#and on top of that i toss u my garbage son ?

[meteovoid]

prompt: marika confronting julian about something bad they have done.

     alright, so . . . his pup ? not the most well-behaved. although classes had been taken, and a certification for his service dog status had been given, carl had very selective hearing. only about fifty percent of the time would he listen to julian. the boy’s mother, however, was up in the eighty-five percentage. good for her. but not so good for the brunet with a prosthetic trying to keep his unruly pup in check. carl, the three year old shiba, had most definitely decided to relieve himself on the blonde’s purse as she was busy doing whatever blonde ladies do . . . and julian had done his best to look past it. not so easy when confronted, though. “ you sure you wanna blame your shit on the disabled kid ? ” a go-to. usually worked, he was crossing his fingers this time. “ you know this is a top notch dog, right ? they don’t hand out certifications to just anybody, lady. ”  / @mementoviverc

[vannahfanfics]

Quiet Strength

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Katsuki Bakugo, Ochako Uraraka

Greetings, all~! Here is my next entry for the @bnhabookclub​’s Bingo Event, for the prompt “First Aid”! Kacchako stans, come get y’all food! \^u^/

Thundering howls of laughter rumbled from Katsuki’s throat as his gauntleted fist crashed through the solid boulder, sending pebbles and baseball-sized rocks sailing in every direction. Steam billowed from the magma seeping from the ultra-hot stone he had essentially liquified with the power of his explosion; the wispy white smoke kissed his sweaty, flushed face and tickled his tousled blonde locks before disappearing into the air. He yanked his fist from the crumbled rock, flexing his fingers experimentally, and hissed at the stinging pain that bloomed across his palm.

What had been the flame-retardant leather devised by the Support Course was now nothing more than a few tattered scraps barely clinging together. Dammit. Now I’ll have to submit for an upgrade. Who knows how long that crap’ll take? He scowled and shook his hand in the air. The bright pink skin wailed at the contact with the rushing wind, sending tendrils of fiery pain jolting up his arm and even into the junction of his shoulder. Katsuki ignored the sharp tingle, stepping over the destroyed piles of rocks to pick his way back down the slope to the floor of the gym.

“Wow, Bakugo!” Eijirou’s ruby eyes glittered in admiration. “You made short work of those boulders! Even in Unbreakable Mode, it took me a few hits!”

“Of course I did, dumbass,” Katsuki snorted and snatched his water bottle from the floor. He winced; in his lack of thought, he had grabbed the plastic container with his dominant hand- the burned one. The condensation littering the cold surface seeped into the singed flesh, making the raw meat there scream in agony. Katsuki only clenched his teeth and sucked down the water, then tossed the now-empty bottle into the garbage can in the corner.

“All right. You all have been at it for two hours,” Mr. Aizawa frowned while glancing at the screen of his smartphone. The gym echoed with exhausted gasps and reeked with the stench of exertion. “You’re done for the day.” Katsuki flexed his hand again, scowling as the pain rocketed through his nerves once more.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Fuck!” Katsuki exclaimed as the water cascaded down onto his wounded palm. He hadn’t anticipated the burn would be so severe. The skin over his fingers and palm bubbled up in several blisters, already filled with fluid though it hadn’t been thirty minutes. The water, though only lukewarm, felt like lava streaming over the injured skin. Katsuki fumbled to wash his body and hair with his non-dominant hand, keeping the burning flesh well away from the shower’s thundering stream. He didn’t even use it to towel himself dry.

“God damn son of a bitch,” he grumbled under his breath as he clumsily fumbled into his sweatpants and a tee-shirt. Why couldn’t it have been his other hand? “Fuckfuckfuck!” he cried as he lost his balance and began hopping around on one foot, his leg half-caught in the thick fabric of the sweats. An angry roar burst from his throat as he slipped in a small puddle of water and fell hard right on his rump. His tailbone wailed protest, spasming the muscles in his lower back, and he unleashed every curse in the dictionary and then some as he writhed on the damp bathroom floor. The skin of his palm pulsed with its own heartbeat, sending fireworks of pain up his arm with every drum. “Fuck me.”

Somehow, he managed to get his clothes on, finally. However, now on top of the burn, his lower back was aching something terrible. He limped into the common room, ignoring the content chattering of his classmates on the sofas to instead hobble into the kitchen. He winced at the stretch as he reached up to begin rifling through cabinets for painkillers and burn cream. He was too invested in his search to see Ochako meander into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of milk.

“Oh, Katsuki!”

“Jesus Christ-! Fuck, shit, fuck, damn it, ahh!” he cursed as he jumped and slammed his burned palm on the underside of the counter. Holding his wrist, he leaned over the granite and wheezed out an exaggerated whine. “What?!” he snarled as the girl scampered over to him.

“Your hand! How did you get such a terrible burn?!” Katsuki ignored the question. Ochako’s brown eyebrows knitted together as she inspected the bubbly flesh of his palm and the clear, sticky liquid oozing from the blister that had just burst. Katsuki clicked his tongue at her simpering piteous expression.

“Stop lookin’ at me like that. I’m fine,” he huffed. He glanced into the cabinet and found that he had been groping around the Silvadene cream the entire time. With a snort, he plucked it from the cabinet and struggled to open it one-handed.

“L-let me!” Ochako insisted and snatched the short, squat bottle of medicine from him. Katsuki turned around to rest his back against the counter, watching with critical red eyes as she quickly removed the lid.

“I didn’t ask for your help, Uraraka.”

“No, you didn’t, but you’re getting it anyway,” she responded coolly, making the corner of his mouth twitch. She slathered a healthy chunk of the goopy liquid onto her first two fingers before gesturing with her chin. “Open up your hand and spread out your fingers.” Though he loathed the fact that he required aid, refusing her now wasn’t worth the energy. Silently, he did as bid. His shoulders twinged with the flexion of his burned fingers. Ochako slopped the bright white cream onto the middle of his palm, and he melted into the countertop with a shaky exhale.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he breathed. Ochako smiled sweetly and began spreading the paste across his palm and up onto the undersides of his fingers. A cooling numb spread over the inflamed cells, quieting the piercing pain that had been pulsing in his hand since training had ended. He watched her careful motions with lidded eyes.

“You should be careful, you know,” she chastised him gently. “Even you have your limits. I know you want to get stronger, but nothing will come of pushing yourself to the point that it’s destructive.” Katsuki clicked his teeth at her, cocking his head to the side in a vain gesture. Ochako only smiled and applied a second layer of burn cream to his hand.

“You’re one to talk, Cheeks. What was that whole business with tryin’ to drop the stadium on my head, ah?” The Sports Festival had been months ago, but Katsuki still remembered their fight vividly. The way her body wobbled and sagged to the side, how she struggled with trembling arms to even bear her own weight, the glaze in her chestnut eyes as she struggled to keep her consciousness… His eyelashes fluttered to banish the illusion of the scene as she spoke.

“I have the authority to speak on it because I’ve been there,” she sighed. She stopped her ministrations to hold Katsuki’s hand up with both her own, Silvadene-coated fingertips smearing the medicine over the top of his hand. “Sometimes… everyone else just seems so great in comparison that it feels like I’ll never catch up. In that fight, I was so desperate to prove that I belong here… but it was destructive. I will grow stronger, but with time and effort, not with leaps and bounds born from destroying my body.” Katsuki’s eyes widened as he looked at her. The truth rang hollowly in him. Begrudged as he was to admit it, she was totally right. She smiled warmly up at him and then flicked him in the forehead.

“Hey,” he warned, and she giggled cutely.

“I don’t need another Deku on my hands! It’s bad enough that he’s broken half the bones in his body before the age of sixteen!” She exhaled deeply and retrieved a swathe of bandages. She unpinned the tan, thick fabric, then gently began rolling it around the palm of his hand. “You’ll get stronger, and I will too. We just both need time.” Katsuki frowned and looked away from her, debating whether or not to acknowledge the fact that she was right out loud.

“… All right, all right, I get your point,” Katsuki admitted after several seconds of silence. Ochako pinned the bandages with a small safety clasp and lowered her hands. The fabric was cumbersome around his hand and wrist, and he couldn’t even close his fist entirely. Still, the pain had been reduced to a dull ache that he could easily ignore with distraction. “Hey,” he said as she turned to retrieve her glass of milk, which still lay untouched on the countertop. When she looked back at him with an inquiring look, he blushed and pawed at his gym shorts, not really sure why he had stopped her.

“I, ugh… Thanks,” Katsuki fumbled and raised his bandaged hand. Ochako blinked at him, taking a moment to realize his gesture of gratitude, before smiling sweetly. Before she could respond, he abruptly grabbed her by the head and pulled her into his chest. She squeaked his name with her hands flapping about, not sure where she should place them.

“Hey,” he said softly. Ochako relaxed, and her hands drifted down to rest on his biceps. “You be careful, too. You think I’m stupid? I see you walking home every day wobbling like a drunk, and you threw up four fucking times at training today.” He felt heat bloom across his pectorals as her face heated up. He dropped his mouth against her hair, inhaling her scent of vanilla shampoo. “You be careful, too, dumbass. Who else is gonna take care of me when I go too far?”

“Hehe, okay,” she acknowledged with an eager nod. She pulled away from Katsuki to beam up at him with those big brown eyes that made his heart melt. Snorting at his sappiness, he lightly pushed her away, but the gesture was laced with affection. “Drink your milk, Cheeks. I’m goin’ to bed.”

“Aw! But we’re playing charades tonight!”

“Now I’m definitely goin’ to bed.” As he whirled on his heel, Ochako scampered up to hug his arm and bat her eyelashes pleadingly at him. Katsuki grimaced, but she grinned victoriously as a rosy haze spread over his cheeks.

“Please, Bakugo? Just a few rounds! You should see Kaminari’s impression of a crab; it’s too funny!”

