line for tickets.

Back in December, my friend Kristi and I decided we were going to try for SNL standby in the spring season. Since the schedule is not set in stone in advance, to help us choose the date I created a Google Docs spreadsheet (I’m obsessed) with a list of the most common Saturdays to have shows for the last 10 years. We settled on the second weekend of April since (see chart) there has been a show on that Saturday every year. We booked our flights/bus tickets, chose an Airbnb, took days off, and then waited.

About two weeks before we were set to go, NBC announced that John Mulaney would be hosting on April 14 and I literally screamed. (I was in a meeting at work and Kristi texted me, and I let out a small scream. In a meeting.) It felt like fate. 

I have been an SNL fan for a good portion of my life and have seen basically every episode since the 2003-2004 season. Along with that, I have always loved John Mulaney, beginning with his Update appearances, his work with Bill Hader ( ❤), and, of course, “New In Town” which has been one of my favorite standup specials for more than five years now. I missed his show in Charleston, SC, earlier this year and figured I would need to wait a few more years for him to go on tour before I’d get a chance to see him.

So, for us to have picked a random date and to have him host on that random date felt perfect (It also helped to heal the burn from the fact that Bill Hader hosted two episodes prior, and I missed planning my trip for that date.)

Being a hardcore SNL fan for the last 15 years, I knew what the standby process entailed. Long waits. Sleeping outside. The possibility that even after all of that waiting we still might not get in. I was prepared.

Kristi and I bought and borrowed all of the camping/backpacking gear necessary and easy to travel with (by plane for me from SC, and by bus for her from MD). We got into NYC on Thursday, and Thursday night I monitored Twitter and the SNL Reddit page for updates on the standby line. We decided to check the line at 9:30 a.m. on Friday and if it was more than 30 people, we’d go ahead and put our stuff down.

For those unfamiliar with the process, the SNL Standby line is on 48th St. between 6th and 5th avenues. It starts approximately beside the Nintendo Store and stretches down 48th toward Times Square, wrapping around Rockefeller Center towards the “Tonight Show” entrance. Depending on the host, people can start lining up as early as the Wednesday before shows. (In this case – since John Mulaney is a pretty big draw for SNL fans – the line began late Thursday night.)

The standby tickets are given in order beginning at 7 a.m. on Saturday. You get the choice of dress rehearsal (which is what we chose) or live show, and the NBC pages give you your number for both before you choose your tickets.

We got there a little before 9:30 a.m. and there were already 28 people waiting in front of us. We decided not to risk it, and set our space up and began the wait. (For anyone familiar with the area, we were directly across from Sean’s Bar. Let’s just say the sight of that giant Guinness became a familiar one over the next 22 hours.)

We couldn’t have asked for better weather to wait in. It was sunny all day and during the afternoon it reached about 75 degrees. We both had on t-shirts and leggings and didn’t have to put on jackets until about 2 a.m. It stayed warm and pleasant for most of the day.

The weather definitely affected the number of people in line. By that afternoon, the line reached the end of the block and had already begun its turn around the building. Later, we heard from the security guards that the line reached the 300 person max they allow and that they began turning people away from waiting at 4 a.m. on Saturday.

The location is also great for waiting. There are plenty of restaurants, you’re not too far from Times Square, and there are two nearby Starbucks where you can use the restroom and charge your phone. We likened it, on that day, to being at the beach. We had sleeping bags, chairs, and an inflatable camping couch, with the great name of Chilbo Baggins, that made the whole experience incredibly enjoyable and comfortable. (I can provide my entire supply list for anyone interested.)

We also had some pretty great line neighbors who we were able to talk to for most of the day. Growing up in rural South Carolina, it was surreal to be surrounded for the first time in my life by people who were just as obsessed with SNL as I am.

The one issue we ran into, and completely didn’t understand, was line sitters. There are several line sitting companies in NYC that allow people to pay them to wait for them in line. For a process that seems to be based on rewarding people with free tickets for taking their time out to wait, it seems incredibly unfair, and I’m not sure why NBC allows it. We had two line-sitters in front of us who were gone for five hours at a time, while the rest of us were basically informed we had to take short, infrequent breaks or we would lose our places in line. Multiple people spoke to the guards and pages about the situation, but they ignored our complaints. On top of never being there, they also held loud business meetings right beside us during the night, and at 4:00 in the morning one of the line sitters from further back came up to the two sitters in front of us blaring an alarm on her phone and yelling about people cutting in line.

It was also angering that we waited 22 hours for tickets, and the people who paid for people to “wait for them” (not really) were able to show up well-rested and perky at 5 a.m., and got in before us. (The couple in front of us even had the nerve to complain about how sore their legs were from waiting those last two hours.)

The worst part of the night is definitely that stretch from about 2 a.m. to 5 a.m. where it starts to get cold and you’re getting tired. Also after 10 million times, it gets really old to have people come by and ask “What are you guys waiting for?” and for them to have absolutely no idea who John Mulaney is. Thankfully, I had a little bit of foresight and made a sign before going that really helped us out.

A little after 7 a.m. on Saturday the pages came out to distribute tickets. When they got to us, we were numbers 10 and 11 for dress rehearsal and 20 and 21 for the live show. I know that usually close to 50-60 people get into both, but since I cared a lot about John Mulaney – and Kristi was super tired and staying up late another night almost seemed out of the picture – we chose dress since with such a low number we were pretty much guaranteed to get in and it’s a longer show.

After grabbing a quick breakfast at Chick-Fil-A (you can take the girl out of South Carolina…), we headed back to our Airbnb in Washington Heights and slept into the afternoon.

We ate an early dinner in the Village and got back to Rockefeller Center around 6:15 p.m. The ticket says ticket holders should report to the NBC Store to check in. I’ve heard they’re usually pretty strict about letting people line up early, but we were able to go ahead and get in our spots in line in the NBC Store when we arrived. They put you in line in groups of 10, so I was at the end of one line and Kristi was at the beginning of the other.

Around 7:15 they began bringing us all upstairs to the second floor and then to the elevators to the eighth floor. Because I was number 10, I was one of the last ones in the elevator, and therefore in the front of the elevator. When we hit the eighth floor, they quickly pulled us out of the elevator, filed us through the halls and then rushed us into the studio, meaning that I was in the first few people to be seated.

I was placed in the front row of the balcony almost in the EXACT center! Because it is a live, working set, there are no “perfect” seats with “perfect” views, but I feel like I got pretty dang close. I was able to see both the cold open and the monologue very clearly, along with a good portion of the sketches.

After going back and watching the live show, I noticed a ton of differences between the live version and dress version we saw.

In addition to the two “cut for time” sketches posted on YouTube, there was another sketch cut with John, Cecily, Kyle, Kate, Alex, and Mikey about 1920s novelists. John was trying to become a new member of the famous Stratford-on-Odeon group of writers and proceeds to insult everyone in the group. Kristi and I both noticed in that sketch (and in others), John was was saying completely different things than those that were written on the cards– kind of doing a reverse Stefon.

There was also a bit from Update cut with Alex as Conor McGregor.

John also had some extra jokes in his monologue and in the “Switcheroo” sketch.

As other accounts have noted, the biggest highlight of that night was the complete disaster that was the dress version of the “Lobster Diner” sketch. At the beginning, they had trouble getting Kenan’s tank through the door and the laughing from Pete, Chris, Kate, and Kenan was even worse. If you watch the YouTube version of the sketch, they actually took some cuts from dress and put it into that version. The part with Pete laughing is from dress, along with the ending number. The audience was dying.

I also really enjoyed the “Wedding Singer” sketch and would have probably chosen that over the “Horns” sketch. I can hear myself laughing in the video they posted on YouTube at the parts where John interjects.

I felt a little emotional throughout the show, just because SNL has always meant so much to me. Just to be there, in that studio. Hearing “Live from New York…it’s Saturday Night!” and the theme music start up while I’m sitting right there; it was overwhelming. When they wheeled the Update desk and background out I was just in shock. I also spent the commercial breaks just taking in the experience of being in Studio 8H. There were lights above me with the old 1960s/1970s NBC logo.  I was thinking of all the people I admire who have been in that studio–the original cast, my favorite cast members (like Dana Carvey, Bill Hader, and Jimmy Fallon), my favorite musicians (Paul McCartney, Paul Simon, George Harrison), my comedy heroes (Steve Martin, most of the members of Monty Python). It was crazy. And also to see Lorne Michaels in person, working down on the stage was just surreal.

At the end, they filed us all out back into the hallway where we were able to see the famous photos of former hosts and former sketches. Also, as I’ve heard others note before, the hallway (where I assume the writers are) smelled extremely strong of pot. Michael Che was also in the hall (possibly related? Haha).

We exited through the NBC Store, which was the only place still open in Rockefeller Centre at the time.

In all, this little adventure in NYC was the best trip I’ve ever taken in my life. I talked to some of the “old-timers” around me who have been doing this for years, and one told me that she could tell that I was going to do this again; that I had “caught the bug.” Which is absolutely true. I’ve definitely “caught the bug” and despite all the waiting, the stress, and the just overall exhaustion involved in the SNL standby process, I can see me doing this whole thing again very soon.

Another side note: I also attended Seth’s monologue rehearsal on Thursday, and he is the sweetest with the audience. That was so much fun, and because it was Thursday, SNL was in rehearsal and we got to see Pete Davidson and Kyle Mooney in the hallway. I was also standing beside the SNL stage, waiting to go into Late Night, and through the curtain I was able to see John, Luke, and Heidi rehearsing the “Horns” sketch.

[xmhs]

2. junshua

junshua + “it reminded me of you.”

There’s something oddly comforting about the absolute chaos of the morning rush.  Joshua remembers describing the rush as anything but comforting on the very first morning shift he ever got scheduled for, but after working for so many years at the small coffee shop, the absolute madness that occurs within the four walls of the shop between the approximate hours of 5:30 am to 8:30 am has become a familiar constant in his life.

Now when he looks up at the display screen hanging over the espresso machines and sees it full with seemingly endless list of orders, a weird sort of calm comes over him rather than the full blown panic that used to.  He moves behind the bar with practice, hands moving to grab shots of espresso or open up a new carton of milk almost without him telling them what to do.  Joshua’s been told he’s good at his job.  Not just because he can turn out three orders of skinny lattes in a stupid quick amount of time, but because no matter how many drinks he has going at one time or how much his feet ache or how much he wishes for even a ten second break in the line of customers to just breathe, no matter what, he always offers the customer a smile.

It always comes naturally to him, as he slides a finished drink across the pick-up counter, calling out the order for the name displayed on the screen to his left.  As the espresso machine hums as it starts up another round of shots, as the timer on the coffee beeps loudly in the background letting him now it’s expired and another batch needs to be prepped, as Chan yells something at him from the register about changing the dark chocolate mocha for a Jeonghan to a white chocolate mocha, Joshua offers a warm smile to the man who reaches for his drink on the counter.  “Have a good day,” he says, making sure to make eye contact with the man, who blinks and returns the smile hesitantly, before turning back around and diving back into the chaos.

It’s closer to 9 today when Joshua slides a peppermint mocha across the counter to a small, white-haired lady and turns around to see the display screen empty of new orders to complete.  He lets out a relieved sigh and picks up a nearby rag to start to clean up his mess of a bar space.

“Josh, I’m going to take these out back.”  He glances up at Chan as the boy finishes tying up a second overflowing bag of trash before picking both up, one in each hand.

“Okay, thanks,” he responds with a grateful smile and automatically moves away from the bar to cover the registers.  Chan is another reason why Joshua is able to get through morning rushes so breezily; the boy was incredibly proactive about taking care of things that Joshua never had to remind him like he sometimes had to with other employees he’s had to work with in the past.  Joshua runs a clean rag over the counter by the register as he waits for Chan to get back, straightening up when a customer approaches.

The man has a warm, familiar smile and Joshua racks his brain for a name to match his face.

“Hi,” the man says, his voice coming out softer than expected.  He’s holding a paper cup in his hands, popping the cap on and off.  He must have come in during the rush, then.  “A large dark roast, please.  You can just put it in this.”

“Sure,” Joshua says and since there’s no one in line behind him, he takes the cup from the man and turns away to fill it up right away.

“You know,” he says over his shoulder to the man.  “If you order an in-house mug next time, the refills for plain coffee are free.”

“Yeah, I know,” the man says, accepting the cup back from Joshua with a smile, before darting his eyes away almost sheepishly.  “Uh, I like to, um, draw on the cups, so…”

Joshua’s fingers pause over the register screen in front of him and he looks over at the cup in the man’s hands.  The sides were covered in black ink, swirling and looping designs covering over half of the cup’s surface.  He looks back up at the man’s face, his heart unexpectedly stuttering at the sheepish grin there.  He realizes a second too late that he’s been staring and quickly rips his eyes back to the screen in front of him, hoping the heat searing across his cheeks wasn’t too noticeable to the man.

“Can I get a name for the order?” he asks, looking up when the man doesn’t respond immediately.  He’s grinning now and Joshua’s heart misses a beat once more.

“Even though I’m standing right here?” the man asks teasingly and Joshua’s cheeks feel like they’re being set aflame.

“Ah, sorry, habit,” Joshua laughs past the sting of embarrassment in his chest.  It’s quickly soothed when the man laughs as well, a warm and childish sound that makes the corners of Joshua’s lips curl even more.  He hands Joshua his card to pay for the coffee, the tips of his fingers brushing against Joshua’s own.

“It’s Junhui, by the way,” the man says, taking his card back with a unfairly charming smile.  “Thank you for the coffee, Joshua.”

Junhui comes up three more times to get a refill on his coffee and each time Joshua tells Chan not to charge him for it, saying that the coffee is about to expire and is going to be dumped out anyway (even when it still has half an hour left until expiry) or because he keeps reusing the same cup over and over again and should therefore be repaid by saving the planet with complementary coffee.

Junhui laughs as he reluctantly puts his card back into his wallet once again, smiling over at the bar where Joshua was standing as Chan goes to fill up his cup once more.  Joshua couldn’t help but notice that the outside of the cup was now completely filled with the black ink of Junhui’s drawings and he wishes he were the one filling it up so that he could look closely at the designs.

“Are you always this generous to first-time customers?” Junhui says to him, causing Joshua to tear his eyes away from the cup in Chan’s hand to meet his eyes.

“Of course,” he says, smiling.  “Hopefully it brings them back a second time.”

