#joel s. rice

[esqueletosgays]

FINAL EXAM (1981)

Director: Jimmy Huston Cinematography: Darrell Catchart

[mariocki]

Final Exam (1981)

"Why are you so apprehensive? When are you going to realise that the whole world isn't made of psychopaths skulking about?"

"But they are out there. They do exist. People are killed every day for no reason at all. Perfect strangers wake up in the morning and decide, 'Hmm, I think it's a good day to snuff somebody". And these are people who eat at our restaurants with us, use our highways and vote for the President, which probably explains something about him, too. I'm not paranoid. I'm just facing unhappy facts."

[moviesandmania]

FINAL EXAM (1981) Reviews of iconic yet quirky slasher

‘Some may pass the test… God help the rest.’ Final Exam is a 1981 American slasher horror film written and directed by Jimmy Huston (My Best Friend is a Vampire) who apparently wanted to go against the norm and decided to feature little on-screen graphic violence. The MPM movie stars Cecile Bagdadi, Joel S. Rice and Ralph Brown. Plot: Late at night, two college students (Carol Capka and Shannon…

[toournextadventure]

everyone but her pt.29

Summary: Wednesday's ex makes an appearance and you're not happy about it. Neither is the voice in your head. And things only go downhill from there.

Word Count: 4.8k Warnings: swearing, murder, hallucinations, injuries, police Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist)

“Joel?” You asked.

“I haven’t seen you in ages,” Joel said, his eyes still glued to Wednesday. Why was he looking at her like that?

“Since that second summer at Camp Chippewa,” Wednesday said with the slightest tilt of her head. Why was she looking at him like that?

“Camp what?” You asked. Everyone seemed to be trying to follow the conversation same as you; it didn’t make you feel any better.

Your migraine got worse.

“You staged a getaway again, same as the first summer,” Joel continued.

“What is going on?” You asked.

“Come join us,” Wednesday said as she moved aside.

“What the fuck?” You whispered to yourself as you watched him sit right by your girlfriend. Why was he so eager? What the hell was he doing?

He made her tilt her head, the voice in your head growled, loud and booming. It almost felt like it was rattling your brain inside your skull before pulverising it with a meat tenderiser. Even though it worsened the migraine, you knew the voice was right. This Joel character, whoever the hell he was, had made Wednesday do the equivalent of a smile. You could barely even do that.

You watched - and seethed - as Joel and Wednesday started talking as if they had known each other for centuries. She doesn’t talk to you like that, the voice said when Wednesday started rambling about whatever thing she had learned in her Lit class that, coincidentally, he was also taking. They were bonding.

Get angry, the voice said when Wednesday very nearly smirked at something he said. She didn't, but she nearly did, and that was bad enough. Images flashed in your mind, images of your hands around his neck. It would be simple, you only had to reach over the table. You just looked back down at your food and stabbed your spoon through your rice.

"Seems Wednesday finally has a friend," Divina said from her spot beside you.

"Yeah," you mumbled.

His pulse weakening beneath your fingers as you squeezed harder-

-you blinked to clear the image away. You didn’t need to kill him, especially if he was a friend of Wednesday’s. She didn’t have many friends, you needed to calm down and let her live. Wednesday Addams had no keeper, and even if she did it certainly wouldn’t be you.

“How do you two know each other again?”Ash asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. You stabbed the spoon into your food once again; you weren’t hungry anymore.

“My Aunt Debbie deceived my parents into forcing Pugsley and me to attend a summer camp a few years ago,” Wednesday said with another tilt of her head. You roughly grabbed your coffee, suppressing your cough when the liquid was still just a bit too hot when it hit your throat.

“You have an Aunt Debbie?” Bianca asked.

“Picture a grown Enid, but more homicide and mania,” you said with a shrug. Not that you had met her yet, but you had heard stories. After all, she had married Wednesday’s favourite Uncle.

“We were always in trouble for not being like everyone else,” Joel said. He needed to quit looking at Wednesday before you ripped his eyes out of his skull.

“What rebels,” you mimicked, ignoring the look Yoko sent your way. “Practically anarchists.”

“Wednesday was my first kiss, actually.”

You choked on the coffee you had just attempted to drink. She was what? With wide eyes, you looked up to see Wednesday looking at you with a passive face, aside from the slightly lowered brows. Oh she was not giving you that look, not when you were just told Mr. Happy Go Lucky over there had kissed her.

“Oh shit,” Yoko whispered.

Even with your eyes glued to Joel, you could feel everyone else’s eyes on you. Watching you, waiting to see if you would snap. Is that what your life had turned into? One where everyone was just waiting to see what would be the straw to break the camel’s back? Worried that just one wrong thing would cause you to break and lose your temper? 

They should be worried, the voice in your head taunted. You’re a loose canon. 

No you weren’t. 

A liability. 

No. 

A death wish.

“So you two were together?” Ajax asked, his eyes still closed from the hangover no doubt plaguing his body.

“As well as two children can be,” Wednesday said.

“For about a year and a half or so,” Joel said with a nod. He wasn’t even giving you the respect of looking at you.

A death wish.

“We were, what, 12? 13?” Joel asked as he looked at Wednesday with the beginning of a smile.

Tick tick tick.

“I believe so,” Wednesday said with a slight nod.

“Shit,” Yoko mumbled again.

You’re gonna snap.

“And you actually, like, had a good time?” Kent asked Wednesday.

Tick tick tick.

“I would say it was rather enjoyable, yes,” Wednesday answered.

Boom.

You slammed your hands on the table and stood up quickly. The ringing in your ears grew with each second that seemed to crawl by at an agonising pace. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get a full breath. It felt like you were trying to breathe underwater, each breath heavier and more painful than the last. You were acutely aware of everyone’s eyes on you as the hair on the back of your neck stood up.

Defend what’s yours.

“Hey,” Divina said softly. You couldn’t help but flinch when her hand rested on your forearm. She can go too. “You okay?”

“I’m gonna head out,” you managed to choke out past the lump in your throat.

“Are you feeling ill?” Wednesday asked.

Finally she was looking at you with something other than indifference. Outwardly it would almost seem angry, but you could see the lack of a glare in her eyes. She wasn’t looking up at you, but looking at you with the slightest downturn of her lips. You knew what care looked like on her, and for the first time all day, it was what she was showing you.

“I have a pocket pharmacy,” Joel said quickly, “did you need something specific?”

Kill them all.

“I’m good,” you said harshly. Break his spirit. “I’ll see you guys at the dorm.”

“Did you-”

-you didn’t wait to hear what Yoko was going to say before leaving the booth and heading out of the little restaurant. You gave a tense goodbye wave to Chung on the way out the door. The migraine continued to pound against the inside of your skull, worsening when the sunlight hit your eyes.

Go back in there and show him who’s the boss.

“Shut up,” you said through clenched teeth as you started walking aimlessly down the street.

The voice continued to rage inside your head, mixing between threats and images that, try as you might, you couldn’t shake off. The sound of Joel’s gasps for air or the feel of him desperately trying to claw your hands off. It was too much, you didn’t want to hurt him.

Yes you do.

“I don’t,” you said aloud again, ignoring the look a random woman gave you as you walked past her.

Your feet carried you until you reached the taller buildings in town; the high rises that truly weren’t very high. With only a quick glance around, you stepped into one of the alleys and stopped midway. Your fingers shook as you slid your shirt off and unbuckled the harness, exhaling through your nose at the sudden lack of pressure against your back.

