#I’m going to light myself on fire I spent like 45 minutes trying to figure out how to pasteurize my own damn eggs and then finally when I

[shojoboy]

Defusing a bomb <<<<<<<<<<<<<<< separating egg whites

[ma-sulevin]

In which it’s clear that I don’t get to do recreational drugs and have decided to make the Lamb of God Church episcopal for no particular reason. Some of the tags are more applicable to this chapter than the others, so, uh. Give them another glance.

Pairing: Sharky Boshaw/Female Deputy Rating: E, but mostly for swearing Warnings: Canon-typical violence, but nothing particularly explicit I don’t think Word Count: 6300, chapter four of twelve

Read it on AO3 instead and say nice things.

---

It’s almost like John knows exactly when she crosses over the Henbane River and back into the Valley. Her radio crackles to life, interrupting the comfortable silence in the car; Sharky jerks in his seat like he was falling asleep, and Mattie covers up her giggle with a little cough.

“Why… is it so difficult for you to understand that all of your efforts are absolutely, unquestionably… worthless?”

She hisses at his words, gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles blanch. She grits her teeth and pushes too hard on the accelerator, taking the car from a comfortably legal 45 miles per hour up to 55. Sharky reaches up and grabs the handle over the door, but doesn’t speak.

“You believe you're on the righteous path, you believe you're a force for good, but you're not! You're selfish. All you're really doing is quenching your thirst for blood.”

His voice is mocking, derisive, and she bares her teeth even though he can’t see. She sees a peggie on the side of the road with a regular person in the dirt on their knees, and she veers to run them over without a second thought. The peggie crumples; the captive hops to their feet and sprints away.

Maybe John has a point. Maybe she does have a thirst for blood. 

Like his people are any better.

“We're going to share a beautiful moment, and you're going to tell me your deepest… darkest… fears.”

The radio clicks off. Mattie forces herself to ease off the accelerator, but she can’t make her fingers relax on the wheel.

“A beautiful moment, huh? Sounds gross.”

She lets out a bark of laughter, fingers relaxing on their own accord. When she glances at Sharky out of the corner of her eyes, he’s smirking at her, eyes sparkling. 

“Man, he sure does have a hard-on for you.”

“Oh, my god,” she laughs again, reaching over to slap at his arm. “Gross.”

“So I’m thinkin’,” he continues, and she can hear him smiling even though she’s trying to focus on the road, “you should probably just fuck and get it over with.”

“No! Sharky! Oh my god .” She hits him again, but they’re both laughing. “You’re gonna be sorry when I throw up in this car.” 

He just shrugs and fishes around in his pockets for what turns out to be a crumpled pack of cigarettes. “I mean, if you don’t wanna give one up for the team…” He’s faster at finding his lighter, but he only gets to take one good drag before Mattie’s reaching over and plucking the cigarette out of his mouth.

“Thanks, dude,” she says, sticking it between her lips instead. She winks at him. “Thoughtful of you.”

He rolls his eyes and lights a second one. This one she lets him keep.

---

She’s met Nick Rye a handful of times, mostly at the occasional neighborhood barbeque she was bribed by Joey or Staci into attending, once to give him a ticket for going near double the speed limit in the Henbane (she knocked the recorded speed down on the ticket to give him a break, but he was going very fast), and the sight of peggies crawling all over his property makes her stomach turn.

Boomer is thrilled to be free of the car, running ahead with gleeful barks to bite at the heels of the first peggie he comes across. Shit’s on fire and there’s debris on the runway, and she suddenly remembers she never got to take the aerial tour he was always bragging about.

Sharky helps her bring down the peggies, setting even more shit on fire, and then the little battle is done (when did killing only six people become a “little battle”?) and they find Nick pacing in his garage. 

He gives her a full on hug when he sees her, almost knocks the hat off his head with his enthusiasm, and she squeezes him back in exhausted relief. She’d rather die -- actually die -- than have something bad happen to him or Kim. They’re good people, some of the best.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he says, then he releases her from his hug and puts his hands on her shoulders instead. He shakes her a little, still worked up, and is too loud when he says, “We’re fuckin’ trapped! I’m gonna kill that sonuvabitch John Seed.”

Mattie nods at him, not all that concerned at the threat even though technically she should be. “What’s up, Nick?”

“You see those peggies take off with my plane? We need it! Without it, my family is fucked. Please.” He looks up at Sharky, then back at Mattie, eyebrows drawn together over his mirrored glasses. She can see herself in them, dirty and sweaty, deep circles under her eyes, already nodding before he’s finished asking, “I need your help.”

“You think John has it as his ranch?” She’s never been, personally, but she knows people who have been, and it’s supposed to be beautiful. It also has a private airstrip, because John flies planes as a hobby . “I guess it’s the only other place that makes sense.”

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” Nick says, but he’s already letting her go and walking deeper into his garage. “I just can’t leave Kim, you know.”

Mattie and Sharky trail after him. “Yeah. How’s she doing?”

“She’s due any second. Here, you feelin’ okay?” Nick squats behind the counter and pops back up with ammo boxes in his hands. He sets them down and disappears again, coming up with a first aid kit. “I really appreciate you doin’ this for us. You know how to fly?”

She shrugs, takes the ammo she needs and then lets Sharky take a look. She doesn’t take the first aid kit.

“I’ve flown once,” she says, and it feels like a lifetime ago. “Stace -- uh, one of the other deputies was a licensed pilot, and he used to make me practice on the simulator so he could boss me around.”

Nick winces, but he nods anyway. “I can talk you through it. Just call me on the radio when you find my plane.”

“Sure thing,” she says. “I’ll go now.” 

She makes it out of the garage with Nick still thanking her, then she turns to Sharky as soon as Nick is out of earshot. “I want you to stay here.”

“What? No fuckin’ way.” He’s too loud, so she shushes him, but he just glares down at her. 

She falls into her cop stance without really thinking about it, one hand on her hip and the other hovering near her pistol. She levels a glare at him and he stares right back, not at all intimidated by the woman he spent the night spooning through her tears. “It’s dangerous, and it’s faster if I just get in by myself and fly the plane home.”

“You can’t go by yourself!” Sharky flails his arms around as though that will help him make his point. “It’s dangerous! You need my backup!”

“I need to go in quietly, and you’re good at a lot of things, but I don’t think being quiet is one of them.”

He frowns, the fight melting out of him. “I don’t like it.”

“I’ll come right back here,” she says, promises. He doesn’t understand she won’t die if she’s alone. She won’t die, she can’t die, but he… he can. She doesn’t want him to die. She doesn’t want that on her conscience, not when she can keep him safe just by making him stay with the Ryes. “Okay?”

She offers him her fist, and he bumps it after a second’s hesitation.

She makes it halfway to the ranch before he catches up with her.

“God damn it, Sharky.” She covers her eyes with her hands. “I thought you were going to stay with Nick.”

He offers her a grin. “You see, I thought about it, but I just can’t sit by and let you walk into danger by yourself. You haven’t arrested me yet, and I respect that you totally could’ve by now, but that means I owe you. You’ve pulled my ass out of the fire, literally and figuratively, and I just think I need to stick by you. You know. Ride or die?”

“Ride or die?”

Christ, that makes her chest hurt. What has she done to inspire that loyalty?

“Yeah!” He shrugs. “So… we doin’ this?”

She wants to say no. She wants to send him back to Nick, back to where he’s safe. But… he won’t listen. He obviously is dead set on staying with her. All she can do is try to keep him safe.

“Yeah,” she says. “I guess we are.”

---

John’s ranch is absolutely crawling with peggies, and Mattie sits at the edge of the property, still concealed in the trees, watching them go about their business through her binoculars. Boomer sits alert at her side, ears cocked, nose testing the air every few seconds in case one of the cultists gets close enough to smell. Sharky sits at her other side, chin in his hand, watching the peggies with a sense of detached boredom.

She finally lowers the binoculars when he sighs and starts gnawing on his nails.

“Are you having a problem?”

“I’m just ready to bang some peggie heads together, that’s all,” he says, and at least he’s kinda quiet this time. “Didn’t think it would take this long.”

Anger flares, hot and bright. “I’m trying not to get you fuckin’ killed since you won’t fuckin’ stay at the Ryes’.” Sharky freezes at the bite in her voice, lowers his hand to his lap and presses his lips together. His expression looks so much like a kicked puppy that she’s torn between laughing and feeling bad; she settles for feeling bad. “Just… give me another minute, okay? We don’t want to burn the place down.”

When his expression doesn’t shift, she leans into his space and bumps his shoulder with hers. He huffs, then when she looks back over at him, he smiles. 

“Maybe you don’t want to burn the place down.”

She raises the binoculars back up to her face, finds the peggie sniper standing on John’s roof. “Keep it in your pants, Boshaw.”

She listens to him snickering for a minute and doesn’t fight the smile from blooming on her face. It’s almost easy to forget they’re about to commit several crimes in the process of stealing Nick’s plane back from a cult leader.

“Okay, I’m going to sneak around that way,” she says, pointing around the back of the house, towards the garage. “You cover me, take out anyone who happens to notice. Once you see me in the plane, head back to Nick’s.”

Sharky frowns again. “But--”

“Would you just fucking listen--”

Boomer barks, once, a sharp warning before taking off. Something lands in the dirt between Sharky and Mattie, comes to a rest against her knee, and she doesn’t even panic when she looks down to see a grenade, just scoops it up and tosses it back where she thinks it came from -- back toward John’s house, into his yard, where it explodes and sets a truck on fire.

“Holy shit,” Sharky starts, but she barrels right over him with a simple command.

“Go!”

She rolls to the side and vaguely hopes he’s done the same, then she pops up right in the space of the peggie who threw the grenade, running forward to finish the job. She punches him in the throat, then grabs the back of his head and introduces it to her knee. It crunches sickeningly, sends pain radiating up toward her hip, and when she drops him there’s a dark, wet stain on her jeans.

The rest of the cultists fall quickly, though one gets close enough to give her what she’s sure is going to be a beautiful black eye when she’s busy ripping the wires out of the radio tower. If they hadn’t cut off most of the usual means of communication in the county to keep citizens from calling for help, they wouldn’t have to keep setting these things up for her to tear apart. 

John’s front yard is littered with corpses, abandoned weapons, and two burning trucks filling the air with thick smoke and the acrid scent of burning rubber and hot metal. Boomer runs up to her with a handgun in his mouth, and she’d be more worried if she’d never seen him do it before. She can’t quite figure out how to get him to quit, so she just leans down and takes the slobbery weapon from him and scratches him behind the ear in thanks.

He runs off again, and his spot on the porch is replaced by Sharky who has his hands tucked deep in his pockets and a wide grin on his face.

“Glad you brought me now?”

She rolls her eyes at him, but that grin is infectious and she can’t stop herself from laughing just a heartbeat later. “You’re a dork,” she says, and he just keeps beaming down at her. “Wanna go look through John’s shit?”

“Hell yeah!” Sharky bounces like this is the first time he’s considered he has mostly free reign of John’s house, takes three normal steps toward the open front doors before breaking into a jog. Mattie trails behind him, not hiding her little smile, fingers brushing over the tender spot along her cheekbone. 

It takes her three tries to find John’s kitchen, first opening up a door to a study and then a formal dining room (of fucking course -- he probably hosts Seed family dinners here, all the fucking cult leaders in one place, listening to Joseph preach and watching Faith float around the room), and then when she finally pushes the kitchen door open she nearly bumps into Sharky on his way out. He’s got a real ice pack in his hand, the kind with the little gel balls inside so it will stay flexible, and he’s wrapping a hand towel around it.

“You okay?” Even with her cold fingers pressed back to her bruise, concern that he’s hurt and she hadn’t noticed fills her, wrinkles her forehead. 

He rolls his eyes at her, then cups her jaw with one hand to hold her still and presses the ice pack against her temple. His fingers tighten when she hisses and flinches away, holding her still, and she glares up at him with her good eye.

“ ’s cold.” It’s also most of why she was looking for the kitchen, and she’s only arguing because she’s kind of embarrassed at how she assumed it was for him and how good it feels to have someone worry about her beyond what she can do for them. His fingers are warm where they’re still cupping her jaw, his thumb sweeping across her cheek, and she’s almost entirely sure he’ll be able to feel her blushing just as easy as he can see it, so she closes her eyes and leans into the gentle touch.

“I came in here lookin’ for frozen peas or some shit, but figured this would do just as well. Hell of a shiner you’re getting here, Dep. Didn’t think you’d let a peggie ever get close enough to you to take a swing.”

She licks her lips before she speaks. “It was a lucky punch.”

The ice repositions on her face, moves closer to where the punch landed, right where the bruising is worst. “You got shit luck.”

The laugh that escapes her is too high pitched, a little too hysterical, because Sharky doesn’t even know the half of it. His stroking thumb stills on her face, and she forces herself to pull back from the breakdown she can feel bubbling up in her chest. She doesn’t know if she’s going to keep laughing or burst into tears or just curl into Sharky’s body heat like a cat, but she needs to stop it.

She takes a deep breath and reaches up to take the ice pack from him. He doesn’t move right away, not even when she covers his ice-cold fingers with her own slightly warmer ones, just stands there with his hands on her face until she opens her eyes and looks up at him.

The moment stretches, silent, and then it’s gone as he lets his hands drop back to his sides and he takes a step back. “I’m gonna see if I can find any contraband,” he informs her, too loud in the quiet. “Or like, a weird sex dungeon. Seems like Johnny’d have one, somewhere.”

“You sound like Adelaide,” Mattie says, forcing a smile, glad for the subject change. She pushes deeper into the kitchen, admiring the size and decor despite herself. It would be amazing to cook in here.

Sharky’s laugh follows him down the hall, and Mattie’s finally alone again, able to lean against the counter and groan into her hand.

How has her life come to this?

---

John calls her on the radio when she takes off in Nick’s plane, clammy hands clutching the throttle and her heart already in her throat. When she hears his hissed voice coming through the receiver, she’s afraid for a few heart-stopping moments that she’ll actually be sick in Nick’s plane and she’ll have to return it to him covered in vomit.

She swallows hard and doesn’t get sick.

John’s not sure whether to be more mad that she’s taken over his house or that she’s stolen Nick’s plane, but he does manage to make a confusing reference to his walls screaming and a threat about skinning her and hanging her skin over the mantle -- which, gross, who even thinks about that? -- and she resolutely ignores the talk button on her radio. He doesn’t deserve any response she can think of.

Nick comes on when John’s finished pitching his goddamned hissy fit, guiding her through a couple of exercises to make sure the plane’s in top shape, then she flies the plane along the river back to his house.

If flying didn’t have to happen so high off the ground, she’d like it a lot more.

---

By the time she makes it back to the ranch -- having helped Nick defend his property, load his car, un load his car, and accepted water and snacks from Kim -- it’s dark out and weariness has settled so deep inside her bones she’s not sure she’ll ever feel fully rested again.

The vehicle fires have burned themselves out in John’s driveway, the doors are closed, and no peggies are in sight. Boomer’s asleep on the front porch, but he doesn’t do much more than open his eyes and sigh heavily, like he’s saying good, you’re back, do you know what time it is, young lady?, and roll over to sleep more.

The place is hazy with smoke when she opens the door, the distinctive scent of marijuana hitting her right in the face. She coughs, starts to hold her breath, then she just laughs.

“Sharky?”

He waves when he hears his name, and she finds him reclining on one of the leather couches, hat and shoes off, a joint in his hand and an ashtray balanced on his chest. 

“Party got started without ya,” he says, smile soft as he offers the joint over to her. When she hesitates, he prods, “C’mon, who’s gonna arrest you for it?”

Oh, well, fuck it. “Good point,” she says, and takes it from him. She inhales deeply, closes her eyes and holds her breath for as long as she can before releasing a thick cloud of smoke. “You been carrying this the whole time?”

“That’s the best part! John had two dime bags sitting right on the table here. Wonder what Joe would think about that.” 

She takes another deep drag before she starts to feel her muscles loosening. “They probably think it’s okay, ‘cause it’s natural, like the bliss or whatever the fuck,” she says, then passes the joint back and sits right on the low table to start unlacing her boots. “Which is, whatever, I don’t care, but it would be fuckin’ hilarious to finally nail John on possession when we know he’s doing all this other shit.”

The urge to start laughing rises up and she fights against it, focuses on getting out of her boots, then out of her bloody flannel. She badly needs a shower, but the thought of walking around until she finds one is just exhausting.

“What’s all that?” Sharky’s hand is suddenly in her space, fingers brushing over the sharpie marks on her arm. She shivers and doesn’t hide it as his touch tickles her sensitive skin, turning her hand to catch his as he starts to pull away.

“It’s how many times I’ve died,” she says, honesty coming out before she can think to lie. “I need to add one, though, since there was a fight at Nick’s.”

Sharky’s hand disappears from her view, and her stomach drops when she realizes what she’s said, what she’s admitted to, what he must be thinking --

“What the fuck?”

His hand is back, grabbing her arm and pulling her forward so he can fully see the lines covering her skin. The oldest ones, from Fall's End, are starting to fade, but there are so many others, covering her from the crook of her elbow right down to her wrist. She started out making the marks too big, so they start to taper off around #15, but they’re still easy enough to count.

“Thirty-two? You tryna tell me you died thirty-two times?”

She risks a glance up at his face, breath still caught up in her throat, but it doesn’t look like he’s laughing at her, or like he thinks she’s gone crazy. He just looks… surprised, almost in awe.

“Yeah. Mostly at the beginning, when I was by myself.” Her breath catches again when he runs the fingers of his free hand down her forearm again, clears her throat to move past it. “You’n Hurk helped a lot.”

“You’re not dead, though.”

“No. Every time I just… listen, I can’t explain it, okay? It really fucking hurts, and then everything goes black, and then I start over a few minutes before I died, with enough time to do something different. If that grenade today had exploded, I would have started over right before it landed between us, and I would’ve known to throw it back.”

She watches his face as he listens to her and stares at her arm. His eyes are red, his lips parted like he’s so shocked he just forgot to close them, and the reverence on his face is almost enough to make her cry.

“Is that what happened? Today?”

“No.” She shakes her head, her weariness creeping back and making her eyelids too heavy. “I’ve just tossed enough grenades back where they came from to not be freaked out by it, s’all.”

“Well, goddamn,” Sharky murmurs. He releases her hand and sits up straighter, meeting her eyes from his seat on the couch. “God damn .”

“Yeah, that’s the sum of it.”

Sharky takes another hit and passes the joint off to her. She takes it then snuffs it out on the ashtray that he’d let fall to the floor when he sat up.

“So you believe me?”

He blinks at her as he refocuses his attention on her instead of whatever he was looking at on the ceiling. “What? ’Course I do. You wouldn’t lie about that, would you, Dep?”

“Well. No. I just thought you’d think I’m crazy.”

He blinks at her real slow, then shakes his head again. “You’ve heard all Hurky’s stories, right?” He stops talking long enough to pull his hoodie off over his head, then he lies down on the couch. “You think all that’s real, but I wouldn’t believe you? None of this shit makes sense -- hey, watch the moneymaker.”

Mattie, who started crawling into Sharky’s space the second he was horizontal, finally gives in to the giggles brought on by a combination of relief and the gentle high from John’s weed. She removes her knee from between his legs -- the source of his panic -- by just collapsing onto his chest. He shifts, wrapping one arm around her and tucking the other behind his head.

“I don’t know if we’re in, like, a video game, or a simulation, or some fuckin’ Groundhog Day situation, or what. You’re like a, a, oh, what’re those birds or whatever that die and then come back to life? With the fire?”

She’s still giggling quietly, head on his chest, eyes already drooping as he warms her. “Phoenix.”

“Hell yeah, you’re like a phoenix! Joe-bro is definitely going down now. You can’t be stopped.” There’s a pause as his fingers tickle against the bare skin of her arm, just at the place where the strap of her tank top is, and she lets the motion lull her to the edge of sleep. “Thirty-two times. Goddamn, shorty, you’re somethin’ else.”

She falls asleep with a smile on her face.

