#got bored and decided to make a California reference list
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camifornilla · 3 months ago
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I love when other countries set their stories in Hollywood/California cuz then I get to sit there reading it like Wrong! Wrong, wrong, wrong! Unlikely. Inaccurate. Wrong.
Some fun facts about California:
We have no private beaches, people might put stuff on the beach to make it seem like a private beach, but beaches are not private here and the public is allowed to access the beach at all times.
If you’re in a Hollywood/Downtown Los Angeles setting, keep in mind we have a lot of traffic. If you want your character to be an LA native, they’ll call traffic traffic because that’s just what it is. If they’re from some other city/state/etc and they moved to LA later they’ll call it “LA Traffic” (but please don’t put that to paper cuz it’s fucking annoying and their opinions Do Not Count).
Weather wise: In Southern California/SoCal we get earthquakes, droughts, and not a lot of rain.
If we do get rain, we also get a lot of flash flooding. We don’t typically get snow unless you’re high up in the mountains and the mountains that get snow are Very far away from any other noteworthy location (like 1-3 hours).
If you’re gonna put an earthquake in for a native, you’ve gotta make it Big Big for it to be really plot worthy (like you’re in the epicenter for something 5.0 or greater) otherwise you’ll probably sleep through it, not notice it at all, or maybe feel a bit of vertigo. If they’re a transplant, make them react to anything 3.0+ because they’re not used to it.
If ya want animal related drama and they’re in a foresty/hilly setting drop in some coyotes and if it’s Really foresty and mountainous maybe add some mountain lions. I’ve never had an encounter with mountain lions beyond seeing them on the news but coyotes are very common. Folks don’t leave their small dogs out alone sometimes cuz Coyotes tend to attack/eat them.
Edit: the Pacific Ocean is really cold. It’s always very cold.
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imjusttpeachy · 5 years ago
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bumpy roads & broken promises. (c.h.)
EDIT: Lmaoooo I did not expect this to actually get notes, thanks guys! I already made it onto someone’s fic recs-- I feel special. Actually might end up writing more if this gets more attention. :^)
I wrote this as a vent/comfort fic for myself but figured others might like it. Corpse has been my new safety youtuber ever since the old nosleep reader--deep voice/no face gamer went to shit so... yeah. 
Heavily inspired by @mmonamona ‘s fic “Petty Fights and Lonely Nights” just more angst. 
playlist
feng suave - sink into the floor
current joys - a different age
feng suave - venus flytrap
rei ami - do it right
summary: Corpse gets frustrated with work and snaps at the reader when she tries to ask what’s wrong, triggering a bad memory from a past relationship. 
word count: 2, 932
WARNINGS: she/her pronouns used, coarse language, shouting, panic attacks, reference to past relationship trauma (no retelling, nothing detailed)
(angst, hurt/comfort, crying! lots of it)
>>>
“God would you just fuck off already?!”
Frozen. Your body tensed up as the deep growl echoed through the cramped dark room.
You had been staying at your boyfriend’s apartment for about a week while you were on break from college. Flying out from the UK to California so you could spend as much time as you could with him before ultimately having to return to 5am facetimes while drowning in papers and essays.
Even before you’d booked the tickets, Corpse was already apologizing for everything under the sun. The size of his apartment and its cleanliness, the fact that he couldn’t do much more than order take out for you, his irregular sleeping patterns.. the list could go on and on. And while you assured him every time that you didn’t care, that you were coming to see him— not his apartment, not home cooked meals, and definitely not to scrutinize him for things he couldn’t control due to his mental health. But he wouldn’t buy it.
Not one bit.
He’d offer you a weary half-smile, pulling you into his chest or ruffling your hair before placing a soft kiss on your temple and changing the subject. You didn’t press any further knowing how often he was at war with his own mind and couldn’t help but think the worse of every situation.
As the days carried on, you’d spent most of your time tangled up in each other. Whether it be a movie, or playing some co-op games, or even just laying in his bed with him, you could barely stand to spend any time apart. But, of course, you were adults with responsibilities that would tear you from one another eventually. While you did miss his presence every second he wasn’t around, you couldn’t help but try to make his life even better for when he got back and for when you’d eventually have to leave him once again. Now, a week into your stay, his apartment was a good amount tidier than how it’d been when you arrived. The cupboards and fridge were stocked with groceries that would hopefully last for some time after you left, on top of the home made meals you’d make together or for him everyday. New picture frames were hung up on the wall of the two of you that you’d gifted to him when you arrived; it actually started to feel like home. Well, as much as it could without those familiar strong arms wrapped around you every second of the day.
Unfortunately, this evening was one of those times. Corpse had already been locked up in his office for a few hours now, the sounds of button mashing and frustrated exclamations making its way through the thin walls every so often bringing an amused smile to your face. He’d woken up a bit anxious already knowing he’d have to both leave you alone and put up a brave front for the stream that was planned that evening. You didn’t push him or try to talk about it, knowing that it would just make it worse; so you two had spent the day as it normally would (though he always looked and felt on edge) until he was forced to retreat back into that dreaded workspace.
You occupied yourself on your phone and laptop for a while, checking up on friends, reviewing anything you’d need for the upcoming semester, just scrolling through your socials— y’know, the works. But by the time you’d gotten bored with your scrolling, you’d notice it was a perfect time to start dinner that you’d hopefully be able to eat together with Corpse. You’d gotten to work right away, doing your best to be as quiet as you could to not disturb his work as the different aromas began to spread through the small kitchen in his apartment. Finishing up the dishes after the meal was all cooked, you dished up two servings and set them on the coffee table in front of the couch before you went to retrieve your other half.
Turning the knob of his office door slowly, you peered into the dark room; only the silhouette of the floppy mop of hair you adored so much was able to be seen in the dim light of his computer monitors. Taking a hard look at his right-most monitor you notice an editing software pulled up instead of the usual live chat he had on while streaming, so without any worry of interrupting you opened the door and stepped into the room. It was a cozy room for sure, and it always seemed to smell just like him— which of course is a given but with how much time he spent in this room, it was even more so present. Walking up slowly to his right side so you wouldn’t startle him with just your voice you watched his gaze flick to your form before steadying itself back in the monitor. Furrowing your brows at his strange behaviour but not letting it get to you, you opened your mouth to speak.
“I made dinner!” You smiled down at him, taking a few steps back toward the door so he would be able to get out of his gaming chair without you in his space. However, the hunched form of your focused boyfriend didn’t move an inch. Your heart sunk a little at his attitude but decided to just try again.
“Corpse, baby, dinners ready.”
“I’m not hungry.” The short statement left his mouth in a low grumble, if you hadn’t spent all this time with him studying his voice and begging him to speak more to you, you probably wouldn’t have been able make it out at all. You huffed out a sigh, this was new for him, you really hadn’t seen him as anything other than the cuddly baby you’d grown to know and love. But, you thought to yourself, love would come with days like this and it was bound to happen eventually. Trying your best to not get frustrated or angry with his snappy attitude, you kept your voice light and cheery as you tried again to coax him out to eat.
“Corpse you’ve barely eaten today I-“
“I said I’m not hungry.” Startling at the angry tone you’d never heard from him before, you could feel yourself start to get choked up. Pulling your hands up to hug your arms, trying to sooth yourself, you could feel yourself starting to slowly freeze up. Goosebumps ran over your skin, a chill snaking  it’s way up your spine as you gulped, trying your best to muster up the bravery to speak again. You didn’t know what had gotten into him, he knew how the tone affected you— he was usually even the one to comfort you after an episode triggering something like this. As your mouth began to run dry, you took a deep breath deciding that he would definitely come to his senses in the next moments, you opened your mouth to speak again.
“Is everything alri-“
“I’m FINE! I’m not a FUCKING CHILD I don’t need you constantly checking up on me! God would you just fuck off already!”
You didn’t even notice the tears dripping off your cheeks until they splashed against the bare skin of your hand. Slipping into the defense mode you knew so well, your body switched onto autopilot as you began to backpedal out of the room, almost tripping a few times as you sputtered out a choked “okay, I’m sorry,” before closing his door once again and stumbling messily down the hallway to his room. Your mind was moving a thousand miles a minute yet was completely blank at the same time, and before you knew it you were tucked away inside the dark closet in his room.
This was the routine, this is where you’d be safe.
Trying to slow your erratic breathing you hugged your knees even closer to your chest, praying that in some way it would ease your shaking body. But inevitably, you felt the sobs that you’d kept trapped in your throat since you’d left break through. Your chest heaved with the breaths you took to keep your sobs as silent as possible. You thought you had trained yourself well enough for this, you’d done this a million times before— but in the back of your mind you knew that this time it was different. Shrinking into the corner of the closet, the only thing on your mind was all the broken promises he’d sworn to keep.
>>>
Corpse sighed, his body weighing him down in his chair heavily, head aching with all the work he’d been doing that evening. Pulling his attention back, he stretched his arms as his sore eyes glanced over at the clock in the corner of his screen. 11:34pm. Fuck. That much time had passed already? Raking a hand through his hair he yawned sleepily, he knew he should probably spend more time working before calling it a night but all he wanted to do was curl up in bed with you-
Shit.
Finally snapping out of the heavy trance he’d set himself in every time he sat down to edit, he thought back to the last time he had seen you— calling him for dinner where he snapped at you to leave him alone… almost 3 hours ago. The memories of the past moment flooded into his head and seconds later he was scrambling out of his chair and out into the hallway. It was dead silent, Corpse felt like his heart was practically breaking his ribs with how hard it was pounding in his chest. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Gripping at the right side of his shirt he rushed into the living room, rubbing frantically at his eyes as they darted around the room quickly looking for any sign of you.
“(Y/N), baby?” He rasped out, voice caught in his throat, walking through the living room and spotting the now cold meals she’d prepared waiting uneaten on the coffee table. His heart sunk as he hurried to the kitchen only to see the rest of the meal out on the counter, not doing anything to ease his mind. He called your name again and again; rushing back into the living room his eyes darted to the front door, a tiny bit of relief pricking his system as he saw the door was still locked and latched, as well as seeing your shoes and jacket by the door. Rushing back into the hallway he peeked into the bathroom, flicking on the light switch and with no sign of you, continued down the hallway to his room.
“(Y/N), please baby.” Flicking on the light his eyes scanned the room not catching a single sight of you-- when he heard it. Slowing his breathing down as much as he could in his panicked state he focused in his hearing on the small heaves of air coming from the closet. Stomach dropping, Corpse collapsed onto his knees, legs giving way from underneath him when he realized where you were and what was happening. Crawling his way toward the closet door he stopped right outside of it, he heard your breath hitch and knew you were holding it out of practiced instinct which made him want to vomit. But it wasn’t about him right now, so with a deep breath he finally managed to whisper out.
>>>
“Princess, I’m gonna open the door okay?”
Finally releasing the breath you had been holding, your lungs heaved for air as light flooded into the dark closet. Peeking an eye out from where it was buried in your knees, you blearily made out your boyfriend’s blurry figure kneeling outside the closet. With your body feeling like it was completely out of your control, sobs once again began to rack your huddled form as you shrunk away from him as far as you could into the corner of the closet.
“I’m gonna come in and sit with you okay, I won’t touch you unless you say I can alright?” You could hear some shuffling before hearing the door creak shut again engulfing the both of you in almost complete darkness, save for the few streams of yellow light coming from the cracks of the door. Corpse stared forward in complete silence, long legs bent uncomfortably and body hunched over in the cramped space of the closet trying to give you as much space as possible but knowing that the first step was sitting with you. The man beside you sighed softly, feeling his heart splinter with every heaving sob that raked over you; he could feel his own tears prick at his eyes and a sob starting to well up in his throat but he held them back. Mustering up the courage and will he finally opened his mouth to speak.
“(Y/N) I am so, so fucking sorry,” his voice pitched just above a whisper because he knew if his voice got any deeper that it would startle you and scare you even more than how you were already feeling right now. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking. It never should’ve hap-“
“Y- You br- broke your promise.” Your reply came in watery, stuttered breaths; the knot in Corpse’s throat came right back up, tears filling his waterline as much as he tried to keep his composure for your sake.
“I know. I know I did.” The man beside you managed to choke out thinking back to the day where he first lost his temper around you. You’d told him everything about your experience with your past relationships and how you were treated, what you used to cope and what he could do to avoid that in any way possible. He promised that day that he would never again raise his voice, or move too fast even when he was angry or frustrated, and made sure to note down anything that would possibly trigger you to completely avoid altogether. And he kept those promises… until today. Tilting his head to glance over at you, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of the closet to see you staring straight ahead, tears pouring endlessly down your damp face as your body still shook with soft cries.
“I can’t lose you (Y/N)” Corpse’s voice shook as he tried to figure out the right things to say that would keep you from walking right out that door.
“I’ll do anything. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’ll be better, I swear on my life I’ll be better. Anything you need— it’s yours. I just.. I can’t lose you. Not like this.” He hated how much he sounded like he was pleading when he’s the one who fucked up. The last thing he wanted to do was manipulate you into staying with him which was exactly what your ex did when they made the same mistake time and time again; something he swore he’d never even think of doing. But here he was, and here you were glancing up at him with bloodshot eyes, hair sticking to your tear slicked face and body shaking so much you’d think it was below freezing in there.
Tearing your gaze away from his, you heaved a watery, shaky sigh trying your best to get your thoughts in order. While you had your issues, you knew he had his as well; and with as much patience and understanding he gives you with your snappy, frustrated, sad days, you needed to give back that same patience and understanding with his own. You needed to be brave here.
“Baby-“
“C-Can you just hold me? Please?” You sputtered out just above a whisper, and before you could even unwrap your arms from around yourself Corpse was pulling you into his lap; strong arms encasing you as he pushed his face into your hair. That’s when you found out he was shaking just as much as you were, chest rising and falling erratically with contained sobs as he tried to keep his brave demeanour up for you. Tucking your head under his chin he leaned back against the wall as he crushed you to his chest, the droplets hitting the top of your head giving way to the fact that he was crying too. Pulling your arms up from your side, you slowly wrapped them around his shoulder as he pushed his face against the crook of your neck, sobs finally giving way as he cried helplessly into your shoulder; further dampening the already tear-soaked cloth of the hoodie you were wearing.
“I’m sorry,” Corpse sputtered, hooking his chin over your shoulder so he could keep up with the heaving of his chest, pulling an arm up from around your waist to rest on the back of your head. As much as he wanted to run his hands all over your body and bury his fingers in your hair to feel and memorize every inch of you, he kept them still not wanting to overwhelm you more than this kind of touch already did.
“I love you, I love you so much, I love you..“ he whispered over and over into the darkness of the closet as you both began to breath slower as one. Shushing him softly, you repeated the soft words back to him before wrapping your arms tighter around his shoulders, ensuring him that you were going to be alright.
There would be bumps in the road but Corpse was worth it.
__________________________________
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nekojitachan · 5 years ago
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For some reason I was inspired to write more of ‘The Real Thing’. No clue why....
I thought this was going to be really short, too. Ha.
We’re starting to move things along, time-wise and plot-wise. Seriously.
Last part can be found here.
*******
“So, uhm, how are things going there? I mean, outside of the games, you Ravens are on the usual winning streak and they’re already talking about you making Court with the way you’re shutting down the goal whenever you’re playing, but with classes and… uhm, well, with Nathaniel?”
If Nicky didn’t sound as if he expected Andrew to yell at him at any moment, Andrew would tell him to fuck off and hang up. However, Nicky insisted on sending him care packages (and sappy A/B/O books, which Nathaniel continued to ask him about and allowed Andrew to invent ridiculous answers in return) and checking up on him, so… so Andrew humored his cousin.
(Or something like that.)
“I should make the dean’s list this semester and Nate’s fine,” Andrew said as he fought the urge to tap his fingers against the top of his desk.
“Hmm, just fine? He’s your soulmate.”
Once again, Andrew wished that he could have slit Riko’s throat before the prick had announced to the world that Nathaniel was his soulmate, even as at the same time he felt a deeply buried hint of satisfaction over knowing that everyone referred to Nathaniel as ‘his’.
He needed a drink.
“He’s fine,” Andrew repeated. “Still breathing and has all of his limbs.” All of his very attractive, very flexible limbs.
“That’s not- oh fine.” Nicky was definitely sulking on the other end of the line. “You could be a bit more romantic about finding your other half, you know.”
“Why? He’s my other half.”
“Exactly.” Nicky’s tone softened as he spoke that word. It was quiet for a few seconds before he spoke again. “Uhm, you hear from Aaron lately?”
Andrew didn’t say anything as he thought about how his twin continued to avoid him.
“Ah, yeah, okay.” Now Nicky sounded sad. “He’ll… he’ll come around. It’s difficult, not knowing where one’s soulmate is when everyone else has found theirs,” he tried to explain. “He’s feeling a bit jealous right now.”
Why would Aaron feel jealous? Andrew had moved away from California and given up any chance of a family he might have with Cass because of his brother (even if it included Drake), had gotten rid of Tilda for Aaron (who really should pay attention when making bargains), had joined the Ravens… well, partially because of the scholarship extended to Aaron (and partially because of the north star mark on his left forearm).
“It’s time for practice,” Andrew lied, unwilling to talk anymore.
“Oh, okay. Tell Nathaniel I said ‘hi’! I can’t wait to meet him, maybe during the holiday-“
Andrew hung up on his insane cousin before Nicky could go any further with that ridiculous plan, then completed his English homework. Ben had gone off to one of the study rooms to talk to his family, and returned a few minutes before the afternoon practice started (for real) with a disgruntled expression on his face.
When Andrew arched an eyebrow over the way his roommate slammed his books onto his desk, Ben huffed and shook his head. “Riko’s being even more of his ‘I’m the captain, do what I say or else’ self.” When Andrew’s drug-induced smile flattened, Ben shook his head again, that time with more vigor. “Nate wasn’t involved! He went after Jordon because of his performance this morning, and then got even angrier when Kevin tried to step in.”
As long as Nathaniel was all right. “What else is new?” Riko had become a nagging little bitch (more of a nagging little bitch) as the season progressed, as he became obsessed with ensuring that the Ravens led not only their district but the entire Class I division in points, as he excelled in both the collegiate and professional leagues.
Which meant that he became a bitter little bitch whenever he felt that he wasn’t given his due as the best striker in all of Exy, whenever someone stole his thunder (especially if it was his own partner) or if he believed that his teammates were lacking. Which meant that the Ravens had to put up with the psychotic prick’s mercurial moods.
Had Andrew said moods? More like tantrums.
