#because i’d have to choose between car insurance or a phone

[chucklechampion]

evening dedicated to The Horrors

[incognitajones]

Hey @riflegoespurr! Your RCSS gift was originally a lot longer (before I realized it was really just a PWP trying to expand) so, in case you’re interested, here are a few scenes from the original version!

*

“Tell me you didn’t hit him.”

Jyn sighed, hoping her phone mic wouldn’t pick up the sound. “No, I didn’t hit him, Bodhi. I do have some self-control.”

His silence was expressively skeptical. She flicked on her turn signal and prepared to make an attempt to merge with the unending sluggish stream of traffic on the freeway. Bodhi had made her promise to call him immediately after the chemistry read, and she was working on improving her track record of keeping her promises to him, so she’d dialled his number as soon as she drove off the studio parking lot.

The engine rattled alarmingly as she tried to accelerate into a shrinking gap between two hulking SUVs. She pushed her foot down on the gas pedal and prayed it wouldn’t crap out on her today. If she had to take her car in for servicing, there was no way it would pass another safety; it had barely scraped by two years ago.

She desperately needed a fucking paycheque—and she’d just set fire to what had looked like her best prospect in months. More self-sabotaging behaviour at its finest from Jyn Erso.

“Then what did you do?”

That was the problem with a loyal soul like Bodhi, who’d refused to give up on her even after she’d bombed all her bridges and set fire to her relationships with everyone else. He’d seen her at her worst, when she hit rock bottom and was still digging, and still chose to keep her as a friend. He knew her too well.

She admitted, “I threw the script at him.”

More silence on the other end of the line.  

“It was just a few pages!” Jyn defended herself. “But the prick was being so fucking condescending. Kept giving me helpful little suggestions.”

“He’s a very good actor, with the awards to back it up. Maybe he was actually trying to be helpful,” Bodhi said dryly.

“He doesn’t know this character,” Jyn snapped. “I do.” Her throat clogged with suppressed tears. She took one hand off the steering wheel to grab her water bottle and swig a mouthful of warm, stale-tasting water.

Even at her lowest point, she’d hung on to a car because you had to have one in LA, but all she could afford was a ten-year-old Honda Civic. It didn’t have Bluetooth, so she had to leave her phone in the cupholder on speaker mode and shout. The air conditioning was less than effective too, and a dew of sweat had already beaded at Jyn’s hairline. She cracked the window in hope of a trickle of fresh air. A choking wave of exhaust-scented air hit her in the face and she closed it again. She’d take a shower when she got home, which in this traffic would be at least an hour from now.

She was an actress—and a good one, no matter what people said—she ought to be able to pull off seeming calm. But her voice still shook slightly as she said, “Honestly, Bodhi, I know people say this kind of shit all the time, but it feels like Rose was written for me. I’d give anything to play her. And not just because I’m about two months away from being homeless.”

“Don’t say that,” Bodhi chided her automatically. “You know you can move in with me if you need to.”

Jyn grimaced. Bodhi was an angel, yes, and her best friend, but she didn’t think she could share living space with his collection of stray cats. Her allergies would object strongly.

“Are you sure you lost the part? What did they say after the read?”

“Yes, I’m sure. It doesn’t matter how well I did on the solo audition, they’re going to pick someone who can connect with the male lead. And it was glaringly obvious he couldn’t stand me. Cassian Andor is the box office draw, I’m the washed-up risk who’ll send their insurance premiums skyrocketing. Who do you think they’re going to choose?” The Range Rover in front of her slammed on its brakes and she shoved her foot down, jerking the car to a stop with a squeal of overheated metal.

“Draven’s known for being unconventional—”

“Not that unconventional,” Jyn laughed bitterly. “Besides, I didn’t even tell you the worst part. A producer who was sitting in on the read saw me lose it.”

“Oh, Jyn.” Bodhi’s voice was infinitely kind.

Jyn didn’t understand how he could still have any sympathy for her when she did this to herself. She’d told herself over and over not to be so impulsive—just keep her mouth shut, smile, and nod. That was what it took to have a career as an actress in Hollywood. Jyn had used up all her allowed quota of rebelliousness long before she turned twenty-one.

She swallowed and kept going. Maybe if she told Bodhi the whole story she’d feel a little better. “Yeah, Mon Mothma was there. Apparently Alliance is backing the film. So she’s in the corner of the room, all serene in a white pantsuit and the most enormous pearls I’ve ever seen, while I scream at Cassian fucking Andor.” She sighed. “So I’m definitely shit-canned. They’ll cast the latest teenaged CW starlet and Andor will walk all over her.”

“Still, it’s not the end of the world,” Bodhi argued. “You’ve got that audition for the Christmas movie next week—”

“You know I’m not Hallmark material, Bodhi. Maia only got me that because the director knew Saw years ago.”

Traffic started moving again at last and Jyn shoulder-checked, wondering if she should try to change lanes. “Anyway, enough about my career crashing and burning. How did your shoot today go?”

“Fine. I think they’ve decided to kill me off, though. I keep hearing rumours from the crew about a death scene coming up.”

“Shit, that sucks. Still, on your show that’s not necessarily the end.” Bodhi was finally getting some buzz for a minor role in a supernatural drama and Jyn had been hoping the show might move him up to a recurring character. He could still be that, even as a ghost.

Her phone buzzed and jumped in the cup holder, and she looked down to see a new text notification on the lock screen. It was from Draven. Fuck.

“Just got a text, Bodhi.” She grabbed the phone and swiped her thumb across the screen. “Wanna bet on whether they make up some transparent excuse, or come right out and say it’s because Andor hates me?”

He laughed. “My money’s on something meaningless about deciding to go in a different direction.”

Jyn didn’t answer. She was staring at the text on the screen with her mouth open. A blaring horn startled her into pressing her foot on the gas, and she almost rear-ended the Range Rover in front before slamming on the brakes.

“Jyn? What did they say? Jyn?”

“Draven still wants me! They’re offering me Rose!” She kept glancing back down at the words, unable to make herself believe it was true. Maybe she should screenshot it. Had he sent it to the wrong number by mistake? They’d had a couple of other actors in to read today as well; she knew because she’d passed one of them in the lobby.

Your read today was impressive. We’d like to offer you the part of Rose. If you accept, please reply to this text and have your agent get in touch with Alliance asap to arrange a contract signing.

Agent? Jyn held in a panicked giggle. Her last rep had let Jyn go after her spectacular downward spiral, and she was relying on an old friend who was a retired entertainment lawyer to review any contracts she was lucky enough to be offered. But Maia, like Bodhi, had stuck with Jyn through her lowest moments, and she more than deserved fifteen percent of whatever Alliance were going to pay her for this.

“That’s great, Jyn! Congratulations, I know you’re going to nail it. Just please, promise that you’ll try to get along with Andor. You don’t want to make an enemy out of him.”

“I promise, Bodhi,” Jyn vowed.

She could do this. She was going to be a professional. She would not antagonize or make faces at or be rude to Cassian “I’m an Oscar Winner” Andor, and not just because she desperately needed the job. She was meant for this role and it was made for her. She knew she could be great in this movie, and if it had anything like the kind of commercial success Draven’s track record predicted, it might actually resurrect her career.

*

“Tell me you didn’t offer her the part, Davits.” Cassian drummed his fingers on the leather seat.

“I don’t owe you an explanation, Cassian, but yes, I did. And she accepted.”

Draven’s tone was as cool and unperturbed as ever, and Cassian gritted his teeth. He owed the man a lot—most of his success, if he were being honest—and he wanted this film, but he didn’t know if he could stand working with that arrogant, aggressive piece of work for six weeks of location shooting in the middle of nowhere.

“No, you don’t owe me an explanation, but what if I tell you hiring her means I walk? I don’t see how I can work with her. Rose is a brilliant character, and Jyn Erso is a washed-up nepotism success who had one great role and then wasted her talent on getting wasted. She doesn’t deserve something like this falling into her lap.”

“If you feel that way, then do what you have to do. But I didn’t make the decision lightly. And for what it’s worth, Mon observed all the auditions and she agreed with this casting choice as well.”

Shit. If Draven had gone to the trouble of ensuring Mon Mothma would back his decision, Cassian’s chances of leveraging his approval of the female lead were a lot slimmer. He ground his teeth again.

The sound of keys tapping on Draven’s laptop came over the line, and a low murmur as he covered his headset and spoke to his assistant. Then his voice came back on. “You know how long I’ve wanted to make this film, Cassian. And I want to make it with you; there’s no-one else I’d rather have play Lopez. But if you can’t trust my judgment, we’ll have to part ways.”

Cassian reached for a chilled bottle of water and twisted the top off. “Maybe I just don’t understand why you hired the one actor who treated me like shit.”

“She was also the only one who challenged you,” Draven snapped. “With her, you were engaged, reacting the way Lopez ought to. You barely paid any attention to the other actors. In fact, you were on autopilot.”

“They were just chemistry reads!” Cassian protested. “They’re not supposed to be all-out efforts.”

“They still deserved more than you gave them. Don’t get complacent, Cassian. You’re my first choice, but you’re not the only choice. And from what I saw today, Jyn Erso will get under your skin, exactly as Rose ought to.”

“I’ll have to think about it,” Cassian said.

“Understood,” Draven said equably. “You have until Monday to decide. I can’t wait any longer than that to recast if you choose to back out. We can probably still get Solo if he hasn’t signed on to that superhero project yet.”

That was a low blow. Draven knew how much Cassian loathed Solo and his completely lax, unprepared style of acting. The man just showed up and did whatever came into his head. He’d probably get along great with Jyn Erso.

Even if this hadn’t been a killer script, one of Antoc Merrick’s exquisitely drawn character studies of morally conflicted people, Cassian felt like he was the only actor for this role. He’d broken in as a child actor in Draven’s first feature-length project; he’d transitioned from teen heart-throb into legitimate actor at twenty-one, thanks to the man’s visionary Oscar-winning ensemble piece; now it was time for him to move into the next phase of his career. And he wanted to do that with Draven once again.

Until now, he hadn’t cared that he’d be the secondary lead in a film that was built around the character of Rose. That was fine with Cassian; with the right actor as Rose, it would be a great film. But it had to be the right actor, because whoever it was would set the tone for their onscreen relationship, and the whole film.

Apparently, Draven wanted that to be hostile and aggressive. Well, he was the director and it was his call, as long as the studio agreed. Cassian might have tried going to them and pointing out all the potential problems with signing loose cannon Jyn Erso. But if Mothma had already been persuaded to sign off on her, it didn’t sound like Alliance would object.

He still wanted this role. If he had to put up with Jyn Erso for it… he’d manage. Somehow.

“Fine,” Cassian said curtly. “I’m in. Send Melshi the script and the contract by Monday morning.”

*

“You wanted a meeting. Here I am.”

Jyn Erso didn’t look comfortable on the gray leather couch in his office, though Cassian couldn't pinpoint why. She certainly wasn’t fidgeting; with her hands resting in her lap as neatly as a deportment class, she sat upright and stared straight at him.

“Thanks for coming.” He held grimly tight to his manners. “Can I get you a coffee? Water?”

“I’m good.”

To give himself something to do while he tried to calm down, Cassian went through the motions of brewing an americano on the little machine in the corner of his office. He tried to be subtle about watching Jyn, though she was well aware of his scrutiny judging from the way she was scrolling through her phone with an air of total disinterest.

She was dressed to unimpress in typical L.A. casual style that didn’t give any signal of how much it cost, although her torn jeans looked a bit more thrift store find than Rodeo Drive distressed. With her hair pulled into a messy braid and no visible makeup, she looked even younger than her twenty-four years. He wondered again how she’d managed to waste every opportunity she’d had showered on her as the golden child of two 1980s Hollywood stars. She hadn’t even shown any interest in acting until she was in her late teens, and she’d never had any formal training that he knew of.

Finally, Cassian couldn’t put off talking to her any longer. He had to try and see if they could salvage a civil working relationship. He sat down in the mid-century chair across from the couch and took a fortifying gulp of espresso before smiling at her as charmingly as he could.

She looked up from her phone, but her eyes were blank and cool. Once again, she gave no reaction, no slight softening or any hint of interest in what he wanted. How the hell was he supposed to act with someone who didn’t give him anything to react to?

“You made some interesting choices the other day at the read,” he said neutrally. “Can you tell me a little bit about how you see Rose and Lopez connecting in that scene?”

“They don’t,” Jyn said. “That’s the whole point. She doesn’t like or trust him, she just needs him to get what she wants.”

“At the start, yes.” Cassian focused on keeping his jaw and shoulders relaxed. “But have you read the whole script? They end up relying on each other. If their relationship didn’t have an arc, it wouldn’t be much of a film.”

She bristled, her shoulders tightening and eyes narrowing. “Of course I read the whole script. This isn’t some kind of buddy-buddy action flick, though. Rose has no reason to trust a cop.”

“And Lopez has no reason to help an ex-con,” Cassian said. “But he does.”

Jyn rolled her eyes so hard he could almost hear them rattle in her head. “Yeah, because he’s trying to make up for his own shitty past choices.”

“That’s part of it, but not all,” Cassian disagreed. And then he realized how stupid it was to be debating the motivation of his character with her. It didn’t matter what she thought, as long as Draven was satisfied with his work. Cassian couldn’t let her get under his skin again.

He lifted his cup to his mouth, took a long sip, and swallowed deliberately before gently setting the cup down on the table between them. She watched him unblinking. Cassian’s unease reminded him of the time he’d visited Sicily, constantly aware that he was on the slopes of an active volcano. Her cold composure was deceptive; he’d seen the unpredictable depths of fire beneath once already. He didn’t want to be around for another eruption.

“So how exactly do you plan on this working?” he asked finally. “Are you going to do nothing but either glare at me or ignore me for the whole six weeks of shooting? It won’t be what’s best for the film, but if that’s what you want, fine.”

“This isn’t a romcom,” she said dismissively. “There are no love scenes, thank God, and we don’t have to like each other to play opposite each other. We don’t even have to pretend to get along, at least until the press tour starts. Just do your job and I’ll do mine.”

He shrugged. “As long as you’re sure you can. This is a big part. I’m offering my help, you might want to take me up on it.”

“Is that a threat?” she snapped, pushing up to her feet and glaring down at him. Somehow all five foot two of her managed to seem far more intimidating than she ought to be, puffing up like an aggressive cat. “If you’re trying to push me out, go ahead and do your worst, but I’m not quitting.”

“No, it’s not a threat. But you need this role. You’re not going to have another opportunity like it, if you screw it up.”

“I’m aware,” she said, her voice dangerously calm, her fingers curled almost into stiff claws at her side and her green-gold eyes boring into his. The volcano was rumbling now, tremors shaking under his feet. He didn’t know whether it was more dangerous to challenge her by maintaining eye contact or to look away.

“Then why are you being so fucking childish?” he snapped.

Her eyes blazed, her hands flexed. Cassian thought she was actually going to take a swing at him, or maybe pick up the geode paperweight on the table and chuck it at his head. Then suddenly, she deflated; something in her backed down and retreated, maybe because of her own self-interest or common sense returning. Her temper subsided slowly. He could almost see her force it back into its ill-concealed hiding place.

“Don’t be so bloody condescending and we won’t have an issue,” she said. “Maybe I haven’t been acting since I was six, but I have enough experience that I’m not interested in being pushed around. You have to be able to trust your scene partner to work with them, and right now I don’t trust you.”

She didn’t trust him? That was rich, considering the way she’d bulldozed over every one of his lines in their read.

“I’m not going to be anyone’s doormat, no matter how many awards you have on that ego shelf.” She jerked her chin at the tasteful assortment of statuettes and plaques on the teak credenza behind his desk. “Draven chose me for the role, even if you don’t like it. So you can lump it.”

Cassian leaned back, crossed his arms over his chest and stared up at her. Jyn Erso wasn’t about to back down from any confrontation, that was obvious. He could finally understand why Draven saw Rose in her stubborn persistence.

Well, it should be an interesting experience. Cassian would come out of it with a solid role under his belt and a few more award nominations, or else a front row seat to Jyn Erso’s next self-destructive meltdown.

“Then I’ll see you in a few weeks.” He got to his feet and held out his hand.

She eyed him sceptically, but finally stepped closer, took his hand in her small, disconcertingly calloused grip and shook. He constructed the façade of a smile and when she flashed a sharp, bared-teeth grin at him, it cracked into a real one. The woman was incorrigible.

She blinked, tilting her head as though she were puzzled, and something he hadn’t seen before flickered in her hazel eyes. He became aware their hands were still linked.

“Cassian?” His PA tapped on the doorframe and widened the gap in the door enough to lean inside. “Your three o'clock is here.”

She glanced at Melshi, breaking the connection between their eyes, and jerked her hand out of his. The moment shattered. 