---

There’s a little dog in John’s bedroom. It’s tiny and white and fluffy, and the minute it sees Mattie walking in, it runs forward with its tail going so fast she thinks its butt might lift right up. The room smells like piss, and she feels a deep pang of guilt -- not for John’s rug, which has obviously been the dog’s bathroom over the last eighteen hours, but because the dog has been stuck in one room without food or water.

It’s wearing a little collar with its rabies license and a little heart-shaped tag that says its name is Moose, and the search for a shower is derailed as she scoops the dog up and takes it outside.

“You got a dog? What the hell you got a dog for?” Sharky’s eating at the long table by the empty fireplace, but he abandons his food when she appears at the foot of the stairs with the little bundle of excited white fur. “John has a dog?”

“Apparently.” Sharky opens the back door for her and follows her into the yard. Moose doesn’t move a single step away before he starts to pee in the grass, and doesn’t even care when Boomer trots up for an investigative sniff. “Poor little guy was in the bedroom upstairs. Did you see dog food in the kitchen, or anything?”

“Lemme check.” He takes another second to stare down at the dog, then he kind of bumps his elbow into hers before he goes back into the house. 

After Moose finishes peeing, he returns Boomer’s attentions, sniffing the new animal until they’ve both decided the other one can be trusted. Curiosity sated, they start to play, Boomer encouraging Moose to chase him around the yard before returning the favor.

It’s cute, watching them run around like this. It’s so much closer to what she thought adult life would be like than what she has right now that an ache settles into her chest and she has to clear her throat to stop herself from crying.

It doesn’t matter.

Moose cuts to the house mid-run, zooming past Mattie and through the still-open door without stopping. She follows, Boomer ignoring her, and finds Sharky in the kitchen spooning food from a can into a little steel bowl. Moose is at Sharky’s feet, standing on his hind legs, spinning in the occasional excited circle. It’s fucking adorable, and Mattie says as much.

Sharky glances at her over his shoulder, grinning. “Thanks, chica. I do my best.”

His smile grows when she snorts and then starts to laugh.

“We’ll have to take Moose into Fall's End,” she says, watching Sharky bend down to put the bowl on the floor. “We can’t leave him here.”

“Whatever you say,” Sharky says. “You’re the boss.”

---

Being in Fall's End means talking to everyone in Fall's End, and that means chatting with Jerome about the people who need her help around the county. There are even more now than there were before, farmers and just regular citizens who have been holed up this whole time who suddenly need help or have information for her. Some of them are willing to exchange hard-earned supplies for her assistance, and she knows just by the serious expression on Jerome’s face that she can’t say no this time.

The two of them bend over a map of the valley together, tracing out routes with their fingers to see where she should go first and how many people she can help as fast as possible. Sharky leaves them to it as soon as he gets bored, taking Moose with him, and comes back a while later with beers to share and food for all of them.

“Mary May’s gonna watch the dog,” he says, settling sideways on one of the pews so he can stretch his leg out in front of him along the seat. “Didn’t figure it’d be all that useful against the peggies.”

“Thanks, Shark,” she says, smile warm. She turns back to Jerome in time to catch his own soft smile at the exchange. When he catches her eye, he looks down and twists the top off his own drink.

For a while, it’s quiet.

They decide to head up to the Lamb of God episcopal church first, following up on rumors that Grace Armstrong has holed up in it to protect some of the graves from the peggies. Jerome promises to send some resistance members to John’s, thanks Sharky for lunch, and then they go their separate ways.

Sharky keeps up a stream of empty chatter on their way to the other side of the valley, sharing meandering tales from his childhood that are designed to have her laughing as hard as possible. They park a safe distance from the church, around the curve and on the side of the road, but neither of them get out of the car right away.

Mattie has her sleeves rolled up to just below her elbows, the day unseasonably warm, and she stares down at the dark tally marks without speaking for a long moment. When she looks up, Sharky’s already staring at her face, his lips obviously pressed together to keep himself quiet.

“When we go in there, I don’t want you to worry about me. You need to watch out for yourself and stay out of harm’s way, okay? I’ll be fine no matter what -- you won’t.”

“Shor--”

“No.” She holds up one hand to cut off his protests before he can really get started on them, then lowers it and grabs his wrist. “You have to do this. Promise me. I won’t be able to forgive myself if something happens to you.”

He’s frowning hard. “Well, how do you think I’m gonna feel if you die and then stay dead?”

She pushes away the voice inside her that says if only and squeezes his wrist. “I promise you that won’t happen, okay? You believed me last night, you can believe me now.”

She waits until he nods before she releases him and climbs out. Boomer hops out of the backseat and immediately pees on a nearby fence post before dashing off in the direction of the church. Sharky’s muttering something under his breath at a constant rate, but she ignores him because she can’t quite hear all his words -- if he wanted her to know, he’d be talking louder, she’s completely sure.

It only takes a minute of walking before they can hear gunshots, and the pair exchanges a glance before setting out at a jog down the road.

There’s a single peggie truck parked to block traffic, a handful of men ducked behind trees and stone walls closer to the church building, all their fire focused on either one of the headstones or on the church itself. A green laser sight flits over Sharky’s chest, then Mattie’s, then disappears and a woman’s voice comes over the radio. 

“ You the deputy Jerome was telling me about? I could use your help. ” A shot rings out then, and the nearest peggie drops dead. 

Sharky and Mattie exchange another look and split up, heading in opposite directions to keep themselves from being surrounded. It works for them, habits accidentally forged as they burned their way from the Henbane and back into the Valley, and the few peggies trying to get to Grace fall pretty fast without causing any more damage than they had before they were interrupted.

Once the yard falls quiet, Mattie climbs up and scoot-walks across the roof of the church to where Grace is sitting in the bell tower. She ignores Sharky’s laughter from below her, focused instead on getting to Grace and not fucking falling down because breaking her neck because she slipped would be the shittiest way she’s died yet. 

Grace watches her with a half-smile and soft eyes. “You got good timing,” she says, shifting back to make room as Mattie crawls wholly inside the tower and sits with her back against the wall as Grace explains what she’s doing.

The peggies are defiling the graves, specifically of the war heroes like Grace’s dad, in an attempt to demoralize them. It’s a pretty damn good attempt, based on how angry Grace is about it, but Mattie doesn’t know how to respond.

She already feels pretty damn demoralized, graves or no graves.

“I’m a good shot, but I need somebody to watch my back.” Grace cocks her head to the side, ear pointed toward the road. “They’ll be here any second.”

Well. It’s not like Mattie can say no to this.

She nods at Grace, crawl-walks back to the ladder, and slides down. Sharky’s there, a grin on his face, and she punches him in the chest hard enough to make him step back in mock agony.

They don’t have time to tease. Some peggie’s truck squeals to a stop, worn out fuckin’ pads announcing their presence to the people they’re trying to kill, and Mattie and Sharky split up again.

There are more peggies this time, absolutely pouring out of the woods and crawling up the hill. Mattie runs out of rifle ammo and ends up using it to smash one peggie in the head as he tries to light a stick of dynamite stuck in the crack of the crypt.

She lights the dynamite herself and tosses it back to the road. One of their trucks explodes in a deeply satisfying ball of fire that catches two of the closest peggies off guard and throws them to the ground.

Grace snipes them both.

The yard of the church is so chaotic that Mattie doesn’t realize she can’t hear Sharky’s taunting calls until after the last peggie falls to her feet with his blood under her nails.

Even though her blood is rushing in her ears, it’s too quiet. It’s too quiet and she can’t see that green hoodie or the bursts of fire from his flamethrower and she can’t hear his laughter or his comments about how her being spattered in peggie gore is (somehow) hot.

She can’t hear anything but Boomer’s sharp bark from the other side of the cemetery. One quick high-pitched call. Help.

She breaks into a run, hopping over bodies and toppled gravestones in her haste. Cold dread settles in her gut, growing with each footfall, until she knows what she’s going to see before she sees it.

Sharky, on the ground, half-hidden behind one of the larger crypts, slumped to the side. His lips are blue, his face pale, his hoodie soaked through with blood. It’s on the crypt behind him, like he’d been standing against it when he was shot, and when she reaches under his chin to check for a pulse, his eyes stare back at her, empty.

She screams.

Grace is at her side in an instant, checking for a pulse alongside Mattie’s bloody fingers, hissing curses under her breath when she can’t find one either. Mattie pushes the hoodie up over his chest, out of the way, and presses her palms flat against the bullet wounds like she can do anything now to stop the blood.

She told him.

She told him.

“I told him, I told him to be careful, and this is what happened! I should have made him stay behind, why wouldn’t he listen, why--”

“Hey, hey.” Grace’s hands find her face, fingers wrapping around her chin. “You can’t do this here. Help me get him to my truck.”

Mattie nods, blinks the tears from her eyes, and gets her shoulder under Sharky’s arm. Grace helps her lift him, and together they drag his body through the woods around to the back of the church where Grace’s pickup is waiting for them.

They lay him down in the back, and Mattie hesitates by the tailgate as Grace moves to climb in the driver’s seat.

The engine turns over and covers the sharp cry Mattie releases when a bullet hits her shoulder, but it doesn’t cover the sound the tail light makes when it shatters.

White lights surround her and she falls to the ground, vertigo making her retch. She wants to tell Grace to go, to take Sharky back to Fall’s End and leave her here to whatever punishment John has cooked up for her for taking his home and kidnapping his dog, but she can’t make her body obey her.

She loses consciousness just as one of John’s Chosen starts to haul her upright.

[paepsi]

EXO as dumb shit I’ve done, EXPLAINED:

Suho: 

See this picture here? This is me before the moving team. I was so fucking proud of myself for strapping the base of the chair to my roof (it wouldn’t fit through the trunk of me smol hatchback). I thought it was funny that it kinda looked like a kip-pah and asked my friend to take a pic for me here (see my lil peace sign next to my face? im v happy of my jew car). Little did I know that after driving to my new apartment with the whole moving team from IKEA unloading shit from the truck, I would be stuck in the fucking car. I didn't have a knife or scissors to cut the strings and I didn't want to make my dumb assery to be noticed; so instead of asking for help... I climbed out the front window and almost fell flat on my ass. When I stood up and turned around, the whole moving team was just standing there looking at me. The assholes knew I was stuck and let me suffer.

Kris & Kai:

so these moments both happened in the same night. I went to a house warming party for my friend and I didn't know what to bring as a gift, so I just bought two big bags of Hawaiian bread. Now throughout the night, the more I drink, the more impulsive I get. 

I started putting the bread on people's shoulders, slowly piling them up until they noticed. Everyone was pretty wasted so there was no surprise when I had a stack of 4 1/2 buns (I ate half) on my friends shoulder. Anyways- fast forward into the night, I'm craving sweets, so I walk into my friends kitchen and find a jar of cookies. At the time I thought it was a brilliant idea to just put the Hawaiian bread in there so the kitchen looked full; a fair exchange, if you will. At least that's what I thought... I found pictures from the party and it turns out I just ended up putting in a half eaten bun sjzjsj

Fast forward into the morning of the next day, I’m hungover and I wake up wearing mismatching socks (one is mine, the other I have no idea). 

I needed to get home because I had work later that day, so I hop into my car and start driving home. The whole time there was this annoying beeping sound that I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. I had such a bad headache that I pulled over to see what the fuck was wrong. I got out of my car, checked the wheels, checked the under the hood, then hopped back inside. I was so frustrated that I banged my head on the steering wheel and just rested my eyes for a sec. When I opened them to look straight ahead at my dashboard, the brake light was glowing bright red. I cried.

Chanyeol: 

One summer evening, I was hanging with my sister and her friends around a campfire. We were roasting marshmallows, drinking, having a good time etc. Eventually later into the night we started getting bored and one of my sister’s friends suggested playing hot potato with the coals from the fire. We’re all game like FUCK YEAH LETS DO THIS. Then we start tossing it around and realize that it’s way too fucking hot, so instead of tossing it’s just everyone spiking the coal to the next person. FYI, I have terrible hand eye coordination and I wasn’t wearing my glasses that night. Every single time the coal was spiked my way it would miss my hand and fly straight into my hair. The next day I woke up, looked in the mirror, skipped breakfast and headed straight to the salon. still looked cute or w/e so I ain’t mad

Kyungsoo: 

Ahhhh, this one is actually pretty personal and happened not too long ago! My mom finally left this dirt bag she’d been married to for the past 16 years. When I say dirt bag, I mean a manipulative, abusive piece of shit. My mom was so tired during her session with the mediator for when they were deciding who was getting what; she took 30-45 minutes to talk alone with them and he took 3 fucking hours putting on this sick sob story. The mediator was so done with him too that they just let him do whatever he wanted. That meant he had the “right” to pick and choose what belonged to him in our apartment. The fucker took EVERYTHING. He took the furniture, the bedroom sets, all the electronics, the spices- HE DOESN’T EVEN COOK. However, a week before then, I bought a huge bottle of vanilla. I needed it to make edible cookie dough, which I was doing everyday out of stress. The day before he finally moved out, I came home from work to see everything wrapped/packed up. I started to get worked up and went to the kitchen to make my cookie dough. When I opened the cabinet to get my vanilla and saw it completely empty, I lost it. I literally screamed and started tearing up all the boxes, finding more shit that belonged to me and stopped when I finally found my vanilla. I went back to the kitchen, happily made my cookie dough and kicked back on "his” couch with my dirty shoes on. Later that night, the asshole came home and screamed at me. I shut him up tho when I told him I’d suffocate him with a pillow in his sleep if he dared to touch me or any of my things ever again. He didn’t stay in the apartment that night lol

Baekhyun:

I think this one might be my favorite story. It all started when a package from my mom in the mail never showed up even though the UPS tracking said it had already arrived on my doorstep. I assumed in meant the package was stolen and got really bummed about it since it had some essential items in there. My roommates felt bad and decided to cheer me up by throwing a house party (woohoo! cue the alcohol!). It started at like 3pm and went on all the way until 4 am the next day. Somewhere within that time frame while it was still light outside, slightly tipsy, I found a ladder on the side of the house and had a strong urge to follow it up to the top; and who am I to deny every desire that comes across my pea sized brain. I was half-way up to the roof when one of my roommates spotted me (let’s call him Big Ned; there were two guys named Ned in our house so we just called them Big Ned and Little Ned; Big Ned is like 6′3�� and Little Ned is like 5′4″). Big Ned started yelling at me to get down and I told him I couldn’t because it was my destiny to reach the top. He decided that there was no use arguing with me and ended up following me to the roof (even though he’s afraid of heights; bless his BFG heart). He’s kinda hard to miss, so when he started making his way up to the roof with me, it grabbed a lot of attention. Some joined us. Meanwhile, I decided to walk around and look into my neighbors yards. I saw a mess of papers in one of the alleys between our houses and joked “lmao that’d be funny if that was my package”. We laughed for a bit then looked a little closer until we realized oh fuck that’s my package. My body moved on it’s own and just kinda scrambled across the roof trying to figure out the fastest and least painful way to get off the roof. Thank the stars for Big Ben holding me back by the collar of my shirt and preventing me from jumping down onto the neighbors fence. Little Ben ended up running over and jumping the fence to get it for me. We still don’t know how it got there.

Tao:

In middle school, I had to go on this field trip to some ranch out in the countryside of Texas. I remember we were all huddled into a barn with a big stage in the back. The teachers grabbed a mic and got on stage to talk about who knows what. Idk I wasn’t paying attention, talking to my friend, in my own world. When the mics go off, everyone starts chattering. At that moment in time, I was extremely preoccupied with my shoelaces when I got a tap on my shoulder from my homeroom teacher. I think she was mad at me for not listening and told me to head up to the stage along with a few other students making their way over. Being in front of others makes me nervous, but when the teachers put a bib around my neck before I got on stage, I was too confused to think of anything else. When another teacher started handing out baby bottles filled with Gatorade to each student on stage, I had to stop them to ask what was going on. And what do ya know, I’m in a baby bottle drinking contest. Before I had time to ask any more questions, they were already counting down to start. Now listen, I’m not the type of person to back down from a challenge so ofc you know I’m gonna suck the soul out of this bich. The reason I can say this confidently is because up until I was 11 years old, I always drank out of baby bottles when I got home from school. I just really liked the feeling?? For me, nothing beat chilling on the couch, watching Teen Titans and drinking fresh cold orange juice from a baby bottle on a hot summer day. Idk but I guess it came in handy since I finished a 24oz bottle under 35 seconds. The rest of the kids weren’t even close to half way through. There’s a picture of me at the back of my school year book holding up the baby bottle like a trophy.

Sehun:

Remember my sisters friends from the campfire? Well I spent a good long summer hanging with her friend group and ended up getting kinda close to this one of the guys (let’s call him Jake). I have a really broad range of music taste and I guess he digged that so we talked a lot about music together. By the end of the summer, Jake threw a party at his house and invited me over. Ngl I wanted some dick so ofc I’m gonna go all out and break out my hot leather Madonna outfit. I head out with my sis and the house is packed by the time we get there. The whole time we’re pretty much just hanging out, drinking and dancing the night away. Some time passed 1 am (I think), I’m sorta outside making out with Jake on the side of his house. It’s getting really hot and heavy. When we finally broke apart for air, he told me he though he was in love with me. I’m screaming internally, panicking and I don’t know what to do. I could tell from way before that he really liked me, but I didn’t think it was to that extent. It doesn’t help exactly that I don’t feel the same way for him. Don’t get me wrong! He was really hot and sweet, but I just couldn’t see myself with him. So what did I tell him? Nothing. My dumb ass was in such a panic that all I could think of was that I needed to run. I did. I ran back into the house, out the front porch, spotted his skateboard and took off. I didn’t really know where I was or where I was going but somehow I ended up at the train station and eventually found my way back home.

Xiumin:

On my 21st birthday, my roommates took me out to a really nice, 5 star restaurant in the city we lived. They're buying me all the drinks I want cause heck I'm finally legal! Now, I think y'all can see a pattern of what happens when I drink. So when Big Ned got a glass of scotch and I had just finished off my last sip of wine, I wanted some too. I asked him to share, using "it's my birthday" to get my way. Ever the gentleman, Big Ben pours half his glass into my wine glass and keeps his raised for a cheers. The whole group joins in and with a shout of Mozeltov, I slam the wine glass down on the table and toss it back. It wasn't until I finished the last drop and tried to set my glass back on the table that I realized I snapped the stem in half. No one spoke, except for Little Ned, softly, "did you... did that really just happen?" Yeah. Yeah it did. Thankfully the restaurant agreed to keep the broken glass off the bill as long as I left the restaurant immediately.

Chen:

On a Saturday night, I met up with a good friend of mine that I hadn’t seen in months. We bought some snacks and drinks then drove to a marina near my apartment (new place in California). The whole night we spent catching up and throwing rocks in the water. I was still a little tipsy when it was time to go home and my friend ended up driving me back. On the way back, I opened a bag and snacked on some pizza flavored goldfish. I was about a fourth of the way through the bag when I decided I didn’t like it anymore and started tossing them out the window. We pull up to a stop light and my friend is trying to make me stop by rolling up the window, but I stick my leg out before he could close it. Next he tries to compromise and said if I wasn’t going to eat the goldfish, I should just put the bag down and remove my leg from the window. My tipsy ass told him no, I was handing out free food. I turned to look at the car next to me, asked (yelled) if they wanted any goldfish and held out the bag to them. I guess the dude thought it was funny and was just like “yeah sure why not, lifes too short to not eat goldfish from a stranger at a stoplight” alksdjflskdj 

Lay:

When I was about 6 years old, I lived out in the suburbs of Fulshear, Texas. The community is really tiny and everyone knew each other. One time, I was playing hide and seek with my siblings, and decided to hide under my moms bed. While I was waiting for my brother to come find me, I fell asleep. A couple hours later I wake up and it’s dark out. The house is empty. I’m calling out to see if anyone is home, checking all the rooms. I thought maybe everyone decided to tag me “it” since I passed out. After a while of not finding anyone, the phone rings and I pick up. It’s my mom sounding out of breath calling to see if anyone found me and took me back to my house. Turns out I had actually been knocked out for 6 hours. Not being able to find me during hide and seek for 2 hrs, my siblings went to get my mom who also started looking for me. After another hour and no luck, she called our neighbors across the street to see if I went over to play with their kids. Ofc they said no and said they would call some other people in the neighborhood to find out if they'd seen me. A few hours later, the whole neighborhood was out looking for me. Meanwhile I'm at home chilling on the couch watching Teletubbies and eating goldfish (the original babey).

