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#Bonanza 2 sure today live
mycryptosuite · 1 year
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olivinesea · 3 years
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In the Golden Dark, pt. 2
Part 1
a/n: This was already pretty much done so here you go. These parts are all rather short but that can be nice right? ~1.6k
i can’t concentrate if i keep seeing your face showing up in tea leaves lit up on my tv i can’t stand up straight under your gravity so i lay awake with my eyes closed
“Did you know 12% of people dream in black and white?”
“Wha-what?” Hotch groggily looked at the time on his phone. He had answered it blindly, autopilot kicking in to attend to the buzzing beside him on the couch. He blinked again and brought the phone back to his ear to hear Spencer’s voice more clearly.
“Yeah! It used to be a lot more when television was only in black and white but now that’s shifted obviously. Elderly people are still a lot more likely to have dreams that are—“
“Spencer,” Hotch interrupted the way the words were beginning to tumble out. When he was met with an abrupt silence he realized he didn’t have a follow up, he just needed a moment to breathe. To take in the dark living room, the flickering light of the television, its muted colors and grainy film showing a syndicated rerun, the kind only played in the middle of the night or the middle of the day, times when no productive person was meant to be watching. Something soft in its age, he found it comforting to put it on when he couldn’t sleep, woken again by nightmares that some monster had found their way to Haley and Jack. That they were suffering and he didn’t even know.
On the other end of the line, Spencer held his breath. He had been nervous about making the call, he wasn’t sure if it was too intrusive, too far across the boundaries they normally worked within. It wasn’t that he was worried about waking Hotch, he knew the other man was already awake. Even before they had started talking more, casually sharing details about the time they spent away from the office, it was obvious that Hotch did not sleep like a normal person. It was something else that they shared.
Seemingly endless minutes passed without another word from either man and his fear that he’d made a mistake grew. He told himself that Hotch was not pleased with the interruption. That he was being too assuming—why would Hotch be interested in anything he had to say at three in the morning? He’d called spurred on by the acute need to share a thought and, though he wasn’t totally conscious of it, a wish to hear that comforting voice, maybe even a quiet chuckle. He had smiled imagining that gentle sound, only he hadn’t realized it, the corners of his mouth moving without informing the rest of his mind. He touched his lips now with cold fingertips, running them over the dry skin, oblivious to the way his jaw clenched.
The silence between them hung like a bridge. There was a moment where both of them looked out at their respective living rooms, mentally steeling themselves to take a step and hope the other would meet them. Hope that they wouldn’t find themselves suspended over the water, alone as ever.
“I’m sorry for calling so late,” Spencer sounded so remorseful Hotch felt guilty immediately. He hadn’t meant cause him any anxiety with his long silence, he was just trying his best to gather his thoughts. To make sense of what he meant to do.
“It’s ok, really, I—“ Hotch hesitated, unsure how much detail to go into, how much reassurance was the right amount. He felt unreasonably awkward suddenly and twitched his fingers in irritation, “I wasn’t really sleeping anyway.”
“Really?” Spencer scrunched his eyes up, disliking the eagerness bleeding from his voice. He couldn’t help it though, the prospect of having the other man’s attention, even if it was only his voice reflecting from a satellite, knowing that Hotch was listening made him feel more secure. He’d spent too many restless nights pacing his apartment, starting and abandoning tasks in attempts to distract himself from the way the night was pressing uncomfortably close, threatening to overtake his mind. To have a friend to talk to, to reflect back his own reality, was a gift he could barely believe he deserved.
Hotch grunted as he adjusted himself on the couch cushions, supporting the back of his head on the pillows, resting the phone between his shoulder and ear. With his free hand he pulled up the blanket that had tangled at his feet. “Wide awake,” he said dryly. “What were you saying about dreams?”
Spencer’s smile was so big Hotch could hear it through the phone as the man stumbled ahead with the details of some completely unnecessary study. Hotch wanted to ask what had led to him reading such a thing but he was enjoying the happy way Spencer was running through all the new material he’d learned. He adored listening to Spencer speak, how he sometimes stopped short when remembering a related detail and how there’d be a pause while he took a split second to make the choice whether to jump to the new train of thought. Hotch smiled to himself and was pleased enough to offer hums of interest at inflection points. He let his eyes wander back to the television, as the title credits of another episode of Bonanza played across the screen, the pale wheat and horses and cowboys, already a distant fantasy in the 1960s, ancient history by today’s standards. His eyes fell half closed as he continued to listen to Reid’s voice.