“Agh, whatever, as long as you stop climbin’ all over me like a spider monkey!” he cried and shook his arm emphatically. She stubbornly clung to him like glue, cackling mischievously. “Come on! Let go!” he whined and pushed on her head. Finally, she relented, releasing him from her grip. “Bah, what am I going to do with you?” he growled and ran a hand through his ash-blond hair.

“Aw, Bakugo, don’t pretend you don’t like me!” she said coyly and stuck out her tongue. She gasped in dismay when he snatched up her glass of milk and drained it to the last drop. “Hey! That was mine!” she pouted and snatched the empty glass from him. Katsuki sneered and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes glittering playfully.

“That’s what you get for messin’ with me, Cheeks.”

“Ya big meanie!” she snorted, then smiled and nudged him in the ribs. She retrieved the gallon jug from the refrigerator and poured herself another, then skipped to the entryway. “Come on, let’s go!” she insisted and tugged the band of his watch. He allowed her to pull him along by jerking on the device. She smiled radiantly when they entered the common room, greeting their classmates and excitedly scampering over to the sofas to begin the game of charades. Bakugo leaned against the back of the couch, watching her with a tiny smile.

In his mind, Ochako really didn’t need to get stronger. She was plenty strong, but it was not the strength of a physical kind. It was a quiet strength of care and passion. Plenty strong for a reckless dumbass like me, he smirked in amusement. As she clapped happily to Eijirou’s comical rendition of a koala, she caught his eye and smiled warmly.

Plenty strong. Nothin’ frail about her.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

Tag List:  @sadistiks​ @wesparklebitch​ @deliathedork​ @simplybakugou​

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

so i am finally forcing myself to conclude my magicians rewatch with the last two episodes of s4, out of some combination of completionism/masochism/truly could not even process where everything was leaving off plot-wise the first time through, and i KNOW that i am UNFASHIONABLY LATE to the party of being mad about the magicians s4, but this is as it has always been a blog for whatever it is i cannot stop screaming about, so, some screaming re: not necessarily objectively the worst but the things that make me, personally, most enraged about the worst hour and a half of television i have watched in my life:

-before we even get in here, there’s just so much about… the entire show and especially this season… that makes no sense if the way it ends is Quentin Dies, so above all i am mad because this show tricked me into thinking that it was complex rather than incoherent. even setting aside the queliot of it all (which LOL), why have the entire conflict about quentin going to blackspire if you’re then going to double down on his sacrificial impulse a season later? why have him say he hopes to be a dad someday - a very tender and meaningful thing to come from a character who started the series unable to imagine even wanting a future for himself, whose deepest fears as surfaced by the mind prison back in S1 involve being unable to live independently and hurting his family, which shows such an evolution in how he sees himself and what he believes himself capable of - only to kill him 5 episodes later? is it literally just to make it hurt worse?

-so much is infuriating because it is ALMOST good! there’s ALMOST a very interesting and evocative metaphor about how the magic martin chatwin used to torture plover relentlessly keeps him alive in the poison room, something that hearkens back to eliot’s observation way back that he had all that power and still couldn’t stop thinking about the room where it happened. but then it’s all thrown in with plover of all people delivering all this shit about how people can change but no one will let you which is just, why? why would you put that idea in his mouth? what are you trying to say here?

-quentin looks EXTREMELY hot in an unzipped black sadness hoodie, very tony stark in iron man 3 vibes. this is oppressive to me. quentin should not look this hot while having to engage with such nonsense!

-the fish… the fucking fish… why would you specifically write that joshfish needs eye contact from a character who can pop out her own eye… and then use that to sideline margo from saving the most important person in her life… WHY

-alice giving margo relationship advice COULD be amazing but IS stupid because it’s the second time this season that a female character is like, “maybe i AM too much of an idiot to identify my own feelings until someone else points them out to me,” also because of the fish thing

-the alice/quentin romantic reunion… i don’t know. i don’t know what to fucking do with this. i think it is the second most infuriating thing to me, after quentin’s death, because it feels so regressive for both characters? why is alice getting back with her boyfriend of 3 years ago when her arc this season seemed to be about learning to live with her past without being trapped by it? what of eating gummy bears in modesto? it could have been a very beautiful moment for BOTH these characters who are so pathologically haunted by regret to reach a level of maturity and care that allowed them to say, we both love each other deeply and want to be a part of each other’s lives, but not the way we meant that three years ago, in a new way as careful deliberate friends which we’ve never really had a chance to be. and instead it is… the least romantic romantic scene in the history of television?

-there is so much i cannot make heads or tails of in the decisions around quentin in these two episodes and this is like top of the list, honestly. how the fuck are we supposed to read quentin’s decision to get back together with alice? because the explanation that makes sense is that he is traumatized out of his mind and extremely depressed and 2 out of the 3 most important people in her life are possessed by omnipotent god creatures maybe forever and ultimately yes he DOES love alice and he DOES trust her and no part of him is capable of engaging with anything like romantic feelings right now but he’s kind of like, well, you know what, why not. why not, if i feel like complete garbage and my best friend/unresolved former life partner love interest situation are probably going to die (especially since julia going goddess was like one of the closest things they still had to hope for beating the monster, as stated by julia herself in the previous episode!), just get back with my ex i don’t hate anymore. she’s into it, she’s here, maybe that will make me feel better. and what makes me feel like i have swallowed horse tranquilizers is that THAT IS FULLY HOW JASON RALPH PLAYS THIS SCENE???? we have seen quentin in the throes of actual love and desire, with both alice and eliot! IT DOESN’T LOOK AT ALL LIKE THIS! but that interpretation only makes sense if at some point later you are going to unpack it and undo it, which you can’t do… if he’s… dead. so: ??????????

-when alice floats the possibility that quentin has maybe managed to forgive himself, which is a bonkers thing to even be in the script at this point like that is always on some level relevant for quentin but so not in the top hundred concerns relating to the actual situation at hand broadly or on the alice/quentin level, nothing about quentin’s response says the answer is yes??? he takes this heartbreaking shuddering breath and dodges the question??? again, congruent with a reading where he is getting back with his ex out of intense depressed person logic but not remotely squarable with “and then he dies emotionally resolved”??? what are you trying to communicate to us insane writers/brilliant actor jason ralph i DON’T UNDERSTAND

-everyone else TELLING quentin he still loves fillory… let my son whomst is about to die have agency to define his own fucking feelings!!!!! also, bonus bananas reason to sideline margo with babysitting fish josh: of all the characters on this dumb show i think she is like fully the only one we could argue still loves fillory!!!

-there is so much wasted potential in the monster… honestly i can’t even go there in delineating all of it. so much evocative shit is thrown out (and hale appleman gives such a weird fun sad gross strange complicated performance) and then nothing ever means anything.

-again: there’s ALMOST something great in the idea alice and quentin toss back and forth that growing up doesn’t have to mean discarding everything about who you were before. there’s ALMOST an idea there which circles all the way back to the very first episode of the show, where quentin decides that his problem is not that he is depressed and sad and scared but that he needs to grow up and grow out of the person that he is. but what is the show trying to say in having his girlfriend from 3 years ago tell him this? why, again, if their rekindled relationship is supposed to be legible as real, does he spend the entire interaction looking like he wants to, uh, die? WHY does the show have alice echo back to quentin a sentiment about himself (that it’s beautiful that he really believes in things) that was last heard FROM MARGO, RIGHT BEFORE QUENTIN BLEW UP HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH ALICE BY HOOKING UP WITH HER?

-why… would you have… your beautiful sad depresso bean… express out loud the sentence, “if this couldn’t make me happy, then what would?”... and then kill him 40 minutes later and try to swear up and down these two things are unconnected. why. why would you have this moment of the despair of confronting the fundamental randomness of the universe, of being forced to abandon the quest to find meaning outside yourself, and follow that up with, um, literally anything other than the realization that meaning comes from within, can only be determined by the self, etc. why is that not the particular strain of wisdom quentin has spent four years building towards? especially given the occasional glimpses of it he’s previously had? (sometimes it is good merely to eat bacon and touch hands; the fuckin mosaic timeline) why don’t we go from the idea of fillory saved my life to my own capacity for belief saved my life, i saved my own fucking life, that’s a goddamn power i can take with me anywhere? or like, EVEN the fact that the fillory-flower decides that loving the idea of fillory IS enough, there’s… places to go with that, with the idea that things are what we make of them, we are the ones who make things matter or not… but no. now we can drink magic kool-aid and die stupidly. that’s the payoff.

-jason ralph of course acts the absolute shit out of this scene which makes it even more insulting!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! how dare you use his beautiful face, the most expressive face in the history of faces, to go there!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-i cannot believe there is so much bad television still to go after this

-do they have penny23 state out loud “it should be her choice” to make it feel like it’s okay for him to then go and make that choice?

-kady stating out loud that all she wanted to be penny’s girlfriend is… one of the most hateful things i have ever seen on television

-the fact that margo is in the mood for making out while things are at a critical point in Operation Save Eliot… hateful!

-julia immediately backing down from “fuck you for ending the 5 minutes of bodily autonomy i get every season” to “let me make moon-eyes at you”... H A T E F U L

-IN GENERAL, the hideousness with which every single fucking female main is treated in these two episodes is loathsome because it has forced me to finally understand the goddamn g*me of thr*nes people… for years i watched them be like, “yes, very much rape all the time, but sansa is so hardcore!” and just shook my head pityingly… but i too was fooled. i too was fucking bamboozled into genuinely loving 4 imaginary women that the show refuses to grant bodily autonomy or basic dignity or full personhood. sorry sansa people. i judged you too harshly this whole time.