Stop running away.

There was a slight pressure in your back as your wings expanded before you pushed yourself off the ground, propelling straight into the sky until you could land on the top of the highest building. It was a nice place, plenty secluded and you had even managed to sneak a few things up there. There was only one door and it was always locked, so you could keep your things nice and secret.

Breathing continued to be a struggle as your feet touched the rooftop and your wings folded back securely in place. The tips of a few feathers brushed against your arm and you frowned for a moment. It was about time for a dust bath; they were feeling a little unkempt. A problem for another time, of course.

You walked around the rooftop, pacing back and forth in front of one of the walls that was covered in the reflective glass. Sometimes, during the summer, it nearly turns you into a roasted chicken. But now, during the middle of winter, it was a nice change of pace and-

-a familiar head of unruly curls reflected off the glass.

Your body turned so quickly you nearly slipped on the slick gravel. It felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest when you saw him in the glass, looking at you with such pity you wanted to scream. Tears didn’t bother welling up in your eyes, instead just pouring over until you could feel them nearly freezing on your cheeks from the temperature outside.

“What have you done?” Nicky asked with a tilt of his head and a frown.

You shook your head frantically. You hadn’t done anything, that’s why you were up there. So you wouldn't do anything!

He’s right, the voice said.

“I’m so disappointed,” he said.

The glass shattered before he could open his mouth again, the sharp sound causing you to flinch and squeeze your eyes shut. A pain radiated through your hand. For a fleeting second the migraine vanished before coming back with a vengeance. You choked back a cry before opening your eyes.

Nicky was gone.

The panel of glass was in shards on the ground, now nothing more than a metal backing. Something warm dripped from your hand. You let your head fall and saw the red dripping down your fingers to the gravel below. It was almost hypnotising. Beautiful even.

He’s disappointed in you.

“Stop,” you mumbled as you lifted your hands to cover your ears.

He knows what you did.

“Please stop.” The lump in your throat grew with the tears that continued to fall onto the gravel, mixing with the droplets of blood.

He would hate you.

You tried to say something but the words got caught, coming out as nothing more than a strangled sob as you fell to your knees. The gravel dug through your pants and into your skin, but all you could feel was the weight of Nicky’s disappointment weighing heavy on your shoulders.

It was unclear how long you sat up there on the roof, covering your ears and crying, the cold winter air burning your lungs with each shaky gasp. You were barely even aware of the air getting more crisp, stinging your cheeks and nearly freezing the tears to your skin.

At one point you just let your hands drop and rest on your thighs. Your left hand was caked in dried blood that cracked when it moved. It didn’t hurt anymore, not really. It just rested on your leg as you stared at the gravel, focusing on the singular black pebble you had found in your daze.

"Y/N?"

You didn’t even flinch at the voice behind you; truthfully you weren’t even surprised she had managed to get through the locked door. It was on par for her, that was for sure. Had she brought her new toy with her? Was he going to follow her every move as if his life depended on it?

You do the same.

Yeah. Yeah you did.

“Mi amore,” Wednesday said in a voice so soft you felt a fresh wave of tears fall.

A pair of soft hands held your face firmly before you actually saw Wednesday in front of you. Her eyes were wide and looking over every inch of you. She would hate what she saw, you knew that much. You looked pitiful and weak and broken and that wasn’t acceptable.

Joel isn’t broken.

“You’re freezing,” Wednesday said in that painfully soft voice that you were growing to hate.

She uses it because you’re weak.

“Enid made stew,” she said as if she wasn’t watching you kneel on the precipice of a breakdown. “It should help warm you up.”

She straightened in front of you without letting go of your face. The slightest pull indicated she wanted you to follow, but you just couldn’t get up. Nicky’s face was stuck in your mind, that look of disappointment haunting you. It left your head reeling and had your mouth filling with saliva; you felt like you were going to be sick.

“Cara mia?”

Don’t, you thought, don’t call me that. Her eyes were gentle, and all she had to do was tilt her head before you choked out a sob. As uncharacteristic of her as it was, her hands left your face to wrap around your shoulders, pulling you forward until your head rested on her stomach and you had her unspoken permission to cry.

You’re weak.

That simple fact made you cry harder into Wednesday’s stomach, your hands lifting to grab her jacket so tightly you felt the skin split on your knuckles once again. It was right; you were weak. You couldn’t even handle her seeing an old friend again without completely losing every bit of sanity you had left. How were you going to do anything for her if you couldn’t even do that?

And the fact that she still held you tight while you cried? Showed such a shameless display of weakness and vulnerability when you knew she hated such things in people? Especially such visible displays of those emotions. And yet there you were, crying into her clothes with blood on your hand because you couldn’t stand looking at a fucking piece of glass.

“Would you find comfort in talking about it?” Wednesday asked when you finally settled into little more than the occasional sniffle.

Would you? Possibly. But how could you admit anything that had been going on in your mind? The voices, the jealousy, the insecurity. Nicky. There was no way to talk about any of it without coming across as crazy, and you weren’t crazy. Or maybe you were, you weren’t so sure anymore.

The migraine got worse.

“No,” you said with a long exhale through your nose before pulling back. “No I wouldn’t.”

“Very well,” she said.

She stilled for a moment, and you wondered if she was going to berate you. Tell you to straighten up, keep going, move on. That’s what your dad would have said. It’s what your mom would have said too. Her family was unusual with emotions, maybe she was going to tell you the same thing.

But then you felt her lips press to the top of your head, lingering for far longer than necessary, and it was your turn to freeze. When she pulled away, her gaze had softened and you were looking at your Wednesday. Your Wednesday, who secretly enjoyed receiving affection and even found pleasure in giving it back.

“If you would wish to talk about it, you may,” she said with a tilt of her head. “I would appreciate forewarning so I may prepare,” she blinked once, “but you may.”

You looked up at her. Well, you tried; truthfully she wasn’t much taller than you even when you were on your knees. Just the sight of her was enough to have your heart trying to jump out of your throat; even at night, in the current situation, she looked stunning. No contrast at all to the dark sky above her, simply blending in with the natural beauty surrounding her.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked.

“No,” she said quickly.

“What?” You asked with furrowed brows. “Why not?”

“We are on a freezing rooftop in the middle of winter,” she said, “you can kiss me at home.”

“Bet you kissed Joel in the middle of winter,” you grumbled as Wednesday steadied herself to help you to your feet.

“Not on a freezing rooftop.”

“So you did kiss him in the middle of winter,” you said quickly.

You were upset. Drastically upset, and nothing was going to change it. But the tension of the situation was getting to be far too much, and you were far too tired to keep up with it. Nicky’s face faded into the back of your mind and, though he was still there, he didn’t seem quite as disappointed. At least not at the moment. You could work with that.

“Is Joel the reason you stormed out of the restaurant?” She asked with her own raised brow. “Because if so, it’s rather immature.”

If anyone else had been around, they would have thought she was treating you like an imbecile. And she was! But the slight tilt of her head and the smallest tug at the corner of her lips was a dead giveaway. No one else would have noticed except possibly Enid - and the rest of the Addamses of course - but you did. It eased that ache that had settled in the hollow of your throat just enough to be tolerable.

“I’m not scared of some nerdy kid,” you grumbled even as you reached over and pulled Wednesday to the ledge of the rooftop. She was going to hate you in a moment. “I’d beat him to a pulp.”