[comprised-of-magpies]

Some safety & survival tips

This isn’t something that I’d normally post, but with college starting I thought I’d share some tips I’ve gathered over the years for staying safe (edit: I was informed a lot of these are basic knowledge, but I’ll share anyway because you never know)

if a room in your house randomly smells like fish, check the outlets, melted plastic often gives off a fish odor and unchecked could start an electrical fire

don’t swerve for deer and risk you or your car, hit it, with the proof of hitting it insurance can help cover the damage (edit: sorry, I don’t mean to encourage killing an animal, and I know the deer can do some hefty damage, this is just if your options are swerving full speed into a ditch/other car, or hitting the deer, the deer might be a better option. obv if you think you’ll be fine swerving out of the way, do that)

speaking of ^, if you see a deer on the road and it runs off in time, keep going slow and stay on the lookout, there’s more often than not more than just one deer and you never know if it’ll jump into the road

however, swerve for a moose, you’re going to hit the legs and then you have 1500 lbs coming thru your windshield

if you’re in a dark, unfamiliar area, keep the keys handy, for one the key itself can easily be used as a weapon, two if you set off a car alarm it might grab someone’s attention if you’re in danger, or at least deter someone threatening you

try not to be wearing heels if you know you’ll be in the situation above. first of all, everyone knows it’s hard to run in heels, so an opportunist will likely target someone that won’t as easily get away. secondly, it just hurts to run in them. I was out past 10pm walking several blocks to where I parked my car and noticed two guys tailing me, and while my heels were thick and only about 4-5 inches, running a block to my car in sheer terror left my ankles beyond sore the next day, and I can only imagine how catastrophic it would’ve been if my foot got caught in a hole or if my ankle twisted.

if the water retreats quickly and farther than normal, pack it up and run, that’s a sign of an oncoming tsunami

stranded in the cold? don’t stop moving. shaking and shivering is good, that’s the body’s way of trying to stay warm, if you suddenly stop shivering, it means your body has given up and you’re past the point of it being able to warm itself. don’t let someone take their clothes off either in the cold. this sounds weird and obvious, but when you’re exposed to hypothermia-inducing conditions for so long, your nerves get fried, and you start thinking you’re boiling alive and don’t contain rational thought anymore

if you haven’t eaten or drank anything for a period of a couple days, pace yourself when food/water is available. If you consume too much immediately after starving, that’s a massive shock to your system. When concentration camp survivors were freed, they were given too much food for their malnourished bodies to process, and that’s fatal.

if vomit/poop is like black tar or coffee grounds, see a doctor, that’s a sign of internal bleeding (obv periods for girls are different, if menstrual blood is like coffee grounds there’s a good chance it’s just really, really old blood, but it’s still a good idea to check in with a doctor)

a lot of predators (I know at least mountain lions/cougars) are deterred from attacking if they see your face/eyes

if you’re hitting the gas pedal, and the tachometer is moving, and the car is not, you’re hydroplaning. Your first instinct is to hit the brakes. DON’T HIT THE BRAKES. Your best bet is to ride it out, gradually slow down, try and let other cars know what’s going on, pull over and calm down.

car windows are strongest in the middle, aim for the edges or corners

911 should work anywhere (even other countries), SIM card or not, for free, so don’t waste time scrambling for change at a pay phone

if you’re in a pool and the water tastes metallic, get out, there’s an electrical short in the water

a seriously upset stomach is another sign of a heart attack

if you’re getting manhandled into a van, don’t fight fair. fight to get away as soon as possible. elbow or palm to nose, heel to toe, thumbs or elbows to eyes, knee to groin, strike the ears, nails to throat, do whatever you can and make as much noise as possible. don’t get taken to a secondary location

don’t punch the face, punch the throat. no matter how weak you are, a fist to the windpipe is enough to stun anyone

the flesh on the underside of the arm is fragile. try pinching it, it hurts right? even lightly? pinch someone there hard, and PULL. you can tear out muscle fiber and tendons doing that, and it’ll hurt. a lot.

if you think you’re in danger, call someone, or even just pretend to call someone, and then make plans, loudly. even fake plans work, just make them soon. if someone is following you, knowing that you’ll be expected somewhere/your absence will be immediately noticed is sometimes enough to ward off the very unfriendly folk.

it’s worth it to keep pepper spray, I accidentally indirectly caught myself with it when testing to make sure it works, and the smell alone made me tear up. I was coughing and blowing my nose for several hours after, so imagine spraying it in someone’s eyes, the intended use.

it’s worth shining a light in the backseat of your car, especially if you left it unlocked. the previously mentioned unfriendly folk have used the method of laying in the back waiting for you to enter the vehicle, so a couple seconds to check can’t hurt.

keep valuable looking items away from windows, this hopefully lessens the chance a burglar will choose your house

be wary of a big truck or van parked next to your driver side door, that’s also a kidnapping tactic. It’s worth it to get in on the other side—lock the doors immediately—and crawl over

be wary of someone stopping you and asking you for directions, if you’ve seen a dog, etc, as opportunists prey on your inclination to be helpful (obv it’s not bad to want to help people, but don’t be afraid to say “no, sorry” and keep moving, this is how Ted Bundy lured in his victims)

if someone grabs you, drop your body weight. rag doll, go limp. the attacker will likely have to adjust his grip. If they manage to keep ahold of you, don’t try and pry away their hands, try and grab their thumbs and BEND

if you’re aware you’re having a heart attack, force yourself to cough, that’ll keep the heart pumping

You’re better off screaming “FIRE!” than “HELP!”, as people often don’t want to get involved, which is sad and frustrating but true, but a fire involves everyone around you

if you’re struggling to light a (gas) stove, and it’s making the clicking noise but there’s no flame, wait for awhile because now there’s gas in the air that depending on how many times you tried to light the stove, wouldn’t be a good idea to light

when giving cpr: dominant over nondominant, to the center of the chest between the nipples. it helps to hum Staying Alive, as the tempo aligns with the cpr treatment. don’t stop if you hear/feel a rib crack, bones mend, a stopped heart doesn’t

tip from firefighters: search rooms with the back of your hand. if you think a room is on fire, feel the metal door handle with the back of your hand, that way if it’s hot you burn the back and don’t reduce your ability to grip things. this also prevent grabbing ahold of an electrical outlet with a current in it, the electricity invading your body will contract your muscles making you unable to actually let go of the outlet

Keep adding your own please! This is a very short list, and you can never know too much on safety precautions

[amelialincoln]

We're Still Standing

She hadn't realized she had fallen asleep until she was being shaken aggressively out of subconsciousness. Amelia opened her eyes drowsily and realized immediately how cold she was. It took her a minute to adjust to the dim light illuminating from the lantern that hung beside the swing on the porch.

“What the hell are you doing? I was worried sick.” Her boyfriend’s familiar voice rang from above her and she felt his warm, oversized jacket wrap around her shivering frame. Amelia blinked at him, trying to recall why she was on Meredith’s front deck. Oh shit.

“I’m so sorry,” she slurred, shaking her head out of its daze. “I drove to Mer’s out of habit and I must’ve passed out.”

“We’ve been living in the apartment for two weeks.” His tone was firm and he stretched out a hand to pull her off the uncomfortable wooden swing. “Did you--” She knew what he was going to say before he had the chance to finish.

“No, no, I’ve actually barely been thinking about it since I started working again. I think my body is just still adjusting to the long hours.” She accepted his hand and glanced at her dim phone screen. It read 2:50am. No wonder he seemed so shaken up. She bit her lip, trying to hide her guilt.

“Oh, really?” He paused, trying to find the right words, cautious as always. “You seemed like you were struggling with it a bit while we were living at Mer’s.”

“I haven’t taken that much time off work since I was an intern, other than when I was using,” she explained as he opened the car door for her. “My sobriety depends on being able to fill my time with things I’m passionate about. I’m just getting back to feeling like myself again.”

“Okay…” Link replied, shutting the door gently and climbing into the driver’s seat. He pulled out of Mer’s driveway and waited until they were on the freeway. “So this has nothing to do with the conversation we had last night?” She was almost taken aback by how well he knew her. After spending almost every second together, over the last couple of months, she could barely keep anything from him without Link somehow noticing when something was wrong.

“It's just kind of a lot to put on someone,” she muttered.

“What do you mean?” He asked, glancing at his girlfriend who was twisting pieces of her chocolate brown hair nervously.

“It’s just that the expectation of me to be popping out your babies all the time is a bit overwhelming,” she glanced out the window as Link merged into their usual exit. “I just got back to work, Link.”

“Hey, I’m sorry. I was just getting excited. I didn’t mean like now.” He placed a soft hand on her thigh and felt her relax slightly. “We talked about having other kids a lot while we were at Meredith’s. I’m sorry if I jumped into the future too quickly.”

“Meredith’s was a different time. I was really hormonal and barely had time to actually process what was happening.” She forced a grin which made him raise an eyebrow.

“Well, how many of our conversations and decisions were made when you were hormonal?” He turned to look at her and watched her gaze fall. “All that stuff about marriage and houses and massive backyards?” He was dancing around the four kids that she had specifically outlined to him as her preference.

“Link, you and Scout are enough for me. I don’t need anything else.”

“Don’t need or don’t want?” He asked as he pulled into his apartment’s parkade. “Those are two very different things, Amelia.”

“Can we talk about this in the morning? I’m not thinking straight right now,” she answered honestly.

“Yeah, whatever you want.”

[][][]

Amelia was awoken the next morning to Scout being placed on her bare chest. Sun streamed in through the shutters of their third story bedroom and the glittering light from the ocean reflected like shards of glass on the white walls of the room. Link’s apartment was utter perfection, with a perfect view of Elliott bay and situated on a central, but not too busy, street close to downtown. It made her question why he was itching to move out so fast and start building the house he’d been fantasizing about for the last couple of weeks.

“Hi baby,” she smiled as Scout’s blue eyes stared up at her sleepily. He was always the most cuddly in the morning and she shifted to a position where he was able to wrap his pudgy arm around her neck. “Where’s your Dadda?” As if on cue Link strolled into the bright room, his long hair was disheveled and his face wore a hint of exhaustion. Probably from being up all night searching for her, she realized. He held two steaming mugs of coffee and the scent hit her forcefully as he held it under her chin for her to take a small sip.

“He’s been missing you a lot lately.” He lowered himself onto their bed gently and placed both of the mugs on the side table. “Ma ma, ma ma, all day long.” She laughed at his decent impression of Scout’s latest attempts at talking. “You think with all the time he’s spent with Dadda,” he spoke the word loudly at his giggling son, “He’d start liking me at least half as much as you,” Link joked.

“Mama’s boy.” Amelia shrugged, pressing a kiss to the top of her baby boy’s head and suppressing a yawn.

“Bailey texted you not to come in because neuro is slow today but she put you on call. I turned off your alarm. Thought you might need the rest.” He explained, his voice free of judgment. “You also got a call from our health insurance place. Our plans are ending in a week and we’ve still got some credit so I called the pharmacy to renew your birth control prescription. I noticed your pack this month was almost finished.”

“Oh,” she turned to face him, suddenly reminded that she needed to take her pill. “Yeah...thank you.”

“No problem.” He shrugged. “I can probably pick it up sometime today.” He handed her the cup of coffee, reading her thoughts before she could even ask for it and watched as she swallowed the tiny pill down.

“Link, it’s--” “Fine,” he shrugged. “I don’t have any expectations of you, Amelia. I know you went through a lot with Owen,” he made a face she didn’t recognize before taking a large gulp out of his own mug and clearing his throat. “I don’t want to make you feel trapped or obligated to fulfill my own selfish desires. It’s your choice and I’m not going anywhere...unless you want me to,” he paused, allowing her space to speak if she wanted to before continuing. “I was an only child and it was tough. It would’ve helped to have a sibling to lean on during my parent’s divorce and I guess that’s my own stuff that I should probably work through instead of pushing you into a situation that you don’t want to be in. I’ve seen you go through hell with your sisters and I understand where you are coming from. Most of all, I’d never want to force you to quit the thing you love doing the most. I also think that would be doing a disservice to the world because my girlfriend is a freaking superhero and she’s got hundreds upon hundreds of people to still save. So can we just pretend that everything I selfishly said to you didn’t happen? Cause I usually don’t like to talk everything out but I was up all night trying to put how I was feeling into words and I still feel like I did a shitty job.” “Now you know how I feel all the time,” she laughed, slipping her hand into his and wishing she could erase the stress that was radiating from him. “Screwing up while trying to get my point across is my specialty.”

“That’s not true, you’re one of the most well spoken people I know.” Link rolled his eyes, taking another sip of his coffee and looking a little bit more relaxed.

“There’s a lot of people who would say otherwise,” Amelia joked, pulling their duvet up to Scout’s shoulders as he began to fall asleep on her chest. “You weren’t being selfish,” she finally sighed. “If anyone’s not being fair it's me. I feel like my mind is switching up on me a hundred times a day. Since I’ve had the tumor I find myself constantly second guessing myself, trying to figure out what I want. Some days all I want is to be a mom. I feel like having Scout has made me become a better person and a better surgeon and I wouldn’t change that for the world. I don’t regret having him for even a second. Every single part of me loves him...and you. To the point where when I am at work, where I am usually at my happiest, I still find myself missing the both of you. Which scares me because there’s never been a doubt in my mind at work that I’m not exactly where I want to be. And I know for a fact that if we were to have another baby, or two or three, that I would find myself not being able to compromise between my love for operating and my love for my family. I know I would have to choose. And I don't think that I can. At least not right now.” Link nodded his head in understanding. “But when I can, you’ll be the first to know,” She laughed, causing him to grin.

“Well, I would hope so.” He rolled his eyes, pulling her closer to him gently, careful not to wake their sleeping son before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'm not going anywhere, Mia, and I'm not going to force you into anything. So for the love of god, stop running and just tell me how you feel because it's going to take a whole lot more than not wanting another baby right now to scare me off."

[amysubmits]

Leading Our Relationship

A couple years after we started dating, we were a week out from renewing our apartment lease. Our roommate (a close friend) came to us to confess that he had changed his mind at the last minute, he wanted to move in with his brand new girlfriend. We had asked him if he was going to renew the lease several times over the past couple of months, and more frequently as the lease got closer, because we knew his decision might impact ours. All along he kept saying he was going to renew, even at 2 weeks out. So we believed it was settled. Until he told us otherwise with 6 days left. It felt like he was so excited about this girl that he didn’t care that he was putting us in a difficult situation and that hurt. 

So now we had a week to figure out if we wanted to try to take over all the expenses for the apartment, if we wanted to stay here and try to get a new roommate, if we wanted to find a new apartment with 1-weeks notice, or if we would move in with family to give us more time to find a place..but then move twice? We were 45+ minutes from our home town, in a bigger city that we definitely didn’t want to stay in long-term, but it was where our college was. 

My mind was spinning with all the possibilities and what-ifs. And I was hurt by our friend’s decision and knew CD was feeling hurt too. Yet we kinda had to make a decision quickly. We needed to process and we wanted space, so we went for a ride and wound up sitting in a fast food parking lot in our truck to talk. We talked about our concerns and the options we had, the pros and cons of them. There was no ideal answer, each possibility had downsides. None of them were really what we wanted to do. 

But CD shared what he thought our best option was, as well as how we would make the most of the downsides that came with that option. Just hearing his plan brought relief. And I basically just said okay. 

This is one of the ways that in hindsight, I see that he was leading our relationship from the beginning. Way before we knew what D/s was. When it came to making decisions together, he’d usually state what he thought was best, we'd talk about it, but I’d usually agree with his plan, and this resulted in him leading even though we were making these decisions together. We handle big decisions the same way now as we did then. 

While I love that my relationship includes @cynicaldom leading me by telling me what he wants me to do, I find just as much happiness in him leading our relationship. I’m glad I don’t have to choose, I want both - I need both to feel fulfilled. But if I had to choose between just being led individually or just having him lead our relationship, I’d go with him leading our relationship. For me, there’s an intense sense of security that comes from him leading our relationship. CD being the head of our household is a deeper need of mine than him having control of me. I believe it’s a deeper need for CD as well.

I got to thinking about all of this while speaking with a new submissive recently. Someone who was still trying to figure out their own needs. I don’t know if I’ve really seen this difference between leading a relationship vs leading the submissive discussed. I can imagine for some people that it might be an important thing to understand to help understand some of their needs and desires or their D/s style because it’s possible to lead a submissive without leading the relationship, and vise versa. 

I tend to see CD leading our relationship as tied to our domestic discipline dynamic because being a Head of Household involves having the say on things for the family, and Head Of Household is a DD concept. But it is by no means exclusive to being traditional or DD..this is just ’our way’. Still, I thought I’d share some more examples in case they are helpful to someone. 

CD leads our relationship by having the final say on things like...

Do we put more money into our car via repairs or buy a new one?

What time we leave to run errands together.

Do we keep the phone plan we have or switch? 

Whether we deep clean or relax on Sunday.

Do we put up with slow internet or upgrade?  

When and how we do our taxes. 

How to proceed when the house floods.

Whether we are going to buy something we want now or wait to grow our savings further before spending money. 

What treatment choice we choose from the options the vet gives us. 

When we move and where. 

What pets we get. 

Our health insurance decisions. 

Our work/life balance. 

How we adjust to handle a pandemic.

Just in general, I see him as leading our relationship when he has the final say in things that impact us both, while leading me is when he makes decisions that are more just about me.

[novantinuum]

Intake (SUF one-shot)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: Teen Audiences (TW: brief discussion of mental illness related topics like suicide ideation and intrusive thoughts.)

Words: 2800

Summary: Steven fills out an important form.

This is set multiple months pre The Future, and is a small glimpse into Steven’s journey to find a therapist.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3 as well. AO3 link will be provided in the reblogs. Thank you! <3

____

His leg bounces with a restless fervor as he slumps in the waiting room chair, clutching the clipboard and pencil the receptionist gave him with a white knuckled grip. Gaze hardened, he takes a good long look at the other patients spread across the room, a few of them appearing equally as spent and fidgety as him, and hunches over the intake form so his answers will be conclusively obscured from their view.

He grimaces. Ugh. Why would a place like this lay out their chairs so close, anyways? Why even give people the option of being nosey? He may be stuck seeing this therapist Connie’s mom recommended because he’s all messed up in the head, but it’s not like he wants the whole planet to know about it. Goodness knows all of Beach City and Little Homeworld already does thanks to his little ‘incident’ a month back. That’s bad enough.

His chest almost feeling hollow as he sighs, he scrawls in his name, his birthday, his cell number, address, and an emergency contact (Dad, who left for the car to give him privacy after signing a few forms he can’t fill out as a minor) on the lines indicated. He leaves out his many middle names for once, all of them leaving a bitter taste in his mouth at this present moment. Briefly, he wonders if this will be a problem, as these past few weeks Dr. Maheswaran assisted his dad in finally acquiring legal documentation and health insurance for him, and per those records he’s officially ‘Steven Quartz Universe’ in the eyes of the law.

Eventually he shrugs, figuring the likelihood of there being another sixteen-year-old ‘Steven Universe’ here today to confuse him with is nearing zero.

Okay, what’s next?

He briefly skims over the next few passages— a bunch of legalese about the terms of counselor-patient confidentiality and when they might have to breach that for safety reasons— and signs where indicated so they know he looked over it.

Someone sitting two chairs away coughs. He can’t help but flinch at the sudden noise, and folds himself tighter in his own seat as he flips over the first page of the form and continues to read.

In a few words, explain why you’ve chosen to reach out to us today. How can we help you?

Steven frowns, fingers twitching around the shaft of the pencil as he contemplates how to respond. For whatever reason, the question “explain why you’re here” feels very blunt and antagonistic to him in a way he can’t quite ascertain. Like... in a “give the wrong answer, get booted right out the door” sorta way. He lifts his head, peering at all the humans spread across the room, each and every one with their own story, the central character of their own worlds. Some are texting on their phones as they wait for the receptionist to call their names, others are filling out forms as well. What brought these people here, he wonders? Surely there’s plenty of people having a worse time than him right now. Surely there’s people with real problems, people who are literally struggling just to stay alive from day-to-day. He’s not like that, right? Besides that one little wobble a month back, he’s been handling his problems on his own fairly okay. Hasn’t he? So what makes him selfish enough to think that he’s worth anyone’s time?

In his pocket his phone vibrates, knocking him back into reality. He yanks it out and switches it on to look at the new text splashed across the lock screen:

Dad: Hey Schtu-ball, just wanna let you know that I’m proud of you and love you very much. You’ve got this!

He stares at these words for a good minute, the kind sentiment— despite reading as a little hopelessly over-encouraging— filling the hollow space in his chest partway. Even if his dad’s been a bit overbearing in his affections this past month, it’s clear he means well.

So. Why am I here today, he thinks, reading the question over again. He folds his fingers up into a stiff fist, pulling his thumb across his knuckles. After licking his chapped lips and shoving his phone back in his pocket, he scribbles a hasty reply.

I feel really angry and empty and tense and just want to be better.

The teen pauses, allowing those words to echo over and over in his mind, to truly sink in. It’s such a succinct and to-the-point admission that he suddenly wonders why he ever doubted he was less deserving of aid than anyone else in this waiting room.

His countenance a little lighter now and his shoulders growing less stiff, he moves on to the next section.

To aid our counselors in providing you the best possible care, please rate the following statements on a scale from zero to four, zero meaning “not at all like me,” and four meaning “extremely like me.”

Steven’s eyes dart across the length of the massive table below these instructions, his previous anxiety rushing back into his brittle bones as if it’d never left. Each row is host to a short sentence and five blank boxes, numbered zero to four. Read it and rate yourself, right? Should be simple enough. But as his glance flits over these statements and he understands the sort of personal, probing questions they’re asking through them, he begins to mistrust his previous burst of optimism. Dread floods his system, making his cheeks flush bright pink. Heart pounding at the mere thought of people staring, he drops his head lower, successfully hiding most of his face behind the clipboard until he can coax that betraying glow into fading away.