-i mostly don’t hate josh or margo/josh but josh explaining to quentin why margo is mad makes me want to commit an act of physical violence

-there is SOME OTHER UNIVERSE with SOME OTHER SEASON 4 where the finale culminating in a celebration of the power of collaborative magic is very interesting and moving and thematically relevant. i would have LOVED to watch that season.

-why do we get to see the monster appreciating the beauty of the world 30 seconds before he dies? what is the point of this, other than to taunt us about what the monster could have been?

-everyone has said this 500 times but i will say it a 501st: it is literally unbelievable that quentin betrays no reaction whatsoever to eliot being monster-free.

-why the fuck is the scene in the seam staged the way it is!!! why does quentin take 800 years to throw the fucking bottles in!!!! why does his death look like a music video from 2004.

-to identify quentin as having the most beautiful and thematically lovely discipline possible and then two episodes later turn it into a snappy one-liner to usher in the worst thing i’ve ever seen on a television program…. haaaaaaaaate

-i can’t even be coherent about this scene between quentin and pod person penny except to REITERATE that it should be ILLEGAL for someone to give a performance THIS GOOD for writing THIS BAD

-wait i do have one thing to say which is re: “then i found brakebills, and all that went away” - enraging to me personally BECAUSE: the exact moment i fell in love with this dumb show was the closing of season 1, episode 6, the secrets magic in the trials, the moment the show careened away from the narrative it had been selling apparently straightforwardly for its first half-season - that quentin was only sad and sick because he didn’t know who he was, that after all his pain came from in fact being from secretly more special than everyone else - by laying out bare what was very, very evident in quentin’s actual behavior and temperament, which was that in fact brakebills hadn’t fixed him, in fact he had come to brakebills and remained exactly who he was, “this person that i fucking hate.” that was so true, and wise, and real, and felt like something really special that i hadn’t ever seen articulated quite so clearly and poignantly. so… to directly contradict that amazing moment of self-awareness and honesty and vulnerability… HATE

-not even gonna talk about this dumb fire scene except that scoring it to a song that includes the line “slowly learning that life is okay” is very very evil

-and, once again, julia echoing quentin’s card trick from the pilot could be really beautiful… in literally any other fucking context!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-in conclusion: HATE

[bravemccalll]

tag game!

i’ve always wanted to do one of these so god bless @mythgirlimagines for tagging me!! ur an angel!

you’re supposed to answer these 21 questions and tag 21 people.

nickname: um most people just call me nick. one girl calls me nickdick but we don’t talk about it ahsisidkdk.

zodiac: sagittarius

height: 5”9

last movie i saw: nails - i watched it with my mum and it was BAD but u guys should watch it just to laugh cause i know we did lol

last thing i googled: ucas track :((((( it’s the site that lets u see what universities have responded to ur application and whatnot lmao i live a SAD life

favourite musicians: hozier, billie eilish and khalid. can u guys tell i like lowkey indie stud lmao

song stuck in my head: tie between halo by beyoncé and somewhere only we know by keane

other blogs: um @symphoniesofthedead where i just collect aesthetic images for a book that i was going to write about witches and werewolves. u can ask me about it but i’ll most likely not know what i’m talking about ahsidodk

do i get asks?: mostly when i’m doing ask games or if someone just submits something. every time i get a notification my heart swells up ten times it size just btw

followers: 465! and only like ten are porn bots so yay!

following: the shame....799....im a goblin

amount of sleep: i try to get 8 each night but end up with 5 lol. i’m not joking when i say i’m always tired. i literally just project onto hajime when i write. i AM hajime

lucky number: 36!

what are you wearing: a pyjama top bc i’m going to bed son! tho i won’t fall asleep for twenty years shdioffjdj. also people who sleep with jammy bottoms are demons like it’s too warm for that shit get out of here. i’ll accept shorts bc i wear those to bed sometimes but if they go past ur knees, then they’re GARBAGE

dream job: hmmmm it depends on the day really. like rn i wanna be a poet but yesterday i wanted to be a screenwriter and last month i wanted to be an author. it always as to do with writing tho

dream trip: germany. it just looks so beautiful and i’ve always wanted to speak the language

favourite food: ugh i love so many!!! if i had to choose i guess it would be chocolate brownies and ice cream

play any instruments?: i used to play the violin when i was 10 and in my first years of high school i was kinda alright at the keyboard?? i don’t play anything now tho lmao

favourite song: depends on the day lmao. rn it’s a toss up between flame by sundara karma and somewhere only we know by keane

random fact: i once called myself an abortion in front of my driving instructor after i stalled the car at a traffic light and he was like oh ok.

describe yourself as aesthetic things: the swell of your lungs when you see your friends, your hands splayed, open palms towards the sun, laughter bubbling in your throat, in your veins, being happy enough that you think you might float away, the only thing keeping you here is your heart, it’s too big to be alone out there

tag 21 people: i know like one person and that’s my mum shdidoe this is going to be a STRUGGLE

i’m just gonna tag some of my favourite blogs so sorry if u don’t know who i am but i probably admire u a lot shdidod welP

@green-tea-frog @thewildwilds @jiilys @fuckjamespotter @gaythingsingayplaces @writingtheworks @philtstone @sirussly @asktheboywholived

[kyberled]

*gently places my url in here*

Send Me A URL and I’ll Respond With My Opinions…

Roleplaying/Writing

My favorite muse(s) of theirs and why: Oh, man. This is always such a hard question for me to answer, for anyone - But for Sam, especially. You give all of your muses such life and depth that it’s so hard to narrow it down. If I had to, I’d narrow it down to three: A’sh, Yaddle, and Shaak. Surprising, of course, no one. 

My favorite interaction/thread of theirs: God okay I love all of it but I have to say, Baby Braig playing with all of his various caretakers is the purest thing I’ve ever been a part of? God I love it I love them and I love you.

My thoughts on their unique characterization/interpretation of their muse(s): YOU DO THEM THE JUSTICE THEY DESERVE. All of them. Canon can be so rough to these kiddos and can also toss them into the garbage at all times?? I love them so much. And it’s nice to see the… Less desirable parts of canon getting fixed up and all? I love how you make them so real and even if you make their lives hell you do it in a respectful and understanding way and it’s just. So good.

My thoughts on their writing style as a whole: I love you and everything you do? Your passion and voice really shows through in all that you do. It’s amazing to experience and I’m so glad to get to write with you. 

Situation(s)/Plot(s) I’d love to see their muse(s) in: Look I’m down for literally anything. But I’d be down for anything like the masters teaching Braiggo about literally anything, or, get this, Braiggo teaching F’lur things while Mama T’ra does her thing? Maybe he has a tiny tree padawan. Who knows?

Someone else I love seeing them interact with: Liz. Again, nobody is surprised.

Anything else I want to say about their roleplaying: Sam is a gift we do not deserve. 

If We Know Each Other

What I Think Are Their Best Qualities: You’re always willing to help, to chat meta, to talk about the nitty-gritty of your characters and their stories. It’s so much fun and just. So informative. I love it. I’d die for you.

What I Think Are Their Strengths: The love of your characters while still understanding their flaws, not pulling any punches with them while still wanting happiness… It’s just so good. I love it. Also, your ability to appreciate a good smol bean is top of the class. 

A Memorable OOC Interaction Of Ours: We have the best saltfests. Just saying.

Why Others Should RP With Them: Because if you don’t, why are here? No, seriously, Sam’s great. Treat yourself. 

How Others Should Approach Them: FOR FUCK’S SAKE, BE NICE TO SAM?? EYE EMOJI @ YOU, ANONS.

Other Roleplayers I’d Recommend To Them: I’m pretty sure we’re deep in each others’ circles. Don’t think there’s really anyone I write with who you don’t. 

Anything else I want to say about them: I’m lov u

If We Have/Plan To Interact Together

A plot I’d like to write with them: I put a few up there. Anything though, really. Ilu.A muse I want to introduce to them: You’ve met my Best Boy. Maybe my trash son?A ship/broship I’d like to propose to them: Braiggo is everyone’s nephew, son, or grandson.A thread with them I’m excited about: ALL OF THEM I LOVE YOUAnything else I want to say: let our children be happy

Rebloggers, be sure to pick one of the below

This meme applies to:

[  ] Mutuals Only    [ x ] Only if we’ve interacted  [ ] Everyone

[calliecarmenauthor]