Luhan:

My dad took me and my siblings to the beach almost every summer in elementary school. We would always stay at this Holiday Inn right across the street from the sands. At night, we would go “hunting” for crabs with a flashlight and a fishnet. But on some nights when my dad was too tired to go out, my siblings and I would hang in the kids room at the hotel. We were fooling around and just being kids. Then we found a big case filled with tubes of paint. I was excited to do some finger painting but before I could reach for a tube, my brother stopped me to say he had an idea. He dared us lay down our sheets of paper and paint them by jumping on the tubes. Being the youngest of four, I thought this was a brilliant idea and immediately got to work. Set my paper down and lined up the colors I wanted to use. I jumped.... Only a spec of paint made it onto the paper... The rest beautifully decorated the off-white walls of the kids room. We all just froze because oh my stars we’re gonna be in so much trouble. Turning to each other, we made a very strong pinky promise to not tell a soul what happened. The next day when we returned to the kids room, the case was gone, faded splotches of green and purple remained on the walls, and a big paper taped above reading “NO PAINTING ALLOWED”.

Fun fact: my eldest sister used to write about my adventures for her creative essay homework’s in middle school.

[sienna-walsh]

[back-and-totheleft]

After the Fall

In Oliver Stone’s new film, World Trade Center, a rescue worker stands atop a pile of steaming rubble, planning his descent into the inferno below. “I need a medic up here,” he yells. “Anybody a medic?”

“I used to be a medic,” comes a voice from the darkness.

A tiny figure scrambles up the base of the hill like a large bug. As he passes into the light, we see that it’s Frank Whaley, an actor who got his start with appearances in Stone’s Born on the Fourth of July, The Doors and JFK.

“My license lapsed,” the figure says. “I had a few bad years. But I’m good.”

Such is the legacy of Stone — a towering figure in modern film who always seems to be wrangling his own personal demons — that it is almost impossible not to read a scene like that autobiographically. A three-time Oscar winner as both writer (Midnight Express) and director (Platoon and Born on the Fourth of July), Stone has spent much of the past dozen years surrounded by controversy or chaos: His satirical tabloid blitzkrieg Natural Born Killers caused novelist John Grisham to accuse him of engendering real-life murders. Nixon, his oddly sympathetic portrait of the ex-president, eluded liberals and conservatives alike. The jumpy, kinetic editing style he employed in the day-for-noir U Turn and the pro-football pageant Any Given Sunday inspired longtime Stone critic Elvis Mitchell to label the latter “the world’s first ADD epic.”

Then the first of two HBO documentaries (Comandante) on Fidel Castro was shelved for being too sympathetic, while a subsequent portrait of Yasser Arafat (Persona Non Grata) saw Stone’s crew fleeing Ramallah four hours before the Israeli army attacked the Palestinian leader’s compound. (A third film, expected to profile either Kim Jong-Il or Saddam Hussein, was canceled.) He has been arrested twice — in 1999 and 2005 — for DUI and possession of marijuana, respectively. During an appearance at HBO’s “Making Movies That Matter” panel at Lincoln Center in October 2001, he allegedly made inflammatory remarks regarding the September 11 attacks, earning him scorn and ridicule in The New Yorker and elsewhere. Most painfully, when Stone, in 2004, finally realized his 20-year obsession to make Alexander, a sweeping history of Alexander the Great filmed on three continents, the film failed to find a domestic audience.

Now comes World Trade Center, a delicate, contained and extremely powerful evocation of our 2001 national trauma, starring Nicolas Cage and Michael Peña as John McLoughlin and Will Jimeno, New York City Port Authority cops who were miraculously excavated from beneath the glowing rubble of Building No. 7. In an odd way, it brings Stone’s career full circle: His first student film, Last Year in Viet Nam, made at NYU in 1970 (for film professor Martin Scorsese), opens with a panorama of southern Manhattan and what would have been the Twin Towers, except that they weren’t completed until January 1972. But in another respect, World Trade Center may be Stone’s most subversive film yet — a rousing, populist, patriotic adventure story that kicks the legs out from under the right-wing criticism marshaled against him. It could prove the ultimate irony that the bête noire of American conservatives — the man who profiled right-wing death squads in Salvador, My Lai–like atrocities in Platoon, hostile takeovers in Wall Street, the anti-war movement in Born on the Fourth of July and, most notably, the fecund proliferation of Kennedy-assassination conspiracy theories in JFK — may find his most enthusiastic audience among the very partisans who have heretofore decried his lifetime of work. As no less a cultural observer than Mel Gibson said of Stone in the 1997 thriller Conspiracy Theory, “He’s a disinformation junkie for them. The fact that he’s still alive says it all. He probably should be dead, but he’s not.”

In person, Stone has an infectious laugh, seems genuinely engaged and takes the full measure of my questions before answering, at which point his ideas often come so fast they seem to be skipping across the surface of the conversation. He’s also the most fun kind of intellectual, in that he perpetually appears to be trying to figure himself out. Briefly a classmate of George W. Bush’s at Yale, he seems — at least on the evidence of our wide-ranging, three-hour discussion — to have absorbed a good deal more of its freshman syllabus. We spoke at his West L.A. editing suite, where he is currently preparing a three-hour, 45-minute DVD-only “road show” version of Alexander, complete with intermission.

L.A. WEEKLY: Where were you on the morning of September 11, 2001?

OLIVER STONE: L.A. Asleep. My wife put the TV on.

And what did you think was happening?

It was sensational. It was exciting. It was horrifying. It reminded me in its barbarity and ferocity of the French Revolution — the tumbrels, heads falling. And I had feelings of anger in me, and vengeance. I had a fight with my son, actually, because he was much more objective about it: “How do you know? Don’t assume anything. You’re acting like the mob.” But there were other feelings as well. You know, I realize I’m an older person; I’ve seen Vietnam and a lot of death and shit. Oklahoma City was horrible. JFK’s assassination. Watergate. The 2000 election. We’ve been through our times of shit in this country, so this was another version.

World Trade Centeris very powerful — emotionally powerful. I had a very visceral reaction to it.I think it’s obviously the film, but it’s also more than the film — it’s the fact that the subject matter is so loaded. If you make a film about fire jumpers, and a fire jumper comes to see it, he’ll say, “Well, you got this part right, you got this part wrong.’?” With this film, we’re all fire jumpers. It’s also very different from a lot of your other films — it’s gentle and contained and quiet. I’m wondering if you had to devise a different approach because the subject matter was so delicate.

I just want to say first that the way I look at myself — it’s not necessarily in the result — but with every film, I really have made an effort to make each one an island unto itself in this little sea that we go around in our ships. And every island has been a destination, a stop for a period of time. I’ve tried to take a different style for every film, because it’s the story that comes first, and the subject dictates the style. Even with something like Natural Born Killers, which seems very stylistic and eccentric, it’s still the content that I think is valid and important. With this film, certain things presented themselves: Obviously, the sensitivities of everyone involved, but ultimately that’s the sky around the project. With JFK, for instance, there were his children to think of, Jackie was still alive, Teddy Kennedy. Blowing his head off in Dealey Plaza didn’t go down well with them either. But there was a bigger story to tell.

Here we were limited by movement, so we worked out a style by which, methodically, the film would go in and out of light: Light would fight with the dark, or rather, light would try to make it up to the dark. Claustrophobia is an issue with a film like this. I did Talk Radio, so I know that feeling of being on one set the whole time. Also, Born on the Fourth of July: That was a very contained movie, in a way, because we had a young man in a wheelchair in the second half, where there’s very little movement. When I read this script, I said, “How do we make this movie watchable? How do we make the tension manageable for a mainstream audience?”

It may surprise a lot of people that you’re not using a lot of shock cuts, moving around inside the frame — what you’ve termed your “cubist” style.

Well, where can you move in a hole? A hole is limited. Finding the right point of view in the hole is crucial.

You once said about Platoon?, “I felt like if I didn’t do it now, I’m going to forget.” We’re five years out from 9/11 now, and there is much public hand-wringing about whether it’s too soon yet to deal with this subject matter.

I think it’s a bogus question. The consequences of that day are far worse today. More people have died since then because of the war on terror. There’s more war, there’s more fear, and there is constitutional breakdown left and right. Have the good sense to go to the psychiatrist quickly. If you’ve been raped, talk to somebody about what that day itself was like before you build up all this armor.

You pursued this film, correct?

Yes. Petitioned. My agent, Bryan Lourd, a man of taste, said to me, “Look, I read this script two weeks ago — it stays with me, it’s emotional. I don’t know if it will make a dime, I don’t know if I can get it financed, but just read it.” So I read it, and I said, “My God, I never thought of this — to do 2001 this way.” I knew [World Trade Center producers] Michael Shamberg and Stacy Sher. But no one would make it; Universal dropped it at the [proposed] budget. I was doing other things, I wasn’t stopping my life. But then it came back around. Paramount was just coming into being [under new management]. We were very lucky, because that new studio energy was coming in, and they wanted to make it so badly that it happened right away.

And did you talk with the producers about politics — if there would be a political viewpoint that informed the story?

There was no room for it, because John McLoughlin and Will Jimeno were not interested in politics, per se. They don’t talk about politics like you and I do. Their lives are not determined by it; they live according to what is given them. So it never entered into the equation. I loved the script [by Andrea Berloff] as it was. I loved the inspiration of the story. So I vowed to stay inside those parameters.

New York is probably the most liberal city in America, and yet the 9/11 attack has been so politicized, its imagery considered so proprietary, that right-wing skepticism has been mounting steadily against you since this project was announced. A story in The New York Times said the film is being strategically marketed to right-wing opinion leaders using the PR firm that advised the Swift Boat Veterans group. It even quoted the conservative National Review Web site as saying, “God Bless Oliver Stone.”

I knew [the studio] was doing grassroots marketing to everybody — Hispanics, cops, firemen, teachers, church groups. I didn’t know that they had hired a specific firm; I found out that day. I’m pleased they like it, because it goes beyond politics.

Could you foresee a left-wing backlash against the film?

If people on the right are responding with their hearts, I’m all for it. But if they’re making it into a political statement, it’s wrong. Those on the left might say, “Oh, this is a simplified context, and these are simplistic working-class values. You’re not showing a wider political context.” Or secondly, that we’re sentimentalizing the event — which would be unfair, because I think there’s a lot of grit there. But this is a populist film. We’ve said that from the beginning. In our hearts, it was a Frank Capra type of movie. And he didn’t necessarily get great notices.

In an odd way, I was reminded of Preston Sturges Hail the Conquering Hero — a wartime comedy that pokes fun at the notion of patriotism and, by extension, patriotic movies but which, by the end, almost subversively, fills you with this patriotic fervor. I’m wondering if you see this as your “Nixon in China” moment: Only the director of Nixon and JFK could get away with a film where the most heroic character is an ex-Marine who consults with his pastor before putting himself in harm’s way.

That character, Dave Karnes, is an unlikely hero. He goes to church — that’s a documented thing; he checks with his pastor in a born-again church before he goes down to Manhattan. He evaded the authorities. Get it done; that’s a Marine thing. I think you can argue that the Marine is an ambivalent character, because at the end of the movie, this sense of vengeance is what fuels the wrong war in Iraq.

But for him it’s the right war.

For him it’s the right war. That’s correct. I think if you really look at JFK or at Nixon, which are the two political films I did uncensored in my career — which is amazing unto itself — JFK is neither right nor left, and was attacked equally by the left, who did not like the Kennedy figure of 1963. It was done in the centrist tradition of American dissent: It questioned government and the authority of government. So I was taken aback that the right made such a big issue out of it. I suppose, because they were in office [when the film came out]. But they had never done that historically. They would have been on the side of the investigation; [Barry] Goldwater may well have been. JFK was not a bunch of fantasies strung together. It involved an enormous amount of research — as much as World Trade Center, if not more.

You could make the same argument about Nixon. You took the dominant political figure in our lifetime and gave him the Shakespearean treatment his life cried out for.

It was a psychological point of view. The right wing thought it was going to be a hatchet job; instead, it made him a human being. Unfortunately, in my career, I have spoken out between films, and that’s what’s gotten confused with the films themselves. I think the focus has been lost. Somewhere along the line, I guess, I said, “Look: I’m a filmmaker, but I’m also John Q. Citizen, and things piss me off. I have a right to say, if people ask me and they’re interested, what I fucking think.” And that’s the line I’ve always gotten in trouble with. It’s always between the films, if you look at the statements I’ve made. There’s nothing in the films themselves, as far as I know, that’s really offensive politically.

How much of the criticism against you do you think is organized for partisan political gain?

I’ve always wondered that — especially in the ’90s, after the JFK situation. You have to wonder: Will it come out one day in a government file? You hear about those programs from the ’50s and the ’60s. I was so grateful that Michael Moore came along. He helped me.

He seems to enjoy it. Maybe it’s the counterpart to how the left treats Charlton Heston.

Charlton Heston once said in an interview, “People like Oliver Stone would never hire me in the new Hollywood.” And I went out of my way on Any Given Sunday to hire him. I loved him. I said, “Forget politics, I love your character.” Political reputation pigeonholes you, and in a society that’s very busy, it’s an easy way to get rid of having to think too much about people and what they’re saying. I’m a dramatist; I’m a humanist. I protest.

There’s one line in World Trade Center — I think we hear it on a TV monitor in an office at the Port Authority — where the announcer says, “. . . the shock of the explosion that was coincidental with the two towers coming down,” and then you move on to something else. Was the suggestion that an unexplained explosion might have accompanied the towers’ demise the one seed of doubt you intentionally planted in an otherwise apolitical movie?

Well, I think that all reality is questionable, as you know. Frankly, I’m not an expert on that at all. And I haven’t pursued it, because I think the consequences of where we are now are far worse. But even if there was a conspiracy, it wouldn’t change where we are now. We’re into another place, where there’s more war, more terror, more bankruptcy, more debt, above all more constitutional breakdown and more fear than ever before. That’s very serious. And we’re on the edge of possibly something bigger and very dangerous. Richard Clarke’s book [Against All Enemies: Inside America’s War on Terror], at least, is about a true conspiracy that we know existed, of a small group who took over the government and did it their way — manipulated, created the war. It’s 30 or 40 people, right?

Sy Hersh says it’s 11 guys.

It was a conspiracy, and it was basically at the top. It’s Cheney and Rumsfeld influencing Bush. Cheney and Rumsfeld go back to the Ford administration, and when they got their way, they kicked butt. That’s a great story. But that’s not even all of it. When you’ve got a guy like Representative Pete Hoekstra from Michigan, who was a friend of the Bush administration — who had approved of the Patriot Act, the eavesdropping, the taxes, the bank records, all of it — saying in the press that there’s something worse that he’s pissed off about, because they hadn’t consulted him. Something worse? I mean, all the cards are not on the table, right? This is a big story. And we’re living it. How can you write about it? We’re fucking rocking in the boat. It’s like trying to write a great war novel when you might be going into World War II.

Were you at Yale the same time Bush was?

I was in the same class, yeah. I don’t remember him. I was never in a fraternity. I went twice — I dropped out one year and then went back for half of a second year and dropped out.

But at one point Bush requested to meet you, didn’t he?

Yeah, I met him. It was a political breakfast speech here in California at a club, the Republican right wing. They invited me — they’ve always had fun with me, I don’t know why — and it was a big hotel room and a speech about tough love and justice in Texas. He was governor then, around ’98 or so. I swear, I knew in that room on that day that he was going to be president. There was just no question. He had that confidence, and they adored him. There was an organized love for him. He asked for me to come up to the podium and we had a one-on-one. I was in the Bush spotlight — that thing where he stares at you and he gets to know you a little bit.

Assigns you a nickname.

There was one funny line. He knew I’d been in Vietnam. Actually, I didn’t know he’d been at Yale. He told me he’d been in my class; it was a surprise to me. But then he said he’d had a buddy who had been to Vietnam who’d been killed. “Buddy,” he said. It was funny — it was on his mind, he raised it. And it was the way he looked at me: I just felt like, boy, I bet you he’d rather his buddy had come home than me. But he was very friendly, very charming — a very sociable man.

Have you ever thought about going into politics — running for office? Would you consider doing that in a later part of your life?

Not seriously, no.

Orson Welles wrote a weekly political newspaper column during WWII — he was friends with FDR through Sumner Welles, a distant relative of his and a presidential adviser, and at one point he considered running for the Senate from California or his native Wisconsin.

Politics is about raising money and being popular and shaking a lot of hands and spending a lot of time with people. Those are not my strengths. It would be exhausting and would completely destroy my ability to do what I do.

You were pro-Vietnam before you enlisted in the infantry, right? You were fairly conservative?

Yes.

So we could say that you spent the entire 1960s across the political divide from most of what you’ve now come to stand for?

My story is complicated. I did write a novel about being 19 called A Child’s Night Dream. My parents divorced when I was 14, and being the only child, there was no family to go back to. Basically, going to Vietnam was really throwing myself to the wolves. It was a form of rebellion and suicide.

I’ve read a quote to the effect of “I felt like I had to atone for the act of imagination.” Was it actually the failure of the novel that sent you over the edge?

After I left Yale the second time and finished the novel — I was writing the novel instead of going to class, and that’s why I flunked out — my father was supporting me, and that’s an impossible situation: 19 years old, your father is furious at you for the tuition that he’s lost, and you’re living in his apartment trying to finish a novel. It’s like Jack Kerouac moving back home with his mother. But I really believed in it: I was insane with passion. It was the only thing I had. I had no woman friends in my life. I had nothing to support me beyond that. And when that failed, I went into the Army with the idea of “Let God sort it out, whoever I am.” It’s egregious to think that you can be on the level of Mailer or any of your heroes — Hemingway, or Joyce; I was into Joyce heavily at the time.

Part of the fun of watching someone like you working without a net, from a distance, is charting the rises and falls of your career. And sometimes there are films that don’t hit right, that suffer because of the moment or the context — the sky around it, as you put it. I’m thinking specifically of Nixon, which was a commercial failure, but seems to get more sophisticated every time I see it. Or, more recently, Alexander.

I’ve had three big setbacks, in terms of being completely dismissed: Heaven and Earth, Nixon — by many people, at least — and Alexander. On Alexander, it was just devastating, because in America and England, the numbers were so tough. It wasn’t just that people didn’t like it. It was ridiculed. It was destructive criticism. Meanwhile, in the rest of the world we were connecting, we were among the top 20 films of that year in the foreign market. We did better than four of the five Oscar nominees abroad. It was well respected.

Why didn’t Alexander connect? Do we agree that it didn’t connect with English-speaking audiences?

I like the director’s cut better than the first version, because I had more time to prepare it. And the structure is different. It wasn’t because of the homosexuality — that’s a red herring. The mother’s back story and father’s back story, which are really essential, don’t come in until later. We’re doing a third, expanded version now — we’re going all out. This is not for theatrical; it’s for the people who love the film who want to see more of it. It’s the Cecil B. De Mille treatment — three hours and 45 minutes. What I’m doing is going back and showing the whole thing in its sumptuousness, really going with the concept that it had to be an old-fashioned movie, with an intermission, like a road show. Be a showman, instead of trying to be a responsible filmmaker. Go all out on this one. This is my Apocalypse Now, my De Mille epic. [The first time] I was trying to step up to the plate, so to speak. I should have pulled it back, taken an extra year like Marty did with Gangs of New York. But it would have cost a lot of money.

In Oliver Stone’s America, the documentary included with the DVD box set of your films, you say, “I’ve always admired Alexander because of the momentum and the speed with which he traveled and conquered. In my small metaphoric way, I would say the countries were films, and I moved through them like him . . . he’s striking everywhere. I think it was great. We had a great run. But it’s definitely a new phase.” Is Alexander the figure you most closely identify with?