“Do not fly me down to the ground,” Wednesday warned you with her genuine, murderous glare. It was lovely.

“Payback for kissing someone before me,” you said with a cheeky grin as you held her close to your chest and tipped backwards over the ledge.

She didn’t scream, which was an improvement from the past few times you had forced her to fly with you. But she most certainly gripped you with nails that could sever a jugular, and the sting of them digging into your skin was rather delicious. There was no doubt when you landed that you would have crescent shaped wounds on your back. It was okay though; it was hot.

“You’re a menace to society,” Wednesday said as she attempted to fix her now-windswept hair.

“But I’m your menace to society,” you said with a shrug.

She simply grabbed your hand, intertwined your fingers, and started pulling you to the dorm.

It was a quiet walk, and most of yours and Wednesday’s walks tended to be. And as much as you wished for her to talk, to say something to keep you out of your head, you kept your own mouth shut. After all, you certainly had nothing to say, so how were you going to expect her to keep up the entire conversation on her own? It was Wednesday Addams, not Enid; it simply wasn’t realistic.

“So,” you started. “You and Joel, huh?”

“Do not start,” she said with a quick shake of her head.

“You know about Ash,” you grumbled, “why can’t I know about him?”

“Because I wasn’t the one who looked like they would murder the other one.”

“You know I have issues,” you said with a huff. “Besides, I didn’t do anything!”

“I will not be the cause of a murder,” Wednesday said as she squared her shoulders. “At least not this one.”

“Don’t worry, darling, we’ll find you someone worthy of your murderous hands,” you said.

“You’re being ridiculous,” she huffed, but nonetheless stepped closer to you until her arm was pressed against yours.

“But like, back to you and Joel.”

“Do not-”

“-hey kid.”

Both you and Wednesday slowed to a stop before turning around to see who had called out. A police officer was quickly approaching. Your eyes instantly fell on the way his hand was resting on his gun. It was too dark outside for anyone to come by and see what was happening, if anyone came by at all. As discreetly as possible, you pulled Wednesday slightly behind you until you were between her and the cop.

“Miss Smith?” He asked, his eyes on you.

“I go by Johnson,” you said quickly, your eyes darting between his gun and his face.

“I have orders to bring you in for some questioning,” he continued as if you hadn’t just corrected him.

“About what?” You asked. Behind you, Wednesday squeezed your hand.

“You were at the Pi Beta Phi party last night, correct?” He asked.

“Yeah?” You said slowly; an uncomfortable feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. “Why?”

“Two young men were found murdered this morning,” he said with a raised brow. His hand tightened around the gun. “Witnesses say you got into an altercation with them during the party.”

“Shit,” you sighed.

“I need you to come with me for questioning,” he said with a shrug.

“Am I under arrest?”

“Not at this time,” he answered a little too quickly.

You turned your head just enough to look at Wednesday, who was glaring at the cop without the least bit of shame. In other circumstances you would have admired it, joined in, even. But now? No, she needed to behave and you very much needed to get him away from her. There was no way he was going to treat a Latina properly, with or without witnesses.

“Call Señor Moreno,” you said as you stepped back, “and I’ll see you at the dorm.”

Wednesday gave you a singular nod before letting go of your hand so you could finally walk off with the officer. She looked furious, but more importantly she looked scared. It always appeared differently on Wednesday; she straightened her shoulders and held her chin higher than usual. You didn’t blame her, you were scared too. But you hoped she would just head home and wait for you.

The police officer opened the back door of the cruiser and helped you in; it was far too tight of a space for you and your unharnessed wings, but you supposed you could make do. He didn’t say a word as he got into the driver’s seat and sped off. You barely had time to see Wednesday through the window as you passed, heading straight for the police station.

You thought back to the previous night on the drive. They had been pricks, and you didn’t even feel the least bit sorry that they were dead. But you hadn’t done it and everyone knew it. You had been with someone the entire night aside from maybe five or 10 minutes, and how could you have killed two people in that time? At a party? It wasn’t possible.

They’re targeting you, the voice in your head said tauntingly. They know you have a record. True, but it hadn’t been you. Everyone knew it, and the police would know it soon enough too. They were just going to ask their questions, realise you were innocent, and let you go back home as if nothing had ever happened.

The sounds of the station were enough to have your skin crawling when you finally arrived; your last experience hadn’t been a pleasant one. You could almost even feel the sharp sting of Erin’s fist again. But you stood tall and followed the officer, letting him lead you to a small interrogation room that was too tight and had your head reeling.

“Have a seat, kid,” he said before pulling his own chair up. You sat quickly.

“Gonna read me my Miranda Rights?” You asked before he could even get settled.

“You’re not under arrest,” he said with a shrug, “you’re free to go at any time.”

“If you end up arresting me without reading me my rights, you’ll lose a case.” You sat back and crossed your arms over your chest. Cool it, you thought to yourself, you’re sounding too defensive.

Don’t cool it, the voice argued back, make it worse.

“I can tell this isn’t your first rodeo,” the officer said as he mirrored your position.

“It’s not,” you said; you readjusted your jaw and broke eye contact first. “Please ask your questions so I can go home.”

“Did you have an altercation last night with Mr. Burton and Mr. Holland?” He asked, getting right into it.

“I got into a fight with two frat boys last night, yeah,” you nodded. “But I didn’t stop to ask their names.”

“What was the fight about?”

“They were being homophobic pricks to my friends,” you said. “As well as throwing around a few choice insults about Outcasts.”

“So you started the fight?” He wrote something down on a piece of paper. You did your best not to look.

“They started the fight when they called my friends faggots,” you corrected. “I only retaliated physically after they threw an insult at me as well.”

“But you started the physical altercation?” He asked as he looked up at you.

Lie, the voice in your head said. It’s a trap. But you didn’t want to lie; if you could tell the truth and prove that you hadn’t done anything, then they would let you go. That was how it was supposed to work, right? Innocent until proven guilty? You hadn’t done anything wrong and you knew it, you weren’t going to let them just take you down a second time.

“I threw the first punch, that’s correct,” you said with a nod, immediately clenching your jaw to try and ease the anxiety bubbling up in your chest.

“And what injuries did you inflict on them?” He pushed.

“I cold cocked one of them, headbutted the other,” you started with a sigh, thinking back to what had happened. What had you done to them? “A few more punches.” Oh yeah. “And I kicked one of them in the balls.” You had to fight not to smile at the memory.

“You kicked him in the testicles?” The officer confirmed with an uneasy face.

“Yes sir,” you said simply, “pretty hard, actually.”

He squirmed in his seat and exhaled harshly through his nose.

“Can someone corroborate that story?” He asked.

He doesn’t believe you.

“A lot of someones,” you said quickly. “We all live in the same dorm, I can give you their names.”

The officer nodded and started jotting on his piece of paper. At the go ahead, you gave him the names of everyone you thought wouldn’t be targeted by the police; you made sure not to mention Wednesday, Bianca, or Yoko. If anything were to go downhill, they would be the first to be brought in for questioning. No, you would rather die than have the cops after them.

“And do you have an alibi for the entire night?” He asked after getting everyone’s names and numbers.

“Those same people,” you said with a gesture of your head toward the sheet of paper. “I was with at least one of them all night.”

“And after the party?” He asked.

“We all left at the same time and went home,” you said. “And I slept with my girlfriend all night.”

“And all of these people will tell me the same thing?” He said with a raised brow; he still didn’t believe you. “That you were with them at the party and after?”