🔥COVER REVEAL🔥 books2read.com/u/bow5pp EXCERPT Chapter One August 1997 ABC News anchor: Musician Lucien Travis has died! The guitarist’s Mercedes was found at the bottom of a ravine in the Texas town of Spring. Forty-year-old Travis was on his way to an appearance on Austin City Limits and never made it to the performance. His manager, Terry Page, discovered the crash after she traced his route to the performance. The vehicle was at the bottom of the ravine. Travis’s body has not been found. This tragedy comes only two months after Travis’s wife, Delta, died mysteriously in their home. The couple’s young son Justin discovered his mother’s body, and the incident is under investigation. New Orleans, November 2017 “What’s wrong? You seem distant.” Amber ran a hand lightly over her boyfriend’s forearm. She could feel his muscles tighten under her touch, and she moved closer to him, drinking in his masculinity. They were alone in his shotgun double in Uptown New Orleans on a cold winter night. They sat on the sofa together, sipping wine and munching on cheese. “Look, this isn’t easy.” Tyler turned to her, his mouth set in a firm line. Her arm was linked in his. He’d poured a glass of wine for her and himself. Setting the wine aside, he said, “I’ve been rehearsing this in my mind for a long time.” Maybe he’s going to ask me to marry him. The thought raced through Amber’s mind, leaving her with a tingling sensation. She leaned closer to him, running her lips along his cheek. He flinched and rose abruptly from his seat beside her. Tyler ran a hand through his hair. God, how Amber loved that dark hair! It was thick and black. When he looked at her with those startling green eyes, Amber’s heart skipped a beat. Of course, none of her colleagues at her conservative local Catholic school even knew she had a boyfriend, and they certainly didn’t think she possessed lustful thoughts. School librarians kept students quiet and doggedly guarded the books. Never mind that she introduced innovative techniques and policies . . . Oh, well. Tyler paced the carpet in front of her, fisting and then unclenching his hands. “I’ve had something to tell you for a long time.” At that moment, the door swung open, and Adrienne, Amber’s best friend, strode inside and turned to close the door behind her. She’d barely stepped inside before she turned, obscuring them from her line of vision. “Hey, Tyler honey, did you tell her? I can’t stand the secrecy, and—” She stopped abruptly, turning and suddenly seeing Amber with Tyler. Adrienne had a key to his apartment? Amber had a key as well. Did he simply give his keys to random women? And what the hell did Adrienne mean? An uneasy feeling developed in Amber’s stomach. She threw a confused look in Tyler’s direction. He’d gone white, his fists still clenching and unclenching at his side. He was clearly debating what to do. Amber swallowed and found her voice. “What in hell is going on here?” Adrienne approached her mouth a round O. She was in shorts that showed the cheeks of her butt; the tank top she wore showed her nipples. Never had Amber seen her religion teacher friend dressed like this. Never. Adrienne’s mouth moved feebly before she finally said, “We’ve been together for some time, Amber.” The words echoed in Amber’s brain. Only a few days ago, she’d lain in Tyler’s bed and reveled in the warmth of his arms. His embrace had been pure sensuality. No, this couldn’t be happening. Amber turned to Tyler, who remained silent, and pushed his arm away. She fought back angry and hurt tears. “When were you going to tell me, Tyler? When?” Tyler started to speak. His mouth moved, but he stayed silent. He stood, turned on his heel, and disappeared into the kitchen. Amber then turned to Adrienne. “You do realize he was with me only a few days ago, don’t you? Did you think we weren’t having sex?” Adrienne stared at her for a long time. She placed her purse on the sofa and said evenly, patronizingly, “Look, Tyler and I just love each other.” Her voice took on a gushing tone. “We fulfill each other in soul and body in ways that you and he don’t. He said you were too virginal to fulfill him.” Amber blinked away tears and laughed bitterly. “Is that what he’s told you? Funny, considering we do everything.” She strode into the kitchen. Tyler was rummaging through the refrigerator and slammed it shut when she entered. Adrienne was on his heels. “Shit, Adrienne, I told you not to come tonight.” He held a container of potato salad in his hand but still looked ashen. “You ruined everything.” Adrienne stared at him with wide eyes. “I ruined everything? You told me your relationship with Amber was non-existent. You said she was like ice, like a stone. You called her Sister Mary Margaret.” Amber’s shocked gaze drifted from her once-adored boyfriend to her once-loyal friend. “Adrienne, why did you believe him? And Tyler, how could you tell anyone that when you know how crazy we can be?” Tyler hurled the container into the sink. “You two took this shit too seriously, for fuck’s sake. What did you think? I wasn’t proposing marriage. I gotta eat dinner. If you’d like to join me and make a—” “Screw you!” Adrienne’s face crumpled into tears, and she sprinted from the kitchen. Amber heard the door slam hard and then Adrienne shouting. “I—I don’t need you! I’m pretty. People say I’m like Snow White. My prince will kiss me awake.” Amber almost laughed. How could the spoiled little bitch say such a thing? Well, her daddy was some wealthy executive. She’d always been taken care of in a material way. “Well, I guess it’s still us.” Tyler turned to open the fridge again. How could she ever have been attracted to such a callous dope? Amber fought the tears threatening to blind her. She wasn’t sure if they came from anger or grief. She’d loved this guy, and not only had he betrayed her, he was showing himself to be a royal asshole. How could she have been so blinded? “No, Tyler, don’t be an idiot. It’s not us. Stay away from me.” “Look, shit happens.” He shrugged and tossed the container into a nearby garbage can. “Why do you chicks take everything so seriously? I thought we were all having fun.” “How the hell old are you? Haven’t you gained any integrity or sense over the years? Look, at what—twenty-seven—you should have some goddamned sense.” Amber blinked back angry tears. “You suddenly get integrity? You and your friend, that perky religion teacher? I didn’t hear any complaints when you groaned like some animal.” Tyler leered at her, walked to his refrigerator, cracked open a cheap beer, and took a deep swallow. He sent a mischievous wink her way. Amber turned on her heel, made her way to the living room, and retrieved her purse and jacket before bolting out the door. The crisp November air grasped her like the bite of a jungle cat. She turned up her collar and raced down the sidewalk to her car. She stumbled on her own heels and fell against an oak tree. Sobbing, she leaned against the tree until her tears subsided. The old oak felt stable, reliable, and comforting against her back. Apparently, neither her friend nor her lover had her back. Amber was going home to her corgi mix. Apparently, little Alwena was the only one who wouldn’t let her down. Sunday, two days later Amber was grateful that she had two days to grieve the loss of Tyler. She’d loved him, or had thought she did. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have befriended a backstabber like Adrienne? When Adrienne had arrived at the school, Amber had shown her the school’s proverbial ropes. They had enjoyed many of the same movies and books and had become close confidantes. Now, Amber simply felt like a fool. She was sitting on her old sofa stroking Alwena while she munched on popcorn. It was then that her phone rang. Did her mother have some power to let her know when Amber needed to hear her voice? “Hi, honey, I wanted to know if you were coming to Austin for your grandmother’s birthday. Getting away from your job might be hard, but she is getting up in years. Since your dad died, we’re all she has.” Vanessa Thorpe had been devoted to her husband, Amber’s father. Even when he returned from Iraq as a broken man, she’d stood by him. John Thorpe had never directed his violence against his wife and daughter, but he’d engaged in a number of self-destructive behaviors that had caused them much grief. He’d enjoyed fast motorcycles and too much liquor. His excesses had even dimmed his musical ability. He’d been a multi-instrumentalist before war had taken its toll. Amber knew her mother never understood why he’d joined the air force during the Gulf War, but strangely, Amber did. Her father was a native-born Texan and infused with patriotism from his own military father. He’d loved his job teaching music, and his music store, but September 11 had inflamed his patriotic spirit. He hadn’t died at war, but he’d returned as one of the damaged ones. When he died in a motorcycle accident in his adopted home of New Orleans, police suspected his accident had been purposeful. Grandma Margaret had adored her son. She was a spunky native Texan who still wore cowboy boots at seventy-seven and lived in suburban Austin. She respected Vanessa’s devotion to her son and adored his only daughter. Vanessa’s mother had died when Amber was a teen, and Margaret was now her only grandmother. Of course she would go to Texas, but she sure as hell wouldn’t tell Vanessa or Margaret about the humiliating scene with Tyler—not yet. Her mother hadn’t liked the bum. She didn’t feel like hearing her mother’s “I told you so.” Any sympathy would have been like burning acid on her soul. Amber barely kept her voice even. “Sure, I could swing a weekend, but it can’t be a long weekend. That skinny bitch principal we have doesn’t like it. She even makes us provide pictures of road accidents when we are late by a few minutes. Besides, I have to make provision for Alwena, make a reservation at the boarder’s, you know.” “Don’t worry, Alwena will be fine. You worry about her like a child. Besides, you need a new job, darling. That woman harasses you too much. When I get back into town, I’ll give that skinny Trish Baumann a piece of my mind. The woman is a Nazi.” Vanessa was an alumnus of the school but bore it no special love. She hesitated. “What is it, Amber? Something’s wrong, I can tell.” Tears flowed before Amber could blink them away. She hadn’t intended to say anything. How could her mother’s sympathy make her break her own vow so easily? “Mama, he broke up with me. Or, I did with him, and it was because he was sleeping with that bitch Adrienne!” “That bitch! She’s your friend!” Vanessa’s horror resonated over the phone. “I thought so, too.” Amber suppressed a sob. “Take a few days. Tell the bitch Baumann you’re sick. Come visit with your grandmother and me.” “Yes, Mama.” Amber pushed a button on the remote. A juicy but predictable mystery flashed on the screen. She didn’t know how drastically her life would change on Monday. Cover by Jessica Greeley

[rohitkkumar]

US report concluded Covid-19 lab leak theory plausible

I had thought that this day couldn't get any worse. Boy was I wrong. The whole week at work had been bad and to cap it off my boss, the president of the company, had called me into his office and chewed on my ass for for a mistake made by someone else. Now I get home and find my driveway blocked by my sister-in-laws car. I couldn't even park in front of my own house. The neighbors teenage son must have had friends over. There were cars lining the curb on either side of their house. I had to park three doors down.

I wasn't even sure why I was going to go into the house. My wife's sister Susan and I had never got along since the first day we met. I never understood why, but she seemed to hate me on sight. And I didn't think I was going to get lucky that night anyway. I hadn't had sex with my wife Janice in almost a month. Not for the lack of trying on my part.

As I got to my driveway I spotted the empty garbage can by the curb and drug it around the side of the house and through the side gate. I set the can next to the back door and stepped inside to the kitchen. I could hear music playing in the living room and the buzz of my wife and her sister talking. I reached into the refrigerator and took out a beer. Popping the top, I took a long swig of the cold brew before heading for the living room. Just as I got to the door I heard a sentence that stopped me cold in my tracks.

"God, he fucked me three times today." That wasn't my sister-in-laws voice but my loving wife's.

"Ever since Brandon came back last month I just can't get enough of his cock." I had never met Brandon but I knew that was the name of my wife's ex-boyfriend who had dumped her and moved away.

"So what are you going to do now?" my wife's sister asked.

"Brandon wants me to move in with him so I'll get a lawyer and file for divorce," Janice replied. "This is a community property state so I'll get half of everything."