And it does, as well as a third time, and then a fourth, and soon Joshua loses count the number of times the bell overhead the shops’s door chimes brightly and Joshua’s eyes stray over to the noise to see Junhui’s head of black hair and handsome smile already shining in his direction.  Junhui’s learned since the first day to avoid the rush, or at least come in near the tail end so that he has time to talk to Joshua as he gets his first cup of coffee, the paper cup he takes a hold of a blank canvas waiting to be marked.

“What’re you going to draw today?” Joshua asks, glancing over at Junhui as he wipes down the outside of an espresso machine.

“I don’t know yet,” he answers, his usual response over the weeks that Joshua had started to ask him, a glimmer in his eye and smile playing at his lips.  “Whatever captures my attention.”

Today is particularly slow for no reason.  It’s a nice day out, not raining or overbearingly hot, both weather extremes tending to draw crowds of people in for coffee, and only a half dozen customers litter the chair and stools placed inside the shop.  The rush itself hadn’t even been that bad, but seeing as Chan called in sick last night and the only replacement they had been able to get was a new kid named Vernon that Joshua hadn’t worked with before, it had been a bit of a struggle to get through the rush.

But now getting through it, Joshua finds himself bored.  The counters and machines have been wiped down twice already, he took out the trash earlier (since Vernon had made no move to), and he already did all the dishes that were to be done.  He glances over at Vernon, not surprised to find the other leaning up against the counter, staring down at his phone and tapping away at it so quickly that Joshua wonders how his brain can follow his fingers when they move like that.  After a moment, Joshua picks up a nearby rag and walks out of the bar area. Vernon doesn’t even lift his eyes from the tiny screen when Joshua tells him he’s going to wipe down the tables in front.

Junhui always sits a table in one of the corners of the shop, his back to the shop door, his bag occupying the wooden chair across from him.  He has laptop and mess of papers spread out across the table and for once it looks like he’s actually doing work, typing away at the laptop, sometimes stopping to glance down at a note-filled piece of paper on his right.  His cup of coffee sits on a stack of papers, black lines and swirls covering its surface.  Joshua picks up the cup as he nears Junhui’s table, not surprised to find it empty, and turns it in his hand to look at the drawings.

“Want a refill?” Joshua asks.  Junhui’s head snaps up to him, eyes darting between the cup in Joshua’s hand and Joshua himself.  A smile tugs at his lips and he straightens in his seat, shoulders dropping from where they had been hunched up by his ears.

“Always,” he says.  “Thanks.”

Joshua smiles back, but hesitates before moving away.  “Is this a lily?”

Junhui blinks at him, not understanding, until Joshua turns the cup towards him, showing him the elegant, swooping petals that covered almost a third of the cup already.  There was nothing else draw besides that, which Joshua thought was a little strange.  Usually Junhui drew a dozen different illustrations on each cup.

“It is,” Junhui says with a soft smile, seeming to brace himself before continuing.  “I got inspired.  It reminded me of you.”

He then drops his gaze back to his laptop, completely absorbed in whatever was displayed on the screen there.  Joshua stands there for a moment, stunned, staring down at the side of Junhui’s head.  The tips of his tan ears are a touch pinker than normal, Joshua thinks, before his feet move back towards the bar automatically.  Vernon’s eyes are still glued to his phone as Joshua reaches behind him to grab a pen from the counter he’s leaning on.  He looks up then, to see Joshua holding the cup in his left hand, tip of the pen in his right hovering over a blank surface of the cup.

“No way,” Vernon laughs as Joshua writes, trying his best to keep his hands from shaking too much.  “You’re really doing the whole ‘writing your number on his cup’ cliche?”

Joshua glances at him out of the corner of his eye.  “Yeah, why?”

Vernon just laughs again, shaking his head as he turns back to his phone.  Joshua frowns, turning back to his cup and at the black numbers staring up at him against the white cup.  They look out of place, harsh and strange placed right under a swooping curve of one of the lily’s petals.  Joshua’s stomach hits the floor.  “Is it really that bad?”

“Is what really that bad?” a voice asks behind him and Joshua turns so quick he almost drops the pen and cup.  Junhui blinks at him, a little startled by Joshua’s reaction.  His eyes drop to Joshua’s hands and he smiles.  “Did you draw something?”

Joshua stutters, heart racing into double time like the very first time he took six shots of espresso straight on a stupid dare.  “No, I-here, let me get you another cup.”

Before he can reach past Vernon for one, the boy plucks the cup from his hands and turns away to fill it with coffee.  Joshua watches with an impeding sense of humiliation as Vernon places it on the counter in front of Junhui, twisting the cup until Joshua’s number was facing him.  The three stand there for a moment, none of them saying anything, Junhui staring at the cup in front of him, pink flooding the skin of his cheeks and a smile threatening to split his face in two.  Just as he lifts his head towards Joshua, Vernon clears his throat loudly, causing both Junhui and Joshua to look to him.

“Not to ruin this moment or whatever,” he says with a not-so-genuine apologetic smile.  “But that’ll be $1.81 for the coffee, sir.”

[seathose2-blog]

The Linc - Eli Manning could be staying in the NFC East for “years” to come

Let’s get to the Philadelphia Eagles links ...

Pat Shurmur still thinks Eli Manning has years left as a quarterback - Big Blue View Shurmur was asked if, as he indicated when he was first hired, he believes Manning still has “years” of productive play left. His answer? “Yes, I do.” Finally, Shurmur was asked why he believes that. His answer? “Because I’ve seen him play good football, and I’ve seen how when we have a coordinated effort of protecting him, running the football effectively, and being able to run the ball throughout the game, it helps us. We threw the ball more than I would have liked to in the game that was really one score, but seven of those throws were two-minute before the half, and then there were 15 in the fourth quarter when we were down by 17. That skews the numbers. The important thing about yesterday in our coordinated effort was we didn’t get enough out of the runs when we chose to run the ball.” All of that certainly sounds like a coach willing to cast his lot with Manning again next season.

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10 thoughts on the Eagles’ huge win over the Rams - BGN The Eagles don’t have a quarterback controversy. Carson Wentz is still very much the Eagles’ franchise quarterback. He’s the long-term answer at the position. Go back and watch his 2017 tape if you need to remember why that’s the case. In the short-term, though, Foles should probably continue to start for the Eagles. If Wentz was healthy, he should be the one starting. The problem is he’s not healthy right now. Wentz’s back fracture requires three months to heal, according to Pederson. The Eagles should just rest him and roll with Foles.

At the Podium #15: A “Complete Team Game” - BGN Radio A new voice graces the At the Podium series with new starting quarterback Nick Foles in the rotation. He and Doug Pederson both talk about the Eagles playing a complete team game for 60 minutes in their upset of the Rams. In total 3 pressers included: Doug after the game, Foles after the game, and Pederson the next morning. FLY EAGLES FLY! Powered by SB Nation and Bleeding Green Nation.

Handing out 10 awards from the Eagles-Rams game - PhillyVoice Jim Schwartz has been out-coached a few times this season, but on Sunday night he had Sean McVay’s number. He dialed up blitzes at the perfect moments, and helped fluster and confuse Goff all game long. McVay, the (cough) 2017 NFL Coach of the Year, had some questionable moments. To begin, he messed up clock management late in the fourth quarter. And worse, he didn’t go for two with the Rams down eight after they scored a touchdown to draw within one score. Earlier in the season, Doug Pederson was in the same situation, and he explained the bulletproof logic in going for two in that scenario.

There is Hope - Iggles Blitz The Eagles have now won three out of their last four games. The only loss was at Dallas and we know that game could have been very different if the officials gave the Eagles the ball at the 16-yard line after the opening kickoff. That didn’t happen and the Eagles never could completely get their feet under them in that game. Injuries have significantly hurt this team and the Eagles aren’t going to play at the same level as last year. We can talk about Next Man Up and toughness and chemistry, but at a certain point you just don’t have enough talented players. Getting Avonte Maddox back made a real difference in the secondary. That gave the Eagles a competent CB. If the Eagles could get back Jordan Hicks, Tim Jernigan and Sidney Jones, the defense could take another step forward.

Explaining The QB Picture; Leftover Notes From Sunday - PE.com While Wentz remains the starting quarterback here – and there is no gray area at all in Pederson’s mind – the short term (meaning Sunday against Houston) belongs to Foles. The Texans are powerful up front defensively with J.J. Watt and Jadeveon Clowney on the edges, so Foles and the offense will see a whole new set of challenges against a 10-4 team. The long term belongs to Wentz – if the Eagles make the playoffs and Wentz is healthy, he likely starts, and he’s certainly the starter in 2019 and for many years after that.

Avonte Maddox: A Skeleton Key For Eagles Defense - The Draft Network What is Avonte Maddox in the healthy Philadelphia Eagle secondary? I’m not too sure, but I do know this: it’s not your average rookie, who can start at three different alignments (two of which he didn’t even dabble in in college) and provide quality reps from each position. Your average rookie corner doesn’t even hold his water against the Rams if he A) has been starting on the outside all season and B) was drafted in the early rounds! Maddox has been an absolute gem for Philadelphia — arguably the highest-impact draft pick they’ve had since Carson Wentz back in the 2016 class. He has more than earned a starting role somewhere next season — I’d imagine at nickel corner — but more than that, he has held this threadbare defense together long enough, well enough, and just strongly enough the Eagles playoff hopes are still alive.

The NFL’s biggest surprises, and who could copy them in 2019 - ESPN The Eagles have a 28.8 percent chance of making the postseason, and while they’re left with a pair of winnable games against Houston and Washington, I’m not sure that the formula we saw Sunday is something Philly could sustain into a long playoff run. They were able to hold a frustrated Sean McVay to 23 points on five red zone trips, as Jared Goff struggled to hit open receivers and made naive decisions with the ball. They won the turnover battle 3-1, which is going to be tough to do week after week with Nick Foles at quarterback. Pederson seemed to struggle to get the aggressiveness balance right yet again, but the Eagles managed to pull out the game when the Rams lost one possession on a fumbled punt and were stopped in the red zone on their subsequent try.

The Winners and Losers of NFL Week 15 - The Ringer “They’ve got Nick Foles” shouldn’t be a good thing. We saw him struggle in September. There are full years of evidence that Foles isn’t that good at playing quarterback, and just a few odd wins in December, January, and February to support the notion that Foles is an unstoppable clutch god. But it’s December. The mild-mannered backup quarterback just went into the phone booth, and he came out wearing a Super Bowl MVP’s clothes. It’s Nick Foles season.

How a Players-Only Meeting Sparked the Colts’ Recent Turnaround - MMQB While we’re there, a key number from that Eagles win: 30. That’s how many times Philly ran the ball, even with Josh Adams and Wendell Smallwood doing the heavy lifting, and it sure seemed to change the offense’s dynamic. I had a coach who’d played the Eagles a few weeks ago mention to me how hard the running back injuries seemed to be hitting them. What they needed, it seems, was more balance. Sunday night’s performance (31 passes, 30 rushes) went a long way to getting the efficient effort they did from Nick Foles.

Fletcher Cox battles through injury to ruin Jared Goff’s night - NBCSP “Nothing was going to stop me from finishing that game,” Cox said after the game like it was obvious. Nothing. Not only did Cox return to the game, on his first series back in the second quarter, but he also made a huge play. In a contest that featured some of the best pass rushers in the league, including the NFL’s sack leader on the other sideline, Cox in the second quarter picked up the only sack for either team on Sunday night.

Needy Camden families receive holiday baskets from Eagles player foundation - Courier Post A foundation headed by Philadelphia Eagles safety and Super Bowl champ Malcolm Jenkins gives away holiday food baskets and toys in several cities, but on Monday he expanded the program to Camden and with an unexpected personal visit. Fresh off the Eagles plane that landed Monday morning in Philadelphia following a 30-23 win over the Los Angeles Rams just before midnight Sunday, Jenkins arrived by 10 a.m. at the Antioch Baptist Church on Ferry Avenue in Centerville. There he helped wrap food and toy gifts for nearly 140 needy Camden families, working alongside approximately 100 volunteers from city churches, the local government and other organizations.

What kind of person wears a Kenjon Barner jersey? Stories behind the 10 oddest jersey choices at Eagles-Rams - The Athletic “I’m a Chargers fan. I was kind of butt-hurt when the whole thing went down with L.A. and them moving. My roommate at the time was an Eagle fan. He gave me the jersey. I got rid of all my (Chargers) shit. Before they won the Super Bowl, so I’m not a bandwagon jumper! And, it was a free jersey, that’s why I took it.” — Karl

A tradition unlike any other: The Cowboys falling apart down the stretch - Yahoo! Sports OK. How about this for a reality check: These Dallas Cowboys – despite digging themselves out of a hole and smoothing out some rough edges during a five-game winning streak – still look like the same, old franchise that finds a way to fall apart when everything is supposed to be coming together. You can call that a coaching problem. You can blame some talent holes. You can curse the decades of Jerry Jones failures. But whatever you do, don’t call this team anything different than so many others that have teased the fanbase and then collapsed when it mattered most. That’s the reality, and here is the check: Until Dallas proves it’s capable of something different than the decades of frustration we’ve come to know, assume this kind of loss. Where the only silver lining is reaching for a suggestion that getting beaten down on the road against a good (but not great) team is somehow precisely what the franchise needed.

Looks Like Someone Has a Sixpack of the Mondays - Hogs Haven Before we talk about that potential victory, let’s give Josh Johnson some love. The 32-year old (because apparently the Redskins aren’t allowed to have quarterbacks younger than 32) played well enough to help the team get a win. What he lacks in “established success” and “pedigree,” he makes up for with effort and passion. Because of the money wrapped up in Alex Smith, and because Colt McCoy is likely to be the projected starter in September 2019, the Redskins are in need of a cheap option to consider going into camp next summer. Someone was/is going to be able to play their way into at least those plans. If Josh Johnson manages to helm this Redskins team to an unexpected playoff appearance, he will have earned the right to come back next summer and compete for a spot. While I am not saying this is the case now, he could even give the team an excuse to not draft a quarterback early in the draft. Maybe...maaaaaaaaayyyyyyybe. The Jaguars defense has not been the top-ranked unit we have seen in recent seasons, but it still has a load of talent and Johnson deserves some love for keeping the offense in the game.