“Yes,” you said with the utmost confidence you could manage to convey. “Because it’s the truth.”

The officer sat back in his chair again and stared at you. He’s testing you. You knew that, you could tell, but he wasn’t going to win. You had nothing to hide. There was nothing they were going to find, and you were going to go home and go to sleep with Wednesday, just like every other night. They weren’t going to trick you like they had after Nicky.

“That’s all the questions I’ve got for you tonight,” he finally said, causing your shoulders to visibly fall. “If I have any more I’ll give you a call.”

“Yes sir,” you said with a nod as you stood up from your seat. The officer did the same. “Thank you.”

“Hey kid,” he said before you could start walking down the hall; you stopped and looked him in the eyes. “For the record, I don’t think you did it.”

“You don’t?” You asked incredulously.

He’s lying.

“I knew those boys,” he said with a shrug, “they were always causing trouble.” You nodded once in acknowledgement. “Go on home, it’s late.”

“Yes sir,” you said softly. “Thank you.”

He nodded at you and gave you a polite smile before gesturing forward, following you through the hallway until you were at the reception. You gave an awkward smile and wave as you exited the station and inhaled the crisp winter air. It stung, but at least it wasn’t suffocating.

He was lying, the voice said, he believes it’s you.

“Shut up,” you mumbled to yourself as you made your way down the street, heading directly to the dorms.

You very much needed a long night’s rest. Wednesday had better give you that kiss.

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[lokischocolatefountain]

Chapter 1– If Your Daughter Needs a Void

Everyone Loves Contractors

Everyone in Jackson had a role to play, a responsibility to fulfil towards the community. They all fit together like pieces of a puzzle. Except for Joel Miller who knew how to protect and make deals but not to chaperone children’s dances and bring cookies to the bake sale. Ellie was his purpose and he would do anything from heinous crimes to social events if it put that toothy smile back on her face. Luckily for him, he isn’t the only single parent in town who could relate.

Navigation: Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Fandom: The Last of Us (TV)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k words

A/N: I am not immune to Pedro Pascal. Something I looove seeing in TLOU is its age appropriate relationships like with Joel and Tess. I want to see more graying older men falling in love with older graying women. So, I’m writing one.

Joel Miller walked up to his door, his knees creaking like the doors of a haunted mansion and his back begging him to lie back down on his bed. The incessant knocks had finally gotten to him. Sleep was not something he found often. Peaceful sleep was even more of a rarity. He was going to bash in the head of whoever was stood outside being an absolute fucking menace.

His anger simmered when he opened the door to find the kid smiling sheepishly at him. She was wearing a different backpack now, the one she was painting stars on just last week. It was filled with books and little knickknacks instead of the handgun, pun book and non-perishable food of their traveling days. The purple keychain had moved from that old tattered pack to the new one, a little brighter after being scrubbed thoroughly under the sink.

“Could’ve used your key,” he snapped, walking in and letting her follow him inside. The backpack fell to the floor with a thump right by the door even though he had asked her to place it on the side to keep from blocking the exit. He was deaf on one ear, but kids were selectively deaf to their parents on both ears.

“Relaaax man,” she whined, crashing on the sofa and putting her dirty boots up on the coffee table. “I just forgot to take my key with me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, walking into the kitchen even though his feet ached to climb the stairs back up to the bedroom and resume sleep. But he knew better than to try his luck. It was a miracle that he was able to close his eyes for— he looked up at the clock to check the time— 2 hours. Trying for sleep again would be futile. Besides, the kid would be hungry after running around in school the entire day.

He would ask her to reheat the rice he cooked for them and eat by herself, but that just felt wrong. Like he was shirking his duties as her…whatever.

Not seconds after putting her backpack down and crashing on the couch, she began her usual spiel about what happened in school. It was strange at first to hear her rant about everything she learned and all the games she played and petty fights she had with her schoolmates. It all felt too normal, too much like the times before. It put him on edge, like this normality would end at any second and he would be back in the wild, failing her over and over.

And then there was the guilt…there was always guilt. His past failures always came crashing in with every single thing Ellie did.

Today, it was in answering the door for her when she returned from school. It was in standing there and reheating the rice in the cast iron pan as she spoke about the asteroid belt and Jupiter’s moons. His heart clenched as he thought of his Sarah coming home, opening the door to their empty house, doing her homework and studying and reheating the food by herself. No one to talk to about her friends, no one to listen to her about her crush on some boy if she even had one… He didn’t know. He was out there working and working and working, putting food on the table and money in a savings account for her to go to college. And it was all for naught— both Sarah and money stopped being part of their world.

She would be in her thirties now, much older than the kid he was now fathering instead of her. Hell, she might have her own kid. He would be close to retirement, looking forward to being just Grandpa Joel.

“—and then I showed him how it’s done. Three bullets, one by one PEW! PEW! PEW!” She said, making guns with her fingers and shooting in front of her. “All bullseye. He was standing there like—” she gasped and re-enacted how her classmate looked at her in wonder at her shooting skills.

“Don’t forget that you were also a terrible shot before I spent many weeks teaching you how to shoot. Don’t show off around your schoolmates. Help if you can, or just shut up.” He had these ‘normal’ concerns again. Her teachers had called him for a parent-teacher conference where they expressed concerns about her behaviour— too loud, too quiet, too aggressive, too brash, too isolated. They always compared her behaviour to that of other kids her age. He wanted to scream at them, shake them by their shoulders until it registered that his kid had been through things they will never understand, that they should fucking get over it and just teacher her math. But he couldn’t.

It was some bullshit.

All he could do without having her kicked out of this safe haven was to try to change her behaviour.

“Come on, maaan! Let me show off the one skill I have. They are all better at other subjects than me and I’m the dumbass in every class. I’m gonna be the best at the shooting classes.”

“You can be the best at something without being an ass— without being rude,” he said, plating the rice and placing it in front of her. His mouth was the problem, he realised. If he swore in every breath, she would be encouraged to do it too.

She shoveled the food in her mouth, her manners still…absent. She was better behaved than on their first day here, but her behaviour still left much to be desired. He didn’t blame her. This was her first time in polite society and it hadn’t been long since they got here. Hell, he grew up in a normal world and he still caught himself behaving like an animal sometimes. That is what two decades of life in an apocalypse did to a man.

“Well, you were a smug asshole when you started teaching me how to shoot. You had that smirk on your face like you thought you were the shit.”

“Language, Ellie. I know this is the way you are used to speaking. But, it’s not considered nice here.”

“Oh, give me a goddamned motherfucking break, Joel. Isn’t this the point of having a home? Saying whatever you want and being who you are? I’m faking it outside, okay? Just let me be in here,” she snapped, getting off the chair and marching up the stairs. The door slammed and Joel froze, clueless about what to do.

The thought he was trying to push away for so long came rushing back in despite his best efforts— Sarah never did that. He knew it wasn’t productive to do that. Comparisons served no purpose. Comparing your pseudo-daughter with your daughter who died two whole decades ago was even more useless. Ellie was not the same person, Ellie didn’t grow up in the same world that his daughter did. He was not the same man either.

What was he even supposed to do in this situation? Ground her? He never had to ground Sarah. What would that even mean in this world, in this town, for a girl who had seen horrors beyond the imaginations of her peers in Jackson. Wouldn’t it be cruel to take away the freedom of a kid who had only just gotten it?