I had heard enough. Numbly I walked to the back door and retraced my steps to my car. I opened the door and sat behind the wheel. I now realized why I hadn't been getting an pussy. My wife was giving it to someone else. Now she wanted half of everything. The worst part is the state would give it her.

Janice and I had married just three years ago. She had quit her job right after we said "I do." When she was home she never lifted a finger. I paid for a maid to come in three times a week to clean the house and do the laundry. She even cooked dinner for us on those days. The rest of the time either I cooked or she ordered out. Okay, I know what you're thinking, but I was in love and was wearing blinders. Sue me. She had kept me happy by providing good sex. That is up until a month ago.

My mother had died when I was thirteen. Both my father and I were crushed. She had been the center of our lives. It was hard at first but in time we managed to deal with our loss and go on with life. Dad did his best to raise me up right and I think he did a good job. We were very close and it came as a big blow when I lost him to the recklessness of a drunk driver. This happened when I was twenty three, a year before I met Janice.

Dad left everything to me. I inherited close to two and half million. A sizable sum but not all that great in this day and age of dot com millionaires. I had never touched the money, preferring to keep it invested. With the advice of a good broker I was able to make my nest egg grow, even in the current economy. I made enough I didn't have to spend it. And despite Janice trying to spend every dime I made, I had another hundred thousand in savings.

I was in love with Janice and we didn't have a prenuptial agreement. Like many men I was naive enough to think that my marriage would last forever. That mistake meant she stood to take me for almost a million and a half. And for what. For spreading her legs and letting me fuck her. And the state would give it to her. Talk about supporting legalized prostitution.

She had said she was going to get a lawyer which meant she wasn't yet ready to have me served. I still had time to act. I was starting to formulate a plan as I sat in my car. While I was thinking I kept my eyes on the rear view mirror and waited until I saw my sister-in-laws car back out and drive off. I started my car and did a u-turn and pulled back into my driveway. When I walked into the house Janice was no where in sight so I went into the kitchen for another beer. I popped the top and took another long pull on the brew.

"Oh, there you are, honey," Janice said coming into the kitchen. "I didn't hear you come in."

"Hello, dear. Just got home. Been a long day," I replied with a loving smile on my face. I would show her I could be just as good an actor as she was.

"I didn't have time to order anything for dinner," she said with a little pout.

What I wanted to say was, 'That's because you spent your day fucking your boyfriend and telling your sister all about it.' What I did say is, "That's okay, sweetie. I'll just heat up some of the left overs from last night."

Janice gave me a sweet smile and came over and kissed my cheek. "I'm going to go up and soak in a hot bath," she said.

I smiled and nodded. 'Yeah, got to wash all that cum out of your nasty cunt.' When she left I pulled out a box of fried rice and ate it cold as I sucked down two more beers. I tossed the empty container into the trash and went into the den to sit in my recliner. After surfing through thirty channels I settled on an old John Wayne western. Half an hour later Janice came back down and sat on the couch until the movie was over. She stood up and said she was tired and going to bed. 'Yeah, sure, tired from being a fucking cheating whore'. I told her sweetly that I was going to watch the news and then I would be up.

I hadn't really watched the movie. My mind had been occupied mulling over what I was going to do. I knew there was nothing I could do until Monday morning so I just had to get through the next few days. Saturday I worked in the yard and Sunday I played golf with a couple good buddies that I was going to miss. On Monday I called my broker who handled my inheritance portfolio and had him liquidate everything. One good thing about being in upper management was that I could cash in my 401K quickly. Fuck the penalty. By Thursday I was ready to make my move.

https://twitter.com/jamiejbartlett/status/1237020414725042182?lang=en-gThat was all I was going to take. When we had moved into this house I had put everything that was important to me into storage. It wouldn't fit with 'her' decor so there wasn't anything else that I wanted. She had picked out the furnishings and I didn't give a shit about them.

The one good thing is that we were renting the house so I had no money tied up in it. I had recently sold my condo and we were looking for the "right" house to buy. When I say "right", I mean "right" according to her. So far the houses we had looked at "Just wasn't right."

So Friday morning I kissed my wife on the cheek one last time and carried my suitcases out the door. I loaded them into my Lexus and drove away without a single glance backwards. My first stop was to an old buddy of mine, Jake, who I trusted implicitly. He was flabbergasted when I told him I wanted to trade titles for his older model but rebuilt four wheel drive. I told him in confidence what I was doing and an hour later I was headed west. I doubted anyone would connect me to this vehicle and Jake said he would keep the car I traded him in the garage, out of sight for awhile.

For the next four days I paid cash as I went. I had canceled all our credit cards and I wasn't leaving a paper trail. The biggest portion of my money was now safely tucked away in an offshore account with the help of my broker. I had a system set up with my him to arrange a transfer of funds when necessary. I had enough cash, which I hid in the SUV, to last for awhile.

The nights alone in the motels were the worst. For the last week I had been too busy putting my plan into action to really give much thought about what had happened to me personally. I had loved Janice. I wouldn't have married her if I hadn't. I played the what if scenarios through my mind, but in the end I decided that there wasn't much I could have done different. Even if I had known her old boyfriend had returned I don't think I could have kept them apart. I reached two conclusions. The first is that I don't think she really ever loved me. I was just a meal ticket. The second one was that it was my fault for being stupid enough to marry her.

It was my fifth day away from home and I was sitting in a mom and pop diner in a small town in Montana. I was thinking about what my loving wife was doing, as surely by now she had found out that all her credit cards were canceled and our bank account had no money in it. My thoughts were interrupted by an older couple sitting at the next table over. Even though they were talking quietly I could overhear their words.

The man was telling the woman, who was obviously his wife, that he sure wished he could take on another hand. The problem was that until the current calves were ready for market they couldn't afford to hire anyone. Even then there wasn't anyone willing to work for what they could pay.

I gauged the man to be in his late fifties. Though mostly gray now, you could tell that he was born with dark hair. His wife was a striking red haired woman with crystal blue eyes.

I finished the last bite of my meal and stood up and approached their table.

"I'm apologize for eavesdropping on your conversation but maybe I can help you out," I said.

The older man looked me over sizing me up. "I don't see how you could do that. If you heard what we were talking about you know that I can't pay you anything."

"How about if I just need a place to bunk out in trade for my labor?" I asked. His eyes narrowed.

"Colleen, excuse us for a moment while I speak to this young man outside." He stood up and waited for me to follow him. Once we were out in the parking lot where no one could hear us he spun around. I gauged him to be about my height of six foot. His shoulders were broad and it didn't look to be an ounce of fat on him. His face was what women would think of as ruggedly handsome and showed the lines from years of working outdoors in the sun. His eyes were dark brown and almost piercing as they bore into me.

"Who the hell are you. Are you part of that Wilson bunch," he spat out.

I held up my hands defensively. "Hold on there mister. I don't know anything about any Wilsons. Four days ago I was living in Texas and I just arrived here this morning. I just thought maybe we could help each other out."

"If what you say is true then why would you want to help us out? I can't afford to pay you. What's in it for you? If you're on the run from the law we don't need that kind of trouble."

"I am probably on the run, as you put, it but not like you may think," I said. I then told him my story about my slut whore of a wife who wanted to take me to the cleaners and how I could use a place to stay for awhile.

"So I haven't robbed or killed anybody. I'm just trying to keep what's rightfully mine. I just thought if you had a place I could bunk down I would repay you with my labor. I'll pay my own way and if I you don't think I'm any help then tell me and I'll be on my way with no hard feelings."

He stood and searched my face with his eyes. "Son, if what you are telling me is the truth I think I would be a fool to at least not give you a shot. https://www.fool.com/investing/2020/10/01/why-this-1-stock-could-bring-life-changing-returns/"

I told him that was a risk I was willing to take. He asked me if I had any experience working on a ranch. I was honest and told him that I had spent a few summers on my uncles place in Texas, but I wasn't a cowboy. He put his hand out and we shook on our agreement. He told me to call him Bill and I introduced myself. We walked back into the diner where his wife sat waiting.

"Colleen, this is Carson Jones. He's going to be working for us, if he can handle it," Bill said.

Colleen rose from her chair and held her hand out. I took it in mine. "It's very nice to meet you, Carson," she said. Her voice was clear with perhaps a lingering hint of an Irish accent. Like her husband she was trim and fit. She was a very pretty woman.

"It's nice to meet you too, Mrs...." I realized Bill hadn't told me his last name.

"Buckman. The last name is Buckman. But you just call me Colleen. Don't really have much use for formality in this part of the country." I instantly liked this lovely lady.

Bill told me that I could follow them back to the ranch. Before leaving town he pulled up to a general store and got out and I joined him.

"I thought you might want to pick up some clothes suitable for ranch work," he said.

"Yeah, your right. I don't think what I brought with me would last long," I replied grateful that he had the forethought to think of this.

I followed him in where he was warmly greeted by the store owner. It was obvious that Bill was a regular customer. Forty minutes later I had enough jeans and work shirts for a week as well as a coat and a pair of western style riding boots. It was enough to get by for now.

From the general store it was close to a twenty five mile drive to the main gate which was arched over with the name Rocking B Ranch on it. That was his brand, a rocking B. It was another mile of private road to the main house. Their two story house stood on a rise. It was well maintained and looked to be freshly painted. Behind the house I could see a barn and several out buildings.

The pickup they drove was partly filled with sacks of groceries and I reckoned this was probably their weekly trip into town for supplies. I pulled up behind them and filled my arms with the bags and followed the Buckmans into the kitchen. Two trips and we had the truck unloaded.

Bill told me to drive around back and he would would show me where I could bunk down. I pulled around and saw him standing in front of a small cabin. When I got out he said I could use this cabin and he pointed to a similar one a few yards away and told me that one was used by Sam. He said Sam was out making the rounds and I would meet him later.