Should Los Angeles Rams fans be hitting the panic button? - Turf Show Times The Rams are 11-3 and I believe, despite what I’ve said up to this, that they have as good a shot as any other team to win the Super Bowl this year. This isn’t the same kind of frustration I’ve felt during the Jeff Fisher, Steve Spagnuolo, Jim Haslett or Scott Linehan eras. This isn’t the hopeless feeling of rooting for a team destined to finish 4-12. This is the fear of watching what is probably the most talented roster in the NFL get dropped in the divisional round. Swept away and forgotten by everyone but us Rams fans. And all we’d be left with is a series of “what-ifs.”

The Cowboys should fire offensive coordinator Scott Linehan while it still matters - SB Nation The Dallas Cowboys were shut out Sunday for the first time since 2003. The 23-0 loss to the Indianapolis Colts took the wind out of the sails of a team that entered Week 15 on a five-game winning streak and comfortably ahead in the NFC East. It’s not panic time, though. The Cowboys are still ahead of Washington and Philadelphia, and finish the year with winnable games against the 5-9 Buccaneers and 5-9 Giants. Winning just one of those games would be enough to lock up the division crown. But some urgency to fix a clear problem is warranted — especially if the Cowboys hope to win in January. It’s time for the Cowboys to fire Scott Linehan. Or rather, it’s long overdue.

...

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Source: https://www.bleedinggreennation.com/2018/12/18/18145955/eagles-news-eli-manning-could-staying-nfc-east-years-giants-philadelphia-quarterback-nfl-new-york

[leighhouseholder-blog1]

Become an Expert on Ryn Ryna by Watching These 5 Videos

If you are anything like me, you have regularly waited until your own body crashed and your mind blew several fuses before you actually curled up to offer yourself some serious break. I used to believe I needed to earn my rest, so I'd work before I was beyond fatigue. Afterward, feeling very expressive, I'd fall. Unfortunately, this collapse usually involved being sick. It took a life of this pattern and much protesting from my body for me to find it out. (And I still repeat it on occasion, despite being onto myself.) Light-bulb moment! Maybe my body would like to sleep more to find the best bed often! Maybe I could rest without needing an overall entire collapse!

My husband has regularly teased me being"extreme" I admit, it's quite correct. I move full force, then fullstop. I turn the burner on top, see the food is burning, then turn it overly low. I've adopted this about myself, and I have also practiced that strange item people telephone moderation, in hopes of learning how to doit. On occasion, it still eludes me. But with resting, I am needs to successfully employ smoking techniques.

I used to believe of napping as either sleeping or spending an whole day in a movie coma. Now, but I've got an entirely new definition of remainder. Rest is clearly what you do/don't accomplish which allows the body to drop out of the fight or flight response or manage an already present non-fight or collision status. This is my own definition, designed to simply help me rest each and every day.

With this definition, I remind myself of the significance of allowing my body to spend every day employing the parasympathetic portion of my nervous system - the part which allows healing, healing, and growth to occur. Like in everything, we want balance; some balance of those sympathetic and ventral parts of our nervous processes. If you were driving your vehicle in heavy traffic and didn't have the sympathetic nervous system readily available for you, your life is in extreme danger. The reverse of that can be correct. A lot of high-alert, sympathetic nervous system living makes it hopeless to heal and to feel refreshed.

There are so many tactics to rest whenever you use my own basic definition. Whatever that helps your entire body drop to equilibrium and digest manner counts, which means that the resting style might be very unique. Knitting, by way of example, might be restful for your requirements. To me personally, it creates aggravation. Crocheting, on the other hand, is something that I find helpless.

In my own break list is also hearing soothing music, breathing, and listening into all other types of music, reading enjoyable nonfiction, restorative yoga, gentle walking, petting my dog, drawing, and creating jewelry, listening to various guided imagery recordings, obtaining a massage, along with intentional resting.

I choose from my list daily. If I forget, I soon come to feel jittery and outside of sorts, also marginally disconnected from myself. Your rest list may look totally different from minebut I do encourage you to discover what helps you break. What better time for you to actively place rest in your life than right today? Life isn't about striving, achievingdoing, and attaining. It is about enjoying. Appreciating what? Anything you do, or what you may're not doing. That moment, right now, even though you should be sad, mad, scared, or joyful, can comprise the calmness of only being restfully here.

Drastically lowering your calories without exercising is unquestionably not just how move about becoming fitter, firmer, faster. In actuality, if lasting fat loss can be your final goal dieting without the perfect sort of exercise (more about which is in only a bit...) can make you reduce both fat and muscle. This isn't good. Low-calorie food diets slow down your resting metabolic rate and earn weight control much more difficult in the long run. Muscle is lean, so metabolically expensive tissue you can't afford to lose. Without sufficient muscle tissue you may truly have an extremely difficult time staying physically healthy.

Whenever you drop weight onto a low-carb diet, up to 30 percent of this weight you lose comes from calorie-burning muscle. In other words, in the event that you"successfully" shed 15 pounds on a lower calorie diet, as many as 4 1/2 of those pounds result from muscle. The more weight you lose to a low-calorie diet, the more damage you cause to your own metabolism. Weight reduction minus the ideal type of exercise can be just a lose-lose scenario.

Here is the bargain, should you lose 4 1/2 lbs of muscle since the result of dieting (or the slow method of aging) that you would want to eat about 180 calories every single day to maintain your weight reduction. If you lose 6 1/2 lbs of muscle you'd need to eat approximately 260 calories every single day to maintain your weight loss. On a very low calorie diet that your weight reduction has a tendency to finally plateau as your metabolic rate slows down, while at the same time that your sense of food and nutrient deprivation increases. Clearly this is a terrible combination.

Boost Your Fat While Losing Weight

Many people would agree that the very best case scenario would be to lose weight (fat) while simultaneously boosting your metabolism which means you may eat more-not less. Sounds good to me. A 1999 study in the Journal of the American College of Nutrition proves this ideal case scenario is obviously potential. If you observe a low-calorie diet program simultaneously enhance your muscles during resistance training exercise, then your metabolic rate can actually increase despite weight reduction. (1 ) ) The sole means to improve your fat burning capacity since you drop weight would be to develop your muscles through weight training exercises. Cardiovascular exercise (such as biking, jogging, swimming, and so on ) will not raise your resting metabolic process. Cardiovascular exercise is nice to add in addition to resistance training. . .but if you had to choose one over another (particularly https://en.search.wordpress.com/?src=organic&q=mattress if you're after a lower calorie diet!) Afterward your best option is always to choose resistance-training within aerobic training. In other words, hit the weights, maybe not the treadmill.

30-Minute Workout, 3 Times a Week

Here's where the news gets better. You never need to spend daily from the fitness center to get results (in actuality, that you don't even need a gym-you could possibly get results working out on your home, which in addition, is where individuals work out, with just a few sets of dumbbells.) When you have got thirty minutes to spare 3 times per week then that's all the time required to increase your resting metabolic rate. Don't misunderstand me, you'll want to exercise intensely and you will need to really push your self, however a short 30-minute interval training workout may definitely be effective.

Lift Weights

Your goal with resistance training would be to gain muscle and build stamina. A variety of exercises exist to"tone" your muscles (for example, yoga, pilates, and so on ) -and when you lose weight that you can surely add more variety to your workouts using a variety of unique types of exercise-but the most efficient means to build muscle and build muscle (and raise your metabolism) will be always to lift weights. You wish to select a fat enough to lift eight times throughout the exercise but heavy enough that you just can't lift it more than a dozen to fifteen days. This will have just a little bit of experimentation on your area to ascertain the right level of weight to grow, however it's not rocket science. When you've never lifted weights before you should seriously think about hiring a personal trainer to help you along with your shape (so that you can avoid injury it's important not to undermine your form as a way to lift heavier weights).

Basic Metabolism-Boosting Circuit Training Fitness Regimen

If you work out the subsequent 30-minute interval training workout 3 days a week over non-consecutive days (like Mon, Wed, Saturday) you increase your resting metabolic rate-assuming you lift heavy enough weights. By boosting your resting metabolism you will have a much easier time staying physically fit. There exists a few pointers you will want to bear in mind to maximize your results. To begin with, don't break between places. Proceed from one exercise to one other. By doing this you will also increase your heart rate and find some cardio benefit-plus you'll get the workout done faster. Additionally you will need to pull in (or"suck ") your abdominal muscles after doing each single exercises. This won't just help your form but it is going to simultaneously strengthen and tone your muscles. Make sure you lift the weights . A fantastic principle when weight lifting is to rely on 4 (count in your face"one. . .two. . .three. . .four") along the way up whenever you are raising the weight and count to 4 to down the way when you are lowering your weight. Absolutely don't use momentum and don't"swing" the weights. Think quality over quantity; it's better to lift a lighter weight with perfect form than it is to lift a heavyweight with terrible form. If you don't know what the below exercises are or you don't know how to correctly implement them then publish this workout and take it into some good gym in the country and also a certified trainer can explain to you how to accomplish the exercises using very good form. A good personal trainer can also change the exercises when you have injuries.

Note: I give the sum of burden my spouse and that I use for each exercise for a benchmark however you'll need to correct the weight depending on your personal strength and physical fitness degree. Women that have never potency trained will want to use less weightreduction. Focus on 5 pounds for workouts. Men ought to start with roughly 8 pounds.

3 second mild heat up (mild jog or brisk walk, jumping rope, elliptical trainer, walking up and down stairs, stationary bicycle, rebounding on a mini trampoline, and so on )

Squats: Ivy utilizes 1-5 Pounds & Andy utilizes 25 lbs / 1 2 - 15 reps

Pushups: Just do as many as you can with good form. Rest for 30 seconds. Duplicate

Shoulder Press: Ivy utilizes 15 pounds & Andy utilizes 25 pounds/ 10 repetitions

Squat Jumps: 10 reps. Rest for 30 seconds. Repeat

Single-arm Bent-Over Rows: Ivy uses 15 pounds & Andy uses 25 pounds/ 1-5 repetitions on left-arm then 15 repetitions on RIGHT arm. Repeat and do 12 repetitions with LEFT arm then 12 reps with RIGHT arm.

Kneeling Bent-Knee Glute Raise: Ivy & Andy both use ankle weights and 8 pounds behind a knee/ 20 repetitions LEFT leg subsequently 20 repetitions along with your ideal leg. Duplicate and perform 20 reps with LEFT leg along with 20 repetitions with leg.

Pec Fly: Ivy uses 10 pounds & Andy utilizes 15 pounds/ 15 repetitions

Deadlifts: Ivy utilizes 1-5 pounds & Andy utilizes 25 lbs / 20 repetitions

Pec Fly: Ivy uses 10 Pounds & Andy uses 15 lbs / 15 repetitions

Dead Lifts: Ivy utilizes 1-5 Pounds & Andy utilizes 25 pounds/ 20 reps

Back Extensions: 1-5 reps

Basic Crunches: 20-40 reps

Isometric"Bridge" Pose (or even Plank Pose on Forearms): Move for 30-60 minutes. Rush 30 minutes. Repeat

Oblique"Bridge" Pose: Eat 30-60 seconds on LEFT then perfect. Repeat

Chest Press: Ivy utilizes 15 Pounds & Andy uses 25 pounds/ 15 repetitions

Single-leg Lunge Press: Ivy uses 8 lbs & Andy uses 12 pounds/ 20 repetitions LEFT leg then 20 repetitions RIGHT leg. Repeat performing 1-2 repetitions LEFT leg then 12 reps RIGHT leg

Upright Rows: Ivy utilizes 1-2 Pounds & Andy uses 20 pounds/ 1-5 reps

Ball Squats (Hold at Bottom 3 counts): Ivy uses 8 pounds & Andy uses 1-2 pounds / 20 reps

Tricep Overhead Press: Ivy uses 20 pounds & Andy utilizes 30 lbs / 1-5 repetitions

"Hammer" Bicep Curls (palms face ): Ivy uses 10 pounds & Andy uses 1-5 lb / Balance to LEFT leg and also perform 8 10 reps. Focus on RIGHT leg and also do 8 -10 reps.

Plies: Ivy uses 10 Pounds & Andy uses 20 lbs / 1-5 -20 reps

[welllpthisishappening]

Out of the Frying Pan (1/?)

Emma Swan is only doing this for one reason, well, make that two. To get her show's numbers back up and, maybe, impress her son. She doesn't like admitting to that second one though.

Killian Jones is doing this for absolutely, positively, just one reason. To expand his restaurant. And maybe get Regina off his back. So that's kind of two reasons.

Neither one of them is doing a year-long Food Network all-star competition because they're celebrity chefs and there's not really any other choice. Of course not. And neither one of them is enjoying it because they maybe, kind of, sort of enjoy each other. That would be insane.

AN: Oh hai, we’re back at it. This has been lingering in my drafts forever because I wrote it while I was posting YPBLAG. It is also impossibly long, but this time with different perspectives! And cooking! It also totally messed up my sponsored ads on Facebook for weeks because I kept googling so much Food Network information. And an enormous thank you to @laurnorder who is the best. Straight up.  

Also living it up on Ao3 if that’s how you roll. 

“Mom!”

Emma groaned.

“Mom!"

The bed was shaking. Emma turned her head on the pillow, resisting the very real urge to push her face into the fabric underneath her, and cracked open one eye. The bed wasn’t shaking – it was being shaken.

She took a deep breath and bit back yet another groan, reaching up to push a piece of hair out of her eyes. “What time is it?”

“Time!”

“That’s not a number, kid.”

“Mom,” Henry sighed, drawing the three letters into one, incredibly long and vaguely impressive syllable. “It’s tiiime.”

He shook the bed again, pushing the edge mattress with his hand and Emma was momentarily surprised by the strength of her 12-year-old son. She shouldn’t be surprised by anything at this point, honestly. Henry was a whirlwind of, well, everything.

There weren’t enough adjectives in the entire world to describe everything Henry was to Emma.

He was the reason she got up – or would eventually get up – and the reason she was slated to stand under several dozen scalding hot lights that afternoon.

Emma Swan, celebrity chef wasn’t a phrase she’d ever particularly envisioned for herself, but, somehow, that was where they’d found themselves.

It was a far cry from the pregnant teenager who’d wound up in jail after taking the fall for her boyfriend’s crimes. Stolen watches. And Neal Cassidy was gone to Canada before Emma could even try to come up with some sort of alibi.

She’d found out she was pregnant two weeks into her eight-month prison stint.

And for awhile she’d considered giving him up. Henry deserved a chance and, at that point in her life, Emma was convinced she couldn’t give it to him.