“And, they just published a new study about how sleep deprivation decreases the body’s pain tolerance.”
Hotch snorted softly at this. “They really had to get a bunch of scientists together to figure that out? Someone paid for that?”
“Well it is always important to gather data and scientific evidence for these types of things. Anecdotal testimony won’t lead to any developments in the care for conditions like chronic pain,” Reid paused when he heard more quiet laughter from Aaron. He grinned.
“Do you want to hear something really crazy? They’ve found a connection between a person’s favorite sleeping position and their personality. Can you imagine!”
“Hmmph,” Hotch sank deeper into the cushions, settling in for whatever came next.
*
The calls became as regular as the midnight pancakes. Spencer would call with some piece of trivia, every night a new topic. He had a seemingly endless well of knowledge to draw on. In truth he spent the day trying to think of new ideas to share, new information he thought Hotch would appreciate. For no reason other than his own private satisfaction, he grouped topics thematically. This week they were going to be talking about space.
Now Hotch was ready, drowsy but checking his phone every few minutes to see if he’d somehow missed it ringing. He was looking at it yet again when it buzzed. He stared at the screen for a moment before answering, letting the name that flashed send a small thrill up his spine. He was not sure how it’d happened but he had come to rely on these calls. They still hadn’t discussed it, hadn’t acknowledged what this extracurricular time spent together might mean. They were simply seeking comfort, not questioning how this might be perceived outside these invisible moments.
“Hey Spence,” he barely got the words out before Spencer launched into that night’s prepared curiosities.
“Did you know most of the visible stars are actually multiple star systems? The singular stars are so much harder to see that astronomers used to believe that it was fairly uncommon to find a singular star like our sun.They hypothesized this was a contributing factor to why we hadn’t found evidence of extraterrestrial life. It is much harder for a planet to have the stability necessary for a habitable atmosphere with the potential fluctuations of a binary star system. Without as many single stars it made sense that it was exceedingly unlikely for life to form outside of our solar system.”
“I think it’d be nice,” Hotch murmured, not really thinking about what he was saying.
“What’s that?”
“Oh, ah,” Hotch stammered, a little embarrassed to have the comment acknowledged. He felt his neck growing warm as he tried to make out a reply. ���Well, having two suns. I think it could be nice."
 “Why?” Spencer was genuinely curious.
“Um, I guess, I imagine it would be warmer for one,” he paused before adding on, waiting to see what Spencer’s reaction might be. He could almost hear the wheels of his mind turning with all the reasons Hotch’s logic was faulty. He hurried on before he became too self-conscious to finish his thought. “And, I’ve just never really liked the night, all the darkness. Maybe with two suns we could have a little more light in the world.”
Instead of responding, Spencer remained quiet, surprised by this uncharacteristically whimsical thought. Hotch could feel his whole neck had turned red, along with the warming tips of his ears.
“I—I don’t really like the night either,” he tried to sympathize. “It can feel…overwhelming.”
They sat for a moment, not sure where to take this or how the facts had turned into feelings.
“I’m happy I have you to talk to though.”
It was simple, but it was true and sweet and Hotch smiled, closing his eyes to better absorb the words.
“I’m happy too, Spencer.”
Now they were both blushing, the depth of meaning behind these brief statements readily apparent. For a moment, feeling the heat dancing across his face, Hotch wondered if this wasn’t a mistake. Maybe he was allowing things to become something irresponsible, something he couldn’t so easily walk back. He pictured Spencer, sitting across from him, animated and full of life, pulling further away from the shadows that teased around the edges. It didn’t matter, he decided. It didn’t matter what this was, only that they had found a hand to hold through the night.
“So, what else have you got for me?”
~Part 3~
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purpleandgreen13 · 3 years
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Gus and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day.
The lovely and talented @runawayface and I have decided to swap writing prompts to keep us from getting stale with our long WiPs.
Runa has already posted her response to the title prompt, (go and read it on her villagers page, it's fun!)
And here's mine, of course, we both had to include some Harvey in there too!
Gus and the terrible, horrible, no good very bad day
The Queen of Sauce was holding her ‘Autumn Bonanza Big Time Giveaway’ this evening. The whole of Pelican town was expected to gather in the bar tonight to watch the results. It was a big event in Stardew Valley and almost everyone had a ticket.
Gus had bought a ticket to this annual lottery every year since moving to the valley. Not once had he won. It wasn’t surprising. Everyone who knew Gus was aware that he might just be the unluckiest person in all of Pelican Town, if not the entire valley.