In the end, this goes to prove that it doesn’t matter if everyone says therapy will be ‘helpful’ for him; reflecting on all this junk is still gonna suck.

Quietly, he takes a steadying breath and forces himself to read on, to crack open the hornet’s nest that is the depths of his crap brain.

1. I am shy around others.

He considers this for a moment. Shy. Historically, this has never been a word people would use to describe him. For years he reveled in the thrill of meeting new people, new Gems. His childhood eagerness to engage in fellowship with those around is half the reason Era 3 even exists. And he’s fine around people he knows. Like, on a rare good day he has no problem playing board games or watching cheesy soap operas with his friends. But to be fair... as of late, his eagerness to meet anyone new feels like it’s all but vanished. Is that being shy? Or is that just him failing to care for anyone beyond his inner circle?

With a small shrug he checks the box for one, and moves on.

2. I don’t enjoy being around people as much as I used to.

Hmm. Probably a three. People are unintentionally exhausting these days. He used to be energized by social interaction, and now it just leaves him sucked dry. Most days he’d rather stick to his room.

3. I feel isolated and alone.

The weight of the diamond embedded in his belly— something he normally barely notices— grows ever more apparent as he marks off a four.

4. My heart often races for no good reason.

Uh, yeah. What happened just a minute ago is a pretty good tell. Four.

5. I have spells of terror or panic.

Another four.

6. I am anxious that I might have a panic attack while in public.

Four once more. He holds his pencil tighter, squirming in his seat as he tries (and fails) not to think about the pale scars spread across his back, hidden in his hairline, and on the underside of his arms, indentations that once marked the base of the crystalline spines that jut out from between his scales.

7. I think about food more than I’d like to.

Steven pauses at this one. For once, he’s not sure he can say this statement applies to him. Truth be told, he only started caring about what he put in his mouth earlier this year, when he cut meat and fish out of his diet. And that’s not... a bad thing? It’s not bad to want to consider the impact your food choices have on the environment? He definitely didn’t choose to do so for self-denying reasons, and that’s probably what they’re asking about. He checks zero, and moves on.

8. I feel out of control when I eat.

He almost checks another zero, but then he remembers that day after the proposal... and the week after his incident. And he decides that even if he doesn’t consciously obsess over the food he eats, there’s still a few occasions where once he starts snacking he finds it difficult to stop. A one it is, then.

9. I have sleep difficulties.

This statement nearly makes him laugh. Does he have sleep difficulties. Hah. He doesn’t think he’s gotten a truly restful night of sleep since he sacrificed himself to Homeworld at fourteen.

A solid four. No question.

10. My thoughts are racing.

Four.

11. I feel uncomfortable around people I don’t know.

Hmm. Two.

12. I drink alcohol frequently.

The only alcohol he’s ever had is a tiny sip of his dad’s with permission at Garnet’s wedding reception, and it tasted terrible. He has no interest in drinking again. Zero.

13. When I drink alcohol I can’t remember what happened.

Zero.

14. I drink more than I should.

Zero again.

15. I have done something I have regretted because of drinking.

Another zero. It almost makes him feel better, just knowing there’s a decent number of lines on this paper that aren’t a carbon copy of his lived experience.

16. I feel sad all the time.

Aaaand back to “the story of his life.” Briefly, he wonders if ‘feeling sad’ is the same thing as feeling nothing at all. But then again, does the difference really matter? He checks the box for three.

17. I am concerned that other people don’t like me.

Three. Although honestly, he’s even more concerned that people continue to like him after everything he’s done.

18. I feel worthless.

Steven nibbles at the inside of his cheek as he reads this statement, memories automatically flashing through the pathetic events of the last few weeks, through all the days he barely crawled out from under his covers, all the days he didn’t even manage to brush his teeth or run his fingers through his greasy, knotted hair, all those awful days he couldn’t so much as play one of his video games without growing tired of it in minutes and taking a restless nap for the rest of the afternoon instead.

Four.

19. I feel helpless.

Two. Everyday affairs are a drag, but at the very least he knows he can fight his way out of danger in a pinch. He wouldn’t call that helpless.

20. I have thoughts of ending my life.

He freezes. Goes back, reads this line again. Reads it a third time to make sure he’s not horrendously misconstruing the prompt he’s been given.

(Tries not to think too deeply about the graphic images that flood his imagination some nights. It’s just stray thoughts, though. He’s fine.)

One, he marks, although his muscles can’t help but twitch as he shifts his wrist, as if deep down he knows he’s underplaying his answer.

21. I feel tense.

Steven gives a small snort under his breath. Yeah, he outright admitted as much earlier in this form. Four.

22. I get angry easily.

His grip tightens.

Four.

23. I have difficulty controlling my temper.

He swallows hard, his mouth feeling abnormally dry. He’s not sure he likes how blunt and probing this questionnaire is becoming.

Four...

24. I sometimes feel like breaking or smashing things.

His knuckles go white around his pencil, and he only barely resists the temptation to snap it in half as he feels a rush of hard light flow the distance from his gem through the veins of his arm. Geeze, it’s not like he means to break things! It’s just that all of his stupid powers are linked with his emotions, and whenever he gets even marginally upset now things start to splinter, crack in half, and inevitably end up broken. Just another sign he’s fated to ruin everything around him forever, and that his intent doesn’t matter. Why do they have to pry into this? He already feels terrible enough for thinking these things.

Three, he checks, his eyes damp, but mostly because he’s too scared what their response will be otherwise.

25. I am not able to concentrate as well as usual.

He takes a deep breath, coaxing his body to return to a baseline state. Eh. He’ll give this a two.

26. I feel self-conscious around others.

His glance skirts over the edge of the clipboard to monitor the four others currently spread out across the room. One’s rhythmically swinging their legs, another is still filling out a form like him, but sitting criss-cross on the chair, and the other two are quietly typing on their phones. Thankfully none of them are pressing an ounce of attention his way, (at least, not right now), but that doesn’t stop him from feeling like an exposed nerve. Three.

27. I am afraid I may lose control and act violently.

The raw memories hit like lightning before he can even think to prepare.

Flashes of Pink. Orange fragments, cold and slick in his palms. Thunder splits the skies overhead, each cacophonous sound manifesting in perfect synchronicity with his erratic heartbeat, with each tidal wave of thoughts gushing like a maelstrom through his head: SHATTERER, I’m a shatterer, I’m—

Feeling almost dizzy from the intensity of his heart’s pulse, he knows with full certainty that his cheeks are glowing bright pink again. All he can do is clench his fists, suck down whatever amount of fresh air his lungs will allow, and pray to the very stars themselves that it’ll fade away before it garners the attention of every last human in this place.

He checks the box for four, pencil marking so hard that slivers of graphite splinter off onto the page, and moves on before he can be cowardly enough to change his answer.

28. I have thoughts of hurting others.

His fingernails claw into the thin denim at his knee, limbs outright quivering as he stews in his seat, as he’s forced to reflect upon all the ugly, ugly thoughts that have flit across his awareness over the past weeks. Thoughts about one Gem specifically. He’s... always been angry, always harbored deep resentment... but ever since his most recent trip to visit Her, he hasn’t been able to shake this awful idea: a vision of him standing over the remnants of her gemstone, shattered, fragments spilled across the otherwise pristine floors of Homeworld. He... he didn’t do it when he had the chance. He wouldn’t do it, would he?

(Orange fragments, cold and slick...)

Would he??

And yet nevertheless, the thought tortures him with its frequency, makes him feel downright nauseous at every turn. He doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want to feel this way at all.

Four.

29. I am unable to keep up with my schoolwork.

Stop. Sharp inhale. Staccato, shaky exhale. Repeat, deeper this time. Repeat.

(He can no longer see neon pink reflecting in the smooth metal clasp at the top of his clipboard.)

Okay. Schoolwork.

N/A, he writes in one of the boxes, arm still trembling from the last two questions despite his attempt at cool-down exercises. Not applicable. He hasn’t even been to school, and dreads the inevitability of this therapist asking about that mess.

30. It’s hard to stay motivated for my classes.

N/A.

31. I feel confident that I can succeed academically.

N/A, once more.

And like that, the questionnaire is over. Steven is quick to hide his answers behind the front page, and slides the pencil through the length of the metal clip. He glances around him, drinking in his surroundings with pinpoint precision. Despite his earlier concerns, no one is maliciously staring. No one’s whispering. He internally wrestled with a few challenging subjects and what do you know, it didn’t end in an embarrassingly public meltdown. He— he wipes a stray tear from his eye with the butt of his palm— he took a solid step forward today.

Coercing his body to move, he pulls himself out of the cushioned chair and crosses the room.

“I finished,” he says softly, proudly, as he hands the clipboard and pencil to the receptionist. She smiles and accepts his hard-fought offering.

For the first time in a while, the smile he instinctively flashes back almost feels genuine.

I want to be better, he thinks. I will be better.

____

Notes:

This fic is loosely based on my own experience of the intake process, and the questionnaire I had to fill out. No two intake experiences are the same though, of course. This is merely one possibility. I also take personal liberties on the way I depict Steven’s struggle with mental health, and acknowledge and respect that no two fans’ interpretation will be the same.

Additional notes: -Steven’s still a minor, so he can’t actually sign contracts. I figure Greg signed a handful of forms beforehand as his guardian, and then left to allow his son a bit of privacy with filling out the questionnaire stuff. Since he's a teen, they're still giving him the full confidentiality clauses to look over so he's wholly aware how that works, though.

-To expand on a brief comment made in the midst of this, I headcanon that Steven cut both meat and fish out of his diet, and thus actually slipped up on his vegetarian diet when he was training with Jasper. I interpret this as further showcasing how the poor kid— due to being mentally vulnerable at the time and thus liable to coercion/unwise decisions— began to take actions that went against much of his established morality. He ended up sacrificing his dietary choices during those days, just like he briefly sacrificed his pacifistic views to fight Jasper.

-I also headcanon that the therapist Steven is going in to see after this isn’t the one he eventually sticks with and mentions as “my new therapist” in The Future. It’s totally normal and okay to try a few different people to find someone who you click with, after all.

Thank you for reading!

[anogete]

In Between

Hi, folks.  I’m sorry I have nothing to offer as far as fic goes.  Things have been... ::sigh::  You know, I don’t know what things have been.  Not good, not bad.  Just... things.  I wanted to talk--get things out of my head--this morning, but I realized I don’t have a person/outlet who can accept these things right now.  So, I will put them here for anyone who cares to read them.

1) My car blew up.  Well, the engine did.  I was on my way back home with groceries last Saturday, and I lost all ability to accelerate and brake.  So, I puttered out on the side of the road and waited to be saved.  The issue may be covered under the warranty so I had it taken to the dealership.  They’ve had it for a week and still don’t have answers for me besides an offer to lend me a car for free until they can figure out what to do with my car.

2) This deserves it’s own point, though I almost included it on the first point.  I’ve never bought a car without my grandmother.  She was under five feet tall and had a tendency to wear sweat pants and Christmas sweaters year-round.  She smoked Winston Lights and carried a purse covered in rhinestones.  The car salesmen didn’t know what hit them because she wasn’t at all the sweet old lady who would roll over and accept their first offer.  She was hard to read and she wouldn’t give an inch.  She also wouldn’t tell them what she was willing to pay.  No counter offers from her; she’d just tell you to “do better.”  Anyway, she worked her magic when I bought all three of my cars.  When I realized the problem with the engine was serious and might require me getting a new car, I went into a mental tailspin.  Yeah, yeah, I was worried about fitting it into my budget and all that, but mostly I couldn’t seem to cope with buying a car on my own without my grandma there to hold my hand.  I’m almost 39 years old and the thought of doing this without her had me sobbing in the floor.  Except, I didn’t realize my tailspin was due to my grandmother at first.  At first, I just thought I was incapable of handling stress.  Maybe that’s still accurate.

3) While we’re talking about expensive-ass shit, I knew the air conditioner and furnace on this house needed to be replaced sooner rather than later when I bought it last February.  It looks like the time has come.  I managed to find a nice man with very odd hair (think a longer version of the Prince Valiant hair-do, but bright white) through my boyfriend’s dad.  He does this for a living and said he’d give me a discount and do for $5,000 what other places were telling me would cost $9,000.  So, that’s happening next week.  I have the money, but the idea of writing a $5,000 check makes me want to puke.  Ugh.

4) The days are running together.  I’m working from home.  I can’t complain, though.  I’ve got it better than most.  I’m alone all day.  I have a library with a desk.  I can go downstairs and make tea or lunch in my own kitchen.  I’m getting paid my full salary with bonuses.  I can pretty much make my own hours.  The company I work for is taking the pandemic seriously and has told us that we can all work from home until we feel comfortable returning to the office.  Their timeline for “normal” is months.  I don’t think I’ll be back in the office until late summer, if that.  Those who want to return are permitted to, but they can’t use the public areas (kitchen, conference rooms) and have to abide by some strict safety requirements.  And they can choose when and how often they go into the office, working the remainder of the time at home.  So, better than most.

5) I’ve been doing this social distancing thing since March 19th.  It’s not difficult for me.  On good days I’ll exercise (I have a Peloton) before logging into work around 9am.  On not-good days (which seem to be more often than not), I’ll skip the exercise and just log into work early.  Work keeps me busy and I spend a decent amount of my day on the phone with clients.  I go to the grocery store once a week, but I order for pickup.  Someone else does the shopping for me and loads it into my trunk.  This is nothing new.  I’ve been shopping that way for years.  Now it’s just harder to get my usual pickup slot because everyone else has joined the party.  I do miss taking a break from work and leaving my office to grab a coffee and sit outside on a bench downtown.  I guess I could do that outside my own house, but it just doesn’t feel the same.

6) A few months ago, a husband and wife who are clients came in to meet with me at my office.  They’re in their 80s and both were having trouble walking.  They parked in the garage next door and couldn’t find the elevator to exit.  I walked over and escorted them to our office building.  They were both struggling with walking and the wife (Rose) had been fighting lung cancer for a couple years, so I suggested they wait outside and I’d valet their car once we were done.  The thought of making the trek to their car alone was painful to me because it was a monumental struggle for them to walk down a hallway.  Their daughter-in-law called me two days ago.  Rose passed away two weeks ago.  The husband, a former literature professor for a university, was in the hospital with four broken ribs because he’d fallen shortly after Rose’s passing.  He was a Jewish child in Nazi Germany during the war.  He’d told me stories about hiding from the Nazis, surviving off of tree bark and whatever he could find in the forests.  He also jokingly told me that he’d live until he was 120.  Now, it looks like he won’t survive the year.  He and Rose would tease each other all the time, but you could see all that love between them. Whenever I’d call him, he’d ask me in that wonderful accent to wait while he got “the boss” on the phone as well.  Rose thought it was silly that she was “the boss,” but she humored him.  You know, they’re shorties, too.  Five foot, nothing.  Just like my grandma.  Hearing that Rose was gone and Dr. (he’s a PhD) was likely soon to follow just broke my already fragile heart.

7) Fragile heart, huh?  Yeah.  After the car situation and the realization that one day I’m going to have to do big life things without having my grandma to help me, I was feeling pretty raw.  But I’ve been trying to be responsible and do things I’ve been putting off lately.  So, I gathered up all those medical bills from Ferguson’s illness last September.  (Ferguson was my soulmate little chihuahua mix that I had for over 13 years.)  I had pet insurance on him and hadn’t bothered to make the claim because I couldn’t handle it.  But it’s been almost a year so I pulled out the invoices, which were over $2,000, and logged into the website and starting inputting the info to file the claims.  The little box asks for a description of why I took him to the vet.  And answering that question just brought back all that shit like a wave.  I remember reading this nice description of grief and how it is like waves.  At first they’re big and they knock you around and you can’t breathe.  But over time they get smaller and you learn how to navigate them.  Still there, but manageable.  Filling in that box resulted in a bit of a tidal wave that knocked me on my ass.  My boyfriend came home to find me sobbing at my desk like a lunatic..  He’s... not so good with emotional shit.  And I usually keep it bottled up so that no one knows what’s going on inside me.  But some days...  Some days it just overflows.  So, after confirming that nothing terrible had occurred and that I was reliving September 2019, he slowly backed out of the room to leave me with my grief-wave.

8) I want to be one of those succulent people.  You know, the ones who have succulents lining their windowsills.  The dining room and kitchen windows are full of this oddball little plants.  The boyfriend hates it, but I told him he’d have to deal.  I’ll die on this hill.  I’m a succulent lady.

9) I’ve been reading memoirs or, rather, memoirs through collections of essays.  I don’t know if it’s the mental state I’m in or if social distancing has got me subconsciously reaching out for life beyond my head, but I can’t seem to read much else.  I loved Liz Phair’s Horror Stories.  I’m reading The Book of Help by Megan Griswold right now.  I’m determined to procure a signed copy of What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Blacker by Damon Young.  He did a virtual event for a local bookseller recently and they have signed copies available for purchase.  I just need to muster up the will to call them and ask them to hold one for me.  The little snippets of their life and experiences via these memoirs through essays bring me some measure of comfort.

10) I tried to watch Euphoria on HBO.  I managed to make it through the first episode, but I don’t think I can watch more.  I can’t relate, but that normally isn’t a necessity for an enjoyable story.  Maybe it’s just too depressing for me right now.

11) I binged Dollface on Hulu and wish I had more to watch.  Parts of it hit me hard.  I’ve always had trouble maintaining friendships, period.  But maintaining friendships while in a relationship has been damn near impossible for me.  Just like Jules.  Except, I’m not nearly as cool or gorgeous as Kat Dennings.  And I have no friends in this city to go back to.  Just friends at work. 

12) I haven’t worn makeup for 2 solid months.  I’m starting to miss it.  I found old selfies I’d taken in which I don’t recognize myself.  Did I ever look like that?  I must have since here is photographic evidence.  I look like shit now.  I’m forever in yoga pants and a hoodie with half-wet hair from the shower.  Maybe putting on a pair of jeans and a cute shirt and some makeup will make me feel like a human being again.  Maybe I’m not doing as well as I thought in quarantine.  Huh.

13) I hope you all are well.  If you’ve sent me a message, I’m so sorry for not responding.  My mental state has been delicate lately and the silence from me has nothing to do with your kind words.  I promise I read and treasure and appreciate anything that is sent to me.  I’m also sorry for having no offering of fic or a promise of something to come.  I haven’t written since last summer.  It’s been almost a year.  I guess I’m in a dry spell.

14) Since I’ve been struggling with loss/grief lately, I’ll leave you with a quote from Philip Pullman, taken from his novel The Amber Spyglass.  It’s about death, I suppose.  Or maybe just a transition to something else entirely.  It’s nice to think of my grandma and Rose and my sweet, sweet love of a dog falling in the raindrops and riding on the wind through tall grass.  If it wasn’t raining, I’d take my computer outside right now.

“Even if it means oblivion, friends, I'll welcome it, because it won't be nothing. We'll be alive again in a thousand blades of grass, and a million leaves; we'll be falling in the raindrops and blowing in the fresh breeze; we'll be glittering in the dew under the stars and the moon out there in the physical world, which is our true home and always was.” 

[allibellfancyfinance]

Livin’ that cheapskate life

My whole life I have been a tightwad. I have been called stingy, frugal, cheap and a no-fun-Nancy, Well, sorry, but no matter what my salary is I’m never going to order a drink or appetizer at a restaurant. I'm just not that person.