But then they put him in her arms and her whole world had shifted on its axis and Emma promised herself she’d do anything to make sure this boy got everything she’d never had.

So, she’d get up and she’d stand under lights wearing approximately eighteen pounds of makeup and smile and teach the TV-watching public how to make the perfect chicken cacciatore.

No one made chicken cacciatore better than Emma did.

The mattress shook again – a very forceful reminder that she had a schedule to stick to – and Emma pulled herself up, brushing her fingers across Henry’s forehead and earning a very almost-teenager groan in the process.

“You need a haircut,” she muttered, pressing her fingers into her son’s hair. “I’m surprised I haven’t gotten a note from school telling me you’re breaking the dress code or something.”

“Mary Margaret would tell you first. And there may be a note in my backpack.”

“Henry!”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” he said quickly, taking a step back and, finally, letting go of the mattress. “You’re busy. I’ll get it cut at some point.”

“I am not too busy for notes from school,” she sighed, falling into mom-mode immediately. “You know the rules.”

“No secrets.”

“That’s right. We talk. We discuss. We figure out a day I’m not filming to take you to SuperCuts.”

“SuperCuts?”

He’d practically perfected the groan at this point and he sounded so much like David that Emma squeezed her eyes shut quickly, fighting off a wave of deja vu and emotion that simply didn’t belong at 7:30 in the morning.

“Mom?” Henry asked, not missing a single thing. “You ok?”

“Absolutely, kid,” she promised, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and nudging at his knee with her foot. “Come on. As you so thoughtfully pointed out, it’s time to get up. What do you want for breakfast?”

“Mary Margaret left bear claws in the kitchen last night.”

Emma’s shoulders dropped – she’d been at a signing the night before and Henry had been left in the care of her brother and sister-in-law. It was something that was beginning to happen far more than she liked.

But the line for autographs had been long and people seemed to care and want to know where she got her recipe for crème brûlée and she couldn’t turn people away when they’d spent most of their Thursday night waiting for a few minutes to talk to her.

Henry, of course, picked up on her internal dilemma immediately.

He was far more cognizant at 7:30 in the morning than she was – 12-year-olds, it seemed, did not require several cups of coffee to wake up.

“It’s ok, mom,” he said, sinking next to her on the bed. Emma’s arm wrapped around his shoulders instinctively and she hugged him close to her side like he wasn’t half grown up and they were still living in that shoebox apartment on 16th Street. “Was the line super long? Were there a ton of people?

“It’s only ok because Mary Margaret and David are the best. And yes. And yes to the second question too.”

“Then it’s definitely ok.”

“Any one tell you how awesome you are yet today?”

Henry looked up at her, smile plastered on his face. She asked him that every day – and every day his returning smile made Emma’s stomach flip with how much she loved this kid. “Not yet,” he said, repeating his line with ease. “But thanks for looking out.”

“Always.”

“You’re pretty awesome too,” he said softly, glancing back down at his hands in his lap. That wasn’t part of the scene.

Emma leaned over, kissing the top of his head and he squirmed underneath her. “Oh, stop,” she laughed, pulling him even closer to her until she was nearly falling over. “Consider it good luck for the great big, announcement we’re supposedly getting today.”

“It’s going to be good.”

“You’re awfully confident.”

“I believe in you, mom,” he said simply and Emma’s breath caught in her throat.

It was too early for this.

She also needed him to believe in her just a bit too because, despite the long line the night before, Emma knew her numbers were down. They’d been bumped up an hour earlier on Sunday morning and the once-a-week cooking show didn’t exactly fit in with the theme the network was running with anymore.

It wasn’t a reality show. It wasn’t a competition. It was straight cooking instruction, based entirely on Emma’s ability to appeal to the viewer.

And, for the last couple of years, it had worked.

It had been great – the line and the number of Facebook likes on her professional page were a testament to that. But a, now, nine o’clock timeslot on Sunday morning didn’t exactly draw in the crowds and while her producer, Ruby Lucas, had practically begged her to bring Henry on the show seemingly every other day, Emma had resolutely refused to allow her personal life to even start to seep onto the screen.

Emma Swan, celebrity chef was a completely different person than Emma Swan, teenage mom and former convict.

And she was going to keep it that way.

She’d play the role and she’d silently continue to dread whatever great, big announcement was waiting for her as soon as she made it uptown that morning.

“Save the bear claws for when you get home from school later,” Emma said, standing up and tugging on the collar of Henry’s t-shirt as she moved. He raised his eyes in question and Emma grinned at him. “What do you say to french toast this morning?”

His eyes lit up and he practically sprinted out of the bedroom, rushing towards the kitchen. “I’ll take that as a yes,” Emma laughed, pushing her feet into the pair of slippers next to her bed and walking out the door.

His alarm went off loudly, the sound seeping into his only-slightly conscious brain and Killian squeezed his eyes shut, desperate to spend at least a few more minutes in bed.

His head felt like it was going to snap in half.

God, what had they done last night?

Robin had come to the restaurant, going on about Regina and the show and the ridiculous schedule that was restocking the Iron Chef prep kitchen and Killian had played supportive friend for all of five minutes before grabbing a bottle of rum and pouring each of them a glass.

It was not the last glass either of them drank.

And now he was paying for it.

Badly.

He hoped Robin was too.

Fair’s only fair, after all.

Killian reached his right hand out, slamming his palm down on the alarm clock he absolutely refused to throw away. Robin and Eric made fun of him mercilessly for it. And he wouldn’t get rid of it.

He’d had the same alarm clock in every room he’d ever lived in from the time he was thirteen until that very morning. The stupid thing could snap in half and he’d probably bring it with him to the next apartment he’d live in.

Killian fell back on the pillow, fighting off the nostalgia and memories that were threatening on the edge of his memory. Liam had packed that alarm clock when they moved into the apartment on 87th Street – just a few weeks after their mom died.

They’d sold most of their stuff to pay the security deposit on the apartment - a whopping 350 square feet without an oven and a bathroom down the hallway – but Liam had insisted, for whatever reason, that the alarm clock had to come.

“How else will you know when to get up for school?” he asked, ruffling Killian’s hair as he kicked open the door to the brand-new apartment, smile plastered on his face in attempt to make everything seem normal.

He wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all Killian, but he appreciated the effort.

And he appreciated the alarm clock.

So it had come with him everywhere.

Killian grabbed his phone off the nightstand next to him, swiping his thumb across the screen to find eighteen e-mails waiting for him already. At 7:30 in the morning. Jesus Christ.

He briefly considered just going back to bed, but one e-mail stuck out at him. Regina Mills had sent him a message with the subject: FORGET THE RUM FOR TWO SECONDS AND READ THIS.

Killian felt the smile tugging on the corners of his lips immediately, momentarily forgetting the pounding ache just behind his eyes. He fought off the dizziness that came with sitting up and pressed his back against the headboard to keep his bearings as he read the message.

K,

If the reason Robin isn’t answering his phone is because you’re plying him with rum over his meltdown about the prep kitchen, I’m going to personally punch you right in the face when you walk into the studio tomorrow morning.

Where, by the way, you need to be.

I told you this last week, but you’re you and you hate coming into the studio and I know that between the several days since I mentioned this and the absolutely exorbitant amount of rum you and my fiancé have presumably consumed tonight, I felt like I needed to remind you.

This is big, Killian. Really big. And, no, I can’t just tell you over the phone or e-mail or a quick text message, so don’t bother asking me. We’re playing by the rules on this one.

So get to midtown by 9:30.

I know, I know, midtown is the worst place in the world and it smells like garbage and you simply can’t stand the tourists. I don’t care. Be here or, as promised, I will punch you in the face and then several other body parts as well.

And make sure you drink some water too.

Regina

Killian tossed the phone on his bed, smile still on his face as he shook his head slowly. Regina Mills was, to put it lightly, a force of nature.

She and Robin Locksley had walked into his restaurant five years ago on their first date and somehow found a way to wiggle their way into his life when Killian wasn’t particularly certain he wanted anything in his life, let alone new friends who wanted to make sure he was happy or something else overly emotional.

They’d raved about his food and Regina had tactfully avoided looking at his hand – or lack thereof.

Robin, however, had not been quite as diplomatic.

He’d come back into the restaurant the next day, taken up a seat at the bar and looked directly at Killian when he asked, “what happened?”

Killian wasn’t sure he’d actually ever been that angry. Except when he actually lost the hand. Robin took it all in stride. He sat there in front of the bar and waited, eyebrows raised as if he was only passably interested.

And, for some reason, Killian had told him.

He stood behind his bar in his slightly-successful restaurant and told this near-stranger how he’d lost his hand and his brother and everything that had ever really mattered to him.

The restaurant was all he had left.

The food was all he had left.

And, then, quite suddenly, Killian had the restaurant and the food and Regina and Robin.

He kind of felt like he owed them something.

Killian grabbed his phone again, hit reply on the screen and typed back a quick message:

Bring me some water if you want to help. And give your fiancé a break about stocking the kitchen, there’s 800,000 ingredients that need to be in there.

I’ll be there at 9:25.

K

The room spun a bit again as he stood up and he pressed his eyes together tightly at the feeling. He couldn’t quite remember the last time he’d actually been hungover.

Years.

It had to be years.

It wasn’t a feeling he particularly enjoyed anymore. After all, it had been one he’d been particularly familiar with before.

He’d blame Robin when he saw him at the studio later that morning.

Killian heard his phone ding again as he walked towards his bedroom door – Regina was nothing if not efficient – and he glanced back at the sound, eyes falling on the prosthetic that was also sitting on the nightstand, some sort of glaring reminder of everything he’d been through and everything he’d lost.

And, maybe, if he was feeling particularly sentimental, everything he’d gained as well.

Killian shook his head, pushing that sentiment to the deepest corner of his brain and thinking only of the hot shower waiting for him down the hallway. He needed to get rid of this headache before the really big announcement.

Emma walked through the front doors of the Food Network offices on 6th Avenue, a bit out of breath after weaving through the rush hour traffic on the ‘D’ train.

She hated coming into midtown.

It was awful.

And congested. And it smelled like garbage all year long – that rumor about the smell just lingering through summer was a complete lie.

She nodded at the man sitting behind the security desk, reaching in her bag to grab her ID. “Oh, you don’t need that,” he said quickly, brushing his hands through the air. “I know who you are. You can go right up.”

“Oh,” Emma blinked several times, taken aback by the immediate foray into celebrity. She’d never get used to that. Ever. “Thanks.���

“Of course Ms. Swan.”

“Emma, please.”

His eyes widened slightly and he smiled genuinely at her, sitting up just a bit straighter. “Doc,” he said, pushing his glasses farther up his nose.

“It’s nice to meet you Doc.”

“You too, Emma. And good luck up there.”

Emma’s head tilted at the well-wish, curiosity shooting through her quickly. Doc just kept smiling and he looked so enthusiastic Emma couldn’t bring herself to ask any more questions. She was also running late – the near-constant buzzing of her phone a reminder from Ruby that she was five minutes behind schedule.

Emma jogged towards the elevator lobby, pressing the button in front of her several times as she bobbed up and down on her feet. Her phone vibrated again in her pocket.

The doors dinged open and Emma practically jumped in, impatiently hitting the floor for Ruby’s office. She made it there in twenty-three seconds. Not that she was counting or anything. She was just a bit anxious and a little bit worried as to why she’d need good luck to meet with the producer of her own show.

Emma didn’t stand on ceremony once she made it to the 17th floor, pushing open the door to Ruby’s office to find her sitting behind her desk, feet propped up on the imitation wood with a phone pressed up against her ear.

Ruby nodded in her direction, shooting a glare at Emma for good measure – she was several minutes late, after all – and continued to talk. “Yeah, yeah, she’s here now. Yeah, we’ll head up in two seconds. I know it’s big. I know. I told her. Of course I told her.” Ruby sighed dramatically and squeezed her eyes shut. “Don’t do that. No. I’m serious Z, don’t do that. I’ll get her to pick and we’ll get back to you.”

Ruby slammed down the phone receiver two seconds later, practically growling with frustration as she kicked her feet into the floor, heels making a noise that ricocheted off Emma’s brain when they landed.

“You’re late,” Ruby said, standing up and pressing out the lines of her pencil skirt, not meeting Emma’s eyes.

Emma felt guilty for a beat, scuffing her feet along the floor, half in Ruby’s office and half in the hallway. “Yeah, I know,” she sighed. “Trains were a mess. And it took awhile to get Henry to school.”

“French toast?” Ruby asked, knowingly, finally meeting Emma’s gaze and smiling softly. Emma nodded and Ruby let out a huff of air. She took a few steps towards Emma’s spot in the doorframe and squeezed her forearm. “Well, then I guess that’s ok.”

“You’re the best producer a girl could ask for.”

“Yeah, remember that feeling in two minutes.”

Emma widened her eyes at Ruby, following her and her bright-red highlights out into the hallway and back towards the elevator she just walked out of. “Wait,” Emma said quickly. “We’re not doing the great, big news announcement in your office?”

Ruby shook her head, pressing the elevator button. The doors opened almost immediately. Of course they did. “I wasn’t lying when I said this was big, Emma,” she said, stepping in and hitting the 27th floor. Emma’s eyes widened again. That was the network boss. She’d never actually been to that floor before.

Good luck up there, indeed.

“Tell me again why I had to get here at 9:25 if no one else was going to get here on time?” Killian asked, sounding like a petulant child as he spoke.

Regina threw him a glare, glancing up from her blood-red nails and the set of her shoulders practically screamed at him to stop talking.

The conference room was filled – except for two seats at the other end of the table. “We have to wait for everyone,” Zelena said, voice strained with the patience she was trying to convey. Killian smirked at her.

“And who exactly is it that we’re waiting for?”

He took stock of the rest of the room, the faces in front of him all vaguely familiar. He did, after all, own a TV. And Regina had been feeding him information as the table slowly, but surely filled up over the last ten minutes.

Graham Humbert, quiet, woodsy, builds his own fires to cook food on, sat across the table from Killian and Regina. He was his own producer too. Of course he was. Killian might have hated him a little bit already.

Belle French was on his right, flanked by her producer Anna Dellen. She hosted a dessert show that, per Regina, had something like 800 episodes and ran in syndication every night at 7 p.m. The new episodes aired on Thursday at 9:30 p.m.