If there was a banana peel, Gus’s foot would find it and slip on it, if a bet was made, Gus would lose it, if there was a mirror, Gus would break it.
At least twice a week Gus would drop a glass or an entire tray of drinks in his bar, sending up a loud cheer amongst the drinkers present. He did it with such alarming regularity that residents began to worry that *their* luck was on the downturn if he didn’t achieve at least one broken glass every seven days or so.
Today had started well enough, the skies were clear and the air was warm, unusual for this late in the autumn, but had soon turned sour, literally. Opening the bar’s refrigerator, he cursed the overly warm weather when he realised that it had shut down and everything stored in there was ruined. Food that had been prepared for customers today was room temperature and already starting to smell.
Gus cursed his usual luck, shut the door to the fridge, tried turning it off and on again. Nothing. The fridge was well and truly dead. He shouldn’t be surprised, he’d had the fridge since moving to the valley almost 2 decades ago. He’d deal with the off food later, but now he had to replace the food he’d lost and set about ordering a replacement fridge before he lost too much business.
Somehow he managed to trap his tie in the door as he shut it, almost strangling himself. As always he blamed his bad luck.
He trudged over the Pierre’s general store with a list in his head for replacement food, but alas! His luck was out again.
“I’m sorry Gus, I’m waiting for a shipment from Westerly Farm. We’ve got precious little in stock. Oh! We’re having a run on creamed corn – it’s half price. Does that help?”
Gus scowled. This was NOT helping, but he replied in a pleasant manner, no use in taking his mood out on Pierre.
“No, but thanks for trying Pierre. I’ll walk up to the farm.”
As he left the shop for the path to Westerly Farm, Gus almost bumped into Doctor Harvey, leaving his clinic to take his daily walk.
“Sorry doc!”
“No harm done.” Said Harvey mildly before noticing Gus’s downcast face, “Are you alright Gus? You look like you’ve lost a prismatic shard and found a spring onion!”
Gus forced a smile at Harvey’s quaint turn of phrase. “I’m fine thanks doc, the usual ‘Gus’s luck’ kicking in strong today.”
“How do you mean?” Harvey frowned.
“Oh, you know, my usual story of bad luck. Oh come on Doc!” Gus bridled at Harvey’s quizzical look. “You must know that I have the worst luck in the valley? It’s common knowledge.”
Harvey, often oblivious to the gossip, or small details about people’s lives in the valley, was still frowning, “IS that what you believe? That you are, and forgive me if I’m putting words in your mouth, cursed with bad luck?”
Even Gus knew how ridiculous that sounded now he’d verbalised it. Embarrassed, he laughed, “Yeah, something like that.”
“Hmm, sounds like a bad case of confirmation bias to me Gus. Try and focus on the good things rather than the bad.”
“I’ll try. Well, I’d best get on. Thanks for the advice.” He turned to leave and was immediately hit in the head by a stray gridball coming from the direction of the Mullner’s house. Gus stumbled forward, losing his footing and fell heavily, with an audible thud he landed on his wrist twisting it at an odd angle.
Harvey jumped into doctor mode immediately, helping Gus into the clinic and applying an ice pack to the wrist and cleaning up the grazes on his hand. He bandaged Gus’s wrist to support it through the busy evening ahead.
“What were you saying about confirmation bias doc?” Gus grumbled.
“Hmm, Alex needs to be more careful when he’s training. An accident. Nothing to do with luck.” Harvey observed.
As he watched Gus leave the clinic, Harvey worried about him. Harvey worried about everyone, but he worried that Gus had led himself into a way of thinking that was detrimental to his well-being. He wondered what he could do to help. After a few moments in deep contemplation, he messaged his farmer friend from Westerly Farm.
Gus by way of coincidence took his leave of the doctor and made his way west to that same farm. Again, he was out of luck. There was a note on the door which read:
“Gone to the Skull Caverns. Back later.”
“DAMN!” Gus was starting to feel cursed. He had no food for the bar for the communal watch of the Queen of Sauce giveaway, he’d sprained his wrist and at this very moment, he wanted nothing more than to go and lock himself in his room for the rest of the day.
In the end he swallowed his loathing of big corporations and bought ready-made snacks from Jojamart in preparation for the busy night ahead.
“You hear about the Giveaway tonight?” Morris wheedled. The Jojamart manager’s unctuous tones grated on Gus’s nerves.
“Apparently, it’s a state of the art, brand new commercial fridge.”
Gus groaned. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He had the ticket to the giveaway in his pocket, the thought of winning a brand-new fridge when his had just given up the ghost, was too exciting, but he knew he couldn’t build his hopes up. Not with his luck. And certainly not today.