Bill waited while I unloaded my bags. The cabin had one large room that had a bed along one wall and a table with two chairs. In one corner was a pot belly wood stove. There was also a bathroom with a single stall shower. It wasn't fancy but it was clean. It would do for now as a suitable place to stay and hopefully avoid being found by Janice.

When I went back outside Bill was sitting in his pickup and told me to hop in. He took me for a ride around the ranch. He had almost six thousand acres of which five thousand were pretty flat and made for good grazing. There was a couple hundred acres sectioned off that he grew winter feed on. The back section of the ranch was hilly and covered by forest. Farther on I could see mountains from which a stream flowed cutting through the property. He said this area was only traversable on horseback.

I learned that he used to have three full time hands but times had been rough and Sam was the only one left. He had been working on the ranch for going on thirty years. During round up when they selected stock to take to market he did hire extra help. It was five o'clock when he dropped me off at the little cabin.

"Oh, by the way. I noticed you carry in a lap top. I've got a satellite connection with a router so you can access the internet wirelessly. Supper is in the main house and we normally eat at six," he said before pulling away.

It took me less than thirty minutes to have my stuff put away. That left me time to boot up my computer. Just as Bill had said, I was able to make a wireless connection. I checked my e-mail real quick. I had set up a new account and there was one e-mail from Jake. He had said if he had any news about Janice he would let me know. Apparently she had reported me missing to the police and they were investigating my disappearance. That gave something to think about. Jake was the only one that I had actually told I was leaving and even he didn't know where I was going as at the time I didn't either. I had mailed my resignation to my former employer but hadn't actually told them in person that I was leaving.

Just before six I walked over to the main house and knocked on the kitchen door. Bill called out for me to come on in. I stepped inside and saw Colleen putting the food on the table. Bill was standing to one side talking to a man that I assumed was Sam. Bill motioned me over.

"Sam, this is Carson, the new hand I was telling you about. At least for today. We'll see how he feels about it tomorrow after a days work," Bill said with a broad grin. "Carson, this here's Sam."

Sam gave me a beaming smile and stuck out his hand. He was a big man. At least six foot three and like Bill, looked like he had worked hard all his life. He appeared to be about the same age as Bill. One other thing, he was African American.

I shook his hand and could feel the strength in his grip. "Well, young man, lets hope you like it here. I could use the help," he said.

I guess at twenty eight I was about half his age so he considered me to be young. "I plan to give it my best shot," I replied.

Just then Colleen told us to sit down as supper was ready. Bill and his wife sat at opposite ends of the table which left Sam and I to sit between them across from each other. On the table was a large platter of pork chops, a big bowl of mashed potatoes and another with fresh green beans. There was also a plate stacked with obviously home made biscuits.

"We don't eat fancy here, Carson," Colleen said. "But there's plenty and it's filling."

My mouth was watering. "It looks great," I replied. The food was passed around and our plates were filled. It looked delicious and was. Colleen was a good cook. As we ate I asked Bill if he had been here all his life.

"Yep. My grandfather started this ranch and passed it on to my father. Now it belongs to me and Colleen." Bill paused as if in thought. "Although when I was younger I wasn't so sure she was going to be a part of it. I had to fight off every man in three counties to get her." Bill looked at his wife and I could see the depths of his love for her in his eyes.

"Now, Bill. You know you're the only man I ever had eyes for. I just had to make sure that you wanted me enough," Colleen said.

"My wife has been responsible for the three happiest days of my life. The day she agreed to marry me, the day she did marry me and the day she gave birth to our daughter Caitlin," Bill said. I hadn't seen any sign of a daughter and Colleen must have read my look of curiosity.

"Our daughter is away right now. Caitlin is finishing her doctorates degree in Veterinary Sciences at South Dakota State. She has only been able to get home for the holidays and we are anxiously waiting for her to come back home with her degree. She's supposed to be home in a couple of months," Colleen said.

"It'll be nice to have a vet in the family. Should could down on some of the expenses," Bill added with a grin.

After dinner I tried to help clear the dishes but Colleen told me that that was her job and shooed me away. Bill told me that breakfast was at five thirty and we started to work at six. As Sam and I were leaving I noticed a copy of today's New York Times on the counter. Bill must have picked it up when he was in town. I asked him if I could borrow the front page and he said sure. Once we were out of the house I asked Sam if he could step into my cabin for a minute. We went inside and I took out my digital camera and showed him how use it. I had him take a close up of me holding front page of the news paper up. I could tell he was curious about why I wanted this picture but he didn't ask. He did ask if I had an alarm clock and I assured him I did. He told me he would see me in the morning and left.

[auburnfamilynews]

Photo by Chris Graythen/Getty Images

Ready to spend the entire month of November at Jordan-Hare?? We are! It starts here.

Yes, we’re all disappointed in how things went down in Baton Rouge, and the vast majority of the fanbase expressed some form of frustration with the way that things were handled in what very well could have been a huge road win.

Now, Auburn is back at home for the rest of the season. We’ve done all of our trips, and lost at the current #1 and #6 teams in the country. Not bad, but this team hasn’t come close to reaching its peak. With Ole Miss coming in before a bye week, this is the opportunity to start climbing the ladder. Will we do it? Find out below:

#11 Auburn (-19) vs Ole Miss (O/U 53)

(I will do this paragraph in the style of the Auburn offensive preparation)

TiGeR mOvE bAlL wElL. dOeS fOoTbAlL tHiNgS.

In all seriousness, Auburn should have no problems here, the defense will be the defense and the offense will look like they have ‘figured things out’ since the Rebels, while competent, don’t have the talent Auburn has. That normally adds up to Gus looking good. It’s just sad that the postgame will be, HEY! WE FIXED IT! No you didn’t and we will find that out in 2 weeks when we lose to Georgia by 3...ugh.

Tigers 44-17

-Drew Mac

Auburn has shown a willingness so far this season to lay the wood on bad teams despite struggles against better ones. Where Auburn has struggled in passing success rate (simply, staying ahead of the sticks), the Ole miss defense has been just as bad or worse in giving up those consistent plays. The difference is that Ole Miss also gives up a ton of explosive pass plays, while Auburn can at least do that. On the other side of the ball, the Ole Miss offense is hot garbage outside of kinda being able to run the ball, but I wouldn’t exactly say they’re good at it. Particularly, they can’t run between the tackles (95th in the country in running backs being stopped at or behind the LOS), so I fully expect the Auburn defense to beat down this Ole Miss offense. Maybe I’m missing something here, but I want a bloodletting. The Ole Miss offensive line probably isn’t good enough to hold Derrick Brown or Marlon Davidson, and I expect them to let out some frustration while running free. Also, give DJ Williams all the carries.

Auburn 41-6

-Ryan Sterritt

I think auburn is still a really good team in a league with two great teams. Ole miss is not one of those. Ole miss football is a corpse being drug around by a guy with two first names who is probably really nice and doesn’t deserve this at all.

I’m not sure what the Rebels do well, but I bet it isn’t “run the ball against incredible interior defensive lines” or “defend dynamic receivers and a quarterback who plays really well at home.” Bo Nix is all we have now. So he had better stay healthy. Looking at you offensive line.

Auburn 40, Ole Miss 12

-Son of Crow

Auburn finally returns to the friendly confines of Jordan-Hare Stadium and they ought to be pissed off about how things went last week and ready to take it out on somebody. That somebody is Ole Miss who continues to rotate QBs and has wins over Arkansas, Vanderbilt and Southeastern Louisiana this season. Auburn needs to take care of business early and give some other guys the opportunity to play. I think DJ Williams showed last week he’s a pretty capable running back and he needs all the carries to get some experience for Georgia and Bama. It appears a change on the offensive line is imminent and it’s way past time to try someone else at center and to shuffle the line up a bit. Defensively, you can’t ask for more from a unit that held LSU last week to half of their season average in points. As I said in Snap Judgments last week, after all the criticism of the offense, watch Auburn go out and score 40-45 this week.

Auburn 44, Ole Miss 17

-Will McLaughlin

Auburn returns to the Plains with another loss against another top 10 team in another hostile environment. And hoo boy people have some #takes on it. Bottom line on this Auburn team is that when they have needed to help a true freshman quarterback by effectively running the football, they have…honestly met my very low expectations. This is, after all, the same offensive line we saw collapse oh so often last season. They’re a year older, a year wiser, a year strong, and they’re still close to their ceiling in terms of ability. But hey, at least their decent at pass protection since we most definitely will have a newfound appreciation for Bo Nix if that falls apart down the stretch!

Now that I got that out of the way, let’s appreciate some things about this team. They have a championship caliber defense. Never forget them. They’ve won a lot of games for us that we aren’t competitive in without them. Y’all remember those punt coverage issues? Those got fixed. Pass coverage and tackling has been outstanding. And DJ Williams! The running back who probably is best suited to start regardless of Boobee’s health did nothing to make us doubt him in Baton Rouge. Another thing to remember about this team is that they win the games that are more about us than they are about the opponent or the environment. Which brings us to game 9, the 7th of which Auburn completely dictates victory or defeat.

Keys to victory

Pass to set up the run. Not a popular theory among football purists, but necessary with this offensive line. They simply can’t move the line of scrimmage straight up. So loosen a defense up early and often. Yards on the ground will suddenly appear!

Get Bo Nix the hell out of there if we’re up 17 points or more in the 4th quarter. We’ve got to have him healthy.

I’d like to see better play on the outside defensively at the line of scrimmage. Ole Miss is gonna want to run often. It would be nice to see our defensive ends/Buck play within themselves and not get lost in the shuffle.

We saw what DJ Williams did with 10 carries. Let’s give him closer to 20. Feed this kid and get him comfortable with the speed of the game. He’ll be a difference maker the rest of the way.