At least as long as Andrew continued to either shut down the goal entirely during his time on court (not always possible) or limit the other team to one or two points, then Riko left him (and Nathaniel) alone. Well, the prick wasn’t happy when he ‘politely’ (meaning didn’t shove a knife in their ribs) reminded people to keep their fucking hands off Nathaniel, but it was still possible to play a game with a concussion or broken fingers.
Ben managed a weak chuckle at Andrew’s statement, then they left for practice; Andrew didn’t see Nathaniel or Jean in the locker room, which meant that they were already out on court. That wasn’t too much of a surprise since as part of Riko’s ‘perfect court’, they were expected to put in extra effort (to live up to the ‘perfect’ part), but it also meant that a certain prick expected more of them.
Andrew didn’t exactly run out of the locker room, but he managed a fast-paced ‘saunter’ that got him to the court before the rest of the team. He was just in time to notice a very familiar flush to his soulmate’s cheeks and gleam in those startling blue eyes as Nathaniel watched on while Riko tore into Kevin about – well, Andrew didn’t really give a shit about what, just stopping Nathaniel from getting into trouble.
“Why don’t you-“
“There’s my sweetpea!” Andrew called out right before he used his racquet as an improvised hook to draw Nathaniel towards him; Jean jumped at the loud noise then scoffed at his actions. “Got a kiss for your honeybun?”
“I’ve got a knife for your belly,” Nathaniel gritted out, yet he allowed Andrew to ‘reel’ him in. “What did I say about calling me that?”
Andrew pretended to think about the demand for a moment. “Okay, snugglewoogums.”
Behind them, Jean tried to turn a chuckle into a cough while Riko finally stopped berating Kevin. Nathaniel gave Andrew an incredibly pained look before he shook his head in defeat. “Fine, stick with the first one,” he spat as he ducked his head.
Aware of Riko’s attention on them, Andrew allowed his grin and tone to take on a salacious edge. “I told you I always get my way.” He smacked his soulmate on the ass with the handle of his racquet, well aware that he’d get an earful (and more threats about being filleted) later on, while Riko grinned in approval.
“It seems we finally found someone to tame our wild #3,” Riko taunted; for a moment, Andrew worried that it would set off his soulmate, but Nathaniel glanced over at Kevin, who had hurried to get the rest of the team ready for practice (and away from Riko), and seemed to decide to let the snide comment slide since things had settled down.
It was the usual Ravens’ practice after that (of which Andrew was So. Damn. Bored); going over the Ravens’ drills (and being caned by Tetsuji for any mistakes), followed by learning a new play or two (and being caned for not paying attention) and then a few scrimmages (and more caning for mistakes). Riko was quick to pounce on any players he felt weren’t up to the team’s demanding standards, to the point that Andrew was certain that he wasn’t the only one looking forward to the next time the asshole left for a Wildcats’ game.
As expected, Nathaniel dragged Andrew off to a table in the far corner of the dining hall after practice; no one paid any attention to him eating with his soulmate and Jean anymore, while Ben was fine having his meals with Leif and Toby (who actually said more than two words at a time to him). Jean sat with his back to the other Ravens, which helped to block any curious gazes, while Nathaniel glared as he jabbed a chopstick at the grilled tofu lying on top of his bowl of seasoned rice. “Laying it on a bit thick earlier, weren’t you?” He pitched his voice low so it wouldn’t carry very far. “Honeybun?” There was enough malice in the ‘nickname’ to choke a horse (too bad it didn’t choke Andrew and give him an excuse to skip dinner).
Andrew grunted as he contemplated flinging his own piece of tofu as far across the dining hall as possible. “Oh, did you and Valjean want to be beaten for pissing off Riko today?” It was a bit of a low blow to drag Jean into things, but the best way to prove his point.
Nathaniel appeared guilty while Jean gave him a warning look for such dirty tactics, which Andrew ignored. “He’s being a real asshole to Kevin lately for no reason.”
Other than being a jealous, insecure prick, but what else was new? “Kevin’s a big boy, let him take care of himself.”
“Kevin can’t fend for himself once off an Exy court or outside a press conference,” Nathaniel muttered, which made Jean chuckle. “But whatever,” he said when Andrew narrowed his eyes. “You done with your homework for the day?”
“Yes, you?”
Nathaniel nodded. “You… uhm, coming back to the room with us?” He kept poking at the disgusting slab of tofu while a hint of blush spread across his sharp cheekbones.
Despite the fact that Andrew basically went to Nathaniel’s room every night after dinner (unless it was a game night), he nodded and forced his attention on his own dinner while Nathaniel murmured ‘good’ and Jean looked as if he was about to get up and leave the table in disgust.
The rest of the meal passed in silence.
Once they reached the relative peace and safety (relative) of Nathaniel’s room, he pulled out the German language books which Nicky had sent Andrew (oh how his cousin had been delighted to know that Nathaniel had wanted to improve upon his slight knowledge of the language) so they could work on it that night; they’d taken to alternating between German and French in the last few weeks. Between Andrew’s eidetic memory and Nathaniel’s almost uncanny ability to learn languages, they were progressing rapidly between the two.
(Andrew wanted to know what the hell his soulmate and Jean were saying all the time – and to be warned by Jean if necessary – and to talk to Nathaniel privately.)
Andrew sat on Nathaniel’s bed, all too aware of how close they were to each other, as they went through the lessons that Nathaniel had worked on earlier that day and his pronunciation (which was damn good). They were in the middle of a short dialogue (asking for directions) when Nathaniel’s phone pinged, which was a rare occasion; almost everyone he knew was in the Nest, and his father certainly didn’t bother to talk to him.
Nathaniel’s brows drew together in a puzzled expression as he looked at his phone; Andrew noticed how Jean paused in reading a book to give his partner a worried glance. “I won’t be able to watch the game on Friday,” Nathaniel announced after texting back a response. “Ichirou wants me in the East Tower to translate.”
Andrew felt a wave of… of something dark and possessive and primordial slam into him as a wide smile spread across his face. “Oh, how wonderful, fun Moriyama time. Will Nathan be there to play as well?” He could easily (oh so easily) remember the bruises which had littered lovely ‘Nat’s’ face after his last father’s visit.
Nathaniel twitched at the response, which earned a muttered curse from Jean. “I… no.” Nathaniel shook his head, which caused the workbook in his lap to slip onto the bed and his dark auburn curls to flash through the air. “He doesn’t… not when Ichirou… no.”
The incoherence was a sign of how upset he was, as was the way his hands twisted in the hem of the overlarge black sweatshirt he wore; aware of how he was the cause of such disturbance, Andrew found himself reaching to thread his fingers through those mussed curls without a thought, to leaning forward until he felt his soulmate’s breath warm against his face, until he could see the flecks of pale grey swirl in those icy blue eyes….
A manic part of him urged him on to kiss his soulmate, to feel something, to take whatever he could – for a moment he almost gave into it, too. Then he noticed the naked emotion on Nathaniel’s face, the odd mix of trust and confusion, and found himself leaning back even as his hand wrapped around his soulmate’s nape.
(NathanielwasapipedreamwasmaybetooperfectforhimbutifhetookhimnowlikeTHISthenhe’ddefinitelyneverknowifadreamcouldbecomereality)
“Be certain,” Andrew said, his voice thick for some reason. “Because I feel that I’m due an introduction with your father for some reason, an introduction where I have a very sharp or heavy object in my hand which I make very familiar with him many, many times.”
His soulmate gazed at him for several seconds as if trying to make sense of the words before he gave up and rested his forehead on Andrew’s shoulder. When Andrew glanced at Jean, the French bastard shook his head. “I’m putting my money on the Butcher, not a runt like you.”
“He’s an old man,” Andrew sneered.
“An old man who’s used to fighting off overreaching fools. Up your game, Minyard.”
Andrew gave him the bird while he combed the fingers of his other hand through Nathaniel’s hair; once he realized what he was doing, he forced his hands away from his soulmate. Nathaniel blinked at the loss of contact then slowly rose from the bed. “Aah, it’s late,” he said as he walked toward the bathroom.
Jean waited until the door closed behind him and there was the sound of water running to lean forward and gaze at Andrew. “He doesn’t say much about what happens up in the Tower, but I know that Ichirou doesn’t let Nathan touch him,” he told Andrew, his deep voice quiet in the small room. “Kengo doesn’t stop the bastard at all, but Ichirou does.”
Andrew thought about that as he gathered up the German language books then placed them on Nathaniel’s desk. “Why?” Why did Ichirou protect Nathaniel?
Jean shook his head. “I don’t know, and I don’t think Nat does, either.”
Yet another question to add to the growing pile of them, but at least Andrew knew that Nathaniel should be safe that Friday. Should. He’d have to wait for a better answer after their game with the University of Vermont’s Catamounts.
(When he was alone, with his soulmate, without any drugs in his system….).
Except things didn’t exactly go that way – Andrew should be used to life fucking up his plans by then. After all but shutting down the goal except for one point during his time out on court, he’d dealt with the usual post-game bullshit, showered, changed and was about to head to Nathaniel’s room (well aware of the clock ticking down on his drug-free moments) when Akagi insisted that he follow the assistant coach to Tetsuji’s office.
He was ready to ignore the man, except Aaron’s name was mentioned.
Well aware that he hadn’t seen his brother in class that morning, Andrew pushed aside the urge to tell the Moriyama lackey to ‘fuck off’ (along with the growing sense of nausea) and tagged along; the rare burst of true anger helped to push back the withdrawal that sunk vicious claws into his nerves until they sizzled with an aching itch that wasn’t quite pain.
Not yet, at least.
Andrew found his twin, bleary-eyed and reeking of alcohol, standing hunched over as to make himself appear even smaller in Tetsuji’s office with some middle-aged man who turned out to be the Dean of Science. He stood there and listened while Tetsuji basically talked the man out of evicting Aaron from Edgar Allan because of the stupid prank he and his ‘friends’ had done due earlier that evening to the stabilizing effect (what a fucking joke) he had on one of the Ravens’ most promising players, and that Tetsuji was certain that he could find something to keep Aaron busy so such an incident wasn’t repeated.
From the look Tetsuji gave Andrew, he knew that such a thing better not happen again, and that he’d be paying for the ‘Master’s’ intervention.
“How could you be so stupid,” he hissed in German while the two men hashed out the details of Aaron’s new ‘work study’ position.
Aaron wavered on his feet while he shook his head. “I didn’t- why the fuck do you care?” he whispered back.
Because the Moriyamas never did anything for free. Because the price better not involve Nathaniel. Because Andrew was always cleaning up for his twin. “You were supposed to stay out of trouble.” Andrew had done what he could to keep track of his brother while on campus, but that task had grown almost impossible between juggling classes, being a Raven, Nathaniel, and Aaron ignoring him the past few weeks. “Not break into-“
“You have everything,” Aaron turned to give him a look that was pure jealousy. “They’re already talking about you making Court, you found your soulmate, what else is there? I’ve got nothing.”
He certainly didn’t have any brains, Andrew thought with growing bitterness. He had a scholarship to pursue his dreams of being a doctor, he had the brother he’d begged for along with the second chance of a future. ‘Nothing’ indeed.
However, it seemed that Tetsuji and the other guy were finished, so away Aaron went, leaving Andrew to find out what he owed for his brother’s latest folly. “I suggest making him clean the bathrooms,” Andrew said as he struggled not to fidget from the growing drug withdrawals.
Tetsuji regarded him in that flat, ‘you are worthless to me’ manner which made him such a cheerful fellow for a few seconds before he leaned back in his big leather chair. “I know about the deal you made with my nephew, both about Nathaniel and being off your medication while on court.” His thick brows drew together very slightly, the only hint of disapproval on his usually mask-like face; if it were during a practice session, Andrew would expect the bastard’s cane to be brought down on him at any moment. “You shouldn’t need any incentive to do your best during a game, but one can be… irrational in regards to their soulmate.”
One could also be irrational as fuck in regards to their psychotic nephew, but Andrew (for once) kept his mouth shut, considering what had happened in the past few minutes, and considering the reference to Nathaniel.
(Oh, was it difficult, though.)
Tetsuji nodded once, as if pleased by his silence. “Your performance on court is exemplary and has helped the team to have one of their best seasons in years. Upon comparing it to how you play during scrimmages, I believe you were correct when you told Riko that you play best when off your medication. That’s why I’ve had Dr. Gale submit a recommendation that you’ve improved enough in the last few months and no longer need it.”
That… was not what Andrew had expected to hear. “He can do that?” He was supposed to have weekly sessions with the psychiatrist, per the whole court sentencing thing, but one of the very few good things about having signed with the Ravens was, due to the hectic practice schedule, after attending a couple of them, the weekly visits had just… stopped. Dr. Gale would swing by the court once a week to technically ‘see’ Andrew, but that was that, and nothing else was said about the matter.
“He already has; along with the recommendations from your professors and me, it’s expected to be approved.” Tetsuji gave him an intent look. “You’ll be checked in to a local rehabilitation center over the winter break and return in time for the spring semester to play unmedicated.”
On one hand, Andrew felt an odd fluttering in his chest at the thought of being off the damn medication early, in no longer having to take it (in being done with it earlier than expected after he’d found Nathaniel). On the other hand, he was being told to do something, and while he wasn’t the twin studying medicine, he could do a quick bit of math and realized that winter break didn’t give him a lot of time to come off an additive drug.
(But Aaron had done it, so why couldn’t he?)
His innate nature to do the opposite of what he’d been told struggled with the fact that this was what not only he owed to keep Aaron at Edgar Allan but was what he wanted as well; after several seconds, he gave the ‘Master’ a curt nod.
Tetsuji nodded once in return. “Prepare accordingly,” was all he said before he motioned for Andrew to leave.
Andrew didn’t waste any time doing just that.
Nathaniel appeared anxious when he reached his soulmate’s room but didn’t ask any questions. He took one look at Andrew and got out of the way as Andrew went straight to the bathroom so he could take the damn medication (only for a little longer) and get ready for bed. When Andrew came out several minutes later, it was to find that Nathaniel had switched out the sheets for him on Jean’s bed.
“Uhm, everything okay?” Nathaniel asked, his expression uncertain.
Andrew took a moment to check that his soulmate was unharmed (at least physically), that the only bruises on him were a couple fading ones from practice earlier in the week. “Long day.” He was too tired right then to talk about Aaron, Ichirou and winter break, too… it was too much. It would wait until morning.
Yet all Nathaniel did was give him a slight, earnest smile and went to fetch something from his desk. “Okay. Ah, here.” He handed over a small bundle wrapped in a black cloth napkin, a hint of pink on his cheeks. “There were snacks and since it was Ichirou… I was able to bring something back I thought you might like. Good night.” That done, he hurried over to his bed.
Andrew stared after him for moment before he unwrapped the napkin to reveal a large chocolate cupcake with chocolate frosting drizzled with caramel, topped with a chocolate raven. Despite the slight upheaval to his stomach from before and the fact that he’d just brushed his teeth, Andrew felt his mouth begin to salivate and sat down on the bed so he could spread the napkin over his lap.
The cupcake was delicious, was the best thing he’d tasted in weeks, was a chocolate overload that made him want to groan in delight. Once he was done licking the last trace of buttercream from his fingers, he glanced over at his soulmate, who was pretending to be asleep. “Thanks, sweetpea. Next time, grab at least two.”
Nathaniel made an adorable growling sound before he spoke. “Sure, the more poison, the better,” he grumbled before he jerked the bedding higher up his narrow shoulders.
Andrew began to count the days left until winter break as he crawled beneath blankets.
*******
Excited for what happens in the next few parts. I always knew how this was going to end, but had a flash of actual dialogue the other night and... YES.
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steve0discusses · 5 years ago
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Yugioh S4 Ep 18 pt 2: Yami Visits Yugi in Hell, California
So, last we left the team, we were running straight into Hell, which is located about where the IRL Costco is.
Everyone except Tea, who is apparently way too scary of a person to run into Hell.
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So the rules of the spirit realm are that if you have more than one person too many vengeful spirits will be present, but like...how many vengeful dead spirits does Tea have??? The implications of Tea’s former life here are kind of a lot. Anyway, no Tea’s allowed.
TBH, Yugi saw Tea running after him into Hell to pull out his soul he would probably be too scared of the implied commitment to come out.
So, lets get a rollcall of vengeful spirits going, remember Season One?
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holy crap, that’s right, it’s PaniK.
(more dead guys under the cut)
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Then we have the twins who only spoke in rhyme and...I checked the notes here..they didn’t die. They were absolutely fine the last time we met them. But I dunno...maybe Pegasus got bored and sacrificed them to the crypt during Season 2.
Then we come across this guy.
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So according to Bro, Bandit Keith burned alive in the manga or something, while in the show he got away scott free from that warehouse that was on fire in the beginning of S2. My brother has a lot of spicy headcanons but like...
(bro note: I can’t find any reference on the internet easily so it didn’t happen. I just heard it somewhere. Maybe Pharaoh regrets not mind wiping Keith.)
...I feel like even if he’s dead in the Manga you can’t just have him dead here without me lifting my own Stars and Stripes colored eyebrows in doubt. If this guy were to die, it would have to be by very excessive fireworks, and other than that burning warehouse, we’ve had no other opportunities to do it.
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Ah...it’s...this guy. Who never had a name, ever.
Why would you even put him in this montage?
And then we get two people that I know for certain can’t be kicking it.
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So it seems to me that everything happening here is probably not real. This is all Yami’s head, Yami’s thoughts, and Yami’s guilt. And Yami is already really, really hard on himself. He lives with a lot of demons basically all the time. So he kind of walks through here and is like “whaddup, demons.” because this is a very been there, done that situation.
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Can’t believe that Noah and Gozaburo made so little an impact on Yami, as well as all the Big 5 who we’ve killed at least twice, but I guess Yami was kind of sleeping most of that arc.
Other people Yami has dueled in the past that coulllllllllld be offscreen dead that didn’t make the list: 
-The Rare Hunter twins who did a terrorism and fell into a skyscraper
-Alt-rock Kingdom Hearts Mime
-Bonez (who was Bakura’d so like...he might cease to exist on any timeline or anyone’s memories now)
-Pegasus
-BAKURA (Any version of Bakura, honestly. Where is Bakura?)
Anyway, eventually we get to the middle of California Stonehenge, which is where Yugi is currently hanging out like a Star Trek holo deck.
Speaking of hologram--Yugi’s a card right? Yami could have just played Yugi and been like “hey! Can I tell you something?” (and then Seto Kaiba somewhere would notice on his dueling disk facebook that Yugi just plated Yugi Muto’s soul and would be like “Mokuba, we need to ban Yugi’s account, half of his deck is not even tourney legal.”)
