#one man’s trash is another man’s ‘the reason you didn’t have to fork another $20 for silicone’

[regrettablewritings]

Modern!Jaskier x Reader Ship Meme

Prompts taken from this ship meme

Which one texts like a straight white boy?: Of course it would have to be our resident white boy. It isn’t even that he necessarily means to, there’s just an embarrassing amount of overlap between the messages a straight white boy tends to text, and those of your rising star boyfriend. You’d look more into it if it weren’t for the fact that you know there’s no actual malice in it, and because it’s just so sad that it’s funny. If one were to go into the photos saved on your phone, they would’ve surely come upon an entire album of screenshots you’d taken over the years, from when Jaskier would be on tour without you to when he’d just be resting at home while you were out at work. Things like: “Wat r u up to 2nit, cutie? ;)” “I’m probably just gonna play whatever’s on my Watch Later backlog on youtube until I conk out.” “Wild!!! anyway wat would u do if i was there rn~?” Or “Do u miss me? :(” “Of course I do ya dingus!” “Ok....Can we do a quickie over videochat?” “Jas i’m at the store.” “The point still stands.” Or “Watcha thinkin bout? ;)” “About how The Great Gatsby becoming public domain means there’s nothing stopping anyone from making a drag show interpretation called The Gay Dragsby.” “Aaww w/o me? ;)” “...” “WAIT NO I THOUGT YOU’D SAY YOU WERE THINKING ABOUT ME SHIT NO.” “BUT ACTUALLY DO GO ON IM KINDA INTERESTD.” If it were anybody else, you would’ve blocked them. But this wasn’t anybody else. It was your Jaskier: Your foolhardy, constantly horny, but never-short-of-loving Jaskier. And besides, not for nothing, at least they were something you could get a laugh out of.

Which one cried during a fucking Disney movie?: Once again, Jaskier is the guilty party. It’s no secret that he’s the more emotional of the two of you -- he wore his investment in Titanic with pride, after all. But it is a secret that the particular Disney movie to make him cry was Hercules of all things! Not Bambi, not The Lion King, not even Beauty and the Beast, but goddamn Hercules! (On another note, he also cried to Coco. But that barely counts: Literally everyone and their mother has cried during Coco. The only difference here was that Jaskier could relate to being a young man so in love with music while coming from a family that discouraged the pursuit of it.) This isn’t a knock on anyone who enjoys the movie, mind you, but let’s be honest: Out of the Disney animated canon, Hercules isn’t exactly the most . . . emotionally cathartic or heart-string-plucking of the bunch. But just because it didn’t go out of its way to create a crying frenzy doesn’t mean that it’s lacking in some humanity. It is, after all, still a Disney film. The problem is, Jaskier can’t even quite express why it made him cry the night you both decided to watch it. Maybe it had something to do with a young man most people took as a joke trying to achieve greatness? And to be fair, “Go the Distance (Reprise)” and “A Star is Born” differently when you’ve done some growing . . .

Who put a goddamned fork in the microwave?: It only happened once, but you’d never let him live it down. You like to joke that you’d left him to his own devices for just fifteen minutes so that you could take a shower -- of which was completely true -- and that was all he needed for things to go downhill. Nobody wants to think they’d be in the wrong for trusting a 20-something year-old to not be his usually somewhat distractable self. But that particular day, said 20-something year-old decided to occupy that little spot of time to himself with TV and a plate of leftovers. And normally this would’ve been fine and dandy. But normally, Jaskier would’ve just waited for the food to heat before searching for something to watch. It shouldn’t have been too big of an issue that it went the other way around that day, but apparently it was. As much as he wanted to (which honestly wasn’t by much), Jaskier just couldn’t tear his eyes away from the images flashing on the TV. The baby blues were set on the screen the entire while -- up until he heard a faint popping. Followed by a sound he normally only heard in a cheesy sci-fi movie. The problem was, he wasn’t watching anything even remotely science-fiction-y . . . All you were doing when you exited the bathroom was going to grab your lotion. That was literally all you had any expectations for. What you hadn’t expected to come upon was your boyfriend, hollering and diving over the sofa in order to scramble into the kitchen and stop that strange, not-good-sounding sound. Suffice to say, you had to put your shower on hold; it simply had to wait for you to finish fussing, then again for you to finish laughing your ass off. And again because if you entered the shower still laughing, you’d probably slip and break your head open and then Jaskier would have to deal with another possible emergency caused by himself.

Who does the silly hands-over-the-eyes “Guess who?” thing?: You can both be guilty of it, but Jaskier without a doubt does it more. Sometimes he’ll emerge from “his cave” (aka the little nook in the apartment where he likes to mess around and write lyrics or arrangements) on a break and catch an unsuspecting you sitting on the couch or at the dinner table. Other times, it could just be when he comes back from running some errands or doing a quick interview at the local radio station. You don’t mind it much . . . Especially since you can get a rise out of him by purposefully guessing the wrong person. (“Hmmm . . . Could it be . . . my mail-order husband? Boy, that was quick. And all the way from Russia, too . . .” “Uh, no.” “The milkman, finally accepting my invitation to commence a torrid love affair?” “Okay, you know damn well -- ” “Or better yet: My hopes and dreams have manifested, oh, Waluigi, could it really and truly be you!?” “What in the absolute fuck --”)

Who puts their cold hands/feet on their partner?: Because it’s usually himself who presents as being the more mischievous of the two, and because he tends to run the warmest, it always shocks Jaskier when you decide to play dirty and put your cold limbs all over him. Is it childish? Yes. But are his reactions to the sudden feeling of icy flesh hilarious? Also yes. You love to creep up on him when he’s tuning his guitar or scribbling down lyrics, or just minding his own damn business by trying to actually turn in relatively early for once. You love even more to watch him jolt and release the most high-pitched yip a man of his build could ever even joke about making. You’ll still be laughing about it as he scowls at you, cursing your “ghoul hands” and demanding to know if he’s dating a corpse at this point. Of course, no matter how peeved he might be, you can always count on one other thing from his dramatic reactions: Him huffily grabbing your hands into his own and rubbing them warm, or him forcing a park of fuzzy socks on your feet. And just for extra measure, you can be sure that he’ll spend the rest of the night holding you close or cuddling you -- “For exchanging bodily heat purposes,” he will always reason.

Who had that embarrassing reality TV marathon?: You both are guilty of it, actually. The question should really be, who is the least shameful about it. As with most things regarding a lack of shame, it was, of course, our dear Jaskier. Being a musician with a growing following, the little attention whore just can’t miss out on an opportunity to show himself off to his awaiting public. A rising star with relatability and a taste for trash? People eat that shit up! So you’ve learned to be less surprised every time he decides to liveblog himself watching things like Love Island or any of the 90-Day Fiancee spin-offs. In fact, in more recent times, you’ve come to join in with him, adding your own corresponding Tweets and commentary. Though don’t be too shocked once he starts holding polls and letting the public decide what show the two of you should watch next.

Who laughs more during sex?: You do, completely through Jaskier’s own efforts. Jaskier’s always had a pretty lax view of sex. This didn’t change when he met you, of course, but how he specifically portrayed that laxness did undergo some metamorphosis. Before, the entertainer was much more intent on his bedroom experiences being a display of power and an ability to please. Something dramatic and to be taken seriously. He still sees the importance of satisfaction in the bedroom, mind you, but with you, he can’t help but feel more . . . comfortable. With you, it’s a little more okay if he accidentally makes a dumb noise that in no way can be salvaged as sexy. With you, it’s a little more okay if he struggles to get his or your pants off, or if he struggles with removing your bra. And with you, he’s come to find that he’s a lot more okay with sharing a giggle or being a little more loose about things. It’s fine if your fingers tickle him or if he struggles to think of something proper dirty. But it’s even more fine if you think something he says or does makes you laugh, but not in a way that discredits his efforts. When you laugh, it shows that you’re comfortable with him. Comfortable enough to be with him, and be truly vulnerable. So do forgive him if he can’t help but run his fingers up your sides in a tickling fashion, or sloppily string together an innuendo. He simply loves how golden your laughter sounds, even in the throes of passion, intermingled with sweet whimpers and pleas of his name. How the heave of your chest and rippling of your tummy bumpily sync in with the rhythm of his thrusts . . . He just wants to see your smile, your genuine mirth, and bask in it with you. Besides, it serves as excellent song inspiration for him . . .

Who is the little spoon?: It depends on the sway of the day, really. As a whole, you both take turns without much thought simply because you tend to just fall into your positions. Some days, you just happen to lay into him in a way that makes you the little spoon. Other days, he conks out next to you in a manner that most could consider would make you the big spoon (or jet pack). Neither side really fights how it plays out unless one or the other may feel small and vulnerable, or just plain tired and in need of comfort. You often find yourself playing the role of the more dominating position during those first few days after Jaskier returning home from either a quick tour, or after finishing a long week of hours upon hours in the studio, or whatever kind of press-related nonsense his management team told him he needed to do. For as much as your boyfriend loved the spotlight, the truth was he was still quite capable of burning out and needing time to himself. Or, at the very least, just time with you. Even if that means he’s asleep for most of it, with you clinging to his back as he drifts off into a much-needed sleep. He makes sure to return it tenfold when you need just the same. Sure, your occupation may not be of the same nature as his own, but that didn’t mean you were in any less need of his cuddling. In fact, with him being gone as often as he was, Jaskier couldn’t help but feel almost guilty for not always being able to provide you with the basic comforts of being a constantly present boyfriend. Hence why the moment he would see your fatigued body crossing the threshold of your apartment, he would be all over you, ushering you into a quick shower, followed by a quick and simple dinner or snack, and capped off with him cuddling about you from behind. It didn’t matter if you’d come home right in the middle of a writing frenzy, or even if he’d been in the middle of searching for a breakthrough with an arrangement -- for as vain and bullheaded as Jaskier could be, he knew he owed you at least this much. You already put up with so much of his nonsense; this was quite literally the least he could do, both for you and for himself. Besides, he who was he to fight against the feeling of you wiggling closer into his hold, to deny himself the sound of your soft breathing as you lay yourself vulnerable to him? The fact of the matter is that he simply isn’t. He couldn’t be. Maybe in the beginning when things were still so unsteady and uncertain, but never now, when things had become so . . . well, what he could only describe as being “the both of you”. The both of you, molded and entwined, never wanting to let go. Never planning on it, either.

[junker-town]

12 predictions that will determine the NBA season

Our writers give their NBA predictions at the onset of the season.

Only two months after the Los Angeles Lakers were crowned as champions inside the bubble, a new NBA season arrives with the league returning to home arenas. The NBA is set to play a condensed 72-game schedule as the global pandemic continues to rage on, though there’s hope that the vaccine will be widely distributed in the coming months.

This was the shortest offseason in league history for teams that made a deep playoff run in the bubble. Meanwhile, the teams that didn’t qualify for the season restart haven’t played since March. With superstars like Kevin Durant and Stephen Curry returning after missing all of last season, it feels like so much of this year is unknowable. What we do know going into the season is that the Lakers are strong favorites to repeat.

Before the 2020-2021 NBA regular season gets underway, we asked our staff to predict how this year will go. Picks are being made by writers Sabreena Merchant, Sydney Umeri, Ameer Tyree, Ricky O’Donnell, and Brady Klopfer.

