#only for the stupid corporations to cancel them before the story is finished

[personinthepalace]

If I had a nickel for every time a major streaming service cancelled a beloved book-to-tv show adaptation (of my favorite books!) after adapting just the first two books then I would have two nickels

I'm just really tired of this happening guys. I would like the less well-known books to win for once

[realcube]

the heart || kei tsukishima x reader

 summary: modern au! you and tsukishima are supposed to dissect a lamb heart in biology but it doesn’t go to plan

tw// cussing, the dissection of a lamb heart, blood, biology 🤢

my excuse: this is based on a true story and i wrote it at like 3am - read at your own expense. this is probably the worst piece i’ve every written.

“Geez, why are you complaining? You literally just play Cool Maths Games during every period of Biology and now that we actually have to do something you become a whiny bitch.” Tsukishima clicked his tongue, slipping his phone back into his pocket while adjusting his headphones so they hung around his neck, rather than having to take them off because they were apart of his look at this point.

You tossed your head back upon hearing the news that you’d actually have to do something in class for a change, “Exactly! Biology is supposed to be the one class where I am not bombarded with work. Just last period, I drew at least fifty stupid fucking graphs! For what? To find x? To hell with your x !” You cried, running a hand through your hair to make sure you didn’t mess it up because you spent way too long straightening it this morning for a swift movement of your neck to mess it all up. 

Tsukishima sighed, hesitantly rubbing your back as you genuinely seemed quite stressed, “It’ll be fine, and it’s not like we’re learning anything new. We have already studied the heart, I think it was last year; we’re only doing the experiment now because we couldn’t to do it last year for some reason.” Tsukishima mumbled, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he noticed that he was doing a decent job of reassuring you as your hair was no long standing on its ends. 

“Plus,” He said, flicking his pencil with his fingers, “This’ll be cool! The heart is quite an interesting organ, it’ll be fun to actually get hands-on and see the chambers and valves up close, don’t you think?” He added, seeming a bit too enthusiastic about dissecting a lamb heart - it was kinda creepy.

After you finished loudly judging him, you pulled out your phone from your pocket and absently went to snapchat, to send your streaks. “Yeah, whatever. Get in ‘ere with me Tsukishima, will you?” It was hardly a request as before he even had time to process what you had just asked him, you had taken a selfie of you and him with the indie filter, wrote ‘streaks’ on it and sent it to your whole best friend’s list. 

It took him a moment to react to what you just did but when he noticed you typing away to your friend, he let out a breathy sigh. Usually, he’d be fuming by your action but he had to admit, he looked pretty good in that picture - especially because he barely had any nice candid photos of himself. “Send that to me - but without the stupid caption.” Was all he could be bothered to utter.

You hummed in agreement, “Will do.” You replied, immediately finding the photo in your saved pictures and scrolling down your friends list until you found Tsukishima; he wasn’t too low down since you recently asked him for the answers to the Maths homework - he said no, of course, but it was worth a shot.

“I’m feeling kinda bummed so y’know what I am gonna do?” You spoke and without giving Tsukishima a moment to respond, you answered your own question. “Check your Snapchat username, it always makes him laugh.”

Tsukishima’s blood ran cold and his eyes widened at the mention of his username on Snapchat, “(Y/N). Do not--”

“Dinoguykei!” You exclaimed rather loudly, tears of joy pricking at the corners of your eyes as you cackled upon repeating his username to yourself - absolute gold.

“I was, like, 11 when I made it! Give me a break.” He spat, sticking out his bottom lip momentarily before pulling his headphones back over his head to clasp his ears so he no longer had to listen to your ‘annoying-ass laugh’, as he called it. There was clearly no music playing from his headphones and he acted as if he couldn’t hear you when he had them on despite the fact that they were clearly not noise-cancelling - this was a move he pulled often which you liked to call ‘blocking out the a haters’ as he would do that exact thing whenever you said something to displease him..

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow, flicking his fake-ass SOMY headphones but since they were made of wurtzite boron nitride or something like that, they hit you right back, resulting in your hissing and quickly pulling your hand away. “Do you think that your crusty, dollar store headphones can prevent my noise from reaching your ears? I think the fuck not.” 

“I-”

“If you want me to buy you new ones, just ask. How much were they? Or are they hend-me-downs?” You inquired without missing a beat, it wasn’t often that you managed to tease Tsukishima which such flow consecutively so you were obviously going to make to most of this opportunity while you had it.

“They are from the dollar store but I didn’t buy them.” Tsukishima mumbled but loud enough for you to hear, he lowered his head and desperately tried to resist the sly grin which tugged at the corners of his lips as all the memories came flooding back to him. “You were there, weren’t you?” 

“No.” You replied simply but immediately realising what Tsukishima was talking about and leaning in closer to him, “Is Tsukki a criminal?” You sung while wiggling your eyebrow playfully at him. 

Tsukishima scoffed, once again lowering his headphones from his ears back down to his neck. “As if you aren’t, with all the stuff you stole from the supermarket.” He hissed while trying not to laugh as he recalled the time you tried to sneak out passed security by shoving food under your shirt so you looked pregnant - and they fucking fell for it! Or  maybe they were just too lazy to bother calling you out, either way you got away with it though. “And this is what you said before bolting out of Forever21 with sunglasses in your bra - verbatim: ‘If it is a chain, it’s free rein.’.” 

You wiped an imaginary tear from your eye as you heard those words leave Tsukishima’s mouth, “Beautiful-” You mused, about to go on to tell him about the other economic benefits of stealing from large corporations until he cut you off to correct you as always.

“So, you were wrong. These headphones were not a dollar, they were free.” 