By the time of the giveaway, that evening, the bar was packed full of people. Every table was full and every stool at the bar was occupied. Gus was pleased, but he couldn’t take his mind off the main prize in tonight’s draw. If only, for once in his life, his luck would change.
Last to arrive was the new farmer from Westerly Farm. They’d finally arrived after a tough day in the desert, excavating and fighting creatures in the Skull Caverns.
“You got my message then?” Harvey muttered conspiratorially over his glass of red wine.
The farmer nodded, just as secretively. They pulled out a small package from their pocket.
“I hope it helps.” They said kindly.
“Even if it doesn’t actually *do* anything, it might help to change his mind set. Thank you for organising this. It’s worth a try. You give it to him, you’re the gift giver in town, not me.” Harvey turned back to the bar and the farmer sidled up beside Gus at the bar. Harvey watched as the farmer, blushing a little, handed Gus the parcel.
Inside was a lucky rabbits foot. An item believed to bring luck to the carrier and something that Harvey hoped would make Gus think differently about his fortunes.
“A gift? You’re giving this to me? I- I’m speechless!” Gus was genuinely touched. He pulled the farmer into an enormous bear hug.
He slipped the rabbit’s foot into his pocket, where it would stay for many years.
And the prize giveaway?
The fridge went to a lucky family in Grampleton, but by that time everyone in Pelican Town had learned of Gus’s misfortunes and had a whip-round to help Gus buy a new fridge.
After all, he was always there for the town. Always there to lend a sympathetic ear or provide food and comfort to those who needed it. It was only right that sometimes the town was there for him.
As Lewis handed over the envelope stuffed with donated cash, Gus felt for the rabbit’s foot in his pocket.
Maybe his luck was changing after all?
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rachelbethhines · 3 years
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Vintage Shows to Watch While You Wait for the Next Episode of WandaVision - The 80s
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OK so we are back to the sitcom timeline shenanigans so lets jump into the 80s.  
1. The Greatest American Hero (1981 - 1983) 
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A more comedic spoof on the superhero genre, even more so than the pervious Batman series. A regular joe finds an alien suit that gives him superpowers and antics ensue. 
2. Family Ties (1982 - 1989) 
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One of the most successful family sitcoms of the 80s, Family Ties is mostly remembered for launching the career of Michael J Fox. While his character of the suave, yet nerdy Alex P. Kenton does steal the show, the series smartly plays him as part of an assemble and not the singular star.  Allowing him to bounce off his fellow cast members and provide levity or tear jerking moments when needed. Often at the same time. 
Which is what proved to make the show popular as it merged serious topics and drama within the sitcom format. This cultural turning point in sitcoms is evident in Wandavision’s episode five as things become far more serious. It’s also evident in its opening titles which pays homage to the series. 
3. Knight Rider (1982 - 1986)
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If you prefer a more serious 80s super hero show then there is Knight Rider. Now the main human character is considered the ‘star’ of the show but the real hero is the robotic talking car as his team mate. Voiced by Mr. Feeny himself William Daniels. 
4. The A-Team (1983 - 1987) 
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The last of the spy shows for awhile, and arguably not even a spy show, but it follows the format of action spy shows of the pervious 70s. A team of ex-military special forces go on the run when framed for crimes they didn’t commit and become a bunch of mercenaries with morals. Come for the explosions but stay for the Mr. T. 
5.The Cosby Show (1984 - 1992) 
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While some may wish to forget this show given the later revealed scandals involving it’s star and creator, there is no denying the impact the series had during it’s time on air. It helped to further break the glass ceiling and normalize black led family sitcoms on air. 
6.Growing Pains (1985 - 1992)
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Perhaps Family Ties only real competitor during the 80s outside of The Cosby Show. The main draw of the series was that it had not one but three cute teenaged boys to compete with Michael J Fox. Which is hard cause it’s Michael J Fox, but still its something that a pre-teen straight girl or gay boy would nevertheless find appealing. Especially with pre-Titanic DiCaprio over there.  
7. ALF (1986 - 1990) 
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Like with the pervious decade, there wasn’t many fantasy sitcoms on the air in the 80s. ALF was the exception. Like with My Favorite Martian and Mork and Mindy before it, the show involved hiding an alien away from the rest of the world in US suburbia. The biggest difference was that it was a whole family keeping the secret rather then just one sole confidant. Also as a puppet and not a human actor, Alf could not blend in with the rest of humanity making the task that much harder and that much funnier. 