The first thing that attracted me to my husband, beyond him being a total dreamboat, was his old rundown sedan with a turkey baster in the trunk used to suck the leaking water out. I swear my ovaries dropped an egg and I thought this guy could not just be my husband but also my business partner.

What I am saying is living frugally has come naturally to me. I'd like you to believe it's because I'm self actualized and I get no pleasure from worldly possession but the truth is I just hate spending money. I also have worked in social services where I saw what saving for retirement really means. It's the difference between getting to live in your home with caregivers coming in to help you stay independent or being stuck having to rely on Medicaid while you live three to one bedroom in a nursing home.

After I graduated from college I sat down and made a list of all of my expenses if I were to live a comfortable life. That list included some funds for travel, fun stuff, and even contributing to charities that are important to me. The grand total of my "comfortable life" budget came to $35,000 a year. Every dollar after that could go towards saving or investing. I have two kids now so obviously that number has gone up a bit but I still find that most of the time I think I need something I actually just want it.

The financial approach my husband and I have landed on is maximizing our cash flow. That didn’t just mean keeping our expenses low, it meant taking some risks to make our money work for us. Below are some of the ways I’ve kept my costs down and avoided lifestyle creep. Future posts will primarily focus on investing.

Things I've done over the years that have helped me save:

I checked around every possible place to find the cheapest car insurance and home insurance.

My teeth are slightly crooked on my bottom row. Does anyone notice? Probably not. Would I love Invisalign to fix it? Yes. Will I ever fix them? No.

I have no monthly subscriptions beyond my cell phone. I went with Mint Mobile. It's $15 a month and yes, my phone is ancient but works just fine.

I exercise outside and not at a gym. My husband got a used a squat rack for the basement and that’s been enough.

I shop at Target and not Nordstrom for clothes. I look less fancy but I end up not buying things just for the dopamine.

I dye my hair from a box at home. It costs $3 and it does well enough covering the grays.

I've bought nearly everything (that's not gross) used. Facebook Marketplace > Craigslist. This was a must when having kids. It’s like borrowing something with a deposit. You buy the baby swing for $40, use it for a year and then sell it for $40.

I try potlucks instead of going out to restaurants.

I go camping instead of staying in a hotel.

I go hiking instead of going for drinks. *bonus points if I bring a cocktail in the water bottle*.

I've never in my life bought coffee when I had the option to make it at home.

I've always driven cars that cost $10k or under. If I have my heart set on a certain type of car I scope out the listing for weeks and plot them in a spreadsheet to perform a regression analysis to see if any given car is a good deal. When I sell the car there isn’t much value lost because I held out for a really good deal.

I use google flights to find my flights and then choose the cheapest flight, layovers be damned.

I buy in bulk. I love to get a ton of chicken thighs and marinate them with this recipe. Then I freeze them and then don't eat out at restaurants! This is less about saving money and more about that recipe being too legit to quit.

My husband and I do every possible home project ourselves before hiring something out. Google and YouTube make pretty much anything possible that doesn’t require real skill.

I use my local tool library when doing home renovations. I also shamelessly borrow from neighbors. (I mean come on, how many times do you really need a post hole digger in your life, just borrow it)

I moved back in with my parents after college to save for grad school. My roommates (parents) were cool with it as long as I didn’t make a mess or get in their way.

[multific]

Soulmates

Harrison Osterfield x Reader

Soulmate AU!

Summary: Soulmates are real. But only men can feel them from the moment they see their partner. Women will only feel the connection when they get kissed by their soulmate.

 You envied men. It was so easy for them, they could just find their soulmate with one simple glance. Meanwhile, you, you had to wait.

It really sucked. And the fact that there were people who used this to get one night stands, disgusting.

You often wondered, why couldn’t both parties feel connection at the same time?

Why did women had to wait?

Gays were probably the luckiest.

Lesbians tried and many succeeded.

It felt like everyone was good at finding their partners, except you.

Every friend of yours found theirs already. Some even had children by now.

And there you were an office worker, alone in front of your desk. You wanted to find happiness, as did everyone else. But you weren’t desperate, there were times when you looked at other and envied them for their happiness, but it was only a natural reaction. You worked your way up in the company while others were having dates and weddings.

You felt like you achieved everything you could in regards to your career. You were one of the most important people in the building, you worked directly with the CEO who respected you in many ways.

Your income increased to the point where you got yourself a rather fine way of living. You bought everything you ever wanted. A house, a pet, designer clothes, after many years of using public transport, you finally had enough of the people and bought yourself a car and many more.

You lived the high life. But you worked for it.

You had a weekend off and decided to go to a nice spa hotel and relax, refresh and have a great time alone, away from work, family, friends and the amount of people that lived in the big city.

The hotel that you choose was in the mountains, had amazing view and the rooms were to die for, with a personal pool to every room, during the winter they had warm water in it, so the guests can use it.

Sounded like the perfect mini-vacation after working so hard.

The only problem was that you had to drive for four hours, up a mountain and the whole road was slippery due to the winter weather.

You drove always very cautiously.

It was your last ten minutes and you’d be finally at the hotel.

You were to cross a small village, turn left then a bit more forward and finally, you’d be there.

Unfortunately, when you stopped to let a pedestrian cross, the car behind you couldn’t stop in time and bumped into you. It was nothing serious since it wasn’t coming fast. Your car started to call the authorities, but you stopped it from doing so. You pulled the handbrake on and after you took a big breath, to calm yourself, you got out of the car.

The guy from the car behind you was already out and expecting the damage. When he noticed you, he stopped for a second then he immediately rushed to you.

“Are you hurt? I’m so sorry Miss, I saw you stop and the road is just bad and I couldn’t.”

“It’s all right. Things like this happen, the important thing is that no one is hurt.” you offered him a small smile.

Was he blushing?

“I’ll give you my insurance, one moment.” he got back to his car to get his details while you waited in the cold. Thank Gucci for those amazing fury warm coats. You got your phone to drive down his details before he came back.

Lucky for you the traffic in the village was very light, so you didn’t have to move the cars and you could speak there.

“Okay, my name is Harrison Osterfield, and my details are…”

“Got it. My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’ll give you a call when I get an estimate and then we can figure things out.”

“S-sure. Thank you for not getting mad.”

“I kind of expected it. You know, slippery roads, new car, it was meant to happen. And I just knew that I wouldn’t be able to drive my new car without something happening to it.”

“I’m really really sorry.” he looked very apologetic and the fact that he was cute helped a lot with your calmness.

“I said its fine. We are not hurt, and that’s the most important a bumper can be replaced.”

After that, you took a few pictures and then both of you said your goodbyes.

Other than the minor incident, your weekend was perfect. The hotel was amazing. You had massages and even got yourself a nice manicure-pedicure treatment.

All in all, it was worth it.

But you couldn’t stop thinking about the guy. Harrison.

He had a nice accent as well. He was English and those eyes. But you couldn’t figure out why was he so shy at one moment than in the next so confident.

As you thought about it, he was only shy when he…

looked at you.

You sat up in bed.

“Don’t tell me. Is he my…. No.” You convinced yourself that you just imagined it.

He couldn’t be your soulmate, right?

***

Three days passed, and you finally had your estimate.

When you told about the incident to your boss, she laughed at the situation. But then she told you that she met her husband during a meeting. He accidentally spilled hot coffee on her and he apologized with a date. She got a kiss from him that night, a simple peck on the lips and it was enough. She felt the connection since then.

“Soulmates are interesting Y/N. Especially, how you meet them. Because even if your first impression of them is bad, they will steal your heart with a kiss.”

She also said that she hoped that it is him and you finally found him.

You texted Harrison during your lunch break.

Hey, it’s Y/N. I got the new bumper, I sent a picture of the bill, but you don’t have to worry about it. You seemed genuine and the accident wasn’t truly your fault. You don’t have to pay me back for it.

It only took him about five minutes to reply.

Hi! It’s Harrison, sorry, I’m at work right now. But I cannot leave you with that bill! I’ll pay for it, but I cannot give you it at once, can we make out a plan or something for weekly or monthly payments.

You thought about it for a second, you really didn’t want him to pay it, it’s not like you’d go bankrupt or anything. It just meant that you couldn’t buy the new fridge you wanted this month.

Can we meet somewhere? I’d rather speak in person. When do you finish work? I can get off early so I’ll be able to leave around four.

Maybe this way, you can find out if your assumption was right or not.

Sure! Meet me at…

***

He asked you to meet at a small café shop. It was a very cozy café with flowers and small decorations.

You sat down and soon a waiter came to pick up your order. You read his name tag.

Tom. And he had the same British accent as Harrison.

“Welcome to our shop, my name is Tom, what can I get you?”

“Do you have any specialties?”

“Yes, our cappuccino with vanilla or if you prefer tea, we have a new green tea from Singapore.”

“I’ll take the coffee please.”

“Sure, any dessert to go with it?”

“Yes, please, I’ll leave it up to you. Thank you.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back with your order.”

Tom arrived back with your coffee and a slice of cake in a few minutes.

Harrison said that he would get off of work at five. You checked the time, it was a quarter to five.

You looked around the small café one more time, you noted the counter and all the different cake, cupcakes, and cookies on display, they were all Christmas themed, since it was near. You wished you’d known about the café before, you’d have loved to see the Halloween decorated ones.

You happily ate the delicious cake, but you didn’t have to wait long, as you saw Harrison walk out of the kitchen wearing an apron.

He smiled at you.

“Hi”

“Hi, so you work here!”

“Yes, I’m one of the owners and the pastry chef.”

“Really? Then I must say that this cake is the best I have ever had.”

“Thank you.”

Then an awkward silence came between you two. You went back to drink your coffee.

“So, about your bumper, I have to take responsibility. It was my fault that I bumped into you, I knew the road was slippery and I didn’t keep my distance.”

You offered him a smile.

“It’s fine, really. It wasn’t that bad either, you don’t need to stress it.”

“Yes, I have to! It was my fault! And I saw the bill, don’t tell me it wasn’t bad.”

“You see, I earn enough to afford it, I wouldn’t have bought such a car otherwise…. You know what? How about you pay me back, but not with money!” his eyes suddenly widened and that’s when you realized how bad your words sounded.

“No! No! Don’t think about that. I meant like… Bake me a cake, please. For Christmas. You see, we will have a little party in the office, and I bring the cake every year. I used to make it, but since my promotion, I don’t have much time so I just ordered it from a place, but it wasn’t too good. So, how about you make me a Cake for ten people, some cupcakes and maybe if you have the time a few cookies?”

“That’s…That’s a great idea, but it isn’t the value of the damage I caused.”

“Stop worrying about that! So, give me the goodies, and we are even fine?” you held your pinkie out for him as a promise. He, a bit hesitantly, but agreed in the end.

***

On the day of the party, he said he would deliver the sweets himself, so now you were waiting for him to call so you can pick it up.

But of course, meanwhile, your lovely co-workers were teasing you up and down about him.

“Is he cute?” many asked, and the answer was always, very.

Then, you got his call. You took the elevator and surely enough, he was standing right in front of the building with boxes in his hands.

“Harrison! Hi.” you called when you noticed he was paying more attention to the height of the building then you approaching him.

“Wow, you work here?”

“Yes.” you thought that he just realized how different the two of you were. Him, owning a shot and you working for a huge business, literally.

“I brought you everything you asked for, I’ll help you bring them in.” he said after he was finished admiring the tower, but as he turned his head and looked at you, he noticed that you weren’t wearing your usual clothes. It was a more casual look on you, and he liked it. “You look beautiful,” he said before he can even think.

“Thank you!”

During the elevator ride, silence was between the two of you, with only him and you there, you wondered if it would be fine to ask.

“H-Harrison, can I ask you something?” he looked at you, facing him, you took in his gorgeous sea-blue eyes. You blushed a little.

“Sure.”

“Is-Am I… how should I ask this? Are we- what flavor is the cake?” you couldn’t do it.

“Oh… Chocolate and vanilla.” he looked, disappointed?

The elevator came to a stop.

“OH Y/N’s back! And look she brought someone!”

“Yes, this is Harrison, he made the sweets for us.”

“Good, good. Now, will you stay and celebrate with us, Harrison?”

“I don’t think he wants to, but if you do…it is fine…”

He ended up staying. Thankfully no one mentioned that they knew who he was. Harrison looked like he enjoyed himself.

You didn’t notice the time and when it was time to leave, you offered Harrison a ride, which he took.

So now, you were in the car with the man you thought might be your soulmate, other than that, you barely knew anything about him, but the way he looked at you, you wanted to find out the reason behind it.

“Turn left here. We are nearly there,” he instructed.

“Okay. Oh, you live close to the shop.”

“Yeah, it’s more convenient this way. That’s it with the blue fence. You can stop there.” he pointed at a parking space.”

After you stopped you thought he might get out fast and just forget you, but no, he just sat there, deep in thought. Finally, he decided to speak up.

“You know, I never found it to be fair. This whole soulmate-thing. I always wanted that both men and women would feel the start of the connection at the same. A-and that day, when I ran into you, I just wasn’t expecting it. For it to happen this way.” he let out a laugh, you decided to just stay silent and let him finish. “Leave it to me to find you like this. I was terrified, running into such a car, I thought I will pay with my life. But instead of a thug or some mobster, you got out and smiled. Now I know what that feeling is when others say ‘they just knew’ because I did too. When I saw you… I just knew. You think I’m weird right?” he laughed at himself. He didn’t expect an answer though.

“No. You are not weird. I somehow knew as well. Just the way you’d look at me, it was pretty obvious, but I didn’t want to let myself believe in dreams. But now, you confirmed them for me.” you smiled at him a genuine, sweet smile. He finally looked at you.

“What did you think of me when you first saw me?”

“Honestly?” he gave a nod, yes. “My exact thoughts were ‘Wow, it’s not fair for a man to have such beautiful eyes.’ and then I went to your shop. And I felt like it was just like you. With the flowers and plants. That baby blue wall. The pictures on the wall. Even the dark wood for the display. It was like a piece of you. But we can only be sure if you kiss me.”

He started to lean over and close his eyes. But you stopped him.

“Not here, mister. Maybe bring me on a date, Friday? Sound good? At eight? How about the park near here? They have a really good bar there, the wine and the cocktails just amazing.”

“Yeah, right sorry. I’m the man, I’m supposed to say these things.”

“Who says?”

“Um… masculinity?” you laughed at his answer.

“Right, so drinks there and maybe but only if I truly like you, you can kiss me in front of the pond.”

You looked into his eyes and they were full of determination. He wanted to prove a point and make you like him, even before the soulmate connection.

“Fine by me. Be prepared to be blown away. I’m quite the romantic type.”

“I’m more than ready. Text me.” you said as you kissed him on the cheek.

“I will.”

***

Friday evening came.

It was currently almost midnight and you may or may not be tipsy with Harrison helping you walk straight. The problem? You were a rather horny drunk.

“I told you the wine is gooood.”

“I was. But it was expensive as hell.”

“Yeah, my taste is rather… what’s the word?”

“Fancy?”

“YES! Fancy, like me.”

“Sure is, Love.”

“Oooooh, do that again!”

“Hm?”

“Call me Love again and I will lose my panties right here, right now. With that accent and lipppps and eyes. How can you be real? WAIT are you an alien? Did someone sent you for me?”

“No, Love.” he whispered the last word into your ear, making you shiver in the winter evening.

Suddenly you stopped, but Harrison didn’t notice for a minute. The next thing he knew your hand was inside his jacket’s pocket.

“Where to now?” you asked.

“To the pond. You said I can kiss you there.”

“I said maybe Mr. Gorgeous Eyes.”

“Is there anything else you like about me besides my eye colour?”

“Hmmm…. Lips, jawline. But you are funny, I nearly peed myself in there. I like how much patience and affection you have for others and me. And I also happen to like your butt. OH OH and those biceps….hmmm.” you let out a sigh. “HEY and what about you, what do you like about me? Since it seems like you are already connected to me.”

He started walking again before he answered.

“I love your laugh. Your smile is beautiful it brightens up the room. I love how smooth your hair looks even if I never touched it. And you know. You are so fucking sexy, it drives me wild.”

“Gooood. At least I know Chanel is worth its money.”

“Oh please, even with a paper bag on, you’d look like a Goddess.”

You didn’t even notice that when he stopped this time, it was right by the pond. You blushed a little.

No words were spoken after that. There was no need as he leaned down to your level and captured your lips with his.

It was a simple kiss. Like a looong peck.

And that’s when you felt it. As soon as his soft lips connected with yours, your heart also did with his.

The feelings confused you a little. It was love, passion, lust, affection, and longing at the same time.

When he pulled away all you could do was look into his eyes, the moon and the lights around the park reflected on the surface of the pond which gave his face light. Only a second passed before you pulled him in for more, but this one was different. This one was full of passion. This was a kiss between two souls who had finally became one.

When you ran out of breath you pulled away from him, he gave out a groan of dissatisfaction. You hugged him with your head on his chest.

“So this is how it feels like.”

“Pretty good right?”

“Amazing.”

A few minutes of hugging passed and you became tired.

“Can you take me home?” you asked him.

“Sure, where do you live?” you lifted your hand and pointed at a skyscraper.

“Up there.”

“Very funny, Y/N.”

“I’m not joking! I live THERE!”

“So, you are telling me that you drive an expensive car around, have designer clothes and you live in a penthouse up THERE?”

“Yessss, and I love you.” his heart skipped a beat.

“I love you too. Let me kiss you again.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

And after another hot kiss, you pulled back and started to walk away from him.

“It’s cold, let go home.” you said as you stopped and turned back for him. You put your hands into your pockets and waited for him. When he mimicked your movement and placed his hand into his pockets, you smirked and started to walk.

Harrison became confused, something was in his pocket. He couldn’t help but look at the thing with opened mouth and round eyes.

A thong.

“I told you. Calling me Love without any consequence? I think not.”

He placed the clothing back to his pocket and jogged to catch up to you.

“Love” he whispered into your ear, as you turned your head, he gave you a final kiss.

Soulmates or not, you definitely loved this guy.

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[excorcismic]

ALRIGHT SO HERE’S THE DEAL ; if misa is my first favorite death note character , this angy kid right here is my second - i adore mello to pieces and he’s very close to misa in terms of how much i love him , but ultimately does she remain queen . but ! the cool thing is that in the series they never actually interact ( the closest being mello spying on her for a brief period of time ) which means i could play my two blonde fashion icons and voila , here they are . so here’s the gist on mello in canon & alucard and most importantly the plots i am digging bc my muse for him rn ?? is off the charts . LESGO !