Sighing, he put away the pan in which he heated the rice, hoping that he could reheat her rice when she was in a better mood. And he was not really in the mood to clean up.

When it had been half an hour since their argument, he climbed the stairs to Ellie’s room, grunting as his knees reminded him of the wear and tear they had been through to get him to this point. The plate of rice, warm once again, sat hopefully on the palm of his left hand as his right knocked on her door.

“Whaat?” Asked a muffled voice from inside the room.

He cleared his throat before asking, “Can I come in?”

He needed to put the plate down. His palms were suddenly sweaty and he was afraid he would drop the warm porcelain plate on the floor. It annoyed him that she was taking her sweet time to answer, but stood outside her door patiently. He heard the ruffling of the sheets before she finally answered, her voice barely audible. “Okayyy…”

He opened the door to find her lying face down on her bed.

“Ellie…”

“I don’t want to be yelled at.”

He took a deep breath. “No yelling,” he agreed. Was this bad parenting? Was he supposed to yell? His mother would have kicked his butt for swearing the way she did. He didn’t have the energy for butt kicking and she would not be receptive to any rule that was enforced that way.

He put the plate down on her side-table and took a seat on the armchair he’d made for the living room that mysteriously walked up the stairs and into her room one day. She did not ask for permission to move it, didn’t even care that it would be too heavy for her to safely carry. But his heart warmed to know that she liked something he made.

He would begin by letting her know that he understood where she was coming from. Then he would bring up his justification. It should work, right?

“It must be…I… I understand. It’s a very different way of life and everything is new for you. It will take you time to adjust, I think. And umm…it can be annoying to have new rules about every single thing.”

She snorted.

“And I also get that you will want to be yourself at home.”

“But?” She asked, finally turning her head away from the pillow and looking at him. Her eyes narrowed at him and her lips were pursed. He wanted to lie, say everything was alright just to make her feel good again.

“I just wanted to break the habit of swearing. It might slip when you’re outside the house and your teachers wouldn’t be happy with that. You just need to get into the practice of speaking differently based on where you are. Formal and respectful with your teachers and more casual with your friends. Respectful to strangers too. That is hard to do, to let your guard down around new people.”

He didn’t have to explain why. She knew exactly what he was talking about. He wasn’t immune to it either. He approached people with hostility, afraid they were there to fight him or hurt Ellie. It was proving nearly impossible to get over.

“I just want you to fit in,” he continued when she didn’t argue his points.

“Why? I don’t want to be like those dickheads who don’t even know how to shoot a gun. I will never be the girl who is worried about what sweater to wear with what jeans and get nervous asking some stupid boy out for the spring dance. It’s dumb.”

He slouched in the chair, making himself smaller, feeling smaller. He had no problems with the patrols, no problems with shooting down the infected that stumbled into their radius. But this? This made him shrivel up.

“Fitting in is important. It can mean the difference between survival and…” he trailed off, struggling to explain social exclusion. He never had to explain to Sarah why she should hang out with the Alders and put up with Mrs. Adler’s preaching. A girl who had to survive all that shit might not even take this seriously.

“You need to make a good impression. Make sure people like you. Make friends. You need people.”

“I have people, Joel. I have you. Don’t need these losers.”

“I’m not always going to be here,” he said, regretting it immediately as he saw the fear in her eyes. Neither had to say it out loud, but he knew they were both thinking of the times she had to save his life. “Like…in school,” he quickly corrected. “I’m not with you everywhere you go. You need to learn to do this on your own, find more people.”

“Is that why you stay cooped up in this house and don’t leave unless Tommy or I drag you out or you have patrol duty?”

Rude. Perhaps she needed to be grounded.

“And you want to be like me? No friends, cooped up in the house, only a— as you always say, grumpy old man— to hang out with? That’s just lame, kid.”

Before she could retort, he rose from his seat. “Eat that,” he said, pointing to her plate of rice before leaving her to mull over his words in the privacy of her room. If rationality didn’t do the trick, the reminder of how pathetic it was to hang out with someone kids saw as a fucking fossil might.

————

Her

“Miller.”

He grunted that old man grunt and stepped ahead, taking the writing pad from her and scribbling his signature on the sheet under today’s date. She took the pencil back from him quickly, placing it back on the pen stand from which one too many pens and pencils had gone missing. People hadn’t left behind the habit of stealing stationery even after the apocalypse.

Rifles slung over their shoulders, they walked side by side. His condition was much improved compared to the day he came back to Jackson with his kid in tow. But he still walked slowly, his gait betraying whatever injuries he had incurred on his journey to Jackson, on his journey the past 20 years. Despite it all, he still appeared strong and powerful in a way that made everyone understand how he had survived everything without the protection of a community.

He hadn’t spoken to her much, thank goodness. He would show up at her door for medicines and checkups for his reluctant kid who dragged him in for his own treatments. She didn’t talk to him much then, the girl did the talking for him whether or not he wanted it. The girl was annoying unlike her father, asking questions she shouldn't ask a little too easily. Like she was merely asking what day of the week it was. Thankfully, he was always there to correct his daughter and apologize to her before she continued treating them.

She kept her eyes on the route, holding the oil lamp in her hand as they looked for potential danger. She was alert, wide awake, despite the sleeplessness and the amount of alcohol she’d had at family dinner. Her feet took her along the familiar path, the couple thousand nights of patrolling etched into her muscles in a way that she was sure she would circle this path even if she became infected.

He was an altogether different story. He was alert, yes. But it was excessive. His gun always pointed to shoot, his backpack loaded with more ammo than anyone else on patrols, his eyes wild and desperate like he had something precious to protect. He flinched at every noise, pointed his gun at rabbits who minded their own business and trembled as he lowered his gun before holding it up again when there was another noise. She couldn’t say she didn’t recognize the behavior. He did have a lot more to protect unlike her.

He had a bigger family— a brother, sister-in-law and soon a nephew or niece. And there was his daughter of course. Maybe he had a wife at some point. Maybe he lost her to this world like they all lost someone. Maybe she was what made him so rigid, so untrusting, so silent. She pictured him, younger with dark hair and clear skin, eyes as dark as they were now as the time this hypothetical wife was taken from him. There was a tinge of shame in his eyes, the very shame he saw him carry as his teenager complained to her about him skipping medicines and working too much in her home turned clinic. The very shame she caught just then as he pointed his gun at a housecat that had wandered out a little too far.

“You shoot that cat and her 5 year old will make you wish you were never born,” she remarked, cursing herself as soon as she said it. He already looked like he wished he was never born. She didn’t want to make him sadder and more pathetic than he already appeared to be.

To her surprise, he chuckled. “That’s one way to get kicked out of Jackson.”

He wouldn’t be expelled over a cat. He’d have to apologize profusely to the little boy for killing his cat and make up for it in some way. But he wouldn’t be kicked out. But she could understand the anxiety. Even after becoming a permanent member of this place, she was afraid she might make a mistake that would force them to throw her out.

“Yeah. Wouldn’t want to lose our wonderful contractor,” she joked instead.

“You’ll still have Tommy.”

“Yeah, but Tommy needs his assistant,” she quipped, knowing very well that the older Miller was the leader among the two. “Someone to stand by and hand him things.”

He simply smiled, deepening the lines on his face.

“How long have you been here?” He asked, surprising her. He never asked her personal questions, only questions related to their patrol. There were the empty pleasantries when he showed up at her door for treatment of course, but they didn’t count.