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And then Yami spends this precious time to talk mostly about himself. Like honestly, he just went halfway to hell (or Millbrea, or whatever this is) just to vent what he basically already knows.
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And what makes this conversation kind of strange is that Yami starts going off about how Yugi’s the “pure” side of him, the “light” side of him, if you will. I’ve already touched on how much I disagree with this since Yugi is a freakin madman all on his own. And, this episode goes out of it’s way to do the same.
Because it’s about this point that Yugi starts getting real uncharacteristically mad. It’s lowkey kind of hilarious because it’s like:
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And yes, it’s about time that Yugi went off, but it does make you wonder--so is this what Yugi would be like all the time if Pharaoh wasn’t in there, or does Pharaoh assume that Yugi is mad at him, and so his SpiritJourney!Yugi reflect Pharaoh’s own insecurities?
Like, is this even Yugi?
This might not be Yugi at all, this might be just Yami screaming at himself in a desert, which is also very on key for Yami and has been Yami’s whole deal for about (checks watch)...this entire season.
Either way, Yugi’s REALLY pissed off and tired of Pharaohs 49ersfit.
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And so, to take this a step further than just screaming at most likely a hallucination of yourself, Yugi pulls out a duel disk and the two decide to play cards because...
...It just always comes back to cards. Can’t have a heart to heart without doing life threatening card games first.
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And so they decide to have a card match. It goes just about as smoothly as a card match would go when you consider that this is Yami hallucinating/possibly dueling a ghost of himself/just crawled out of a train crash/just murdered the hell out of Weevil Underwood.
Basically this duel has a very silly gimmick.
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Other than playing a lot of the same cards as during the Raphael fight, Yugi spends most of his time just tearing into Yami, which again...justified.
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And for just a little blip of an eye, a little tiny moment--he’s almost a Season Zero Yuugi. Just a nice dark magic Yugi with no ghost, just a real bastard underneath those glowing eyes.
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But anyway, much like the duel where Yami lost his mind and went evil, it didn’t last more than a few minutes before the duel was over and Yugi was just instantly better. Of all the duels this season--this is the one I would have liked to have 3 episodes of. Just saying.
Yugi’s whole explanation for why he’s done this--and this is a stretch, but I guess it still follows card logic--Yugi decided to use the Oricalchos so that he would become the darkness inside of Pharaoh’s mind (since they are the same person), and so when he lost the game, that darkness inside of himself was taken by the Orichalcos, leaving Pharaoh now darkness-free
...It’s a stretch. They’re both still ripe with dark magic so I don’t think it did what they think it did, lore wise. But yeah, it did make Pharaoh physically fight all his insecurities until he killed them (who was also Yugi, don’t think about it). It was also very manipulative, and I just want to throw out there you should not do this to your best friends.
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How many fireballs now has Tea watched Yugi take straight to the chest? At least 3, right? 5?
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Anyway, Yami gets reaaaally upset that he killed his fake dead boy who just used fake (but maybe real?) Orichalcos.
Yami just can’t keep any version of Yugi alive.
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And just like that, Yugi leaves the series, again.
Kind of.
Again, this Yugi was...probably not even Yugi. This was probably a grief-onset hallucination.
Sure am glad that Pharaoh can talk to this barely-even-Yugi to work out his insecurities instead of the--youknow--the GIRL he’s been kind of dating for the past 4 seasons. Really glad Tea kind of stood on a ledge and was like “Do you need to talk about it!?” While Yami was like “Not Necessary!” while he sort of dueled the ghosts in his head.
Kind of a marvel that the only person Yami knows how to talk to is Yugi (who as we found out this episode might be a crazy person) and...kind of Seto Kaiba (who is definitely a crazy person). That’s about it.
Yami’s had a hard time, but hopefully now he can talk to Joey without getting punched directly in the face. I guess we’ll find out next episode.
And if you just got here, this is a link to read these from the beginning.
Hope y’all are staying safe and inside. Us personally, are stuck inside until at least May 1st. Please pray for my patience.
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devinsfm · 5 years ago
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joe keery. cis male. he/him.  /  jack devin just pulled up blasting video killed the radio star by the buggles — that song is so them ! you know, for a twenty - four year old radio show host, i’ve heard they’re really impulsive, but that they make up for it by being so captivating. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say obscure vintage horror comics, blurry photographs of mysterious figures in the woods, and vivid descriptions of spine - chilling tales  . here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble ! ( sam, 23, est, she/her )
hey there, demons ! *ba tum tss* i’m sam and i never do this, but i really felt like it was time for a change, so i drew lots of inspiration from some of my favorite ocs and i love what i’ve come up with ! character info is under the cut and please feel free to message me if you would like to plot !
i. stats
𝔣𝔲𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢: jackson willard devin
𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰: jack, spooky guy, the night watchman 
𝔥𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫: salem, massachusetts
𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔥: ocotber 31st, 1995
𝔷𝔬𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔠: scorpio
𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫: demisexual
𝔬𝔠𝔠𝔲𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫: host of the graveyard shift, a radio program airing every weeknight from 12am to 5am
𝔭𝔬𝔰. 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔰: captivating, witty, resolute. 
𝔫𝔢𝔤. 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔰: impulsive, gauche, naive.
ii. history
jackson willard “jack” devin was born on halloween day ( yes, really ) in salem massachusetts ( yes, really ). his mother stayed home with him as he was growing up while his father is a boston cop turned sheriff of the county and he’s an only child.
outside of the popular tourist spots, his hometown has a very close - knit, stuck in the 80s vibe. it’s the sort of place where everyone knows everyone for their entire lives because no one ever leaves and no one new ever moves in. phone and internet signals are nearly impossible to come by, so the local arcade and the video store still have quite a booming business in the year 2020. jack grew up in a not - so - typical small town suburban gothic environment, his dad’s income being just enough for them to get by every month.
he was an energetic kid who cycled through all sorts of interests, trying out everything from little league ( disaster ) to music lessons ( not as much of a disaster, but he wound up getting bored of it ). nothing seemed to really stick until he got his first horror comic : a vintage issue of tales from the crypt with tattered, yellowing pages. he was five years old and paid five cents for it at an elderly neighbor’s yard sale and from that moment on he was hooked. it started with the comics, but he quickly expanded his horizons to movies, books, and television in the genre of horror.
he got intro drawing and that was the only thing besides his newfound interest in horror that he could sit still for. at first he would just try to re - draw the panels in his comic books, but soon he was drawing anything and everything that caught his interest and he was getting good. he was being homeschooled by his mother at the time, but once friends and family and, well, everyone took notice of his skill, they were encouraging his parents to nurture his talent.
his parents fought about it. his dad didn’t see the value in his skill and wanted him to instead focus on academics, aspiring towards his son one day becoming a lawyer or a businessman or even following in his footsteps. jack never wanted that for himself. he was homeschooled by his mom up until then and she believed in him. it was with her blessing that he would go to a real school for the first time at the age of fourteen, starting off his freshman year at a high school that was a thirty minute train ride away in boston and catered exclusively to youth who demonstrated an exceptional talent in some area of the fine arts.
jack did well in school, but his grades probably would have been a lot better still if he didn’t start purposely acting out as his relationship with his dad got worse and worse. he started skipping classes, getting caught trespassing in cemeteries at 2am, and smoking a lot of weed. 
when it came time for college, jack planned to attend art school. he swears he did. he looked a few schools on the west coast to get away from his dad for a few years yikes and planned to apply, but on the deadline date he got so high that he forgot to submit his portfolios. yes, really.
he loaded up his van ( a turquiose monstrosity he painted to look like the mystery machine ) and headed out to california anyway after telling his parents that he would be attending UCLA. of course, they quickly found it that it was a lie and his dad was furious. the two got into a huge fight over the phone and things were said. the result is that jack and his father haven’t spoken to each other ever since. 
he did lots of odd jobs while he was on the road and basically lived in his van, which didn’t change right away when he decided to settle in LA, but he eventually got a job fetching coffee for the late night employees at a local radio station.
it was the typical, cliché story : the regular late night host called out of work at the last minute, there was no one else around and they were going to be on air in ten seconds. jack was thrown in front of the microphone and told to think fast !
he did, and the listeners loved him for it. whether it was his ramblings about horror movies or his thick boston accent or his reckless use of swear words on live radio, he turned out to be a massive hit. the successful night earned him a gig as an occasional substitute deejay, and with each broadcast he grew more and more popular, and about two years ago he was finally given his own program.
the graveyard shift is a radio program that airs every weeknight from 12am - 5am in the los angeles area and on apps such as iheartradio. jack hosts the show as his ( thinly veiled ) alter ego the night watchmen and discusses topics such as the paranormal, conspiracy theories, and all things horror. it’s one of the most popular programs of the time slot in the country.
it’s something that he never expected or picturing himself doing, but now he can’t imagine doing anything else. he’s become really passionate about revitalizing the field and bringing radio into the 21st century. he signed a HUGE contract with the studio when his show first started and now he’s a quite well known radio personality in the area and across the country.
iii. extras
huge stoner. high as fuck 90% of the time, and the other 10% of the time he’s probably still high, just not as fuck. 
well known for his on air antics. he’ll light a joint in the middle of his radio show, he’ll prank call a friend and broadcast it to the entire city, he’ll curse in every single sentence and skate by on the after hours excuse when he’s reprimanded for it. he’s so outlandish and bizarre and like nothing that’s ever been heard on the radio before, and it just draws people in.
he often seems shy in person, but it’s more like he’s just a little socially awkward, something which also shines through in occasional non - malicious but blunt remarks and general lack of regard for what people think of him. he really just...doesn’t care.
genuinely seems to believe it’s either halloween day and / or the year 1986 at any given moment as that’s about as recent as his pop culture references get. he’s never heard of the k*rdashians, he doesn’t know what the mcu is, and the phrase yeet means absolutely nothing to him. mention any of it to him and he’ll just stare blankly bc he honestly doesn’t have a clue.
HOWEVER, he did start the area 51 meme from last summer.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
still draws. especially if he has to still for a stretch of time, then he’ll take out his latest sketchbook ( he goes through a lot of them ) and start doodling. he’s still quite good, mostly in his favored comic - esque style.
BIG CHAOTIC ENERGY and ZERO IMPULSE CONTROL
a chatterbox with friends but don’t be fooled...he’s been giving his own dad the silent treatment for almost seven ( 7 ) years now. it’s his preferred method of expressing anger towards someone because he isn’t really a fan of confrontation, but he’s maybe a liiiittle bit stubborn.
most of the time he’s a really easygoing person, a good friend and very loyal to the people he cares about. well - meaning, not the best at advice but he’s more likely to try and cheer a person up anyway. 
he has a pet pied ball python named the crypt keeper ( tkc for short ) who he sometimes just carries with him because he likes to just chill wrapped around jack’s hand and arm. 
iv. wanted connections
maternal or paternal cousins ( their grandparents probably live in boston or new england but otherwise anything goes for this )
close friends
friends
guests on his radio show 
fans / haters of his radio show
people who don’t like him / find him annoying
exes ( 1 - 2, can be on good or bad terms )
“casually dating” but it might get real complicated soon - allie james
( these are just ideas and i’m trash at coming up with stuff, so please don’t feel limited by what’s listed here. )
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thebachelordiaries · 5 years ago
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Hannah B. Carrying Peter’s Season On Her Back: ‘The Bachelor’ Ep. 1 Recap
ABC producers filming the first cocktail party: Holy sh*t this Peter guy is boring. This season is gonna be a flop. 
Bachelor Interns: Wait, I have an idea.
*Enter Hannah B*
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The Beast is back to save the first episode from horrible ratings.
The premiere of The Bachelor (when done right) is my favorite episode of each season. I remember Britt and Kaitlyn’s first cocktail party was strung along into two episodes because it was so entertaining. (Fun fact: they also filmed it in two nights and everyone just put on the same clothes from the night before).
But Peter’s first cocktail party was not done right. Night one took up less than half of the three hour premiere. Not one moment struck out to me aside from the Hannah B. cameo and there were way too many pilot/windmill references for my preference.
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Follow me on Twitter and Instagram: @thebachdiaries 
It was very obvious the producers of this show also realized the first cocktail party was too boring for a season premiere, so they packed an entire week filled with dates into it.
There are only five girls who seem to be relevant this season, and I’ve listed them below:
Hannah Ann
There’s a new Hannah in town and she’s nothing like Hannah Beast. In fact, this 23-year-old model reminds me more of Caelynn; a mean girl, fake, and a wolf in sheep’s clothing. At first, I thought she was one of the prettiest girls I’ve seen come out of the limo: a mix between Sarah Hyland and Victoria Justice.
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But that feeling ended real quick when she decided to steal Peter from the other girls on multiple occasions. Peter didn’t seem to mind it, though. He stuck his tongue down her throat and gifted her the first impression rose. Someone needs to be the villain, and it appears Hannah Ann has volunteered as tribute. 
Alayah
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The 24-year-old orthodontist assistant was the first girl out the limo, and that normally means she will likely be a key player. Alayah read Peter a letter her grandma wrote to him and got a lot of camera time. This chick will probably be here for awhile.
Madison
Madison is a foster parent recruiter. Are you kidding me? How am I supposed to make fun of a foster parent recruiter? I refuse. Madison was the second person to receive a rose at the rose ceremony and the first girl to get a 1-on-1 date. 
On the date, she saw Peter’s parents renew their vows. Meeting the parents on the first date personally isn’t my taste, but Madison seemed to enjoy it. Her and Peter talked a whole lot about how strong their connection is, but I genuinely didn’t see any proof of that alleged connection. 
All talk, no action. Even so, I still think she will go pretty far.
Victoria P.
If Madison is an angel, then Victoria P. is a saint. She’s had a hard life. Her father passed away when she was younger and her mom and sister have both battled addiction. Nobody has ever really taken care of her before. Have I mentioned she’s a nurse? I’d die for Victoria P. 
She was the first person to receive a rose at the rose ceremony, which is a slot typically reserved for major players only. 
She also wore glasses during the cocktail hour portion of the group date, which I’ve never seen before. (yes Demi wore glasses on Paradise, but that’s different) 
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Protect this woman at all costs. 
Kelley
According to Kelley, she was at her best friend’s wedding in California and she just so happened to run into Peter in the hotel lobby while he was at his high school reunion. Talk about serendipity! She totally didn’t stalk him.....
We don’t really know what a happened beyond that night except that they “hit it off.” Like, are you telling me that they had a 30 second convo in the hotel lobby and didn’t exchange numbers or go have a drink at the bar? 
Kelley, look at me. 
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Something happened that they’re not talking about. (If you know spoilers, please don’t tell me) Peter was like “I couldn’t stop thinking about you since we met” blah, blah, blah. Did they smash? Yes or no.
Kelley competed in an airplane-themed obstacle course to win a plane ride with Peter, and she won (and got the group date rose) but only because she cheated. Congrats Kelley, I hope making all the other girls hate you was worth it.
Hannah B. Carrying The Episode on Her Back
The former Bachelorette made another appearance at the second group date, where she had to retell the cursed “windmill” story in front of all of Peter’s new girlfriends. The theme of the group date was telling sex stories. 
(Side note: I watch this show with my MOTHER. Why do they do this to me?)
Hannah, who is still under contract and was probably there because she didn’t want to get fined, began crying and was pretty unresponsive when Peter tried bringing up the past.
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Producers to the makeup artist: Don’t use waterproof mascara. Thanks in advance.
ABC, stop holding Hannah hostage and let her go back to Alan teaching her the rumba on Dancing With the Stars, thanks.
I guess these girls are my top five. Do you agree? Let me know who your top picks are!
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devinfm · 5 years ago
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joe keery. cis male. he/him.  /  jack devin just pulled up blasting video killed the radio star by the buggles — that song is so them ! you know, for a twenty - four year old radio show host, i’ve heard they’re really impulsive, but that they make up for it by being so captivating. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say obscure vintage horror comics, blurry photographs of mysterious figures in the woods, and vivid descriptions of spine - chilling tales  . here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble ! ( sam, 23, est, she/her )
hey there, demons! *ba tum tss* i’m sam and i also write parker ( @prkrfm​​ ) which is the best place to contact me for plotting!
i. stats
𝔣𝔲𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢: jackson willard devin
𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰: jack, spooky guy, the night watchman
𝔥𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫: salem, massachusetts
𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔥: ocotber 31st, 1995
𝔷𝔬𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔠: scorpio
𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫: demisexual
𝔬𝔠𝔠𝔲𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫: host of the graveyard shift, a radio program airing every weeknight from 12am to 5am
𝔭𝔬𝔰. 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔰: captivating, witty, resolute.