IN A CANON NUTSHELL ( HUGE DEATH NOTE SPOILERS ) : So Mello’s introduced during the latter half of Death Note ( or maybe it’s more the final third but either way there’s a part where it significantly breaks in two ) - or , the very end of the first half , takes center stage during the second . He’s from the original home of the detective L , an orphanage of gifted children known as Whammy’s House - and essentially , the goal of the children is to maybe one day live up to L , one person taking his place . Mello !! Is one of the candidates . But he has a permanent chip on his shoulder since Near - the other candidate - always managed to beat him at everything . So when Light Yagami gets his way & L dies , Near and Mello are told that L didn’t choose a successor between them . When the idea that they work together to do just that is brought up , Near ( who honestly really liked Mello ) is like ‘hey! let’s do it’ and Mello ( still angy that Near is always right in front of him ) is like ‘FUCK you I’m gonna catch Kira myself’ and leaves the orphanage . Five years later , he works with the mafia , even getting his hands on a Death Note & with the help of a shinigami ( that he scared the living piss out of ) concludes that a rule that states a human will die if they haven’t written in the notebook in thirteen days is fake . He also like , blackmails the president and orchestrates an explosion that Soichiro Yagami dies after but he gets a wicked ass scar afterwards so it’s okay . Now working with L’s third potential successor , Matt , he spies on Misa Amane and makes connections between the second L ( Light Yagami ) & Kira , deduces that Kiyomi Takada is an accomplice , and kidnaps her to try and expose Kira as Light Yagami - but . . . he dies in the process , and so does Matt . The cool thing is though his discoveries led to Near’s breakthrough in the Kira case ( as he and Near met one last time , where he gives Mello the photo he has here in Alucard ) and Mello kind of gets the last laugh post-mortem . And also a kind of neat thing , his last appearance is as the narrator in the Death Note prequel , the Los Angeles BB murder cases - I’m gonna quote the whole thing in my eventual intro but ! It’s an awesome book and Mello is an awesome narrator . ( dn spoilers end here tyvm )

IN AN ALUCARD NUTSHELL - So Mihael Keehl ( his real name in canon , mind you ) is a twenty year-old runaway from the foster system - also sometimes lived in an orphanage but when he wasn’t , the constant tossing around because of his rebellious tendencies wrecked him . He isn’t employed , not does he actually have an actual home - living in a beat down truck most of the time if he can’t get a motel / hotel room for a night or a few . He makes basic expenses and fills his basic needs by doing odd jobs in exchange for money or favors - stuff like ‘if I do this for you for x amount of days or I get this for you you’ll pay for my phone bill for the next two months’ and that stuff . Basic arrangements . And he knows he can like , maybe try to commit to a job or a home but he’s actually . . . way too fucking scared of being tied down or in a worse situation that’s somehow more stable so the nomad life is kind of what he sticks with . But he’s homeless & it’s not good for him . At all . He’ll never flat-out admit that though which is why he calls himself a drifter . His main reason for being on his own , and refusing any extensive help from anyone outside of these favors , is because he has a point to prove - because that inferiority complex kicks in because the other kids he grew up against are doing amazing things and he wants to do better , and not receive any large amount of help . He just ,,, doesn’t understand he’s not doin’ any good for himself .

BUT OOOOOOOH YOU WANNA PLOT WITH MELLO SO BAD OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

so the biggest connection in the sense that it’s the most open , i mentioned that mello mainly pays for his own expenses ( or more so , gets other people to pay for them ) by doing favors or small jobs in exchange for either money or other forms of payment . so obviously , people he has these arrangements with - they can range from anything , mello is extremely smart ( a thing that comes up is that he has a shit ton of wasted potential ) in the books , technology , the streets and has a bunch of small talents he’s picked up over the years of living on his own ( saving money , sewing and mending / caring for clothes how else is he gonna keep that amazing fashion , cooking with very little ingredients , cleaning with little tools , fixing the kinks / souping up automobiles , ahem sexual stuff , tutoring , sometimes even mild illegal shit , you name it . ) so he can offer these talents / skills / etc . to other people who could use them ( most of the time repeatedly ) and in exchange , the other muses will pay him in cash or by doing things like paying his phone bill , car insurance , health insurance , food / groceries , hotel/motel room for a few nights , or even just offering him a place to use the shower or bathroom or even a bed for certain days of the week . This can also lead to many of the other plots I have listed here in the sense it’s a start , and it can happen with anyone , anywhere , for any reason .

literally the thing w/ mel is that he knows no limits and will do anything for anyone and is hardheaded as fuck about it because he’s got a point to prove and things to do and he won’t waste time refusing but the moment you offer your help in exchange for nothing or you’re trying to hold his hand a little too much and he catches on , the arrangement’s over and you’ll be lucky to see him again .

okay so uh . in that sense ?? maybe ppl who kind of helped him out and he did like . one thing for them and once he got his payment for that one thing he kinda bounced n they never heard from him again for whatever reason . nothing against them but he rly isn’t gonna make a habit of staying in one place for too long . 

obviously , those people that really think he’s gotta give up the ghost of trying to survive like this bc it’s wearing on his health & he doesn’t wanna admit it . and he’s tried shaking them off but he won’t leave and sometimes he’s forced to give into the help they offer but tries making them take a payment back .

old peers that felt whatever way about him back then but feel pity for his wasted potential ( at the moment ) , bc this dude was like . . . a straight-a student and was rly good at a bunch of things and now he’s living the way he is . whatever they wanna do and however they felt about him and how he interacted with them back then Differs but . there’s kind of like ‘damn u live like this’ now . gimme some kids who had crushes on him , kids he was rivals with , kids he got into fights with and maybe socked in the jaw a few times , kids who always admired him , kids who hated his guts - it always comes down to what life is like now vs. what life was like then .

i’d like some friends who were formed from the favors - and maybe they’ve stopped whatever they had with him but they still regularly hang out or something , maybe offer a place to stay for the night . 

just in general ?? people who keep their home open for him and whether he takes them up on their offer on a rare basis .

pls some folks trick him into accepting their help like leave him basket of chocolate candy and trap him or something like just . make it ‘wait what’ deal bc they all know he’s stubborn .

also uh . he’s been arrested for minor offenses a few times so some ppl who’ve bailed him out pls and he’s tryna repay him back .

mentor figures . mentor figures pls he’s trying not to accept their mentor-y guidance from .

so maybe the hero  . . . maybe the one person who was like the l to mello of alucard ( maybe even the Man himself ) that he just . looked up to forever and probably still does .

. . . favor idea ?? maybe he’s a stand-in boyfriend or date for events or somethin’ like mello kinda has that bad boy reputation but maybe he dated them for show on their whim at some point or they have that kinda thing ‘pls pretend to my boyfriend and i’ll let u use my shower every weekend for the next month’ or so .

also , one night stands or friends with benefits he uses only for the bathroom / a place to sleep . folks he’s dated for a period bc he did feel something and therefore he had them as an outlet but then broke up with them ( most likely ?? he was the one who ended it bc he has never known love stability & got spooked on it ending and just - did it on his own accord before he could further get hurt BUT THAT NEVER WORKS and he has hella commitement issues ) and tried to shrug it off as ‘ just another fling ’ even tho he’s highkey sad over it . ppl he’s slept with and then disappears with only a ‘thank you’ note as the evidence he was there . and do they accept it ?? are they pissed over it ?? that is up to You but it’s probably gotten around that mihael keehl has never had a stable relationship and never , ever stays . 

lots of ppl he probs has the above two arrangements or scenarios with bc again , gotta get shit done somehow .

enemies . . . he has an endless grudge with for some reason like maybe they screwed him over , 

i want . . . folks he can eventually get soft with and maybe actually seek that comfort in even tho u gotta chip at the five thousand concrete walls to get to that stage . i want to see him become better and that’s an ultimate goal for him in alucard ( even though it’s gonna be a bit more difficult with his memories returning ) to get better , commit to something , accept stability and get his life on a better track .

and yes , that includes an eventual ship ! really it can build off of any of these dynamics just . give me sneaking in through windows late at night , soft words and gentle kisses and protective hugs and please stay i know you never stay but please stay with me and the thought that maybe he should leave but he doesn’t and they wake up with him after a night and he’s still there and maybe there’s a scare he left like he always does but he made chocolate chip pancakes and he feels safe & alright which is . . . a rare occasion in his messy ass life . maybe something like friends to lovers , fwb to lovers , an old flame , anything this could be fun to do !! end goal though , i’d like something on the softer side that’s healthy and loving because that’s really what he needs . 

( some notes tho bc he’s only twenty i’ll sayyyy max i’ll do the more romantic / spicier stuff with in that aspect is . . . 23 - 24 ?? bc he’s almost 21 like if we put the fact we’re in october into account and his birthday is december 13th that isn’t too far away so . That’s That . he’s also pan as fuck . )

BUT , yes . the main connections / plots there are what i can think of . ik a lot of these are so wordy and i’m sorry bt as always ! i will take literally anything i love plots and i think with what i have for mello there is so much potential in what we can do here .

and as always . give me other death note characters . near or matt specifically would fucking make me cry and i’m here for it .

[hatari-translations]

Kappsmál (25.10.19) - translation

Kappsmál is a game show on RÚV about the Icelandic language; I think it started this year. The title itself is a play on words: kappsmál means an issue or aspiration of great importance to someone, but it's a compound of "kapp" (race/contest) and "mál" (which in the actual word means an issue, but also means language).

On October 25th’s episode, Matthías was one of the contestants on this show, his teammate being Alma Mjöll Ólafsdóttir, his housemate and one of his partners in the Little Kettle Theatre Company (Ketiltetur) in 2016, which I've translated an article about before. Thus, I have taken on the Herculean task of translating a game show about Icelandic wordplay. Oh boy. Strap yourselves in.

I'm not going to translate every word that is said; I'll translate Matthías and anything that provides context to something he says, but otherwise mostly give the gist of what's said. However, I will be explaining everything that's going on in the show, what the rounds are about and the words, wordplay and grammatical concepts involved. So this is going to be one for my Icelandic-curious readers!

The female host (Björg Magnúsdóttir) begins by introducing it as the show where Icelandic is "the alpha and the omega". She asks the male host, Bragi Valdimar Skúlason, what he's been up to tonight, and he says that he's been thinking about words that share the same letters and go together, which he calls "Siamese words", such as "traust sturta" (a sturdy shower). What kind of vehicle do you travel on between countries? "Iðulega galeiðu" (usually a galley).

Björg introduces the contestants, asking each one what they think is the most difficult Icelandic word. The first is actress and playwright Vala Kristín Eiríksdóttir, who says she was about to use "ströggla", which is slang, an Icelandicization of the English verb "to struggle", to describe her difficulties with the word "spúla", which means to wash something with a high-pressure water pump; some people say it's "smúla". Bragi agrees that people are divided on the matter; he grew up saying "spúla" but then he started working at a freezing plant and they'd say "smúla".

Her teammate is actress Júlíana Sara Gunnarsdóttir; the two of them form a comedy duo. Júlíana's most difficult word is declining the word "ær" (a female sheep). This word is one of a few that are infamously counterintuitive and people get them wrong all the time; the four cases go ær - á - á - ær. Björg says that, but then Júlíana challenges her on the plural, ær - ær - ám - áa. (The plural actually is more intuitive than the singular, but Björg still admits defeat.) Bragi quips, "Þess vegna var kindin fundin upp", or "That's why they invented the sheep", except that he's obviously referencing the word "kind", which also means a sheep but is easier to decline.

Matthías is introduced next, as a "playwright, hater [hatari] and of course Eurovision contestant. Matthías likes to fry asparagus in butter and garlic and enjoys boiling beans in a pot and putting into taco shells." His most difficult word is "ímyndunarveiki" - which is apparently officially defined as hypochondria, but in casual usage I've always felt it to mean being delusional or just overly lost in flights of fancy. Literally, this is a compound that means "imagination sickness", and Matthías says, "Because why is that a sickness?" He asks why it's not "ímyndunargleði", which is literally "imagination joy". When -gleði is used as a suffix, it tends be a word used to describe someone who enjoys something - e.g. "vinnugleði" for someone who's enthusiastic about their work - so "ímyndunargleði" would just mean "liking imagination".

Matthías goes on: "I think that's hard. Why is it a sickness to be imagination..." Björg suggests there's a kind of shame to it. "Yeah, it's a kind of imagination-shaming." Júlíana says, "That's how a playwright thinks." Matthías says "Yeah, isn't it? Why... I don't know. It seems very loaded, somehow. That's why I'd like to suggest ímyndunargleði."

Alma Mjöll, journalist, twin and author of opinion columns and stage projects, apparently likes to make guacamole for the aforementioned taco shells, because she and Matthías live together. Her most difficult Icelandic word is "brúðkaup" (wedding), which is a compound of "brúður" (bride) and "kaup" (purchase). She doesn't want to get married until this word has been changed, because of the dodgy connotations of that compound. Matthías nods. She also doesn't like "gifting" (marriage), which like in English implies the bride is a gift. Björg asks how she feels about "að ganga í hjónaband", another alternative that literally means "to go into a couple bond". Alma doesn't feel like that's neutral either, but some of the others suggest that's just a bond between individuals; she says she'll think about it.

Björg says "So you two just want to exterminate those two words." Matthías says "Yes. We're here to exterminate."

Next, the teams get names, which are created by Bragi by taking letters from their combined first names and making a word out of them. For Vala Kristín and Júlíana Sara, Bragi suggests Vínsala (a wine store), Snúllar (snúlla is a sort of general cutesy nickname, along the lines of "cutiepie"), Vínkjallarar (wine cellars) or Kínarúlla (Chinese roll), but ended up on Sjakalar (jackals). For Matthías and Alma Mjöll, he suggest Maísmjöl (corn flour), Tímatal (reckoning/calendar), Mjaltatíma (milking time) or Maltöl (malt beer, very popular in Iceland), but settled on Smjatt (the sound that you make when chewing loudly). Alma Mjöll gasps and calls it perfect. Matthías says something in response to this but I'm not quite sure what it is; it sounds like "Wasn't Smjatt going to come tonight?", but I'm not sure what he could be referencing there and I can't hear it super clearly.

Finally time for the actual game show! The first round is "The letter", where the contestants are given categories, and they're supposed to come up with as many words as possible that fall into this category and start with a given letter in ten seconds. For this episode, the letter is V.

Sjakalar go first.

The first category is "Men's names". They come up with Valur, Vignir, Vigfús, Valdimar, Villi and Víðir, all pretty common Icelandic men's names.

Next, they get "Animals" and only come up with "valur" again (which means a falcon in addition to being a name).

Next, "Verbs". Vaða (wade), velja (choose), vera (be), vakna (wake), vilja (want), vona (hope), and vita (know).

Then, "Cities". Varsjá (Warsaw), Vilnius, and “Volga no that's a river.”

"Jobs". Viðgerðarmaður (repairman) and verkamaður (labourer).

Next, they go over the answers. Bragi adds vatnabuffall (water buffalo), villisvín (hog) and vambi (wombat) to the animal category, and Björg suggests vampíra (vampire), though that one's obviously pretty dubious. They get 17 points all together.

Next, still a part of the letter round, they're supposed to see pictures of things that usually start with a V, only they're supposed to come up with new words for them that don't start with a V.

The first picture shows lipstick (varalitur). Vala comes up with "litastifti" (color stick). Júlíana starts to say "túss-" (marker), but doesn't manage to finish what was presumably meant to be a compound in time.

Next they get waders (vöðlur). Vala comes up with "vatnabuxur" (water pants), but unfortunately that also starts with a V. Then "buxnahlíf" (pants cover) and "fiskigræja" (fishing gear).

Then a flashlight (vasaljós), for which Vala suggests "ljósastöng" (light stick). Júlíana says "ljósapera", which is totally not a new word, it's just the word for a lightbulb. Vala comes up with "lýsiskaft" (lighting grip) and "ljósatæki" (light machine).

Next, a steamroller (valtari). Júlíana suggests "bílatrukkur" (car truck), Vala "vinnutæki" (work machine), then Júlíana "bílatæki" (car machine).

Finally, a vampire (vampíra). Vala suggests "blóðkona" (blood woman), "dauðadís" (death woman) and "dauðavera" (death creature); Júlíana "blóðmaður" (blood man).

Out of these, Bragi considers the lipstick, flashlight and vampire categories to have received valid contributions, with "litastifti", "lýsiskaft" and "dauðadís". I'm guessing this is judged subjectively. For this, they get six points, ending with 23.

Next up is Smjatt, still with the letter V, starting with the things that actually start with V.

For the category "Women's names", they come up with Vala, Valgerður and Vigdís, plus Matthías says "Vonheiður" and "Valheiður", which are not actually names but do sound like they could be, and Alma says "vinkona" (female friend) and "vorheiða", which are definitely not names.

Next, "Clothing". Matthías immediately says "vatnabuxur" (the water pants from earlier), but unfortunately doesn't come up with the original word, "vöðlur". Then "vínfatnaður" (wine clothes), and Alma says "vorklæðnaður" (spring clothes). Matthías adds "vorklæði" (spring clothes again) and "vorhúfa" (spring hat).

Then "Adjectives". Matthías says "vænn" (good), Alma says "vongóður" (hopeful), Matthías says "vær" (peaceful, as in sleeping peacefully), Alma says "veikur" (sick) and "veiklulegur" (sickly).

"Machines and tools". Matthías says "vísindaglas" (science glass, which is not actually what we call a vial).

"Companies". Matthías says "Velcro" (not Icelandic, but okay), Alma says "Valitor" (which is). Matthías says "Vinabær" (friend town), which actually exists and is apparently a place that hosts bingo. Alma says "Viss ehf.", a mobile phone insurance company.

Bragi thinks Vonheiður and Vorheiða should totally be names. When he gets to the machines and tools category, Matthías asks, "Can you help us a bit there?" Bragi suggests "vélsög" (chainsaw), "vélbor" (power drill) and "valtari" (steamroller). All in all, this got them 14 points.

Next, for the new words that don't start with a V:

First, a crib (vagga). Alma suggests "barnarúm" (child bed), Matthías "barnadýna" (child mattress) and then "barnadýnugrind" (child mattress frame), Alma "barnagrind" (child frame), which is very unlikely to catch on because it's frighteningly close to "barnagirnd" (pedophilia). Matthías says "barnahristir" (child shaker), which is hilarious, and "barnasvæfir" (child put-to-sleep-er).

Then, a glass of water (vatnsglas). Matthías says "glesill" (an actual proper non-compound neologism deriving from "glas" with a vowel shift), "drykkjarfang" (drinking utensil, already a word) and "drykkjarberi" (drink carrier).

Next, a waffle (vaffla). Matthías suggests "Belgíuskonsa" (Belgian scone), "Belgíubrauð" (Belgian bread), "Belgíuvinur" (Belgian friend) and "Belgíumatur" (Belgian food). Alma says "ekkipansa" (not a pancake), which is also amazing.

Then, some grapes (vínber). Matthías suggests "Ameríkurúsínur" (American raisins), and Alma starts to say Brazilian something but the time runs out.

Finally, an alarm clock (vekjaraklukka). Alma says "klukkuvinur" (clock friend), Matthías says "morgunhani" (morning rooster, also a term for an early riser) and "morgunfjandi" (morning devil).

Bragi judges "barnasvæfir", "glesill"/"drykkjarberi", "Belgíubrauð"/"Belgíuskonsa" and "morgunfjandi" to be valid, and thus they get eight points, ending with 22.

The next round is "Óorð", which can mean slander, but is literally "Un-words". In this round, they will see four words, of which one does not exist: it's an unword. The contestants need to guess which is the unword and what the other three words mean.

Sjakalar start again. The four words are "Draumhugi" (dream mind), "Draumsvæfa" (dream sleeper), "Svefnpungur" (sleep scrotum) and "Bliksvefn" (flicker sleep). They guess that the unword is draumsvæfa; svefnpungur sounds like it'd be fake, but something about it sounds familiar. They are correct. They also correctly guess that "draumhugi" is basically equivalent to the English word "dreamer" - someone who daydreams. Matthías suggests maybe such a person is ímyndunarglaður; Vala suggests "ímyndunarvirkur" (imagination-active).