She smiled at Killian, a warm look that probably could have cooked several batches of cookies or cupcakes or something equally as sweet and for a moment he actually felt bad that he’d fallen so easily into swaggering asshole mode because he had to wait a few minutes for the final chef.

He heard a pair of heels coming down the hallway, but there was another set of feet there as well and Killian strained to hear what it was. Sneakers. He could hear the squeak. And then the squeak was in the doorway and Killian couldn’t really breathe.

“Emma Swan,” Regina muttered, leaning closer to his ear.

Killian didn’t care.

Or maybe he cared about that more than anything in the history of anything.

“She hosts a show on Sunday morning,” Regina continued, filling Killian’s ear with information he absolutely wasn’t listening to. “They bumped her up an hour a couple of weeks ago, something about lower viewership, but her sales are really, really good and she’s got some kind of ridiculously devoted fandom.”

He didn’t care.

He was already her number one fan.

She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, eyes bright and so green he could even see them from across the conference room. Her hair fell softly over her shoulders, cheeks flushed – probably because she knew she was five minutes late too – and Killian wondered how he’d never seen her before, either on TV or in the building.

He knew the answer of course – he never watched TV and he avoided this building like it was the goddamn plague.

“What does she cook?” Killian asked, somehow finding his voice and hoping he actually wasn’t screaming. He had no idea. He couldn’t stop staring at her.

He knew Regina was looking at him, could feel her curious stare boring into his still aching head, but he refused to turn towards her. He kept staring at Emma, watching her cross the room and sink into one of the two empty chairs left at the table.

She must have realized he was staring – admittedly a bit like a creep – and her eyes snapped to his. Emma’s mouth opened slightly, lips parting in a silent gasp and Killian felt one side of his mouth tick up at the movement.

She didn’t smile back.

Instead, her eyebrows lowered and her eyes narrowed and her mouth closed quickly. Huh, usually the smirk worked.

“French,” Regina said. “Like fine French and so freaking delicious it’s not even funny. And stop that, Emma Swan is not going to fall for your smirk.”

Killian turned his head to look at Regina who seemed particularly pleaesd with her ability to read him so well. He didn’t get a chance to fire back any sort of witty retort before Zelena cleared her throat meaningfully and the entire table turned its attention towards the network head.

“Thanks for joining us Emma,” Zelena said pointedly and Killian thought he saw her slide down the back of her chair slightly. She sighed, tilting her head and twisting her mouth and mumbling something that sounded like an apology.

Goddamn, he was being charmed by her.

That wasn’t fair.

He was hungover. He wasn’t supposed to be charmed by anyone.

“Alright,” Zelena continued, falling into professional with ease, “the reason we’re all here is because we’ve got some big news to share with you.”

Killian glanced around the room again and wondered how he fit into this group exactly. It wasn’t like he had his own show. He had an occasional appearance on Iron Chef and a restaurant in Tribeca and a take-home line of barbeque sauce that made an absolute ridiculous amount of money.

Regina promised him this news was big and important to his position on the network, but he was a celebrity chef in the loosest sense of the term. He also hated the term. Killian didn’t want to be a celebrity.

He wanted to cook.

Because it was the only thing he’d ever actually had any control over. Or, in a completely depressing turn of events, had ever actually been any good at.

“Sit up straighter,” Regina muttered, kicking at his ankle underneath the table.

Killian glared at her, but did as instructed, more worried about the consequences of not listening than giving in to his producer. “Yes, mom,” he whispered sharply, not taking his eyes off Zelena.

“We’re going to be staging something new over the next twelve months,” Zelena said. “A network-wide competition with some of our biggest stars. We’re going to do four shows that are already popular on the network – Cutthroat Kitchen, Chopped, Cupcake Wars and Grocery Games – then as a grand-finale of sorts, we’re going to do one final competition between the four of you. You’ll have to cook a five-course meal and be able to produce the recipes for our viewers. We’ll be selling the combined book once the series wraps next year.”

Killian bit back the groan that was threatening to work its way out of his chest.

He didn’t have time for this.

He hadn’t told Regina yet, but he and Robin had spent the last month talking about the possibility of expanding The Jolly Roger. The restaurant had been doing well – absurdly well – since Iron Chef and the pop-up shops they’d done during the holidays for the sauce were an overwhelming success. He didn’t even have to charge Robin and Regina a catering fee for their wedding – not that he would have anyway, but it was more fun to flaunt his success a little bit as a reason for letting them off easy.

Killian didn’t have time for some year-long competition that paraded him in front of cameras and made him compete against people he didn’t even know.

He chanced a glance at Emma Swan who definitely had slid down her chair at this point. She was glaring at her producer and her lips were moving so quickly it barely even looked like she was talking.

She didn’t like the idea either.

“I’m not doing this,” Killian said softly.

“Yes you are,” Regina said and the tone of her voice suggested there was nothing to argue about. Killian wasn’t ready to go down without a fight though.

He could argue over anything.

Liam would have said...Killian shook his head quickly, banishing those thoughts as quickly as they came. He was just hungover. That was the only explanation for the questionable number of times he’d thought about Liam in the last two hours.

He usually did his best to not think about his brother.

“As an added bonus,” Zelena said, seemingly oblivious to the disappointed mood the room had adopted in the last 30 seconds. “This whole thing is going to be for charity. So you’ll win money in every round and then the person with the most money and the most wins ahead of the five-course extravaganza will earn an extra $50,000 to the charity of their choice.”

Killian’s head snapped towards Regina, who had a smug smile on her face. She crossed her arms and leaned back against the chair. “Told you you’d do it.”

Emma all but stormed out of the conference room twenty minutes later, keeping a step ahead of Ruby so she wouldn’t actually have to talk about this.

This was not the great, big news she was hoping for.

She’d been hoping for better news about the timeslot or the viewership numbers or maybe another cookbook idea. A year-long charity competition against three other celebrity chefs was not something Emma was particularly interested in.

She simply wasn’t a competitive person.

She fought for what she wanted and who she loved and that was it – she didn’t want to battle anyone. She wanted to get a better timeslot.

And make Henry dinner more often.

“Emma,” Ruby sighed, grabbing her wrist and yanking her to a stop. Emma barely had a chance to appreciate that she wasn’t wearing five-inch heels as she managed to keep her balance. “Come on, give me two seconds to explain what’s going on here.”

Emma heaved a sigh and spun around, meeting Ruby’s slightly-apologetic look with full force. She sighed again, realizing quite suddenly, that her producer wasn’t actually trying to back her into a corner.

“Let me guess,” Emma said. “You didn’t have a choice.”

“I didn’t.”

“Of course.”

“Come on,” Ruby pleaded, hand still wrapped around Emma’s arm. “You know I’d fight for you if I thought I could get you out of this. But I can’t. And you should take it as a compliment anyway. You heard Zelena, this just means you’re one of the network’s most popular stars.”

“Who has to regularly ship her kid off on her brother and his wife so she can continue to be that popular.”

“Henry understands.”

“That’s the problem.”

“What’s the problem?”

Emma spun around at the voice, coming face-to-face with a man she only passably recognized. He was on one of the competition shows. At least she thought he was. She’d never actually seen him in the network offices before.

Which wasn’t entirely fair because Emma avoided the network offices as much as humanly possible.

“Nothing,” she said quickly.

He actually smirked at her. Who the hell was this guy?

He was, admittedly, ridiculously attractive – all dark hair and blue eyes and a simple sense of confidence that put Emma at ease much faster than she wanted .

She glanced back over her shoulder at Ruby who was determinedly staring at her phone, ignoring the entire situation entirely. Traitor.

He stuck his hand out into the space in front of them and Emma stared at it skeptically. “It won’t bite,” he said, voice tinged with laughter.

Emma glared at him. “I wouldn’t put it past it. Or you.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“Precisely.”

“And yet I know you think there’s some sort of problem with this competition,” he said, hand still hanging in the air. He wiggled his fingers quickly and did something absolutely absurd with his eyebrows, making Emma’s stomach flip in a way that it hadn’t since she was a teenager. “Seems kind of lopsided doesn’t it? Only fair we remedy that situation, I think.”

Emma sighed and narrowed her eyes. He was still smirking at her. “What do you suggest?”

“Killian Jones,” he said simply, shaking his hand again meaningfully. “Nice to meet you.”

Emma wrapped her fingers around his, startled slightly at how warm his hand was and glanced up to meet his gaze straight on.

She felt a pull in her stomach as his fingers laced through hers and she knew Ruby was smiling at her from the other side of the lobby.

“And you are, love?” he prompted. Emma widened her eyebrows, head jerking back slightly at the endearment. She also got the distinct impression he already knew the answer to that question.

“Emma Swan,” she answered.

“Nice to meet you, Swan,” he said, squeezing her hand before dropping it back to his side.

“Not to be rude,” Emma said softly, noticing immediately the tension that practically flew to his shoulders. He took a step back and his left hand moved behind his back. She bit back the questions about that and focused on the first question she was trying to answer. “What show are you on exactly?”

The tension was gone as soon as it came and the smirk was back and Emma felt her defenses go back up immediately. “You, love, are in the presence of an Iron Chef.”

“Oh my God,” Emma laughed, the sound bubbling out of her before he could stop it. “Are you serious?”

“Why would I joke about something as serious as a food competition we stole from Japan?”

Emma stared at him, waiting for the rest of the joke or the next cocky comment. It never came. He kept his hand trained behind his back and continued to smirk and, God, his eyes were absolutely unfair.

“As mentioned, I don’t know anything about you,” Emma said.

He laughed softly under his breath. “You don’t watch your own network’s shows?”

Caught.

Emma bit her lip tightly, pulling it back behind her teeth and Killian laughed again as he ran his right hand through his hair. He stepped back towards her, crowding into her space and making her wonder if maybe she should watch her own network’s shows.

“I’ve got other things going on,” Emma brushed off, waving her hands quickly and trying to not actually come in contact with his ridiculously tight black t-shirt. It was the beginning of September and it was warm, but it wasn’t just-tshirt-weather-warm. Emma was upset about it – but that may have mostly been because it was absurdly attractive.

“Things would make this year-long competition for charity a problem?”

Emma gaped at him, eyes still wide and Killian grinned at her. “I don’t have a problem with charity,” she mumbled.

“Just competition?”

She pressed her lips together tightly and Emma knew the moment he realized he’d figured it out. “How could you possibly know that?”

“You’re something of an open book.”

“That so?” she asked, glancing nervously over her shoulder. Ruby was still staring at her phone. Emma was going to have a very serious conversation with her producer as soon as she figured out a way to get out of this lobby. “You’re a psychic and an Iron Chef? That’s impressive.”

He rolled his shoulders – hand still behind his back – and looked a little nervous all of a sudden, rocking back on his heels. It didn’t last long. Zelena and another woman walked out of the conference room and as soon as the sound of heels filled the lobby, something clicked on his face.

Killian shook his head quickly and did something ridiculous with his eyebrows again. “I’m nothing short of phenomenal, love,” he said softly and his voice seemed to shoot straight to Emma’s core.

He noticed that.

Of course he did.

“Killian,” the woman next to Zelena called. He snapped his heads towards her as she nodded at the elevator. “We’ve got to talk about the next IC appearance.”

“Yeah, sure.”

He spun back on Emma, eyes bright with something she couldn’t quite recognize – a voice in the back of her head threw the word interested at her, but she refused to even entertain the thought. The guy was a part-time chef who waltzed in and out of conversations with smirks and laughter and those ridiculously blue eyes.

She suddenly realized what she had to do – she didn’t just have to play in this competition, she had to win.

“It was nice to meet you Swan,” he muttered softly, eyes darting from hers down to her lips and back up again. “I look forward to watching you work.” He smirked at her again, widening his eyes meaningfully before glancing over her shoulder. “See you later, Ruby,” he added before turning away and meeting the two women in the elevator.

“See you Killian,” Ruby said softly, finally looking up from her phone and coming to stand next to Emma.

“You want to pick a charity?” she asked, fingers dancing over her phone screen as she glanced at Emma.

“Yeah,” Emma answered. “Let’s do this.”

[ilvsyzj]

Chapter Fifteen: Full of Surprises Part 1.

12/7/2020, Monday, History Class.

     We did our usual routine. Today’s class is going to be full of surprises because my father loves telling stories and it’s going to be a long day. The good news that my father opened all the windows to let some fresh air, because today my father is going to continue talking about the bloody wars. My desk there was a a bottle of sparkling water and some sour plums. There’s a note from my father, “Please eat them when you start to feel nauseous. Love, Dad.” My father had always been sweet. Even though, my father and I don’t talk very often his small gestures are noticed by me and my family. 

Mr. Tam: Okay, let’s continue with our History lesson from last week. The last bit of the wars are very bloody. Approximately, 1.5 million humans died in the wars. Why? Because the wars  through out the years are between Mythical Creatures and the Humans. This war has been going on for centuries. There has been multiple treaties that has been signed and broken throughout the centuries. Because there’s always someone who is unhappy with the treaty. Either it’s a mythical creature or human. Someone will always start trouble. Just last year we signed a treaty with Her Royal Highness Wendy Ang. She is the queen of the humans. This treaty is still on going but throughout the months that this treaty that was going on, there are protests. The humans are happy with the treaty but the mythical creatures are not. The treaty is for the mythical creatures. The mythical creatures aren’t allow to go to the Mortal Kingdom, because if any mythical creatures goes into the Mortal Kingdom, they would go into their primal state and they will start killing the humans. The humans are very happy that none of the mythical creatures can come to the Mortal Kingdom, but the mythical creatures aren’t happy. Because some mythical creatures are rogues. Such as rogue vampires, rogue werewolves, rogue fairies, and rogue witches. The King You is doing everything to keep the rogues under control. But sometime rogues don’t listen to the King. Those who doesn’t listen to the King will normally do whatever they want. That includes attacking mythical creatures and humans. The rogue werewolves and rogue vampires would bite their victims and turn humans into half breeds. Rogue fairies would hypnotize their victims to fall in love with them, and turn their victims into sex slaves. The most horrible thing about these rogue fairies is that if their victims don’t do what these rogue fairies wants them to do, the rogue fairies will eat their victims. 