“The whole time. Born in Wyoming. I lived in Baltimore for a while for medical school. Then I moved to DC for my husband’s job. But, I made my way back here after it started. I was hoping to find my parents, but… Well, you know that goes. What about you?” She asked, knowing that he was from Texas. But anything she didn’t already know about him was too complex, too private.

“Texas. Grew up in Arlington, moved to Austin. Went to many places after the outbreak but I was in Boston until I came here.”

“That’s a long way to travel, especially with a kid. Must have been hell.” A hell that I know too well, she thought but didn’t voice. None of her business. Maybe his journey was like hers. Maybe the darkness in his eyes, like her own, was from the unspeakable things parents did to protect their children. She didn’t need to know the specifics to recognize it.

Silence once again filled the space between them and her shoulders slumped in relief. It was emotionally draining to keep up a conversation that wasn’t about someone's health, medicines or diet. Even more so to have conversations after the sun went down and darkness enveloped not just the night sky but her mind.

“You’re a doctor.”

“Yeah, Miller. Want something checked out?” It was the first thing people wanted from her. It wasn’t too different from random uncles and cousins showing her their weird mole and asking for medical advice at the Thanksgiving table. It was annoying and remained annoying, but she understood that people had to ask now.

“What kind of doctor?”

“Back then? Cardiothoracic surgeon— so like, heart lungs and everything in the chest area. Now, fucking everything except dermatology. So I can help with anything except if you want tret for that face.”

“You a shrink too?”

She couldn’t even deal with her own goddamn problems. What made this man think she could listen to others’? It was nice that he bothered to ask. Others did not. When she put stethoscopes on hearts and listened for issues, people took it as permission to vent about every single worry. Nightmares, pain, relationship problems, fucking everything.

“I don’t know. You don’t seem the type to go to a shrink.”

“It’s not for me.”

“Ah.”

“I’m not. I know too little about the human mind. I did a few psychiatry rounds back in med school, but that was all. But people talk to me all the time. I…” she sighed and leaned on a nearby fence. It was a painful admission, but she would say it if it would help this man and his little girl. If there was one thing she was certain of, it was that he was a parent and parents would do fucking anything for their kid.

“I know this ain’t your job. And I don’t need to see your fucking graduation certificate or know how many mental patients you had. All I know is that when my wife died, my daughter spoke to a therapist and she became better. Can you do that for Ellie? Just talk to her. I know you don’t take payments for seeing patients, but I’ll pay. I have connections. Anything you want from outside, I’ll go get it. Oxy, hydro, you name it.”

He wasn’t like the others in Jackson. While the people in Jackson lived, he survived. He was from out there where everything had a price. Even a life. She knew how to work with that. She’d talk to his kid, help her out in whatever way she wanted and ask him for a favour in return. There was a simplicity to it that the people of Jackson did not understand. They did not trade within. They simply did shit out of what seemed like the goodness of their stupid hearts. All that did was keep her in their debt forever. With this man, there would be a clear payment and no guilt.

“I have oxy, better than anything you can get. I have suppliers I trust. We can even treat diabetes here. Can get glasses too. If you’re offering to trade, offer something better.”

“What do you want?”

A house.

“I don’t know. I’ll think of something,” she lied. It was hard to ask. Hard to open her mouth and say she wanted something. “But you don’t need to make Ellie wait until then. She can talk to me about anything that’s bothering her when she feels ready. Talking is good. It’s like throwing your shit into a void. So if your daughter needs a void…”

He nodded and the deal was struck.

[memoria-99]

So I'm quite surprised to see pronounciation differs after seeing this post

Here's how I pronounce...

Elias Goldstein: Eh-li-as Gold-stahin(like, style without l sound + sign without s. Like Einstein and Frankenstein)

Luca Orlem: Lu-ka Or-lem

Yukiya Reizen: Yoo-kee-yah Rai(like rice goes)-zehn

Klaus Goldstein: (Santa) Claus

Randy March: Ran-dee March(3rd month of the year)

Serge Durandal: Surge(like surgery) Dew-ran-dal

Azusa Kuze: Ah-zoo-sah Koo-zeh

Joel Crawford: Joe-l Craw-ford

Vincent Knight: Vincent Night

Leon: Leh-on

Cerim Leiado: Seh-rim Lay-ado

Guy Brighton: Guy Bright-un

Glenn Qing: Glen Ching (this kind of alphabet is mostly the one from hanyu pinyin, Chinese prounciation. There q equals ch sound.)

Leslie Roseblade: Lehs-lee Rose-blade

Sigurd Curtis: Si(from sick)-guard Cur(from curve)-tis

Mel Glover: Mel(melon) Glove-r

Zeus Brundle: Zoos Broon-dle

Hiro Tachibana: Hero Ta-chi-ba-na

Alfonse Goldstein: Al-fons

Caesar Raphael: Kai-sar(like car) Rafa-el

Lucious Duller: Lucy-us Dool-ler

Hugo Peers: Hew-go Peers

Hisoka Hagakure: Hee-so-ka Ha-ga-ku-reh

Willem V Rembrandt: Will-lem V Rem-brant

Nox Noir: Nox No-er

Rex Blanc: Rex Blahn(g) (Blanc is French so French style)

Gray: Gray

Ted: Ted(dy bear)

Lars Lagrene: Lars(Mars but with m sound) La-gren-eh

Clive Lagrene: Clive (Cliff but with v sound)

Florin Arden: Floor-in Ar-dehn(like Denmark)

Albert Auburne: Al-burt Au-burn

Light Fildora: Light Fill-dora

Felix: Fell-lix

Vain: Vain (like rain)

Viggo: Vigo(rously)

Randolph: Ran-dolf

Conrad Schuyler: Con-rad Sky-ler

Loran Merculova: Lo-ran Mercul(like mercury)-lova

Carbuncle: Car-bunkle

Taffy: Taff E

Ronny: Ron E

Chica: Chi-ka

Mischa: Mee-sha

Chocolate Cake: Chocolate cake

Hachi: Ha-chi

Nidhogg: Nid-hog(like fog)

Shu: Shoo

+

Amelia: Uh-meel-lee-ah

Eress: Eh-ress (Empress without the mp)

Brunhild: Broon-hild

Saella: Say-la

Aulelia: Au-leh-lee-ah

Claudia: Cloud-ia

[locke-writes]

2k Writing Challenge

Sign Ups Open: March 24th, 2023

Sign Ups Close: April 25th, 2023

Writings Due: July 15th, 2023 (can be posted before the due date)

Rules:

Send an ask letting me know that you’re joining

Let me know the character that you are writing for. Must be a character I am familiar with so feel free to ask ahead of time if you are unsure you will be able to write for characters I know

Choose between 1-3 prompts from the below indicating whether they are dialogue or song prompts. You may mix and match between the two (ie. 1 song prompt + 1 dialogue prompt). I’ll then put your url next to the prompt/s you’ve chosen so you can reference this post.