I am a Method director to a certain degree. I do become part of what I shoot. And I think with Alexander, the perception is of hubris, certainly — “Alexander the Great? Who the fuck is he? He thinks he’s Alexander.” I could see that coming. But I always knew who Oliver Stone was. I never lost track of that. And I made the film humbly, in 94 fucking days on three continents. I ran the crew like I always run the crew. Nothing changed in my habits. I walked in the deserts, we shot in a sandstorm once, and it was the same old Oliver who did Salvador. Hubris is taking 110 days on some stupid comedy. That’s an insult to filmmaking the way I was raised. I’m sticking to NYU principles, and I still do to this day. Movies are a tradition; we didn’t invent it — we take it from somebody else and pass it on.

But with Alexander, you faced a challenge like you’ve never faced before, because no matter how bruising the attacks on JFK and Nixon, your core audience was always still with you. For whatever reason, Alexander failed to connect with an audience.

Yeah. In America.

In America. I don't wish to judge it; this is an empirical observation.

No, it didn't connect. Alexander is the high point of my life, and it always will be. I’m not asking for universal love on that; it’s just impossible. It’s not paced to the American style, nor is he a conventional hero. He’s filled with doubts. But Alexander is a beautiful story, and I think I did him well. I mean, I wouldn’t have released it [otherwise]. But I can’t give up; I would never give up. I would be all wrong in my assessments of myself as I work. You have to hear your own self, follow your own drama, or whatever Thoreau said long ago at Walden Pond. [“Follow your genius closely enough, and it will not fail to show you a fresh prospect every hour.”] Alexander was a huge setback for me, and it certainly hurt me in this business. But you have to understand that people have been saying bad things about me for years. I don’t listen; I have to try to keep going.

I don’t want to make specious connections, but you’ve had several high-profile drug arrests in the last few years. Before that, you were making supernihilist films in an edgy, frenetic style. I'm wondering if these are all moving parts of the same phenomenon.

I’ve smoked dope and drunk alcohol most of my life, okay? Getting pulled over and arrested is a fault, it’s a mistake — a wake-up call. I did get busted a couple of times. One was at a roadblock, so it’s not like I was endangering anybody’s life. The other time, I got pulled over by a civilian cop; I was actually busted for driving too slow. And when the tests came back, I was below the intoxication level. Nobody knows that, because it never got published that way. I should get a chauffeur is what I fucking should do. [Laughs.]

But nobody cares if you smoke pot. They care if it affects the work, if it’s part of a larger problem.

Okay, but I don’t feel bad. I got heavier, physically, at certain points, and I think that gives the appearance of degradation, like Jim Morrison. But I did have a pre-diabetic condition through my mother, and I was on too much sugar. Any Given Sunday, I love that movie, but it was more effort than you think — it was like a three-ring circus, to make five football games in five stadiums work. It took so much energy. There were some problems with the crew on that film. So by the end of that movie, my doctor said I was too stressed, and at my age it was dangerous. There were some issues of medications and stuff, no question about it. But sports people love that movie. With Alexander, there’s a fan site where there are people who have seen it 50 times. They go to the sites in Macedon. They love the romanticism of it. So it’s confusing to me. I’ve tried every fucking time to get it right, even if I haven’t been in my best physical shape. I will get it right. Not everyone is going to agree with me, but I’m going to get it right.

With World Trade Center, it's your first time to deal with studio financing in a decade; you look better, healthier. Has your life changed? Is this a new start?

Your story is a journalistic narrative, and it’s a good one, about Oliver coming back after Alexander, and how there’s a change in his life. And I’ve somewhat agreed with it, but I’ve also pointed out that my methods have stayed the same. But it is about your storyline, in a way — about life. If you go to film school, and you think about your career traditionally, you arc up, in the sense that your budgets get bigger, the stars, whatever. There’s a nice arc to a man’s life. You make your better films later — it’s horrible if you’re Orson Welles, if you make your best film first. And Alexander was a chance to do something on another level entirely. So I reached a peak of ambition. And the ambition was perhaps not matched by my execution, although there are points in the execution that do match the ambition, I think. So then it died a metaphoric death. Point of view died with it, as it died when Heaven and Earth came out. That [movie] was a very sensitive side of myself that I loved — it was tender, and the woman was tender. And it was ridiculed and killed, and part of me, you know . . . those feelings were hurt and eradicated for a while. Same thing with Nixon. You want to get rid of the person after you finish. You want to go back to being who you are, but you’re no longer the same person, because your journey has changed.

And part of me did die [with Alexander] — that part that was enamored of “my very important storyline,” end of quote. Me being the storyline. I played it out. I did all my biographical figures. I have no need to be John or Will. I had a need to be Ron Kovic. I had a need to be Alexander. I had a need to be Nixon and Morrison and Garrison. That’s the change. So now I can be myself, maybe. I can be more authentic to myself. I think there was an attraction to go from the past into the contemporary world in its most hellish moment. It’s like I dropped out and I couldn’t get back in, until by going back to 2001, I could come back into this era. I feel liberated, in the sense that, not that it would be next, but I feel I could do a movie about those next five years. Not that I think it’s complete yet — I think there’s a lot going on that we don’t know about in the government. But I think there’s something in the air. I smell it, and I feel fresh again, having done something — my new, 24-hour, humble microcosm of that day. Wherever I go with World Trade Center, it’s going to spin off to wherever I go next.

-Paul Cullum, “After the Fall,” LA Weekly, Aug 9 2006 [x]

[lubdubsworld]

Tumblr Prompt ( Min yoongi * OC)

arranged marriage angst. okay, so Yoongi comes back by popular demand. let’s watch him struggle to win her back. okay... lights camera, action.

....Read the rest of the stuff here : 

Part 1         Part 2         Part 3       part 4

~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 5/6

“This is one of the first pieces i designed. it’s called ,  Aeturnum. which is the Latin word for eternal. The necklace is made of sterling silver, something that has long been associated with magic . The stone used here is a ‘ Cat’s eye foiled cabochon. It looks like its holds the galaxies in it, doesn’t it? And it also looks so warm and full of love? and i thought, if anything is eternal, it’s the universe we live in. And the love that we fill it with...” 

I finished nervously , nodding at the applause. So far the room, filled with about 50 to 60 of the leading antique jewelry collectors in the country had been silent. they had reacted positively to most of the pieces. And I knew that this last one would be the most important. 

it would also be the most difficult . 

i took a deep breath. 

“People talk about recovery often. there are so many books describing how you can build yourself up. But no one talks about the fall. Because no one wants to relive it. “

I swallowed, taking a small sip of the water on the table. 

“A year ago, I thought i  lost something very.. valuable to me. i spent weeks trying to get it back. i wanted to go back in time and redo everything till i had that... thing again.  But funnily, what i never realized was that it had never been mine to lose.” 

I carefully shifted around, pulling the lever that would make the lots fall in place, revealing the extravagant necklace in lapis blue. The colors flashed bright in the dim lighting and i felt my heart lurch, as i remembered the tears i’d spilled, the broken syllables of his name just stuttering out without my permission as I slaved over that perfect cut. 

“this one is called fulgur which is latin for lightning. it describes the moment you lay your eyes on that special someone. it’s like you’ve been hit by a flash of lightning, something that has changed you forever. No matter how things work out, you’re no longer the person you were before you saw him/her. you’re changed , forever. it’s aquamarine, lapis lazuli and sapphire. ” 

I hesitated before grabbing the second lever. 

“This one is called  mirage. Which we all know is nothing but an illusion. it’s when you see things that don’t exist. You see meaning in meaningless touches and you convince yourself that what you’re seeing and feeling is real. when in fact it isn’t. when in fact, you aren’t really as important as you think you are. this stone is called the margarita stone. There’s a rhinestone pin set in the center with rose cut diamonds all around.  “ 

I took another look around the room before composing myself. why was this so damn difficult. 

“the third one is called error, which is latin for delusion. it’s when you feed your illusion, so much so that it starts becoming a delusion. you start giving parts of yourself to this person, convincing yourself that he loves you , just the way you love him and so you start losing parts of your soul, not knowing that when he leaves he’s going to take those parts of you with him and you’re just.. never going to be complete again. “ 

 just get this over with.

“ And finally... This is called Supernova. This is when all you mistakes come together and explode, destroying all your delusions and leaving behind a black hole of emptiness. You’ve lost everything that mattered to you, because the only thing that ever mattered was him , and now that he’s gone you can’t function. This is just Obsidian Stones. pure black and nothing else. “ 

I caught sight of movement out of the corner of my eye and went completely still when i saw the figure at the side entrance, leaning against the ornate door. 

And there he was, looking so good that my breath hitched and my jaw went slack. i stared at him, the lean frame, the broad shoulders. The perfectly styled ash blonde hair and the iridescent complexion. He was staring right at me. Dark eyes heavy as he watched me. 

 i saw the way some of the women turned around to get a second look. a better look. Because Min Yoongi was the sort of person, who made you look twice. 

With Yoongi , once would never be enough. 

you couldn’t just look once and ignore someone like that. You had to go back and reassure yourself that yes, he’s real. it’s not a dream after all. He’s real and he;s perfect and he’s there....  . 

My Lightning. My illusion. My delusion. My mirage .

Of course he’d be back. the moment i’d heard from a friend that Min yoongi was back in Seoul, i’d known that he would be back. 

with Yoongi once would never be enough. 

Not even when it came to breaking my heart. 

“The entire collection speaks of the crash. Because while healing is beautiful, heartbreak can be too. the crash and burn of emotions that go uncontrolled. Wild fire that burns down whole forests. And something beautiful , can come out of something tragic. Like these pieces. i hope you will recognize it for the sentimental value it carries and cherish it accordingly. “ 

As the exhibit ended and everyone began mingling freely, i slowly started putting the pieces in place. I knew he was making his way towards me and i was proud of myself for not turning tail and running. 

“Y/n.” He said softly and my name... on his tongue was just as sweet as it had always been. i smiled as i turned to look at him. His cologne still hit me like a truck and the sight of him, so close and so... reachable. touchable. it did things to me. i wanted to touch. To reach out, unbutton this shirt and press my palm to his chest, feel the warmth of his skin , the vibrato of his heartbeat and the heat of his muscles, firm beneath my fingers. 

it was like being hit by lightning , all over again. 

But i wasn’t an idiot.

“Did you enjoy the show, Doctor?” i said softly. He hesitated. 

“Y/n....”

“It was inspired by you after all. “ i said , still smiling and he flinched. 

“I should go.” He said stiltedly. 

i nodded. 

“You really should.” i said coolly, before turning back around to fix the jewelry. 

When I turned again, he was gone. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From : unknown.  10:43 PM

 Did you really have to do that, baby?  A bullet would have been kinder, if you were trying to kill me.

To : Unknown  10:45 PM

 yoongi?

From : unknown. 10:50 PM

Yeah.. it’s me... I... Hi. 

 I stared at the words , feeling helplessly lost and miserable. 

He did not have the right to do this to me. He really didn’t. But then... this was Yoongi. And without thinking too much i typed out the first thought that came into my head. 

To : Yoongi  10:55 PM[ unsent]

Why did you leave ?? [draft]

 i didn’t send it of course. A few minutes later my phone pinged again. 

From : Yoongi. 11.00 PM

i know i don’t have the right to say this... but... I’m sorry. i know the words don’t mean anything. i know you hate me and i won’t ask you to forgive me. i don’t deserve your forgiveness but.... I’m just... i’m happy. that you seem happy now. You’re successful and I know that you’re dating Seokjin. I’m happy for you. i really am. 

 I gripped the edge of my pillow biting my lips hard in annoyance. 

To : Yoongi 10:55 PM [ unsent]

Why did you come back?? [draft]