Who will be the No. 1 seed in the West?

Sabreena: The Lakers. At the risk of taking too much away from the preseason, seeing the Lakers scrape and claw to win all four exhibitions makes me think this team has so many non-LeBron players who want to prove something this season. That depth will be hard to contend with during the regular season.

Ricky: The Nuggets. While their defense should take a hit without Jerami Grant, Jamal Murray and Michael Porter Jr. leveling up could mean the Nuggets have the No. 1 offense in the league. With the Lakers and Clippers likely prioritizing rest in the regular season, Denver seems an obvious candidate to jump up to the top seed.

Sydney: The Lakers. While different than last year, the Lakers kept many of their core pieces and substituted them where necessary. With LeBron and AD having great chemistry on-and-off the court, Montrezl Harrell, the reigning 6th Man of the Year filling the spot of Dwight Howard, and the exciting and surprising Talen Horton-Tucker emerging as a force, I think they will be pretty hard to beat.

Brady: The Nuggets. Denver is the only top team in the West that doesn’t have obstacles to overcome. They don’t have a new coach and system like the Clippers. They won’t be resting their top players like the Lakers. They don’t have as much roster turnover as the Mavericks. They have continuity, and can score 120 points in their sleep.

Ameer: The Los Angeles Lakers were favored to win it all after acquiring Anthony Davis and a slew of veterans last season and have made upgrades at multiple positions. LeBron James and AD will do most of the heavy lifting but last year’s top two Sixth Man of the Year candidates — Dennis Schroder and Montrezl Harrell — will set the reigning champs over the top.

Photo by Douglas P. DeFelice/Getty Images

True or false: the Bucks will make the NBA Finals this season.

Sydney: False. The Giannis fan in me wants that to be true, for his sake, but the East is too talented, and I can see Milwaukee making an early playoff exit yet again. Boston, Miami, Brooklyn, and Toronto all have the opportunity to give the Bucks a good run heading into the finals, and unfortunately, I do not think they have what it takes to make it to the finals.

Ricky: False. It would be a great story to see Giannis Antetokounmpo breakthrough to the Finals after committing to Milwaukee long-term, but Mike Budenholzer’s curious playoff decisions and a serious lack of depth are real question marks. It’s true that the Bucks could have an easier path through the postseason this year — the Heat were the worst possible matchup — but I’ll go with the field in the East over Milwaukee.

Sabreena: False. I don’t think the Bucks addressed their weakness of creating offense in the half court with the Jrue Holiday trade, and Mike Budenholzer is still the worst coast atop the East, even if we don’t what Steve Nash is like in this role yet. There’s no reason why the Bucks can’t be a regular-season juggernaut again, but I’ll be thinking about what Bogdan Bogdanovic would have looked like on this team for a long time.

Brady: False. I think the Bucks would be my prediction to win the East, as I really like the Giannis Antetokounmpo and Jrue Holiday fit. But you have to be really good to be favored over the field, and the Bucks postseason foibles don’t allow for that benefit of the doubt.

Ameer: False. I’d believe Milwaukee had it the Bogdan Bogdanovic trade. Adding a player with Jrue Holiday’s defensive versatility to a team anchored by Giannis Antetokounmpo and Khris Middleton is significant, but I’m skeptical about how a off-ball guard rotation of Donte DiVincenzo and Brynn Forbes will pan out. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Bucks were the top team in the Eastern Conference for the regular season, but I’m not buying them as a contender.

Photo by Carmen Mandato/Getty Images

James Harden trade during this season: 76ers or the field?

Sabreena: 76ers. I don’t think a team is offering a better player than Ben Simmons. Daryl Morey has boldly proclaimed that he wouldn’t trade a player before and backtracked very quickly, and he loves James Harden way too much to not pull the trigger later this season once Houston’s asking price has come down. Simmons, Tyrese Maxey, and a sweetener should get the job done.

Ricky: The field. If Houston hangs onto Harden through the year, Philly seems like the most natural trade partner with Ben Simmons going back to the Rockets. But after Daryl Morey’s strong statement that he isn’t trading Simmons, it’s hard to see how that deal goes during this season.

Sydney: The field. I don’t think Harden will end this season as a Rocket, but I doubt he will end it as a Sixer either. To get Harden, the Sixers would have to give up so much, Embiid or Simmons and possibly more. I’m not sure trading away one or more foundational players is the best way to go in exchange for a star that might not be in Philly for the long haul.

Brady: The field. I agree with Ricky that Philly will be the favorite next offseason if Harden makes it through the season without switching teams. But the Sixers are trying out a new coach in Doc Rivers to see if they can make their exciting young core work. I don’t see them abandoning that after a few weeks. Also, Daryl Morey has long been in the business of hoarding draft picks, not dishing them out; I’m not convinced he’d meet Houston’s price.

Ameer: It doesn’t seem like Philadelphia is willing to budge on Simmons but several other Eastern Conference teams looking to make a leap are willing to fork up the necessary assets to acquire Harden. I’m not sure whether it’ll be the Nets, Raptors, or another team that has yet to make itself known as a suitor, but players like Harden aren’t up for grabs often.

Photo by Glenn James/NBAE via Getty Images

Who’s your MVP pick?

Ameer: Luka Doncic cracked the top 20 in points, rebounds and assists last season and is the odds-on favorite to win MVP on plenty of sportsbooks. It’ll be hard for the third-year star to ascend to a higher level but playing without Kristaps Porzingis to start the 2020-21 season can only benefit him. The 21-year-old finished fourth in MVP voting last year. LeBron, AD, and Antetokounmpo getting more help can only improve Doncic’s case.

Ricky: Anthony Davis. An MVP is the one thing missing on Davis’ resume at this point. With LeBron likely waiting until the playoffs to unleash the totality of his talent, Davis should emerge as the Lakers’ representative for the award. After losing out on Finals MVP to LeBron last season, I wouldn’t be surprised if voters give AD a make-up call here.

Sydney: Giannis Antetokounmpo. Yes, again. He is spectacular and truly a force on the court, but also, he is healthy and on the hunt for a championship. If the Bucks do not get a title this year, it won’t be because Giannis didn’t move heaven and Earth to get them one. Throughout the season, his body of work will be a testament to that and will earn him MVP status for the third year in a row.

Brady: LeBron James. This is a pick that will look foolish the first time James does some managing of the load. But after his performance in the bubble, he enters the season as the consensus best player in the world. It’s easier to retain a belt than to steal it. Excluding the bizarre and arguably inappropriate Kobe Bryant storyline, all the narratives that media members used to justify MVP votes for ‘Bron last year will still be present this season. He’s got the belt and the narrative.

Sabreena: Luka Doncic. I think Giannis will be deserving of the award, but I can’t see the voters making him the winner for the third consecutive year, especially since he hasn’t yet won a title. Meanwhile, Doncic will be the alpha and omega for this Mavericks team, especially when Kristaps Porzingis is out to start the year. He’ll be able to pad his stats to an otherworldly total. Doncic will also play more minutes than some of the older MVP candidates, and his coronation will be the perfect conclusion of his breakout performance in the bubble.

Photo by Kent Smith/NBAE via Getty Images

Who’s your Rookie of the Year pick?

Ricky: LaMelo Ball. His shooting percentages might be trash, and the Hornets likely won’t win much, but Ball clearly has 20x the starpower of anyone else in this rookie class. He’ll win the award on highlights alone.

Sabreena: James Wiseman. This is another award where voters like raw counting stats, which favors point guards, but LaMelo Ball probably won’t be starting, and Killian Hayes doesn’t exactly have an offense geared towards him in Detroit. I thought about Tyrese Haliburton, but he’ll also be coming off the bench, so Wiseman is the pick for now. He’ll get some shine for playing in a winning situation, and he’ll get a ton of easy buckets and rebounds to pad his box scores.

Sydney: LaMelo Ball. His upside is huge, and he is extremely fun to watch. LaMelo is the Ball brother I can’t help but cheer for. I want to see him be great, and on the Hornets team, he has ample opportunity to do so.

Brady: LaMelo Ball. I think James Wiseman will be the most impactful rookie, but Ball is tailor made for the award. He’ll play 30+ minutes a night, have the ball in his hands, put up gaudy numbers (as long as efficiency and plus-minus aren’t your cup of tea), and be a staple on the nightly Top 10.

Ameer: LaMelo Ball might be at a disadvantage because he’ll kick off his NBA career as a bench player but I think he has the best case for ROY. No other lottery pick is even close to being the top option on their respective teams but Ball’s all-around game and flashy play will make it hard to keep him out of the conversation. No rookie has more triple-double potential than Ball in my opinion.

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One player who will make an All-NBA team for the first time

Ricky: Devin Booker. Booker probably isn’t the best player on his own team anymore with the arrival of Chris Paul, but for the first time in his career the Phoenix Suns should be in the playoffs. Booker showed phenomenal progress during the Suns’ undefeated streak in the bubble. If he keeps it up and Phoenix grabs a spot in the middle of the West playoff picture, the individual accolades will come.

Sabreena: Bam Adebayo. I was tempted to say none, but where’s the fun? Adebayo’s another player who is heading into this season with a lot of momentum thanks to the bubble, and if the Heat finish near the top of the East standings, Adebayo will get a lot o credit.

Sydney: Zion Williamson. Spending most of his rookie season out with an injury, I believe Zion will have more than a few votes this year that will land him on an All-NBA team for the first, and probably not the last, time in his young career.

Brady: Zion Williamson. He’s already one of the league’s best players. Finding space for another forward on the team is always difficult, but he’ll use his superhuman strength to force his way in.

Ameer: The Atlanta Hawks had a tremendous offseason and Trae Young will be running the show after averaging an impressive 29.6 points and 9.3 assists per contest in his sophomore season. I think an All-NBA guard spot could be up for grabs now that Russell Westbrook and Bradley Beal have joined forces and Chris Paul has teamed up with Devin Booker. If the Hawks creep into the playoff picture it’ll be hard to deny a player with Trae’s numbers.

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Which team will finish with the lowest winning percentage?

Sydney: The Cavs. They are young and don’t know what kind of a team they are going to be. The team needs true veteran leadership. Given how young they are, this looks like another building year. A year to get their younger players reps and hopefully land a nice spot in the draft lottery.

Brady: The Knicks. There’s some intrigue in the Knicks young pieces, but they’re gonna rely on RJ Barrett and Obi Toppin to score, play Austin Rivers way too much, play Mitchell Robinson far too little, and have Tom Thibodeau demolish every player’s confidence on a nightly basis. It’ll be fun, in that same way that a Hallmark holiday movie is.

Sabreena: The Thunder. They play in the tougher conference, their bench is absurdly weak, and they’re likely to dump some pieces at the trade deadline to make the team even worse later in the year.

Ameer: The New York Knicks’ best player was Julius Randle last season and they elected to chose a backup for him in the lottery this year. They haven’t addressed their need for a point guard and I can’t see this team being better with teams like the Cleveland Cavaliers and Hawks again. The Detroit Pistons are a close second but a healthier Blake Griffin paired with Derrick Rose and a few experienced veterans is more appealing than any combination of Knicks players for me.