There is no minimum or maximum word count

AUs are more than welcome, just let me know if you’re planning an AU

Make sure to include trigger warnings in your post if they’re needed

Tag Me and DM me a link if I don’t like the post within 24 hours of it being up. Sometimes tumblr is fickle and doesn’t like to notify me of being tagged

You may sign up to write more than one thing however you can’t use the same prompts (ie. if you sign up to write X character with song prompt 3, you can’t use that prompt if you want to write Y character)

Additional questions can be sent through the inbox. Prompts are below

Song Prompts:

Boris - Lo-Fang

People Watching - Conan Gray

If I Get High - Nothing But Thieves

Fair - The Amazing Devil

Saint Bernard - Lincoln

And She Was - Talking Heads

Bulletproof - La Roux

Pierre - Ryn Weaver

Washing Machine Heart - Mitski

brutal - Olivia Rodrigo

Fast Car - Tracy Chapman

Jessie’s Girl - Rick Springfield

Happier Than Ever - Billie Eilish ( @nekoannie-chan / Steve Rogers )

Vienna - Billy Joel

Come Along - Cosmo Sheldrake

Kiss Me - Sixpence None the Richer

Seventeen - MARINA

Sofia - Clairo

Your Stupid Face - Kaden MacKay

Toxic - Britney Spears

All These Things That I’ve Done - The Killers

Movement - Hozier

Motion Sickness - Phoebe Bridgers

End of Beginning - Djo

Liability - Lorde

Little Lion Man - Mumford & Sons

bad idea! - girl in red

The Adults Are Talking - The Strokes

Just Like Heaven - The Cure

9 Crimes - Damien Rice

Dialogue Prompts

“I couldn’t stop loving you, even if I tried. And I did try for some time. But it didn’t work.

“We all have secrets, don’t we”

“After all you’ve done, how can I trust you?”

“I trust you. I just don’t trust them.” ( @nekoannie-chan / Steve Rogers)

“You’re the only person I would do this for”

“I know this isn’t what you want to hear”

“What are you doing with that knife?”

“I think you need a hug”

“I smell something burning. Are you sure you don’t need help?”

“Don’t worry, you’re safe with me”

“Didn’t I tell you to bring a jacket?”

“No! You are not getting me sick!”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Excuse me, that joke was terrible”

“Let me get the first aid kit again”

“You aren’t dying, you just stubbed your toe”

“Who made you cry and where can I find them?”

“Go to bed, you need sleep.”

“It’s not breaking and entering if I have a key”

“Can’t believe I let you drag me into this” ( @kjs-s / Foggy Nelson)

“If the sun isn’t up, then I am not up”

“Trust me it looks worse than it is”

“Act like we’re dating, I see my ex” ( @kjs-s / Foggy Nelson)

“It’s always going to be you”

“Please don’t set off the fire alarm again”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“No way, you’re taking a break and that’s final”

“You take care of everyone but who takes care of you”

“We promised not to tell that story to anyone”

“Stay there, I’m on my way”

[monsieur-lemort]

♱ MUN MUNDAY ⟢ KAY’S COMFORT LIST

comfort food(s): fried catfish, hot and sour soup, cookies & cream ice cream, bbq nachos, mom’s taco salad, spicy tuna roll

comfort drink(s): chai latte, grapico (grape soda), earl grey tea, coca cola with so much crushed ice, lemon water.

comfort movie(s): Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl, P.S I Love You, The Lost Boys, Peter Pan (Disney animated), Beauty and the Beast

comfort show(s): Versailles, Supernatural, Penny Dreadful, The Mandalorian

comfort clothes: my black sweatpants I’ve had for 10 years I got on a whim at the beach, camo Old Navy Hoodie, Black Parade MCR shirt, oversized Ireland rugby shirt, fuzzy “Cat Mom” socks.

comfort song(s): Landslide by Fleetwood Mac, The Scientist by Coldplay, Someone, Somewhere by Asking Alexandria, Vienna by Billy Joel, and honestly entire Black Parade album by My Chem

comfort book(s): The Vampire Lestat by Anne Rice, Prisoner of Azkaban, The Cruel Prince by Holly Black, Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens.

comfort game(s): Spiritfarer, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Assassins Creed (Valhalla and Syndicate), Animal Crossing: New Horizons.

[dorothydalmati1]

Obscure Animation Subject #40: Neighbors from Hell

Originally posted on Twitter on March 19, 2023.

Created by Pam Brady, written by Paul Alexander and Paul Mendelson and directed by John Rice and Raymond S. Persi, it is produced by Wounded Poodle, DreamWorks (credited as MoonBoy) and 20th Century Fox Television.

It aired for one season of 10 episodes from June 7 to July 26, 2010, the first episode aired on Cartoon Network via the Adult Swim programming block while the rest aired on TBS. Animation is mainly produced by Bardel Entertainment, though retakes are done by Bento Box.

It should be noted that this is the first production to have involvement from Bento Box Entertainment, a then-new studio founded in 2009 by executive producers Scott Greenberg, Joel Kuwahara and Mark McJimsey, and would later be known for producing Bob's Burgers for Fox.

This show is about a family from hell being sent back to earth on a mission to destroy a drill that can dig to the Earth's core where Satan fears that the humans will invade Hell if the drill reaches it. Sounds interesting and action-packed in concept, but in execution, well, this acts like yet another GENERIC FAMILY SITCOM! We have the idiot father, drinking wife, a daughter who wants attention and the son, well he’s just like his dad. Oh yeah, we also have a talking dog because Family Guy also had one! Oh god when do these Family Guy clones end?!

The comedy (while there are occasional laughs) is rather sour as well, with forced and cliche jokes, and the animation, which while not copying Family Guy, is mediocre and rather stiff. It’s formulaic and unfunny and I recommend skipping this one. Huge wasted potential!

[hallmark-movie-fanatics]

SKYLER SAMUELS, EVAN RODERICK AND MARILU HENNER STAR IN ‘AURORA TEAGARDEN MYSTERIES: SOMETHING NEW,’ A NEW ORIGINAL PREMIERING JUNE 9, ON HALLMARK MOVIES & MYSTERIES

STUDIO CITY, CA – May 10, 2023 – Skyler Samuels (The Meg 2: The Trench, “The Gabby Petito Story”), Evan Roderick (“Autumn in the City,” “Hidden Jewel”), Marilu Henner (“A Kismet Christmas,” “Haunted by Murder: An Aurora Teagarden Mystery”) star in “Aurora Teagarden Mysteries: Something New,” a new original premiering Friday, June 9 (9 p.m. ET/PT), on Hallmark Movies & Mysteries.

Post-college, Young Aurora Teagarden (Samuels) finds herself back home near her mother, Aida (Henner) in Lawrenceton to pursue her grad degree. Working as a teacher’s assistant in a crime fiction class, Aurora is struggling to settle on a thesis. To support her schooling and life, Aurora also waitresses at the local diner at night, where she shares her love of researching true crime with her friend Sally, who is set to be married, and police officer Arthur (Roderick). When Sally’s fiancé doesn’t show up at the wedding rehearsal, Maid of Honor Aurora gets Arthur to help her search for him. When they discover a body, everyone assumes it is Sally’s tardy groom, but when it turns out to be someone else, Sally’s fiancé becomes the main suspect.

“Aurora Teagarden Mysteries: Something New” is from Muse Entertainment. Joel S. Rice, Charlaine Harris, Teena Booth and Aren Prupas are executive producers. Charles Cooper serves as producer. Michael Barbuto and Allen Lewis serve as supervising producers. Jessica Harmon directed from a script by Teena Booth.

[vaporwavebeach]

about the blogger meme!!!!

Thanks for the tag @finniestoncrane u are so swag!!!!