From : Yoongi. 12.50 AM

Good night, sweetheart. 

~~~~~~~~

“After spending an year in one of the prestigious universities in the World, Dr. Min Yoongi returned to Korea, last  week, only to have a mammoth fall out with his parents , who hold major shares in the Min Super Specialty Hospital in Seoul. The cause of the disagreement hasn’t been made public but close associates speculate that this has something to do with Dr. Yoongi’s very public divorce earlier this year.

The elder Min made it very clear that he did not approve of the divorce. But their personal feud spilled into their commercial life when Mr. Min announced that he would be withdrawing his support to the Hospital, from March.

As of today, Dr. Yoongi officially has announced that he intends to buy out his parents from the board of Directors to take full ownership of the hospital.

this is both extremely reckless and unwise, because the Mins have a net worth of 200 Billion Won ( approx 20 million USD ) in terms of shares and there is no doubt that this move will pauper Dr. Min Yoongi , especially because his hospital specializes in offering free and top quality healthcare to children...”

“ Y/N!! What are you watching?”

I moved to turn the TV off but it was too late. My sister stepped into the room, caught a glimpse of Yoongi’s face on the screen and her nostrils flared.

i jumped when my sister pulled the plug out of the outlet, causing the TV to fizzle out. She turned around to glare at me, eyes flashing with so much anger and annoyance that i recoiled.

“unnie... i was just...”

“what did i tell you about this?”

I sighed.

“He’s in trouble... i can’t just...”

“Can’t what? Can’t throw him away? Well, here’s news for you. He did the throwing! He threw you out like last night’s dinner and walked out of your life. So, it’s time you stopped watching and thinking and fucking caring about him...”

“I.. i don’t care about him..” I lied softly and she scoffed.

“No. Hell no.You do not have any excuse to watch this crap.  i will not sit here and watch you fall into that fucking rabbit hole again Y/N... he divorced you. He left you without so much as an explanation... he does not deserve that look you have on your face right now, alright. He does not... . it’s over. you do not have anything to do with him anymore. “

it’s not that easy. it’s not easy because this isn’t him. this is something bigger and stronger and more important than any heartbreak i may have experienced.

“I’m not going to do anything stupid, I just... he can’t possibly scrap up 20 million USD.” i said impatiently. “ it’s not for him.. it’s the hospital. You know how important that hospital is unnie.. So many kids and families depend on it and I just... i don’t want Yoongi to lose the Hospital...”  

And I don’t want Yoongi to lose his dreams.... i don’t want hurting. Did both of us have to be unhappy? I was suffering as it was so did he have to suffer too? It didn’t seem fair somehow....

“Are you serious? You want to help him now... after everything he did to you...”

“i want to help the hospital. There’s a difference. A huge difference. And i just.. i have an idea. “

“Y/N... Are you out of your mind? You actually want to see him again, that makes no sense..”

I sank into the seats, feeling defeated. Did i want to see him? No. Not really. At least not in the way my sister thought. I wanted to see him, just to remind myself that he was happy without me. That perhaps, letting me go had been good for him.

I thought that might help me move on.

But it didn’t work that way. i still loved him . Maybe more than he deserved. But then when was love a quantified commodity? If we only ever got the love we deserved, would anyone ever be loved enough?

If you only loved someone because they loved you back, how many people would you find to love anyway?

“I want to help him. I’ll always want to help him.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Maybe move the amethyst and jade on to the left? I think the rhinestone necklace and the bullet cabochon need to be on the second set of exhibits.” i said, scribbling down the instructions on a piece of paper, and watching one of Seokjin’s men carefully move the pieces as instructed.

“This is pretty damn amazing. all the tickets are sold-out. Not bad for a first time exhibition. “ Seokjin winked, giving me a one armed hug , his smile wide and happy.

I grinned and stretched my neck up to kiss his cheek.

“all thanks to you and Chae Rin unnie.... You guys really didn’t have to do this.”

“Come on, it’s the least we can do after you helped us out with Chae Rin’s show last month.”

Chae Rin’s fashion festival had hit a rut when her jewelry designer had taken ill all of a sudden. I’d designed jewelry for her entire line in a short time and in repayment, Seokjin and his sister had sponsored my first exhibition in Seoul. i was still completely overwhelmed by the attention and the flooding reviews and orders. it was surreal.

With Chae Rin endorsing my brand , almost the entirety of Seoul’s elite had become potential customers and long time clients in the space of a few weeks. i’d just shifted to a bigger studio last week, and the orders were still coming. I still worked alone though so most of those piece had a three month waiting period and amazingly the clients really didn’t seem to mind. Apparently, they absolutely adored the thought of wearing something that was handmade and customized , just the way they wanted.

“i think this is going to be a good show. “ i said with a smile, grabbing the clipboard and running my finger through the pieces, feeling a bit like I was dreaming. A dream that i could perhaps reach.

in the wake of that thought came a sharp searing pain right in my gut.

a dream..  

But not the one I’d dreamed so hard and so long, i thought bleakly.

“He’s back.” I said softly. Seokjin frowned.

“what?”

“Yoongi. He’s back in Seoul.” I sighed.

Seokjin looked surprised.

“i think he’s in trouble. I just.... I know i shouldn’t care but Seokjin... is there anyway you could help me meet him?”

Seokjin looked torn.

“Y/N...”

“it’s just.... there’s something i think will help him... help the hospital, I mean. i just want to make sure that he doesn’t have to lose out on the hospital...”

“Please tell me this isn’t about the...”

“We could make it an auction...” i said desperately. i didn’t really want to talk about Yoongi with Seokjin. this thing with Seokjin was still new and budding and i didn’t want to wreck it before it even began.

“Y/N! it’s your first exhibit... You can’t just make it an auction and...”

“of course we can. Look, i have it all planned out. I’ll have a pre-show,  during which i’ll talk about each piece and tell it’s story. anyone who buys it can get a one on one consulting with me and i can tell them exactly how and why the necklaces were made. Women like that. if they realize that the jewel has a special meaning, they’ll pay more for it. . Trust me, it will work. i’ll work hard for it... i can..”

“Y/N ...is it even worth it to...”

“Please..just... please Seokjin. Let me do this.” I felt my breath hitch. “ Yoongi saves lives. He saves helpless children. Nothing can be worth more than that....”

Seokjin sighed, gently wrapping his arms around me in a hug.

“okay, sweetheart. But that bastard better fucking apologize for the shit he pulled. You’re too good for him. You need someone who will cherish you for the amazing woman that you are. ” he said fondly, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. 

I hesitated, hating the way it was Yoongi’s face that flashed through my head , everytime Seokjin kissed me. 

[un-enfant-immature]

Hands-on with an Alpha build of Google Maps’ Augmented Reality mode

I think most of us have had this experience, especially when you’re in a big city: you step off of public transit, take a peek at Google Maps to figure out which way you’re supposed to go… and then somehow proceed to walk two blocks in the wrong direction.

Maybe the little blue dot wasn’t actually in the right place yet. Maybe your phone’s compass was bugging out and facing the wrong way because you’re surrounded by 30-story buildings full of metal and other things that compasses hate.

Google Maps’ work-in-progress augmented reality mode wants to end that scenario, drawing arrows and signage onto your camera’s view of the real world to make extra, super sure you’re heading the right way. It compares that camera view with its massive collection of Street View imagery to try to figure out exactly where you’re standing and which way you’re facing, even when your GPS and/or compass might be a little off. It’s currently in alpha testing, and I spent some hands-on time with it this morning.

A little glimpse of what it looks like in action:

https://techcrunch.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/viewer.mp4

Google first announced AR walking directions about nine months ago at its I/O conference, but has been pretty quiet about it since. Much of that time has been spent figuring out the subtleties of the user interface. If they drew a specific route on the ground, early users tried to stand directly on top of the line when walking, even if it wasn’t necessary or safe. When they tried to use particle effects floating in the air to represent paths and curves, a Google UX designer tells us, one user asked why they were ‘following floating trash’.

The Maps team also learned that no one wants to hold their phone up very long. The whole experience has to be pretty quick, and is designed to be used in short bursts — in fact, if you hold up the camera for too long, the app will tell you to stop.

Firing up AR mode feels like starting up any other Google Maps trip. Pop in your destination, hit the walking directions button… but instead of “Start”, you tap the new “Start AR” button.

A view from your camera appears on screen, and the app asks you to point the camera at buildings across the street. As you do so, a bunch of dots will pop up as it recognizes building features and landmarks that might help it pinpoint your location. Pretty quickly — a few seconds, in our handful of tests — the dots fade away, and a set of arrows and markers appear to guide your way. A small cut-out view at the bottom shows your current location on the map, which does a pretty good job of making the transition from camera mode to map mode a bit less jarring.

When you drop the phone to a more natural position – closer to parallel with the ground, like you might hold it if you’re reading texts while you walk — Google Maps will shift back into the standard 2D map view. Hold up the phone like you’re taking a selfie, and AR mode comes back in.

In our short test (about 45 minutes in all), the feature worked as promised. It definitely works better in some scenarios than others; if you’re closer to the street and thus have a better view of the buildings across the way, it works out its location pretty quick. If you’re in the middle of a plaza, however, it might take a bit longer.

Google’s decision to build this as something that you’re only meant to use for a few seconds is the right one. Between making yourself an easy target for would-be phone thieves or walking into light poles, no one wants to wander a city primarily through the camera lens of their phone. I can see myself using it the first step or two of a trek to make sure I’m getting off on the right foot, at which point an occasional glance at the standard map will hopefully suffice. It’s about helping you feel more certain, not about holding your hand the entire way.

Google did a deeper dive on how the tech works here, but in short: it’s taking the view from your camera and sending a compressed version up to the cloud, where it’s analyzed for unique visual features. Google has a good idea of where you are from your phones’ GPS signal, so it can compare the Street View data it has for the surrounding area to look for things it thinks should be nearby — certain building features, statues, or permanent structures — and work backwards to your more precise location and direction. There’s also a bunch of machine learning voodoo going on here to ignore things that might be prominent but not necessarily permanent (like trees, large parked vehicles, and construction.)

The feature is currently rolling out to “Local Guides” for feedback. Local Guides are an opt-in group of users who contribute reviews, photos, and places while helping Google fact check location information in exchange for early access to features like this.

Alas, Google told us repeatedly that it has no idea when it’ll roll out beyond that group.

[toopliss-chewtoy]

Hard Coded Ch. 4

Been too long again, I hope people are still looking forward to these x”D This chapter pretty much marks the half-way point of the fic! Lots of fluff and good vibes to make up for the last chapter. Art by @lucidorange.  - J. [Read from the start] Size: 3968 words Warnings: Author chose not to show warnings - some apply! Also on AO3

Chapter 4

Hiccup didn’t like to admit it… but he was getting pretty nervous over nothing. Again. He checked his watch for the millionth time in then minutes. It was 11:45. Jack would be there in fifteen minutes. He paced his room. This was ridiciulous. They were just going to hang out together, probably at Jack’s place or something.

It wasn’t like he was going on a date or anything.

With a frustrated sigh, he sat down on his bed, only to get up again a second later to resume his restless pacing around the room.

11:47

Frig fragging frigglesticks. This was stupid. 

He checked himself again in the mirror. A dark green T-shirt, black skinny jeans, and simple sneakers were his choice of wardrobe today. Picking it had taken him only half an hour - something that only seemed to happen when he was doing something with Jack. It apparently put him into over-think-everything modus, and he was driving himself nuts.

He literally jumped when the doorbell rang and he almost beat Gobber to the door.

“Haymish, the lad’s back,” Gobber said with a scowl at Jack, who did his best to avoid Gobber’s stern stare. Hiccup doubted they’d ever get along after that little break-in stunt. Not that it mattered; Jack wasn’t here for Gobber’s luscious beard.

“Hi… Haymish,” he said with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Don’t you dare, snowflake.”

Jack raised his hands defensively and laughed. “All right, all right. Are you ready to go?”

“Do I uh… need to bring anything?”

“Good spirits and maybe an appetite?”

“Bring him back before curfew,” Gobber interjected. Hiccup blushed and told him to shut it, because he didn’t have a curfew. He also said not to wait on him for dinner and herded Jack out the door before the mustachioed man could embarrass him any further.

They got in Jacks’ old Mustang and took off. At first Hiccup expected them to just go to Jack’s place, but they soon deviated from that route.

“So… where are we going?”

Jack just grinned mischievously. “You’ll see!” Hiccup rolled his eyes, but at the same time his heart fluttered. That smile should be illegal. A weapon of mass seduction on that scale might actually be prohibited by the Geneva treaty.

Hiccup didn’t realize their destination until Jack parked the car and turned off the engine, looking at him expectantly. Sure, he’d seen the signs advertising ‘Knighthood’, a medieval themed fair, but he’d never dreamed that was where they were going. Even when Jack parked the car, he still didn’t quite dare give in to the hopeful excitement.

“Figured it out by now or should I spell it out?” Jack teased.

Hiccup just stared in disbelief. “Really?!”

“Yes? Unless I’ve grossly misread about 100 consecutive signs.”

“Awesome!”

Relief washed over Jack. He’d guessed Hiccup would love this, but he hadn’t quite been sure. Seeing Hiccup light up like that was the most gorgeous and honest confirmation Jack could have gotten.

Of course he wouldn’t tell the brunet this had been a gamble, and that he had a Plan B, C and D into place. Instead he just put on a smug smile.

“I knew you’d like it!”

“But ehm… I didn’t know you liked medieval stuff as well?” Hiccup said. He was still working under the assumption that this was definitely not a date, and thus it would make no sense to go to something only he was into.

“Are you kidding me? Knights with huge swords and, if the flyer is to be believed, Celtic music! What is there not to like?” Jack said as they got out.

A cheerful tune on a lute welcomed them as they walked across the gassland-turned-parking-lot, heading for the entrance. At a big wooden gate flanked by two watch-towers, two knights in full plate-armour were standing guard. Above the heavy-looking doors was a banner with “Welcome to Nighthood” on it. Hiccup almost started skipping. His enthusiasm was adorable and a bit contagious. Jack’s heart skipped right along with the other’s springy steps.

They spent the entire afternoon roaming the fair. Line after line of tents in all shapes and sizes filled the usually boring, empty fields. There was a grill, flooding the fair with the distinct smell of charcoal fire and seasoned chicken. There were also grilled chestnuts, baked ham, and sweet potatoes, just to name a few of the culinary highlights. All drinks were served in baked clay mugs to add to the atmosphere. You were supposed to return them after use, but Jack made one ‘disappear’ into his bag for Hiccup.

Of course there was no lack of entertainment either. Jugglers and acrobats moved through the crowd and the boys witnessed some good ol’ jousting. Not the obviously fake show-kind either. Nothing but full-force jousting, smashing lances to tinder against thick metal shields.

Jack was especially impressed by the live music - all on traditional and historically accurate instruments; or so someone told him. His knowledge on antique instruments was nonexistent, so he took the woman’s word for it. He was particularly impressed by the lute player. He’d never seen someone go daft on a lute before in what was a seriously bad-ass lute-solo. He’d clapped till his hands were sore.

All the while Hiccup was enjoying himself with an enthusiasm usually only rivaled by ten-year-olds on Christmas eve after having too much sugar. Jack used his phone to take tons of pictures of giddy teen, as well as some selfies with both of them.

And then there was the smithy.

“Jack… are you sure this is a good idea?”

The white-haired teen pressed his phone in Hiccup’s hands.

“Of course! It’ll be totally bad-ass!” He grabbed the absolutely massive sword with two hands. “You ready for the photo?”

Hiccup readied the camera and nodded. Jack made a valiant effort to lift the huge slab of metal, much to the amusement of the blacksmith that was standing next to him. He heaved and puffed and pulled, and managed to lift the sword just a few inches before his arms gave in and the thing hit the ground with a deafening ‘clang’.

“Maybe you’ll want to take a picture with this instead.” The blacksmith offered him a tiny little dagger. Hiccup roared with laughter and took another photo of a blushing and pouting Jack with the wee little knife before he could hand it back to the blacksmith.

“I’m so getting back at you for that.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you bit off more than you could chew!”

“Who makes a sword that big? I thought it was a light prop or something!”

“You should have seen your face when he gave the dagger!” Hiccup giggled. “Man those are great pictures.”

“I’m so gonna delete those.”

“Too late, I already send them to myself while I had your phone!”

“You devious little-”

Hiccup jumped out of reach and skipped ahead, laughing back at Jack over his shoulder.

In between more taunts and photos with knights, they talked about pretty much anything. Hiccup asked a bit more about Jack’s family, who refrained from asking the same questions to Hiccup, knowing that ‘family’ would be a slippery slope. Hiccup didn’t miss that fact, but he didn’t mind at all; he was more than happy to discuss the cheerful things in life, such as his blacksmith uncle back in Norway. That caught Jack’s attention all right, especially when he mentioned said uncle was specialized in medieval weaponry.

It didn’t feel like useless chatter for a second. The white-haired boy was really trying to gt to know him. All the nerves he’d felt earlier that morning had disappeared to the back of his mind, pushed out of the way by the marvelous atmosphere here.

If you’d told him two weeks ago that he’d be hanging out with the Jack Frost at Knighthood, he would have called you insane. And if you’d told him talking with Jack was this easy and natural, he would have sent you off to an asylum in an instant.Yet here he was, happier than ever.

“You know,” Jack said with his mouth half full with bread-on-a-stick. “I think we’ve walked around the full thing twice now.”

“Yeah. I doubt there are any acrobats we don’t have a photo of yet.”

“Or any page. Or knight. Or dragon.”

“That dragon was awesome though.”

“Fucking furry.”

“Shut up. I guess we should go home then?”

“We’ve literally seen it all twice, so home sounds good.”

“Or maybe you could try lifting that sword again?”

“Fuck you. You’re not gonna let that go, are you?”

Hiccup laughed. “Nope. Never.”

A short walk later, Hiccup settled into the warm, leather chair of Jack’s orange pride. He sighed contently.

“Thanks,” he said. “I haven’t had this much fun since… since…” He stopped that train of thought right there and rephrased. “Since I don’t know. A long time anyway. So thank you.”

The suddenly very serious tone took Jack by surprise.

“You’re welcome,” he answered sincerely giving Hiccup a warm smile.

They were quiet for a little bit, both wondering what to say next. Jack tried to figure out what the other was thinking, while Hiccup didn’t really know what he was even feeling right now. But the moment passed, Hiccup buckled in, and Jack started the car.

They drove home to the tunes of the new CD Jack’d bought at the fair. The one with that awesome lute-player. Hell, there was a lute-version of Iron Maiden’s Phantom of the Opera! Needless to say, Jack was very pleased with his purchase and he hummed along to the ‘medieval metal’.

Hiccup was in a completely different world. He barely heard the music and just stared out of the window without seeing anything. He’d almost slipped up back there. He’d almost said ‘since I went with my mom’. That would have been a mood-killer for sure. And now mixed feelings were warring for his attention. On one hand, he still felt happy and elated, like he’d felt for most of the day. The fair had been great and he’d spend a wonderful day with Jack. But on the other hand he felt incredibly guilty. In some irrational way, it felt unfair towards his mother.And somehow his dad too.

Was that weird? It felt weird.

The result was an aura of doom and gloom and Jack did not deserve that. Especially not after a day like this. Hiccup got angry at himself for feeling so sad when he’d been so happy only moments ago, which then made him feel even more guilty, and beneath it all was a large dose of overall sadness, simply from missing his mom.

He casually looked ahead. Two bright headlights of an oncoming truck took him by surprise. He startled and a strong fear took hold of him, sending his entire body in a full-on state of panic. He screamed.

What if they crashed? Just like last time? It was a ridiculous thought, but that did little to calm his racing heart.

Please. Not again. Please, make it stop!

He closed his eyes and bit his lip, willing the tears to stay away. He didn’t want to break down again in front of Jack. He sucked in a ragged breath and tried to hold it, but if felt like he was suffocating.

I’m not some wreck Jack needs to take care of, goddamn it! Calm down!

He didn’t even notice they were no longer on the highway until Jack turned off the engine. Instead they were at on a parking lot at the edge of a forest. Hiccup looked to his left and saw two piercing, blue eyes staring at him. He tried to ask why they’d stopped, but his voice faltered. Those eyes that usually carried the hint of a smile were dead serious, even a bit sad. Hiccup felt as if they were looking right at his soul, straight through his sad excuse of a fake smile.

Despite Hiccup’s best efforts, he started to cry.

Without a word, Jack leaned forward across the middle console and pulled him into a hug. He put his arms around him as best he could in their awkward position, and Hiccup clung to Jack’s shirt, embarrassed to be crying again but unable to help it. Tears streamed down his face and his breathing came in irregular gasps. His whole body trembled, trying to stay upright in a violent torrent of emotions.

He tried to focus on Jack’s soothing voice, the hum in Jack’s chest when he talked. He felt his hand rubbing across his back in slow circles. It didn’t even matter what Jack said. As long as he was there, talking.

Eventually, the brunet started to calm down again. He took a few deep breaths in time with Jack, and then disentangled himself to wipe at his tears.

“Sorry… about that,” he mumbled, his gaze fixed on his lap.

“You missed her.” It wasn’t a question. Jack had stated it very matter of fact-like. The other nodded, still avoiding eye contact.

“Hold on.” Jack got out of the car, fetched something from the trunk, and opened the passenger door. He held out his hand and nodded with his head to the forest. He had a guitar-case strapped to his back.

“Come on. We’ll go for a walk.”

“I… I’m fine now.” The moment Hiccup said it, he knew that wasn’t quite the truth. And so did Jack.

“I insist. Trust me.”

Hiccup took his hand, and jack helped him get out. He intertwined their fingers and headed into the forest. No words were exchanged. Just a reassuring squeeze and the calm of the forest.

They didn’t have to walk far to reach a clearing. In the center were two big logs and a ring of stones, creating the perfect spot for a campfire. There was even a basket with wood, covered by plastic. In no-time, Jack had a fire going; he’d obviously known this was here. He then rummaged in the guitar-case and presented Hiccup with a bag of marshmallows.

Slightly incredulous, Hiccup accepted the plastic bag. He scoured the ground for two thin sticks and put the marshmallows on the, then handed one back to Jack.

They sat, watching the fire and roasting their fluffy blobs of sugary goodness, while the sun sneaked steadily towards the horizon. The clouds were painted orange and pink, while marshmallows slowly turned brown.

“Why?” Hiccup asked.

“Because I wasn’t going to continue driving while you were…”  Jack interrupted himself, not quite sure how to finish that sentence. “You screamed at an oncoming truck. You never told me the details of your accident, but I could guess. You were having a great time today, but on the way back, you were thinking of something else entirely.”

“Sorry…”

“There is nothing to be sorry for.” Jack tried to look the other teen in the eyes. “Listen. You don’t need to apologize for anything. Really.”

Hiccup was starting to tear up again and Jack put an arm around him.