Ricky: The Thunder. There are actually some good players in Oklahoma City this year — Al Horford! George Hill! Trevor Ariza! Shai Gilgeous-Alexander! — but it’s likely several of them are traded in-season as the Thunder are fully committed to a rebuild. Half the roster looks like a G League team.

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Which of these teams will finish with the highest winning percentage: Heat, 76ers, Raptors, Celtics

Brady: The Raptors. I wasn’t here for the Raptors disrespect a year ago, and I’m not here for it now. Until Kyle Lowry starts slowing down, Toronto should still be near the top of the East. Boston should be comfortably better in the postseason, but the loss of Gordon Hayward and injury to Kemba Walker will hurt them in the standings.

Sydney: The 76ers. I’m trusting the process and going with Philly. That’s if they don’t trade away any of their major players. With a new front office, new head coach, and a roster more suited to highlight and strengthen Embiid and Simmons, I think they will have a solid year and will be tough for other teams to handle.

Sabreena: The Heat. This team is the most complete of the four, assuming Kemba Walker misses significant time, and they just know how to play together now after the bubble run. They’ll get off to a faster start, giving them a little breathing room at the end of the year.

Ameer: Miami has the same nucleus it won a championship with last year and I don’t expect them to have to make many adjustments. The Toronto lost two key bigs while Boston parted with Gordon Hayward. The like the Heat to finish third behind the Nets and Bucks.

Ricky: Raptors. Toronto won nine more games than the Heat last year, 10 more games than the Sixers, and five more games than the Celtics (who start this season without Kemba Walker). While I do think Toronto got a little bit worse over the offseason after losing Serge Ibaka and Marc Gasol, you can bet on Nick Nurse finding a way to win them a lot of games.

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Which of these teams will finish with the highest winning percentage: Trail Blazers, Jazz, Suns, Warriors

Sydney: The Jazz. They have all the pieces to make this season a good one. Donovan Mitchell is back. Rudy Golbert is also back. They have also added a few new additions to the team, but overall they have the chance to pick up where they left off last season and sore.

Brady: The Warriors. I think Utah might be the safe pick here, but the NBA is still a league driven by superstars, and the Warriors have one of the very best. Golden State will go as for as Steph Curry will take them, and that is usually pretty far.

Sabreena: The Blazers. I really like Portland’s depth after this offseason, and that will make them a tough out every night in the regular season. The Blazers have also finished third or eighth each of the past four seasons, and this feels more like a third-place team than one eking its way into the playoffs again.

Ameer: The Jazz took a major step forward by adding Bojan Bogdanovic in free agency last offseason and could benefit from having a healthy Mike Conley this year. Utah improved its backcourt depth by retaining Jordan Clarkson and added Derrick Favors to the frontcourt rotation. It had same record as last year’s fourth seed I can’t see any of the other team’s mentioned knocking them down a peg at full strength.

Ricky: Jazz. While I was extremely tempted to pick the Suns here, Utah just seems like a safer bet overall. They won nine more games than anyone else in this group last year and brought back basically the entire roster. Donovan Mitchell and Rudy Gobert is a pretty damn good 1-2 punch.

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What’s the Nets’ ceiling as presently constructed?

Sabreena: NBA champ. The last time Kevin Durant played, he was unguardable, and the rest of the offensive talent on the Nets is pretty impressive, too. There’s a chance they’re simply too explosive for any defense in the league.

Ricky: Conference champion. KD looked awesome in the preseason coming back from the torn Achilles, and there’s more depth here than people realize. I do have questions about the defense, and I doubt they could beat the Lakers in a seven-game series, but an NBA Finals run wouldn’t surprise me.

Sydney: First round of the playoffs. The Nets are looking good right now, but it’s so early. They have to stay healthy, and they have to get along, specifically Kyrie and KD. Health is the most important, but we have all seen what it is like when KD and Kyrie do not get along with their teammates. It’s not pretty.

Brady: NBA champion. Do I think it will happen? No. But they have arguably the greatest scorer in NBA history, next to one of the best scorers in the league, surrounded by shooters. The sky is the limit, even if there’s a high chance of it exploding.

Ameer: The Nets are built like a powerhouse team. While many are skeptical about their defense I feel like their depth on offense is enough to take them to the NBA Finals. If Kevin Durant and Kyrie Irving are healthy for the most part Brooklyn can reach the final stage.

Mark J. Rebilas-USA TODAY Sports

Pick one for NBA champion: Lakers or the field.

Ricky: Lakers. Part of this is because I consistently picked against the Lakers last year and they made me look dumb as hell. Part of this is because they (probably?) upgraded a roster that already looked dominant in the bubble. While their shooting might take a step back, the defense will be as good as ever. As long as LeBron and AD stay healthy, the Lakers are clearly the team to beat.

Sydney: The field. The Lakers are talented, but it is hard to repeat. LeBron and AD will put on a show for sure, but something tells me a team from the East will take it from them this year.

Brady: The field. This is nothing against the Lakers, but the field is almost always the right pick. There are too many championship-caliber squads to give a team relying an a player in his 18th season and an injury-prone big man more than a coin’s flip chance.

(Sabreena refuses to tempt fate)

Ameer: Only a major midseason trade could make me think there’s a team capable of knocking off the new-and-improved Lakers. Short layoff or not, Los Angeles has the best roster in the Western Conference and has a good chance to repeat as champs barring any major injuries or blockbuster deals.

Give me your hottest take for a preseason prediction

Brady: Jayson Tatum takes the age leap and is no longer 19 years old when the season ends. More seriously, I’ll say that the Western Conference Finals will include a team that isn’t the Lakers, Clippers, Nuggets, or Mavericks.

Ameer: My hot take preseason prediction is that Ben Simmons will make more than 20 three pointers this season. We haven’t seen tape of him shooting from range at open gyms this offseason but I’m buying that he would’ve been willing to attempt more heaves from deep in the playoffs had he not suffered a season-ending knee injury. Daryl Morey’s influence has to come into play here after leaving a Houston Rockets team that hoisted more threes than anyone.

Ricky: I know I pegged AD for MVP, but I want to throw out a YOLO (people still say that, right?) pick for Nikola Jokic to win Most Valuable Player. If the Nuggets get the No. 1 seed and finish with the top overall offense, he should have a terrific case.

[swag--hudson]

Everything Wrong with Netflix's version of Death Note

(This will be step by step while I watch it)

OBVIOUSLY IT CONTAINS SPOILERS This also does not cover the white washing or anything beyond the story/plot of the movie. Obviously the white washing was reason enough to not watch this disaster but my curiosity got the best of me.

1) who is that girl with dark hair? Is that supposed to be misa..:? If so, why does she seem to have no interest in light at the beginning? 2) Light is a little wuss; normally he would be able to talk himself out of every situation or not be involved with the bullying at all. 3) this principle is a huge dick + why the fuck doesn’t he go after the dude that knocked Light’s lights out? 4) holy shit, lights little bitch scream + freak out in detention 5) why are you hitting yourself? 6) ryuk is the green fucking goblin apparently 7) I personally don’t think light would kill a bully, he tends to go after people who are real criminals, not emotionally compromised teens 8) why the fuck would he go right for decapitation? 9) who is going to clean up that classroom? 10) why didn’t he get in trouble if it was that much of a mess? 11) light’s relationship with his dad is bad. In the anime all he cared about besides becoming the world’s new god + getting rid of baddies was his family. 12) Light’s still afraid of Ryuk after the first meeting… even though an apple rolled out of the opposite side of the room he showed up in to make sure that he was introduced (again). 13) Light doesn’t seem to have a sister so far, and his mom is dead. Sure, it gives him motivation to use the Death Note but they haven’t touched upon the real reason (he was bored) which makes him seem more justified. Which isn’t the point of Death Note. Light’s supposed to be morally compromised. 14) his last name is Turner instead of Yagami 15) he fucking had the death note when “Mia” comes to talk to him and he friggin shows her it. What the fuck, why would he do it? He even showed her that he killed that bully. Light never would have done that. Ever. 16) he shows her how it works + fucking kills in front of her!!!!! 17) he actually likes misa instead of being a bag of dicks and showing everyone that he’s a manipulative asshole like he’s supposed to be. We’re not supposed to like this jerk. Although I think I liked him better in the anime compared to this little bitch 18) he hasn’t used the heart attack Death yet, he’s mostly done accidents, which doesn’t fit his MO 19) he fucking outs himself for recognition by making people write in Japanese instead of just keeping quiet and going about his business. Sure, Light has an ego but he wouldn’t want to have people investigating him. 20) L actually goes to a crime scene. He wouldn’t risk that, even if he was wearing a mask. 21) the fuck are those light up sun glasses and why does he ask people to sing a weird ass song for him? 22) Light is out as pro Kira immediately to his dad, making him suspicious. I recall him playing devils advocate and saying that Kira has a point, but that Kira needed to be stopped in the anime. 23) L doesn’t mask his voice on video chat 24) the justice for the wicked website looks like Reddit or four chat. Some shitty, non gothic or scary looking site 25) Light is too emotionally compromised by “Mia”, why the hell is he so enthralled with her? 26) the police chief immediately meets with L in person 27) “please James, have a seat. Rest your glutes.” 28) WHAT THE FUCK, WHY IS THE ACTUAL L HOLDING A PRESS CONFERENCE!?!?!? 29) Light is being creepy with his dad. Immediately asks about L. Tries to spin it light L is Kira instead. Then proceeds to ask what would happen if Kira was caught. 30) Light wears sunglasses at dusk/night 31) “it’s my book” says light, who suddenly turned into a 4-year-old 32) Ryuk kills all the FBI agents. He wouldn’t interfere with Light’s plans or help in any way usually. That, and he keeps telling Light to give the notebook up. 33) Light’s dad went on tv with his name + face. Light basically gives himself away by not killing him. I don’t recall that happening in the anime at all, if I’m wrong please feel free to correct me. 34) idk why but Ryuk’s head looks huge compared to his body. 35) pulling a fork out of a holder makes the same sound as a knife apparently 36) Light had a temper tantrum in front of L for a few seconds and then gives him a creepy face. He basically tells L he’s Kira by submitting to playing “the game”. 37) Watari goes missing to go get L’s name for Light. It tips L off big time. 38) L gets over emotional, goes after Light. light’s dad threatens to kill L. What the fuck? 39) Ryuk isn’t interested in light’s game at all. He just wants to give the notebook to someone else or kill Light. 40) no mention thus far of shinigami eyes 41) Light wears a fucking top hat at one point 42) the Wammy house is abandoned, leaving me to believe that there will be no Near later on in this shit show 43) the homecoming picture scene. Seriously. What the fuck was Light doing? 44) Light leaves his locker open, another dumb picture inside 45) Watari is found in Wammy house, doesn’t tell Light L’s name + is shot by people looking for him (deployed by L) because “Mia” wrote it in the death note. Upside is that she calls Light a pussy. 46) “Mia” reveals that she killed all the FBI agents + is way smarter than Light. She even tries to kill him so she can have the Note book. The reason that I put this on the list is because there’s no way the normal misa was this smart + a bad ass. As far as this Netflix series goes, I’m all for her killing pussy-light. 47) really bad remix of L’s original theme 48) despite trying to kill Light, Mia still warns him about the cops. 49) L can’t drive for shit and almost hits innocent people on the sidewalk while screaming. 50) wow that’s a lot of trash bags in that one ally way 51) L said he didn’t carry guns earlier because they’re distracting. L later points a gun while yelling “Light”. 52) Light isn’t at all like his character in the anime. He never manipulates people to the extent that he was previously able to. He also never befriends L, which probably turned out to be the worst thing for him. 53) Light fucking decides to explain the notebook to L before some dude in an apron beats L with a wooden beam. Said man then says “Lord Kira” and let’s Light go. 54) Light’s last stand is in a Farris wheel 55) Light thinks he can somehow run away from everything when he’s literally stuck in Farris wheel surrounded by cops 56) Light put Mia’s name in the book that said she’ll die if she takes it from him; wrongly predicts that he can convince her not to take it. Ends up being some fucked up farris wheel Romeo and Juliet ending with bad music. 57) mia lands in fucking flowers while Light lands in water even though they fell from the same point 58) L is perfectly fine even though he had his head smacked with a beam hard enough to knock him out 59) the Note that says that Light will die conveniently lands in a burning trash can + that means he still lives. L gets fired or something. 60) Light is in a coma but doesn’t seem to be guarded by police even though it was pretty clear he was Kira. Someone sneaks in and gives him the death note back 61) dad knows he was Kira but doesn’t really do anything 62) inappropriate theme music and inappropriate time 63) some of the above comments are solved through a really shitty explanatory Death Note entry 64) L’s laugh and then immediately sad look 65) it ends with so many questions + really sucky and inappropriate song still playing.