Jazzy: -gags, take a sip of sparking water, and eat a sour plum- 

Mr. Tam: The worst is that rogue witches will turn their victims into toads, snails, and bats. Then the rogue witches will use these toads, sails, and bats in their potions. So the treaty states, that rogue werewolves, rogue vampires, rogue, fairies, and rogue witches can’t go into the Mortal Kingdom to get their next victims or meals. The humans can’t come to Mythical Kingdom and kill every single mythical creatures they come across. After the treaty was sign things has been peaceful. But peace doesn’t last long and the rogues are getting restless. So they decided to attack their own kind. This Peace Between Mythical Creatures and Humans was signed on 12/3/2019. It was signed on Mythical Kingdom. So, today I’m going to give you guys a project. I have in my hand are the Counsel reports of our A+ Rank Mission. I’m going to hand these reports out and you’re to read it. From what you read in these reports, I want you to come up with a blue print that you can use in the future. You can write down any problems that you see in our reports, and find better solutions to these problems. That’s the first part of your project. The second part of your project is to write a 5 page paper on how you will refine the peace treaty of mythical creatures and humans. You never know the King might like your ideas and he might use them in the future. Any questions?

R.M.C. Members: No Sir. 

Mr. Tam: Okay. That is all for today. You’re all dismissed. 

   We all return to the Common Room. Had lunch, cleaned up, and the Healers returned to their classes. The R.M.C. members went to our Work Study. We did our history project. The first thing we did was read the directions in our iPads. Then we read the report. What my father didn’t tell us is that this report was going to gruesome. The first idea that came to my head was when we write our reports, we don’t need to describe the attacks that gruesome. I wrote down my first idea. As we continue to read the reports we can see that there was a need of improvements. Such as how to protect our clients better. In the report all 30 members of the Royal Court was assembled and was escorting Her Royal Highness Wendy Ang to Mythical Kingdom. The problem is that the Royal Court made too easy for the enemy to attack. The better way to escort a client is to have smaller guards surround the client, while the other members would be on the look out. So, when there is an attack the main group would be warn ahead of time. The second problem was that the Royal Court took the same route that they started. A better way is to take a different route to get to their destination. That way the enemy can’t find their scents. We also found out that 10 of the Healers were killed. Those 10 Healers were the Royal Court’s soul mates. Those 10 Healers were killed by rogue werewolves. Since Healers only can heal and they can’t fight back, they didn’t stand the chance against the rogue werewolves. Rogue werewolves likes to seek out the weakest links in the Royal Court. And Healers are the weakest links. We came up a better plan and that is to have no Healers, but use the potions that we make ourselves to heal ourselves. 

    Phil, Simon, Chris, Kevin, Charlie, Vincent, John, Hank, Jeff, and Nick were crying. Because their mothers were Healers and they were on the mission last year. Their mother were all killed by the Rogue Werewolves. Those wounds has never been completely healed yet. So we stop our work. I told them if they want to talk about it, they can speak freely. But all of shook their heads. So, I let the subject drop. We continue our work. Our project is going to be due on at the end of week 6. So we have four weeks left to do it. But today we are just writing down our ideas. 

Sky: What are the ideas have you guys written down?

Jazzy: I wrote down three ideas. 1) Instead of having the entire group escort the client, it should be one group escorting the client and everyone else is spread out and those who are spread out are the look outs. 2) Healers stays behind and only use potions that we make to heal ourselves. 3) The road that we start out can’t be use again when we are coming back. We have to take an different route. 

R.M.C. Members: Mhm.

Sky: All of us have the same ideas. 

R.M.C. Members: Mhm. 

Phil: But three ideas aren’t going to be enough. I think there are more problems in the report we can do better. 

R.M.C. Members: Mhm. 

Sky: Based on the report, there’s an mistake that they made and that mistake is that they didn’t bring enough weapons. In the future we should bring enough weapons. 

R.M.C. Members: Mhm.

Phil: Another problem is that the Counsel with the elements did most of the work. Plus the Counsel with the elements are using their powers for short range. They were wore out by the time they are done killing the Rogue Werewolves. When we do these A+ Rank Missions the Element users will be in the back and Non-Element users are in the front. Because spell casting is better for long range than close range. 

R.M.C. Members: Mhm. 

William: I also found that they were using too many horses, and all of the Royal Court was transformed into their werewolves forms. In the future we should only have one carriage and two horses. The rest of us would not transform into our werewolves forms. We walk in our human forms because we can get into battle faster. It took the Royal Court a full 5 minutes to react. We need to react faster. 5 minutes is too slow. 

R.M.C. Members: Mhm. 

Sam: Okay, so lets do a draft blue print first then when we find more we’ll add more to the draft. If we find there’s no other problems then we’ll draw up the final blue print. Agree?

R.M.C. Members: Agree. 

    I was reading other stuff that was in the report and I found out that my father was an Element user. I never seen my father used his powers. So finding out that his powers was fire just like me. I was very surprised. The most surprising thing was my father didn’t use his powers during the attack. The reason in the report was that he was sick, so sick that he couldn’t use his powers. When I read that, my gut told me that the report was a lie. My mother was at the mission and she was a healer, but she wasn’t hurt. Which I’m thankful for. But there something else that was off, it said that my mother was the first to sense that there was danger. But in the report said that my mother couldn’t sense anything until danger was 5 feet upon them. I find that weird. 

Jazzy: Why would my parents have such poor response time? 

Rich: Maybe they were off that day.

Jazzy: It just doesn’t seem like them. As I was a child mom would always on time, and she can sense if I, or Jess, or dad was in trouble or not. As for dad, even though, I never saw my dad use his powers. But when we were camping, it will only take dad 2 seconds to light a fire. I just don’t get it. 

Rich: Oooo! -excited- We have a mystery on our hands. :)

Sky: No we don’t. If we seek out the truth then we have to report it to the King. Mr. and Mrs. Tam can get into a lot of trouble. They can be executed. 

Phil: Sky’s right. It’s best to keep things in the past. 

Jazzy: But what if my gut is telling me to seek out the truth?

    Before anyone can answer my father walked into the Common Room with my mother. 

Jazzy: Dad! Mom! What are you two doing here? 

Mrs. Tam: I sensed that you have questions for us. So we came to help you understand. What happened in the past. You all deserve to know the truth. 

Sky: What about my father? 

Mr. Tam: The King knew about the truth. Before you today. The King gave Mrs. Tam and I a second chance. We are here to tell you guys the truth so you guys can learn from our mistakes. Also, not to let happened in the future again. 

Sky: I don’t believe that my father knows. 

     Just the King showed up out of no where. 

Sky: Dad! What are you doing here?

King You: I’m here because you never believe what other people says that I know something. The only time you’ll believe people is when I’m sitting in front of you. 

Sky: I have a hard time believing people because they can make something up. I’m afraid that if Mr. and Mrs. Tam tell us what really happen and Sebastian hears about it. Then he’s going to have to report to you, and before anyone knows it Mr. and Mrs. Tam will be gone in a blink of eye. Having you in the same room while they talk, I feel better because I know you were here, and you witness it. Sebastian has the ability to spread rumors about other people. Plus he lives 20 minutes away from here. I also I don’t trust Sebastian. Once he spread rumors, Jazzy is going hear about it and everyone is going down her. I don’t want that. 

King You: I understand that. I was there last year. So the truth is Mr. and Mrs. Tam wasn’t locked up in the Mortal Kingdom. They didn’t even come home until 2 weeks later. Why? Because it was Sebastian’s idea to have them stay in the Mortal Kingdom for an extra 2 weeks. While the rest went home. Sebastian said that it was quicker to go back to the Mythical Kingdom the same way we came to Mortal Kingdom. But it was an trap that was set up by Sebastian. I knew that it was trap since we started our mission, because Sebastian is after the crown. Also, at the end of the report, it was signed by Sebastian. Your grandfather didn’t really read the reports. So, he didn’t know that Sebastian was scheming. Your grandfather believed everything that was written in the report. He didn’t even question why Jazzy’s parents didn’t return until 2 weeks later. Your grandfather just toss the report to the side, and just said, “Good job.” I had a gut feeling that Sebastian gave your grandfather some excuse. And your grandfather believed him. 

Jazzy: Why did Sebastian make my parents stay at Mortal Kingdom for an extra 2 weeks?

Mr. Tam: Because Sebastian thought the humans was going to riot after we left, and after the treaty was signed. Your mom and I didn’t want argue with Sebastian, because we didn’t want to anger him. He was our Lieutenant. So we listen to people who is a higher rank then we were. The truth was there wasn’t any riots after the Peace Treaty was signed. Your mom and I helped the humans rebuild their homes, schools, office building, and parks. When we left the humans was very happy. We wrote our reports that Sebastian nor the previous King read, they just toss it to the side. We went about our way. 

Jazzy: Where is the real report?

King You: Sebastian burned it. There’s no other copy. 

Sky: So, in the future when we take a A+ Rank Mission we have to choose carefully. 

King You: Not that. From now on make sure you screen people. I know you trust your teammates now, but you should be on your guard among friends because they will change over time, and they will eventually stab you in the back. So, when you assign them work, make sure you listen to each other and follow your gut. If something seems out of place act on it. Don’t just brush it off. 

R.M.C. Members: Understood. 

Mr.  Tam: Don’t make the same mistakes that we made. We made a lot of mistakes in the past. You’re only reading one report. The Royal Court Library has a lot of a lot of our reports, some of them are written by Sebastian but most of them are written by your father, myself, and the other Royal Court members. But please heed this warning, don’t look for trouble. Whatever Sebastian written in the reports leave them be, and do better in the future. Sky is right. Leave things in the past. If Sebastian finds out that you are looking for trouble, he would come after you. Understand?

R.M.C. Members: Understood. 

Jazzy: What is Sebastian?

King You: Sebastian is a very powerful Rogue Sorcerer. No one can beat him. So don’t piss him off. If you do he will make your life a living hell. If he tells you do something, just do it and don’t ask questions. 

R.M.C. Members: Understood. 

Rich: I guess that surprise test on Sunday was to see if we would define him. 

King You: Yes. Sebastian loves to give surprise tests. Just do them and pass them. Don’t talk back to him. Do as he says. Also, it helps you get better tracking skills. It will help you in the future. 

Mr. Tam: Mhm. 

Mrs. Tam: Sebastian is an evil dude, but the guy does have amazing tracking skills. You have to admit. 

Mr. Tam and King You: Mhm. 

Jazzy: I guess, I got mom’s powers. Because I read people like a book. 

Mr. Tam: No. You got that from your grandfather from your mom’s side. He can sense people like they were books with just one glance. Also, your grandfather from your mom side can read minds. You haven’t experienced that yet. But you will as your power grows. If you can’t control the mind reading power you’re going to get a very large headache. 

Mrs. Tam: My father can control it, but sometimes when he read’s too many minds he does get headaches. Don’t read too many minds at once. You will get those headaches as well. That will put you in bed for the rest of your life. 

Jazzy: Understood. 

King You: Mediation is good for you. Do more. 

R.M.C. Members: Mhm. 

   After getting all these information from the King and my parents. We had a better understanding about the situation. All three of them left and we ate dinner, than we cleaned up and went to bed. But after I showered I felt something was wrong with me. I began to have cramps and feeling feverish. I have know idea what was wrong with me. 

-To be Continue- 

[ellenesh-blog]

You dont get a degree in coaching

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[radarbrow2-blog]

The Linc - Eli Manning could be staying in the NFC East for “years” to come

Let’s get to the Philadelphia Eagles links ...

Pat Shurmur still thinks Eli Manning has years left as a quarterback - Big Blue View Shurmur was asked if, as he indicated when he was first hired, he believes Manning still has “years” of productive play left. His answer? “Yes, I do.” Finally, Shurmur was asked why he believes that. His answer? “Because I’ve seen him play good football, and I’ve seen how when we have a coordinated effort of protecting him, running the football effectively, and being able to run the ball throughout the game, it helps us. We threw the ball more than I would have liked to in the game that was really one score, but seven of those throws were two-minute before the half, and then there were 15 in the fourth quarter when we were down by 17. That skews the numbers. The important thing about yesterday in our coordinated effort was we didn’t get enough out of the runs when we chose to run the ball.” All of that certainly sounds like a coach willing to cast his lot with Manning again next season.

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10 thoughts on the Eagles’ huge win over the Rams - BGN The Eagles don’t have a quarterback controversy. Carson Wentz is still very much the Eagles’ franchise quarterback. He’s the long-term answer at the position. Go back and watch his 2017 tape if you need to remember why that’s the case. In the short-term, though, Foles should probably continue to start for the Eagles. If Wentz was healthy, he should be the one starting. The problem is he’s not healthy right now. Wentz’s back fracture requires three months to heal, according to Pederson. The Eagles should just rest him and roll with Foles.

At the Podium #15: A “Complete Team Game” - BGN Radio A new voice graces the At the Podium series with new starting quarterback Nick Foles in the rotation. He and Doug Pederson both talk about the Eagles playing a complete team game for 60 minutes in their upset of the Rams. In total 3 pressers included: Doug after the game, Foles after the game, and Pederson the next morning. FLY EAGLES FLY! Powered by SB Nation and Bleeding Green Nation.

Handing out 10 awards from the Eagles-Rams game - PhillyVoice Jim Schwartz has been out-coached a few times this season, but on Sunday night he had Sean McVay’s number. He dialed up blitzes at the perfect moments, and helped fluster and confuse Goff all game long. McVay, the (cough) 2017 NFL Coach of the Year, had some questionable moments. To begin, he messed up clock management late in the fourth quarter. And worse, he didn’t go for two with the Rams down eight after they scored a touchdown to draw within one score. Earlier in the season, Doug Pederson was in the same situation, and he explained the bulletproof logic in going for two in that scenario.

There is Hope - Iggles Blitz The Eagles have now won three out of their last four games. The only loss was at Dallas and we know that game could have been very different if the officials gave the Eagles the ball at the 16-yard line after the opening kickoff. That didn’t happen and the Eagles never could completely get their feet under them in that game. Injuries have significantly hurt this team and the Eagles aren’t going to play at the same level as last year. We can talk about Next Man Up and toughness and chemistry, but at a certain point you just don’t have enough talented players. Getting Avonte Maddox back made a real difference in the secondary. That gave the Eagles a competent CB. If the Eagles could get back Jordan Hicks, Tim Jernigan and Sidney Jones, the defense could take another step forward.

Explaining The QB Picture; Leftover Notes From Sunday - PE.com While Wentz remains the starting quarterback here – and there is no gray area at all in Pederson’s mind – the short term (meaning Sunday against Houston) belongs to Foles. The Texans are powerful up front defensively with J.J. Watt and Jadeveon Clowney on the edges, so Foles and the offense will see a whole new set of challenges against a 10-4 team. The long term belongs to Wentz – if the Eagles make the playoffs and Wentz is healthy, he likely starts, and he’s certainly the starter in 2019 and for many years after that.