𝔫𝔢𝔤. 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔰: impulsive, gauche, naive.
ii. history
jackson willard “jack” devin was born on halloween day ( yes, really ) in salem massachusetts ( yes, really ). his mother stayed home with him as he was growing up while his father is a boston cop turned sheriff of the county and he has one sibling, a younger sister.
outside of the popular tourist spots, his hometown has a very close - knit, stuck in the 80s vibe. it’s the sort of place where everyone knows everyone for their entire lives because no one ever leaves and no one new ever moves in. phone and internet signals are nearly impossible to come by, so the local arcade and the video store still have quite a booming business in the year 2020. jack grew up in a not - so - typical small town suburban gothic environment, his dad’s income being just enough for them to get by every month.
he was an energetic kid who cycled through all sorts of interests, trying out everything from little league ( disaster ) to music lessons ( not as much of a disaster, but he wound up getting bored of it ). nothing seemed to really stick until he got his first horror comic : a vintage issue of tales from the crypt with tattered, yellowing pages. he was five years old and paid five cents for it at an elderly neighbor’s yard sale and from that moment on he was hooked. it started with the comics, but he quickly expanded his horizons to movies, books, and television in the genre of horror.
he got intro drawing and that was the only thing besides his newfound interest in horror that he could sit still for. at first he would just try to re - draw the panels in his comic books, but soon he was drawing anything and everything that caught his interest and he was getting good. he was being homeschooled by his mother at the time, but once friends and family and, well, everyone took notice of his skill, they were encouraging his parents to nurture his talent.
his parents fought about it. his dad didn’t see the value in his skill and wanted him to instead focus on academics, aspiring towards his son one day becoming a lawyer or a businessman or even following in his footsteps. jack never wanted that for himself. he was homeschooled by his mom up until then and she believed in him. it was with her blessing that he would go to a real school for the first time at the age of fourteen, starting off his freshman year at a high school that was a thirty minute train ride away in boston and catered exclusively to youth who demonstrated an exceptional talent in some area of the fine arts.
jack did well in school, but his grades probably would have been a lot better still if he didn’t start purposely acting out as his relationship with his dad got worse and worse. he started skipping classes, getting caught trespassing in cemeteries at 2am, and smoking a lot of weed.
when it came time for college, jack planned to attend art school. he swears he did. he looked a few schools on the west coast to get away from his dad for a few years yikes and planned to apply, but on the deadline date he got so high that he forgot to submit his portfolios. yes, really.
he loaded up his van ( a turquiose monstrosity he painted to look like the mystery machine ) and headed out to california anyway after telling his parents that he would be attending UCLA. of course, they quickly found it that it was a lie and his dad was furious. the two got into a huge fight over the phone and things were said. the result is that jack and his father haven’t spoken to each other ever since.
he did lots of odd jobs while he was on the road and basically lived in his van, which didn’t change right away when he decided to settle in LA, but he eventually got a job fetching coffee for the late night employees at a local radio station.
it was the typical, cliché story : the regular late night host called out of work at the last minute, there was no one else around and they were going to be on air in ten seconds. jack was thrown in front of the microphone and told to think fast !
he did, and the listeners loved him for it. whether it was his ramblings about horror movies or his thick boston accent or his reckless use of swear words on live radio, he turned out to be a massive hit. the successful night earned him a gig as an occasional substitute deejay, and with each broadcast he grew more and more popular, and about two years ago he was finally given his own program.
the graveyard shift is a radio program that airs every weeknight from 12am - 5am in the los angeles area and on apps such as iheartradio. jack hosts the show as his ( thinly veiled ) alter ego the night watchman and discusses topics such as the paranormal, conspiracy theories, and all things horror. it’s one of the most popular programs of the time slot in the country.
it’s something that he never expected or picturing himself doing, but now he can’t imagine doing anything else. he’s become really passionate about revitalizing the field and bringing radio into the 21st century. he signed a HUGE contract with the studio when his show first started and now he’s a quite well known radio personality in the area and across the country.
iii. extras
huge stoner. high as fuck 90% of the time, and the other 10% of the time he’s probably still high, just not as fuck.
well known for his on air antics. he’ll light a joint in the middle of his radio show, he’ll prank call a friend and broadcast it to the entire city, he’ll curse in every single sentence and skate by on the after hours excuse when he’s reprimanded for it. he’s so outlandish and bizarre and like nothing that’s ever been heard on the radio before, and it just draws people in.
he often seems shy in person, but it’s more like he’s just a little socially awkward, something which also shines through in occasional non - malicious but blunt remarks and general lack of regard for what people think of him. he really just…doesn’t care.
genuinely seems to believe it’s either halloween day and / or the year 1986 at any given moment as that’s about as recent as his pop culture references get. he’s never heard of the k*rdashians, he doesn’t know what the mcu is, and the phrase yeet means absolutely nothing to him. mention any of it to him and he’ll just stare blankly bc he honestly doesn’t have a clue.
HOWEVER, he did start the area 51 meme from last summer.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
still draws. especially if he has to still for a stretch of time, then he’ll take out his latest sketchbook ( he goes through a lot of them ) and start doodling. he’s still quite good, mostly in his favored comic - esque style.
BIG CHAOTIC ENERGY and ZERO IMPULSE CONTROL
a chatterbox with friends but don’t be fooled…he’s been giving his own dad the silent treatment for almost seven ( 7 ) years now. it’s his preferred method of expressing anger towards someone because he isn’t really a fan of confrontation, but he’s maybe a liiiittle bit stubborn.
most of the time he’s a really easygoing person, a good friend and very loyal to the people he cares about. well - meaning, not the best at advice but he’s more likely to try and cheer a person up anyway.
he has a pet pied ball python named the crypt keeper ( tkc for short ) who he sometimes just carries with him because he likes to just chill wrapped around jack’s hand and arm.
iv. wanted connections
maternal or paternal cousins ( their grandparents probably live in boston or new england but otherwise anything goes for this )
close friends
friends
guests on his radio show
fans / haters of his radio show
people who don’t like him / find him annoying
exes ( 1 - 2, can be on good or bad terms )
“casually dating” but it might get real complicated soon - allie james
( these are just ideas and i’m trash at coming up with stuff, so please don’t feel limited by what’s listed here. )
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ShapeShifter
Alright guys, that break ended up way too long and I am so sorry about that. Once I stopped I just found myself gone and next thing I knew it was March and the same half of a chapter was still sitting in my drafts. But I’m back now, I promise, and I really hope it was worth the wait.
Taglist- @macherie02
If you want to be added to the tag list, feel free to comment on this or message me privately. Now on to part 9
Big Cat (part 1 Smut)
Bloody Night (part 2)
Attempting Casual (part 3)
Set Up (part 4)
Experimenting Together (part 5 Smut)
Unwelcome Guests (part 6)
Come Together (part 7)
Christmas Special (part 8)
Surprisingly Common
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To say Nina was feeling a bit of stress would be an understatement. There was a cup of tea warming between her hands, and beyond that she felt completely cold to her veins. She had no idea her mother would be finding her, fuck she had even gone out of her way to make sure no one from her biological family could find her, even being the one to go visit her home town in the Midwest to avoid ever needing to tell someone what city she was now in. She never shared her location on social media, never tagged what places she went to. She had been so careful to make sure no one could find her, yet somehow here her mother was on her couch. The hazel irises of her mother seemed to take in everything from the small droplets of blood stained into the carpet to the bits of wrapping paper missed in the clean up from opening presents not so long ago. "It's a shame you never invited me over Nina. You know how much I love visiting California. Especially in the winter."
"Between my shop and the bar, I'm always working. I'm not much company anymore Mutti, not the entertainment you're looking for," Nina commented, forcing an even tone to her voice. As a kid, she had begun referring to her mother in German, and that was no different now. The word mom was such an awkward thing to say to her, that's why she used other languages to express maternal links, such as how Kendall and Lincoln's mother was now Madre to her. 
"It's still better than the alone you left me with when you moved. You just told me you were leaving, then disappeared completely. And after your sisters left me, how was I supposed to handle you leaving me too?" The red headed woman told her. "Wasn't I enough for you?"
"I had nothing back home. All I had was you, living in your apartment with no friends, no family to count on nearby, and nothing by painful memories and nostalgia. If I was going to be isolated like you wanted me to be, I may as well be alone in a place that doesn't hurt me. And look at how happy I am here. I'm engaged, living with my best friends, I have my dream career, I'm planning a family with the love of my life." The young woman took a sip of her tea, hoping it would settle at the feeling clawing up her throat. 
"You feel no remorse do you? I sacrificed everything for you, raised you as a single mother, and when you were the only thing I had left you decided I wasn't enough for you and instead ran off from everything." The words stung, hit a place in Nina's heart that she wished she would never feel again. "Nina, I would die losing you, and knowing that you left anyway."
"But none of that was every my fault. You're the one who divorced my father, you quit school which you then went back and finished college later on anyway, you isolated yourself and cut yourself off from all of your friends. And for what?" In the kitchen, just out of sight, the other occupants of the house were able to hear the back and forwarth of the two women. Though he never said it, Kendall would always feel his heart break over the relationship Nina had with her own mother, it was part of why he wanted Nina to get along with his mom so much, but his face currently gave away everything he was feeling. A supportive hand rubbed his back as he listened in on the women, turning just briefly to see it was his younger brother offering the gesture. 
"Well, either way I hope you know I plan on seeing you a lot more now. I just found you, I'm not letting you out of my arms again," the comment caused a small wince from the daughter, memories flooding through her head faster than she could process them, much less push them away. "So, Kendall has been taking care of you right? Keeping an eye on you and keeping you out of trouble?"
"What trouble could I be getting in?" Nina asked, not sure what she meant.
"Well, you've always been a wild card like me. Especially with my mouth. It would take quite a man to actually hold you down and tame you. You've broken every heart you've stolen, just like I have, so it's really just a matter of time before you break Kendall. Or is that what Lincoln is now? How you're planning to break him?" The sudden rage that filled the daughter's veins now burned her fear away for a moment.
"I'm not breaking him, mother, I'm marrying him. He is my mate, my partner in crime, and he's my best friend. He's everything I could ever ask for and more. And that goes for both of them. Lincoln and Kendall make me happy in life, and through this the three of us have always communicated with each other and made sure we were all comfortable with everything before trying something new. No one is hurting anyone," Nina found herself grinding her teeth a bit unintentionally , a low growl in her chest.
"You say that now, but what about when you finally get bored? You never could keep focus for long. It's really only a matter of time before this little obsession passes like all the rest. And then what? You'll just be alone again," the hazel eyed woman had a knowing tone to her voice, truly believing what she was saying no matter how much Nina spoke the contrary. "You just come by it naturally, you're meant to be alone."
"I'm as alone as I make myself be. But I've learned now I can trust people, and I have the most amazing chosen family anyone could ask for. Ryan and I are more sisters than we ever were before, and she's actually proud of me and happy for me, unlike my own mother. And with the kindest in-laws I could ask for who always include me and make me feel loved and cherished and welcomed. When I'm with these people, I'm home, I belong for the first time in my life," Nina tried to convince her. 
"I once thought the same thing. And then I had you, and everything changed. Then my only people I could count on was the mother that once drove me crazy and your adopted sisters. Just watch, you think this honeymoon phase lasts, but it never does-" Before she could hear anything else, Nina got up from her seat and went to the front door, opening it and standing there waiting. "Get out."
"Afraid to hear the truth?" Her mother asked her.
"Tired of you trying to cut me off from people so I'll come crawling back to you. If you can't accept my happiness, if you only want to tie me to you instead of let me be free with the people who actually let me be me, then you can get out of my house now," Nina responded.
The ginger woman only shook her head at first before finally getting up, walking over and closing the door Nina had been holding open. The mother gently took her daughter's face in her hands and looked deep in her eyes before kissing her forehead. "Don't you see this is the problem? You never listen. You just hide in your own little fantasy until someone has to bring you back to Earth somehow. This is how you used to piss off your father and got your things smashed and thrown out, don't you remember? Yet you still haven't learned when to just wait and listen, have you?" Nina did her best to back away, her back hitting the wall and trapping her with her mother in a rather claustrophobic way. Once again memories flooded her too fast to process, images of holes punched into walls and being locked in her bedroom running passed her eyes even if they weren't actually happening. Unintentionally, a noise left her noise that was a cross between a whine and a click in her throat, a subconscious response to the anxiety threatening to claw at her throat and mind. A noise she had been trained to make.
"I believe she told you to get out." The familiar voice was quite firm, belonging to the one who taught her to make that noise when she needed help. As some moods made Nina feel rather non-verbal, especially when she was over-stimulated by her surroundings, her and Kendall had worked out some small animal noises to help her communicate as best as she could. And that whine in particular was a clear please help me. And no matter the circumstance, when Kendall heard that noise his alpha instinct would always kick in. 
At first the ginger woman was still rather reluctant to leave, intending to keep her promise about not leaving or letting her daughter go now. Kendall gave a small nod to Nina, a warning to cover her ears as his intention was not to startle her, she was just poorly placed in the situation and regretfully had to go through this. The alpha could try his best to make it easier on her though. The leopard girl covered her ears and closed her eyes as tight as she could manage, missing the way her fiance seemed to grow an inch or two by standing fully straight, his green irises expanding as they did when he was close to his leopard form. "GET OUT." This time when the door was opened, the red head would not be closing it again. 
Ryan found herself the only one in the kitchen by this point, the shout of his older brother drawing Lincoln to come handle the situation as well. Ryan didn't know quite what happened by that point, just wanting to make sure nothing got broken as Lincoln had a tendency to break things when angry enough, but the usual smashing she would expect never came. And when she came out of the kitchen finally, she found the hazel eyed woman gone, the only trace of her being how Nina clung to her fiance on the couch, face buried in his neck and her body shaking as Kendall did his best to comfort her. He held her close to him, rubbing her back and whispering in her ear reassurements.  A quick scan of the room showed nothing was broken, Lincoln had actually kept his head for once through this, and instead he was now sitting besides his brother and girlfriend, watching over her carefully. Maybe he finally realized how the violence would just scare Nina more, Ryan thought to herself, though she never voiced the idea. 
On Kendall's lap, Nina did her best to hold back just how shaken she was at remembering everything. All of why she left in the first place. It was over, so what would crying do by now? Almost as if hearing her thoughts, Kendall kissed the top of her head and once more went to whisper in her ear. "It's okay if you need to cry Kitten. You can let it out." Once again what he heard broke his heart, a pained sob escaping her. "She had no right to say any of that to you. You're not hurting anyway, you're never going to break my heart Nina. And you especially didn't cause any of what your parents did to you. You didn't deserve any of that. You deserve how happy you are, and we're plenty proud of you and happy to have you."
When the leopard girl had finally calmed down enough to finally look up at him, Kendall softly kissed various parts of her face before going to kiss her lips. He knew it was something that would help cheer her up, as well as it was something she would do for him when he felt down, and she could use whatever she needed to make her day a bit better. Lincoln got up momentarily, going up towards the bedroom then coming back shortly with an old quilt to wrap around her. He also managed to get a bottle of water, perhaps one of the ones Nina always kept by the bed since she got quite dehydrated in her sleep, and gave it to her so she could help replenish the water she lost to crying. By the time he sat back down next to the two still on the couch, the leopard girl had gone to hold his hand and tried to keep Lincoln from getting up again. She really wanted both of them there at the moment as she found herself to be hurting. "Please stay." Just how tiny her voice was won him over were he to have had any intentions of getting up one more time. "Just for you princess," he assured her, kissing her softly and staying as close as she wanted him to be with her and Kendall.
Eventually the two men had managed to get the young woman to the bedroom they had come accustomed to all sharing, Kendall closest to the far while while Lincoln remained nearest the door that had been shut once everyone needed was inside. Between them was small Nina, no longer crying now but still rather silent with hands kept tight on whichever part of her boys she was given access to. It was like that she found herself sleeping as well, holding close the same lovers who held her as tightly as she needed to be held. While the older brother was a pillow for her as he laid on his back, arm wrapped around her shoulders with an unmatched need to comfort, the younger brother slept pressed to her back as he always did, his own arm holding her waist in a ferocious protectiveness that, while not blatantly stated, was still rolling through his veins as blood could no longer manage to keep pace with in the moment. Normally this sort of ferocity would go one of two ways for the young woman, scare her beyond what others may realize or seduce her in the pure, raw dominance of it, most typically being the latter when it would come to Lincoln it seemed, for once it was instead exactly as she needed to just feel normal for a moment. Someone who could be held dear as she wanted to be protected.
Once morning showed its first rays of light, Nina finally began to stir. She felt more herself now, though a cloud seemed to still hang low in her mind trying to darken her view of the world around her. A look in the mirror was probably the worst idea when this cloud was so low over her, for while she could hold the appearance of being better now, this cloud reminded her of every insecurity she has had through her short lifetime. The low hanging fat that was quite minimized now as she was older in her abdominal area, the self-inflicted scars across normally hidden areas of her limbs which by now were faded to near obscurity. Sure, by now, she appeared perfectly fine and recovered from what once troubled her mind, but some days it took much more than putting on the appearance to get through the true act of being fine. So instead she looked to the boys sleeping of either side of her rather than the mirror, moving hair out of their faces and, rather than being reminded of the things that haunted her, found herself smiling over the ones that supported her as she supported them. She gave chaste kisses to parts of their faces that were easiest to reach, for the front sleeping Lincoln a press to the cheek while to the back sleeping Kendall a momentary peck to the lips. 
She hadn't meant to fall asleep in her clothing from the day before, but still she ended up doing so and found herself needing to change to the more comfortable typical sleeping attire. It was after this she finally made her way to the kitchen, making herself a bowl of cereal and some coffee. She was nowhere near the cook her fiance could be. He seemed to be a natural chef, whereas if left to cook on her own Nina was more a master of boxed macaroni and cheese or dollar noodles that claimed to be "ramen noodles". So, when she was awake first and not wanting something microwaved to start her day with, cereal was typically the answer. Watching over the rising sun from the window, she decided to for once eat on her front porch, wishing to enjoy the warm, suburban desert air after a night of horrible emotions. While the coffee pot still brewed, the leopard girl went to open the front door of the house where she was greeted with a rather surprising sight. Leaned against the space of wall next to the door despite the numerous outdoor chairs that were on the cement porch was what seemed to be a sleeping Arthur. The awning had so far protected him from the sunrise, but Nina knew that the protection would not work for long. For now setting the less important cereal on a nearby side table, the leopard girl stepped onto the porch and kneeled in front of the older man. He seemed to be alone, suspicious but still a momentary blessing in her eyes for what the other option could be, but that was where the blessings seemed to end as she noticed how gaunt and starving the poor man seemed to still look. With gentle, persistent prodding, she managed to wake the tired vampire, coaxing him inside.
The man with rather shocking blue eyes needed some help to the couch, immediately laying down on it and curling up in what seemed to be in a way to try and be small, closing those once shinning eyes as he held himself. The younger, grey eyed woman went to the fridge and got out a bag of blood from one of the drawers as she had a few days prior for the surprise guest. Though this time didn't require the hassle of hiding it in baked goods, this time rather pouring it into a glass and bringing it out to the resting man. "I know it isn't as good as fresh blood, but it's better than nothing I hope." For a moment, Arthur's blue eyes almost shined as they had once years ago,a quiet thank you leaving his lips before they began to consume the blood from the glass he now held.
The glass was empty quicker than expected, finding itself drained and left on the coffee table. Drops of red tinted spots of it, reflecting onto the wood surface it rested on and staring back at Nina in a way that should bother her. When had she become so desensitized? Was her world officially so bizarre that macabre feasts were now not even the blink of an eye to her? But then she remembered how, from a young age, she was already so used to a predatory mindset. Blood was just a side effect of that mindset, and it never was something to bother her. At one time maybe a vampire would though, as they were natural enemies to shapeshifters. Their dead auras were so off-putting to the living, especially to animal senses who were much stronger than a human's own. And animal blood was what ran through her veins, mixed with her own long before she ever had a choice in whether it would become a part of who she was or not. Nina almost went to get up and get another bag of blood to fill the glass once more when she caught Arthur moving out of the corner of her eye. She was rather confused by it, seeing as he was removing his shirt as she discovered, until she saw what had been left underneath. Across his rib-cage area were fading bruises, by now just splashes of red and yellow that were clearly days old. Around them were what looked to be scratches, nail tracks and parts of his skin looking as if those same nails had just dug in, crescent moon shapes left to remain.