For svefnpungur, Vala first thinks of a sleep mask but she knows that's not it. Júlíana suggests it might be similar to "svefnpurka", which is a gently derogatory term for someone who sleeps a lot, like "sleepyhead". Then she suggests maybe it's just a pillow. This is incorrect, so they ask Smjatt for their take. Matthías asks as an aside whether it's svefnpurka or svefnburka, but the answer is inconclusive (it's definitely svefnpurka, what). Alma suggests either it's where you put your money while you sleep, or it's somebody who's really grumpy in the morning. Bragi explains that it's actually just bags under your eyes. (I have never heard this word, but it makes a lot of sense.)

They guess bliksvefn is dozing off shallowly. That's wrong. Matthías suggests when you fall asleep suddenly. Bragi explains it's actually REM sleep (where your eyes flicker), which immediately makes sense to everyone. Icelandic compounds can be cool and transparent like that.

The next batch of words, for Team Smjatt, is "Næturgöltur" (night hog), "Náttsvín" (night pig), "Náttfilla" (night membrane), and "Blóðnætur" (blood nights). Matthías says, "I think it's suspicious that that filla doesn't have a y" - fylla is a common word meaning fill, filla is a word that I had to look up in a dictionary just now. Alma comments on how there's both næturgöltur and náttsvín; Matthías says "Yes, they're trying to trick us." At "blóðnætur" he just blinks and says "I have no clue. We are being lassoed into a trap." Matthías thinks the unword is "náttfilla", because what is a filla without a y. Alma thinks it's næturgöltur. They go with næturgöltur, but it's actually náttsvín. Alma thinks náttsvín sounds cuter than næturgöltur.

Now they're supposed to guess what næturgöltur is. Alma suggests someone who misbehaves in their sleep. Matthías suggests, "Someone who sleepwalks, makes noise, swears..." Then he suggests maybe it's a nocturnal animal, maybe in forests. This is wrong, so the question goes over to Sjakalar. Júlíana says it just makes her think of her husband, who snores a lot.

Bragi explains it's actually not "göltur" as in hog, it's a different word that means wandering - so næturgöltur is wandering in the night. Matthías asks if the animal is actually derived from this other word, which Bragi says it is!

Time for the mysterious náttfilla. Matthías and Alma jokingly pronounce it as if it were Swedish, then Matthías says, "I'm just going to admit that I have no idea." Alma suggests maybe it's a piece of clothing. Bragi throws it over to the other team; Vala says she thinks it's derived from "fullur" (full) and that it means when you get a full night's sleep, but as Bragi points out, she got confused there; if it were derived from fullur it would have a y. Vala can hear her mother's disappointment in her. Bragi explains it's actually a nighttime fog.

Finally, we're looking at blóðnætur. Matthías says "See, we had vampires, or night women, or what was it - death women. So that's where I'm at." Alma suggests, "Something bad happened this night." He agrees; "The blood nights, where a lot of people died. They were great blood nights." Bragi says they're on the right track, but not quite. Sjakalar suggest it's when the sky is red at sunset. My guess would have been that it means a period, as in menstruation, but no, apparently it's "the time just after a man has been slain, when the thirst for revenge is at its peak". #relatable, eh?

All in all, Sjakalar got seven points, and Smjatt got zero, leaving Sjakalar with 30 and Smjatt with 22.

The next round is "The Pump". In this one, a combination of letters is displayed, and then each contestant in turn has to name a word starting with this exact combination of letters in a few seconds; if they fail, they're eliminated. The letters are "Tja", and:

Vala: tjara (tar)

Júlíana: tjald (tent)

Matthías: Tjarnargata (Pond Street, a street in Reykjavík)

Alma: tjaldur (Eurasian oystercatcher, a bird common in Iceland)

Vala: tjasla (to patch something together)

Júlíana: "tjassa" (not a word; she's eliminated)

Matthías: tjatta (Icelandicization of "to chat")

At this, they stop. Bragi is doubtful. Matthías says "Young people do it every day." "Doesn't that have a ch?" asks Björg. Matthías says he thought the Icelandic version had a tj. "I thought it was such a progressive language." For what it's worth I agree with him; c is not a letter in Icelandic and if you're using the word at all it should be spelled with a tj. But it's not yet in the dictionary of modern Icelandic, so Matthías is out. We continue:

Alma: tjaldbúðir (camp)

Vala: tjaldvagn (wagon)

Alma: tjaldstöng (tentpole)

Vala: tjaldútilega (tent camping)

Alma: "That's not a word! tjald...aðu" (pitch a tent, imperative)

Vala: tjaldsvæði (camping ground)

Alma: tjarnarhringur (a circle around a pond; might be, for example, walking around the Pond in Reykjavík)

Vala: Tjarnarbíó (Pond Cinema, a theater near the Pond in Reykjavík)

Alma: tjarnardrulla (pond mud)

And at that Bragi stops her; it's not in the dictionary. With that, Sjakalar get five more points, jumping up to 35. Matthías says "I'm still in shock about the chat." Bragi says he has a certain sympathy for him.

The next round is "Þvers og kruss", which is an idiom meaning "all over the place" or "back and forth", but it's reminiscent of a crossword; þvers means across, and kruss is apparently a sailing term but sounds like kross (cross). It's basically like two simultaneous rounds of hangman, where the two words cross each other, and the teams take turns guessing a letter, which might help the other team.

Team Smjatt gets to pick which word they want; they pick across/horizontal. Björg asks why, and Matthías says with a shrug, "She asked what my feeling was, and I just..."

To help, they're told the words are both birds. (Matthías says something, but I can't make it out.)

For the first letter guess, Matthías and Alma guess T, which appears twice in the other word but not at all in theirs.

Team Sjakalar guess Ð, but there's no Ð in either word.

Next Matthías says, "We want E." There is one E in their word, and Matthías says "Smjattið er ekki dautt", or "The chewing isn't dead," obviously referring to their team.

Sjakalar guess I, of which there is one in their word.

Smjatt guess S, of which there is none. Matthías says "Þetta er ógeðslega spenandi", which means "This is incredibly exciting." You may recognize the word "ógeðslegur" from Klámstrákur; it literally means "disgusting", but in this adverb form it's used frequently as a generic intensifier.

Team Sjakalar guess U, which is in their own word again.

For their next guess, Matthías and Alma are whispering to each other. Matthías suggests N, and Alma goes "Yeah... no!" Matthías says "But then we're just out." Presumably they're thinking of the fact it's very likely N is in Sjakalar's word as well (it's one of the most common letters in Icelandic). They end up going with K. Matthías says "We're still just shooting in the dark." Luckily, there are indeed two K's in their word.

Sjakalar guess Ú. (Note how U and Ú are considered completely separate letters in Icelandic.) There is an Ú in their word, and at this point I know it's "Turtildúfa" (turtle dove).

Smjatt is still having trouble. Matthías: "U...O?" Alma: "No, stop." Matthías: "I'm just saying, taking a shot, taking risks." Alma: "Okay, take risks. You do that." So they guess O, which is in neither word.

Sjakalar guess F. They've probably worked out their word too.

Matthías asks if they've guessed B yet, which they haven't. "We might maybe want to guess that." Bragi says "Very good letter, one of the best, but it's not in these words." Björg says "Það eru smá áföll að dynja yfir smjattið", which you might translate as something like "There are some setbacks raining down on the chewing."

Sjakalar guess L, which is of course also in their word.

Matthías is confused that there isn't an I at the end of theirs - a word ending in -ki would be pretty typical. (Their word is probably actually something ending in "kráka", or crow.) Matthías: "H!" Alma: "M!" Matthías: "Or M!" But then they both go with H, which is not in either word.

Sjakalar guess D, predictably enough, but it's also the first letter of Matthías and Alma's word. At this point I figure it's probably "Dvergkráka", or "dwarf crow" (Western jackdaw).

Matthías and Alma are still puzzled. Alma jokingly says "The bird Dekk", "dekk" being a car tire. Matthías says "We were just talking about this at home, Googling bird species. We didn't do it." Alma: "We didn't." Matthías: "Did you?" Alma: "I didn't." They go with R, of which there are two in their word, but unfortunately one overlaps with Sjakalar's.

This means Sjakalar have only one letter left, and they guess A and complete their word. Matthías says something like "Nú kannski kemur í ljós hvað þau voru... Fórnir til að ná árangri", or "Now maybe we'll find out what they were... Sacrifices for success”; not sure what he’s getting at. Bragi asks Team Smjatt if they know their word yet, but they look confused, and instead Júlíana guesses dvergkráka, at which Matthías and Alma clearly feel very stupid. Bragi calls it "A very nice bird, a friend to its friends."

Either way, Sjakalar have won the round and get ten points for it. They're now at 45 to Smjatt's 22.

For the next round, both teams have a bag with Scrabble tiles representing "Turtildúfa", except the D has been replaced with an S, and they're supposed to make a new word out of them, as long as they can, in sixty seconds. Bragi adds, "It has to be in the dictionary. No tjatt."

While the teams work on it, Björg and Bragi discuss how tjatt really should be at least in the slang dictionary, because people use it.

As the sixty seconds finish, Matthías asks, "Does it have to be in the nominative case?", which is the "default" case for words, the one you'd actually find in a dictionary - it doesn't. Their word is "súldar", which is the genitive case of "súld" (drizzle). Bragi muses it could also be the name of a country; Matthías says "The sultan of Súldar?" Sjakalar's word is "saltur" (salty). Alma: "Does that exist?" Matthías: "That exists." Alma: "I'm joking."

Bragi tells them they could theoretically have made the words "fúlastri" (a bit weird-sounding, but a form of "fúl" (grumpy/annoyed, feminine)) or "litfastur" ("color-stuck", something that doesn't change color easily). Matthías says "That would've been cool." "Trúlausi" (atheist) and "trúfasti" (faithful) are both also in there; Matthías says "Ah, we didn't see the 'trú'."

Either way, each team gets six points for making a word six letters long. They're now at Sjakalar 51, Smjatt 28.

It's time for another round of The Pump. Björg says "We're hearing groans of anguish from the contestants." Matthías: "It was so stressful last time." This time, rather than finding a word starting with the given letter combination, they must find a word with that letter combination in the middle of the word, but not at the start. The letters this time are "ölv".

Matthías: "Not the most pleasant word to start with, but ofurölvi!" (super drunk)

Alma: fölvi (paleness)

Vala: bölvun (curse)

Júlíana: völva (seeress)

Matthías: völvuspá (seeress prophecy; he makes a face at this, probably because he's actually thinking of the ancient poem Völuspá, but they give it a pass)

Alma: "ofurölvasssss... ohh!" She's out.

Vala: tölva (computer)

Júlíana: Sölva (masculine name)

Matthías: tölvuleikjaforritari (video game developer, I love him)

Vala: tölvuskjár (computer monitor)

Júlíana: mölva (smash to bits)

Matthías: "I'm just stuck on the computers. Tölvumús?" (computer mouse)

Vala: tölvuhleðslutæki (computer charger) - but she's too late and she's out.

Júlíana: tölvutækni (computer technology)

Matthías: tölvuleikjamót (video game tournament)

Júlíana: tölvutakkaborð ("computer button board" - she was obviously trying to say "tölvulyklaborð" (computer keyboard) but apparently this counts)

Matthías: tölvuleikjaleikmaður (video game player)

Júlíana: "Grölva?" Obviously just guessing, and this is not a word; she's out.

Thus, Matthías wins this round, and they get five points - 51 to 33.

The next round is called "Frasakássa", or "phrase casserole". They get a grid of letters and are supposed to find a line from an Icelandic pop song in it. After a few seconds Matthías asks, "They can be diagonal?"; they can be, but not backwards. Matthías and Alma end up getting it: "Haltu í höndina á mér og ekki sleppa" (hold my hand and don't let go), a lyric from the song Í síðasta skipti, which was apparently one of the Söngvakeppnin entries in 2015; I didn't follow the contest that year and don't think I've ever heard this song before.

They can get extra points by naming the songwriter(s). Smjatt guess Friðrik Dór [Jónsson]; Júlíana says Ásgeir Orri [Ásgeirsson] and Pálmi Ragnar [also Ásgeirsson; they are brothers]. They're all well-known songwriters, and it turns out all three of them worked together to write this song, so neither team gets points for that. Team Smjatt gets ten points for being the first to find the phrase, though, bringing them to 43 points. Matthías balks at getting ten whole points for this. Júlíana says yeah, it was hard, and Vala adds she'd started screaming a sentence from one of the Passion Hymns.

It's time for the final round of the night, "stafapressan" (Letter Press/Letter Pressure). They can choose a six-point, twelve-point or eighteen-point question. The way this works is that they get a phrase and a grammatical form to put it in; one team member has to say it out loud, and then the other has to spell it correctly.

Team Smjatt go first because they have fewer points. Alma says, "We could win." Matthías says, "You have to take risks to succeed. We did that for the last round." So they go with an eighteen-point question! Alma volunteers to spell, leaving Matthías with the task of declining the phrase correctly. When Björg asks if he's ready, he says "Oh my god."

His phrase is "velgja volgan elg" (to warm a lukewarm moose). They want this in the imperative singular superlative plural dative. (You may note there's both a singular and a plural in there. What they mean by it is that the imperative should be singular but the noun plural - that is, commanding one person to warm multiple of the lukewarmest moose. In Icelandic, the adjective is declined and pluralized along with the noun.)

Matthías doesn't take long to say, "Velgdu volgustu--" and then he pauses to decline "elgur" in the definite plural to be absolutely sure: "Hér eru elgirnir um elgina frá elgunum - velgdu volgustu elgunum." "Are you locking it like that?" "Yes." Very confident, and totally correct. Alma also spells it out without problems, and they get their eighteen points, putting them at 61 points, suddenly ten points ahead of Sjakalar. Bragi notes that "elgjunum" would also have been accepted.

It's time for Sjakalar to decide which difficulty they want. Júlíana notes that she's just thinking of winning, for which they'd need twelve points; Alma says "No, Vala, think of your mom!", referring back to Vala's earlier comment about how her mom would be so disappointed in her getting something wrong. But they decide to go with the twelve points, and Júlíana steps back to be the speller.

Vala's phrase is "sigggróið ilsig", or "a callused flatfoot", and they want the dative singular comparative definite form: the more callused flatfoot. With some difficulty, she comes up with "sigggrónara ilsigisins" - but unfortunately that's the genitive and not the dative, which she would definitely have known if she were putting it in a sentence, but it's confusing keeping track of all those grammatical cases under pressure. Júlíana panics at the looming time limit and also fails to correctly spell what Vala just said, and all in all they definitively lose the round, leaving them still with 51 points to Matthías and Alma's 61. Team Smjatt has claimed victory!

When Bragi explains Vala's error and that it should have been "sigggrónara ilsiginu", Alma quips, "A common mistake." Júlíana notes that she didn't think there was much of a difference between the difficulty of the twelve-point phrase and the eighteen-point phrase, which Matthías agrees with, and I have to agree too; I honestly think I probably would've had more trouble with sigggrónara ilsiginu than velgdu volgustu elgunum. (The latter was worth more points because it's three words rather than two.)

Vala says Júlíana's probably going to break off their professional relationship; Alma says it would've been worse if they'd lost, because they live together. "If I'd screwed it up in the final stretch with the moose..." Matthías: "Matthías, get out on the street."

Finally, for the viewers at home, they ask for social media suggestions for a word for the divider that you place on the conveyor at a store between your stuff and the people before and after you. Vala suggests there's already a word for that - "vöruaðskilnaðarferna", or "product separation cuboid" (or rather, presumably they're going for cuboid, but as it is the word "ferna" is exclusively used for cardboard containers around liquid, like milk cartons or juice boxes). This is an extremely, extremely awkward word and Matthías goes "Ugh!" Me too, Matthías.

As they ask for people to post their suggestions on the #kappsmál hashtag, they say "Just spray it out!", which just reminds me of Griðastaður, but that's probably not intended to be a reference.

[momofaddict]

Well, I'm almost 5 months in. The struggle seems to get worse instead of better, which I halfway expected. I felt so numb in the beginning and distracted with having to take care of a baby at 52 years old.

It is absolutely bizarre the range of emotions that I have felt. I'm sickened by the relief that I feel not having a deal with her addiction anymore. I'm excited, exhausted, and totally feel robbed of the grandmother experience that I've spoken of so many times. I feel embarrassed and like a shitty grandma that I feel relief when my ex takes the baby oftentimes. He never, ever, ever seems exhausted or ready for a break the way that I do. I love that baby with every fiber of my being. But I think I have not yet mourned the loss of the life that I thought I was building for myself. Not to mention my ex barely works at all, so it's easy for him to have energy and excitement for taking the baby as often as possible. He has his own business painting houses. And between losing his daughter, his own depression, and the coronavirus pandemic, he has hardly worked lately. So on top of everything else, I'm paying his bills, because without that, he's unable to help me with the baby.

After Melody died we decided as a family that it would be best that my ex move into the dreaded condo. This is the same condo that my ex-mother-in-law lived in when she had her heart attack. And the same condo that my daughter overdosed in. But that fucking condo is paid off, it was bought with cash. So, because my ex was essentially homeless, he has to live there if he's going to help me. And the only bills are the HOA, and the utilities. Plus there's the added expense of Melody's car that my ex is driving, the car payments that go with it along with the insurance payments. So I'm literally paying all of those plus my own bills so I can have a few days on my own... Until the long awaited inheritance comes from my ex's mother's estate -which will be just enough for my ex to buy a van for his business, get his teeth fixed, and overall get back on his own 2 feet - then my paying his bills stops. Should be in June sometime.

I feel sickened even saying all this. I should be elated to have Melody's flesh and blood offspring in my life, and I am most of the time. Not to mention this kid is amazing. He is so joyful, completely has Melody's spirit, and is about as easy as a baby can be. But that doesn't make my struggle any less.

The level of guilt that I feel because I'm relieved when I have a break from the baby is reprehensible to me. The level of sadness and missing my daughter is incomprehensible to me every time that baby learns something new or does something new. I can literally hear her voice, her laughter, her love for her child every time he pulls up to stand or laughs or crawls or eats his dinner with his own hands or when he babbles "Mamamamama". That's by far when I miss her the most.

I also feel super guilty when I think about if she was still here, knowing the downward spiral that she was on before she overdosed. There's this devil and angel sitting on my shoulders arguing with each other about how I don't miss the addict, but I do miss my daughter. How do you reconcile that? I don't think you can.

I feel like if she was still here, she would be making my life a living hell as an addict, and would have probably died from Corona, because of the major lung and heart damage that she had done to herself, along with the reckless life that goes with being a heroin addict. But near the end of her life, she was literally fighting everyday to find long-term rehab. And what if she had gotten in? I feel like we would have been living the life that we had been for over a year that was clean and sober and fun as hell. There are just so many questions, and scenarios, it boggles my mind.

I found out a lot of stuff after she passed away. I found out that she was far more down the rabbit hole then I thought. She was living the addict life 100% over the last two to three months before she died. I thought that her grandmother getting sick and dying was the catalyst, for the most part. But now, as I said before, she was completely and utterly relapsed. How on God's green earth, after everything I've seen and been through, could I still be so fucking blind? And the pain doesn't stop there. Just the other day I found that my toolbox was missing. She clearly hocked it.