66) neither L or Light really win- Light doesn’t die/ get thrown in jail on screen and L doesn’t die/ catch Light.

[sassphicdragoness]

@l1nkp1t​ tagged me :D Thank you, dearie!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (or however many you have altogether). See if there are any patterns. Then, tag your favorite authors.

So at least half of these will be stuff that I’ve written, and some will be collabs that I’ve done with my partner in crime, @lady-drake​ and have not been published as of yet.

--

1.) Untitled Prompt - F!Corrin x F!Robin

“I’m still not sure if I can do this… what if he says no?”

“Then he’s an idiot, or it’s just not meant to be. There are other fish in the sea, Corrin.”

‘Like me…’

“I know… I’ll try not to get my hopes up to much. But fingers crossed, right?”

2.) In Sickness - Silas x F!Corrin

“Ah-choo!”

“Bless you.”

Corrin blew her nose for the umpteenth time that day, and then sniffled hard as she pulled the handkerchief away. She offered her thanks and collapsed onto the chair across from her husband, her arms folding on the small table. She rested her chin on her hands while Silas reached over to caress her face. “You’re not getting sick, are you?”

3.) Untitled Prompt - Chrom x F!Robin

If anyone had told Robin that she would be propositioned by one of the most popular guys in their school, she would’ve thought they were absolutely off their rocker. As it stood, here she was staring up at the six foot tall pretty boy while he asked for her assistance on schoolwork of all things.

“You’re in all of my classes, and I know you’re the school’s biggest nerd in terms of every subject ever.”

“…How observant of you.”

4.) Villian AU - Link x Pit

To say that the world had been thrown into utter chaos was a gross understatement. The world had been completed trashed and Skyworld wasn’t the only victim.

Hades was long defeated, peace having returned to Skyworld, but in the span of four years, something had gone horribly wrong - and there was no clear answer to the multitude of questions floating around.

All hell had broken loose, yet rumors flew throughout all the realms – Palutena was nowhere to be found, Viridi had been exiled to a distant realm without warning (or she’d at least fled). Hades was still gone as well, but the last person anyone expected had since taken his place.

Pit, former captain of Palutena’s Guard, was now the God of the Underworld (and Skyworld, in extension). Even more terrifying? He had the immense power to back up such a title, taking immediate control of the Underworld, rebuilding that realm’s army. With Viridi and Palutena out of the picture, both the Forces of Light and Forces of Nature had fallen under Pit’s control as well. Like the god before him, Pit spread rumors to the humans below of a certain seed existing that granted all wishes – and sure enough, the humans began to fight fiercely for dominance of a seed that never actually existed in the first place. All the souls lost in battle went to a good cause though: it sustained his troops as well as his own life force.

5.) Rivalry - Link x Pit

Smash Bros. wasn’t just about proving who was the strongest or most powerful fighter. It was mainly a tournament built for uniting warriors from different corners of the world, and naturally, rivalries formed when personalities clashed, egos were bruised, and similar fighting styles were discovered among distinct fighters.

In Link and Pit’s case - how about all of the above.

6.) Master/Pet with Tender Sex - Vaati x Link

‘Master… Master…?’

Carmine eyes slowly opened, meeting with caring blue eyes. A hand combed gently through wisteria locks while the blond stayed kneeled on the floor at the mage’s bedside. It wasn’t like Link to be up this late, and Vaati shifted so he was sitting up, back braced against the elegant headboard.

“Is everything alright, dear?”

7.) Keepsake - Link x Pit

“I don’t want to leave just yet.”

“Me neither. I wish we had more time together, but…”

“…yeah. Time to head back to our respective homelands.”

8.) Guardian Angel - Link x Pit

Being a hero meant facing danger at every possible turn.Sharp wit, quick feet, skilled swordsmanship, and heightened awareness - they all meant the difference between life and death. Link made sure to be careful, but luckily, he had his guardian angel looking out for him.

9.) Caffeine - M!Robin x Dark Pit

Robin may have been a night owl, but he was also a morning person. He was an expert at going to sleep at four in the morning and waking up two hours later to prepare for class. Today was no different – winter break was over, and now he was walking to his first day of classes as a college junior. With his messenger bag strapped across his chest and a small cup of coffee in his hand, the snow-haired male was all smiled as he headed to his first class of the day: English literature.

10.) Nonsexual Acts of Intimacy - M!Robin x F!Corrin ; F!Robin x F!Corrin

Most couples celebrated their anniversary with a fancy dinner date at a romantic restaurant. Robin and Corrin preferred things more simple and sentimental – hence the massive banana split with all the fix-ins sitting on the table for them to share. With fond smiles, they clinked their plastic forks together – “Cheers!” – and dug in.

It was surreal how much time had passed. It felt like it as only yesterday that they were at this very ice cream parlor sharing a sweet treat, and then confessing their immense feelings for one another. Hard to believe that was two years ago – their sophomore year. Now, here they were, enjoying their last ice cream date a week before they were to walk across the stage for their bachelor’s degrees… Time sure did fly fast.

(The following have not be published yet! Numbers 12 - 20 are collabs with Drake!)

11.) Untitled Prompt - M!Robin x F!Robin

“We can put a path through this forest…. that will lead us to this village – we can stock up on rations and supplies… and then travel around this ravine until we reach the bridge…” Amber eyes scrolled carefully across the map, eyeing the red X’s she’d penned with her quill before nodding in approval. “That should do it…”

“Sounds like you have our next route planned out.”

12.) Untitled College AU - M!Robin x F!Corrin

"Third time's the charm, they say..."

Corrin stood outside the building where the first of four classes would start. It was 8:30 bright and early in the morning, and naturally, Corrin was still tired and wished to go back to the comforts of her warm bed. Alas, she had to begin the first semester at her new college after leaving two previous ones. She hoped that Valla University could give her more incentive to stay than her last two colleges could give....

13.) Other Side of the Coin - Chrom x M!Robin x F!Robin

It was over. The battle against the Grimleal had ended with their defeat, and the Fell Dragon was sealed for another thousand years. Ylisse could breathe easy knowing they would be ensured an era of peace thanks to their king and his fellow Shepherds.

But for what would be his greatest victory, and thus celebrated, Robin instead felt a dark shadow looming over him.

14.) Vitriolic - M!Grima x F!Gryma

So this is what it felt like to be banished from your own realm that you worked so hard to conquer, only to have some uppity ass, goody goody dragon god decide that you're too much of a threat and she gives you a choice: die by execution or banishment to a completely different timeline. Obviously, Gryma took the route that ensured she still kept her head on her shoulders, and willingly decided to jump timelines. Wherever she'd ended up clearly didn't result in a victory on the human's side.

Everything was in ruins, the stench of blood hung in the air, the banners of the Royal Ylissean Family hung in dirty tatters from the damaged palace. It was positively a most beautiful sight seeing such death and destruction... But whomever was responsible for bringing down Naga's accursed spiritual descendants was nowhere to be found. Good. That meant this was hers to claim now...

15.) Sensual Seduction - M!Robin x Dark Pit

While Robin was out handling a few things, Dark Pit was left to himself for the next couple of hours in their shared dorm. Said errands apparently didn't require the tactician to wear his usual clothing, which the angel took full advantage of. Once Robin was out of the room, Dark Pit had snatched the signature robe he always wore and threw it on himself. Tossing himself onto the bed, the angel wrapped himself in the coat, bringing the oversized sleeves to his nose and inhaling deeply. Such a pleasant scent of bergamot and ozone from the magic he used, it was a turn-on for the angel, and was the sole reason he stole the coat from time to time. He simply loved Robin's scent and loved how warm said coat was around his lithe body.

16.) Untitled Vampire AU - M!Robin x Dark Pit

Robin really tried not to make a habit out of breaking into others houses in the middle of the night, but circumstances rarely left him any other choice.It was a full moon, his sensitive eyes seeing the faint rays illuminating the streets and roads in a pale blue glow, in areas where streetlights were either burnt out or never put up. It made moving around at night that much easier for him, something he had grown comfortable with in the years where he had to do these "emergency runs". Daytime was approaching in a mere few hours, and he really didn't want to spend a whole day waiting in a shady alley for some unlucky passerby that might never come in order to just go home.

17.) ‘I Unknowingly Slept with my New Boss’ Modern AU - Chrom x M!Robin

Robin wasn't the type of man who believed in luck. Anything that happened in life, good or bad, happened for its own reason and wasn't directly linked to something else that had happened to him before. He worked for what he had, putting one hundred percent into everything he could to live a fairly comfortable life.

However, if there was one thing Robin would wish he could have better luck in, it would have to be romance. He was no stranger to dating, and had one or two fairly steady relationships, but nothing that lasted longer than half a year. Robin wasn't opposed to the life of a bachelor by any means, but once he had known what it was like to be emotionally invested in another human being, he found himself longing for it from time to time after the relationship had since been broken off. One night he found himself beginning to sink into the familiar feeling of loneliness. Rather than let himself be consumed by melancholic memories, he decided to do something productive instead; and as if by chance, that was the same night before his first day at a new job.

18.) Of Lace and Stockings - F!Robin x F!Corrin

"Did you need anything from the store while I'm out, love?" Corrin zipped up her hoodie and tugged her purse over her shoulder, her gaze set upon her girlfriend as she walked over to her desk. Standing behind her chair, she wrapped her arms around Robin from behind and rested her chin on the other girl's shoulder with a soft smile.

"Hmm, I don't think so." Robin paused from her focus on homework and leaned back into Corrin's embrace, a fond look on her face as she tilted her head and matched her grin. "Just remember to grab more milk, we're completely out."

"Already wrote it down on the list." Corrin answered with smug confidence. She covered Robin's lips with her own in a sweet kiss and a firm squeeze around her shoulders. "Should only take me an hour to get everything." With that, she left one more kiss on her cheek before separating from her and heading out the door.