It took a moment for Nina to be able to look away from the markings, her heart broken that such a fate would come to anyone she held dear, and even looked up to once many moon ago. His music was how she met Ryan, who led to the older woman introducing her to who was now the loves of her life, and now here Arthur was hurt and broken on her couch. She looked up just long enough to realize something she hadn't noticed before, leftover nail marks on the cheek she hadn't fully seen yet. He managed to look just away enough for her to miss the faint red lines until he was finally looking into her eyes. Were those eyes searching for a reaction, shaking in how they waited for what may come? Or were they so unsettled because it was the only way he was able to call for help anymore? Silently hoping someone may finally understand the Hell he's found himself living in with what seemed to be no exit door to go through now. Nina slowly brought a hand to run along the scratches on his cheek, making sure that he had a chance to back away if he wanted to before she ran her thumb gently over the area. They seemed still rather fresh, newer than the ones on his torso anyway, and she looked at him with a bleeding heart, grey irises asking a question she never wanted to have to say out loud. "Arthur..."
"That's from last night," the older vampire told her, looking away again so she would have to pull her hand back. "Her family was over, maybe I did something wrong, or said something wrong, I don't even know what it was I did this time, and she just switched so quickly. And then her sister laughed, and then her parents laughed. Oh look at him, tears in his eyes over a playful love slap. What a little bitch. I don't even know what I did this time."
"You didn't do anything. There is nothing you could have done to have warranted that Arthur. No one has the right to hurt you like that," the leopard girl tried to assure him, placing a hand over one of his.
"The first time she got like this, I was just so shocked I had no idea what to do. We were fighting then, after we had gotten married. She started throwing things at first, threatening to leave until finally she just hit me directly. I couldn't even believe she did it. We had argued before obviously, and she would always say she thought I just needed to be shown her side, how I was always just making her stuck between a rock and a hard place, even when I had barely even had a chance to say anything against her. And then she would just cry and cry and I wanted to help her so bad. I couldn't stand to see the woman I loved cry anymore, so I would always then just pick her up and hold her until we forgot what it was even all about. It just seemed to escalate from there though. I caught her cheating... repeatedly... It was always how I drove her to it. I left her alone so much, I wasn't enough for her if I wasn't around or I was apparently harassing her, and she would look for comfort because of just how bad she told me I made her feel. Then the next day after we would fight, she would be there telling me she didn't deserve how good I was to her, tell me I was perfect and how she was nothing without me," the more he explained to her, the more Nina found herself finding a familiarity in his story. Was she not just sobbing on Kendall and Lincoln the night before over pretty much the same situation? But finding she understood his pain was not any less heartbreaking to her. If anything, it just made the pain so much worse.
"And then she would tell you she would die without you, wouldn't she? Show you things that would remind you how happy you once were together and say how without the happiness you brought her then, she would just end it all?" She couldn't even look at the blue eyed man when she asked this, casting her gaze to the side as she remembered what Celia had said, as well as what had been repeated to her over and over again through her life. Without you I would just kill myself.
"Yeah. When things got physical, it was always something or another she would say was the cause. First it was the medication she was on, then it was because she was quitting cigarettes making her moody. Or she was too drunk to stop herself. But then she cut everything out and she changed her stories. Stressed about family, or I was driving her to do it with whatever I was doing at the time. I made her do whatever it was because I just needed to be shown what I did to her, I needed to just be corrected. Then she wanted a baby, but that only seemed to make it worse. Everything failed it seemed, it never worked or the egg just wouldn't latch and she would be angry about that. And then we would fight again, and that's when she decided blood was toxic. She decided one day blood had to be the reason she wasn't getting pregnant. It was making our bodies too toxic to conceive or something like that," the more he explained, the more withdrawn Arthur seemed. 
Once again, before Nina could move to get up and refill the glass, the vampire moved in a way that caught her attention. Although rather than go to put his shirt back on, as she secretly hoped for as she couldn't bring herself to look at the bruising and scratches anymore, the older man instead closed his eyes and rested his head on her shoulder, hiding whatever expression was now on his face as he seemed to just break against her. The sounds of his sobbing now echoed through the room as hers had only hours previously, the mirrored situation not escaping her mind to compare, as she hesitantly rubbed his back. She was not the most qualified to work with crying people, finding herself typically clamming up and being a rather stiff source of comfort as she would be unable to say what would apparently count as helpful. She wished she could be more help, but she was never good with anyone as they cried. But she was more than willing to be the shoulder he needed for now, going from patting his back to gently running her fingers through his hair while arms found a temporary spot around her waist to lock her in her spot. It wasn't until finally one of her housemates woke up and walked by enough to see her, a rather groggy Kendall noticing the predicament she was in as well as the forgotten bowl of cereal and used glass of blood that she found a bit of relief from her awkward demeanor. "Coffee," her fiance nodded to her before going into the kitchen, making her a cup of coffee from what was previously brewed, as well as one of the last two blood bags they now had in their fridge.
"Hey, Arthur, you look like you need another drink," the leopard man commented as he came back, setting Nina's coffee on the table and snipping the corner off of the bag and putting it in the glass.
"Huh? Oh, thanks." The oldest in the house finally pulled away from the youngest one, eyes a puffy red as he went back to the drink and shifted further away from the woman now. His gaze found itself downcast, not wanting to face someone else without being pulled back together again but rather preferring his eyes stay on the glass in his lap.
"No problem man," Kendall assured him, sitting on the other side of the couch and pulling his love into his lap, picking up her coffee again to hand to her. "Are you feeling any better this morning my love? Last night I know was rough for you." A soft kiss was pressed to her temple.
"Did something happen last night?" Arthur inquired before Nina could give her answer, brows furrowing a bit in concern.
"Just, my mom apparently looked for me when I never told her where I lived, and she ended up finding me and coming last night. It didn't go well though and Kendall had to scare her off for me," Nina told him, feeling a bit bad about having to admit it when he had just finished crying on her over his own abuse.
"That's horrible. I guess I came at a bad time then, sorry about that-" Now it was Nina's turn to stop Arthur from speaking as she gave a small wave. "You did nothing wrong Arthur. Getting away from the person hurting you and making your life Hell will never be a bad thing to do, and you are always welcome in our home. Are you going to go back there?"
There was hesitation before Arthur would give his answer, trying to think through his options before saying anything for sure. "I'll have to eventually for some of my things. She's gone back with her parents though to spend time with them though, so I have time before she even notices that I'm gone. I just need to find somewhere to go to until then."
"As I said, you're always welcome here Arthur. Lincoln has been staying in my room lately, so maybe you can sleep in there if he's okay with it. And if not the couch pulls out into a bed. I can help you get your stuff while Celia is gone and you can stay here until you can find a place of your own," the leopard girl offered to him.
"You're way too kind Nina. There aren't many who would offer up their own home like you are. If I'm going to be in the way I can try to find something else, you don't have to take me in," the vampire reminded her, a part of him feeling a little guilty to be taking up anyone's space now. He had originally just wanted to vent to someone, and here he was being offered somewhere to recover and get away from the Hell he found himself in.
"I know I don't. But that doesn't mean I won't. This is your chance to finally be okay Arthur, I won't let anything happen to you here. You're a friend of mine, you're a good friend to the men I love, and that makes you a part of my pack. And I always take care of those I consider part of my pack as much as I can," she assured him, giving a friendly smile as she finally got to take a drink of the coffee she had been wanting to have the whole morning. 
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soyoureviewhiphoptoo · 7 years ago
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4 of Rap’s Most Overrated Diss Tracks
1. 2Pac and Friends Take Shots at Notorious B.I.G. and Bad Boy Ent.
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2Pac Featuring The Outlawz- Hit ‘Em Up Released: June 4, 1996 Label: Death Row Records and Interscope Records
That's why I fucked yo' bitch, you fat motherfucker!
The harsh and brutal opening line of one of the most iconic diss tracks ever released. In November 1994, months before he would be sentenced for his time in prison, 2Pac was ambushed and robbed at Quad Recording Studios in New York, leaving him with multiple gunshot wounds. Notorious B.I.G. and his team were in the studio during the altercation and soon thereafter, Biggie would release the single Who Shot Ya. While Biggie would go on to claim that the track was written months before the shooting and was in no way a diss towards his West-Coast counterpart, 2Pac would take massive offence from this song, believing he was set up. Upon his eventual release from prison, 2Pac would join forces with his group The Outlawz to record his response to the Biggie track, taking aim at Biggie, Puff Daddy, Lil Kim and Junior M.A.F.I.A. of Bad Boy Entertainment.
As I mentioned earlier, Hit ‘Em Up has been regarded as one of the most iconic diss tracks ever released; Pac would send brutal shots regarding the rumoured infidelity of Biggie’s wife, Faith Evans, Biggie copying Pac’s style and flow, reminding him of his humble beginnings and insulting his label mates. The song has one of the best hooks for a diss track and the energy exuded from the slow beat and Pac’s ferocious vocals would imply this song deserves the ratings it has received.
First off, fuck yo' bitch and the clique you claim Westside when we ride, come equipped with game You claim to be a player, but I fucked your wife We bust on Bad Boys, niggas fucked for life Plus, Puffy tryna see me, weak hearts I rip Biggie Smalls and Junior M.A.F.I.A. is some mark-ass bitches
Here is the problem with this track that people often overlook; Hit ‘Em Up would have served as a fitting solo track with Pac’s verses and his monologued outro but the song has three more verses from Outlaw members E.D.I Mean, Kadafi and Hussien Fatal. While the three young rappers are able to just about come near to Pac’s energy, ultimately, the Outlawz do not actually add to the song. Listen to this track enough times and you’ll realise that Pac says everything there was to say about Bad Boy and the Outlawz are just echoing his words. Not adding any pieces of new information or saying an overly unique or hurtful diss, just sticking with anything Pac said and making the song longer than it needed to be. If this song was a reply to Who Shot Ya, a Notorious B.I.G. single with no features, why clog your response with guest verses?
More isn’t always better.
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2. Drake goes Back to Back, Fans helps him defeat Meek
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Drake- Back to Back Released: July 29, 2015 Label: Cash Money Records, Young Money, Republic Records & OVO Sound Radio
Following a Twitter rant that resulted in Meek Mill accusing Drake of not writing his own songs, Drake fired back with the calm-mannered yet boring diss, Charged Up. After four days without a reply from the Dreamchaser camp, the Toronto M.C. fired the next shot with the relatively better diss, Back to Back. The song gained a grand ovation, winning over the internet. The song would go on to be multi-platinum and the first ever diss track to be nominated for a Grammy.
Here’s the thing about Drake’s Back to Back, it was hardly a diss track, to begin with. Rather than follow the traditional route, Drake decided to follow the idea of “Not releasing direct diss tracks but releasing hit songs and diss you on them”. While the first song was far from exciting, Drake would take numerous shots at the credibility of Meek Mill on Charged Up. On Back to Back, however, the main diss in the long verse was:
This for y'all that think that I don't write enough They just mad ‘cause I got the Midas touch You love her, then you gotta give the world to her Is that a world tour or your girl's tour? I know that you gotta be a thug for her This ain't what she meant when she told you to open up more Yeah, trigger fingers turn to Twitter fingers Yeah, you gettin' bodied by a singin' nigga I'm not the type of nigga that'll type to niggas And shout-out to all my boss bitches wifin' niggas
Here, Drake only briefly mentions the ghostwriting allegations while deciding to turn the beef towards Meek’s then-girlfriend and Young Money labelmate, Nicki Minaj, questioning Meek’s “gangsta” and pointing out he is not as famous or successful as Nicki or himself. Aside from being perceived as a low blow to involve a man’s girlfriend to a situation that doesn’t involve her, these lines aren’t necessarily disses but quotable cheap shots that people can sing along to. You’re not necessarily hurting anyone when you say lines that are reminiscent to playground insults on a hot beat however they will bruise your pride when the song begins to get played everywhere multiple times.
Sure, this worked for Drake but there are two reasons why he was able to overcome Meek Mill.
1.      Meek released a lukewarm response. Wanna Know, released the day after Back to Back, did not match the hyped-up vibe that Drake created and Meek did not bring his usual aggressive and loud energy to the track despite sampling Quentin Miller’s reference track for Drake’s hit song Know Yourself and sending far more scathing shots at Drake (And sampling the Undertaker’s iconic theme song).
2.      The people were on Drake’s side and, most importantly, the people were against Meek. Over the course of that week, millions of memes relating to the beef were created, with Meek slander being the theme. Drake would go on to project many of these memes on a screen during his Back to Back performance at OVO Fest, which spelt the end of the beef.
If the release of Back to Back taught me anything, it is that Drake’s fanbase is can turn a mediocre “diss” song into the song of the summer and the cause of a meteoric rise.
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3. Kendrick “Diss” Puts Rap on Notice
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Big Sean Featuring Kendrick Lamar and Jay Electronica- Control Released: August 12, 2013 Label: UMG Recordings, Inc., G.O.O.D. Music & Def Jam Recordings
During the 2013 roll-out for his second studio album, Hall of Fame, Big Sean would release the single Control. Featuring fellow rappers Kendrick Lamar and Jay Electronica, the Sean single delivered three impressive rap verses. While the song was unable to be added to the album due to a sample not being cleared on time, the song would go on to gain critical acclaim and becoming one of the most notable songs in Big Sean’s discography. Mind you, that is not thanks to Sean by any means. It would be Kendrick’s verse that would send shockwaves throughout the rap industry.
With a guest verse that hijacked the shine of his fellow artists and a stupendous lyrical display that will leave you catching your breath, Kendrick spat, possibly, the best rap verse of his career.  What is odd about this verse is whenever it is discussed by critics and major publications, it is often referred to as a diss verse. When I first heard this verse five years ago, this sentiment confused me and it still leaves me scratching my head today. The very reason why this verse is an “overrated diss” is that it was incorrectly labelled as a diss, to begin with. In this very long rap verse, there are certain bars that grabbed the most attention and generated the most reaction.
I'm Makaveli's offspring, I'm the King of New York King of the Coast; one hand, I juggle 'em both
With these lines, Kendrick claims he is the king of both California and New York, two of the spiritual homes of hip-hop. The latter claim led to a response from many New York rappers, most notably Joel Ortiz, Joe Budden, Cassidy and a surprisingly harsh diss track from Papoose. While it makes sense that rappers will act as gatekeepers for their city against the outsider with boisterous claims, it also seems odd that certain rappers took lines, that were nothing more than Kendrick bragging and displaying his confidence, like this to heart (especially Papoose).
I'm usually homeboys with the same niggas I'm rhymin' with But this is hip-hop, and them niggas should know what time it is And that goes for Jermaine Cole, Big K.R.I.T., Wale Pusha T, Meek Millz, A$AP Rocky, Drake Big Sean, Jay Electron', Tyler, Mac Miller I got love for you all, but I'm tryna murder you niggas Tryna make sure your core fans never heard of you niggas They don't wanna hear not one more noun or verb from you niggas
This is a section of the verse I remember the most. In a fashion that would make The Game proud, Kendrick would name drop many prominent rappers and while saying he respects them all, he says he plans to outdo them all and surpass them. I remember a very specific out roar towards this particular section, with many people feeling this was a diss towards the individuals Kendrick named. This, of course, is incorrect. At this time, Kendrick had worked with all of the rappers he mentioned, with the exception of Tyler, The Creator. He even states he is friends with all of them, making it clear to me that he was playing it safe with this section by naming people that may not have a negative reaction, generate a sense of competition and most importantly, generate a big enough reaction from the fans. With the exception of Nicki Minaj, 2 Chainz, Rick Ross and the T.D.E roster, all Kendrick did was name drop all of the rappers who had the most mainstream appeal in 2013.
Kendrick might have spat an amazing verse that brought back a sense of competition to hip-hop but he set a statement, not release a diss.
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4. Remy Ma hands Nicki Minaj and herself an L
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Remy Ma- shETHER Released: February 25, 2017 Label: Empire Distribution
Unlike all of the feuds on this list, the tension between Remy Ma and Nicki Minaj has been well-documented for many years. Dating back to 2007, Remy Ma, who was becoming a fan of the young Nicki Minaj, perceived the opening lines of Nicki’s single “Dirty Money” as a diss towards her. Despite being a belief she maintained for a few years, Remy had a change of heart upon her 2014 release from prison. Remy and Nicki would publicly champion each other and show each other love through tweets and interviews. All of this would come to a halt when Remy would release an N.Y. State of Mind freestyle where it was speculated that she sent shots towards Nicki Minaj. Since the release of this freestyle, Nicki would send shots on featured verses on Gucci Mane’s Make Love and Jason Derulo’s Swalla. At this point, Remy was given the excuse to release a 7-minute freestyle over Nas’ iconic diss track called shETHER.
Off the bat, the very first issue Remy encounters with this song is the song she chose. To rap on the beat of one of the greatest diss tracks ever recorded immediately puts her remix under a magnifying glass. The song was destined to fall from the resulting high expectations despite Remy superb rapping ability and cypher delivery style. With seven minutes of straight bars, there are several instances of memorable bars, discrediting Nicki’s character, insulting her surgically enhanced body, her label situation, her relationship with her brother and instances where Remy just goes on spectacular lyrical runs.
And I got a few words for the moms of the young Barbz Guess who supports a child molester? Nicki Minaj You paid for your brother’s wedding? That’s hella foul How you spendin' money to support a pedophile? He a walkin' dead man, sendin' threats to him I guess that’s why they call you Barbie, you was next to Ken Talkin’ about your money long and your foreign sick Why you ain’t help your bro hide his cum from forensics?
The next issue (and possibly the biggest) was the legitimacy of the lyrics. In rap beef, it is not uncalled of that rappers tend to stretch the truth or just lie in a few bars on their diss songs (After all, the opening line of Hit ‘Em Up has since been disproved) however, there are several instances in shETHER where Remy makes claims and allegations towards Nicki. During this song, Remy accused Nicki of: sleeping around with multiple artists including Drake, Lil Wayne, Gucci Mane, Ebro Darden & Trey Songz, having punctured ass implants for three months & refusing sex with her then-boyfriend Meek Mill, being addicted to cocaine & ecstasy, having untreated gonorrhoea and signing a 360-record deal to Young Money. Mind you, all of the bars relating to these topics were shocking and added to the song when it was first released, however, since then, a lot of the claims that built up a majority of the song were apparently disproved. With many of the men, Remy named as Nicki’s past lovers, denying the allegations, Meek denying talking to Remy about Nicki’s punctured implants and learning Nicki was not signed to a 360 from a simple Google search deflated the validity of shETHER overall.