“If anyone should apologize, it’s me. I could have taken you somewhere else. I could have taken you here. This was my plan B if you didn’t like Knighthood.”

“Your plan B isn’t even in the same ballpark as plan A. No offense.” Hiccup swallowed hard and put his head on Jack’s shoulder. “I… it…”

“You don’t have to explain,” Jack said softly. They lapsed into silence, eating their first round of roasted marshmallows as they were done. The sticks were reloaded, and the roast-process started all over again.

“You know…” Jack started. “…after my sister, I was terrified of ice-skating. And I hated lakes. I wouldn’t go anywhere near them, especially not the one where she fell in.”

Hiccup felt Jack shift besides him.

“Next winter, I didn’t touch my ice-skates once. There was a 50/50 chance I’d burst into tears when someone even mentioned ice. Every time I’d just think of how it was my fault again, and I would miss her. My newfound fear of lakes must have driven my parents nuts, but they didn’t say anything at first. Then they gently tried to help me get over it, and that only made it worse. I threatened to drive the family apart at a time we needed each other more than ever.” He fell silent for a moment and Hiccup put his arm around his waist, still keeping his head on his shoulder.

“Then came my uncle, Aster. He took me for a ride on his motorcycle; I can’t even remember where he said we were going. But before I knew it,I was at a lake. Not the same one where, you know… A different one. The entire thing was frozen over and there were coloured lights and flags and a hot-chocolate stand with countless children swarming about. The whole shebam. There was even a place to rent ice-skates. It was such a nice spot… but you can imagine that didn’t quite register with me. I was only thinking about Olivia.

“I was terrified. Frozen in place. How on earth could I go and have fun while my sister… couldn’t? It was unfair. It felt like cheating. And my uncle, he just knelt in front of me and hugged me tight. It was cold and I was crying and it sorta hurt my cheeks and he just held me. And then he said something I’ll never forget. He said: ‘Olivia would want you to go skating.’ For an instant I was furious, because how could he say that? But at the same time, I knew he was right. She’d always been so fond of the ice, how could I give up on skating because of her? She’d be so mad.”  Jack laughed. “Imagine that little frown. She’d call me an idiot brother.

“So I put on the skates and started skating again. And you know what? It was actually fun. We had hot chocolate and we took the scenic route home with his bike. He treated me to dinner and didn’t stop the positive attention till I was smiling again.

“How he talked of Olivia - with a touch of sadness but mostly with joy and a smile on his face - opened my eyes. Remembering her brought him joy instead of sadness. I learned how to be happy that day, despite the painful loss.”

“Is that why you brought the marshmallows and took me to the fair? To turn it into a positive experience?” Jack couldn’t have planned this like that, right?

“Ehm… no. I just thought you’d really like the fair. I didn’t realize what that might trigger until we were on our way home. I’m very glad I brought marshmallows though.”

“So am I. Did you ever return to that lake?” hiccup was already cursing himself for even asking, but Jack didn’t even tense. He simply answered.

“Not for another year. I skated around on it once, in honour of her. Never skated there since, but I still visit now and again.” He considered for a moment, and then added: “I make it sound easy. It wasn’t. I stood at the edge, skates in hand, for over an hour. But she deserved one more lap. When I was skating… I don’t know. It sounds stupid, but I like to imagine she was there with me, laughing.”  He gave hiccup a wry smile and hugged him tighter.

“It never goes away, does it.”

“No.” Jack could have added some cliches like ‘you learn to live with it’, but he hated those lines. He’d heard enough of those to deeply dislike them.

He stared at the sticks in their hands. “Hiccup?”

“Hmm?”

“Our marshmallows have fallen off.”

Together they stared into the flames. They were already impossible to spot. Completely burnt down. It wasn’t even that funny, but still they laughed as if it was the most hilarious joke ever; it was just so out of line with the rest of their evening. Hiccup felt remarkably better now, and they both wanted to move to more light-hearted marshmallow-level topics. They started by putting new ones on their sticks, this time keeping a close eye on them so they wouldn’t fall victim to the flames again.

Hiccup hesitated when Jack pulled over in front of his house. Blushing, he bent over the middle console to hug the other teen. Jack was happy to oblige and hugged back, rubbing the other’s back.

“Thank you for showing me it’s okay to be happy.”

Then he was off, waving briefly when he got to the front door, right before he disappeared inside.

Next Monday was art-class again. The last time Jack would be modeling, in fact. Not that Hiccup was in any kind of hurry; his painting was practically finished. He leisurely dotted the I’s and crossed the t’s, and he was already done putting his brushes away when the bell rang. The rest had been a bit slower and were just beginning to clean up.

Jack came over right away to look at the brunet’s painting.

“That. Is. Awesome,” he said. “You’re so good!”

“And it’s yours, if you still want it of course.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course I want it, how could I not want it?!”

Hiccup laughed. “All right, but it still needs to dry. Won’t be ready for transport for another hour or two, three.”

“You’re the best!” Jack hugged him tight and, as he was taller and stronger, managed to lift Hiccup off the ground a bit. Hiccup’s face instantly did a convincing imitation of a red buoy.

Jack grinned and almost kissed him on the cheek, but he was pretty sure Hiccup would literally die of shame if he did that. Besides, he hadn’t really made it clear that he like liked him. Seeing how clueless this boy was, he’d probably have to spell it out loud and clear before he would catch on…

“If we have to wait for it to dry anyway, how about we go for coffee or something? You’re done now, right?”

Hiccup was about to say ‘sure’ when his brain screamed the word DATE at him, and he blushed even harder. He couldn’t look Jack in the eyes anymore, who was starting to wonder if he’d done something wrong.

Hiccup mumbled something unintelligible.

“What?”

“You mean li-” The rest was lost to Jack.

“Still can’t hear you.”

“I said, ‘like a d-date?’” Hiccup was staring at his hands very intently now, feeling like a total idiot for saying it like that. Immediately he came up with 1000 better ways to phrase this uncertainty and sound totally smooth when doing so. But he’d already ruined his chance by sounding as smooth as crunchy peanut butter.

Jack was joining the blush-fest, however. He barely held back the ‘yeah duh, doofus!’ that popped in his head. Instead he was a little bit kinder.

“I’d like that?” It wasn’t supposed to be a question, but that’s how it sounded anyway.

“Really?”

Jack gave in to the impulse and kissed the freckled forehead. “Yes, really.”

This initiated an ‘awwwwww’ from the teacher, who was still there, sitting behind her desk. Jack looked at her surprised, while Hiccup had a distinctly ‘caught’ look. The colourful woman giggled.

“Go on,” she urged, happily gesturing. “I’ll wrap this up when it’s dry, you can pick it up tomorrow. You just look so cute together, and-” They both fled before she could make it any more awkward.

[askfornoguarantees-blog]

Paris

This past weekend we traveled with our program to Paris for 3 days. We took a EuroStar train under the channel early Friday morning and got to Paris around 1 pm. I always get confused with the one hour time difference between the UK and Europe but at least it’s a lot easier then figuring out the 5 hour time difference between London and the US. Going in and out of Britain is a lot more time consuming than I thought it would be because of border control, customs, and security. I thought that traveling between the UK and Europe would be really easy but the UK is a lot more strict about immigration and who comes in and out of the country. Everyone says that it’s because of Brexit but that isn’t even official yet and I’m pretty sure the UK has always been like this and it’s not some new policy change. Either way, the lines to get on a train, plane, or bus to leave or enter the country are always very long and frustrating. 

When we got to Paris, our metro transportation was already taken care of in the original price of the trip which was really nice because we just got unlimited passes for the weekend. The metro isn’t as nice or clean or quiet as the tube but it was definitely efficient and ran much quicker than the tube. We checked into our hotel, which was actually really nice, but of course there was some sort of confusion and me and Maeg’s room was the only room not ready. We just left our bags in Sammie’s room and went on the guided walking tour with our tour guide David (the same one we had for Stonehenge/Bath). It was one of the most pointless tours I have ever taken. He stopped at the Arc de Triomphe for about 2 minutes and wouldn’t let us go up it. Instead he kept walking and decided to focus on some of the shops in that area including Abercrombie and Fitch- because obviously that is really important to see when you’re in Paris. We did stop at this cute little cafe for lunch and I essentially got a warmed up loaf of bread stuffed with olives and cheese for 3 euro. I still have dreams about that bread.

It was so rainy and miserably cold that we were already in bad moods but the fact that he did not want to stop at any of the “major tourist attractions” because “anyone can do that in France” was so unbelievably annoying. I spent $360 so that I could see the main attractions in France, not American stores that you can see anywhere in any mall in the US. We slowly (and I mean really slowly because this tour guide walked at the pace of a snail) made our way to the Seine where we were getting on a boat to see Paris from the water. I remember doing this when I went to Paris a few summers ago and all I can say is that it is much more enjoyable in nice weather than in cold, wet weather. We were so cold by the end of it that once we got off, we ran into the nearest restaurant we could find just to warm up. The restaurant we chose ended being a little French place in the Latin Quarter that had a “tourist menu” where you could get an appetizer, entree, and dessert for 10 euro. Of course we all opted for that and also ordered a bunch of wine for the table. That dinner was as fun as the tour had been miserable. I’m pretty sure everyone there thought of us as obnoxious Americans but none of us really cared because we were laughing too much and having a good time. It was me, Maegan, Sammie, Rupali, Constance, Charlie, and Ben that mainly hung out together on this trip.

After dinner, everyone wanted to go out but I was so tired that I ended up taking a nap and by the time I woke up I had no desire to drink anymore. We met up with our friend Allie who is studying abroad in Paris and she took us to some really cool bars (one of them, they lit the bar on fire for half of their drinks) but they were so expensive that I didn’t end up buying anything. A double vodka soda was 15 euros and I tried Sammie’s but it was so strong that it burned the back of my throat so that was really unappealing. We still had a lot of fun though and of course got ham and cheese crepes on the way home. In the morning, we had to wake up early for another fabulous walking tour. Thankfully it only went until 2pm and then the rest of the day way ours. He took us through a bunch of back streets to see a little bit of Paris but again, he didn’t even take us to cool places. At one point we ended up at a very generic shopping plaza where he stopped to tell us that it’s where all the teenagers come to hang out. Like cool dude no one cares?? Unfortunately it was still really rainy and cold too so all of us were ready to get away from our awful tour guide.

The rest of the day ended up being really fun though. We walked a total of 12 miles and went everywhere from Notre Dame to the Louvre to the Arc de Triomphe to the top of the Eiffel Tower. We ate Croque Madames and Nutella crepes and macroons (basically all carbs) and did our best to stay warm and dry. I brought the wrong student ID so instead of getting into the Louvre for free it ended up costing me 15 euro. It was kind of a waste of money because I had been there before and my friends really only wanted to go see Mona Lisa (aka the most underwhelming painting of all time), but it is one of the most famous museums in the world and who knows when I’ll be back so I felt obligated to go. Paying money to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower was absolutely worth the money though. We waited in very long lines and it took a while to get to the top but once we did it was totally worth it. By the time we got to the top it was completely dark out, but all of Paris was lit up and beautiful. I made sure to stand in the middle of the elevator on the way up and had my friends stand in a circle around me because I was shaking so much from my fear of heights. I could literally feel my stomach in my throat. Ben was just as nervous as me though so we just talked to each other as a distraction and tried our best not to look down or up, just out. 

When we finally got to the top, however, it was really breathtaking. You could see all the streets and houses and buildings for miles. At one point I caught myself asking “I wonder if you can see the Eiffel Tower from here”, which Charlie immediately made fun of me for. I tried to FaceTime as many people as possible while I was up there including my dad and brother but the connection was pretty bad so the conversations didn’t last long. I just wanted to share the view with the people back home. We stayed up there for a while taking in the beauty of everything, but at some point we started getting hungry and cold and realized we needed to eat. We stopped at a cute French restaurant not far from the Eiffel Tower where I got a truffle risotto that was literally to die for. It melted in my mouth and I’m pretty sure I finished it in about 5 bites. Since the Eiffel Tower sparkles for 5 minutes at the top of every hour starting at 6pm, we decided to finish dinner early and go watch the light show. We grabbed some crepes to enjoy during it and then just sat staring at this beautiful, beautiful monument sparkle in the night. It really was mesmerizing and as Ben and I found out, if you stared at it hard enough, the Eiffel Tower itself faded away from view and all you could see were the lights in the shape of the Eiffel Tower. Those lights alone explain why Paris is called the City of Love.

After walking over 20,000 steps, we all decided that it would probably be best not to go out that night and just get some sleep for the next day. Maeg and I watched some BBC news (the only channel that wasn’t in French) and passed out. We had to wake up pretty early because we had bought tickets to get a tour of Versailles. Our tour guide told us to meet in the lobby at 9am but of course he didn’t show up until 9:30 and we didn’t leave the hotel until closer to 10. I’m not kidding when I say that this guy was the most inefficient, aloof tour guide I had ever met. When he finally got to Versailles, he informed us that the government in fact had made entry into the palace free for that particularly day so our official group tour had been canceled and we would be refunded. (We later learned from our friend Allie that Versailles is free every Sunday so there was no reason for us to pay for it in the first place). We then had to wait in an hour long line just to get into the palace.

Waiting in line wasn’t actually too bad because the weather had warmed up a little and the 7 of us were trying to come up with fun conversation topics. We talked about everything we could think of, most notably different conspiracy theories that we knew about. We finally got into the palace and made our way through the luxurious rooms. The best parts, however, were the gardens. It was acres and acres of beautiful ponds and trees and artistically trimmed bushes. We probably strolled around for an hour and a half just enjoying the beautiful scenery and the nicest weather that we had experienced in 3 days. We then slowly made our way back to our hotel (it was over an hour away from Versailles) and got ready to take the train back to London. Our tour guide said to meet in the lobby at 6pm (which we were all on time for) but of course he didn’t show up until 6:45pm. Which made us super later to the train; you’re supposed to check in a minimum of an hour before departure and we got there 10 minutes before that deadline. Once we checked in, we had to wait in a 45 minute long border control/passport check line. It was taking so long that we were actually nervous about missing our train. Luckily because the line was so bad they opened up a few more windows and things started to move much quicker. 

Once we got to the other side, our tour guide was no where to be found and we had to find out where we were supposed to be by ourselves. Right before we boarded the train, our tour guide showed up. He is literally the worst, I hope I never have to see him again. The train was then delayed 30 minutes because the checkin line had been so long so we got back to London even later then expected and then we had to take a 25 minute tube right back to our apartment. Traveling this much two weekends in a row was absolutely exhausting and while both weekends were so fun, I am really happy to be home for 2 weekends. All of us agreed that we were very homesick- not for our American homes, but for London. We are all so in love with London and it felt really good to be back. 

[joshuaferris]

Last weekend we decided to leave the city and head to a cabin in northeastern PA on Paupackan Lake. It was my birthday, I had been locked away at home since March, and Philly’s protests were leading to a lot of stress. Recently I’ve been worried about the interplay between the movement for Black Lives and the COVID-19 pandemic. I don’t want the uprising to stop and I am worried about everyone in the streets becoming infected with the virus.

A Victoria sponge.

Samer made a very classic Victoria sponge cake with homemade strawberry jam from Lebanon. We ate some for breakfast and then made our way out of the city. I wanted to try some road food on the way, so I remember hearing about a famous hot dog place in Allentown. My friend Dennis told me to skip it and make our way over to Easton and try Jimmy’s Hot Dogs. It’s a cash-only place in a strip small, and I thought it was great. It’s pretty simple, you get a good hot dog on a bun with mustard and a full pickle spear. I skipped the onions. That’s the entire thing. If you like a good hot dog and are in Easton, PA, you should check it out. I had 2! The (very) big dude behind us in line ordered 9. Sam is sure that he ordered for a family. I’m skeptical.

On our way to the cabin at 111 West Shore Drive, I typed in the wrong address. I typed in something like 11 North Shore Drive. We pulled in to a drive that did not look like the picturesque cabin that we saw on Airbnb. It was more of a bayou setting. Trailers very close to the water, lots of trucks, and at least 2 dudes with rat tails and or mullets. Pulling up, I was a little nervous about how a gay couple in a Mini Cooper was going to be received. We couldn’t get reception, and I was a bit of a nervous wreck. A toned-down, Joe Exotic stopped to ask us if we needed anything, but we said we were figuring it out. Moments later, a cop pulled up behind us. I was convinced these dudes had called the police on us. Samer assured me that the police in this area were not that efficient, but I wanted to bounce as soon as possible. All I kept thinking was that we stumbled onto a meth operation, and this small-town police is running a protection racket. Admittedly, my imagination probably got away from me.

Wrong Location -> Correct Location

We drove until we got cellular reception and then realized we were 20 minutes away from Paupackan Lake. We made our way over and were so happy when we arrived. I was not working that day, but my lead for the last few years retired that day, and I was one of the emcees for his Zoom retirement party. The cabin had terrible reception, so we drove up to the volunteer fire department parking lot where we could find LTE with 3 bars. We celebrated Dave and I made a few jokes. It was a tough week to do any joke writing, so I think it was my B-game. Certainly not my A-game. Also, being funny on Zoom is brutal. There is absolutely no feedback. I really feel for every comedian trying to make it work right now. That being said, all reports said he enjoyed it.

Sunset on Paupackan Lake

Ok, back to my birthday weekend. On Friday night, we split a bottle of wine and watched the sunset from the dock. It was very peaceful and felt a million miles away from the chaos of the quarantine or the intensity of the anti-racist uprising happenings. We made cod, garlic scapes, and a tomato and mozzarella salad for dinner. It was so delicious. Falling asleep was delightfully comfortable and quiet. There were no explosions from fireworks, psy-ops, or ATMs blowing up. There were no lights from all of the city’s light pollution and my phone was on airplane mode in my bag.

On Saturday, Sam continued the birthday celebration by making me biscuits & gravy. This is my favorite dish from Ohio that does not exist in the east. I could pass on most Midwestern recipes, but this south to the midwest breakfast is so goddamn good. I love sausage gravy. How could you not, but the truth is, this best biscuits & gravy I’ve ever had was at the Portland, OR farmers market in 2009, and it was made with brown mushroom gravy. It was delicious. Sam decided to make a mushroom gravy. It was terrific and as good as  sausage gravy. While he cooked, I meditated on the dock and was lucky enough to see a bald eagle skimming the lake’s surface.

The dock of our cabin.

We kayaked around the lake for about 2 hours after breakfast. There is a lot of marshland that you can skirt and see birds on Paupackan. On our way home, the wind picked up, and the paddle back was much more tiring than when we started. We spent the rest of the afternoon, napping and reading. Samer escaped to the hammock, and I really got into my book. I’m reading The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch. I am not a fantasy genre lover, but I am enjoying it.

A little dragonfly

For dinner, Samer made the best pork chop I’ve ever had. He made a sauce from red wine, apple butter, and apple cider vinegar. We paired it with a Cabernet Sauvignon and finished the birthday cake. It was a fantastic meal.

Waking up on Sunday meant that the weekend had already passed. Ugh, I loved the cabin. It’s difficult to describe how loved nature, the lack of connectivity, and the simplicity of everything. We decided to check out Lake Wallenpaupack before we left. That’s a vast and famous lake in the area.

We stopped by one marina and decided to check out the Lacawac Sanctuary on our way home, but on the drive, our tire went flat. We have drive-flat tires, so we limped to a gas station about 5 miles away only to discover our entire tire had completely blown out and was destroyed. We don’t know what happened. Maybe it was a little low, and the road’s curve hit it just right, but there was no saving it. I walked to the Advanced Auto Parts, where they told me the only tire guy open on a Sunday was M&J Tires. We drove another 8 miles on a flat and started getting nervous as we left the main road to see more Trump-Pence signs. If this guy didn’t have a tire, where in the hell were we stranded?

We pulled up to the tire shop and were met by 2 monster trucks flanking the entrance. No one came to meet us. I surmised the one person not fidgeting with a tire may be the customer in front of me. I asked her who was in charge and she pointed me to a guy named Mike in the back of the shop. He was not much for chatting and told me he’d be with me in 5 minutes. To an outsider, this scene may be overwhelming, but my life in rural Ohio prepared me for this. A big shop, lots of tires inside, outside, outback, on their sides, in racks, etc. and a dude who is not good with small talk or business formalities. I’ve got this.

At this point, we realized our cell phones were not getting any signal. Our Mini Cooper has a weird tire size, and my guess was that neither foreign cars nor gay couples with at least one foreign-born member frequented the shop. When Mike asked me about the car, I was frank, “I don’t know, man. I just drive it.” I knew I was setting myself up to get ripped off, but I was 130 miles from home.

Mike is a totally nice guy. He replaced my tire in a few minutes and then only charged me $45 for a new tire. I tipped well, and we made our way home.

I had a wonderful birthday, and it was so great to take the weekend to leave town. We maintained social distancing, enjoyed some nature, and utterly unplugged. I loved it, I appreciated it, and want to go back very soon.

My Birthday Weekend Last weekend we decided to leave the city and head to a cabin in northeastern PA on Paupackan Lake…

[prof-dr-md-mohiuddinuzzal]

stay productive