Of course, Tsukishima never talks to you without the intend of either insulting you or proving your wrong in some way/argue with you. So why would this be any exception?

“Anyway,” Tsukishima began, his gaze shifting around the room rapidly in search of the biology teacher, “Where is that bitch? I’m ready to dissect the fuck out of that lamb heart if he just gets his ass over here immediately. He always does this.” Tsukishima huffed as this was far from the first time he had been let down by the biology teacher, as well as all of his classmates.

In fact, the whole class had basically mutually agreed that the biology teacher was shit as almost everyone in the class was failing due to his horrible teaching - or lack there of. Tsukishima was the only one passing because he had a tutor but he was still averaging 60% - a C - which was way too low for his liking. 

Also, the biology teacher had a habit of making false promises - for instance, there was that one time he said the class could use whiteboards to create model cells so he rushed out the room to ‘go get the whiteboards’ and didn’t come back. Instead of getting the whiteboards, there was a rumour going around the school that - with the assistance a foreign language teacher - he conducted a different kind of biological experiment in the janitor’s cupboard. 

Be that as it may, all my homies hated the biology teacher..until today, when he actually pulled through with the goods.

He came marching into the class holding a pale bag filled with a dark, red substance and quickly placed it on his desk. “Right, troops. Get yourself a partner, come ‘ere and grab a lamb heart then remove the tricuspid valve for me, will ya?” He panted, rubbing his forehead and bringing attention to his bright red face. He was seemingly out of breath yet nobody has ever seen him run before; was he that tired from walking to the storage cupboard and back?

“Sir, do we dissect it with out hands or?”

The teacher shrugged, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder before rushing out of the room. “I don’t know, sure? Or maybe use a spatula or something. Right, BRB, guys.” Just like that, he was gone. Probably to go rail Tsukishima’ foreign language teacher in the privacy of his own home or something. ‘Ew.’ Tsukki shuddered at the thought. 

“I’ll go get us a heart.” He said, getting up from his chair and about to make his way over to the teacher’s desk until you giggled, asking, “Who said I wanted to partner up with you?” 

Tsukishima rolled his eyes, checking the time on his phone and spoke without averting his gaze from the path in front of him, “You’ve not got much of a choice.” With that, he slinked off to the front of the class to grab a heart and hopefully a spatula too. 

Your mouth was left agape at his comment, mostly because you were unable to decipher what he meant by that; curse his naturally sarcastic-sounding tone! Perhaps that was his way of trying to hit on you by saying he wouldn’t allow you to partner up with anybody else - or it could be a jab at the fact everyone in this class hates you for one reason or another.

“Some knob took the last spatula so I guess you’re using your hands.” He grumbled, dumping the heart which was packed in a thin, clear plastic bag onto your desk. Crossing his arms over his chest before sitting back down at his own table, pulling out his phone and about to start playing some music until you realised what he was trying to do and instinctively flicked his arm.

“What?” He hissed, jerking his head around to shoot you a deadly glare. You stuck your bottom lip out to form a pout but then you remembered that he finds your pouty face funny and right now you were trying to be intimidating so you quickly switched to a scowl. “You’re the one who wanted to dissect the stupid thing, you do it!” You roared, slamming the lamb heart onto his desk then leaned back in your chair, folding you arms over your chest in a bad-tempered manor.

Tsukishima’s expression softened slightly as he looked over, doing his best to stifle a chuckle at how silly you looked with a scowl on your face - like grumpy cat, in a way. “Why are you so mad?” He asked monotonously, shifting his gaze onto the heart on his desk, hesitantly reaching out to unzip the plastic bag which it was packed inside. 

You shrugged your shoulders, biting your lip as you looked down at your hands, shocked at how white your knuckles had become from holding a fist for so long. “My bad, Tsukki.” You said in a low voice, embarrassed at how his simple actions had pissed you off so much. “I guess I am just kinda frustrated with this whole class - mostly the teacher. I mean, we’re literally all doing horribly and instead of helping he just gives us a fucking lamb heart to dissect like what good does that--”

Suddenly, you felt something cold and slimy splat against your elbow, leading to a small gasp escaping your mouth as you instinctively whipped your head over to see what it was - however, as soon as you laid your eyes on it, you wished that you hadn’t. 

A high-pitched shriek left your mouth, immediately gaining the attention of almost the whole class but once the turned heads realised how uneventful the situation actually was, they went back to what they were doing prior to your scream. 

Tsukishima winced slightly in reaction to the shrill sound that left your mouth - “Oh, shut up.” He snapped, rolling his eyes at your - in his opinion - melodramatic reaction. “It’s just a bit of lamb heart; here, I’ll get it off for you.”

As soon as you realised what you had just done and the reaction it had evoked, you slapped your spare hand over your mouth but without averting your gaze from the god-forsaken piece of meat which clung committedly to your forearm. “Tsukki.” You tried to sound angry but the fear was still clear in your voice, “Why would you do that?” Although you hadn’t seen him do the deed, you were almost 100% this was the work of him flicking the wretched lamb muscle onto your arm - this theory was reinforced by the fact the plastic bag was lying wide open on his desk.

Tsukishima laughed, leaning over to pick the bit of heart off of your arm then proceeded to flick it away to some other poor soul’s desk. “There we go. Happy now?” 

You growled - something your friend had taught you to do whenever you were mad - shooting daggers at the lanky megane sitting in front of you while he wore a sly grin which just made you want to punch him right on the nose. “What the fuck was that for?” You snarled, “You know how much I hate blood.”

Tsukishima wheezed, he genuinely couldn’t tell if you were being serious or not, “Then what are you doing in a biology class?” His question was barely audible through his gasps for as well as the sound of him slapping him knee.