Remy would go on to an attempt to go “back to back” on Nicki by releasing the significantly weaker diss track Another One, further deflating the effect of shETHER. Nicki would release the even weaker response; the Drake and Lil Wayne assisted No Frauds. While there would be later exchanges between the two, including Nicki spitting responses on the 2Chainz’s Realize and DJ Khaled’s Can’t Even Lie, the battle was over by then and it was unanimously decided that Nicki lost. While this would be nice under regular circumstances, Remy did not necessarily walk away from this beef in complete victory. shETHER has since been banned from radio and streaming services due to Remy not gaining rights to use the Ether beat, her credibility has been brought into question due to her many allegations and Remy’s eagerness in the battle caused her to disrupt her own momentum.
Nicki Minaj might have lost this battle but Remy Ma wasn’t really a winner in the end.
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braindamageforbeginners · 7 years ago
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Ice Floes
Quickly, before we begin: 1. this is a mostly-true anecdote that ties together several different, ideas I’ve had in the last two-ish days, including... 2. There are no ice floes here, it’s a reference to senecide in certain cultures (rarely practiced in Norhern Tribes and never practiced in the usual, “Send Grandma floating away on a chunk of ice!” way).
So, the first concept idea for this pieces my younger brother, Andy, who is working this summer s a fire-spotter in Idaho and/or Montana (he’s stationed in a national park that covers really big portions of both states). This is a cool, Norman Maclean manly-man style job for a grad student, and we were all fairly certain Andy would like his job (which, as a per-diem, is hard to beat, I’ll admit), and we’d all love to drop in and say hello, except I’m in very specific chemo ward 3-4 times a month (and that last week when I don’t have chemo, I still have to get them to draw my blood and run labs), so my schedule’s a little hard to work. And I started joking that, with our family’s luck, Andy would wind up in someplace with a name like ‘Dead Man’s Gulch” or “Rattleasnake Ridge” (remember that line) that we’d just as soon not bother with. Well, parents won’t be discouraged, so Dad’s thinking he might scratch off a bucket list item AND visit Andy... by backpacking to him (or near him). Which, even though he’s a nut for the treadmill, is not exactly the first phyisical task you’d nominate Dad for if you saw him in person. However, he’s decided to start training to address that very problem. Also, Andy’s fire station is somewhere in the Rattlesnake Mountains. I’m absolutely not making that up, Also, since my more-twisted jokes are apparently reshaping reality in their wake, I’d like to joke that I’ll be a multi-gabillionaire in a few years after someone reclassifies these scribbles as science-fiction.
One of the issues/questions I’m faced with all the time (aside from, “Why did we catch you tying truck nuts to Deputy Pierson’s police vehicle*?”) is how much of my time I really do devote to staying healthy and managing your disease/prescriptions/insurance/appointments. The short answer is, almost all of it. I know I spent a post last week essentially boasting how healthy I was, apart from having Stage IV cancer. What’s important is to know is that I take a weird sort of pride in that, and, as Dad has pointed out, in most cancer cases, the death/survival rate refers to elderly people who have other diseases or health issues in addition to cancer; he hasn’t heard of patients who get chemotherapy, then go for a 3-hour leg day the next day (I’d point out that having a pediatric cancer - as I did, sort of (another brain tumor) has serious long-term health implications for survivors, and now that I’m having toxic sludge pumped through me on  regular basis has a few more long-term associated-problems that I’d like to avoid. The point is, it is slowly starting to dawn on me that he might have a point, and I’m definitely doubling down on that bet, too. Which Dad knows, and knows I’ll be up for any dangerous stunt, as long as there’s even a minor probability of increased healthfulness. Which is why Dad and my step-mom invited me on Dad’s inaugural training hike; The Path of Pain (that’s not the official name, but it’s more accurate than the real thing). Now, bit of context; it’s not true that the Inuit would kill people by putting them on an ice flow and then sending them off. What is accurate - from my sources  - is that in times of famine, some Northern tribes (probably including the Inuit) would suddenly decamp in the middle of the night without telling Grandma and Grandpa. effectively leaving them to the mercy of the elements and luck/fate (to be fair, if the grandparents made it to the new camp, they were honored and informed of all future camp locations). So, I was aware of this when the following conversation occurred: SELF: This hike isn’t one of those obscure traditions where you’re going to leave the sick, infirm, and old - the societal deadwood, if you will - out in the elements to save the rest from starvation or something, is it? DAD: No. Why, are you worried we’d leave you behind? SELF: Nope, just stating - on behalf of the ill - that I have absolutely no intention of being out-distanced by the old just so I can be dire wolf bait. Also, I am absolutely prepared to lie and cheat in the name of that goal. Other people probably have better father-son chats. Other people are boring.
So, before I start describing the festivities - which involve a severe and horrifying betrayal - I might need to describe my disability status, and disability as it stands. GBM diagnosis is an automatic disability according to social security, because of that whole “really, really, high fatality rate and incredibly fast progression (although I’m okay now - I think, maybe - when I fist met Radiation Oncologist, she said the tumor had a 20% growth rate, which means it would double in size every five or so days - I shudder to think how bad, how quickly that could’ve gotten). And, even though I’m mostly-fine at the moment, for the first two weeks after my neurosurgery, I couldn’t walk. This was because I was completely numb on my left side for that time. Remember the last time you got a cavity filled and the dentist used novocaine? Imagine that sensation - or lack thereof - throughout your left side. Walking was a problem because I had no idea where my feet were (unless I was looking). I’ve come a long, long way since then, but that was not even eight months ago (before anyone asks, after a rather dismal showing by the physical therapists at the hospital, I haven’t been doing anything special to recover, other than exercising like my life depends on it). So, testing it on a steep, dangerous slope seemed bright.
Those of you who’ve been hiking with me probably have no trouble picturing the image. I don’t exactly skip up paths, but I do power through them the same grim, pig-headed determination that I’m bringing to the rest of this damned disease. The peak in question is about 1500 ft - not a prize-winner, to be sure, but it’s not a bad accomplishment for someone who couldn’t even go 150 feet not too long ago.
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Now, with that smirking sense of triumph and gold star accomplishment, imagine my dismay when my wicked step-mother announced that this wasn’t the goal of the hike, the actual peak we were looking for was... 22 miles away. Okay, so that’s a bit of an exaggeration, the sum-total route was six miles, all on difficult trail. Greek heroes in classic tragedies endured less betrayal.
Now it would’ve been well within my power to request to go back; but, at that moment, I was feeling physically good at marching a mile in less than an hour, and that sensation somehow fused with testosterone, the Stetson, and male vanity, so, even though I knew at the time it might not be a good idea, all I could do was just grimly forge on with a few complaints. Good news, after a severe challenge to my dexterity, balance, and endurance, I’m still mostly-intact. I’m painfully sore from the waist down (I’ve said before, I’ll say it again, why isn’t codeine OTC in this Godforsaken country like it is in every civilized place on the planet). Left leg (and side) are not too bad, but the right foot’s killing me (I’ve tried stretching and rolling it on my yoga roller, which helped, but it’s still not up to snuff) - when I first got out of the car after arriving home (it’s a California thing; we drive for an hour to walk), I couldn’t, because that stupid right heel was too tender, And after all this, my reward to myself was an extra beer and another Tylenol. What have I become? Anyway, Dad and I have quietly agreed that sitting up and getting out of bed should definitely count as a trip to the gym (he’s also ordered a tree that’s sitting by the garage, so there’s a distinct possibility he has darker plans in store for me), and I’m personally going to try and keep my step-mother from any and all topographic maps. Still, you can’t outpace time and you’ll die if you ignore new constraints placed by disease, so I’ll look into some sort of walking stick (I spent the first five minutes back in the car slumped in the driver’s side because that’’s how achey/creeky I felt all on the left) before attempting anything that stupid and arduous again *I’ll credit Dad with this joke when he discovered that you can get a discount on these items if you order them online in bulk
#u
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revisitingstoneybrook · 5 years ago
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Mystery #19 Kristy and the Missing Fortune: Chapter 2
A typical Chapter 2. But this time, we have outfit descriptions yay!
On the way to Claudia's, Kristy, Charlie and Karen talk about baseball. Nothing too interesting. It takes Kristy two tries to slam the car door when she arrives. When I first read it, I thought it was because Karen was trying to climb out and join her at the BSC meeting. Kristy then heads into Claudia's house, leaving Charlie with the unfortunate task of driving home in the Junk Bucket, accompanied only by Karen. Poor guy.
Miss Punctuality (as she calls herself...showoff) arrives in Claudia's room at about 5:20. Claudia is on her bed, knitting a scarf. I remember Mimi taught Mary Anne how to knit, so she probably taught Claudia too. And since this is Claudia, the scarf's green, purple, and “a peculiar shade of orange.” Kristy says she doesn't want to tell her what she really thinks of it (that it's hideous), and instead tells her “It's dahling, dahling!”
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Oooh, Kristy is going to describe what everyone's wearing! I know the BSC fandom loves outfit descriptions!
So we can skip her History of the BSC lesson, except to mention that she says the club is really a business and she's the CEO (a term Watson the Millionaire taught her). And this little gem about the Kid-Kits: “Now, I don't want to sound conceited, so I won't tell you who came up with the idea for Kid-Kits and for all the other things that make the club run so smoothly. I'll just tell you that her initials are K.A.T.” Shut up, Kristy. So arrogant.
Ok, first outfit description is Claudia, told through the eyes of Kristy: “She was wearing this blue-and-green stripey shirt that was kind of tight and stretchy-looking. Over it she was wearing a really, really baggy pair of overalls. On her head was a floppy green hat, and on her feet were those big black clunky boots made by Doctor somebody.” LOL Doctor somebody. Though I do have to say, this is a relatively normal Claudia outfit. And so very 90s! Then again, this book was written in 1995.
And, in case you guys didn't know, Claudia isn't good at school. Not because she's a dumbass, it's “just that she cares more about making the world a more beautiful place than she does about telling the difference between fractions and adverbs.” Hello, backhanded compliment!
Blah blah...Claudia eats lots of junk food and is still zit-free and not fat, her parents think she's too old for Nancy Drew, she's Vice President...hey! Stacey's here! Kristy actually refers to Robert as “cool” instead of “He isn't a member of the BSC so he must be a jerkass.” Here's Kristy's attempt at describing Stacey's outfit:
“Platform shoes with really high cork soles (I'm sorry, but I just don't understand why somebody would want to totter around like that), black, lacy legging-things, and a blue dress that looked kind of like these pajamas I used to have when I was seven. Baby dolls, I think they're called.” Platform shoes and a babydoll dress. Again, so very 90s. Although I hope Stacey had a coat on because that doesn’t sound warm enough for February! And a babydoll nightgown on Miss Tomboy?
Stacey's sophisticated, her parents are divorced, she's from NYC. Kristy says she'd rather go to a baseball game than go shopping if she were Stacey. And this is another book where her diabetes is talked about without any “EWWWWWWW!” thrown in.
Mary Anne comes in wearing “a skirt that looked as if she'd ironed it five minutes ago, even though she'd had it on all day, a fresh white shirt, and a red sweater.” Basically, the same outfit Richard would have made her wear in the earlier books! Kristy even says she remembers the red sweater from that time. What was the point of the Emancipation of Mary Anne if she's still wearing the same clothes? Oh, and Kristy calls Mary Anne's haircut cool, even though she gave her the bitch treatment when she first got it. And you're not over your jealousy of Dawn, Kristy, so don't say you are. You're always holding a grudge against her for being Mary Anne's sister.
Love story between Richard and Sharon, no new stuff here. This is after Dawn came back from one of her many trips to California and Kristy says Jack's now married to Carol. And Dawn, Miss Individual, is wearing a “soft, fuzzy brown sweater that looked terrific with her long blonde hair, and cozy-looking white thermal leggings.” Whoa there, Kristy. Does Dawn fill out her sweater rather nicely too? And Kristy now likes Dawn because “she never hesitates to speak her mind.” So she can be a big pain in the neck like you?
Jessi and Mallory: “Jessi had on a black ballet-leotard top and jeans, with bulky red knitted leg warmers slouched around her ankles. Mal was wearing jeans, a purple sweater, and a big yellow button that said I Read Banned Books. What do their outfits tell about them?” Well, it tells that the ghostwriter (Ellen Miles) wasn't creative and decided to stick the two junior officers with outfits that scream out their lone personality traits! And does Jessi were jeans over a leotard to every damn meeting? I'd think leg warmers would be kind of hard to wear over jeans too, unless they were skinny jeans. And, by the way, Jessi's -oh wait, she's African-American this time.
Kristy announces “Order!” and, as if the magic word brings all the cult's club's clients to attention, the phone starts ringing and three jobs are lined up. Including a Mrs. Dodson who wants a plant-sitter while she and her family are in Florida. Plant-sitter, pet-sitter...do the people of Stoneybrook assume “Babysitters Club” means “we'll watch anything as long as you pay us our $1.50 an hour?”
Stacey freaks out, and Kristy says it's because she just had a pet-sitting job that was a little more than she expected...was that the goat? Because the only pet-sitting job I ever remember reading about was Kristy’s first BSC job watching the two dogs in Kristy’s Great Idea.
Anyway, Jessi unenthusiastically takes it because she's neighbors with Mrs. Dodson. She gets stuck with this all the time it seems.
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The topic switches to how the kids are all bored and cranky because it's too cold out for any of the trademark BSC Outdoor Activities. Mallory says her siblings are driving her nuts, but really, when aren't they driving her nuts? The Rodowskys are rowdy too, which you know means Jackie's probably broken a third of the things in their house. Kristy, All Knowing Master of Childcare, suggests they make a list of things to do to keep the kids occupied since tv is Satan’s Jukebox. Everyone starts calling out ideas I wonder what they came up with since it's February and way too cold to stage a carnival or talent show or garage sale or theme park. There totally should been a BSC theme park.
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allenmendezsr · 5 years ago
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Guitar On The Spot
New Post has been published on https://autotraffixpro.app/allenmendezsr/guitar-on-the-spot/
Guitar On The Spot
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 Buy Now
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    Have You Always Wanted To Play The Guitar, But Thought It Was Too Complicated?
I did too until I discovered this one simple secret. Once you know it playing the guitar will be instantly fun and easy, even if you’ve never played guitar before.
You’ll be able to make up your own songs, play along with any song and jam with other people.
The secret is knowing the key concept. Once you know it you’ll realize that you just use a simple code to play the guitar.
If you have the ambition to play the guitar but you’re having a hard time making sense of it, I feel your PAIN. I struggled for years until I finally discovered the key concept, then it all made sense.
“Guitar-on-the-spot.com made songwriting a reality for me”
“I didn’t realize that you could just pick any key and make up songs like that. I never made that ‘key’ connection. It made songwriting a reality for me.
“I just looked at Jesse’s Easy Chord Chart, picked the key of A, found three chords I liked and came up with a song.”
-Andrew Pierce, Greenville, SC
Listen to some of Andrew’s song It’s called “Advice From a Stranger”
“…it never gets boring.”
“Learning how to jam with songs inspired me to learn more cause it never gets boring.  You can jam along with any song.”
“I didn’t know there was a system for making songs.”
– Ida Fugli , Norway
“I thought the guitar was more complex than it is”
“I thought a guitar was more complex than it is, I didn’t realize you could play the same chord in many different places.”
– Ingeberg , Blue Lake, CA
“I don’t want to read a giant textbook. I just want to make up songs”
“My dad got me a guitar book and it told me to put my fingers here and strum. But then I was like, “how does this all go together? I just don’t get it.”  I don’t want to read a giant textbook, cause that’s like homework. I just want to automatically know how to make up songs and that’s what Jesse showed me how to do.”
-Robyn Ledenbach, Los Angeles , CA
Ever wonder how a band of musicians just spontaneously start making up music together and everything they play sounds good? I wondered that for a long time and then I discovered the secret I was missing.
Here’s the secret:
The Secret -The Key Concept- ********************** The majority of songs that you hear are in certain “keys”. ***********************
Hotel California Eagles Key of D Imagine John Lennon Key of C Nothing Else Matters Metallica Key of G When September Ends Green Day Key of G Hey Jude Beatles Key of F
When musicians jam together, they pick a key for their jam, like the key of C, or the key of D, and then start playing notes and chords in that key. As long as everyone is playing in the same key they will sound good together.
So ‘Hotel California’ by the Eagles (in the list above), mainly uses the notes and chords in the key of D. ‘Imagine‘ by John Lennon mainly uses the notes and chords in the key of C.
It’s not a rule that everyone must stay in the same key (there are no rules when creating music. It’s just a starting point to get everyone on the same page.
You can see and hear what I’m talking about below. There’s a chart with a bunch of diagrams and some yellow buttons. Each row of chords represents a key.
If you want to make up a song, all you do is pick one of those rows and play any chords in that row one after another. There are six main chords in any key (row) so you can roll a die to select the chords.
You can hear the chords in the key of C by clicking on any yellow buttons. If you’re completely new to guitar, click here to learn how to read chord diagrams in three simple steps.
Jesse’s Song Making Machine For Guitar
How to Make Up Your Own Songs On the Guitar
1 PICK a Key for Your Song!
2 ROLL a Die to Select Chords From that Key!
3 PLAY Your Song!
1 PICK a Key for Your Song! Pick a key for your song by choosing any row of chords below.
2 ROLL a Die to Select Chords From that Key Or just randomly pick any chords from that key.
To Make a Song While You Listen: Pick the key of C below and click any yellow buttons
Jesse’s Easy Chord Chart (The six main chords in three popular keys)
Clicking the buttons is a fun way to make up songs without even having to learn how to play the guitar. When I’m too lazy to pick up the guitar I just sit there and make up songs by clicking the buttons. And I actually find that it’s a great way for me to write songs. I think of parts I wouldn’t have thought of if I was playing the guitar.
On this website you’ll find out how easy it is to do things that you didn’t realize you could do and you’ll never want to put your guitar down.
I’ve included a bunch of free online guitar lessons that you can check out and if you feel like you want to know more you can download my free guitar e-book and subscribe to my free song making guitar lessons.
Or if you want to get straight to jamming all over the guitar neck using one simple code you can buy my e-book: Guitar On the Spot – Using the Code.
Use
Guitar On the Spot Using the Code $29.95 $14.95 click here to buy
Guitar music created using the code
Guitar On the Spot Using the Code
Do you have the ambition to play the guitar, but you can’t quite piece it all together?