I'm just posting because I don't care what groups are out there for support, I still never feel like I can speak my brutal truth. Not to mention, groups like Nar-Anon and others are all about the God talk. I'm so fucking over the God talk. Can I just find a fucking group where we can just let loose of our feelings no matter how grotesque they are and not have to pray at the beginning in the end of it? I'm always strangely comforted to know when other people have been through what I've been through, while still being sick that this could happen to more than one person, not to mention hundreds of thousands of people. That's the only real reason I want to join any group at all, is just so I don't feel alone in all this mess. So in my mind, I have nowhere else to go accept my Tumblr blog.

I'm so lost, and so alone. I really, genuinely do not know how to deal with my shit. I need to be up and happy and perky for this baby, and for the most part I am. But when it's bedtime, and I'm playing one of mommy's videos for the baby while he drinks his bedtime bottle, he always smiles at a certain part, and I'm shattered every time. There's not a single soul on this Earth that knows how much pain I'm in, but not in the sense that one might think. Yes, I miss my baby girl more than words can express. But I'm so fucking glad the addict is gone. And I feel disgusted even saying that. I also feel a lot of guilt around not promoting his father's memories at all. There's a lot of resentment there, but I feel like the right thing to do is to make sure he remembers his father too. How do I resolve that?

And other logistical thoughts come to mind. Like I am going to be 70 when he turns 18. I'm going to die when he's fairly young (assuming I don't die younger of a car accident or some other stupid shit). It's so not fair to him. And I think about what am I supposed to tell him throughout the years? He's going to know who mama is thru videos on my phone, the pictures on the wall, and the gravesite that we visit all the time. I don't know how I'm going to answer the questions this sweet baby is going to have. I don't know how to tell him how much she loved him and make him understand that she did not choose drugs over him. Drugs chose her over life. I also need to make sure that I put in my will who will take the baby if I die. Let's look at the options... There's my sister who has desperately wanted a child over the last 10 years or so and is 48 years old. She's had mental health issues for as long as she's been alive. To put it bluntly, she's incompetent of having a child full time. She is also narcoleptic I think I mentioned before. Sorry honey, you've got to stay awake for this one. Then there's my ex, who loves the baby equally as I do. But he doesn't have a responsible bone in his body and is an anarchist and conspiracy theorist. He's incapable of taking care of a baby or child from a responsibility standpoint, not to mention the crazy shit he would put in his head as he gets older. Finally there's my son. He's pretty much the only one I would trust to do right by this child. But he's made it quite clear that he's never wanted to be a father. I did ask him about it, and he said that he would accept the task if it came to it. But I want someone who wants the baby, not has to take the baby, not just someone who would accept the responsibility.

I need help, no question about it. But no matter how many Google searches that I do, I can't find a single place or counselor where I can get very specific help for my issues. I don't want to let this baby down. I don't want to fuck him up either. I want to be the very best grandma and mother that I can be for him.

What do I do?

Oh and finally, I've been drinking a lot more - or more frequently. If it was up to me, I'd drink daily. Quantity wise, it's not that much. At most a bottle of wine, mostly when my ex has the baby, but sometimes after he's asleep for the night. I'm not trying to get drunk, per se. Just trying to unclench my muscles and stress. Sometimes it eases my sadness, sometimes it exacerbates it. Plus it helps me fall asleep, which has been a challenge for me since entering menopause. I take a 1/4 bar (.5mg) of Xanax frequently before bed to help sleep, and never up my dose (too scared). But if I skip a couple of days, by the 3rd day I have withdrawals that feel likey old anxiety attacks. I take a quarter & the symptoms fade. Well ain't that just the last thing that I need! I want to phase it out, but as long as I have sleep issues, a job, and a baby, I don't see how I can. I skip days purposely so it remains effective without taking higher doses. Now that I'm working from home, this would be a great time to phase out. But every time I try to skip, I'm tossing and turning all night - which is torture.

I just wish I could get into a yoga routine or any other exercise routine, as well as meditation. I know that that would help all of my issues. But gumption is not exactly my forte right now.

[kathyprior4200]

Heavenuva Boss

Not too far away from Holy City lay a beautiful area within the clouds of Heaven. A floating white sign read “Welcome to Elf City: est. 1981.” The sky was blue and the buildings and streets immaculate. Elves of various colors and sizes were chatting among themselves, while others walked around with their families. Many of them were hard at work, wrapping presents for Christmas, saving food to give to the homeless, cleaning a nearby park, and caring for the ill. Some of them liked to volunteer just for something to do. There were also miracle workers, whose job was to travel to different realms and bestow blessings to those on Earth or in other realms in Heaven. Hell was forbidden for obvious reasons. Some elves went around, saving people’s lives or healing their wounds once they prayed.

The most well-known miracle bestowing company was located in a tall office building surrounded by golden halo clouds. Posted on a door were the words “E.L.F.” Headquarters and on a taped piece of paper, “Meeting in progress” was scribbled on it.

On a white board was a line graph and a bar graph, the line slowly moving downwards from a blue happy face to a red sad face. “Docile is the best, by Docile” was written off to the side. A white Christian Cross was drawn in the center of the wooden table surrounded by black leather chairs.

Up front, a black, white, and blue colored elf paced back and forth. He had large pointed white ears that jutted off to the sides between the sides and top of his head. He had large purple eyes. The left side of his face was blue and the right side of his face was dark gray. He wore a long white business suit with blue buttons and purple circles on the sleeves with a cross in the centers. White boots with blue outlines covered his feet while white fingerless gloves covered his hands. A white hoof-shaped mark lay on his forehead like a birthmark. A little green pin attached to his undershirt had a happy face on it. A black halo with thorns on it hovered over his head.

Docile looked toward his audience of two elves and a humanoid cat sitting on chairs around the table.

“All right, now I know business has been…a bit stressful lately. We’ve had to keep up demands and during the rush, not everyone can be saved.” He pointed toward the graph. “It seems that more and more people aren’t counting on miracles from angels and God to help themselves feel better. I don’t know how our company will fare if this keeps sloping down. It’s no one’s fault, okay? I just think that some of us could…help with improving their attitudes… Woxxie.”

Woxxie raised her eyebrows. The grumpy imp woman had a blue face, short white hair with a black spot on it and displayed a row of sharp teeth. She wore white gloves and a white tank top over a long white skirt. Her eyelashes extended past her face. Like the others, she had a black wiry halo over her head.

Docile continued. “Now does anyone have any ideas on how we can business drumming up again?”

Willie, the bubbly elf, raised his hand. He had a blue face, purple eyes, and black hair framing his face. Black freckles were present under his eyes, black halo above his head. He wore a light blue bow tie and a white business suit similar to Docile’s.

Willie grinned, “What…about…a billboard?”

 “That’s a thought, Willie, but there are advertisements everywhere in Heaven,” Docile mentioned. Then his eyes brightened and he waved his hands. “How about a car wash?”

Woxxie crossed her arms. “We’re a company, not a go-to fundraising event, sir.”

Docile wondered over to Woxxie and put her in a headlock. “So helpful, Woxxie, I’m really glad you’re in the room right now.” He gently shoved her aside, sarcasm in his voice. “Have you guys forgotten what service we provide?”

Docile turned on the TV and a series of clips showed up on screen: Docile bandaging an angel’s wings, Woxxie helping a man walk, Sunna, the cat purring at a crying girl, Willie saving someone using CPR.

Docile held a bowl of popcorn for everyone to eat. Sunna, the brown furred, black stripped cat, wore a white dress with a sun on it. She wore a gold cross necklace around her neck. She was purring contently while sniffing her last leaf of catnip she brought. A nearby poster showed Docile and his two elf sisters Mia and Tia with an award for being the best care-providers.

“Ah, those were good times,” he smiled.

Willie happily ate a piece of popcorn on the table.

Woxxie scowled. “Don’t need any reminding sir, considering you blew most of our salaries to help a rival pharmaceutical company with their advertisement, one that you additionally paid to have us hold their hands and sing for three whole weeks on a channel, everybody watches!”

“Hey, uh excuse me?” Docile looked back, insulted. He stood up. “What’s so “obnoxious” about generosity and a super fun song, alright? It’s a fun distraction when an advertisement’s spitting lies.” He walked across the room.

“People love musicals, sir,” added Willie.

“Exactly, Willie,” Docile smiled, “and we’re basically doing a musical.” Docile did jazz hands before during to Woxxie. “Are you gonna criticize my musical theater dreams like my dad did?”

“Sir…” Woxxie began, but Docile cut her off.

“Because all I see right now is my Dad and his angry eyes glaring at me, criticizing my dreams of being, who I truly am inside.” He turned his head away.

Willie leaned in toward his wife and spoke in a teasing tone, “Are you trying to crush his dreams, Woxxie?”

“I…what?” she stuttered.

He leaned in closer, eyebrows raising up and down playfully. “I thought I knew you.” Woxxie rolled her eyes.

Docile turned back to Woxxie, tears in his eyes. “I can’t believe you, Woxxie. And after I made you Employee of the Month.” He held up a picture of Woxxie with a large grin of sharp teeth.

Woxxie threw up her hands. “Okay, sir, I’m sorry, but a commercial jingle is not comparable to musical theater. Nobody actually likes the jingles.”

“I liked it!” Willie popped up.

Woxxie turned to him, finger shaking. “Do not…do not agree with him in front of me.”

 In a commercial, Docile spoke in front of purple curtains. “Hi I’m Docile, the “e” is silent and I’m the founder of E.L.F.”  Docile leaned against the L in the logo, with Willie and Woxxie posing on either side. Docile continued, “Are you a piece of gold that got yourself sent to Heaven?” The picture showed Docile dressed in a superhero outfit with a red cape. “Or are you a conflicted convict who just happened to have your life cut short by someone else?” The next picture showed Docile dressed in a red devil costume choosing whether or not to quit smoking and drugs.

 A blue winged angel with a tiger’s head spoke, “After defending myself against my psycho brother and preaching about God, you could imagine my surprise when I wound up here, after the coronavirus killed me. I really wish I could give my family well-wishes and advise them to kick my brother out.”

Docile continued, standing in a church with Willie and Woxxie nearby.

“Well, luckily for you, thanks to our company’s special access to the living world, we can help you take care of your unfinished business by saving anyone who may have helped you out when you were alive!” Docile happily climbed up a flight of golden steps.

 Then the jingle began:

 “When you want somebody saved

And you wanna go behave

Call the Efficient Lifesaving Fellows

Whether First Aid or CPR

We’ll make sure you all go far

Efficient Lifesaving Fellows

We do our job so fine

‘Cause we come straight from Cloud Nine

We’ll save your husband or your wife

We’ll even help extend your life

The Efficient Lifesaving Fellows

 Pets live for freeeeee”

 A brown haired woman stole a guy’s wallet and kicked him in the groin. She ran off and then got shot by police. Yet she only went unconscious. The doctors took her to the emergency room while the imps waited. A doctor walked in on the elves in the waiting room.

“She’s in stable condition, but she’ll need rest. Now what kind of insurance do you freaks have?”

“God’s chosen don’t need insurance,” Docile said.

The elves and the woman were promptly kicked out of the hospital and sent back to Heaven.

  The jingle ended with “Pets live for freeee!”

 Woxxie spoke up, hands in front of her. “I’d like to go on record and say that incident was Sunna’s fault. Dispatch is supposed to give the right info on the client. It’s very simple.”

“I’m sorry, Woxxie, I did the nest I could,” Sunna said.

Woxxie fumed, stuttering “’Sorry’ doesn’t cover it…do your job!”

“Hey, now we don’t blame screw-ups on Sunna, okay?” Docile said. “She didn’t do anything wrong.” Sunna walked over and embraced Docile in a tight hug, Docile straining to break free.

“Are you kidding me, sir? She’s awful!”

 Sunna thought back to the time when she was a receptionist at a desk. The old rotary phone rang, sounding like cats meowing. She picked up the fish-shaped phone.

“Thank you for calling E.L.F. How may we bless you?” Sunna asked.

Willie was on the other end. “There’s a customer ranting about Satan. He wants to commit suicide…”

“Tell him that suicide will not make things better.”

“He wants to rant and curse to you…”

“Just got a call on the other line, apologies.”

Sunna hung up the phone, glancing back at her Fancy Feast Feline magazine.

 Another memory came back to Sunna, which took place at her house.

“Happy Adoption Anniversary, Sunny,” said Docile. “I got a little something for you.” He showed her a gift in his hands.

Sunna smiled. “Is it spiders to play with?”

“I…uh…”

“Then I want it!” she exclaimed happily, tearing open the gift. She took out a white pill and looked in confusion.

“I’m sorry, it was a cure for syphilis,” Docile said, moving toward the wall.

“Docile, it’s a placebo!” Sunna cried, crushing the sugar pill in her paw. “There is no cure!”

 There was one other time when Sunna watched Caroline singing/screaming “Inside of Every Angel is a Monster.” Woxxie walked over, holding a piece of paper in her hands.

“Um, did you just send me an ad for beauty makeovers?”

“Yes,” Sunna replied.

“Is it because I’m so gorgeous?” Woxxie asked with a grin.

“Come on,” Sunna teased. “Just the opposite.”

 Later, Sunna rummaged around, looking for something in the kitchen.

“Who left this tuna salad in the fridge?”

“Wasn’t me,” said Willie. “It was there from yesterday.”

“Is this yours Wox?”

No answer.

“Well, I’m taking it because I have the best feeling right now.”

She closed the door and gulped down the food.

“Now why would you get happy on a work day?” Willie asked, nearby.

“I’m happy from this morning, Willie Nilly,” she giggled.

Woxxie walked inside. “Is that my lunch?”

“I’m so sorry!” Sunna said, then brightened. “You know what? I’ll just go get you another one before work! Time to enjoy my tenth life!”

Sunna raced outside with a “Wheeee!” and helped an elderly elf cross the street.

 “Docile!” Sunna called in the office, “Your privileged boss’s on the phone. Says it’s urgent and wants to talk to you. Sounds a little DTP y.” (Down to Punish)

“Oh no that was one time!” Docile yelled, splashing water on himself in front of Woxxie.

“We wouldn’t have access to the living world if I hadn’t let myself get punished by him.

“You what?” Woxxie asked, concerned.

“I stole a Bible after getting whipped for the sins I did.”

“Docile!” Sunna cried.

“I heard you already!” Docile yelled before stomping into his office to play with bobble heads of himself, Woxxie and Willie.

 “So, what can I do you for, Stolos?” Docile asked on his cell phone in his office.

The brown owl kind spoke from his castle, wearing a crown, white top hat and blue robes. “There’s a politician who’s causing lots of trouble on Earth. He wants to convince people that the coronavirus isn’t dangerous.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Well, it is, but more people die when no extra precautions are taken. And it gets crowded here.”

“Well that makes sense.”

“You know what happens when I’m stressed, Docy?”

“Oh no…” Docile began.

“When I’m stressed, I become angry. And when I’m angry, I have to whip your back and **** strike your **** with a flaming sword, cast you into a windy dessert, freeze you into ice in the lowest level, make you swim in the lake of fire for 1 million ******hours, hang you on a wooden cross for sins you didn’t commit and leave you begging for His mercy like an imperfect mortal!”

Docile hung up the phone and tossed the pieces to Sunna. “Here play with these. And you know after you put it in your mouth?”

“Yeah?”

“Vomit it off a bridge.”

 Docile continued, “Look, the point is, Sunna is a valued member of our family and we don’t get rid of families.”

“We aren’t a family, sir,” Woxxie pointed out. “You are the boss. We are the employees. You treat her like she’s some hyperactive teenager. She’s more like a catnip addicted spoiled woman you let man the phones.”

Sunna stuck out her tongue at her.

“That is offensive,” Docile said. “Without rich people, I wouldn’t have half the joy and laughter I do in this life.” Docile opened the blinds and saw an angel dressed in a golden suit getting his picture taken by a crowd of people. Docile waved at a lovely white-haired blue-faced elf woman wearing a white dress with little white feathery wings on them before closing the blinds.

 Woxxie crossed her arms. “While we’re on the subject of “family,” can you stop finding Willie and me outside of work?”

“Come on, it’s not that big a deal,” Willie said.

Woxxie’s eyes grew wide. “Excuse me…what?! I asked Willie for some lemons, he said “sure, honey.” Docile was suddenly fixing our oven just when we were about to make angel’s food cake!”

Willie laughed, “Docile said “the best aide is lemonade when life gives you lemons.” So funny!”

  Willie and Woxxie remembered the song they sang, while Willie played on guitar:

“Of all the perfect elves,

It’s with him, I’m myself

Oh Willie.”

They leaned in for a kiss when Woxxie whirled around toward the window. Docile had a video camera outside.

“Are you bucking filming us right now?!”

 Back in the present, Woxxie seethed. “Just. Stop. Doing that.”

“I don’t see what the issue is,” Docile said. “Just love good classic romance, holy matrimony…and the honeymoon bonus scenes.”

Sunna rolled her eyes, while Woxxie fumed.

“Sir, what you say and how you act is totally INAPPROPRIATE!” Woxxie stood up.

“Calm down, Wox,” Willie said, pulling her back down. “You’re gonna have another panic attack.”

“I AM CALM!” Woxxie yelled before Willie patted her head. “Shh there, there,” she said, while Woxxie whimpered.

Docile spoke again. “Look I don’t judge what you do outside of working hours, so don’t judge me.”

Veins popped out of Woxxie’s eyes. “Oh I do judge you, sir. Quite a lot, actually.”

She crossed her arms while Willie gasped in fear.

“Wox, he’s our boss!”

“No, it’s fine, Willie,” Docile mentioned. “Your wife is just…how do I say this without being offensive…bossy.”

“Does immaturingly insulting me make you feel better about your sad single life?” Woxxie asked.

“Not really, but it’s still fun,” Docile admitted.

Sunna added to Woxxie, “Even though you can be a grump sometimes, I still appreciate your company.”

“Please don’t call her a grump, kitty cat!” Willie protested.

“Do not criticize my assistant that way,” Docile said. “She’s sensitive.”

“Yes I am,” admitted Sunna.

  “You guys are freaking amazing!”

Everyone turned to look. A pale spirit of a brown-haired teen girl floated nearby, wearing a prisoner uniform.

“Oh thank you, kid,” said Docile. “It’s something for you to witness this.”

“Ugh, this company’s such a mess,” Woxxie exclaimed.

“Alright, let’s get back to talking about my outfit!” Docile said out of nowhere.

“Nobody was talking about that,” Sunna mentioned.

“Which is why I’m trying to get that ball rolling, so how does it look? It’s good, right?”

 The spirit pointed her finger at Docile, “It was heaven being able to rest after being shot by police for mugging a guy, but now…I miss my family. I want life!”

“You,” she said pointing to Docile, “You’re a selfless frugal clown. And I’m a young teen. We’re not supposed to like clowns.”

Woxxie scoffed, “Calling us clowns are ya…”

The spirit added, “If I wanted to talk to a pretty, organized woman, I’d look her in the eye and ask, “How in the world did I get here?”

“That’s my wife you’re talking to,” Willie said proudly.

“I figured you for an athlete but I didn’t know you’d get even luckier. And you.”

“Yeah what about me?” Sunna asked.

“You’re just purrfect. I was never a dog person.”

Sunna purred.

“Wow you really are kind of a nice slab of diamonds,” Docile said.