Avonte Maddox: A Skeleton Key For Eagles Defense - The Draft Network What is Avonte Maddox in the healthy Philadelphia Eagle secondary? I’m not too sure, but I do know this: it’s not your average rookie, who can start at three different alignments (two of which he didn’t even dabble in in college) and provide quality reps from each position. Your average rookie corner doesn’t even hold his water against the Rams if he A) has been starting on the outside all season and B) was drafted in the early rounds! Maddox has been an absolute gem for Philadelphia — arguably the highest-impact draft pick they’ve had since Carson Wentz back in the 2016 class. He has more than earned a starting role somewhere next season — I’d imagine at nickel corner — but more than that, he has held this threadbare defense together long enough, well enough, and just strongly enough the Eagles playoff hopes are still alive.

The NFL’s biggest surprises, and who could copy them in 2019 - ESPN The Eagles have a 28.8 percent chance of making the postseason, and while they’re left with a pair of winnable games against Houston and Washington, I’m not sure that the formula we saw Sunday is something Philly could sustain into a long playoff run. They were able to hold a frustrated Sean McVay to 23 points on five red zone trips, as Jared Goff struggled to hit open receivers and made naive decisions with the ball. They won the turnover battle 3-1, which is going to be tough to do week after week with Nick Foles at quarterback. Pederson seemed to struggle to get the aggressiveness balance right yet again, but the Eagles managed to pull out the game when the Rams lost one possession on a fumbled punt and were stopped in the red zone on their subsequent try.

The Winners and Losers of NFL Week 15 - The Ringer “They’ve got Nick Foles” shouldn’t be a good thing. We saw him struggle in September. There are full years of evidence that Foles isn’t that good at playing quarterback, and just a few odd wins in December, January, and February to support the notion that Foles is an unstoppable clutch god. But it’s December. The mild-mannered backup quarterback just went into the phone booth, and he came out wearing a Super Bowl MVP’s clothes. It’s Nick Foles season.

How a Players-Only Meeting Sparked the Colts’ Recent Turnaround - MMQB While we’re there, a key number from that Eagles win: 30. That’s how many times Philly ran the ball, even with Josh Adams and Wendell Smallwood doing the heavy lifting, and it sure seemed to change the offense’s dynamic. I had a coach who’d played the Eagles a few weeks ago mention to me how hard the running back injuries seemed to be hitting them. What they needed, it seems, was more balance. Sunday night’s performance (31 passes, 30 rushes) went a long way to getting the efficient effort they did from Nick Foles.

Fletcher Cox battles through injury to ruin Jared Goff’s night - NBCSP “Nothing was going to stop me from finishing that game,” Cox said after the game like it was obvious. Nothing. Not only did Cox return to the game, on his first series back in the second quarter, but he also made a huge play. In a contest that featured some of the best pass rushers in the league, including the NFL’s sack leader on the other sideline, Cox in the second quarter picked up the only sack for either team on Sunday night.

Needy Camden families receive holiday baskets from Eagles player foundation - Courier Post A foundation headed by Philadelphia Eagles safety and Super Bowl champ Malcolm Jenkins gives away holiday food baskets and toys in several cities, but on Monday he expanded the program to Camden and with an unexpected personal visit. Fresh off the Eagles plane that landed Monday morning in Philadelphia following a 30-23 win over the Los Angeles Rams just before midnight Sunday, Jenkins arrived by 10 a.m. at the Antioch Baptist Church on Ferry Avenue in Centerville. There he helped wrap food and toy gifts for nearly 140 needy Camden families, working alongside approximately 100 volunteers from city churches, the local government and other organizations.

What kind of person wears a Kenjon Barner jersey? Stories behind the 10 oddest jersey choices at Eagles-Rams - The Athletic “I’m a Chargers fan. I was kind of butt-hurt when the whole thing went down with L.A. and them moving. My roommate at the time was an Eagle fan. He gave me the jersey. I got rid of all my (Chargers) shit. Before they won the Super Bowl, so I’m not a bandwagon jumper! And, it was a free jersey, that’s why I took it.” — Karl

A tradition unlike any other: The Cowboys falling apart down the stretch - Yahoo! Sports OK. How about this for a reality check: These Dallas Cowboys – despite digging themselves out of a hole and smoothing out some rough edges during a five-game winning streak – still look like the same, old franchise that finds a way to fall apart when everything is supposed to be coming together. You can call that a coaching problem. You can blame some talent holes. You can curse the decades of Jerry Jones failures. But whatever you do, don’t call this team anything different than so many others that have teased the fanbase and then collapsed when it mattered most. That’s the reality, and here is the check: Until Dallas proves it’s capable of something different than the decades of frustration we’ve come to know, assume this kind of loss. Where the only silver lining is reaching for a suggestion that getting beaten down on the road against a good (but not great) team is somehow precisely what the franchise needed.

Looks Like Someone Has a Sixpack of the Mondays - Hogs Haven Before we talk about that potential victory, let’s give Josh Johnson some love. The 32-year old (because apparently the Redskins aren’t allowed to have quarterbacks younger than 32) played well enough to help the team get a win. What he lacks in “established success” and “pedigree,” he makes up for with effort and passion. Because of the money wrapped up in Alex Smith, and because Colt McCoy is likely to be the projected starter in September 2019, the Redskins are in need of a cheap option to consider going into camp next summer. Someone was/is going to be able to play their way into at least those plans. If Josh Johnson manages to helm this Redskins team to an unexpected playoff appearance, he will have earned the right to come back next summer and compete for a spot. While I am not saying this is the case now, he could even give the team an excuse to not draft a quarterback early in the draft. Maybe...maaaaaaaaayyyyyyybe. The Jaguars defense has not been the top-ranked unit we have seen in recent seasons, but it still has a load of talent and Johnson deserves some love for keeping the offense in the game.

Should Los Angeles Rams fans be hitting the panic button? - Turf Show Times The Rams are 11-3 and I believe, despite what I’ve said up to this, that they have as good a shot as any other team to win the Super Bowl this year. This isn’t the same kind of frustration I’ve felt during the Jeff Fisher, Steve Spagnuolo, Jim Haslett or Scott Linehan eras. This isn’t the hopeless feeling of rooting for a team destined to finish 4-12. This is the fear of watching what is probably the most talented roster in the NFL get dropped in the divisional round. Swept away and forgotten by everyone but us Rams fans. And all we’d be left with is a series of “what-ifs.”

The Cowboys should fire offensive coordinator Scott Linehan while it still matters - SB Nation The Dallas Cowboys were shut out Sunday for the first time since 2003. The 23-0 loss to the Indianapolis Colts took the wind out of the sails of a team that entered Week 15 on a five-game winning streak and comfortably ahead in the NFC East. It’s not panic time, though. The Cowboys are still ahead of Washington and Philadelphia, and finish the year with winnable games against the 5-9 Buccaneers and 5-9 Giants. Winning just one of those games would be enough to lock up the division crown. But some urgency to fix a clear problem is warranted — especially if the Cowboys hope to win in January. It’s time for the Cowboys to fire Scott Linehan. Or rather, it’s long overdue.

...

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Source: https://www.bleedinggreennation.com/2018/12/18/18145955/eagles-news-eli-manning-could-staying-nfc-east-years-giants-philadelphia-quarterback-nfl-new-york

[iamashamedofmyfanfics]

Hunters, Lies, And Leaders (29)

Hunters, Lies, And Leaders (by iamashamedofmyfanfics)

Pairing: None, S.Coups, Woozi, and Hoshi centric (platonic ot13 and unit specific friendships) Genre: Friendship, Fantasy Universe: Other AU Rating: PG13 Length: Chaptered (ongoing) Warnings: Violence Chapters: [Start] [28/Previous] [30/Next]

Notes: . If you’d rather read the whole thing there, the AO3 Version is {here}.

Summary: Hunters are trained warriors meant to fight monsters. They’re here to learn how to do deal with monsters, after learning how to fight. Why it seemed like most of the students don’t know what their doing, is beyond them.

On the day of their next hunt each team is herded into a van, and taken to different places. They’ve trained together everyday up until this point, but anxiety seems to settle over all of them, anyway.

Jihoon sighs, starring out of the window as their professor drives them. They’ve already been told they wont get any help from their professor if something goes wrong. It’s all up to them. There’s a very real chance of injury or even death. Jihoon turns in his seat, to look over his team. He can see their worry, but can’t offer any comfort. It’s not something a simple reassurance can fix.

At the van coming to a stop, Jihoon looks back out of the window. They aren’t so far from the school that it took a long time, but they are far enough for it to be out of view. They sit on the edge of a forest, where it merges into a beach. The ocean is calm, the weather warm. Everyone steps out of the van, and their professor looks them over before speaking.

“This is a real hunt. Unlike the last time, this area isn’t enclosed. Nor do we have camera’s set up, so we can keep track of you. I already said this, but I’ll reiterate: you’re on your own. Except, you still have each other. There’s a monster that’s been spotted multiple times around here. It’s red, approximately eight feet tall, while walking on four legs, has black eyes, and is said to look very deer-like. This is the monster you’re hunting. However long it takes you to find, and eliminate, it, is how long this test will go on.”

The team shares looks, understanding falling over them. Even if it takes days. This is a real hunt.

They’re two days into their hunt, when they realize how much work this task actually is. The monster hasn’t been forced into a smaller area, convenient to find like last time, so they have to actually put to practice the skills of an animal hunter. The first step to that, is trying to find tracks, or other signs of he monster, but that’s more difficult in actuality than it is in theory. It’s luck, really, that they find tracks. They're a bit further into the forest, and far further south, than they initially arrived at, when they do.

From there, most of them don’t actually know how to follow those tracks, or how to tell if they’re new. “For people calling ourselves Hunters, we kind of… suck.” Jeonghan is the one to voice their thoughts, and Jihoon sighs.

It’s Seungkwan who laughs at them- drawing their attention- and moves to get a closer looks at the tracks. “I guess you should be grateful I’m here!”

“Why’s that?”

“Oh,” Jihoon mutters, realization setting in. “Seungkwan lived near the edge of the kingdom, he had to hunt for food.”

“Yep!” Seungkwan grins, spinning around to face the team. “So I can’t say anything for sure, but it seems like these are pretty new. If we follow them, we might be able to catch up, or at least figure out how fast it’s moving or what it’s doing. Monsters aren’t animals so it’s a bit different, but I think this’ll work!”

With nothing else to go on, and a certain amount of confidence in Seungkwan, the group sets out, following the tracks.

Rather than finding the monster itself, the first real evidence that they might be able to catch up to it, comes four hours later. There have been, every other minute, complaints from the group to each other about all the walking, and exhaustion, so this evidence would probably be relief if it wasn’t just… disappointing.

The damage they find, at least, isn’t to the detriment to any humans, but that doesn’t make what they find- a fallen birds nest- any better. It must have fallen quite a ways, the nest itself and the eggs that were in it are both broken, the never-to-be mother of the nest, a hawk, dead next to it. There’s no real debate if the monster is responsible or not, as there are large hoof-prints messily strewn over the ground, showing it stopped here- likely as it attacked the nest- for some amount of time.

Seokmin gags and turns away from the sight, something which Jihoon notes. Seungkwan is shockingly silent, hand over his mouth, and Jisoo, Jeonghan, and Jihoon share a look, waiting for Seungkwan to share whatever he’s thinking about.

“This is pretty fresh.”

“What-” Seokmin starts, clearing his throat- “makes you say that?”

“It doesn’t smell as much as it would if it was old.” Seungkwan shrugs, dropping his hand. The group pauses, as if considering his words. He’s right, Jihoon realizes. If this had happened much longer ago, the tell-tale sign would be the stench of the dead animal. Something mostly absent from the scene.

“So we can catch up!”

“Not if we stand around here talking about it.” Jeonghan huffs, setting forward without any other comments. The others pause for a moment, before following.

“Seungkwan.” Jihoon motions the other towards himself, and Seungkwan falls into step next to him, eyebrow raised.

“Yeah?”

“When we get back to school, how do you feel about giving some lessons to the team?”

“Lessons? Me?” Seungkwan’s incredulous tone is second only to the confusion on his face. “You want me to teach them something?!”

“Clearly being capital-h Hunters requires more normal hunting skills than any of us really thought about, and you have those.”

“Well, yeah.” Seungkwan pauses, as if considering this, then grins. “I guess since I’m the only one you can ask, and I am pretty great at this stuff, I can offer my knowledge to you poor, unfortunate teammates of mine.”

Jihoon sighs, immediately feeling regret. “Stop.”

A loud crack echos out between the trees, and everyone except Jihoon spins around to face it. Jihoon, granted, would have turned towards it under the circumstance where it hadn’t come from so close to him. In fact, he isn’t quite sure when, but he’s gotten quite a distance from his team. Who are all staring at him, wide-eyed.

The trees around them seem to shake, as a red deer-like leg hits the ground with the monster's footsteps. They found it. For being only eight-feet tall, it sure does seem bigger, Jihoon thinks.

Maybe that’s because he’s on the ground, a realization that he only has when he looks down and notices how close to the ground he is. When had that happened? He reaches his arms out, to push himself up, only for pain to shoot through his left arm. Which is broken.

“Oh. The cracking sound was my arm.” Jihoon muses, mind finally catching up with the situation.

The monster, having noticed humans, must have instinctively attacked them when they got close. The rest of his team stares, gazes flickering between Jihoon and the monster, which is much bigger than the other one they’d faced. Something they knew, but was hard to picture until now, with it in front of them.

“Shit. Don’t just stare at it!” Jihoon pulls his arm closer to himself, and pushes himself to his feet. Nothing else seems to be broken, luckily. His words seem to break everyone out of their shock, and into action.

Seungkwan takes a step back, nocking an arrow. A normal one, likely for safety’s sake, and fires while everyone else finds positions. Jeonghan draws his sword as he flanks the monster, and Jisoo rushes forward. Jisoo doesn’t seem to have any real intent to face the monster head-on, but is just trying to keep it’s attention. Seokmin rushes to Jihoon’s side, helping him stand completely.

Jihoon takes a moment to be both surprised and proud of them for acting so quickly and smartly, before focusing on what exactly they’re going to do.