In Using the Code you’ll discover the simple code that you can use to play the guitar.
You’ll use it to make up your own songs, solos and riffs up and down the guitar neck, jam with other people and figure out how to play simple songs, solos and riffs by ear.
You don’t need to read notes. You don’t need to read tab. You don’t need any experience.
I’ve spent the last four years trying to find ways to learn scales with chords, riffs, etc.  This hasn’t happened until I researched your work and purchased your book. 
You have taken difficult learning methods and composed your own more understandable learning techniques. 
It’s the best learning tool I have discovered in bookstores or the internet.
You have done wonders in helping people like me to better understand the guitar.
-Dave Stigen, Sparta, WI
“When I saw the book I thought oh it’s just another book. You know I’ve looked at a lot of books and they basically remind me that I need to practice various chord patterns and shapes and notes, it’s all about practice, but with Jesse’s book, it allowed me to practice in a more effective way that really benefited my guitar playing.”
“It brought all those things that I thought were vastly beyond my abilities down to my level of understanding so that I could apply them and improve my skills.”
“I think it’s a great way to start if you’ve never played because you can just use this whole formula that he’s developed to enhance you’re playing and to learn.”
-Jon B., MI
I give you an 8 week complete money back guarantee, so if you decide it’s not what you’re looking for I’ll give you your money back.
If you’ve been reading a bunch of books trying to “figure it out” (that’s what I did, it took me years) and you’re still confused, just check out the code and see if it clears anything up for you. You have nothing to lose.
So where do you start? That depends on what you want to do.
Note: There’s a section on this web site called Guitar Basics that shows you stuff like: the parts of the guitar, how to hold and strum a guitar and other information that you might want to refer to as you go along, especially if you’re a complete beginner.
There’s also a section that shows you How To Tune Your Guitar With or Without a Guitar Tuner to make sure that your guitar sounds good.
Click on the links below to get started:
Click here to make up your own songs.
Click here to play along with virtually any song by soloing on lead guitar.
Click here to learn how to jam with other people.
If you have any questions, comments, complaints or suddenly get lost because I wasn’t clear please help me help you and everybody else by emailing me at [email protected]
I look forward to hearing your songs!
Jesse Hunt
Need Help Finding What You’re Looking For?
Here’s an outline of the lessons on this website:
Copyright 2006 On the Spot Publishing. All Rights Reserved.
Click buttons to make up a song
Key of C See below to play it on your guitar
Bored in the Backyard?
“It was presented in such a way that it made me see the light down the tunnel.
It’s not this vast obscure mystery that that only a few musicians can grasp.”
-Jon B. MI
Tired of Singing A Cappella?
Looking for something to do at your next party?
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annahimmelbergcoms · 5 years ago
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Round One Reflection
First Speech: 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aDMGwIJ4WvA&list=UUmOnPIZHZr-DWvsle1khUzA&index=20
My first speech was a current event analysis on the Australian Wildfires. I used notecards when I was up in front of the class. I was really nervous before going up, but my anxiety seemed to cease as I started to talk. I liked how I had many different points about the topic. Professor Truch really enjoyed my transitions and thought they were clear and precise. I seemed to make the topic pretty universal to the audience which everybody appreciated. The audience said that my comments on climate change made it applicable to everyone. My group members commented on the fact that I seemed credible with my reference to being a California resident and addressing how similar fires happened in California years previously. Professor Truch said that my stance was kind of all over the place and that I need to keep a still posture when giving my next speeches. I talked pretty quick because I wanted to make sure I was in the time limit. Professor Truch said I needed to work on eye contact and making the speech less essay-like. Also, when watching the video, I could tell my voice is a bit shaky at times due to my anxiety. I want to make sure I do not rely on my flashcards next speech because I felt myself doing that this speech. I want to cut down my sentences and have more bullet points. Overall, it was not as bad as I expected being up there by myself. It went fairly well for my first speech. 
Second Speech: 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DLoBXdW-3sM
My second speech was a cultural artifact speech. I discussed my bracelet that was given to me by my grandma in France. I was a little less anxious this time because I knew what it was going to be like. I used notecards as help when I was up there instead of an outline like last speech. I found it easier to think off the top of my head instead of relying on the sentences I prepared beforehand. This speech felt much more conversational to me because it was mainly about my own life experience. I noticed how I kept better eye contact this time instead of consistently looking down at my flashcards. Professor Truch said that I improved on my eye contact and was able to scan the whole room instead of focusing on a single spot. I need to work on making my sentences shorter to make it more like a conversation. She said that I was able to convey how much my grandma means to me through my speech. I made it universal to the audience by saying how I hope everyone has a reminder like my bracelet of good life lessons. My group members said that my speech flowed nicely. They could tell my emotion behind my speech when I told some stories about my grandma because my face lit up. I want to work on keeping my audience intrigued because I got a little bored looking back on the youtube video. I do not use my hands a lot, and want to incorporate them into keeping the interest of my audience. The tone of my voice stays the same throughout most of my speech, so I want to work on adding inflection when needed. Overall, I think I improved on some critiques that I got from my first speech. 
Team Meeting 2: 
We met on Friday, January 31 with Professor Truch in her office. We discussed what our activity would be for our last group speech. Many ideas were thrown out, like doing a spin class or going zip lining, but we came to the conclusion to do a beach day at Avila. We decided to do it on Friday, February 7, but unfortunately it did not work out. Derek had work that he could not take off that day so we are going to do it on a different Friday now. We switched from a beach day to a drive in movie. It has been hard to figure out a day because everyone’s schedules are so busy. We will make sure to discuss this process when we present our group speech. 
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theclaravoyant · 8 years ago
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Pride prompt Coffee shop AU wheee Skye is kicked out by her foster parents and she runs into May who decides to take her home where she lives with her girlfriend Natasha
AN ~ lucky you get to jump the queue as it allows me to cover a few further up the list as well :D I hope you all like your found families with an extra helping of Gay™ this time of year! also tagging @mocking-point who prompted me something similar a while back in relation to this fic (tw: abuse), and @the-shy-and-anxious-fangirl, sorry I don’t write much Maria, but I put a little of her in here for you <3 I hope everyone enjoys!
main relationships: Skye & May, May x Nat. some background Skimmons.
Rated T mostly for swearing and some sexual references, but in this fic Skye is underage, so I won’t be writing any smut for it, though I am open to other prompts in this ‘verse.
Read on AO3 (~2000 words)
Where the Heart Is
There was always a place at Mack’s with her name on it, the manager had told Skye once. She’d been grateful for it at the time, but never more than in this moment, as she hissed and swore at her computer screen and its crappy wifi and everything that her day, so far, had been. She had a backpack, a duffel, and her computer bag surrounding her like rounded wagons; all her belongings in the world not even reaching the other side of the booth. She had a table at Mack’s with her name on it, and not much else except the tears running down her face.
“Shit- fuck – shit!” she muttered, wiping furiously at her tears and raking her hair back in one hand. Lincoln was out of town, Fitz and his mother barely had enough room for themselves, and Jemma was probably having her own ass handed to her right at this very moment. Mack had his daughter to think about, and Skye had way too much damage to bring herself to taint their lives with hers. She dragged her hands down her face, all the guilt and fear and panic combining into bitter-tasting, gut-wrenching shit.
“Can I help you?”
Skye was almost feeling too bad to be ashamed as she looked toward the source of the voice. It was an older woman, Chinese like her – and American-born too, by the sound of things. She looked… not emotionless, exactly, nor uncaring. A little bored, perhaps, and more than a shade judgemental, Skye would say, about the tirade of curses she’d been muttering for a while now. She took a moment to wonder why one of the staff hand’t asked her to be quiet or to leave, before she realised that the woman was still standing there.
“Sorry,” Skye said. “I got – I got kicked out again, that’s all, from this foster home place, and normally I’d crash at my friend Hunter’s but he’s got this new asshole landlord so I can only ask maybe one night out of him and everyone else I know can’t help so basically I’m fucked and I’m going to have to go back to St Agnes and then I’m really fucked and –“
The woman’s facial expression had barely changed. Maybe it wasn’t the swearing she’d hated, Skye speculated. Maybe it was just words.
“Sorry,” she said again. “Thanks for your concern but basically, unless you’ve got a spare room I can have for – well, pretty much free at this point – no, you can’t really help I don’t think.”
Skye turned her attention back to her computer screen, and to the swarm of Facebook messages that announced disappointment after disappointment. She closed the page and opened another blank one. There must be some kind of work-sharing, noticeboard exchange site that would help her out, surely. But what would she find there? Would she be willing to – what was it called, ‘bang for roof’? Was that even legal?
“Why’d you get kicked out?”
Skye jumped.
“Je-sus!” she exclaimed. The unflappable Asian woman was still there. Her odd, hard-to-read expression mad Skye want to spill all her secrets. She was homeless and crying in a diner anyway; what did she really have to lose?
“I had sex,” Skye confessed. “In their house. With a girl.” She shook her head. “To be honest, I’m not entirely sure which part bothered them more, but I know what I’ll be hearing from the nuns about.”
She rolled her eyes, and put a smile on it. The stranger’s face changed. It was hard to tell, moving from one emotion to another on such a small scale, but there was something in it, Skye was sure. And it was something that, bizarrely enough, made her feel hopeful.
The woman took a pen out of her pocket, reached for a napkin, and wrote down an address.
“My name is May,” she said, sliding the napkin to Skye. “There’s a room here, if you want it.”
Skye felt her stomach twist. Her instincts made her want to trust May, but they’d also let her fall in love with the last place she’d stayed, and she’d been all but chased out over the threshold just now. Clearly her radar was off. At least on www.4-let.com she knew she could trust that sketchy feeling.
But when she looked up to decline the offer, May was gone.
-
She wasn’t sure what made her keep the napkin. Desperate times called for desperate measures, she supposed. For whatever reason though, it wasn’t long before it was playing on her mind again. Skye lay wide-awake on Hunter’s couch, staring up at an old, familiar stain on the roof. She’d spent many a comforting night on this couch, but this one seemed to get longer and harder as it went on, as if the bed and the roof were screaming at her in a language she could barely understand, that tonight was the last night she would even have this.
Unless.
The hairs tingled on her arms. It almost felt like the napkin was whispering to her, keeping her up until, at some point, she must have drifted off because she did remember waking, and what was there to wake from if not sleep? She felt about as fresh as the towels in Hunter’s bathroom, but nevertheless, she did manage to drag herself to the kitchen for a coffee and a bagel. Munching on one of the small joys she still had left in life, Skye pulled the napkin out of yesterday’s jacket pocket. It no longer seemed so menacing in the daylight, but for that unsettling feeling of wanting to trust it that came over Skye again.
Desperate times, she reminded herself, and took a picture of the napkin with her phone. On the sheet itself, she scrawled:
In case I get murdered, I’m at this address.If you haven’t heard from me by 5pm, call me, then call police.
Being back at Agnes was better than being dead, after all. Skye capped the pen with a short, sharp, satisfied sigh. That was it now, she thought. She’d committed, to the visit at least. No backing out.
It was with this attitude – albeit a little battered from her shift at work – that Skye got off the bus later that afternoon in front of an old blue and white colonial, behind a low brick wall and a slightly scrappy garden. She let herself through the gate and took a deep breath as she approached the door. It certainly felt like finding a new home, but that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. And, she recalled, it was the middle of the afternoon. If May had any kind of regular adult life, there might not be anyone home after all.
Skye was contemplating bailing when a smiling face appeared from around the corner of the house. It was another woman, a little younger than May, with short flame-bright red hair. She carried a small potted plant in one hand and a trowel in the other, which Skye thought was a little odd given the state of the garden, and in the middle of the day, but it was not the strangest thing she’d ever seen. Certainly not as strange as giving a crying girl in a coffee shop your home address.
“Hi,” greeted the woman. “Ni hao.”
“Uh, hi,” Skye greeted eventually. “Sorry, I don’t – I don’t speak much Mandarin. I’m a California girl.”
“What brings you to these parts then, hm?” the woman asked.
“I’m looking for May?” Skye pulled out her phone and showed the woman the photo of the napkin. “She gave me this.”
The woman smiled fondly at it.
“Alright then. Come on in, I’ll give you the tour. I’m Natasha by the way. Call me Nat.”
“Skye.”
She followed Nat inside and was shown around; upstairs, downstairs, the bathrooms, the kitchen. When they got there, Nat offered her a drink, and started making coffee before she could answer.
“Any questions?”
Skye was distracted by the pictures on the fridge. This was definitely May’s house. In fact, judging by some of these photographs, it was May and Nat’s house. Skye smiled, feeling her heart clench at a particularly domestic shot of the two of them: a younger couple, in front of their home – sold! – and both of them with matching smiles, broad and toothy, and with their arms around each other, as if they’d been laughing before the shot or about to collapse into it. It felt like such a distant dream, that she could be that happy. It was heartening beyond what she could have imagined, to feel that happiness – and so much more – in the bones of this house.
Nat sidled up beside Skye, smiling to herself.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” Skye said, blushing a little as she turned away from the fridge and accepted the coffee Nat held out. Nat shrugged.
“We wouldn’t keep them on the fridge if we didn’t want visitors seeing,” she explained. “And it’s not like you wouldn’t figure it out, if you moved in. We like to get any awkward questions out of the way early.”
Skye nodded. “I can appreciate that.”
“May tells me that shouldn’t be a problem with you though, should it?” Nat raised an eyebrow, the implication so unavoidable that Skye blushed a little.
“I guess not,” she said. “As long as it doesn’t bother you?”
“Only after 9pm on a school night.”
Skye snorted.
“And you’re telling me I can stay here – for as long as I want – for free?”
“As far as we’re concerned? Absolutely. Legally? That’s a different matter. Fortunately, we have a lawyer coming to help us out. May’s with her now.”
“You knew I was coming?” Skye wondered. Nat smiled cryptically.
“May did.”
“How? Even I didn’t know I was coming ‘til this morning.”
“Yes you did,” Nat replied simply. Skye raised her eyebrows, but drank her coffee. It was a stranger day than she’d been expecting, but she knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.
There was a knock at the door and then it opened, and a tall dark-haired woman with a face that reminded Skye of an eagle marched through it enthusiastically, tailed by May, who was even smiling a little. She knew Skye would be here, and she knew that Skye would be impressed that she’d been anticipated.
“This is Maria,” Nat said, gesturing between them. “This is Skye.”
“Maria Hill,” the other woman said, holding out her hand. Her suit and stern features gave Skye the impression that she’d be just as straight-laced as May, but there was a sparkle of amusement in her eyes. “Ace attorney. Welcome to Nat and May’s Forever Home for Wayward Gays. It’s nice to meet you.”
Skye blinked, confused, and forgot the actual shaking part of the handshake for a moment.
“Forever what-now?”
Nat groaned. May rolled her eyes.
“Nothing,” Maria brushed her off with a cheeky shrug. “It really is nice to meet you. It’s just, these two get me around for custody stuff fairly often, that’s all. There’s often sensitive issues at play and it’s nice to have somebody from, you know, ‘the community’ on the case.”
“You’re – I mean you’re –“ Skye glanced at the photograph on the fridge. “Too?”
Maria shook her head.
“Ace, baby, all the way. But we take all sorts here.”
“Really?” It was not lost on any of them, the way Skye’s face lit up, and she blushed a little. After so many years being raised by a stifling church, and their network of often-just-as-stifling foster applicants, this was starting to feel like a whole new world. And she thought of Jemma, and if that went wrong, and of what if it did and they could live here, together, in this little piece of freedom. And even if they couldn’t – which would be good, of course, if Jemma could stay with her family who loved her – Skye could feel herself breathing easier here already.
May pulled something out of her pocket, and put it on the counter. A key.
“It’s yours if you want it,” she said.
Skye didn’t have to be asked twice.
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kaliforniakanada-blog · 8 years ago
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CALIFORNIA x 7
As most of you probably know, I’ve been to California several times over the past four years. In fact, If we’re keeping count, this past trip has marked my 7th visit - and while every visit is eventful in its own way, this one was different... This one felt less like a trip, and more like returning home. 
I’ve wanted to move to California since the first time I visited. My love for it only intensifies every time I step off the plane. But this time... This time, having gone alone, I was able to do things that are less touristy and more local. And I think it made me feel like I was experiencing what my everyday life will eventually become. 
There are two events in particular that I’d like to cover in this piece that I associate with my feelings of homeyness. The first is the night Kailen and I spent at The Viper Room, and the second is my experience getting a tattoo at Shamrock Social Club. 
I’ve been wanting to visit The Viper Room since the day I fell upon a picture of Johnny Depp wearing a beanie that bore the name. I spend a lot of time looking up useless information, so when I saw the picture, my curiosity led me to google. The Viper Room is a bar/venue that Johnny opened and co-owned in the early 90s. His goal was to have a place where he and his friends could hang out and play music without being bothered by anybody. And while he hasn’t owned it since 2004, the place has become a huge LA landmark. After all, it is located on the sunset strip and also happened to be the location of River Phoenix’s death following a drug overdose. 
While I was already set on visiting The Viper Room simply because of its affiliation to Johnny Depp, learning about River Phoenix’s death resulted in an even stronger interest in it. I somehow came across a book titled “Last Night at The Viper Room” which doubles as both a historical timeline of the venue itself and also a biography of River Phoenix. The book is great, and if you’re looking for something to read I highly recommend it. 
My addictive and borderline obsessive personality (see: my obsession with Ed Sheeran, Hamilton/Lin-Manuel Miranda as references) led me to develop an infatuation with the place, and every time Kailen and I go to LA I force her to drive by it so that I can stare at it longingly and/or take a picture standing in front of it. I was never able to actually go inside because Kailen only just recently turned 21. 
Funnily enough, I kind of forgot about how badly I wanted to visit it because I’d become so used to telling myself that I couldn’t. So when I remembered that I could due to Kailen mentioning it, my stomach turned over in excitement. We decided to go to LA on Sunday but didn’t really put much planning into actually visiting it because we were preoccupied with whatever else we did that day. When we came to a point where we were at a loss for what to do, The Viper Room popped back into our minds. We decided just to see what it was that was going on, and it turns out that it was an open mic / jam night type thing. We were pretty upset to find out that tickets weren’t available online anymore, but we decided to drive over and try our luck at the door. 
“Go ask that guy!!!” Kailen said when this punk-rock looking dude walked out of the all-black building. 
“He’s halfway down the street now, I’m not going to chase him” I said in response. 