Woxxie rolled her eyes. “Such a flirt trying to make herself innocent.”

 Sunna spoke up. “Hey guys, I just got a text from our client, says she’s the right one after all.”

“Who?” Docile asked.

“Her.”

“Me?” asked the spirit.

“Yep.”

“They wanted us to save an actual convict?” Docile asked.

“That’s what they’re saying.”

Docile frowned. “Well Satan in a heater, I guess there is a Devil.” He waved his hands, supplying oxygen to her and she woke up back on Earth in the hospital.

Docile spoke about E.L.F.: “You know folks, with this company, I really wanted to prove that we’re capable of doing the same things anyone else can, like saving people. So from us here at the Efficient Lifesaving Fellows group, we promise to settle your unfinished business or your money is gone and you’re never getting it back and you can write us a bad review but we’ll play dumb to it because it’s Heaven and business is business.”

  Everyone wrapped Docile in a hug, whole he rolled his eyes. Then he said, “Even though the kid was a client, she’s still a convict. It’s important that we’ve handled this going forward, respectfully.” Everyone smiled in the hug.

 Back on Earth, the elves cornered the escaping woman and sent her to a juvenile detention center. The police looked up at the elves through a portal.

“You’re welcome!” Docile called with a wave before the portal closed.

[joi-in-the-tardis]

Just got off the phone with my stepmom. It's now just over a year since Dad died. His big, beautiful pickup truck has sat (more or less) in her yard all this time. Meanwhile all of my brothers and their sons have argued amongst themselves over it, considered it their own whenever they wanted, and ranted red streaks at anyone else she loaned it to.

Only one amongst them offered money for it: my second eldest brother's son. He never came by to hammer out a deal. He wanted to pay a pittance a month. He wanted to stay on her insurance while he paid her.

She's finally selling it to a shop in town. The auto-mechanic that's worked on their vehicles for years (and actually sold me my current car). In the end, she's probably going to get half of what it's worth. But it'll be gone and they can all stop crying over it.

I'm so disgusted with my blood family at this point. Dad hemorrhaged money at them for years. He paid house payments on houses they eventually lost. He bought himself new tools when they walked off with his.

All Dad every wanted was for them to be happy. For me to be happy. For his wife to be happy. Every time they disrespect her, they disrespect him.

They've left me out my whole life. It's been the four of them and then me. It's no shock that they're leaving me out of this, but it is telling. They know if they make me choose between them and the woman who raised me- for all intents and purposes my mother since age 9- there is no competition.

The truck will be gone next week. They're welcome to buy it from the mechanic. I hope a stranger gets it.

If I had the money, I'd buy it. I'd hack it in to unusable pieces, and I'd set the pieces on fire on their lawns.

Dad loved his things. He was proud of them. He was a collector of things that made him happy, just like me. But, just like me, in the end they were just things. People were more important to him. He would be so ashamed and hurt by how they've acted. He would have words for all of them about how they've upset his wife.

He wanted her happy. He wanted her to know her worth. Because she's worth more than all the stuff in the world. There are precious people in this world who give those they love a thousand chances. That will be trod on repeatedly, but still choose to see the one good thing someone does for them. That's the kind of person she is. I love her so much and I admire her even more. I'm half the good human that she is. So when I say that she's done, it means they've really, really screwed up.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #199

“mama, just killed a man; put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger, now he’s dead.”

Who is the nicest person you’ve ever met? I dunno, I've truly met so many. How about the meanest? Literally my former best friend, all things considered. I too often ignored her overwhelming ratio of bad versus positive traits. She was an absolute witch when entirely unnecessary to most she met, and even to those she did like, she could be extremely rude and just. Yeah, mean. Do you prefer sugar cookies or peanut butter cookies? Hmmm, probably sugar. Chocolate chip cookies or Oreos? Chocolate chip. What is on your mouse pad? I don't have one. Who was the last person to yell at you? Mom. Why did they yell at you? I don't recall, I just know it was her. What was the last thing you spoke to your mom about? I can't remember. It was as she was leaving for work and nothing major. Where was the last place you took a train to? Never been on a train. What is your favorite sleeping position? What about sitting? Sitting, idk. But I sleep like, kinda on my stomach but twist to my side with my arms positioned up like a fetus' or something. My legs are just kinda just splayed out or bent a bit beside each other. When is the last time you felt appreciated for something you did? Had to be something with Sara when she needed some comfort. Do you ever call friends just to have a casual conversation with them? I don't willingly call anyone. I've texted/messaged friends at random though. Are you the type of person who gets straight to the point? Not really. Do you enjoy playing board games? No. Are there any movies you are wanting to see? The new How To Train Your Dragon, ahhhh! Probably gonna see it with Sara when she comes. Who was the last contact you stored into your cell phone, if you have one? Probably VR. What was the last song you sang along to? Uhhh something by Powerwolf in the shower. Are you a fan of the band Taking Back Sunday? Never heard 'em. Nachos or tacos? I hate tacos, but nachos are literally the best. Do you think Kurt Cobain was assassinated? This is a conspiracy I'm not really educated on. *shrugs* I barely ever rule shit out now after going down the conspiracy theories rabbit hole. Do you feel uncomfortable when people you hardly know confide in you? Not at all. Does it annoy you when people wish away their lives? I'm guessing you mean just wish for things instead of taking action towards achieving them? Yes, it does. Wishing isn't gonna do a damn thing for you. Have you ever lived with somebody with truly repulsive habits? No. Do you tend to say things because they’re appropriate not because you mean them? No. I've probably done it, but not enough to recall an occasion. What was the last thing to perplex you? Some conspiracy theory in Shane Dawson's new series I thought was pretty far-fetched. I've already forgotten it. What was the last thing to fascinate you? Another theory in the same series mentioned above lol. It was about the fires in California. Do you ever have really good dreams, and then the whole next day, you’re in a really good mood because of that really good dream? No. What’s the last thing you bought at the mall? A book. What are you listening to? "Fire & Forgive" by Powerwolf. Have you ever wanted to go to the moon? Not really. Is your favorite author the author of your favorite book? No. What are you looking forward to the most? Settling down comfortably with Sara with nice jobs, pets we love, a house we feel is perfect for us, and just. Yeah, all of that. ;v; What’s the last CD you bought? I haven't bought one since Hollywood Undead's "Swan Songs." Is that your favorite cd by that artist? I'm not too familiar with their albums, but I think? What food do you eat the most of? Idk, really. Meats? Some form of bread? What food do you not eat enough of? Vegetables. If you HAD to look like someone else, but could choose who, who would you choose? Probably Suzy Hanson. I'm gay as all fuck hell for that sweetheart. What’s something you’re proud of yourself for? DEDICATING TO THE PROCESS OF RECOVERY. Think of your favorite band… if you got to talk to ONE person from that band, who would it be, and why them? Ozzy because he is my granddad, savior, and most importantly, spirit animal. Have you ever seen someone get a tattoo done? If so, what was it? Did they cry or were they in a lot of pain? Yeah; it was a watercolor feather with "ohana" written on it. She didn't cry, nor was it excruciating. What do you like on hot dogs? Ketchup and mustard. Favorite sport team? I'm biased towards the Carolina Hurricanes because of Dad. Do you live somewhere where it’s completely safe to walk alone at night? No. Have you ever lived with someone who was a total slob? Yup. Have you ever interviewed a job applicant at your workplace? N/A Have you ever gone over 3 months without shaving/waxing your legs? Yeah, or close to it. Would you ever consider being a foster parent? No. What’s your opinion on lottery tickets? Waste of money, or no? A waste and a risk for addiction. What are some things that make others cry, that don’t make you cry at all? Well, this is hard. I cry at pretty much anything moving. Have you ever swam in a saltwater pool? No. Can you run in heels? I highly doubt that. My balance is bad as it is. Do you think anyone has given up on you? I'm sure Colleen has. When did you last swallow your beliefs to avoid an argument or confrontation? Today, but literally most days on FB anyway with my stepmother and abortion. Do you pay your own cellphone bill, or do your parents pay it for you? Dad pays it. Have you seen every Harry Potter movie in theaters? No. Have you ever been pregnant? No. Would you ever drive a hearse for your car? Fuck yeah I would if I could decorate it some. What snacks do you usually take to the beach with you? I haven't gone to the beach consistently enough to known. Do you like to eat tomato soup along with your grilled cheese? No. Have you ever watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer? No. Do you have thick or thin hair? Thick as all fuck. If you have thick hair, do you get it thinned when you get it cut? I get it like, tapered so the ends aren't so abrupt. If you have thin hair, do you wish it were thick? N/A What kind of shoes do you normally purchase? Converse or Vans. Did you like Pokemon or Digimon when you were younger? Pokemon was and still is everything. Do you sleep with your hair up or down? It's too short to go up, but I didn't when it was long. When you go swimming, do you put your hair up or down? ^ Do you do any special workouts to stay in shape? I've started doing some yoga exercises and push-ups everyday to try to get IN shape. If you’re a girl, do you have big hips? Too big? I'd say they're fine. Is there a day you’d just like to forget? Which one? The day I ODed. Girls, do you think you look good in dresses or not? I haven't worn a dress since my sister's wedding three years ago... and I looked awful. Have you ever taken a pottery class before? No. What is the one stereotype people label you as most? Don't really hear those nowadays. Who makes you the most angry in your life right now? My last fucking school. How many times have you seen Star Wars? Be honest. Literally once, and I hated it. It was incredibly uninteresting. Do you like flowers? What’s your favorite kind? YEAH. I love orchids and dahlias. How many grades have you failed in your life? None. Do you own a car? Who provides your insurance if so? No. Are you someone who can easily keep a secret? Yup. When was the last time you painted something? December, a painting for Sara. Who was the last female you hung out with? My mom. When is the next time you’re going on vacation? Hell if I know. Are you currently renting out your own apartment? No. Have you taken anyone’s virginity? No. Have you ever had anyone drop off animals at your house and what kind? No. Have you ever made your boy/girlfriend choose between you and someone else? No. Do you remember when some of the Walmarts had a McDonald’s in them? Our neighboring town still has one. When was the last time you were somewhere that offered free Wi-Fi? I dunno. What color are your curtains and are you satisfied with this color? Maroon, and yes. When was the last time you were stung by a bee and what kind was it? Last year by a bumblebee. Do you know anyone personally who had their house burn down before? Yes. What’s your favorite kind of potato chip and are they cheap to buy? Hm. Maybe classic... or cool ranch. Who was the last male you hung out with? My dad. Are you self-conscious? You have no idea. Do you tend to get sick more often in the wintertime? If not, is there a certain season that you get sick more often in besides winter? No. I rarely ever get sick. Do you find yourself being more of a germaphobe when you’re in public? Uh, duh. What is the worst thing you’ve seen in a public restroom? Blood under the seat. And I mean quite a bit. I usually check under them now after that event with Colleen. Nerdy question time. If you were in a more medieval time period, would you prefer to excel in might, magic, or finesse? MAGIC. Do you have an friends from foreign countries? Are they online friends or foreign exchange students? Or perhaps you have some from both? Online friends. Have you ever studied how your last name originated? Yeah. What is one recipe that you would like to learn how to make? Hell, a lot. I need to know how to cook period. How many hours can you go after a meal before you are hungry again? Does the time vary off how big of a meal it was? Depends on what I ate. Can be like... 4-5 hours or I can fast and go beyond 16. Really varies. What was your favorite Backstreet Boys song? HUNNY don't DO THIS. Oh Lord. I really don't think I can pick. I know back then it was "The Call," though. Favorite *N Sync song? Probably "Bye Bye Bye." Which of those two bands did you like best? Backstreet Boys. *heart eyes drool emoji* Do you learn choreography easily? I was okay back in dance, but I doubt it now. My memory and focus have declined. What is the theme of this year’s wall calendar? Idk, Mom hasn't changed it yet. Do you believe that Jesus will come back in your lifetime? I don't believe that concept. Do you still have your favorite toy from when you were kid? Apparently no; asked Mom recently outta curiosity, and I was VERY surprised. I don't know how I ever could've gotten rid of him. Which do you do more: read books, spend time online, or watch television? Guess. What do you do the most when you’re online? Listen to/watch YouTube. Is your 2019 off to a good start? Eh, I suppose. What color is your winter coat? I don't have one. What’s your favorite candy to receive on Halloween? Reese's. Do you think you’re too old to go trick-or-treating? Well, according to society. Do you have a bobblehead? If yes, what does your bobblehead look like? No. Were you afraid of heights as a child? No. What’s the strangest thing you’ve wrapped a present in? Nothing odd? Can you read in the car? I don't know if I've ever done that? Have you ever had a lead role in a play? No. Would you ever take a solo road trip? Nah. What is the most fascinating part of nature? Shit dude, idk. There's so much. Evolution, maybe. When did you last go to the library? What book(s) did you check out? Couldn't tell ya. Have you ever gotten in trouble for running up your phone bill? Nope. When is the next time you’ll change your hairstyle? Will you color it? I don't plan to any time soon. Do people normally say you’re a fast typer, or are you rather slow? Very fast. Do you believe in the concept of global warming? It's 2019. "Concept" my ass. Have you ever worked in retail? Never again. Are you even a little bit racist? No. Were you more fond of swings, monkey bars, or seesaws as a child? Swings. Do you believe in a near-future apocalyptic event? We can't predict that. A meteor could fuck us tonight, or the supervolcano in Yellowstone could erupt the next time I blink. May not be for thousands of years. Do you have a chandelier in your home? No. Do you have a bar with stools? No. Don’t you love American Horror Story: Asylum? I didn't watch it. When’s the last time you blew some bubbles? No clue. Are you self conscious about your nails? Not too much. Which pair of pants that you own are your favorites? Why do you like them? Pretty much all I have are yoga pants and leggings that all look the same... Now if I can include pj pants, the soft, black, white, and lilac Jack Skellington ones I have. They're comfy. Have you ever had any kind of dangerous addiction? What’s this addiction? No. Are your parents still married, divorced, or split up? Like this decision? Divorced. And I mean, any person would wish their parents were together ideally, but just with how mine always fought and just constantly seemed angry at each other, I'm glad they are. Are you a Jeffree Star fan? Or no? Do you think he’s awesome/dumb? I love that alien. His personality is so bubbly, he cracks me the hell up, and he's gone through so much growth. Are any of your favorite shows too dirty for television? Which ones? No. Are there any colorful quilts in your room? Which ones are colorful? No. Do you own a guitar? Specify. Which brand of guitar do you own? I do, but I don't recall the brand; I don't play it anymore. I just know it's black and white. Are you a monogamous person? Or do you hate commitment? Monogamous. Who was the last person who was rude to you? Idk, probably Mom. Have you ever met someone in person that you first met online? Yeah. Have you ever taken a test to see if you are colorblind? No. Who do you know who is dyslexic? Idk. Describe your dream wedding in five words. Small, memorable, gothic, emotional, and sincere are a few words I can think of. Is weed legal in your state? No. Have you ever thrown up in class? In kindergarten, I believe. What is something that you used to be ashamed of, but now you’re not? Mmmmm I dunno. OH ACTUALLY, for quite a while I was embarrassed of liking Pokemon for yeeeaaars because at that time it was seen as "weird," but now like. Give me everything Pokemon. Have you ever held a newborn baby? No. Are a ton of your Facebook friends getting married and having kids now? Yes. I sometimes forget we're at that age where it's kinda normal. What’s the last supernatural thing that happened to you? Idk. If you’re a Christian, how long have you known the Lord? N/A Do you live in an apartment, condo, dorm, or house? A house. Do you have a sibling with the same first initial as you? Well, it's his nickname. Do you ever eat kids’ food (as in, meals made for kids)? Hell yeah, give me that fuckin nachos Lunchable. Do you remember pre-school? I have vague memories. How old were you when you made your first friend? Two. What is the movie that you have waited the longest for/which film do you remember anticipating the most/are still anticipating? The Incredibles 2, probably. What is something that an interested guy/girl could comment about you, that would make you instantly open to them (e.g., “That book you’re reading is from my favorite author”)? It's game over if you recognize my Markiplier tattoo lmao. Do you refer to yourself by any sort of fan nickname (Belieber, Little Monster, etc.)? I will always be a GMM mythical beast, fucking fight me. What sort of situations make you feel most self-conscious or inadequate? Are there any people or places that just make you want to crawl into a hole? If you can’t think of anything specific, can you remember the last time (or any time) you felt this way? When I'm in a position where it's my responsibility to be knowledgeable, hence why I've struggled so immensely with work. Out of all your usernames for websites, which one is your favorite? Do you use it for more than one site? I use Ozzkat like, everywhere, and it's my fave. Are there any cities near you that you’re afraid to go to because of the crime rate or its other bad reputations? Yes. Have you ever spent the whole day (or multiple days) just looking up one thing on the internet (e.g., videos of your favorite band, how-to videos, quizzes, etc.)? Ha, yeah. Can you remember the last thing you thought and subsequently thought, “wow, I really shouldn’t be thinking that”? PTSD and OCD alike give me intrusive thoughts occasionally, so. How long does it take you in the morning to fix your hair? It takes just a few seconds to wet my hand(s) and go over the back where it usually sticks up like crazy. My hair is otherwise short enough where I have to do like... nothing. Have you ever been in a situation where you had to be around your ex everyday? No. Do you prefer kisses on the nose, cheek or forehead? Cheek. Have you seen someone recently you used to talk to, but don’t anymore? No. Do you prefer a lot of ice in your drinks or just a little bit of ice? None. I don't like it to water down my drink, and even with water, I worry about one/some small ones going down my throat. Well, in margaritas it's obviously fine, just because it's so fine. Which condiment (ketchup, mustard, etc.) do you use the most of? Ketchup or honey mustard. Would you ever flirt with somebody in front of your parents? With my s/o, sure, just not if it's even mildly sexual. Have your parents ever questioned your virginity? Yeah. Have you ever spent over $100.00 on an article of clothing? What was it? FUCK no. Do you think your parents know things about you that you don’t want them to? Mom might. I doubt Dad does. How many of your friends play World of Warcraft? I think Sam still does, maybe Alex, and then I have a number of acquaintances exclusive to the game. Actually Girt might too... maybe. I just know he keeps up with the lore. Are caterpillars more cute or disgusting? CUTE. Would you rather receive roses or sunflowers? I'd appreciate either, but I prefer roses as flowers. Is your dad bald? No. Surprised honestly; he's in his mid-50s, and while it's gray, there's no less of it than there's always been. Who is the most boring or dullest person that you know of? Uhhhhhhhh I dunno. How long do you have until your birthday? Three days y e e t Do you know anyone who has been arrested? Yes. Do you remember the name of the first bar you ever went to? Never been to one. Were you of age? N/A When was the last time you wanted to do something, but couldn’t? With how Sara's been such a flirt lately, I deadass wanna pin her to a wall and go ham. Is there a certain song you like to headbang to? I don't for the sake of avoiding a headache and getting dizzy. Anything you might be giving up on soon? In the back of my mind, every once in a while lately, my hope's dimmed for photography, but I just refuse to give up. Have you ever made any kind of video? Yeah. Have you ever taken someone back after they’ve cheated? Hell no. How many living grandparents do you still have? One. Is there a garage or carport attached to your house? No. Have you ever stayed in a hotel without your parents or older relatives? No.

[waltondaniel0-blog]

Dealers Earn Just $23 Per Car Distributed

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