8. Full House (1987 - 1995)
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My brain automatically catalogues this series as a 90s show because of TGIF on ABC. In fact it’s canonically in the same universe as those shows. But it got it’s start in the late 80s and is referenced a lot in this week’s episode. Not the least of which because Elizabeth Olsen is the sister of Mary Kate and Ashely Olsen, who become famous due to their role on the show. 
As for the series itself, it’s basically Three Men and a Baby the series, but with two extra little girls added into the mix. 
9. The Wonder Years (1988 - 1993)
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First came Happy Days creating nostalgia for the 50s and then came wonder years giving us 60s nostalgia instead. 
10. Quantum Leap (1989 - 1993) 
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For our anthology series this week, lets head back to our sci-fi roots with yet another show that features time travel. Quantum Leap is about a man who leaps into the bodies of people who lived through out history, temporarily possessing them, as he tries to find his way back home to his own body. In order to make another leap he has to ‘fix’ what ever current problem that person is facing. 
Runner Ups
Battlestar Galactica (1978 - 1980) 
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The original Battlestar Galactica was just Bonanza meets Star Wars and it was glorious!
Cheers (1982 - 1993) 
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One of the most successful sitcoms of all time is just about a bunch of middle aged white folks getting drunk in a bar every week. Which is kind of brilliant in it’s simple stupidity. 
The Golden Girls (1985 - 1992)
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Do I even need to explain what the Golden Girls is on trumblr? Well in case you’ve been living under a rock it’s a sitcom about four old women living together, having lots of sex (no, not with each other), and talking about social issues that are still relevant today. 
Married ...with Children (1987 - 1997)
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A spoof of family sitcoms of the time featuring a dysfunctional meanspirited family. There’s no seriousness or sweetness here but there sure are a lot of laughs.  
Roseanne (1988 - 1997)
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If Married ...with Children was a spoof, then Roseanne was a serious satire. Much like the Honeymooners before it, Roseanne defied the idyllic suburb living family and strove to show the real, gritty, and often forgotten working class family. To mixed results. Even ignoring how unpleasant its main star can be in real life, you’ll either love or hate the show, there’s not much in-between. 
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the stars always make me laugh (1/4)
Now complete! Here is chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, and the epilogue.
A year to the day after Ziva departs D.C. to return to Paris and reunite with her family, her newfound contentment is shaken by an unexpected loss. Tony and Tali are right where they belong—safely by her side—but she still finds herself feeling drawn to reflect on the past. She might just be able to use this new grief to bring peace to old wounds, renewing hope along the way for a future with her family... but only if she can find a way to let go of what haunts her.
Written as a combined response to two different challenge prompts; also available for reading on ff and AO3. This is angsty but will ultimately be soft. 
_________________________
"And when your sorrow is comforted (time soothes all sorrows) you will be content that you have known me. You will always be my friend. You will want to laugh with me. And you will sometimes open your window, so, for that pleasure… And your friends will be properly astonished to see you laughing as you look up at the sky! Then you will say to them, 'Yes, the stars always make me laugh!'"
—Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince
_________________________
January 7th, 2021
It's a Thursday morning when Tony gets the call.
He's working from home today, and he's nearing the end of a video conference when his phone buzzes—he looks down to check it and sees his favorite unflattering photo of Tim McGee on the screen. Paris is six hours ahead of Washington, where McGee presumably still is, which makes it… hmm. It's four in the morning there. He's probably not reaching out for a casual chat, then.
Something tells him to take the call.
"Sorry to be rude," Tony says quickly in French, looking back at his computer screen, "but there's an emergency I have to deal with. Let's go ahead and wrap this up for today and we'll talk progress next week, same time as usual—Félix, go ahead and email me that report, if you can. I'll check in when I'm back at the office tomorrow. Have a good morning, all of you."
Then he abruptly ends the conference; he cares very little if he comes across as impolite, because his thoroughly French team has always seen him as a hopelessly crass American anyway.
Tony hits a button on his cell, catching the call just before it would have gone to voicemail. "Why, if it isn't Tim-Tim-Timothy McGee!" he cries, jovial as usual even though he's a little apprehensive about the nature of the unexpected conversation. "What can I do for you?"
"Hey, Tony." McGee sounds tired, which is little wonder given the time difference. "Do you have a moment to talk?"
"Sure," Tony agrees, dropping the slightly mocking enthusiasm from his tone. "What's up?"
"I don't know how to tell you this, so I'm just going to say it, okay?"
"...okay."