“Seokmin, you have medical supplies with you, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Seokmin nods, twisting the bag hanging over his shoulders to his front.

“Got a splint?”

“Probably?”

“Check.” Jihoon looks over to the others, while Seokmin searches his bag. Of the few supplies- their weapons aside- they brought, Seokmin had been the only one to bring more than just bandages with him. Something Jihoon regrets, now. “Seungkwan! Get somewhere higher up!”

“Okay!” Seungkwan doesn’t face Jihoon when he responds, but turns around to fumble his way up into a tree.

“I shouldn’t have to tell you, but stay away from it’s legs!” Jihoon turns back to Seokmin, ignoring whatever response Jisoo or Jeonghan might have. Seokmin fumbles to pull out everything needed to make a splint, but Jihoon ignores the disorganization, relieved that Seokmin has what he needs.

“We don’t- we’re not medically trained,” Seokmin mutters, worried.

“Since when has a lack of training stopped any of you?” Jihoon slowly stretches his arm out, surprised at how little it actually hurts. “Well, it’s numb. Wonder if that’s bad.”

While Seokmin and Jihoon try to set the latter’s arm, and apply the splint, another cracking sound echos out. This one, though, is distinctly different from the cracking of bones, being more like a whip cracking.

Then pink smoke starts slowly flowing out of a wound on the monsters back. Jisoo spins in Seungkwans direction, clearly startled. “Warn us!”

“Sorry!” Seungkwan actually manages to sound sheepish, despite the grin on his face. “But look! I was right to choose wind crystals!”

The monster charges in Seungkwan’s direction, and Seungkwan jumps from his place in a tree, onto another tree with little-to-no grace, scraping his hands on the new branch and winching as he pulls himself up. Jihoon is suddenly reminded that half of his team are without their Aura’s, and that the monster was strong enough to completely bypass his Aura to break his arm.

Jihoon pulls his arm back to him as soon as it seems like they’ve figured the whole splint thing out, and uses his Aura to apply a slight layer of ice and stop swelling. “Jisoo!”

“Yeah?”

“Stay away from the monster.”

“But-”

“It broke my arm! And you don’t have your Aura.” Jihoon holds Jisoo’s eyes, until the other reluctantly nods.

“What should I do, then?”

“Help Seungkwan out of that tree, for starters.” Jihoon takes a moment to find Jeonghan, and then calls out to him. “How do you feel about jumping out of trees?”

“Like that’s a stupid idea?”

“Great, what if I add that you jump from a tree, onto the monster.”

“Why would I do that?!”

“It can’t attack you there!”

Jeonghan stares Jihoon down, as if expecting him to change is mind. When it’s clear he wont, Jeonghan sighs, and nods.

“If I die I’ll haunt you until you die!” Jeonghan sheaths his sword, and starts climbing a nearby tree. While he does that, Seungkwan climbs down from where he was. The monster, seemingly unaffected from running head-first into the tree Seungkwan had jumped away from, turns around. Its stature, and form, make its turn around slower, but it’s still turned to face Seungkwan again before he’s managed to get down completely.

“Seokmin.”

“Yeah?”

“Get your weapon out.” That’s all the warning Jihoon has time to give, really, if he wants to keep the monster from going after his Aura-less teammates. So he reaches for his own weapon, struggles to turn the safety off with his broken arm, and then fires. An explosion gives Seungkwan time to reach the ground, and for Jisoo to reach him, but the monster seems mostly unaffected by it. It does, however, turn around to face Jihoon and Seokmin.

Seokmin and Jihoon both barely escape the full force of the monster, but Seokmin still get’s hit. It’s only because of his shield, that his Aura is able to absorb the force, the shield dampening it just enough. His Aura being a strengthening type may help, too, but Jihoon doesn’t have time to muse on that. Still, Seokmin rolls on the ground for a moment, before jumping back to his feet.

Jihoon, on the other hand, barely stays on his feet, and feels pain shoot through his arm at the sudden movement. Still, he wastes no time stumbling towards Jisoo and Seungkwan, and calling out for Seokmin to try and put distance between himself and the monster.

“Seungkwan.” Jihoon breathes out, trying to steady himself.

“Yeah?”

“Can you- the monsters attention, can you get it?”

“Probably?”

“Stand by where Jeonghan is.”

“Got it.” Seungkwan nods, running in that direction.

“Are you okay?” Jisoo’s worry is appreciated, but Jihoon doesn’t know what to tell him. Even if he isn’t, they don’t have any time to stop and regroup, let alone take care of their wounds.

“Yeah.” Jihoon pauses. “Wait, Seungkwans’ hands.”

“You think they’ll be a problem?”

“Firing a bow with messed up hands doesn’t sound great, does it?”

“Good point. Should we stop him?”

“It’s a bit late for that.” Jihoon sighs, turning to reassess everyone’s status.

Jisoo, next to him, seems unharmed. Seokmin, now about thirty feet away from where Jihoon stands, is a bit shaky, but otherwise fine. Jeonghan stands in a tree, teen feet up, sword drawn. And Seungkwan has pulled back another arrow, and taken aim.

Seungkwan fires, barely managing to hit. He winces as soon as he does, too, shaking his right hand, as if it will relieve the pain. The monster wastes no time turning towards him, and Seungkwan gets out of the way just in time. Jihoon is so focused on this, he almost misses that Jeonghan has managed his own task, sword stuck into the monster’s back being used to keep from falling off.

“What now?” Jeonghan calls out, head low to avoid the monsters antlers, as it shakes its head- and body in general- to try and remove the person on its back.

“Hold on!”

“Oh, great! Thanks!” Jeonghan’s sarcastic remarks are stopped by him making a startled noise when the monster starts jumping, trying harder to shake him off.

“Seungkwan, go stand behind Seokmin! Seokmin, keep your shield up and your aura activated!”

“Okay!” Seungkwan starts running in Seokmin’s direction. He’s moving slower now, and Jihoon takes a moment to realize just how much he’s had Seungkwan running around. They’re all tried from days of walking, he can’t imagine this helps at all.

“Got it!” Seokmin takes a position, half behind a tree, half just behind his round shield.

“Jisoo.” Jihoon turns to the other, who just nods, waiting for his instruction. “I need you to be ready to attack when I say to, okay? You’re going to be close to it’s legs, so it’s really important that you don’t hesitate.”

“I wont. I promise.” Jisoo, as if to prove his point, draws his weapon and a position ready to attack.

“Okay.” Jihoon nods. “Jeonghan! Now’s a good time to test your aura out!”

“Now?!”

“Yes, Now!” Jihoon sees, just barely, Jeonghan nod. In a moment, two things happen. Jihoon leans down to the ground, and activates his own Aura, creating a wall of ice between himself- and in turn Jisoo- and where Jeonghan and the monster are. The second thing, is a lot of wind kicking up.

While training, Jeonghan’s Aura was mostly just strong winds, without much control. It was something they quickly realized, and addressed. Something they’d been working on since. If Jeonghan could take the force behind all of that wind, and concentrate it more, he’d be able to cut through a lot with the force of wind. The last time they’d trained, he’d only been able to do this once, creating a deep slash in the ground.

This time, he manages it twice. Two slashes, on either side of himself, that run up the sides and head of the monster, are created by the force of his Aura. Something which he has only a moment to be proud of himself for, before he’s falling, his sword having come loose from the monsters back.

Jeonghan has just a moment to take in the distance he is from the ground, as well as the sudden amount of water on it, before he panics. He doesn’t know how to land. Will his Aura be able to absorb all the damage from this fall? What will he do after, if it can’t?

Jeonghan can hear Jihoon yell to someone, and sees Jisoo running in the monsters direction. While he wants to call out, his voice is surprisingly absent. Then, he finds himself rolling down something and onto the ground next to Jihoon. He looks up, and meets Jihoon’s exhaustion-filled face.

“You know, you probably could have used your Aura to slow yourself.” Jihoon sighs. Jeonghan nods, though he hadn’t at all thought about it. Turning, Jeonghan faces what caught him- a ramp of ice- and through it he can see Jisoo slash at one of the monsters legs. The ground is wet, likely from the melting of the wall that had been there a moment before the ramp that caught him took its place.

“Is he going to be okay?” Jeonghan turns back to Jihoon, who shrugs, staring at the ground. “Jihoon?”

“It’s legs are pretty skinny for it’s size, so I thought he’d be able to at least get it to tumble.” It isn’t really what Jeonghan’s concern is, but hearing the idea behind the plan does relieve some of his worry. “You should… go help.”

“Right, okay.” Jeonghan nods, pulling himself to his feet. He feels off balance, the adrenalin that he felt while falling fading and leaving him feeling tired. He pushes himself forward anyway.

Jisoo stumbles away from the monster, as it tries to retaliate against his strikes by kicking at him. It’s only because it’s slowed- presumably because of the damage Jeonghan’s done to it- that he manage to avoid it. Even then, he’s just barely escaping broken bones. The only thing keeping him moving, really, is knowing that he’s so close to cutting through one of its legs.

He hear Jeonghan’s footsteps, before he sees him. Jisoo isn’t sure why, but he feels less worried, with his teammate at his side, joining in his efforts. Maybe, he briefly thinks, it’s because their teamwork on the last monster they faced was what kept them safe, then. Jisoo can hear Seungkwan and Seokmin getting orders yelled at them, but is too focused on not dying, and keeping up his attacks, to process what they’re being told.

Jeonghan manages to strike the same place that Jisoo had previously, which seems to be all that was needed to have the monsters leg snapping. Jisoo has to grab Jeonghan’s arm, tugging him back, to keep the falling monster from crushing the other. They share a moment of triumph, before the monster swings it’s head around, antlers threatening to send them flying.

Seokmin barely tumbles into place between them and the monster, blocking the antlers with his shield, just in time. Realization that this must be what he was being told to do, hits just before Jisoo notices how surprisingly little the force seems to affect Seokmin.

“Hey, you’re using your Aura!”

“Yeah!” Seokmin manages to grin, proud. It hits Jisoo just how little any of them have been smiling since they set out on this hunt. Sure, it’s a serious job- their current states can attest to that- but he realizes just how stressed they all must be, if even the most cheerful of their group weren’t smiling.

Jisoo is broken from his thoughts, by one of Seungkwan’s arrows embedding itself in the back of the monsters head.

“Come on! We’ve nearly got it!” Seungkwan calls out, wiping his hands on his shirt. Jisoo frowns, noticing that it’s blood he’s wiping away, but there’s nothing he can do about that. Instead he turns back to the monster, which hast taken to wildly shaking it’s head back and forth.

“Seokmin, can you help us get closer to it’s neck?”

“I can help one of you, but I don’t think I can protect you both if we’re that close to it.” Seokmin looks back at them, and Jisoo nods.

“Jeonghan?”

“Yeah, I can do it. But why me?” Jeonghan faces Jisoo, eyebrow raised.

“Well I don’t have an Aura unlocked, for one.”

That decides it, it seems, because Jeonghan and Seokmin move forward. Jisoo, in turn, moves back. Without Seokmin in front of him, he’s far too close to the monster for it to be safe. There isn’t much he can do at this point, he realizes. So he makes his way towards Seungkwan, while reaching into his bag. Seokmin may have been the only one to bring more than basic medical supplies, but bandages should be good enough for Seungkwan right now.

Seokmin’s help turns out to be vital to allowing Jeonghan to attack. As, when they’re close enough, Seokmin has to block the monsters mouth- which has a startling amount of teeth- and ends up holding its head up, and away from Jeonghan, with his shield and sword. The sword, he stabs into the monsters jaw. Seokmin didn’t feel exactly ready to be this directly facing a monster, but manages not to give into the fear trying to worm its way to the forefront of his mind. He can feel scared later, when hesitating wont get one of them killed.

It take a total of eight strikes from Jeonghan, before the monster is unable to hold its head up, or use it to try and fight back. Despite knowing monster feels nothing, Seokmin can’t help but feel slightly cruel, as they continue to attack, when the monster is no longer able to fight back. It still take five more strikes, before the monster is beheaded, and it’s body collapses into dust.

Relief settles over the group, as four of the five of them gather around the remains of the monster.

“So… that sucked.” Seungkwan is the first to speak.

“Somehow it felt both easier and way, way harder at the same time?” Jisoo sighs, shaking his head. “I guess it’s because we knew what we were doing, but were still way over powered by it.”

“Well, we won?” Seokmin offers.

“What now?” Jeonghan wait for a response, but no one seems to know what they should do next. “Jihoon- where’s our leader?”

They freeze, then look around the group, realizing their leader is missing. Seokmin is the one to find him, pointing out where Jihoon is sitting on the ground, leaning against a tree. After a moment where concern is echoed across all their faces, they make their way over to him.

“Uh… are you okay?” Seokmin asks, look down at Jihoon with clear worry.

“Yeah? Just… tired.” Jihoon shrugs, before looking up at them. “It broke through my Aura, which means I used a lot of Aura there, considering, and then used it multiple time to create a lot of ice. I’m sort of… just really exhausted, guys.”

“Should we, rest? Now that we won?”

“No, not just yet.” Jihoon shakes his head, and moves to stand. Jisoo helps him to his feet, when it’s clear that the movement is difficult. “We should collect some of it’s dust, as proof we did it, and make our way north.”

“North?” Seungkwan raises an eyebrow and tilts his head.

“Towards the beach? We don’t know that this is the only monster around, and we want to at least be able to see them coming if there are more. Besides, figuring out how to get back to our teachers will be easier that way.”

“Alright.”

“So….”

“Oh, I’ll go get some of that monsters remains.” Jeonghan does just that, while the rest try to figure out which way is north.

“Suns there,” Seungkwan points, “I think it’s closer to sunset by now, so that way.” Seungkwan motions in the direction that must be North, and the group waits for Jeonghan before setting out in that direction.

“Hey, guys?” Seokmin draws their attention, after a few minutes of walking.

“Yeah?” Jisoo glances back at him.

“We did pretty good for a bunch of lying Hunters in training, right?”

Everyone’s silent, most of them unsure if that’s true or not. None of them know well enough what people who are actually supposed to be in their position are like, not really. Though some of them know graduated Hunters, they aren’t sure if they’re at the level of those meant to be Hunters in training yet.

“Yeah, you did.” Jihoon breaks the silence, effectively silencing their doubts. He is at the level he's supposed to be, after all.

As the group heads north, they wonder how the other teams hunts are going.