19.) Silence is Not Always Golden - Link x Pit

'Going to a new school in a new town... how cliche is this day going to be?' Pit laughs to himself. Though he might have been joking, he wasn't too far off the mark - He, his brother and their mom had just recently moved from their old home to a new place in the countryside a few towns over. It was different than the urban setting he was used to, but he liked it - mainly for the reason that there was a better chance for him to actually spread his wings for a change.

20.) Fated Childhood - Silas x F!Corrin

"I think we should be safe to travel through the Wind Village.... Hopefully we won't run into any Norhian forces along the way." Corrin's hand still gripped her blade tightly, crimson eyes scanning the barren horizon of the desert-like village ahead. She turned her head toward her freshly recruited childhood friend with a concerned expression, and asked, "Do you know if King Garon may have sent anyone in this direction?"

"It's possible. We'll want to keep our guard up until we know we're in the clear." Silas responded after a quick moment of hard thought. One hand tightened its hold on the reigns for his horse and the other on the long pole of the lance he had brought for the mission they were on. He also watched for any signs of Garon's forces, keeping his mount at a steady trot that Corrin could follow. "That being said, I don't like this... doesn't everything seem too still and quiet to you?"

"It does..."

--

THAT WAS REALLY FUCKING LONG YAY. 

As for patterns, I tend to do introductions and opening lines with dialog or as a vague setting before I go into details. I love to give my readers something of a thought-provoking or interesting introduction to really grab their attention and pique their interest, because a title alone shouldn’t be the thing that makes a reader interested  - the intro can’t be generic or cookie cutter. So I always try to avoid that. :D

I’M TOO LAZY TO TAG, STEAL AT WILL LOL

[jozalynsharp]

Mo'Nique and Why She Should Be an Inspiration to Comics Everywhere and My Ex Who Told Me I Wasn’t Funny

      It's December 30th and my fiancee and I are filing into the MGM Garden Arena for the John Mayer/Dave Chappelle show. The energy in the room is vibrant. John comes out, plays some songs, and speaks on music with an expertise that made me fall in love with him as an artist all over again. Then Dave comes out. You can taste it in the air. Everyone in that room knows that someday they'll be telling their children about this experience. Dave tells 25 minutes of jokes then brings up the Netflix pay scandal. And he says to a sold out arena that "Mo'Nique is a legend.". After this weekend, I don't see how anyone can disagree with him. 

      I have been a fan of comedy my whole life. I have quite a few influences, but very few female ones. One of the biggest reasons I could even picture myself doing stand-up at all was Mo’Nique. When my friend found out what Mo'Nique meant to me he got me a ticket to see her new residency at the SLS.        Some of you are reading this confused because you don't know what she means to this metal music loving, comic book collecting, video game playing, raw comedian. If you can’t really wrap your head around it, it probably means you have never seen Mo'Nique LIVE in her element. And shame on you for having preconceived notions about me.

      When I was in my early 20's I was in a bad way. I had lost all self worth, was gambling in excess, and had garnered myself an opiate addiction. I was in a relationship that had me so down on myself, had me believing I was so worthless, I had begun to live my life as such. I stole Vicodin from wherever I could find it just so I could numb myself to the fact that I couldn’t find anything to love in the mirror anymore. I was adrift and I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, but I knew I loved comedy. I would watch hours of stand-up comedy and it would be my reprieve from the constant barrage of negative inner thoughts. I had been telling stories with my girlfriends one night, doing my best to make them laugh, and my oldest and dearest friend interrupted me. Her tone of voice would have made a lightbulb spontaneously appear over her head if we had been in a cartoon she sounded so revelatory. She pointed at me and said: “You should do stand-up comedy!”. And it clicked. That’s exactly what I wanted to do. Once I figured out how to make people laugh, I was always chasing the next punchline way before I even recognized what I was doing. I wasn’t ever the pretty girl or the popular girl. I was the smart girl. I hated being the smart girl. People just want to cheat off your paper and they only want to be your friend in class in case there’s a group project. And no one especially wanted to dry hump the smart girl, and that’s all I wanted out of a Friday night at 17. I knew that people that made me laugh made me want to dry hump. I knew that people who made me laugh made me feel butterflies. I also knew the feeling of making people laugh was like being dry humped by the whole offensive line on Homecoming night. I wanted people to see me and say I was the funniest girl they knew, but I was horrendously shy outside of my extra-curricular theater activities. Although I wanted to be clever and tell stories and make everyone laugh, my severe lack of confidence meant I only showed that side of myself to my closest friends. Add a unibrow and some very poor fashion choices to that mix and I wasn’t exactly screaming anything but “dork”. My friends loved me though. My family loved me. There was always someone around who would laugh at whatever commentary I was spewing or story I was re-enacting. So when my dearest friend, my most practical and level-headed friend, looked me right in my eyeballs and said: “You should do stand-up comedy.”. My heart exploded. The gears in my head all felt like they clicked into place. Not only had someone validated me as funny verbally for one of the first times in my life, but someone had also presented an idea so out of the realm of my reality that was exactly what I wanted out of life. Make people laugh every night onstage for my job? Um, YES PLEASE. Where do I submit my resume? Unfortunately in stand-up, there is no application. It is a sea of possibilities of ways to start and each one is more daunting than the next. So I decided to present this new dream to my boyfriend at the time. We had an extremely unhealthy relationship due to him being too young to take responsibility for the fact that he pressured me into a relationship he didn’t actually want to be in anymore, and I didn’t want to look myself in the mirror and admit just how wrong we were for each other. I had allowed myself to come to a place where one man had torn me down emotionally so severely that I didn’t even realize how abusive it was until I relayed the stories to people who loved me later. Now, don’t jump to crucify him. We were young, and everything about our relationship was wrong from jump. But that’s a story for another day. I remember looking across the table of a BJ’s Restaurant & Brewery at him. This was someone I thought I loved, and I was still so naive and young to think that people will behave the way they’re supposed to and not the way they are going to. As I’ve gotten older I’ve realized these are two very different things. I pushed my fries around on my plate and finally worked up the courage to say it. I couldn’t really bring myself to look at his face. I knew in my heart of hearts that whatever came out of his mouth following whatever I had to say would hurt me, because after a year together, I was finally starting to realize the difference between “supposed to” and “going to”. I faked nonchalance and spoke as if it was a silly idea I was presenting for conversation’s sake. “I’m thinking of trying stand-up comedy.”, and I laughed nervously waving my fork around to punctuate “stand-up comedy”. He didn’t even look up from his food. His body didn’t react. He only shoved another forkful of food into his mouth and said through a twice baked potato: “Why? You’re not funny.”. And then I thought to myself: “Well he must be right. He’s spent everyday with you for a year. Surely, if you were funny he’d be the one to know.”, and I moved on with my life.

I moved on right up until I came across a comedy special called “I Coulda Been Your Cellmate” from the star of one of my favorite movies: “Phat Girlz”. The concept of this comedy special alone shook me to my core. Mo’Nique doing stand-up for hundreds of inmates inside of a women’s prison. How could someone make people laugh in that situation? It seemed impossible.

Then the special started, and she could have done a funny sketch or just launched right into the jokes. However, as I have since learned, this is not her style. She spent the first part of this comedy special giving a voice to these women who will spend most of their natural lives behind bars. Mo’Nique took her time in the spotlight right then to highlight what is broken about prison and the so-called rehabilitation system. At one point an inmate asks her why she came there, and what she said next forever changed the way I looked at our prison system. It also forced me to confront my own inner prejudices against those who’ve been or are incarcerated. I hadn’t opened my heart to their humanity. Growing up in a conservative small town, I had only thought of them as less than decent people, and hadn’t considered how they got there. What tragedy had befallen their lives to drive them to where they were today? My heart ached with a newfound sympathy. Her statement was so profound to me I haven’t forgotten it in ten years: “We live in a society that threw you away, and they said you weren’t worthy and you weren’t valuable and that you were trash. I don’t believe that.” Soon the shot transitions to a stage built outdoors and a crowd of female inmates all wearing different colors to designate their danger or security threat. Mo’Nique then came onstage and took control. She would bring you right to the point of a real “a-ha” moment about us and our society. Then she would hit you with a punchline so funny and so unexpected, I was snort laughing by myself in my living room. Slapping my leg and cackling like an old prospector who just found Gold and couldn’t believe his luck. Now, I could write a massive amount on this special alone, but I’m here to talk about the NOW. I took this trip down memory lane to paint a picture of who I was when Mo’Nique’s stand-up got inside my craw. Because shortly after seeing this, I packed my bags and left. She had said right into that camera that she had been told she wasn’t good enough over and over, and yet here she stood more than good enough. There she stood, a success in her own right. So I loaded myself and my dog onto a plane bound somewhere far away from the man who told me I wasn’t good enough both in life and in my ambition.

Fast forward a few years and I move to Las Vegas, Nevada. My first friend (and still to this day friend) was none other than Bobby Wayne Stauts. He introduced me to a world of amateur stand-up that I didn’t even know existed. I wanted to be a part of it so badly, that I spent three weeks just going out to shows and open mics and befriending comics. Some of my friends who are reading this are like, “Jozalyn, you SURE did ‘befriend’ some of those comics.” and to them I say: Go Befriend Yourself. Then a friend put me on stage one night for 3 minutes and the rest is, as they say, history. Now, let’s jump ahead in the timeline one last time to last week. My friend takes me to see Mo’Nique at her new residency at the SLS. I’m euphoric at the thought of seeing the woman who taught me how to clap back at bullies in “Phat Girlz” and inspired me to shut out the people saying I wasn’t going to be good at stand-up. Her opener Correy Bell had me laughing so hard I almost lost a strip of eyelashes because I was crying. Then, Mo’Nique came out. Gorgeous and statuesque, her smile lit up the whole room, she danced her way to that microphone and before we knew it we were all on our feet dancing with her. Just sharing in a moment of pure joy. No judgement, no pretensions, just everyone in a room feeling unbridled joy at exactly the same moment. She did exactly what I fell in love with her for from the beginning. She made us laugh, she made us cry, and she made us think. She challenged her own belief systems, she challenged our belief systems, and she challenged how we treat each other. She told stories so raw and so real, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her because her pure vulnerability was beautiful.

Then the meet and greet comes. I am sweating and nervous. You don’t often get to meet personal heroes, but I can tell you when I do I want to vomit. Did I do that? No I just cried uncontrollably while standing in a line full of people drinking and dancing. I realize now that Mo’Nique being the thing that pulled me out of traumatic experience also meant that she would take me back there for a moment. And the tears that flooded down my face, the same tears that threaten to fall as I write this, were tears of gratitude. This woman inspired me to chase my dreams in a very real way. It comes my turn and she hugs me deeply and says some things into my ear that I will keep with me forever. I will to write them here, or anywhere because they are mine. When she speaks to you, you just know some things are for you and that moment. Then she pulls away and lets me tell her my story. I walked away knowing I’d never forget this experience. As lucky as I felt then, I then am lucky enough to be invited to do a guest set a few days later. She sends for me when I arrive. I walk into her dressing room and she smiles at me. She squeezes my hand and says “Hello, baby.” and I remind myself that if I cry in front of Mo’Nique again she’s gonna think I’m a crazy person. So I choke back those tears and smile and say hello back. Her energy is palpable. I feel so positive and comfortable, I just know the night is going to be fun. And it was. It was one of my favorite performing experiences to date. I got to watch her bring the house down and I went home that night giving a middle finger to all those people who said “Never meet your heroes.”.