Give us something, anything in the way of creativity in the pass route progressions. Bo Nix is a freshman, but he’s been at his best when we run pace and just let him play ball. It’s clear he’s overthinking things and it’s not helping. Sometimes simplifying things for a player isn’t so much about the playbook, but more about attitude. Let him see the whole field (I do not believe he currently is being coached to read the entire field), and live with the decisions he makes. It may result in a turnover. It also may result in the maturation of a generational talent at quarterback who was thrust into this job too soon because Kelly Bryant ended up at Missouri.

Auburn is going to win the football game, convincingly. Auburn 52 Ole Miss 10

-Josh Black

At the beginning of the season, I said that Auburn could be a very good football team and go 6-6. Auburn could also be a very poor football team and still go 6-6. The schedule was that difficult. 6 easy wins, 6 difficult wins. Here we are, 8 games in, and Auburn is 2-2 in those toss-up games. Yes, in hindsight, A&M is not the juggernaut we believed they’d be in August. But Auburn played 4 tough opponents, all away from home, and won two of those games.

That being said, the current perception of this team is based on one important thing: Auburn beats the tar out of lesser opponents. Auburn scored 21 points in the first 6 minutes against Mississippi State (which I believe is the fastest Auburn has put up 21 points since at least 1995) on their way to a 56-23 rout. Auburn dominated Arkansas 51-10 in a brunch game. The perception of Auburn depends on Auburn running out of the tunnel Saturday night and absolutely obliterating Ole Miss. Auburn has to start fast and finish strong. We all know the defense will do their job. That’s not who I’m worried about: this offense has to have another game similar to Mississippi State. Bo Nix has to be great. Not to get the win; there’s a large enough talent game between the two schools that Auburn could beat Ole Miss playing their C+ game. No, Nix needs the confidence. 4 home games remain. No more hostile crowds, no more travel, no more new stadiums. Bo Nix has 4 more chances to become Auburn’s future star quarterback. That has to begin Saturday night. There’s a portion of this fan base that believes there is a large conspiracy about how a coaching staff, with all their jobs on the line, would deliberately start a quarterback that wasn’t as good as the backup. Unfortunately Bo needs to go out there and prove them all wrong.

Likewise, Gus Malzahn needs to call a great game. The fans need it, yes, but the team needs it more. Trust your guys - all of them! We have a great team with great players! Trust them. You trusted them against Mississippi State and Arkansas and Texas A&M and Oregon. Trust them again against Ole Miss. And then against against Georgia.

Everyone assumed Auburn would beat Ole Miss at the start of the year. When that happens, and you lose the way you lost against Florida and LSU, you need to beat the opponents you’re supposed to beat. And you need to win big.

Auburn 59, Ole Miss 14

-Josh Dub

This is Auburn’s true trap game of the year. Against Mississippi State, Auburn had the revenge angle to stay focused. Auburn will always be ready to play when facing Arkansas under Malzahn. However, Ole Miss is the exact type of opponent that could trip up the Tigers. Facing a not awful team following an emotional loss on the road, a very big game looming in the distance and some drama off the field with a well liked teammate leaving has all the makings of what could be a frustrating night in Jordan Hare....

But not against this defense. Derrick Brown, Marlon Davidson and this crew will show up ready to go. The Rebels strength is running the football something this defense takes pride in shutting down. I fully expect this senior laden unit to come out & set the tone early. It will be up to the offense to respond. I think they do, behind a big game from DJ Williams and a much better performance from Bo Nix, Auburn pulls away and wins comfortably to setup another possible top 10 matchup in two weeks. Auburn 48 Ole Miss 17

-AU Nerd

Ole Miss isn’t very good on defense outside of Benito Jones, and that should help Auburn get right on offense. Jones will definitely be a menace, especially against the weakness of Auburn’s OL. This needs to be a game for Shivers and Schwartz to attack the perimeter early to open things up for DJ Williams later in the game. Not to mention that we could really use another solid game from Jordan-Hare Bo Nix.

On defense, I worry about Ole Miss using the same philosophy. There were able to move the ball well early on Texas A&M by using their speed on the perimeter. Auburn must tackle well in space, something they’ve done well all season.

If Auburn starts fast, we should get a full helping of Jordan-Hare at Night in an absolute bludgeoning. If Auburn starts slow on offense, I don’t think it will take much for the crowd to get frustrated. Look for Auburn to defer if they win the toss, get an early stop, and try to take a shot at a big play down the field. Hit those checkboxes and covering shouldn’t be a problem.

Auburn 37, Ole Miss 13 (Auburn covers, under)

-James Jones

Time for some of the fans to calm down. Gatewood’s gone, we lost a really frustrating game to LSU, and the sky is falling even though about 2-3 teams might be undefeated with our schedule. Ole Miss is the perfect medicine for this situation. It’s been explored that Gus knows how to beat up on some bad SEC teams, and he’ll take the time to try and get Bo Nix right against the Rebels. We’re back at home, where Bo’s been good, and we’re going to get into rhythm before the bye week and Georgia. Auburn essentially has two games left in the season that really matter, and this one ain’t one of them unless we lose or win really close. We’re not going to do either of those. The LSU loss galvanized the team two years ago. I have no idea if it’s going to do that again in 2019, but it won’t matter this weekend against Ole Miss. D.J. Williams goes nuts with about 20 carries and a couple of scores, while Bo gets back on track a little bit and tosses three touchdown passes with no turnovers. Auburn gets to 7-2 and heads into the bye week to figure out the backup quarterback situation.

Tigers 48, Rebels 10.

-Jack Condon

from College and Magnolia - All Posts https://www.collegeandmagnolia.com/2019/11/1/20943228/staff-picks-11-auburn-vs-ole-miss

[wordtoadina]

Addiction

It's 7:03pm and it's starting to get dark outside. I won't be able to see much of anything around here in about an hour. Thank God it's the middle of the summer, at least I can leave the windows open at night. The refrigerator only has a carton of spoiled milk and an open can soda I've been making the most of for the past two days.

My mom hasn't been home since Thursday. Just like all the other nights, tonight is no different.

I take the last sip of the soda and toss it in the garbage. I'll grab something to eat once I head out. Even though I don't quite know when that'll be. Dude from the corner hasn't whistled for me in a while.

"Mr. Rigsby" a voice interrupted.

I fell asleep in the lobby, waiting for my mom to be signed out. This was the third time she's been in rehab and hopefully her last. I came to take her out for lunch. Today is her birthday. I looked up at the lady who called me.

"ID?" she asked.

I went into my wallet and the family picture I had of us from years ago slipped out. I honestly haven't seen her smile like that since. Those were the good days. Before I could put it back, I heard a familiar laugh.

"How do you still have that photo?" my mom asked. She laughed again.

I greeted her with a hug. "You'd be surprised at what stuff I still have" I  laughed back.

She looked good, considering. Her sand brown hair was brushed back into a neat ponytail. Her skin with a slight glow. The drugs used to drain every inch of her beauty. It used to be troubling to see her high. Sometimes, it still is. Images like that don't just go away.

"Ronny called to wish me a happy birthday" she said, once we got in the car.

I sucked my teeth. "Fuck that nigga straight up" I said. She sighed. "I wish you'd stop mentioning him to be all the way honest with you!" Ronny was my dad's best friend. He was also responsible for getting my mother hooked when my dad passed away.

"He means well T" she said.

After her first program, he started coming back around, which placed her back in the program a second and now third time. I blame him, still. "He means well? What man is okay with being behind the destruction of a woman with a kid? Bruh never meant well and never will so stop fucking with him!" I said, raising my voice.

"He calls from time to time checking on me" she said. "Since you don't visit much"

I laughed so hard. Who does she think is paying for her to get clean? Again. Damn sure not Ronny. "I can't drive out here as much as you'd like. I don't have time for that. Someone has to pay for your way through another wasted program."

She rolled the window down and lit her cigarette. She stared into the clouds rubbing her head.

"Terrell this isn't easy. I'm trying, okay?" she sighed.

"Aight ma" I said, reaching for her free hand. She gripped mine back.

We turned into her favorite diner not too far from the facility. She ordered waffles and macaroni. I ordered pasta with spaghetti sauce and garlic knots.

"T, you don't want your food?" she asked.

My mom was high, dancing around what she considered to be a living room. It hardly had room for a loveseat and coffee table, but it was hers. She didn't care.

"Ma I'm good" I said, checking my watch.

"A cup of noodles and slice bread is too poor for you? Starve yourself then" she shrugged, still prancing around with powder on her nose.

"I just stopped by to wish you a happy 31st" I said, getting up. I gave her a hug and left.

Four years later, and I always eat "noodles and bread" on her special day. She never notices, not that she would know even know why.

The drive back was quiet. She stared out the window the entire time. I don't know if it was to keep from arguing or because she wasn't too happy about having to go back. I pulled up to the building and got out to open her door.

"At least I raised somewhat of a gentleman" she smiled.

I could say otherwise but I smirked instead.

"How do you afford this nice car anyway T?" she asked, looking back at the car.

I drove a bluestone BMW 5 series. It had dark tints and blacked out rims. The black and grey interior was customed with my intials embroidered on the head rest. It wasn't hard on the eyes so I didn't drive it everywhere, to stay on the safe side.

"I work ma" I laughed. "Money doesn't grow on trees"

She looked at me stale faced. I knew for a while that she might have had an idea that I was dealing but it wasn't for me to tell her. I'd prefer she didn't know but after Ronny ran into me one night on the block, there wasn't much to deny. I'm sure he wasn't in a rush to tell her I'm the one he cops from though, his bitch ass. If she knew any good, she'd get rid of him. Better her than me. I'd hate to have to put him six feet under. I'm sure my pops would love that.

She signed herself back in. "Take care of yourself son" she said.

"I'm out here, where you need to be. Focus on getting better." I said, kissing her on the forehead.