Star Sign(s): Leo sun, Cancer moon, Pisces rising 😎😎 (idk jack shit about astrology LMAO)

Favorite Holidays: it’s a tie between Christmas (bc the vibes are immaculate) or 4th of July (I love summer fr)

Last Meal: chicken cutlets and some leftover rice and veggies

Current Favorite Musician: it’s a tie between Steely Dan and Billy Joel (I’m not beating the Hughie Campbell allegations)

Last Music Listened To: Nice by Duran Duran

Last Movie Watched: Currently watching Noelle (SPECIFICALLY for Bill Hader LMAO) but if that doesn’t count, I saw Wonka yesterday and it actually was pretty good 😭😭

Last TV Show Watched: Rick and Morty LMAO

Last Book/Fic Finished: The Twilight Saga: The Official Illustrated Guide LMAO

Last Book/Fic: a Barry fic I forgot what it was called, but the dynamics go CRAZY

Currently Reading: nothing 😭😭

Last Thing Researched for Art/Writing/ Hyperfixation: idk, it all rotates between Barry, The Boys, Hunger Games/TBOSAS, Twilight, Rick and Morty, Papa Louie games or my oc lore LMAO

Favorite Online Fandom Memory: being on call with my homies 😎😎

Favorite Old Fandom You Wish Would Drag You Back In/Have A Resurgence: my Hunger Games era from a decade ago is coming back bc of TBOSAS, but I wish it came back full force instead of little bits and pieces yknow?

Favorite Thing You Enjoy That Never Had an Active or Big "Fandom" but You Wish It Did: Broken Age or Ni No Kuni 😭😭 those were my FAVORITE games back in the day and it’s so hard to find ANYTHING for them

Tempting Project You're Trying to Rein In/ Don't Have Time For: my oc lore 😭😭

Tagging the homies: @luckyspade-8 @pestis-blight @r1ddly @gethrax

[cagesings]

REPOST AND LIST 6 SONGS THAT INSPIRE YOU TO WRITE YOUR MUSE:

1. she used to be mine from w.aitress

i still remember that girl / she's imperfect but she tries / she is good but she lies/ she is hard on herself / she is broken and won't ask for help / she is messy but she's kind / she is lonely most of the time

2. eleanor rigby by the be.atles

picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been / lives in a dream / waits at the window / wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door / who is it for? / all the lonely people / where do they all come from? / all the lonely people / where do they all belong?

3. without a word from a t.ale of two c.ities ( specifically single mom au )

i'd follow you / i'd be selfish too / i'd gladly join you in the grave / but there's a vow i won't betray / she'll never see me walk away / for i was once / where she could be / abandoned young without a home or family / and though my soul / will die with you / our child will not be left alone / to spend a lifetime wondering how / how you could leave / when we need you so much? / how can i live / without feeling your touch? / without asking you why without saying goodbye / without a word

4. uptown girl by bi.lly joel

i'm in love with an uptown girl / you know I've seen her in her uptown world / she's getting tired of her high-class toys / and all her presents from her uptown boys / she's got a choice

5. dust and ashes from n.atasha, pier.re, and the grea.t c.omet of 1812

how did i live? / was I kind enough and good enough? / did i love enough? / did i ever look up and see the moon and the stars and the sky? / oh, why have i been sleeping?

AND LIST 6 QUOTES THAT INSPIRE YOU TO WRITE YOUR MUSE:

1. sylvia pl.ath

“every time someone said i was pretty, i thought of the ugly swarming beneath my clothes.”

2. j.ane e.yre

“i am no bird and no net ensnares me.”

3. nikolos kazantzakis

“she looked like a wounded bird. her smile mingled an ineffable melancholy with its sweetness.”

4. aletta s.

“she is dangerous when she is hurt. she can easily destroy everything around her, but she doesn’t. instead she destroys herself.”

5. anna akhmatova

“i can no longer fly. i, who was winged from childhood.”

tagged by: @heygutlcss

tagging: anyone who hasn’t done this yet!

[xin-chao-asia]

Saturday, March 25

4.5 hour hairy bus ride up to Da Lat, which is 4,900 ft. above sea level. Our driver took every opportunity to pass on the curves, whether it was a scooter with a baby or an oncoming truck. 🙈 Actually a pretty interesting personality test to see how each of us responded. Aaron has bruises on his left thigh from my squeezes. He thought the drive was just fine. Joel is prepping what he's going to say to Tuan ~ not only was the drive unsafe; it was uncomfortable too says he! And Mary Beth? She asked Tuan from mid bus whether the driver had ever been a NASCAR driver or had had a rollover. 🥵😂🫢

Stopped for a bathroom break. Think Tuan was prepping us for the ride. We did a few shots of wild banana seed liquor and some sticky rice steamed in bamboo dipped in sugar, salt and peanut mixture. Fortified!

Another mighty satisfying lunch. Da Lat vegetables are known to be the best in Vietnam. The soil is red here due to the iron in the soil and there are back-to-back green houses for miles.

Watermelon juice

Squash soup with coconut (wish we had the recipe!)

Vegetable curry and chicken curry ~ such great flavors!

Ended the meal with coconut cake and a surprise performance by members of the Lat community. They were the original people in Da Lat (people of the water). The French took over the city in the early 1900's and moved them 12 miles away from the city center. 🥺 The Lat people still have a matriarchal society.

Traditionally, visitors are welcomed to their village with 6 gong players and women dancing around the fire. They're so proud of their gongs which have been passed down from generation to generation.

The men are responsible for putting the babies to sleep with lullabies played on this instrument:

The men also played quite a few songs on the two bamboo instruments

Off to the old world charm hotel for an afternoon nap!

[ramascreen]

First Look Images of Rachael Leigh Cook & Scott Ly in A TOURIST'S GUIDE TO LOVE

Netflix has released these first official images of their new rom-com film A TOURIST’S GUIDE TO LOVE in celebration of the Vietnamese Lunar New Year TẾT that’s happening this Sunday January 22nd.   A TOURIST’S GUIDE TO LOVE    Releasing Globally on Netflix April 27, 2023    DIRECTOR: Steven K. Tsuchida WRITTEN BY: Eirene Tran Donohue PRODUCED BY: Rachael Leigh Cook, Joel S. Rice for Muse…

[potokguy]

Joel S. Rice reading the Final Exam script for the first time: I'm screaming why my name Radish????? 😭

[freeworldallahexecutivembaclass]

Wish me luck I hope this work how many people into my man Jim Rohn kicking that stuff since the 80's you know my mission is to help the people that don't know this stuff and it can help save their lives not the people that know it already like homeless to Harvard or any other ivy league school like Rice University in Houston Texas I used to be on that campus I love the campus life bro you ain't live until you went to college babe get your education you ain't live until you go to college that is the life the place where I'm at looks like a campus but you the territory is very dangerous and yeah check chapter 4 and 5 of communicating effectively for dummies no disrespect to anyone good book I had a conflict resolution class in college so my self schooling now I gave myself courses that I need since I don't network that much I get mines from my studies . La Laker for life and my church is Lakewood church and preacher Joel Osteen and I hope this page save those lost souls that feel too rotten forgotten and beyond redemption beyond saving my page is to help them get back to a good life . Change your life I want the best for you ❤️ true I got love for you in the depths of welfare centers , prisons and your hospital beds I want to see you get healthy and strong and win in life , thank you so much I'm honored .

This is for young mothers without any help in the house feed your babies good food 🥝 so they grow up and play sports and make their mom proud 🪴. It is never too late for your education learn with your kids use free daycare services and self learn any skills you need to increase your value in the employment market .