Well, there are lots of ways to stay productive at work and here are my top 16 tips to help you stay focused while at your desk, ensuring you get all your work done on time. Eat breakfast Start each day with a healthy breakfast, and by healthy I mean porridge, oats, wholemeal toast, eggs, fruit and yogurt – whatever takes your fancy. Try to opt for some low-GI choices to ensure you provide your body with slow-release energy to keep you going until lunchtime. If you have an unhealthy breakfast, or skip on eating anything at all, it will just leave you feeling tired, agitated and distracted. Sleep well Get some decent shut-eye every night. Experts recommend around seven to nine hours' sleep. If you're always having late nights, you'll regret it the next day because you won't feel rested or rejuvenated and ready to handle what's thrown your way. A good night's sleep will reflect in how productive you feel the next day, so ensure you make sleep a priority. Can't sleep? If you've got things whirring around in your head every night, keep a notebook by your bed and write down any niggles, worries or tasks you need to remember. If that doesn't work, then figure out why you can't sleep. If you're working late into the evenings, it might be because you're not giving your brain enough time to wind down and relax. Exercise daily To keep stress levels at bay, get out and exercise every day. Even if it's just half an hour of walking on your lunch break. Exercise will help clear your mind and keep you focused. You may think that being chained to your desk will mean that you get more things done, but it actually works against you. Get outside A good dose of fresh air and daylight, away from the unnatural environment of an office, is good for the soul. Particularly if your office environment is stuffy and dark and relies on air conditioning. Experts suggest that being outside brings all sorts of health benefits and that a bit of daily daylight is a stress buster, helping you to stay on track when you're back at your desk. Make to-do lists Whether you use the Task Manager in Outlook or you have something like Things for the Mac, make sure you keep a simple to-do list every day and give yourself a realistic set of tasks to get through. What I find helps is to tackle a difficult task first and then do lots of easy jobs to reward myself. You feel great once you've got a big job out of the way and that only boosts your productivity. Give yourself deadlines When facing each task on your to-do list, try and give yourself a deadline. That way, you'll be less inclined to procrastinate or waste time on other things. Schedule email checking Emails are a productivity killer. That's a fact. And it's all too easy to keep checking for new messages every five minutes. But doing so can mean you spend all day writing emails, instead of focusing on your work. Force yourself to check emails at certain times throughout the day. I try to check my emails every morning at 8am and then I don't check again until 12pm. So make sure you limit time spent on checking and replying. Keep phone calls short and sweet Chatting on the phone to clients, friends or suppliers can consume a lot of time. Try and limit each phone call by explaining to the other person that you're "on deadline" and can't talk for long – obviously, you won't be able to do this with some clients. In that case, turn off your phone when you're especially busy and ensure your voicemail explains that you're currently unavailable but will be checking messages later that day. Limit social media use Twitter. Facebook. LinkedIn. They're all so tempting to look at and can be very distracting. Like emails, you should only check your profiles at certain times during the day and limit how long you spend using them. Make sure you don't leave Twitter or any social media tools open on your desktop, they'll just keep interrupting your work flow. Use anti-distraction tools There are so many tools to stop the temptation of browsing the web or checking social media profiles. If you really can't stop looking at the internet, download an anti-distraction tool like Freedom. It's a really simple productivity application that locks you out of the internet for up to eight hours. Beautiful. And compatible with both Windows or Mac. There's also things like SelfControl, which blocks access to incoming and/or outgoing mail servers and websites for a predetermined period of time. Or you could try Think, which blanks out everything on your screen and allows you to focus on what you're actually working on. One thing at a time Concentrate on one task at a time. Multitasking might seem more productive, but it can really slow you down. Tackle one job before you start anything else, otherwise you'll never get anything done. This is one of my worst habits and I often find I'm trying to write emails, update Twitter and complete an article all at the same time. It's hopeless trying to do everything at once, because you'll never be able to focus properly. Split big tasks into bite-size chunks If you've got a particularly large project that seems overwhelming, break it down into smaller and more manageable chunks. Then tackle each one at a time. Keep a list and feel the sense of achievement when you tick off one of those smaller tasks; feeling unproductive can often come about if we're daunted by our work. Don't be hard on yourself, just take it one step at a time and you'll soon plough through the project. If you get stuck, move on With a list of tasks to get through, you'll undoubtedly come across something you can't finish. If you're stuck, simply ditch what you're working on, take a break and then start something new. You might find that inspiration strikes later that day and you're able to return to that difficult task. Cut out background noise Get your environment right and ensure you have no noise to distract you from your work. If you work in an office or from home and you find it's too noisy, try some ambient background noise in some headphones to cancel it out. You could listen to Sleep Sound, which offers free relaxing sounds like the ocean or a crackling fire. Or there's things like SonicMood. Alternatively, if you like to listen to music during your working day make sure you keep it light-hearted and not too heavy or distracting. Tidy desk, tidy mind Make it a daily ritual to tidy your desk or workspace before you finish or leave. De-clutter and get organised and you'll start each day with a clean slate. If your desk is messy, you'll almost certainly struggle to stay productive. Get magazine files, drawers and helpful storage solutions to keep your desk in order. Recognise the signs Finally, if you're still feeling unproductive and not tackling your work load as quickly or easily as you'd like, keep a notebook throughout the day and jot down all the things that distract you or kill your work flow. You'll soon see patterns emerging and start to understand where you need to make some positive changes. Prepare a podcast or audiobook for your commute. Tony Robbins calls it your NET time - No Extra Time time. These are the moments spent commuting, running errands, or cooking dinner where you can ingest new and important information. It's the time you could normally zone out but instead, you're replacing it with riveting ideas that could lead you to more ideas. Find movement every 60 minutes. Some studies recommend every 30 minutes, but if you are deep in your work, getting up for a walk when you're in peak creativity is just as counterproductive. I opt for a five-minute walk or stretch every 60 minutes in addition to using a standing desk. The quick break allows your brain to pause and rejuvenate. If you're in a slump and finding yourself checking your phone or hopping on social media too much, it's also a good indicator that you should take a movement break. Don't check your email until it's actually time to work. Repeat after me: stop checking your email right when you wake up. Just stop. Don't do it. The first thing you do, see, or hear when you wake up sets the tone for the rest of your day. Let your mornings be all you. You'll have time to email all you want later. Create accountability. Have a colleague or manager checking in on your project or status can help you focus and stay on task. When you know that someone else is involved with your work, you are less likely to fall behind. Pick three major things that need to get done today and assign a time/deadline to them. I love to-do lists. They are so much fun and sometimes I retroactively put things I've done on a new to-do list just so I can check things off. But, alas, I had to stop doing that. These days, I create that list but I rank the top three things that must be done ASAP, and they also have to be big projects. I can't list small and easy errands as my big three. From there, I assign a time when they need to be done. Deadlines are the biggest motivators. Additional tips to stay productive: Here are 50 simple ways (that we often overlook) to stay on top of our productivity game. I have found these ways to be helpful and hopefully it will help you out as well in one way or the other, 50. Stay focused on what you are doing. 49. Utilize and divide your time for each task in hand. 48. Analyze the outcome of your effort and decide accordingly how much time you need to spend. 47. Take a break. 46. Spend time with your loved ones and refresh your mind. 45. Share ideas with others and soak their criticism. 44. Keep your home office out of sight from your bedroom. 43. Invest in comfortable workspace furniture. 42. Meditate and relax your mind. 41. Are you a day person or night? Plan accordingly so you can get the maximum output from yourself. 40. Work slow but steady. 39. Ask for help when needed. 38. De-clutter your workspace. 37. Back up your data. 36. Keep a wrist massager next to the computer. 35. Check your email not more than twice a day. 34. Exercise. 33. Use the morning air or evening breeze to cool off your mind. 32. Set goals not a goal and work accordingly. 31. Have everything you need ready for whatever you are working on. 30. Have stationeries like pen, paper ready. Although you might be using the computer you never know when you are going to need them. 29. Shut the room door to block distraction. 28. Set limits for yourself. 27. Plan a to do list for each day and follow. 26. Read books on subjects that interests you to refresh your mind. 25. Walk, do not try to run with your project. 24. Stay informed on current news. Sometimes these can be a great source of information on something you are working on. 23. Instead of thinking why your life is so hard, think how you can change it for better. 22. Find others that might share similar interest to work with you. 21. Do something else every 30 to 40 minutes to refresh your mind and body. 20. Take a nice warm bath, it’s amazing what it can do to you. 19. Use a table lamp instead of overhead lighting to keep you focused on one thing. 18. Do not take phone calls unless it is related to your productivity for that particular project. 17. Divide your time between family and projects. 16. Give more time to family and get more peace of mind. 15. Keep it cool. 14. Don’t panic, it won’t happen overnight. 13. Find what others have done in related fields and learn. 12. Ask yourself questions, lot of them. 11. Let everybody at home know you will be working between so and so time. 10. Do not stress. 9. Love what you are doing. 8. Be Passionate about what you are doing. 7. Give yourself credit for what you do. 6. Look in the mirror and compliment yourself, just say “God, you are good looking !” 5. Build confidence in yourself. 4. Keep a positive attitude. 3. Forget about what others are doing, you do it your way. 2. Productivity lies within you. Know yourself first. 1. Read > Learn > Ask and Apply! Stay productive.

[avaliveradio]

9.2 New Music Monday Release Radar with Jacqueline Jax Mixed Genre Playlist

Explore some exciting new music from creators all over the world recently discovered by our host Jacqueline Jax as she searches the far corners of the globe for talented songwriters and music creators who are telling their truth to bring the listener a unique experience. This show offers everything for fans of New Music from Classical Composers, Rock, Synth to Acoustic Folk Songwriter styles that speak volumes through great song writing. You’ll love the lyrics and unique music we have just discovered for this segment.  

Listen to the show across all broadcasts:

SUBSCRIBE to our broadcast here: www.wavve.link/avaliveradio

The Anchor Fm page : https://anchor.fm/ava-live-radio/episodes/8-12-New-Music-Monday-Release-Radar-with-Jacqueline-Jax-e4u5os

iHeartRadio station page : https://www.iheart.com/podcast/269-AVA-Live-Radio-Musi-29336730/

The Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/episode/66mt0DJmsJXtOgZbuoMTRx?si=LYnez8dUTzi7mjM8FJIKEw

FEATURING:

Artist: Labán

New Release: Acércate

Genre: Pop, singer-songwriter

Located in: : Tijuana, Baja California, Mexico

Acércate is a song about an intense but short relationship that left the artist asking for more. It is the sweetness of pain. It is part of the upcoming album Todos Somos Dueños de Aquí.

The principle of respect for human life is part of the album’s concept and a central idea. Therefore, each of the songs is associated with a vital part of the human body. The function of each part is related to the song’s intention. This is the fourth single from the album.

Musically, it leans towards Jazz, Pop, RnB, Funk, and Rock. The lyrical content goes from protest against corruption, impunity, extreme income inequality and violence to frustration and existential crisis to love relationships and friendship.

A new trumpet funky tune, "Feel the Distance" will be the fifth single and it will come shortly after this one. We have a short but amazingly cool tour in certain cities of Mexico and the US will be announced after the release of the album, soon.

LINKS:  https://open.spotify.com/artist/1iSJ17cAQFOlXvFimf3PEb?si=vDfQBlOFQHeKwPCmn1VeSg https://www.reverbnation.com/labán/song/31066116-acrcate https://www.instagram.com/elbuenlaban https://twitter.com/elbuenlaban https://www.facebook.com/elbuenlaban

Artist: Chris Barclay

New Release: New York (I'm On Fire)

Genre: Rock, Metal, Guitar Shred

Located in: : Auckland, New Zealand ”I would love to be a solo artist traveling the world and also be available to be a session guitar player for anyone who wants me to bring some zing in the studio or on stage. Both are my dreams. I carry a card in my pocket with a statement written on it to remind me of my dream. "I am so happy and grateful that I am a professional guitarist performing around the world making a million dollars every year." Pretty big dream.” Technique wise I am influenced mostly by alternate pickers like Yngwie Malmsteen, Steve Morse, and John Petrucci. Style wise today I enjoy the use of Modal approaches like Steve Vai and Joe Satriani with Neo-Classical touches here and there.

www.chrisbarclay.net

I am a guitarist in the vein of Steve Van, Joe Satriani, Richie Kotzen, and Yngwie Malmsteen. My heroes are all highly skilled on their instruments. My music is made up of both song and instrumental music-based Progressive, Rock, Metal, NeoClassical Country Rock and Pop.

I have immersed myself in the guitar technique and I strive to cater to audiences who appreciate that same world. We are the guitar players, the musicians, the rockers and rock anthem lovers.

New York (I'm On Fire) is a little departure from my other releases. It is a song written when I first visited New York City. I was blown away by the energy of the city and it seemed that it was indeed the center of the universe. NYC seemed to me to be the ultimate metaphor for success, chasing dreams and where anything seems possible. This is what the song is about.

Chasing dreams, getting noticed, and the fire inside to be part of all the energy in the USA which has fuelled my obsession with this country in my previous work. LA and NYC in particular. I have crammed into ‘New York (I’m On Fire)’ power chord melodic anthem choruses, Vai and Malmsteen inspired guitar solos, and the major hook arpeggio came to me when walking around Times Square, staring up into the sunshine in a hot June sky, it arrived in my consciousness.

I rushed back to my hotel then recorded it on my Mac Book and my Fender Stratocaster. I knew there was a song in this when I got back home to New Zealand. There is certainly a little tip of the hat to Slash and Guns and Roses Sweet Child of Mine in the guitar hook. I wrote two pieces of music from this visit, the other that became a neo-classical Instrumental ‘The Freedom Fire and Love Of America’

LINKS:  https://www.reverbnation.com/chrisbarclay/song/29943877-new-york-im-on-firehttps://open.spotify.com/album/6FCkjAKZZjOw2OZPhi0TKW https://twitter.com/chrisbarclaynet https://www.facebook.com/chrisbarclaymusic https://www.instagram.com/chrisbarclaynet http://chrisbarclay.net https://www.youtube.com/user/chrisbarclay1

Artist: A Permanent Shadow

New Release: Fool

Genre: Indie, electronic, rock, synth pop, eighties

Located in: : Barcelona, Spain

A Permanent Shadow Releases 80's Synth Rock Single 'Fool' ahead of their New Album Launch coming up this year. ‘Fool’ was written after the terrorist attacks in our chosen hometown of Barcelona in Summer 2017.

We wrote this song after the terrorist attacks in our chosen hometown of Barcelona in Summer 2017. Lyrically, Fool is a plea for tolerance, open-mindedness and freedom of mind. We are nobody's 'Fool' and nobody ever should be. 'Fool' is the second single by A Permanent Shadow and will be released on August 30. Our first single ‘Empty’ got great feedback, and we are looking forward to 'Fool' getting some reaction. Both singles serve to herald the arrival of our debut album Songs of Loss which will be out on September 20.

The claim for this record is "45 years in 45 minutes" as we pack all our experience as people and as musicians in this record. It is music made from the heart but with a bit of brain as our lyrics are not the usual pop-rock stuff. We sing about losing your dignity, drifting through life without direction, getting rid of your former self, struggling with the passing of time or seeing your life fade away due to illness.

Happy-go-lucky it ain't, but people of a certain age and experience will understand.

LINKS:  www.facebook.com/apermanentshadow www.twitter.com/apermanentshad1 www.instagram.com/apermanentshadow

Artist: Henderson & Hemmerling

New Release: Follow The Light

Genre: Folk

Located in: Oshawa ON, Canada

This is a retro-sounding folk song in the style of Emmylou Harris, Joan Baez, Judy Collins about reuniting with a loved one after a long separation. It is about the journey homeward and the spiritual connection of two souls. Intricate acoustic guitar work, piano, bass, and beautiful 5 part vocal harmonies.

This release highlights our use of real instruments as opposed to synthesized sounds, a direction we have followed from the beginning. The pure, natural sound of early folk with a strong emphasis on melody, harmony, and lyrics. Our songs tell stories and incorporate symbolism and meaning.

We are currently recording a new album, keep an eye out for it.

LINKS:  https://soundcloud.com/user-641177893/follow-the-light https://hendersonhemmerling.bandcamp.com https://lornehemmerling.wixsite.com/henderson-hemmerling https://twitter.com/HendersonHemmer https://www.facebook.com/HendersonHemmerling

Artist: Humberto Castellano

New Release: Hall Of Heroes (Album)

Genre: Classical - Contemporary

Located in: Buenos Aires, Buenos Aires, Argentina

The debut album, "Hall of Heroes" contains six different stories expressed in music. Every song represents a very specific story, not a situation, but a sequence of scenes.

As you close your eyes and listen to the music, every turn in the melody represents a turn in that sequence. These are epic orchestral songs.

I'm creating pieces that sound powerfully emotional, like those of Hans Zimmer, but also, at the same time keeping the classical touch, like John Williams does. This album is, as you might guess, about stories in which the characters struggle to do which is correct. But there's also romanticism, pain, desolation, fear... hope. All those elements make a story complete.

Before the love for music arrived in my life, since I was a kid I already enjoyed telling stories, of any kind and to everybody. Later, I got into the musical world and crossed through different genres. But I always felt music as a world isolated from all of the rest of the things I loved... until, by coincidence (or not), I came across with three instrumental songs that changed my world entirely: 'Pirates of The Caribbean', by Hans Zimmer; 'Heart of Courage', by Thomas Bergersen; and 'Arrival', by Steve Jablonsky.

LINKS:  https://www.reverbnation.com/humbertocastellano https://twitter.com/HJCastellano https://www.facebook.com/HJCastellano https://instagram.com/hjcastellano

Artist: John O'Brien

New Release: Happy To Love

Genre: Pop

Located in: St Augustine Beach, Florida

This was a song that came about rather purposefully. I was scheduled to go to a recording session to record a couple of demos and I had written a fairly sad song that I was going to record.

I decided that I had to write a really happy song and spent time trying to figure out what happiness actually is to me.

LINKS: See video: https://youtu.be/_R0h2KB89B8 Website: https://johnobriensmusic.com Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/track/65h0Nqw8jzL435OpjvJYuB?si=uNYdmgMVQAORlrcZymQHfQ Tidal: https://tidal.com/browse/track/108168354 SoundCloud: https://soundcloud.com/john-obrien/06-john-obrien-happy-to-love?in=john-obrien/sets/the-love-you-need-album EPK: http://johnobriensmusic.com/gallery YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCwzP4-jgRZ1ofrEaKgQWX4w

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/johnobriensmusic Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/johnobriensmusic

Artist: Cabela and Schmitt

New Release: The Dreamer

Genre: Soul

Located in: Colorado and Nebraska USA

Dreams and procrastination. Funny how we would like to do certain things, but not bad enough to put the work into them to make them happen. Taking the easier softer road always leads to nothing getting done. And doing nothing is... just a dream.

We have so much music we want to share with everyone willing to listen. Decades in the making we are now dedicated to fulfilling our mission.

Our newest single Dancing Shoes is officially dropped 8/23/2019. Our next single Thankful will be out 8/20/2019. The 'Dancing Shoes' album will go out on 10-1-2019 with a few more singles in between. We are so grateful for all those involved in helping us get the music out there and to all the people who listen and enjoy it.

LINKS:  www.cabelaandschmitt.com https://open.spotify.com/track/1H9INRRrv17Po7xL8EiCuV?si=AAz9gCzpRy-u1xOFZEZq_g @CabelaSchmitt https://www.facebook.com/cabelaschmittmusic https://www.instagram.com/cabelaandschmitt https://soundcloud.com/user-473833568

[ecotone99]

[MF] Smoking Crack and Shooting Dope

Original article here: https://ad-venturing.com/2019/03/25/smoking-crack-and-shooting-dope/ ​ After graduating high school, I didn’t know what to do with my life. I didn’t get good enough grades to go to a four-year college, I didn’t want to join the armed forces and the job market was shot. I worked part-time as a lifeguard at a local pool but ten hours a week wasn’t’ enough to cut it. I graduated high school in the spring of 2009, in the middle of one of the worse economic downturns the United States has ever seen. I decided community college was the path I would take. Get the gen-eds’ out of the way then two or three years down the road figure out what the hell I would do with my life. And to be honest, I had no fucking clue what I wanted to do. I was still immature at that age. Spent most of my free time at drinking with my best friend Worm at this dad’s house. Worm’s dad was a bad alcoholic and would let us drink and party with him. It was a fun time. Never a dull moment. Never a sober one either. When I wasn’t hanging out with Worm I was either partying with other people or pissing my parents off. I had a rebellious spirit at that age and my parents didn’t take kindly to that. In general, three thirds of my free time were spent in Worm’s room drinking. Worm’s room was dingy. It was a small room with a bed, a computer and a couple of chairs. There was a bookshelf on the wall filled with Stephen King books and a few movies. Filled ash trays lined the computer desk along with empty bottles of malt liquor and the occasional Busch Light his dad left. Bottles of piss were shoved under the bed and a pile of dirty clothes were stacked at the end of the bed. Empty packs of cigarettes were thrown on the floor. Worm and I would spend our free time drinking malt liquor, smoking weed and fucking around on the internet. When the weather was nice we would have a fire and party outside. There was always music playing in the background. When I decided it was time to pass out I would sleep in Worm’s bed. Worm would stay up due to his insomnia and sleep when I was at community college. Sometimes I would wake up in the middle of the night and he would be so far gone listening to music or watching a movie. It was crazy to me how little he slept. We were both single at the time and spent a lot of time messaging random chicks on the internet. Most of the time I think they thought we were weird but occasionally some would want to meet up with us. Both Worm and I were broke at the time so we couldn’t take girls on nice dates or anything like that. Instead we just took them back to Worm’s room to hang out. Thinking about that in hindsight, taking nice girls back to Worm’s room was probably the wrong move. If I was in their place I don’t think I would have been too impressed given the empty beer cans, 666 marks etched everywhere, and ash trays stuffed with cheap cigarettes. Though, we did hide the piss bottles. Most of the time when we brought chicks back to Worm’s room, we would smoke weed then awkwardly try to make conversations. Ninety percent of the time we wouldn’t hear from them again. One night we were scrolling through Myspace and found a chick named Nancy. Nancy was a punk rock chick and listened to the same music we did. I decided to reach out the her and see if she wanted to chill. She responded back quickly telling me she was at a music club in a town 45 minutes away. She told us she was bored and if we came to pick her up she would chill with us. We decided to make the drive to pick Nancy up. Back then gas prices were around $4.20/gallon and working ten hours a week barley paid for my gas, let alone anything else I wanted to do. Worm didn’t have a job and resorted to pawning random stuff in his room to buy weed. This was an expensive trip for two broke kids. After hitting a bong, we took a drive out of nowhere town to another nowhere town to meet up with a pretty girl. We blasted Rancid and sung along to “California Sun”. Eventually we made it to the music club. I texted Nancy and she told me she will be out in ten minutes. Worm and I decided to smoke a cigarette and wait outside of the car. When the cigarette was halfway done Nancy came out of the club. Nancy was short with jet black hair. She was wearing black tights, a black Leftover Crack hoodie and had tattoos all over her body. Her eyes stood out to me as unusually big and blue. She probably weighted around 100 pounds and was half my height. Nancy isn’t the kind of girl you bring home to your parents for dinner. I could tell that about her the first time I met her. She seemed sketchy. I guess anyone who listened to Leftover Crack and had tattoos on their neck were sketchy, including myself and Worm. When she talked to us the first time she sounded high. Had a slow way of talking where words were slurred. When you looked into her eyes a blank cold soul looked back at you. Later I found out she was loaded on Xanax and a handful of other pills. Nancy asked us if her 14-year-old cousin could hitch a ride back with her and chill with us for a while. I told her that is fine, and she went back into the club to grab her. We then headed back to Worm’s place to chill. On the ride home Nancy told us that Rancid was her favorite band and she was glad we were listening to them. Worm lit up a joint and we smoked it. Nancy and her cousin didn’t smoke with us. Ten miles from Worm’s house we got pulled over for running a red