You clicked your tongue, wiping the excess lamb juice off of your arm, “Joking.” You droned, turning to eye the heart on his desk. “Go on, dissect the thing.”

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

Flatbush & Atlantic: part i

Quick note: This is taking place in the 2020-21 season, as if the Islanders still play at Barclays; I know they won’t in actuality. In the story, I’m also going to be taking some liberties with what the duties of a team’s general counsel and legal team would actually be in charge of. My understanding, as a pre-law student, is that it’s more on the corporate angle, dealing with contracts and stuff — in addition to that, Cass will also be dealing with some more immigration and employment law as well. 

part i

October 1

“Adiós, mamá. Hablamos pronto. Te amo.” Cassidy hung up, breathing out a tense sigh and rubbing her temples with the heels of her hands. Talking to her mom usually helped to calm her down, bring her back to Earth, but for whatever reason it wasn’t taking. She took a brief glance at the casebook open on her dinged-up Ikea desk. Federal Indian Law. She liked the class, genuinely, but her day had started off bad and gotten worse pretty damn quickly. First she was out of her favorite tea, then her advisor cancelled their meeting, then it started raining as she walked back to her MTA stop, so she had missed the train. Another came fifteen minutes later, but the damage was already done. The only bright spot in the day, aside from calling her mom, had been the cute guy at the Polish deli down the street who had put extra peppers on her Philly cheesesteak. She unwrapped the sandwich, taking a moody bite out of the end. A caramelized onion dropped to the floor. Sighing, she leaned down to pick it up, hurtling it in the direction of the trashcan but only half-looking to see if it reached its target destination. Despite the name, Cass had never had a cheesesteak before she moved to New York, and it wasn’t even because she wasn’t a sandwich person. No, Cass loved a good sandwich, but between her proclivity towards a good BLT and her mom’s homemade Mexican food, she just hadn’t gotten around to it. 

Her laptop dinged with an email notification. What now? She swiped over to the mail page, taking another bite as she read the subject line. Experiential learning requirement - unmet. Her brow furrowed. Unmet? Clicking it open, she scanned the email, clearly something automated from the registrar’s office. Yet to complete Columbia’s experiential learning requirement...We suggest you connect with professors...You have until October 8 to submit...Cassidy never finished her sandwich. “Oh my God,” she muttered to herself, feeling her cheeks heat up. “How could you do this? How could you be so stupid, Cass?” She was normally so on top of everything, never missed a date, never forgot an assignment, so how could she have missed one of the only things left to do to graduate? Her law school required all of the graduates to complete some sort of experiential learning requirement — some kind of externship, clinic, summer associate position, anything to get them “out in the real world.” That’s when it hit her. She had coached her high school’s mock trial team the summer after her first year, and interned at the Hartford County DA’s the summer after. But they paid her. Her school had a weird ‘double-dip’ policy, where you weren’t allowed to take a position for class credit and get paid at the same time. It was a confusing rule, convoluted and bizarre and probably a little bit elitist, but it was a rule. As if the day couldn’t get any worse, and then somehow it did. 

Turning to her laptop, she started searching for just about anything that could possibly help her. The school’s website, the Manhattan District Attorney’s, state offices, NGOs, federal prosecutors, anyone that might have a lead. Frantically dragging over her resumé and throwing together a cover letter that probably (hopefully) looked way more interesting than it actually was, Cassidy fired off email after email after email. Two hours later, she had sent off some twenty-odd applications, hoping that at least one or two would end up panning out. Glancing at her watch, she let out an exasperated breath. 12:22 A.M. Her classes didn’t start until nine, but it took almost an hour and a subway connection to get to Columbia, and she had to eat and shower before. So, really, it meant getting up at about seven. She needed to go to bed. 

Stomach reeling and feeling more resigned than anything, Cass haphazardly brushed her teeth, flossed — it didn’t matter how tired she was, she’d never forget to floss — and clambered into bed, wearing a faded, way-too-big Rangers t-shirt. I’ll be okay. She took a deep breath. It’ll be okay. It has to be. Cassidy Cabrera Shaw was tough as nails and stubborn as hell, and she wasn’t going to let everything she had worked so hard for fall apart so easily. 

Whenever Cass was nervous, or anxious, or afraid, she was never able to sleep well. She ended up waking up at ten past six, sitting in her bed for fifteen minutes praying that she’d fall back asleep, and finally accepting her fate that sleep just wasn’t going to come. Rolling over, she grabbed her phone from where she had left it charging on the nightstand. Nightstand was maybe a generous term for it; technically, it was a wooden milk crate that she had spray painted white when she and the other girls had moved into the apartment two years prior. She had a little bit of money set aside from college, but every penny possible was going towards tuition and those ungodly-expensive books that she had to buy every semester. The mattress and frame were from Ikea, and Cass had brought some things like bedding and a desk from her old room. The rest of it — rugs, lighting, and decorations like her six-inch ceramic peacock (his name was Charles) had come from a combination of Goodwill runs and senior citizen yard sales. 

Wincing as she did so, Cass pulled up her email, bracing herself for the inevitable barrage of rejection. After scrolling past ten or so automated “no longer hiring” and “position has been filled” messages, one caught her eye. She had sent a few emails to professors of hers, not expecting to hear anything back for a few days. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but there certainly were advantages of going to school in a city as massive as New York. All of her professors knew someone and had some kind of connection from their own education, or days in the practice, or childhood summer trips to the Hamptons with someone who just so happened to be a judge on the Second Circuit Court — that last one was last year’s employment law professor. One particular subject line caught her eye. Thought you might be interested, Professor Murakami had written. David, as he preferred to be called, was her Sports Law professor from last year. She didn’t go into the class expecting to enjoy it all that much, if she was being honest. She had gotten a crappy registration time and most other classes were filled, so it had started out as a placeholder and nothing more. Over the semester, though, it had quickly become one of her favorites, combining pieces of everything else she had studied into one cohesive course. Cass also wasn’t in a position to be turning down any potential offers, so she opened the email and started reading. 