"There was an accident last night, and—"
"Who?" Tony can read between the lines—he doesn't have to hear the word "death" to understand that someone he knows has passed away.
"It was Ducky."
_________________________
Tony is on the phone with McGee for another fifteen minutes, getting all the details and committing them to memory as best as he can through his slight haze of shock. Though Ducky had always been the oldest member of their team and clearly couldn't live forever, he had seemed… invincible, somehow. He was an institution, something timeless and never-ending.
Of course, that had been an illusion, but still, it's strange to know that the vibrant old man is now just…
Gone.
The rest of the workday is spent processing all of this new information and making preparations. Tony can't imagine a world in which they wouldn't fly back to the States to attend the funeral, and though he hasn't yet talked to Ziva about it, he feels fairly comfortable arranging emergency bereavement leave from work and informing Tali's school that she'll be out next week.
Near the end of the call, McGee had asked if Tony wanted him to call Ziva, too, or if Tony wanted to tell her himself. Tony's answer was immediate: he knew without needing to stop and consider that telling Ziva in person would be the right thing to do.
It doesn't matter how much he hates having to give bad news.
Tony intends to do it tonight, once his wife is home from work… she has experienced too much loss in her life for him to be anything less than absolutely gentle in telling her about their old friend. There's no need to make it harder than it needs to be; an impersonal phone call across the Atlantic may have been an inevitability for Tony himself, but now that he knows, he wants to be there to hold Ziva's hand when she finds out, too.
He would give anything to spare her from as much pain as possible, and while he can't do much, he can do this.
Fortunately, the timing of McGee's call is decent—Tali has choir practice after school today, effectively speeding up the rest of the evening's schedule. By the time Ziva gets home, it'll nearly be dinner time, and bedtime will follow shortly after.
Tony doesn't want to delay giving Ziva the news, but he thinks it best to wait until Tali is safely tucked away. That way, they don't have to worry about putting on happy faces to keep from scaring her.
_________________________
As soon as Ziva walks in the door, she can tell that something is wrong. Tony looks tired or sad, or maybe both. He kisses her in greeting as usual, though, and when she gives him a questioning look, he answers with an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Later, she understands that to mean.
Ziva is concerned, but she trusts him.
Still, Tony seems eager to rush through Tali's evening routine, telling Ziva her unsettled feeling isn't merely a product of her typical anxiety… she's right, and something has happened or is happening still.
If she was Gibbs, she'd claim a gut feeling.
"Tony, is everything alright?" Ziva asks in a low, tense voice once Tali's bedroom door is shut for the night.
Tony shakes his head. "Let's go sit," he answers softly.
He leads her to the couch and she sits next to him automatically, her heart starting to race in a horribly familiar way. "Please just tell me, whatever it is," she murmurs anxiously.
Tony takes her hand. "Alright." His voice is gentle. "Just don't forget to breathe, Ziva, okay? I got a call from McGee today, and he had some bad news. Ducky was in an accident last night… he passed away this morning."
Ziva's pulse is thudding in her ears, and she focuses on the grounding anchor of Tony's hand on hers as she tries to internalize what he just told her. "An accident?" she echoes, sounding distant even to herself.
"Yeah…" Tony shakes his head and unexpectedly gives a quiet, incredulous laugh. The sound pulls Ziva out of her head a little, and she makes a conscious effort to squeeze his hand back as she waits for details.
He gives her a warm smile, recognizing the gesture.
"Honestly, it was the 'Duckiest' way that he could have died, I think," Tony explains. "He had apparently been out in Newfoundland exploring some continental fault thing, and on the way back, his plane hit some bad weather and ended up crashing. Palmer says it was very quick—Ducky never would have felt a thing."
Ziva nods, slightly faint but quickly getting over her shock. With any luck, she'll avoid a full-blown anxiety attack; the frequency of the attacks has decreased since she reunited with her family a year ago, but they'll always be a threat that she has to be prepared for.
Tony seems to understand that she's not quite ready to talk yet, so he keeps going. "There are worse ways to go, for sure, and I think Ducky would have wanted to spend his last minutes just as he did: coming from from an adventure in a tiny two-seater Bonanza. You know what I mean?"
"Yes… yes, I am sure you are right," she agrees, her voice steadier.
"I'm really glad that we got to see him recently, too. We had a good time, didn't we?"
"We did." A few months back, Ducky'd had a daylong layover in Paris on a trip to a remote area of Siberia, and they'd spent a very fun day showing him around the city. Their daughter had warmed to him quickly, which was hardly surprising.