It's crazy how many times I've watched my mom leave. Even at 19, it still gets to me.

My phone rang. I looked down to see a text alert from Sega. He's had me under his wing since I was 14. We've never been big on labels but he was like a second father to me.

Boss: U still in Ashbrook?  Im headed back now Boss: Hit the dropbox for me Bet

In my five years of knowing Sega, he's not one to trust many. He had two right hand men. Cliff, who got pinched last year after his girlfriend was pillow talking to an informant and Kilo, who got caught out in Bayway with tons of weight on him. He hasn't been able to pay up since. His only saving grace was his sister is Sage's baby mother. Saved by the bloodline. It makes me wonder how many times I've been saved at the likes of my dad. Hell, even my mom. Or vice versa.

"Get the fuck on Nicole!" he yelled.

I heard a voice say, coming from my mother's apartment. Listening to the tone of his voice, I knew she owed him money.

"Come on man. You know I'll give it right back. I had to turn my lights on." she sighed. It had been two weeks since they were on.

"Nah I'm not falling for that right back bullshit. Last time you owed me, you never paid the full $60. Luckily your boy came through for me." the vvoice said.

Sounds of her rummaging through her bag echoed off the empty walls.

"Okay okay. What if I give you $7 now? You can get him to run off the rest?" she asked.

As I got closer, I could hear him laughing but not in a funny way. He seemed to be irritated. At this point, I was too. "I'm not getting Sonny caught up in your mess, Nicole. You're tripping!" he yelled.

The only person who called me Sonny was the dude from the corner. I stood in the hallway completely taken back. I wasn't sure what was more upsetting, my mom throwing me under the bus or figuring out who she was throwing me under the bus to.

"I know you got him on the block, Sega." my mom said.

He sucked his teeth.

"I'm trying to do right by your boy off the strength of him making a few collects for me but we can part ways if you're going to keep jeffin' with me about my money." he said.

"Don't do me like that" she whined.

Nobody wants to hear their parent begging for anything, especially not drugs. I was near the door when he walked out. He noticed me standing there.

"Wassup Sonny?" he dapped me up. "You good?" I nodded my head, not sure what to make of the conversation I heard. "I might need you later today. I'll whistle for you." I nodded again. He dapped me up a second time sliding a $20 bill in my hand. "And get you something to eat" he said.

An hour later, I pulled up to the Briggs, where Sega meets his plug. The place was gated, well secured, and had cameras from every angle of the three-story white bricked house. The community alone read "rich people only". I entered in the code and the heavy plated gate slid open.

I parked the car and put my stash in the safety box I had installed under the floormat. I reached over, took my gun out the glove compartment, and got out. Dude at the door tried to say I couldn't go inside with my piece. I laughed, and looked around for Joey.

"He's good G!" he yelled, waving dude away from the top of the stairs. He came down in a bathrobe and slippers.

Joey is your typical white boy who learned how to whip up every drug possible in his parent's basement, out of boredom, because they were always out of town working. His sandy beach hair fell every which way. He was the most sloppiest yet put together person I've met. I didn't know if to take him serious or finesse him for everything he had.

"I see you're still on your Hugh Heff shit, huh?" I joked, as we headed to his office.

"This is grown man shit" he dapped me and laughed.

I took the bands of money out my pocket and sat them on the desk. "This is grown man shit" I said.

"Strictly business?" he smirked.

"Only business" I answered.

Sega knew I wasn't too crazy about plugging with Joey. He seemed to be a hit away from losing product. His whole operation could be easily ran through, by a bunch of bitches at that. If the right one got word of how loopy he was, he'd be wiped out for sure. We haven't had any issues with getting product on time though so since it was still a go for Sega,  it was still a go for me.

"Well let's get to it" Joey said and placed the money in the machine. It counted 5,000. He nodded an okay. I grabbed the case of coke off the desk and dapped him up. "Be cool out there."

"Indeed" I said.

We’re set

Boss: Pull up in 30

Bet

Knowing Sega, he meant at least 45 minutes so I stopped to grab a beer and a pack of Newports. I walked out and noticed a girl at the gas pump staring. I ignored her and hopped back in the car.

A horn beeped. Twice. Who the hell is this?

As I pulled out the parking spot, I drove along side her car and rolled down my window. Her pretty caramel skin was chilled by the evening air, with her hair covering enough to keep her warm but not enough to hide the freckles that sprinkled across the middle of her face. I'd never seen her before. She stepped from around her car. The wiff of her scent made my dick jump. She smelled of honey and rose petals.

"Do I know you?" I asked.

"No" she blushed.

"So what'd you honk for?" I asked.

She shifted her weight like I was making her nervous. "You deal, right?

"Deal what, cards?" I laughed hard. Her body language wasn't alarming so I didn't get the vibe that it was a setup but her straight forward answer caught me off guard.

"I know Sega..." she sad, before I cut her off.

Not many knew him by that name. "You should've said that first" I laughed. I was in the clear for sure. "What do you need?"

Her face warmed up a bit. "You have a blunt or two?" She asked. She seemed uncomfortable but whatever it was, it wasn't because of me.

"I don't" I shook my head. "But I know a guy.."

The freckles on her face tightened a little. After I gave her his number, she got back in her car. Before I could get her name, or number for that matter, she drove off. I was left with the smell of honey and rose petals lingering. Maybe she'll sound familiar to Sega.

When I pulled in his driveway, he was outside smoking. Lena wasn't really the "blunts in the house" type. We talked for a little, about visiting my mom. I mentioned her still being in contact with Ronny. The thought of black balling him came to mind. One phone call would shut down all of his connects in the street.

"I appreciate you hitting the drop earlier" Sega said, putting out his blunt.

"You know that's nothing" I waved him of. He had sent me the last few times to re-up. Had he asked someone else, they would've tensed up. I didn't think much of it. Work is work.

"I still remember sending you on a few collects when you stayed on Homestead" he said.

That place was far from home. I knew it and he knew it but it was the only place I knew I was safe. There, and on his couch. Dude from the corner whistled for me. That's always a quick few bucks to last me some days. My mother finally had the lights cut back on so I didn't have to worry about leeaving the windows open.

You'd think with the government checks she got from dad's SSI, we'd be living prettier. It appeared to be a nice life if you were on the outside looking in. We stayed in a nice sized two bedroom, one bathroom apartment. But it was practically empty. She sold majority of the furniture and blew  every penny on drugs or debts she owed for drugs. There really was no difference. I keep telling her that shit isn't going to bring him back.

"Wassup Sonny?" dude asked.

I never knew his name. In my head, he was always "dude from the corner". I figured the less I asked, the more he'd whistle for me. Everyone else was in his face for a way in, while I just wanted a way out. If scaring a few crackheads and popping up on a few coke fiends here and there kept me fed, I was with it.

"Wassup"  I nodded.

"Let's take a drive" he said, walking to his car.

For dude to be a drug dealer, he was clean. His hair was cut low with a light fade, tapered in the back. His chain was a plain cuban link. He drove a black on black Range Rover with classic rims. At one point, he ran a gentleman's sports bar. Now he used it to flush the drug money.

Nothing about his husttle was fancy. I respected that.

We hopped in the car and drove for about 20 minutes. We pulled up to an apartment building that was high rise, like mine. Dude showed me a photo, told me how much was owed, and gave the apartment number. Before I got out, he handed me the 9mm. It was always an empty clip.

"Dad, please forgive me!" I whispered, to myself. I knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" the voice asked.

"The IRS" I said, holding back my laugh.

"The IR-" he said, slowly opening the door.

I pushed it all the way, knocking him down. He struggled to get back on his feet. Another voice yelled. I turned to see his girlfriend frozen in place. With the gun at his head, I lifted him up by the collar of his shirt. "Where's the $120?" I asked.

"I have it" he said, still shook. "It's in my wallet on the counter!"I nudged him in the direction of the kitchen. He walked over and took the cash out. It was only $80.

"Don't play with me" I placed the gun back near his head.

"Ok.. Okay. Hold on." he studdered, reaching in his pants pocket. "I got it!" He handed me two twenty dollar bills.

"Next time it won't be knocking on the door" I grabbed the money and left.

I lowkey owed Sega my life. He put me on, even when he didn't want to. And most of the niggas he had under him would never understand that.

He started breaking down the coke.

"Kilo asked me to move a few packs to make back the rest of what he owes me" he said. I chuckled. "But you know he started back selling bud, right?" he laughed. I chuckled again.

I nodded my head. "He hit me up the other day and told me" A set of freckles flashed in my head. "Cause I ran his number to some girl at the gas station on my way over here."

"But Lena didn't cop plea for him this time" he said.

She had been on his back about cutting her brother out of the rotation. Business was business though. Kilo knew that.

"She should know you can't sweep that under the rug" I said.

"You feel me?" he laughed.

"Speaking of knowing you.. Shorty at the gas station said she knew you." I said.

"She knew me?" he asked, his face puzzled.

"She asked me if I had a few blunts on me. That's how I ended up passing her Kilo's number. Knew you by Sega, too."  He still looked confused. "Brown skin, golden brown hair, freckles." Then his face lit up.

"Oh shit... Domo?" he said.

By the way he said her name, I knew they had history. The kind of history I was unsure of. How his face lit up, I wouldn't be surprised if he smashed.

"I haven't jeffed with her in a minute" he said. "It's been months since she copped from me." My face then being puzzled. He caught my confusion and nodded. "Yeah. She used to hit me up faithfully."

I don't know why I was so shocked. Maybe because I thought she was too pretty to pass off as someone who did coke. But then again, not everyone looks like the skeletons in their closet. She didn't even smell of sin. Damn.

"But she's got a good head on her shoulders" he said, interrupting my thoughts. "And not like that" he said.

I laughed. At least they didn't fuck.