I will save a lot of the memories of that night for me. They are special to me and I don’t believe everything is meant to be shared. I believe some things are meant to be cherished and don’t need repeating. However, there are some things from that night that made me think that a lot of comics, not just female comics, I know could take a page out of the Mo’Nique handbook. Here’s what I took away from this experience:

Don’t be afraid to be real. She showed us her heart and it made those laughs feel so very good. It felt like laughing with your favorite cousin who you only get to see once a year for the holidays. It felt like laughing with that person in your life who you laugh so hard with every time you hang out and only you guys think each other is funny. It felt so very good. A pure laugh that sits in your belly and came from your heart.

Be good to people. All of her messages can be summed up in one message: “Be better to each other”.

And love those who love you. She spent real genuine time with each of her fans that stayed for the meet and greet. She hugged us like she lost us in the grocery store and thought we got snatched up. She didn’t fade. She gave every one of those people 110% of her right up until the moment she walked offstage. Hell, for all I know she was back there hugging the staff and giving them all those positive vibes she seems to be made of.

The fourth thing that I took away was how much she cared that the experience was good for me. She check on me FOUR times before my set. She even apologized for interrupting me while I was reading my notes. She checked on me and made me laugh and showed me love before I even touched the microphone. She didn’t need me to prove that I was funny before she treated me with kindness and love. She did it because I was, as she says, her “Sister in Comedy”.

Comics can so often can ascribe their personal feeling on a comic’s “talent” to how they feel about a person. Deigning them to be “hack” or an “open micer” or “not funny” somehow making them less worthy of kindness it seems. How many of us check on someone we’ve never seen go up even once before they do a guest set on our show? And no I’m not counting you saying “Tight five. Be funny and I'll light you at four.” as checking on them.

And finally, the last thing that I will hold with me for as long as I am in this crazy industry was what she said when I thanked her for the opportunity. I will hold onto this as a principle in my life. It is the kind of person we should all aspire to be. She took my hand and said: “Just promise me that when you’re where I’m at, you’ll reach your hand out to the next little girl trying to make her way and help her up.”.

[scottyunfamous]

#RunningWilde Ch. 41 | On the Run

No matter how sweet the salt

We push so hard we finally broke

Oh, no more apologies need be exchange

Oh, no words could ever help relieve this pain

-All the Things Lost

MS MR

***

With most victories there is loss, and most losses, no matter how small, no matter the magnitude of the victory, made it feel like you shot for the moon but landed on the stars. Sometimes you get the moon, and if you're really lucky, you may even get the sun.

The Diamond Mafia would have to settle for stars this time around, but given what they were up against and the things that they risked losing, the stars were enough.

Dougie was retrieved in one piece and they'd gotten away. That was the victory. The loss that day had been much heavier than expected, from war-torn funerals to too many lives that found their ending that day whether deserved or not. But Dougie was alive and those who were left were still free.

But not all freedom tastes the same. Not all freedom carries the same privilege amongst its bearers. Freedom to the Diamond Mafia was not being incarcerated after all of the havoc wreaked upon South London at their mercurial hands.

Ava wasn't incarcerated, but the freedom of not being behind bars didn't mean anything when it wasn't bars that were keeping her in the first place.

They'd gathered their troops and made a swift getaway back to the compound with Ava's head tucked into Aiden's lap to keep her from seeing the route taken. She'd cried silently the whole way, through gritted teeth and clenched fists. Resentment and anger ebbed away at her sadness and built a path for something that she was unsure of. It was the equivalent of tasting something sour followed by a pungent, stomach turning aftertaste that hung around in your mouth well after and marred the flavour of everything else that followed.

Once inside the compound she was forced to do the thing she didn't want to. They made her repair Aiden and save Dougie, and this time no amount of defiance was going to get her off the hook. Denying Aiden had been easy enough. He'd growled and protested Ava's insolence but she'd been able to stand her ground, because a much as she knew he was a danger, he wasn't a danger to her. She quickly learned that those same tactics didn't work with the rest of his crew. They carried neither Aiden's guilt nor his affliction for her. After two shootouts and the disrespect displayed at the funeral, they were not in the mood for her defiance. They'd lost enough people that day and they weren't about to lose their leaders too.

The Diamond Mafia had stolen medical supplies on their way out of the chaos they'd aided in the hospital. They'd grabbed life support machines from patients who'd unfortunately been caught in the crossfire and were no longer in need of them and equipment from the operating theatre where Dougie was held. They gifted Ava the scrubs from one of the surgeons who'd laid dead at the foot of Dougie's operating table with a bullet in his aorta, courtesy of the Syndicate soldiers who'd wanted an immediate cease of saving his life.

Under the watchful eyes of Mighty and the cold barrel of Stone's gun, she did her best to clean and repair both Dougie and Aiden's bullet wounds. It wasn't the threat of death that made her comply; after all, what kind of life was this to live? No, it was the fear of enduring the pain that would wrack her body when the countdown to an eternity of peace began.

It had been trying and nerve-wracking, attempting to successfully operate on two undeserving humans in the basement of the compound where she'd endured her first torture at Aiden's hands. Covered in the dead surgeon's blood, her disdain multiplied with every swab and stitch. She found herself wishing them both dead and wishing that she could be cutthroat enough to take them out herself, but the chances of making it out alive after that was non-existent.

The spell was completely broken.

*

"Mullins has got us," Stone growled uncharacteristically. He took a hard pull of his blunt which was doing little to return him to his usual state of equanimity. Usually it would be Dougie that was the brash one, telling Aiden what was what, but he was laid up on the gurney in the basement, knocked out on pain killers, with thick folds of bandages wrapped around his elevated leg.

Three days had passed and all every media outlet, Member of Parliament, emergency service worker and law enforcer could talk about was the startling rise of criminal activity that had swept the city. Kidnappings, mass murders, bombings, grand theft auto –it was all over the place.

People were scared to leave their homes; they cried terrorism (which ultimately led fingers to be pointed in the wrong places). Social media was in a frenzy, floating the hashtag #SaveOurCity, urging communities to come forward and speak up about those who endangered them and their families. And people came forward, people who thought they knew but in reality had no idea. All their snitching got them were the arrest of petty thieves and low end drug dealers who lived damn near hand to mouth on pushing £20 bags of weed to the locals and a few pills for the ravers because for some reason or another they struggled to secure employment or the kind of employment that didn't leave them living like they were still as broke as they were when they were not working.

Those who really knew, knew better than to open their mouths and call out the Diamond Mafia or the Syndicate. It wasn't like they needed to anyway; the police knew full well that the disruption to the city was due to it being the main arena of a mob war that was just getting started. They needed people with real evidence so that they could grab these men.

The city always had its good share of unfortunate incidents, but not packed so closely together and in such a grand fashion. The once historical site of the Stand station was a jagged black hole in the ground that made the surrounding area reek of sulphur, smoke and death. Services on London underground had been disrupted ever since, which the city's inhabitants hated even more than the loss of a landmark. The graveyard had been cleared of dead bodies, but the grass and gravestones were still painted with blood and in the middle of it all, two unmarked graves with fragments of dead flowers surrounding them. The hospital had done it's best to accommodate its patients, but with a saddening shortage of staff and a crime scene in the A&E bay and across four wings, it was difficult to function as normal.

London hadn't seen crime on this scale before and if a stop wasn't put to it soon, this standoff would exceed expectations.

Aiden pressed his finger to his temple, his dark eyes fixed on a spot on the meeting room table, refusing to look elsewhere in case he caught sight of his arm, bandaged and resting in a sling.

"No, he doesn't," Mighty said as he studied the further tensing of Aiden's form. Things were in such disarray and as much as a part of him shared Stone's frustrations, it wasn't his place to berate their boss.

"Fuck you mean he don't, bruv? He's taken out a third of the man dem, trashed all of our fronts so we can't flip our shit clean like we need to, the feds on his side more than triple ours so they're all out looking for us, and now cause of this fuckery we can't even roll up on all dem man like we was plannin' to and reclaim our corners cause we ain't in control of our shit no more. So you tell me how the fuck he ain't got us!"

Mighty opened his mouth with a finger lifted in the air ready to punctuate a counter argument...then closed it.

"He hasn't got us because we aren't dead," Aiden said evenly, "And as long as we're not dead, we're cool."

"Nah bruv, we ain't been cool for a hot minute. Shit's just getting more fucked up and real talk, I don't see how were gonna get out of it. We've never had beef on this level before. Fam, we're fucking hiding in this place like a bunch of wasteman pussy'oles cause we know we can't do shit! Your arm is in a sling, Dougie's on bed rest, Trish and Jamie had to ghost again, nuff of the man dem are gone...brudda, we can't even finish burying Keegan and Ash_"

Aiden slammed his palm down on the desk, "I KNOW THAT!" He'd gone over the catastrophe enough to know how dire the situation was. He didn't need Stone to relay their failings. His failings.

"Okay..." Mighty breathed, splaying his arms between them, "Let's just all calm down and figure out what we're gonna do about it."

"We're going to lay low_"

"We've been layin' low," Stone mumbled.

Aiden drew up his eyes to glare at him, "Listen, when I'm talking, shut your fuckin' mouth."

Stone clenched his jaw but stayed silent. He dragged his blunt twice.

"We started with nothing and we built this," Aiden gestured around him at the deluxe compound they inhabited, "Because we're made of stronger shit than the rest of them. Things setback doesn't stop us from being a threat. That's why they're trying to kill us. That's why so many want to see us fall, because they know if they don't get each and every one of us that we'll do what we always do," he got to his feet, hiding the urge to wince as his shoulder wound stretched and moved with him. He looked at Stone, "We'll win."

*

At eight o'clock that night, Aiden knocked on Ava's door, waited for reply that he knew wouldn't come, and then walked in. She was exactly where she had been for the past three days when he'd come to check on her around this time; sat in the desk chair, staring at the grey wall where a window should be.

"Good evening, Ava-Marie." He closed the door behind him and stepped further into the room and eyed yet another plate of vegan cuisine gone cold, "You haven't touched your food." He perched on the edge of her desk and prodded the congealed gravy, rubbery tofu and greying potatoes with her spotless fork. "Shall I warm it up for you?"

She continued to stare at the wall.

"How long are you gonna keep this up for? Ava-Marie, I'm talking to you," he reached for her and she recoiled.

Images of his writhing body stretched out on the gurney as he screamed and bled all over her stolen scrubs while she grudgingly helped him flashed in her mind.

He bit his lip and grunted, "Do you want to die? Is that what this is about?" It was something he'd avoided saying out loud. The possibility of him being right made his throat swell and his heart quiver erratically, but it had been three days of this behaviour from her and whether he said it or not wouldn't stop it from being true.

The corner of her mouth twitched.

This was the most response he'd gotten from her in days and it further ignited a panic within him.