"Hopefully Tali was old enough that she'll remember it, I think."
"Yes."
Tony pauses, and with his free hand, he reaches up to briefly caress his wife's cheek. "Are you alright?" he questions, concerned. "You're not saying much. I don't want you to pass out on me."
"I am—" Ziva stops in the middle of her sentence and takes two deep breaths. She had nearly said 'fine,’ but she's not, is she?
Ziva likes to think that she can be open and honest with Tony these days, as much as a lifetime of trials has given her the impulse to keep things to herself. The fact that Tony waits patiently for her to finish rather than interrupting tells her that she's right—she shouldn't shut him out.
Finally coming to a decision, she shakes her head. "No."
Tony nods. "I thought that might be the case."
"Are you?"
"Alright?"
"Yes."
"No. No, I'm really not. But I will be."
Tony's words suddenly pull a memory to the forefront of Ziva's mind, and she tilts her head for a moment, considering something.
Tony waits, a slight frown furrowing his brow.
"Come," Ziva decides finally. "There is something that I want to show you."
_________________________
A few minutes later, a bemused Tony watches from the doorway as Ziva digs determinedly through a box in the back of their bedroom closet. He knows what's in that box, and he knows that several identical boxes stacked neatly in the corner contain more of the same: Ziva's old journals from NCIS, dozens of them thoughtfully shipped to Paris by Ellie Bishop.
"Are you looking for one in particular?"
"Yes," Ziva answers, but she doesn't explain any further. After a few more seconds, she makes a noise of triumph and rises with one of the journals in hand.
"Found it?"
"I did."
She leads him back to the bedroom and sits on the bed, inviting him to sit next to her; Tony is relieved to see that while she definitely looks pained and tired, there are no obvious signs of an impending anxiety attack.
Once they're settled, Ziva gently—almost lovingly—pats the cover of the thin book. "This is one of my journals from late 2009 until early 2010."
"That's—"
"Shortly after I was rescued from the desert, yes."
Tony nods; it's not his favorite time to think about, and he knows it can't be for Ziva, either—so why did she pull this notebook in particular from the dozens of identical ones chronicling her experiences?
"Ducky was… helpful to me, in the aftermath of my rescue."
"He was?" Tony interjects in surprise. "You've never talked about that before."
"It is not a subject that I deeply enjoy discussing, something I am sure you can understand."
"Sure."
"Well, because I believe that sharing this memory will honor Ducky, I would like to tell you more about what he did for me."
"Are you sure?"
Ziva nods, and she keeps the journal clutched lovingly in one hand as she reaches over to lay a hand on Tony's thigh. "It has been a long time, and I think I am ready." She offers a smile—it's small and watery, but it's very sincere, and something about it makes Tony's own eyes start to sting.
He's been too busy to cry today, but he knows it's coming sooner or later. Ducky had been family for a very long time, and with this on top of that loss...
"Okay," he agrees roughly, clearing his throat. "Take it away. I'm all ears."
Ziva squeezes his thigh and then pulls her hand away, glancing down at the journal; this one will always be one she cares for above its brethren, because its painful content reminds her of how much she has overcome.
After a pause, Ziva opens it carefully.
Then, her voice surprisingly steady, she starts to read.
_________________________
January 7th, 2010
There is a reason that I have not penned an entry in quite some time; I have walked a difficult road these past months. Today, however, I was offered a comfort that I had not previously possessed the courage to ask for. If I have any hope of sorting through my own thoughts on the matter, though, I need to reconsider earlier events.
Before returning to Mossad more than half a year ago, I was faced with a dilemma that I had successfully avoided in my career before that point—that is, the dilemma of who to trust and who to side with when personal and professional obligations become hopelessly conflicted. I have already written at length about the choices I and the others made in the midst of that conflict.
Much has happened since then, but recent forced introspection has shown me an important connection between the difficulties of Michael's death and the horrors I endured after: a connection between who I was then and who I am now. That night, it only took a few minutes to change the course of my life: in that time, Tony and Michael fought, and Michael was killed. Every single one of us has had to deal with the consequences of those events ever since.
At the time, I let my anger and my grief consume me, destroying all vestiges of rationality in my thoughts and decisions. I followed that pain to the Horn of Africa, hurting and reckless and prepared for death.
Of course, I did not die, and that has brought consequences of its own… consequences that I am only now beginning to come to terms with.