I got your email, Cassidy, and think I might be able to help. Okay, so far, so good. I happen to have a contact in the counsel’s office of one of the professional sports teams in the city. That’s exactly what Cass was talking about — where do these people meet each other? Is there some kind of exclusive speakeasy you’re given the password to as soon as you’re admitted to the state bar? Chris Cohen works for the Islanders, and I remember you talking about how interested in hockey you are. Okay, true, but the Islanders? She had practically been born with a Ranger’s jersey on. Beggars can’t be choosers, she thought. I gave him a heads-up that I’d likely be sending a promising candidate his way, so just let me know if this sounds like something you’d be interested in and I’ll send along your contact information. 

Cass couldn’t respond fast enough. Yes, please! 

---

Wednesdays were her ‘easy’ days, if you could say that. She had Environmental Law and Human Rights back-to-back, but anything after noon was pretty much fair game. That being said, it certainly didn’t mean that she was any less stressed. There were at least a hundred pages to read before class the next day, she had a sample essay due for bar prep, and her mind was still racing about the email. Grabbing a gyro from the cart outside of her last class of the day, Cass stress-ate with one hand while continually refreshing her inbox with the other.  Food wasn’t allowed in the library, so she ate the last few bites right outside the doors, throwing away the wrapper and squeezing past the hordes of clearly overwhelmed first-years running to get to class on time. 

Popping her Airpods out of their case and into her ears, Cass briskly made her way up the stairs to the third floor, crossing her fingers that her usual spot, a big blue chair over by the research desk, was open. She was in luck, pulling out a water bottle and laptop and getting to work on editing. Four hours later, she had reached some semblance of satisfaction with her work, shutting off her computer and making her way to the subway. There was about half an hour before she had to transfer to the line that would take her to the apartment; squeezing into one of the last free seats, she tugged out a textbook and a highlighter. Why her professor insisted on assigning the entire text of the United Nations charter was a mystery to her, but she’d rather jump off a cliff than be cold called on without an answer. Transferring at Grand Concourse took about ten minutes — it was rush hour, so the first train to come was entirely full — and another twenty or so minutes later, she was letting herself into her shared East Bronx apartment. 

Hanging up her denim jacket by the door and toeing off her sneakers, Cass let out a not-so-subtle exasperated sigh. 

“One of those days?” Alicia piped in from the kitchen. Alicia also lived in the apartment, one of the four sorority sisters-turned-roommates who had made the move from Connecticut down to New York after graduation. Cass padded into the kitchen, where she was greeted by Alicia in front of a skillet and rice cooker, intensely sautéeing some vegetables.

“You have no idea,” Cass said, hugging her from behind. “Whatcha making?” There were obviously some nights when not everyone was home — most often either Cass or Ryanne, who was in med school — but they always tried to have a few nights a week where someone would cook a meal for the whole house. 

“Japchae, it’s my mom’s recipe,” she replied. “I called her and asked how much sesame oil to use, and she just said ‘until it tastes right.’ Like, I love you, Mom, but that doesn’t really help my cause, does it?”

Cass snorted. “Oh for sure, it’s the same way with me. Do you remember the first time I made tamales down here?” Cass had grown up eating and making tamales with her mom and abuela, but she had never been allowed to really take the reins. She had the recipe, though, so the first night after they were moved in, she ventured down to the closest bodega, bought the ingredients, and decided to try her hand making them from scratch. The recipe, however, left out the key piece of exactly how much water to use for steaming — Cass didn’t know, and her mom had always just eyeballed it. So she had ended up putting in way too little and setting the stove way too hot, and to make a long story short, ended up setting off the fire alarm. The one saving grace was the extremely attractive police office that came to double-check the false alarm, but even he couldn’t wipe the mortified expression off of her face. 

“How could I forget?” Alicia responded with a grin. “Go put your shit down, it’ll be ready in a few.”

Cass playfully rolled her eyes, heading towards her room in the back. “Yes, mother.” Their apartment was a three bedroom; while obviously it would have been amazing for everyone to have their own, it was still New York City and none of them were exactly rolling in the dough. Cassidy and Ryanne were obviously still students, and while Alicia and Stella had actual jobs  — Stella worked international business down by Wall Street and Alicia did something with satellites in Queens — none of them were exactly inclined to set out on their own just yet. So Stella and Alicia shared a room, and she and Ryanne had their own. She shrugged off her jacket, slinging her backpack onto the bed before chugging the rest of her water bottle and checking her phone. Two new emails. A 20% off coupon to Lush, and one from Chris Cohen. Chris Cohen? It took her a minute to remember, but when she did, she couldn’t read it fast enough.

Honestly, Cass didn’t read the whole thing, but got enough information to know that she had an interview Friday afternoon at the office in Brooklyn, that Chris  — he had said to call him Chris — said she came with a stellar recommendation from Professor Murakami (an old law school buddy, figures) and that there was no way in hell she was going to fuck this up. She wouldn’t let herself. 

---

Cass was lucky her Thursdays were so packed; if she had any extra time to stress over her impending interview, she would have, but she couldn’t. She had two ‘free’ hours in between classes, but after she had scarfed down lunch (Alicia had, mercifully, made plenty of leftovers) it was the only stretch she had to hit the gym. Coupled with the time it took to walk there, change, and shower after, there really wasn’t much in the way of downtime. After classes was her bar prep group, and the day was so exhausting that it was pretty much all she could manage to take the train home, microwave dinosaur chicken nuggets, and stumble into bed. After flossing. 