"Ava-Marie..." he put his fist to his mouth and spoke slowly, "After the lengths I've gone to, to keep you alive, you are ungrateful enough to throw it in my face? Everything I've done since that night I pulled you from that car, everything, has been for you. All of it. If I could go back in time to that moment, I'd save you all over again." He picked up the tray, "So I'm going to heat this up for you and you will eat. You are not going to die, not while I have breath in my lungs."

She looked at the spotless stainless steel fork still sitting on the table and focused on the glinting points of the prongs, and she wondered...wondered just exactly how much force it would take to stop the breath in his lungs.

She flexed her fingers.

He picked the fork up.

She frowned and clenched her fist in her lap. Theoretically thwarted, she abruptly relocated to the bed and pulled the sheets up to her chin.

Aiden sighed and shook his head. You'd think he'd be used to the women he loved wanting him dead by now. He moved to the door then paused, "I came in here to thank you. My arm is healing nicely and Dougie is coming around. You did good, Ava-Marie. You saved us, so thank you."

She yanked the sheets over her head and faced the wall.

*

 Miles of open road stretched before the bulletproof truck, made visible only by its headlights, the waning half moonlight, and the sequential ice blue glow of cat eye reflectors embedded in the centre of the tarmac between short, white guidelines. Either side of the car were empty lanes, interrupted by the occasional sixteen-wheeler driven by doped up drivers, and seemingly endless expanse of a void that in the daytime revealed flush green meadows that stretched on for miles, peppered with horses, sheep and cows.

Ava's head was leant against the window of the passenger side, smushing her limp and brittle candy coloured curls. Her warm breath flowed through cracked lips and made pulsing clouds against the cool glass. A week had passed and still not a morsel of food or so much as a drop of water had made it into her mouth. Her skin was patchy, dry and discoloured, with burst of tiny pus filled spots across her cheeks, chin and forehead.

Aiden was on the brink of force feeding her, but he feared that the action probably wouldn't help his already failing case. He figured that she'd have come round by now, with every tantalising morsel he paraded in front of her starved body, but al it seemed to do was make her angrier with him. Anytime he brought a plate to her, her eyes focused feverishly on the cutlery and the soft spaces between his ribs.

It was just the two of them in the car, the silence filled with Raheem Devaughn, on their way into deeper hiding.

For all intents and purposes, the flame of the Diamond Mafia had been ousted by the violent blow of the Syndicate.

The compound, now completely abandoned, was cleared out and cleaned of all traces of humanity. The hair salon was boarded up with big white panels that left the question of its return hanging in the balance. Mafia soldiers were few and far between in the area, and even when spotted, weren't seen to be doing anything untoward that would make them stand out from the rest of the general public.

The difference in Brixton was felt by the local community. As much as the disappearance of a lethal gang should have positive connotations, the after effects were oddly adverse. For some reason it didn't feel safe anymore, even with the knowledge that the Mafia played a pivotal role in the surge of violence in the city.

To the naked eye it was indeed safer, less gang activity would be ridiculous to be viewed as anything but, but Brixton was Mafia territory. It was their home so they protected it. Now that they appeared to be gone, there was no one looking out for the vibrant, bustling town. It felt open to invasion or even worse, being claimed by new management, probably by some two-bit crew of overhyped youths who cared more about petty power and engaging in experiences to transform into yet another lacklustre UK rap song about 'endz' and how 'bad' they were than keeping things in order. The Mafia were run like an old school collective of organised crime should be –humbly and respectfully, with hands in its community to make sure people outside of their organisation were taken care of. There was no guarantee that the new owners, if any, would do that. Luckily none were brave enough and sure enough that Aiden and his men and women in black would stay gone for good, to step up to the plate.

Alone in a void of black that would make way for more endless fields come dawn, circled by tarmac, stood a bungalow type building. Mounted on the edge of the roof, under lit by pumpkin hued spotlights that made it feel like casual Halloween, a sign displayed the name 'Buxton's Inn'. The car park was practically empty, save for the owner's car, one other guest. Aiden tucked his vehicle in the shadows around the back of the quiet motel.

He switched off the engine and looked at Ava, weak, with her head still slumped against the window. The moonlight exaggerated the developing sharper, angular planes of her heart shaped face. He missed the soft roundness it used to hold. It represented a different time; a time when she could still find a way to be happy with him, despite it all. Now all he saw was manifestation of his ruination. For a while, it was nice to pretend that he'd never have to see the toll that his presence in her world would take on her.

He should have let her go sooner. It was wrong to keep something so beautiful because there was only one way things could go.

Aiden Michaels shouldn't keep beautiful things.

He popped open the glove compartment and pulled out a clear Ziploc bag with a fake marriage certificate, passports, credit and debit cards, driving licences, and at the very bottom nestled in the corner, two plain gold wedding bands. He put the ring on.

"I'm going to check us in," he said.

She didn't respond.

At the desk an aging man sat alone watching the news on a small black and white television mounted on the wall. Or rather, the artefact watched him. His bushy eyebrows and thinning chestnut and silver streaked hair could be seen over the top of a specialist magazine about fishing.

Aiden removed his hat and smiled warmly. It didn't stop the man's wary expression from surfacing or deter him from laying down his magazine and sliding his hand closer to the edge of the table where there was undoubtedly an emerge alarm. Aiden told himself that this reaction had to better than the one that would have come had he not bothered smiling at all. He didn't imagine that the owner saw many people like him around these parts and that like most people way out here, all the owner really had to go off of was what he saw on television.

"Good night," he said softly in his most well-spoken British accent.

The owner relaxed a touch and took the time to curiously take in Aiden's all black attire. He scanned the thick wool double-breasted coat open over a shirt, slim fit jeans and Cuban heeled boots -something much too nice for a 'thug' to wear. Or so he thought. "Night," he replied in his clipped northern twang.

"I'd like to book a double room for the night. My wife is too tired to take over for the rest of the drive and I'm shattered so she suggested that we stop, so of course, we're stopping," he laughed heartily with an expression that communicated something that they man with his gold wedding band digging into his pudgy fingers would understand –'You know how wives are.'

The man tossed his eyes, "What they say goes," he agreed with a small smile, deciding that the well-dressed, well-spoken married man with the bossy wife couldn't be as bad as the 'rest of them'. That he had to be one of the 'good ones'. He opened a heavy hardback book with grids lining the pages and went to the newest page, "Yes, we have a room available, Mr...?"

"Stone," Aiden smiled.

"Okay, Mr Stone. It's £108 a night. Will you be paying by cash or card?"

"Cash." He produced a wad of notes from his inside pocket and counted £110 onto the counter.

The owner eyed the amount of money still in Aiden's hand after paying him out and narrowed his eyes. "Seems like you can afford to stay somewhere much nicer than this dump," he chuckled stiffly.

Aiden shrugged and laughed back.

"So what brings you and the misses up this way?" the owner said recounting the money Aiden gave him.

"Visiting family."

"I see," he held the £50 note Aiden had given him up into the light and seemed almost disappointed to see the queen's head appear. "You have family up this way?"

"She does. Her father's side of the family is Scottish."

"Ahh," the owner nodded. That made much more sense. He handed Aiden a key attached to a rectangle of cardboard with the number five scrawled on it in black felt marker.

Aiden winced as he lifted his arm to slip the key in his pocket, "What time is checkout?"

"Midday. Say, what happened to your arm?"

"Bit off more than I could chew at the gym," he mirrored the way the owner had tossed his eyes earlier, with a smile. "Well, thank you for your help. Goodnight." He excited the reception and reflected on why he hated leaving London.

He grabbed the luggage from the boot then opened the door for Ava, making sure to stand close enough to catch her in case she toppled out. "Can you walk?" He offered her his hand.

She made a low, irritable groaning sound and manoeuvred around him.

She followed a few steps behind Aiden to the room, noting how he kept his pace slow and the elbow of his injured arm jutted out enough for her to grab onto should she need it.

She didn't want to need it. She wanted whatever it was that she was trying to do to herself to hurry up and be over with. Trying to power through it and maintain her steely disconnect from him was a full time job.

She was so sad and so lonely, and though it was an infinite stream of these feelings, minus the internal conflict that should have never existed, it still took her under sometimes, like a choppy sea suddenly turned violent storm whenever the wind changed. This kind of life made the wind change a lot. It was an astoundingly surreal situation to be in, one that never failed to amaze her at the dramatism of it. This wasn't a normal storyline that had forced itself into her life; it was shocking, so much so that she'd forgiven herself (well...that part she was still working on) for the previous downright disillusionment of the situation...of him –to set in.

There's no set way to deal with being kidnapped and seduced by a captivatingly insane man, and having everything taken from her at his vengeful and mercurial hands. No, it was fine that it was really and truly hitting her now. She had been in shock. She reasoned that at least it had hit her -all of the horror and the hurt -at least she finally acknowledged it and discontinued trying to make rosy her reality. The feelings that came with this realisation were awful, like having a nipple clamp removed and realising that the pinch that it gave when secured to the body was nothing like the bruising burning that came afterwards -but at least they made sense.

Aiden glanced over his shoulder and checked that she was still mobile enough to keep up her stubbornness.

She grimaced at the sight of his once enchanting face and her stomach turned. Yes, this sickening feeling definitely made sense. It was odd how dislike for even the most beautiful people could do that. How it could make them look so ugly. Well, maybe not ugly, but their beauty most definitely fell flat, the effects of it dulled dramatically, and all you could see was that they were not good.

The room was fitting for the owner if the inn. Its décor hadn't been updated since the seventies. The dark floral wallpaper, pink crochet doyleys on the bedside table that housed tarnished and chipped porcelain ballerinas, and frilly bed topper made Ava nauseous. Aiden found it comforting. Elements of the outdated design reminded him of his grandmother's home.

She sat gingerly on the edge of the queen-sized bed and rolled her eyes at the crackle of the plastic still wrapped around the mattress beneath the sheets.

"We're only going to be here for the night. I thought you might like a bed instead of a car seat."

She looked around the room then at him. Her stomach turned again; he was not good. She hated the way he froze under her glare, how his breath caught in his chest the way hers used to for him, and how unguarded his usually empty eyes were, begging her to see beyond the surface, begging her to remember how she'd felt for him before... "Where will you be sleeping?" It was the first thing she'd said in over a week. Her throat was dry and it made her voice harsh. She found she liked it that way.

"I'll take the sofa."

She gave a sharp nod then disappeared back behind her wall, blocking him and his hopeful eyes and tightened chest out. She kicked off her shoes and crawled under the covers. The pillows smelt like flowery fabric softer and mildew, but she was too tired to care.

"There's some water and Nakd bars in the bag table if you want them."

She rolled over so her back was to him and fell asleep to the groaning bubble of her stomach.

What do you think about Ava's current state of mind? 

And (out of sheer curiosity) if you were in her situation, what would you do?

 Let me know in the comments below (and if you liked this chapter, please make sure to click the heart)

Love Scotty x

[craigrcannon]

Japan, One Convenience Store At A Time

Heads up! Below is a long post about bike stuff. If you like this sort of thing you can subscribe to my newsletter about bike trips.

I land in Tokyo and catch a bus to the city center. Pulling my bike box out from the bus, a station attendant gives me a look as if to say, “And now what?”

I’m going to set this thing up on the sidewalk.