That exact scenario played out for like, 10 other individuals until finally one guy lingered around a motorcycle parked on the sidewalk for a while. I finally got up the nerve to jump out of the car and casually walk over to him without seeming overly enthusiastic. 
“Hey, do you work here?” I asked, to which he replied “I do tonight!”
“Band member. SCORE” I thought. 
I followed up with “I was just wondering if tickets are going to be available at the door tonight seeing as they aren’t online anymore?” 
The guy’s eyes lit up as he replied “Oh yeah, I think so. How did you hear about the event?” 
I explained that I didn't actually hear about this event in particular but that I’ve been wanting to visit the venue for years. His friend walked up and introduced himself, so we all exchanged names and I said I’d see them later when the venue opened. 
I was about to get back into the car when Rob, the guy I’d been talking to shouted “KATELYN! Come here!” I turned around and walked back towards him as he pulled two tickets out of his pocket and handed them to me. 
I thanked him profusely and reiterated that I’d see him later. I skipped back to the car and explained the entire exchange to Kailen, who was just as ecstatic as I was at the fact that I’d just somehow scored free tickets to a place we’ve both grown an interest in over the years. 
We sat in the car for about a half an hour, deciding that we didn't want to be the first ones inside because we’re awkward and wouldn’t know how to handle that kind of hypothetical pressure. Eventually, when we realized literally NO ONE had gone inside and the show was supposed to have begun, we got over ourselves and walked over to the doorman. He told us that was the back door and to swing around the side to get in. 
“WHAT??? This is the BACK DOOR? How the HECK did we not know that?” We said. 
This entire time I’d been posing for pictures at ~the back door~.
To be fair, it makes no sense that the back door would be located on The Sunset Strip and that the front would be on some random street who’s name I didn’t even bother to learn, but what can you do. 
We headed over to the front and made our way inside. 
It doesn’t look like much. If you knew nothing about it, you might even dismiss it as boring. But there was some sort of electrical current of excitement surging through my body, and I couldn’t believe that I was actually standing in a place that is a staple in Hollywood’s history. I was ecstatic. The entertainment was weird as hell, but I remained ecstatic for the duration of the evening. I asked the bartender for something fruity (because I am a wimp) and he handed over some concoction that literally resulted in me coughing after the first sip. I was like NOPE, and slid it over towards Kailen. 
Having been the only females in the entire establishment, Kailen and I got some pretty intense looks from the men scattered around the room. Normally, I’d find that type of thing unsettling, but in this case it was just plain hilarious. We hoped somebody would come over and fund our evening, and as it turns out, somebody did. I don’t like alcohol so I skipped out on the drinks, but Kailen got a free flow of it all evening and I was so stoked. Secondhand excitement. It was great, and it turns out one of the guys we met happens to be a production coordinator for a film company in Beverly Hills. We exchanged instagram usernames and after chatting a bit, he even offered to get me a gig at his work if I ever wanted one. WHAT? Yeah. 
All in all, our night at The Viper Room was unbelievably memorable for the sole reason that we got to live it. I was so full of anticipation after all these years that nothing could ruin it for me. Nothing. I felt so alive in that moment, and I’m so glad that I got to experience it with my best friend. 
The second thing that I consider a bucket list item that has been crossed off during this trip is the fact that I was ((somehow)) able to get a tattoo at Shamrock Social Club. 
When we got to LA on the day that we went to The Viper Room, I asked Kailen if we could swing by SSC just to see if I could somehow make an appointment with Dr. Woo (after several failed attempts over the phone from across the continent). I figured worst case scenario I could take a picture with him and that would cushion the blow if I couldn’t make an appointment. 
The guy sitting out front who I spoke to explained that he doesn’t work there anymore, but that all of the artists are trained by Mark Mahoney and that they’re all capable of doing the half needle, detailed, tiny tats that I’d fallen in love with at first sight. He also mentioned that they accept walk-ins and said that there probably would be a few slots on Monday or Tuesday. 
Tuesday came around and Kailen and I were discussing getting little K’s tattooed on our fingers to symbolize our friendship (it is pretty remarkable, after all). We shopped around different tattoo parlours in Orange County but came to find that they were all fairly expensive and I figured that if I was going to spend that much money on the base fare alone, that I’d prefer to splurge a little more and get one at the place I’ve loved since I found Dr. Woo on instagram a few years prior. I called SSC and spoke to Jake again (the guy I’d met outside) who said we should call back later to see if they’d be free around 9-10pm. I called around 6:30, and Jake said that they were pretty backed up and that the following day might be a better option. I explained that I was flying home at 1pm the next day and a few minutes later he got back to me, on instagram, with the words “can you be here within the next 30 minutes?” My eyes lit up as I ran to explain to Kailen that they had room but only if we could get there before 9. We got into the car and the GPS said it would take an hour in a half. For that entire hour and a half, I legitimately felt like I was going to vomit out of the window. I was so unbelievably excited that I would finally be able to get a tattoo at the parlour of my dreams on such short notice. I was seriously hoping that they’d have time to fit in Kailen too and that we could get our K’s, but the place is a little intimidating and not really very fitting for that type of request.
I was tattooed by Max Hanson who’s instagram is a literal portfolio of fine art. He explained to me that he’d been tattooing for about 3 years and I was seriously shocked to find that half needles HARDLY hurt in comparison to standard ones. The whole process took about 40 minutes and my leg twitched the entire time because I was still in shock, disbelief and amazement. I couldn’t process what was going on whatsoever. I was SO stoked. I still am, to be completely honest. 
While these two events may seem like nothing out of the ordinary to an individual who has no interest in or just never heard of these places, both were life changing to me and it still feels so surreal that I got to experience them. 
There is something magical about Los Angeles, despite the fact that its kind of dirty and big and weird and loud. I think that there’s a reason that people are drawn to it. It’s full of rock and roll / pop culture history and home to so many greats both past and present. I am completely, head over heels in love with it and also Southern California as a whole. 
Eventually, I will call it home. As a matter of fact, I already do... But eventually, I won’t have to say goodbye to it anymore. And when that time comes I’ll be drowning in happiness, in part because I will finally live where I belong, and in part because I will no longer be across the continent from my best friend (unless she decides to live in New York permanently in which case I will handcuff her to the Hollywood Sign). 
So as I said, while I’ve been to California 7 times now, this time was inherently different. This time was a firm confirmation that it is my end goal. 
Coming back to Montreal has never hurt this much.
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ziggykazenzakis · 8 years ago
Text
i heard medium is a dyieng website so imma drop here all i had there just to have it somewhere
Schedule
12:02  —  Get up slowly, smoke the first cigarette. Find out you’re out of toothpaste.
12:10  —  Watch the new episode of Men Are Important, a show about the world where Men Are Important.
12:32  —  Fall asleep in the middle of Men Are Important.
13:11  —  Wake up nervously, smoke the second cigarette. Eat something.
13:17  —  Download a collection of short stories by someone incredibly obscure, some comic books, bit of contemporary french cinema. Never open downloads.
14:00  —  Go to the store to get groceries and toothpaste, come back with cigarettes, white wine and frozen pizza.
14:23  —  Write post for Community Buzzfeed, titled “28 reasons my God is better than yours”.
16:00  —  Go outside.
17:00  —  Point fingers at journalism majors.
19:27  —  Tell strangers at a bar how comic books and radio are close as mediums.
20:52  —  Get hit in the face.
22:12  —  Come home, write an essay on cultural significance of 400 Blows (never watch 400 Blows). Smoke fourteenth cigarette.
23:49  —  Look in the mirror.
00:28  —  Read Batman comics, open another pack of cigarettes.
01:02  —  Read Batman comics, but ironically.
02:37  —  Think of your own grandeur for prolonged periods of time, do absolutely nothing.
03:58  —  Find the strangest porno possible.
04:49  —  Try to fall asleep, cry silently.
12:02  —  Get up slowly, smoke the first cigarette. Find out you’re out of toothpaste.
bad joke from 2014
a man walks into a bar man drinks and drinks as he tries to drown his sorrow in cheap yet over-priced liquor which is probably watered down too he comes to a realization epiphany, perhaps not even that though because he spent the most of his adulthood trying to shrug off that idea deep back into the ether he comes to a realization that whatever he does is meaningless meaningless beyond the point of comprehension he doesn’t care for dead philosophers mind masturbation nor for the idea of time and space being the same intertwined thing all he knows is that his actions have no impact on the world around him none
after that setup you might expect a cheerful twist or an absurd one nihilism is intensely boring you might think, “it’s not about the journey it’s about the destination, honey” well first of all, don’t patronize me secondly, we can still get back to the base of this anecdote some slapstick comedy, maybe? or salvage the entire thing with some pop-cultural references that y’all hate but pretend to love it’s actually quite an art, to be pretentious whilst talking about Batman of all things
man keeps on drinking he looks up at the tiny TV atop the bar it’s a rerun of some sports game is that what they called? sports games? the whole thing is ridiculous and way past my control over it commentator says, “stop wallowing in self-pity” man is confused he looks to his left he looks to his right he looks right at the screen and gulps a shot of whiskey “that is what you’re doing with your life? little cry-baby anyway, back to you Johnson” “the game is quite a race today, folks…” and the voice trails off barkeep already saw the game he doesn’t care it’s not like there was much to care about in the first place man pays the bill leaves a tip not too much, not too little he goes home he’ll try to forget and he’ll inevitably fail
the bar was called “Huge Sweaty Balls” are you happy now that’s the punchline that’s the joke you’ve been waiting for everything is fucking great
Banned Names
Amir left the subway, avoiding stranger’s gaze, awkwardly tapping into it ever so often, apologizing as much as he can for snow-covered ten gallon hat using only his eyes. Through side streets and backstreets, which lead to crooked steps, which lead to a heavy door, which leads to basement. Hit aperture with his hat, bowed a bit, came in. Through hallway, and must shake hands with everyone, came. “Sorry guys, slept through”, Amir said. “What’s with the hat, did Haggard die?”, said Jim. “I’ve decided, that the band is called Astral Cowboys”.
“No”, said Thrasy. “Why?”, said Amir. “Cause that’s some fucking bullshit. I disagree”, said Thrasy. Thrasy was sure that the might one is the right one. Not many people agreed with him on things but less have tried to argue.
“Your will and we would have been called Wacky Eugenics”, said Amir. “I like it”, said Jim, not expecting spited glances from both sides. “And what would that be, in your idea? Delta Witchhouse?”, said Thrasy. “Nah, pretty casual psychedelics”, said Amir. “Why not just post-punk”, said Jim, fully expecting spited glances from both sides.
“Alright”, said Amir, “Astral Cowboys, gimme something better”. “Heinous Crime”, said Thrasy. “Circumstances”, said Jim. “No, Complications”. “Upvotes From The Underground”, said Jim. “If you won’t take it seriously then shut the fuck up”, said Thrasy. “A Kilo Of Potatoes”, said Jim.
“You got some bad ideas, Astral Cowboys”, said Amir. “Where does this preconception comes from, that you got the final word?”, said Thrasy. “Main vocals, lead guitar, lyrics — who else?”, said Amir. “Richards rules the Stones”, said Thrasy.
“Imma smoke”, said Jim, and left. “And one who dares to think that Astral Cowboys is a good title for anything should not write anything let alone songs”, said Thrasy. “It’s a good title! Intentionally kitsch but comfortable, relaxed, some chick shit, in a good way”, said Amir. “Here’s what’s going to happen”, said Thrasy. “Justice will be accomplished. Great, strong people been showered in mud by the weak, time and time again. Because they were allowed to. We’re going to punk. And it won’t be a riot. It will be anger. My holy mission is to continue what the Ramones started, convinced conservatives and a bunch of beautiful, rare bastards. I’m going to hit you, and you are going to hit the ground, and the band shall be called Circumstances. Or whatever the hell, Jim had some good ideas, but not Astral Cowboys, chief”.
Jim looked at the falling snow under the light of the street lamp. As he was lighting up a cigarette, he thought that he should learn to draw. He opened up a two years old text file on his three years old phone which was titled “bandnames.txt” and contained such as “Damn, A Burger? Don’t Mind If I Do”, “The Whatnots”, “No Weekends” and so on. He added “Ciet Vong”, which put up the file at the top of the list, threw the cig into a snowdrift, and walked back.
Jim walked in on a couple of grown children, trying to wrestle somewhat, and to hit, and not to damage all the appliance around. “How about Homoerotic Subtext? For a band name”, said Jim.
The band was standing and smoking. “We wasted three paid hours without touching the instruments”, said Amir. “Next week, same time?”
et in arcadia ego
looked barely dead and the cats started chewing on my thigh. They are sure that I’m dead, that I have no need for it, and that the still warm flesh is much more enjoyable than dry feed. The screens around blink with bright imagery of sin. Pick up the phone, look at the list of recent calls, which consists of the same number. After a click, beeps, before someone could reply, say “large pepperoni”, tell address, say, that I won’t need the change. Full cats fell asleep under the warm screens. After an hour to the dot, knock on the door. A kid paler than me holds a large white box the content of which is covered in sand round-shaped bread. He left without saying anything with his ten percent tip (cause death isn’t a reason to be uncorteous). Someone vaguely familiar comes in, full of energy, greets, tells how someone somewhere robbed a bank and uploaded the video of it on one of those sites. Says that if you take a city map and connect all the banks and their subsidiaries you’ll see a pentagram made of pentagrams which are made of pentagrams. “Dude, the main problem with you-know-who is that he didn’t transform hell into heaven but just sits there being a cog”, he says. After a brief pause, I say “we gotta call some five acquaintances and play some basketball”. “Good thinking, dude, good thinking. If all’s well we gotta smash some ATM afterwards. I don’t know why people don’t do it all the time, those things don’t look that hardy”, he says. We leave, the weather is perfect.
untitled
Sportscaster screams “verbiage” when I’m on a stroll Decribing empty vistas filled with horny patrols My dead self is my best self mind not in Malcolm’s way Beware of feedback loops every step of the way Give me a reason to leave my poorly assembled set To this very day les tricoteuses make content
Well you have ears and you have eyes Don’t listen to me look at some other guy There’s some courage to be had Writing down history of victorious empty heads It must be side effect of broken sleep patterns Finding rhythm and beauty in fecal matter
Stinging bland colors exorting a laugh Soundbites of worst to offer, what a fun life I’m asking others how to feel Plateauted yet again it’s no big deal When there’s light again over parks and backdoors I’ll try to mute proclivities towards bromide and havenots
My Dear Friends
The only thing here separating a lion and a man is a lousy moat. Jack Drowsey stands alone in Miami Zoo and stares at the animal. The sun is high on this weekday, Jack ignores a text from his boss, the lion looks back at Jack serenely, Jack puts phone on silent when boss calls, the lion yawns and stretches, Jacks turns the phone off when his wife calls. Jack leaves the zoo and gets in a car for which he has a key. Turns the ignition on, rips off BMW Dealership sticker off the glass and drives. He spent four years in Florida and never seen an alligator, but plenty of idiots. When Castro died, he saw a miami cuban and a skinhead hug. He drives among palm trees and potholes and thinks of his childhood in rural California. He had two friends, Barney and Billy. Barney now lives in San Francisco doing “some gay bullshit”, as Jack calls it. Billy died a few years back, OD’d on Xanax. It gets dark as he crosses the state line. Back in Bakersfield, Jack, Barney and Billy had a game. There was this guy everyone called just Dirty who had a real oxy problem. He was about twenty, but no one knew for sure, while Jack and the gang were all thirteen at the time. The goal of the game was as follows: get Dirty in a cage. They had a cage. The game was usually lost, except for that one time, when Billy told Dirty that if he stayed in the cage for an hour, they’d give him twelve dollars. Dirty walked into the cage, the boys locked it and left. From then on, Dirty was the wiser. Jack has been driving for three days straight now. Once, Barney had a Problem, he wanted to enlist. This curly pudgy kid, the kind who listens to Talking Heads, seventeen at the time, decided he had enough. He shaved his head, started running in the morning, talking about some evils from abroad gathering upon our doorstep, with nothing but vile intentions under their brown skins. Jack didn’t really care, he was happy for his friend to lose some weight and get a better chance at getting laid, but Billy was fuming. For three weeks there were constant arguing, until the two stopped talking and shaking hands altogether. Two months later, Jack’s birthday, which he saw as an opportunity to reconcile his buddies. They spent most of the night at the opposite ends of the room until they were drunk enough to get into some altercations. The previously routine arguing quickly turned when Billy yelled “Bash the fash!”. He must’ve forgotten that previously an artsy cunt spent time working on his body, while Billy was smoking weed and telling young women that they should all look more like Suicide Girls. Barney broke Billy’s nose, who was then smiling and coughing blood laying on the ground. Barney cried a bit. Everything returned to normal. Jack is approaching LA. He hadn’t slept, he hadn’t eaten, he stopped at a gas station once and got a bottle of water. He shuts his eyes for a second at an intersection and a truck is swift and merciless. Now he’s in LA, of sorts. It’s snowing. Dirty approaches him, but he’s clean, and he’s dressed up as Elvis. “Hi, Jack, remember me?”, says clean Dirty. “It’s me, Bruce”, he says. “You’re dead, buddy. Billy is here too, you wanna meet him? Or maybe someone famous first, how does a date with Rita Hayworth sounds to ya, huh, old pal?”, says Dirty. Jack keeps walking, Dirty follows. There’s no sunshine, only snow. There are no cars and Dirty is the only person around. Where would be banners and posters and billboards that advertise a multibillion industry of boredom is nothing; all of them show nothing. “Where are you going, you little shit?”, says Dirty, and Jack finds himself to be thirteen. He keeps walking. “You think I don’t remember? Here it’s hard to forget. All you do is remember”, says Dirty to the kid. “Where the fuck did you even find a cage?”, says Dirty, stops walking, mumbles something, pulls out a cigarette. Jack stops walking too. “We were just kids”, Jack says. “Whatever, asshole. I don’t care. There isn’t some lesson to be had here. Just go”, Dirty says, puffing on a newport. Jack is adult again, and he keeps walking. Until he sees Billy, whose skin is whiter than the snow around. “Why did you leave them?”, he says. Jack punches Billy in the shoulder. “Why did you leave us?”, he says. Billy can’t handle the punch and falls on his ass. “You and Barney seemed to have it figured out, somewhat. He with his art, you with your wife and a job. Not a great job, but a real job, doing something, being able to afford shit and all. I had absolutely nothing. I had no one. I did not leave you two, you did that before. I had bills, I had no fun, I had an easy way out. I took it. What’s your excuse?”, says Billy. And Jack has none.
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