---

If Cassidy lived in any other city, she would have felt wildly out of place on her morning commute. Who shows up to school wearing a suit? She wasn’t an absolute masochist, so her heels were in her bag. But for once in her life she didn’t feel so out of place among the presumably-highbrow, presumably-making-six-figures crowd surrounding her. The suit had been her first big purchase for herself  — she had scraped by without one in college, but invested as soon as she had a little saved up from her summer job at a boutique in town. Her mother had always told her that it was the woman who made the clothes, rather than the other way around, and Cass always did what her mom said. 

Samaira, one of her friends and another editor on the Columbia Law Review, caught up to her as they both left the twice-weekly morning meeting. “You seem kind of jumpy, Cass. What’s up?”

Cassidy wrung her hands and shrugged her shoulders. “I told you that I missed the internship requirement thing, right?” Samaira nodded. “Well, I have an internship in,” she paused to look at her watch, “two hours, and I’m so nervous I’m going to mess this up. I don’t know what I’m going to do if I don’t get it. There’s not time to look for something else, there’s no alternative, and I don’t know what to do if my own stupidity and forgetfulness is the only thing standing in between me and something I’ve worked so fucking hard for—”

Samaira cut her off. “I’m going to stop you there. That’s bull, Cass, and you know it. You are the furthest thing from a disappointment. You’re one of the kindest, sharpest, and most creative people I know, and you’re not going to let something as petty as a deadline stand in your way. Time gets away from all of us sometimes, and it’s nothing to beat yourself up over. I want you to be confident and have faith in yourself, because you deserve it, but if you don’t, it’s okay. I get it. I believe in you enough for the both of us.” She squeezed Cass’ hand. 

She managed a watery smile. “Thanks, Samaira.”

“Any time,” she replied easily. “I’ve got to run to class now, but I want to hear how it went the second you get out, okay?”

“I will.”

Samaira rolled her eyes. “I mean it. You’re going to crush this, Cass. Love you!” She added, waving goodbye as she turned the corner.

There was half an hour before Cass needed to head over to the interview, and before she knew it her feet had taken her to her favorite spot on the north side of Central Park. Grabbing a bagel, she thankfully found the bench empty. After finishing the bagel — she would have preferred cheese, but they were out, so cinnamon raisin it was — and the better part of her Hozier-dominated acoustic playlist, it was time to catch the train. She jumped on with barely a second to spare, grabbing a strap and trying to avoid bumping into anyone. 

A seat opened up about halfway to Brooklyn, and Cass took the opportunity to unceremoniously tug off her much more practical flats and switch into the much more professional ankle-strap heels that had been stuffed in her backpack all day. For a fleeting moment, she was worried what everyone around her would think; she was, after all, technically changing on public transportation. A man got on at the next stop who was dressed head-to-toe in neon orange while carrying a Pomeranian in his purse. Nobody batted an eye. She got over herself pretty quickly.

Getting off at the Barclays Center station, Cass pulled out her phone, opening up the camera to give herself a quick once-over. As much as she hated it, first impressions really were everything. Lipstick? Not smudged. Hair? Minimal flyaways. Teeth? No spinach to be seen. Triple-checking that she had the time right, Cass walked through the doors of the office building, Islanders logo emblazoned on the wall behind the secretary’s desk. 

“Hi,” she said tentatively, catching his attention. “I have an interview with Chris Cohen at 2?” 

The secretary nodded, smiling warmly at her. “No problem. I’m Josh, you can have a seat over there,” he nodded to the small waiting area off to the side, “and I’ll call you when he’s ready for you to be sent up.”

Cass didn’t wait for more than five minutes before Josh gave her the go-ahead, and she was soon headed up the elevator to Chris’ office. “Fourth door on the left. It should have his name on it,” Josh had added. 

She raised her fist, knocking quickly on the frosted glass. It swung open a second later, a kind-looking man with glasses and salt-and-pepper hair answering. “You must be Cassidy. I’m Chris Cohen, so nice to meet you. Come right in,” he said, ushering her through the room, where several other associates sat at desks, and into his office. 

“David’s always good at keeping an eye out for me in his courses, and I was happy he passed you along,” Chris said, pulling out her resumé. “And you’re a 3L, correct?” She nodded. “Good. So let’s dive right into it. What courses and work experience do you have that you feel best position you for success in this position?” Much though Cass was loath to admit it, if there was anything she was good at, it was talking herself up. There was a reason her high school superlative was “Most Likely to be Able to Talk Their Way Out of a Ticket.” She launched into a well-rehearsed response, making sure to lace in her love for hockey once or twice. If nothing else, it would hopefully at least get her some brownie points. He had a few questions about her resumé, asked about her work on the law review, a few hypotheticals about contract law. She was batting a thousand until he asked the dreaded final question. “Do you have any questions for me?” 

Cass was wracking her brain, trying to come up with some intelligent-sounding thing to ask, but nothing came. “Uh—” she started, but was saved by the bell. Or, rather, saved by a frantic door opening and a panicked-sounding Mat Barzal bursting into the room. “Chris, I’ve got a problem.”

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S4 Ep 14 Pt1: Rex and Weevils Ultimate Betrayal No One Gave a Damn About

Just finished watching the Superbowl, which I never ever do, and it was VERY confusing and I thought I remembered this sport but I did not. I don’t know what’s happening. I do not understand how Kansas City got that field goal on San Fransisco when their feet never touched the goal line. So, I’m just gonna...change gears completely and wrap up this long post about a VERY complicated anime that came out before some of y’all were born, instead. Today I just really wanted to feel lost.