light. “Shit”, I thought. I was certain we were fucked. We had just smoked a joint 30 minutes ago, and I was freaking out. Nancy was also loaded given the way she talked. She told us she was high on Xanax and some other pills when the cop was checking out my license plate. Luckily the lady cop told us to be more careful with our driving and let us go. I thought Nancy could have been a decent chick to go on a date or two with, but I found out quickly that I didn’t want to mess around with her. After we got back to Worm’s room she started talking about all these dudes she was fucking at the same time and the drugs her brother was doing. We asked her if we could film her brother shooting heroin and she laughed saying she would have to ask him. After that night Worm told me we had to be careful around this chick. I agreed with him. She is the type of girl the law follows, and you would catch something from. We hung out with her a couple more times then stopped talking to her after her boyfriend got pissed she was hanging out with us. ******* It had been around 6-7 months since the last time I talked to Nancy. It was the summer of 2010. Haiti was just devasted with a massive earthquake the previous winter and in 11 days President Obama would declare an end to combat operations in Iraq. I still spent the majority of my free-time with Worm. In the fall I would meet my future wife at community college. My life would be forever changed. I was sitting in my room and got a ping on my Facebook from Nancy. Myspace was officially dead, and society transformed into the new social media dimension. She posted on my wall asking how I was doing. I told her I was good and asked her how she was. She told me that she started to do heroin but was clean for now. I knew her older brother was a junkie and wasn’t too surprised that she followed his path. She then told me she broke up with her boyfriend and that I should come hang out with her and her brother at a summer festival the city puts on every year. It was my birthday and I wanted to get drunk, so I decided to go. I told my parents I was going to stay at Worm’s house that night. For some reason they never cared that I stayed there even though they knew his dad was a bad drunk and it was a poor environment for a kid with angst. But I’m not complaining, it gave me more of an opportunity to get fucked up. At the summer festival I wore plaid yellow and red pants a punk kid who listened to “The Causalities” would wear. One leg of the pants was yellow and the other was red. I donned a “Leftover Crack” shirt that said, “Kill Cops”. I just caught a misdemeanor in the spring and had to serve a day in jail in a few days. I looked and acted like I was a pre-convict with no future. I was ready to get fucked up and forget about my troubles with other punk rock kids. I met Nancy and her brother on a bridge over the river. The bridge was cloaked in trees that made it look like a tunnel into a different world. The river was flowing from rains that summer and it was around 90 degrees out. Nancy was holding hands with a punk rock dude I skated with a couple of times. I knew he did hard drugs and was certain Nancy was either back on them or will be back on them soon. Nancy’s brother, Sid, was as short and skinny as Nancy. He had a cut-off t-shirt showing off his full sleeves, tattoos on his neck and a buzz-cut hair cut with an 8-10-inch rat tail. Sid and I instantly hit it off and became friends. We walked to the nearest liquor store and Sid bought some 40s for us. I wasn’t 21 at the time and still needed someone to buy me booze. We spent the rest of the night drinking beers on the bridge and talking about music we liked. After the festival was over we walked back to Sid and Nancy’s parents house to crash. I was drunk off my ass walking back, and cops were all over the place. We took a back way to their home, so we didn’t get stopped by the cops. If they stopped us, I would have gone to jail given my age and due to the fact, I was on probation. When we got back to Sid and Nancy’s place we went to their basement where Sid sleeps. Nancy and her boyfriend followed us but left after her boyfriend started to get dope sick. I passed out a few hours later. A few days later Worm and I were hanging out looking for someone to buy us beer. Worm’s dad was out of town and the fridge was empty. I told Worm we could see if Nancy’s brother would buy us some beer. Worm hadn’t met Sid yet and I only hung out with him on the bridge during the summer festival. I texted Sid and he told us he would buy us beer only if I would drive him to the city to pick up drugs. Worm and I didn’t think twice. We thought driving to the city to pick up hard drugs would be an adventure and something new to experience. We were adrenaline junkies looking for the next journey and decided to get some hard drugs. We picked up Sid and Nancy at their parents’ house. Sid and Nancy were ecstatic and ready to get loaded. They planned to pick up some heroin and crack with the forty bucks they had. We blasted punk rock on my shitty stereo on the way to the city. Our first stop was to pick up heroin. We picked it up in one of the worst areas in the city. This was my first time driving through the hood. The house we stopped at was run down. Siding was falling off the house. Rusted out cars lined the driveway. Beer cans covered the stone porch. A guy was sitting on the lawn in a long-chair smoking a cigarette. He looked like he was about to pass out, holding the cigarette to his lips for dear life. You could tell he was a seasoned junkie. Sid began telling Nancy he didn’t want to go grab the heroin. He said the black guys in there made fun of him for his hair and tight pants and made him feel uncomfortable. Nancy said she would grab the heroin. It seemed like Nancy took forever. I was paranoid and kept checking the rearview mirrors to look for cops. I started to feel like this was a bad idea but kept my cool in front of everyone. Eventually Nancy walked out the door. After she got in the car she told us the guy selling her the heroin told her to come into the bathroom to get it. She followed him, and he pulled out his dick telling her to suck it. She said she grabbed the heroin and walked out. Sid got upset and told her he didn’t like her going in there. I thought Sid was a coward for putting his little sister in that situation. Before grabbing the crack, we headed to a McDonalds, so they could shoot it up. I asked them if they could wait to get home to do it, but they refused. When we got to the McDonalds Worm and I kept lookout while they prepared to shoot up. To prepare the heroin Sid pulled out a spoon and put the heroin on it with some water and a piece of a cotton ball. Nancy pulled the needles out of her bra where she kept them for safekeeping. After sucking the heroin up in the needles, they tied their arms off with the safety belts in my car. Worm and I both watched with fascination. I think they both thought it was weird how interested we were in watching them shoot up. To Worm and I, it was a new experience, a different type of adventure. It was exciting. Immediately after they shot up they changed. Became a type of zombie with slurred speech and eyes that looked like they were falling asleep. Nancy got way higher than Sid. I could barely understand what she was talking about. She wined and bitched about life. Sid was still coherent and was ready to buy crack. Buying crack was a better setup than the heroin. To get crack you drove your car into a car wash the dealers owned. You would then give the dealers your money and they would give you the address of where to meet them in ten minutes. We met the dealers guy in a sketchy van down an alley. Sid went out and grabbed the crack. Before we knew it, we were back on the highway. After getting off the highway Sid and Nancy lit up a crack rock at a red light. Crack smoked filled the car. I think Worm and I got a contact high, but it could have been all psychological. After they were done smoking crack a cop pulled up next to us at the red light. My knuckles turned white gripping the steering wheel. When the red light turned green the cop went one way and I went the other way. A breeze of relief ran through me. Eventually we made it back to the nowhere town in nowhere land. Sid bought Worm and I some beer and we dropped Sid and Nancy back off at their home. It was quite the adventure to get the few beers we could afford. Adrenaline ran through our blood the rest of the night. I haven’t talked to Sid or Nancy in years. The last time I checked Sid was clean and has a kid. Nancy is in and out of jail and hops from shitty boyfriend to shitty boyfriend. Nancy is still a junkie and will likely die one. A very short time in my life was spent with Sid and Nancy. I created some interesting stories with them that I will likely write about in the future. Feel free to follow “Ad-Venturing” to keep up with my writing. Until next time,

submitted by /u/hermanhugh666 [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2CAoABE

[toomanysinks]

Hands-on with an Alpha build of Google Maps’ Augmented Reality mode

I think most of us have had this experience, especially when you’re in a big city: you step off of public transit, take a peek at Google Maps to figure out which way you’re supposed to go… and then somehow proceed to walk two blocks in the wrong direction.

Maybe the little blue dot wasn’t actually in the right place yet. Maybe your phone’s compass was bugging out and facing the wrong way because you’re surrounded by 30-story buildings full of metal and other things that compasses hate.

Google Maps’ work-in-progress augmented reality mode wants to end that scenario, drawing arrows and signage onto your camera’s view of the real world to make extra, super sure you’re heading the right way. It compares that camera view with its massive collection of Street View imagery to try to figure out exactly where you’re standing and which way you’re facing, even when your GPS and/or compass might be a little off. It’s currently in alpha testing, and I spent some hands-on time with it this morning.

A little glimpse of what it looks like in action:

https://techcrunch.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/narrow.mp4

Google first announced AR walking directions about nine months ago at its I/O conference, but has been pretty quiet about it since. Much of that time has been spent figuring out the subtleties of the user interface. If they drew a specific route on the ground, early users tried to stand directly on top of the line when walking, even if it wasn’t necessary or safe. When they tried to use particle effects floating in the air to represent paths and curves (pictured below in any early prototype) a Google UX designer tells us one user asked why they were ‘following floating trash’.

The Maps team also learned that no one wants to hold their phone up very long. The whole experience has to be pretty quick, and is designed to be used in short bursts — in fact, if you hold up the camera for too long, the app will tell you to stop.

Firing up AR mode feels like starting up any other Google Maps trip. Pop in your destination, hit the walking directions button… but instead of “Start”, you tap the new “Start AR” button.

A view from your camera appears on screen, and the app asks you to point the camera at buildings across the street. As you do so, a bunch of dots will pop up as it recognizes building features and landmarks that might help it pinpoint your location. Pretty quickly — a few seconds, in our handful of tests — the dots fade away, and a set of arrows and markers appear to guide your way. A small cut-out view at the bottom shows your current location on the map, which does a pretty good job of making the transition from camera mode to map mode a bit less jarring.

When you drop the phone to a more natural position – closer to parallel with the ground, like you might hold it if you’re reading texts while you walk — Google Maps will shift back into the standard 2D map view. Hold up the phone like you’re taking a portrait photo of what’s in front of you, and AR mode comes back in.

In our short test (about 45 minutes in all), the feature worked as promised. It definitely works better in some scenarios than others; if you’re closer to the street and thus have a better view of the buildings across the way, it works out its location pretty quick and with ridiculous accuracy. If you’re in the middle of a plaza, it might take a few seconds longer.

Google’s decision to build this as something that you’re only meant to use for a few seconds is the right one. Between making yourself an easy target for would-be phone thieves or walking into light poles, no one wants to wander a city primarily through the camera lens of their phone. I can see myself using it on the first step or two of a trek to make sure I’m getting off on the right foot, at which point an occasional glance at the standard map will hopefully suffice. It’s about helping you feel more certain, not about holding your hand the entire way.

Google did a deeper dive on how the tech works here, but in short: it’s taking the view from your camera and sending a compressed version up to the cloud, where it’s analyzed for unique visual features. Google has a good idea of where you are from your phones’ GPS signal, so it can compare the Street View data it has for the surrounding area to look for things it thinks should be nearby — certain building features, statues, or permanent structures — and work backwards to your more precise location and direction. There’s also a bunch of machine learning voodoo going on here to ignore things that might be prominent but not necessarily permanent (like trees, large parked vehicles, and construction.)

The feature is currently rolling out to “Local Guides” for feedback. Local Guides are an opt-in group of users who contribute reviews, photos, and places while helping Google fact check location information in exchange for early access to features like this.

Alas, Google told us repeatedly that it has no idea when it’ll roll out beyond that group.

source https://techcrunch.com/2019/02/11/hands-on-with-an-alpha-build-of-google-maps-augmented-reality-mode/

[fmservers]

Hands-on with an Alpha build of Google Maps’ Augmented Reality mode

I think most of us have had this experience, especially when you’re in a big city: you step off of public transit, take a peek at Google Maps to figure out which way you’re supposed to go… and then somehow proceed to walk two blocks in the wrong direction.

Maybe the little blue dot wasn’t actually in the right place yet. Maybe your phone’s compass was bugging out and facing the wrong way because you’re surrounded by 30-story buildings full of metal and other things that compasses hate.

Google Maps’ work-in-progress augmented reality mode wants to end that scenario, drawing arrows and signage onto your camera’s view of the real world to make extra, super sure you’re heading the right way. It compares that camera view with its massive collection of Street View imagery to try to figure out exactly where you’re standing and which way you’re facing, even when your GPS and/or compass might be a little off. It’s currently in alpha testing, and I spent some hands-on time with it this morning.

A little glimpse of what it looks like in action:

https://techcrunch.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/viewer.mp4

Google first announced AR walking directions about nine months ago at its I/O conference, but has been pretty quiet about it since. Much of that time has been spent figuring out the subtleties of the user interface. If they drew a specific route on the ground, early users tried to stand directly on top of the line when walking, even if it wasn’t necessary or safe. When they tried to use particle effects floating in the air to represent paths and curves, a Google UX designer tells us, one user asked why they were ‘following floating trash’.

The Maps team also learned that no one wants to hold their phone up very long. The whole experience has to be pretty quick, and is designed to be used in short bursts — in fact, if you hold up the camera for too long, the app will tell you to stop.

Firing up AR mode feels like starting up any other Google Maps trip. Pop in your destination, hit the walking directions button… but instead of “Start”, you tap the new “Start AR” button.

A view from your camera appears on screen, and the app asks you to point the camera at buildings across the street. As you do so, a bunch of dots will pop up as it recognizes building features and landmarks that might help it pinpoint your location. Pretty quickly — a few seconds, in our handful of tests — the dots fade away, and a set of arrows and markers appear to guide your way. A small cut-out view at the bottom shows your current location on the map, which does a pretty good job of making the transition from camera mode to map mode a bit less jarring.

When you drop the phone to a more natural position – closer to parallel with the ground, like you might hold it if you’re reading texts while you walk — Google Maps will shift back into the standard 2D map view. Hold up the phone like you’re taking a portrait photo of what’s in front of you, and AR mode comes back in.

In our short test (about 45 minutes in all), the feature worked as promised. It definitely works better in some scenarios than others; if you’re closer to the street and thus have a better view of the buildings across the way, it works out its location pretty quick. If you’re in the middle of a plaza, however, it might take a bit longer.

Google’s decision to build this as something that you’re only meant to use for a few seconds is the right one. Between making yourself an easy target for would-be phone thieves or walking into light poles, no one wants to wander a city primarily through the camera lens of their phone. I can see myself using it the first step or two of a trek to make sure I’m getting off on the right foot, at which point an occasional glance at the standard map will hopefully suffice. It’s about helping you feel more certain, not about holding your hand the entire way.

Google did a deeper dive on how the tech works here, but in short: it’s taking the view from your camera and sending a compressed version up to the cloud, where it’s analyzed for unique visual features. Google has a good idea of where you are from your phones’ GPS signal, so it can compare the Street View data it has for the surrounding area to look for things it thinks should be nearby — certain building features, statues, or permanent structures — and work backwards to your more precise location and direction. There’s also a bunch of machine learning voodoo going on here to ignore things that might be prominent but not necessarily permanent (like trees, large parked vehicles, and construction.)

The feature is currently rolling out to “Local Guides” for feedback. Local Guides are an opt-in group of users who contribute reviews, photos, and places while helping Google fact check location information in exchange for early access to features like this.

Alas, Google told us repeatedly that it has no idea when it’ll roll out beyond that group.

Via Greg Kumparak https://techcrunch.com

[arisirie]

*whispers* sorry to everyone who follows me; whenever i get a tad too antsy, i answer ask me memes by myself. the answers and questions are after the cut, so please don't feel obligated to read them

have a nice day! <3

source

65 Questions You Aren’t Used To

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?

nope. i'm more of a 'believe innocent until proven otherwise' person. or in this case, 'believe real'

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you?

when i'm with someone else: 2 on my own: 5

3. The person you would never want to meet?

oh? i don't know. i'm generally okay with everyone, even those that others consider 'bad'

4. What is your favorite word?

tintinnabulation: the sound of ringing bells. i love its definition and the way it rolls off my tongue

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?

some kind of conifer, i think. maybe pine or fir. i'm pretty sturdy and i love the cold weather

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought?

'my bangs are assymetrical'

7. What shirt are you wearing?

right now, a dark blue shirt i've had since grade 5

8. What do you label yourself as?

let's see: girl, isfp, choice. that's as much as i'm willing to divulge at the moment

9. Bright room or dark room?

dark room, as long as the lights aren't completely off (i sleep with a nightlight)

10. What were you doing at midnight last night?

mm, i woke up a few minutes after twelve. after that, i spent a lot of time thinking

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far?

thirteen. grade 8 was my favourite grade

12. Who told you they loved you last?

my mother! <3

13. Your worst enemy?

i don't have one. but if we're not talking about people, i really hate spicy food

14. What is your current desktop picture?

a picture of megurine luka

15. Do you like someone?

at the moment, no! but i do like all my friends

16. The last song you listened to?

i'm currently listening to リサフランク420 / 現代のコンピュー by MACINTOSH PLUS (i'm a big fan of vaporwave) on repeat

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?

see #3 and #13

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?

see #3, #13, and #17

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do?

i'd get my brother as a helper, just so he can do a more equal share of his chores

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)

i've been told it's my eyebrows

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?

i'd probably look like me, but with a very short haircut. i'd love to try talking to some guys though!

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?

well, i can type on an old school cellphone pretty quickly. though that comes with practice, since i've had one for about four years now

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?

showing my feet in public. yikes

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.

nutella + ice cream + sweet bread; i'm a sweet tooth

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?

i had this exact same problem the other day (though the money was a gift, not a happenstance)! i spent about $40 on a few books i wanted, but i couldn't figure out what to spend the rest on

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?

iceland, iceland, iceland. i've wanted to go there since i was a kid

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out... so what’s it gonna be?

i don't drink (i don't like how alcohol tastes), but i'd get an endless supply of red wine please. for brands, i searched them up and banrock station sounds good

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?

"no harming others"

29. What is your favorite expletive?

cheese on a breadstick

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?

my bin of stuffed toys that i got from friends and family

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

my first panic attack, probably

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit... you can move to anywhere else in the world!

probably england. it's close enough to iceland, and i'm not as good in any other language as i am in english

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?

no one. don't mess with life and death

34. What was your last dream about?

ahhh, something about 'halftipedes.' sometimes i see this weird insect that looks like a mili/centipede in my house, and dream!brother told me that's what they're called

35. Are you a good...[insert anything you’d like here]?

...artist? i guess i'm okay. i'm not the worst, but i wouldn't get into art school

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?

the most serious case was for stitches

37. Have you ever built a snowman?

yes! i live in a country that snows

38. What is the color of your socks?

grey. they're either grey or black, really

39. What type of music do you like?

i like all music! i'm a big fan of edm, but i also like bossanova, electro swing, baroque pop, rock, etc.

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?

sunsets. there's something calming about dark colours

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor?

i'm generic: chocolate

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer)

i don't watch soccer often, but i have a soft spot for fc barcelona

43. Do you have any scars?

plenty. i fell a lot when i was younger

44. What do you want to be when you graduate?

clinical psychologist!

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

ermmm, probably my indecisiveness

46. Are you reliable?

i like to think i am, yes

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?

"are you happy?"

48. Do you hold grudges?

no, but i'm not someone who forgets

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?

i'd breed a cat + dog. i'm curious what their kid would look like

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had?

in recent memory, i had a conversation about how near the near future had to be for it to be considered the near future

51. Are you a good liar?

yep. pretty good. though i always feel guilty after a while

52. How long could you go without talking?

a long time, i think. not that i'd do it, but...

53. What has been you worst haircut/style?

when i cut my hair to shoulder length. that looked terrible

54. Have you ever baked your own cake?

not my own cake, but i'm baked cakes before

55. Can you do any accents other than your own?

the stereotypical asian accent, since i can speak tagalog

56. What do you like on your toast?

butter! i like it when it melts

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?

a tree on a field with a person underneath it

58. What would be your dream car?

a dark red bmw

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.

no. the weirdest thing i do is think. a lot. i spend more than half of my time in the bathroom thinking instead of actually taking a shower

60. Do you believe in aliens?

yes. as well as ghosts and other supernatural/magical folk (because i really love mythology and folklore)

61. Do you often read your horoscope?

i read it whenever i get the newspaper, but i don't give it much weight. it's just for entertainment

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?

'c' for cat. also because it’s the third letter of the alphabet (and my favourite number is 3)

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?

dinosaurs. i used to read about them all the time. my favourites are the stegosaurus and the plesiosaur

64. What do you think about babies?

they're cute! fussy, yeah, but i can live with that. i'm not thinking of having children though

65. Freebie! Ask anything interesting you can think of.

i'll share a fact about myself: i played the baritone horn in my school band. but if i could learn any instrument in the world, i'd like to learn the accordion