It takes a while before the pieces, now all over the ground, resemble a bike. Everyone looks. Only the kids maintain eye contact. A couple of them wave.

When the bike’s ready I break down the box, surveying street corners for a trash can. I find none. If Japan is the future, the future is too clean.

Eventually I find a bin outside 7–11. This marks the beginning of my dependence on Japanese convenience stores.

My first few days disappear in a haze of ramen shops and grilled meats. I linger in a basement bar where salarymen stand around drinking and eating oily food before falling asleep on their train home. When the bar closes I get on the bike and start riding. Tokyo’s enormity is most apparent at night; each district has a hub that’s larger and more illuminated than the central hub in most US cities.

Eventually I turn onto a quieter road and pass beneath train tracks. Right alongside the tracks are two short alleys, crammed with miniature bars. Finding one bar that’s just loud enough, I push back the flags outside and slide open the frosted door. Then the entire bar, 6 people, turns to greet me. They let out a cheer and make room in the corner.

Several rounds of sake later I learn that the woman I’m sitting next to is a professional Keirin rider. She’s racing in two days in Utsunomiya. I have no idea where that is but agree to go.

I catch a train to Utsunomiya the next morning and camp outside Nikko. The days are short and I’m inside my tent by 6PM. Usually I spend a couple hours reading or wasting time on my phone before falling asleep. One way I like to waste time on my phone is searching Google for photos of the area where I’m staying, which is how I come across this:

I’m looking at the Irohazaka, a famous climb just a few miles away. In the morning I shake the ice off my tent, pack up, and give it a go. What’s particularly cool about the Irohazaka is that it’s actually two roads: one up (above), one down (below).

After the climb I turn around and make my way back to Utsunomiya for the race. As I’m buying my ticket an ancient Japanese man points at the pink rain cover on my backpack and starts talking shit. I don’t know Japanese but his tone makes it obvious. He points, says something to the ticket taker, and they both laugh before he starts in on me again. I like this place.

Keirin’s one of four sports you can legally gamble on in Japan, which means it’s just as fun to watch the race as it is to observe the guys — and it’s all guys — trying to pick a winner. Many of them sit inside and watch the race from what looks like a lecture hall, shuffling slips of paper on tiny desks as they stare at the screen then back down, checking their luck.

I walk over to the betting machine but can’t figure it out. I lean over to see what the guy next to me is doing though he quickly indicates that what I’m doing is not cool. I give up and loiter around the tea machines, waiting for the next race to start.

I leave for Hokkaido later that night. The entire trip will take over a day and involve substantial schlepping because, to take a bike on a Japanese train, it has to be partially disassembled and in a bike bag. 😑🔫

Breaking a bike down and attaching frame bags to a backpack takes practice. Finding a place on the train to stash it while avoiding a conductor temper tantrum is mostly luck. Lashing the bike to a pole in the train’s vestibule usually works.

Once in Hokkaido I catch a local train to Niseko, where I make camp in the woods. It snows overnight. I wake up to single digit temperatures. This was a dumb idea.

I pack up, go snowboarding for a few hours, and catch a train south. As much as I like arbitrary challenges, dragging my bike through snowfields feels like overkill. I look up a temperature map of Japan and pair it with my advanced research tactic: Google Images. Shikoku looks interesting. Done.

Shikoku is Japan’s smallest major island. It’s home to a 1,200 km coastal pilgrimage route but I want elevation and decide to cross it right up the middle. Inspired by Andrew Skurka, I’m hoping to create a sort of Shikoku High Route. Unfortunately, despite being warmer than Hokkaido, Shikoku also has “winter” and many of the roads I hope to take are closed. Instead, I’ll spend five days traversing north along river valleys and ridges.

Uwajima To A Park Under A Bridge 69.1 mi, 7,884 ft I camp on a hill looking west over Uwajima. I wake up at 5:30, condensation dripping off my tent onto the down sleeping bag I bought off Craigslist in Tokyo. Staying dry will be a constant battle on this trip.

I follow a river out of the city to my first convenience store stop of the day. I didn’t know this before visiting Japan but their convenience stores are amazing. They have very edible prepared food and really good diner coffee. Apparently many Japanese salarymen don’t even cook at home anymore, they just eat from convenience stores. Another thing these guys no longer do at home is browse softcore porn magazines — watch out for that aisle.

I buy a coffee and sit outside, wasting time on my phone when something odd happens. A construction worker walks over to me and hands me what looks like a hotdog. Before I can compute what’s happened he’s in his truck and driving away. This will happen three more times on the trip. Some of my friends think it’s because I haven’t shaved in several months and look like a homeless bike person. I prefer to think Japanese people are just kind to travelers. We’re probably both right.

I eat the hotdog thing (weird) and start along a road that quickly narrows to one lane. The snow’s melting off the ground and forming a dense mist. I go hours without seeing a car.

About 40 miles in I start climbing and keep climbing, for 18 miles. Near the top I get a lesson in bike pushing, inching my way along several hundred meters of black ice. Once on the ridgeline, I follow it into a tiny town with a general store (closed) and public bathroom (open) where I stop to wring the cold sweat from my shirt and hat and gloves and arm warmers and jacket and socks.

Back on the bike I get ready to descend from the ridge, shifting onto the big ring. Then, trying to shift across the cassette, I hear the distinct sound of plastic cracking. A piece inside my right shifter has snapped. I pull over, laughing. The exact reason I shouldn’t have used STI shifters on this trip has come to pass. They’re full of tiny, proprietary parts. Good luck fixing one on the road.

Thankfully, the rear derailleur’s still holding tension so, even though I’m stuck with one gear, I can pick it. I pull the cable through the derailleur until the chain is in the middle of the cassette. Looks like I’m finishing the trip on a two speed.

I find a small park along a river to set up camp just before dark, hoping my stuff will be kind of dry in the morning.

A Park Under A Bridge To Ochi 43.2 mi, 3,563 ft Nothing is dry. Some things are frozen. The sky is clearing and it looks like today might be sunny. I take longer than usual to pack up, making coffee and trying to shake the moisture off the tent. I climb out of the valley through an evergreen forest. A few miles up the climb there’s a “road closed” sign, which I casually pass. Unfortunately there’s a work crew ahead. One of the guys informs me that the road isn’t pretend closed and that the snow on it is above my head. I don’t completely believe him but take the message.

I drop back into the valley and follow another route north. Passing a lake, I cut up a ridge on a deserted road covered in loose pine needles and rockslide debris. After topping out I enter another river valley before reaching Ochi in the early afternoon. It’s been an easy day but the daylight hours are short and honestly, I’m totally content to just hang out on this trip.

Ochi To Motoyama 71.9 mi, 6,348 ft 20 easy miles take me to my convenience store stop of the day. With only two speeds on the bike, there’s no need to think about how to ride. I’m either spinning or standing.

After Ino I follow a single lane road through the hills. I take a wrong turn at a fork, assuming what looks like an old driveway can’t be a numbered road, and cruise down a hill. While climbing back up the ridge I stumble into the most impressive shrine (and staircase) of the trip.

At around 32 miles there’s a small town where I stop at a vending machine, trying out a hot canned coffee (not bad). Just before leaving I realize that my front brake’s been rubbing on the wheel all morning. The handlebar bag is pressing against the brake cable. Laughing at my bike’s sorry state, I sort of fix it and just keep going. Friction is character building, right?

The next ten miles form a steady climb to about 2,600 feet. I cross a small saddle before 20 miles of downhill, first through tight switchbacks then along a deep, clear river. The road slopes just enough to make my gearing useless so I just coast, hoping I don’t launch over a guardrail when not paying attention to the road.

I make camp along the river in Motoyama though Tosa has a better convenience store.

Motoyama To The Iya Valley 54.8 mi, 4,721 ft I wake to ice all over my tent. I do my best to shake it off but only get about half of it before admitting defeat and packing up.

I see a few possible routes out of Motoyama, some more remote than others. Several of them might be closed so I stop by the police station to ask for directions. Once one guy figures out what I’m after, four dudes surround the table and produce paper topo maps to consult on the project. Without any language in common, we spend ten minutes pointing at roads, eventually concluding that two of the three options are closed, I think. As I’m walking out I hear, “be careful” and look back to see the dad-ish cop smiling. What an odd expression to know.

I ride north to Oboke, where I stop for an early lunch. I find what looks like a noodle shop but the owner points me across the street to a small grocery store. I assume that means they’re closed. I ask the woman running the grocery store if I can find ramen nearby. She points back across the street and says “Soba. Udon.” I’m completely lost as to what’s happening. She steps out from behind the register, walks over to a refrigerator and grabs two packages of noodles. Still not really sure what’s happening, I pick one and pay for it. She hands them to me with a piece of paper and points me back across the street. I walk over and show the shop owner the paper, then the noodles. She takes both, smiles, and points at a small table inside. I’ve cracked the code. I sit down with a dumb look of accomplishment on my face.

The meal is excellent but poorly timed. I leave town and am immediately standing on the pedals, climbing 1,000 ft before entering the Iya Valley. My main objective for the day is to visit the Iya Onsen, which I do and it’s great. I haven’t showered in almost a week so this is a welcome stop.

I hang out in the hot pool for a while then spend probably 30 minutes standing under a heater in the locker room wasting time on my phone as my clothes dry. Thankfully it’s a weekday and the locker room is empty so I don’t look like a total creep.

Leaving the onsen I backtrack a few miles then go north up the valley. Gradually clouds fill the sky. Just before it’s too dark to ride without lights I pass through a truly eery place.

I’m riding down a deserted road when I see what looks like a scarecrow in a field. Then I see another outside a house. Then two sitting outside a store. It’s an entire village without people, just life-size dolls. I don’t stop to take pictures.

Postscript: Turns out there’s at least one person in the village––the woman who makes the dolls. She makes them in the image of locals that have moved away… or died. Here’s a video about it.

I ride another ten miles to what’s marked as a campsite on my map. Unfortunately it’s across a river and the bridge is closed. It’s nearly dark so I climb up a hill and pitch my tent in the woods. From my sleeping bag I stare at the tent wall, unable to shake the village off.

Iya Valley to Tokushima 50.6 mi, 3,307 ft Within one mile of leaving camp I might be screwed. A crane is taking up the entire road. There’s been a landslide and crew is working to rebuild the road’s edge. I decide to try my luck and slip the bike under one of the support legs, hoping the route north isn’t totally destroyed. The work crew notices me but doesn’t freak out so I just wave, hop on my bike, and start riding.

As I continue the road turns icier and icier. First it’s just in the shaded corners, then it’s across the entire surface. Eventually I make it to the top where I pass through a small tunnel. Immediately there’s a shift in road surface–now it’s ice plus rockslide debris. I’m ecstatic though. There’s no one up here.

I’m flying down empty switchbacks until I take a tight corner and nearly flatten some Japanese wildlife. Just hanging out in the middle of the road are a macaque and a serow. I barely avoid them and slide to a stop. Having never seen a serow before, I try to take a photo but it gets away. I determine that it must have been a tuna.

Once I reach the valley floor it’s an easy ride into Tokushima. I find a ramen shop and order a bowl, then another. Eventually I have to admit that I’m full and have run out of ways to procrastinate. Time to take the bike apart, the next train leaves in 30 minutes.

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