Last episode, Yugi (the main character of the show, the one this show is named after) hella died, and Rex and Weevil decided to leave the party very, very quickly.

You’d think that the one event (Yugi’s dead) would have to do with the other event (getting the hellllll away), considering how rude and judgy Yami is, but they actually left for cards. They accidentally did a very wise decision in order to do something incredibly stupid and cancel out any wisdom they showed in pedaling as fast as they could possibly pedal away from the reincarnated ghost who just very suddenly achieved full control of a human body.

They accidentally pedaled away from every Mummy movie super villain and somehow ended up with a much more worse villain.

Like I say that this whole season is about Yugi’s crazy commute, but Rex and Weevil’s commute has just been so much more. They are just clinging to whatever vehicle is near them in order to find these legendary cards sitting somewhere in American Soil. They are so ambivalent to all the very real world terrible problems around them because they’re PRETTY SURE they’re gonna get rich. It’s like the Gold Rush but with helicopters.

Also the 49ers never rode tandem bikes, but you know they would’ve if they could’ve.

And for some, weird reason, Rafeal decides not to pick them up under his arms and toss them directly onto an unsuspecting Joey Wheeler like he just did with Yugi. Rafael and Alister decided...nah...I’ll keep these strange small manchildren.

It seems really off brand for Rafael and Alister but maybe they just got too tired to deal with it right now.

Speaking of tired--this horse.

I mean I’ll do the math eventually--not this post but maybe the next one I just did a lot of math trying to remember why the hell it’s 6 points for a goal in football--but this horse that we estimated would take over 20 days to ride to Death Valley just rode all the way back in the same day. Congratulations horse, the strongest force in all of Yugioh, (second to Yugi’s neck, holding that 70 lb necklace at all hours of the day.)

The girls seem to think that everything is OK initially, mostly because Yugi doesn’t really lose games that often, since the list of ways to beat Yugi in a card game up until now didn’t include “trick Yami into murdering the hell out of Yugi Muto.” Crazy that that actually worked, but Yami isn’t that bright.

PS please admire how chubby this horse appears in this scene.

OK I’m glad we all acknowledged the elephant in the room that was a horse last shot.

Also...maybe he didn’t hug her back because she just shoved a very sharp pyramid necklace straight into his small intestines?

(more under the cut)

I’ll spare you Transatlantacism this time.

Tea is concerned but more surprised than straight up angry. An anger which is more honed by Rebecca because Yami just killed her only friend (other than this horse) and possibly her only future husband that would ever put up with her (other than this horse.)

Like it seems kind of rude in the show out of context that everyone took a moment to lay a big dump on Yami Muto, but can you imagine if you straight up killed your twin (by accident but only by like 75% accident, lets be real) and this was your only punishment?

Like getting punched out is just how Yami treats himself every single day, so I don’t think Joey made too much of a difference in the situation. But you know, it’s Yugioh, so getting punched does is somehow the correct answer.

It was very lucky for Yami that Tea was too busy trying to console Rebecca to punch Yami before Joey got to him first because hot damn that would have sent him straight back to Death Valley.

And then I think this next exchange between Duke and Tristan was somewhat lost in translation. Please admire the censorship here. Safe for kids now.

I say this like a joke but have you seen Equinox? I live in the Bay, so trust me. Equinox is absolutely reviving the Great Leviathan. No doubt in my mind.

Anyway, Rafael and Alister hear Rex and Weevil’s plea to join the evil task force and they’re like...

...yeah, I guess you can apply, why not? No need to interview your or anything before we harass Darts with you.

Like Rafael and Alister were completely bonkers children that were driven to insanity by very extreme circumstances, and then there’s Rex and Weevil. They’re just...kind of middling at cards and that’s it.

But sure, yeah, I’m sure they’ll fit right into the completely maniacal card corporate atmosphere here at DartsCorp. I’m sure Rex and Weevil will jump out of a plane on a motorcycle and then do stunts all the way towards Atlantis Island.

Sure.

(course, now that I think of it, they did introduce themselves to Alister and Rafael by accidentally doing a stunt over a canyon onto a helicopter so...maybe they accidentally think Rex and Weevil are cool?)

Which, in hindsight, makes Mai make a hell of a lot more sense because y’all, they should be SO distracted right now, and shouldn’t let anyone in here who isn’t insane or insanely good at cards. But instead they’re like...I guess you have a duel disk, you’ll work. It’s not like there’s a line of people at the door.

Anyway, because the show has to acknowledge that there might be new viewers, they do their best to try and explain this very lengthy Yugi mechanic as if we’ve never heard it before and honestly, it just sounded like everyone was very frustrated.

Like for reals what is he wearing?

Why are there so few normal ass suits in Yugioh? Why is KAIBA the only person who knows what colors belong on a fitted suit? (And he just wears white, which isn’t a color and is always very safe but youknow it still boggles my mind that the power suit people are so into very friendly soft pastels from Gozaburo, to Pegasus, to Noah, to Darts.)

I would wear this suit to Easter Sunday. Darts just wears it every day.

And so then we get a little insight into what it takes to become an Orichalcos card champion.

While before, Darts just kinda poked Mai in the forehead and she was instantly imbued with Aqua Green Evilness, he decided to do a weird test on Rex and Weevil. Just to make sure they realllllly wanted to be here.

As if they didn’t stow away in a 18 hour flight stuffed into a handbag, hold in their piss for said 18 hours, then get shipped by accident to the Tenderloin, where they were mugged twice, and then get shoved into the trunk of Duke’s car, and then took a broken tandem bike to the hottest desert in America, where they then rode said bike off of a cliff in order to hang onto a flying helicopter.

Like I think this test was unnecessary, I think they want to be here.

But youknow, I think Darts just wanted to torture em for kicks.

And then Rex and Weevil have to grab two of these Oricalchos stones that were farting special effects and were very, very opposed to being owned by Rex and Weevil. But they managed to do it.

And uh congrats--their betrayal has begun!

And I don’t think anyone else on this show even recognized that they freakin left. Like they just kinda disappeared in Death Valley and then Duke was like “eh. They’ll find their way home.”

Kind of incredible that Joey and friends left these two stranded in Death Valley, That alone should have killed Rex and Weevil and like...Wow. Wow is Joey and co such a freakin asshole.

So don’t leave people stranded in Death Valley, they will join a card cult and freakin kill you. If the insane heat doesn’t kill them first.

And then because...I don’t know...I don’t know why, after sending his best and brightest fighters, Darts decided to downgrade and do this:

(based on a true story where a friend of mine worked as an intern in the city, and because they couldn’t pay him a living wage, he lived in a closet at said startup for nearly 2 years. Start-up culture is pretty real, folks, it’s PRETTY REAL. But, on the bright side, at least they had a shower in-house.)

So, I’m gonna go remove my contacts and try to forget how much queso I ate at that Superbowl party.

It was a lot of queso.

and if you just got here, this is a handy link to read these from the start.

PS anyone else pull the Yugioh fest in PAD? Because I have played this game...a lot over the course of 5 years and saved up over 300 free stones for several months in anticipation for this collab and then I pulled Kuriboh about 15 times. Most of you have no idea what that means, but for some of you out there, your heart just broke for me 15 times. (I did get 2 Yugis so I’m fine, but damn it) Then, bro saved up his stones and pulled Seto Kaiba, Marik, and Bakura all in a row. Freakin gotcha games, man. Freakin gotcha games.

[cruisador-blog]

The Nick Names

As I had just mentioned I had remembered one final thing about the Charleston trip. After Steve and I finished our "quickie" and Barry was at the Farmers Market, I had crawled back into bed on the sofa and fell asleep. When I woke up Barry was back from the Farmers Market with all sorts of goodies. The best of which was Pralines, although there were cookies and some other sweets. He had a flyer with him that he had picked up about a craft fair in Foley Beach. On the map, it looked close to where we were. I said that I would love to go and said I could be ready in no time. I got up once again buck naked and grabbed my bag and headed for the shower. I soon realized I had forgot to pack one or two things, my underwear. I had underwear from the day before but it was black and I had just bought a white sundress with yellow polka dots. There was a store across the street that I figured I could go and purchase something from over there. I was a little nervous about going outside. Not because I was thinking that there were Private Investigators waiting for me, but because when I was about 15, I was expecting something in the mailbox from my uncle.  When I heard the mail truck I went running to the mailbox in gym shorts and a tee shirt. My mom was waiting for me at the front door yelling at me because I went out without a bra. She was telling me that they would start calling me "Nipply Nancy or high beam Hannah" or something stupid like that. I was 15 and flat as a board. She had a habit of being at the wrong place at the right time. I had ended up packing a wig. It was the wig that my ex and I used when he wanted me to be naughty. There were a lot of times when I felt naughty and would put it on before he came home. I had brought it this time as a disguise.

 I was 99.9% certain that I was not followed but for some reason felt more comfortable if I wore it. The plan was that Barry and I would go to the store across the street and Steve would pick us up outside. It was quite the interesting walk to the store. I had never gone out without a bra, oh and I didn't have panties either. When we got to the store it was not open yet. When Steve pulled up, we got in the car and headed for the craft fair. Sometime during the show they said to me, "You look just like the girl from Peggy Sue got Married." The rest of the day I was known as Peggy Sue. Actually, from then on out I was referred to as Peggy Sue. Eventually when I got an email address it had Peggy Sue in the address.

We got back to the hotel and exchanged phone numbers. We said our good byes. When I got back to the house, It was like nobody knew I had gone out of town. A few weeks later I spoke with them on the phone. 6 months later I got a Christmas card and four months after that they called again and asked if I wanted to come to Myrtle Beach for a night the following month. I said I would get back with them, but didn't think I would go. I had been seeing someone and didn't think it would be appropriate. A few days later I started thinking about our night in the Charleston and as time went by all I could think about was just getting to the coast again. I bet for 3 months after our rendezvous in Charleston I had thought about that night every single day. About 2 weeks after I wrote 2 pages front and back about the entire experience. I decided that I would meet them down there and while nothing could compare with the year before, It was still incredible. The following year I agreed to meet them overnight again. We went back to Charleston.

ATLANTA 1995

In the summer of 1994 I had gone back to work for the University. I had been working on my Thesis for a while and was hired as a Professor. The Professor I had been under was leaving and he had contacted the school and told the school that I might be a good candidate for his position when he left. They gave me a year to complete my doctorate before I was a full fledged member of the faculty.

I got my yearly call from "the boys" in April and with the new job had to tell them that I couldn't make it this time but maybe we could do a weekend at the end of the summer. 

I had read an article about some new research that had been done and thought it might lend itself to what I was doing at the University. I asked my supervisor if he new anything about it. I explained why I was so interested and the potential I thought it had on my work. About two months later I saw where the guy was giving a seminar in Atlanta and a few other cities. I only saw Atlanta when I read it. I approached my supervisor and asked if the school would flip the bill for me to attend the seminar. As I was still very new, he stalled, but I wore him down in the end and he asked for my estimates on the cost. I was given my estimates back with most of the items scratched off. If I remember correctly they would pay $300. I submitted bills for twice that. They would pay for the hotel, no airfare but they would pay for my mileage to drive at so many cents a mile, and the cost of the seminar. No meals, parking, incidentals, etc.

At the time I had been seeing a guy for almost a year. He travel extensively and one night we were talking about my trip to Atlanta. I told him what the school was willing to pay and that I was being forced to drive while I wanted to fly. He saw what I had given to the school and he said that I should be able to fly and do everything for that amount of reimbursement. He got on the phone with the airline and then the hotel. By flying in a day early and staying over a Saturday night the flight dropped substantially. It would mean another day at the hotel but I knew I could probably stay with the boys on the Saturday. I did want to stay at the hotel the night before the seminar. I couldn't take the chance of coming in late or missing it because we had car problems or anything. Two nights with the boys would have been too much anyway. In the end I wound up out of pocket twenty to thirty dollars and I didn't have to drive.

I arrived at the airport early and was excited about the trip. Right before boarding a lady came in on crutches and sat across from me. We started talking and she was a retired teacher that had been visiting her grandkids and had fallen over one of them and tore something in her ankle. The boarding started and I had the seat right in back of first class so I was one of the first to board. After most of the people had boarded the flight attendant came up to a few of us sitting there and asked if anyone would be willing to change seats. Right in back of her was the lady on crutches and I would have felt bad if I said no. The seat I was in had a little more leg room than the seats with a chair in front. So off I go following the attendant toward the back. All the way back to like the third seat from the tail. The attendant said they would comp anything I wanted and I jokingly said, "like Bloody Mary's" ? Right before beverage service she came to me with a Bloody Mary. At the end of the flight she gave me an airport voucher worth $10. It took forever to get off the plane that far back and when I was on my way to find the hotel shuttles I decided to use the voucher and get another Bloody Mary. I knew if I didn't use the voucher it would go to waste. What I didn't realize at the time was the guy I had been seeing had gotten up early and had driven to Atlanta to meet me, I guess at baggage claim as a surprise. He had made my flight and my hotel reservations so he knew everything about my trip. Although he didn't know I had cancelled my Saturday night hotel reservation. That could have been a disaster. I found out about it later when I got home and heard all of the messages he had left on my answering machine.

Barry had gone into work to do a little and I took the shuttle to his hotel. He used the opportunity to parade me around as his girlfriend. He was not out of the closet and I had done this stunt with him before when he lived in my apartment complex. I went to their Christmas party and a corporate picnic as his date. That would have been 10 years earlier. After he had made sure everyone had seen us together we headed off to where Steve was working and we sat at a table in the kitchen. Steve was being his typical culinary professional and was giving us sample of this and that and of course letting us sample a lot of wine. Between the Bloody Mary's and the wine I could tell I was feeling no pain.

We were at their home in no time. They lived on the outskirts of the city and entering their neighborhood I could see downtown and easily count the floors of the buildings. They had been talking about a water park and also washing Steve's new car. He had gotten a deal on a 1975 Monte Carlo with around fifty thousand miles. He had always wanted a classic car and this one was pristine. I remember it had swivel bucket seats. That's another story that I wont get into. So the water park and car wash was actually in their back yard. Steve backed his car out of the basement garage and they had 2 black hoses attached to sprinklers on each side of the car. We were all in our bathing suits washing his car. The water coming out of the sprinklers was hot and we were having a good time talking and having fun in the water. Steve was up front taking a tooth brush to the front grill and I was soaping up the back trunk. Barry comes up from behind me and grabs my hand and says, "wax on, wax off". Some people will know that movie line but then he pressed up against me and I turned around and he was completely naked. Being that close to downtown it was secluded. They were on a flood plain as it was all woods in the back and being on a cul-de-sac offered some privacy also. The next thing I know he picks me up and puts me on the trunk and pulls down my bathing suit. Steve was completely oblivious to what was going on and all I could do is stare at the corner of the house waiting for the neighbor, or a delivery driver, or a group of Girl Scouts to come around the corner while he was fucking me. He calls out to Steve and that is when I hop off of him. I was not going to have a threesome in the back yard. We finished washing the car and went upstairs. Steve said we should do a shot. I knew what the shot was about. He wanted to put me over the edge so they could have their way with me. So by now, I had 2 Bloody Mary's, probably 3 glasses of wine at the restaurant and another glass at their house. The shot was not a good idea. It was called a "Coma" and it had a shot of cherry cough medicine, a shot of Bacardi 151 and 2 other liquors. It was like drinking candy but it made me sick and I asked to go lie down. I had been drinking since before 10 am and did not have anywhere near enough to eat. I laid across their bed on towels and passed out. A couple hours later I woke up and knew we were going to a friend of theirs new restaurant for dinner so I tried to get up and pull it together. I needed a shower and went into their bathroom and turned on the shower. There was a small stool in the corner and I put that under the shower head and sat down. I might had fallen asleep again. Next thing I know is the both of them are stepping into the shower with me. I'm still groggy and I have 2 penis at eye level. I ended up sucking them both off. They got out of the shower and after I had washed up I stepped out and they asked what was on my butt. I had been sitting on that stool for so long that the Cosco logo had imprinted on my ass. That's how I got my second nick name. CoCo butt. I guess the "S" was in my butt crack. That was the name that stuck and while Peggy Sue was used, CoCo was generally what they called me. When they had sent me an email, I would usually get a message on my machine asking if I had seen Peggy Sue. That was their way of asking me to call them back. It was great, if someone was there with me I wouldn't have to explain who was calling. They were looking for someone else.