In the wake of Michael's death and doubly so in the wake of my experiences in the desert camp, I found myself vulnerable. For the first time in my life, I'd been forced to acknowledge my heart and acknowledge its fragility. It could be bruised. It could humiliate me. These were things that frightened me, because I knew from recent experience that they could—and likely would—be used against me. My fear led me to withdraw, to hide again; acknowledging my own weakness demanded far less bravery than I would have needed to share that vulnerability with my friends.
I defaulted to an old defense mechanism. I leaned on ability borne of long experience to simply feign contentment. I passed my psychological evaluations, I sent my resignation to Abba, and against all odds, I was instated as a probationary special agent at NCIS. After a time, my colleagues stopped watching me when they thought I could not see, waiting for me to fall apart. I had convinced them that I was alright; perhaps I even convinced myself some of the time, too. Maybe I was not yet as 'fine' as I seemed to be, but I was sure that in time, I would reach a point where my conscience felt as carefree as my forced smile looked to those who loved me.
Darkness, however, is difficult to chase away with one single flickering candle, lit only by the flame of my own exhausted determination. My candle burned low, worn down over time, and I found myself in need of help. I alone could not summon the light that had long since fled my tired soul.
Though I did not know to whom I should turn, fate helped a friend to find me. It was—of all people—Ducky. In many ways, he is something of a saba* to me, the kind that I wished for as a child. Even so, I would not have thought to seek him out as a confidant. I see now how remiss I was in taking him for granted as I have sometimes done. It turns out that he was just who I needed.
He found me this evening in the midst of… I do not know how to define what I was feeling. I can only say that I was lost in a moment of weakness. At the time, being seen that way was humiliating, but now, several hours later, it feels serendipitous.
Ducky and I spoke quite candidly then… I will not record the details of the conversation here, because I feel in no danger of forgetting what was said. I am confident, however, that today marks something of a new beginning for me. There is still so much to sort through and process, but the shadows already feel less dim.
Today, I invited a friend to see my darkness, and despite what he saw, he did not pity me; he only held my hand and lit another candle.
_________________________
*saba = "grandfather" in Hebrew
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profit-force · 3 years
Text
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sugdenlovesdingle · 4 years
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The Hospital - Robert Sugden’s birthday bonanza day 7 (AO3)
(It’s done!! I can’t believe I did it - excuse me while I go take a week long nap)
Robert’s birthday with his family doesn’t go according to plan - because when do things ever
---
As far as birthdays went, Robert’s 34th was definitely one of the best ones ever. At least it had started out that way.
Aaron had woken him up doing downright sinful things to him with his mouth, and then a repeat performance in the shower.
By the time they made it downstairs, there was a lavish breakfast on the table as well as some cards and presents.
“Victoria was just in here, she dropped that off.” Cain announced, nodding at a large chocolate cake in the middle of the table. “She said she’d stop by later for your birthday dinner or something.”
“Dinner?” Robert looked at Aaron who smiled.
“Yep. We thought it would be nice to have a family meal for your birthday. Vic and I are cooking and you get to sit back and enjoy.” he pressed a kiss to Robert’s lips. “Happy birthday.”
“I didn’t know it was your birthday.” Cain commented while trying to get Isaac to eat his breakfast instead of grabbing the cake.
“We told you. More than once. We even told you last night when we invited you to tonight’s dinner.” Liv snapped from her spot on the sofa. Seb was in her lap and gave her a shocked look. “It’s ok monkey, uncle Cain is just being an idiot.”
Robert tried to stop himself from laughing when he saw the look on Cain’s face. He picked Seb up from Liv’s lap so he’d have a buffer if Cain wanted to wipe the smile off his face.
“I have a business to run and 2 kids to raise, it slipped my mind.” he told Liv, before turning to Robert. “Well... happy birthday then I suppose.”
“Thanks... are you joining us for dinner later then?”
“Uh... maybe. I’ll see how busy things get today. I have to go now and take Isaac to Moira’s. Amy is taking Kyle to school right now.”
“Alright. Have a good day.” Robert said and made Seb wave goodbye to Cain and Isaac as they left the mill.
As soon as the door closed Robert and Aaron looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“I’ve never seen Cain that confused.” Aaron commented.
“Yeah I don’t think anyone has ever spoken to Cain Dingle like that and lived to tell the tale.” Robert said laughingly as he put Seb in his high chair and sat down too.
“Yeah, well, he was doing my head in...” Liv said shuffling over the table. “And happy birthday, Rob.”
“Thanks. Are you feeling alright? You look a little pale.”
“I’m fine. Just a little tired. Didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Just go back to bed for a while then.” Aaron suggested. “We’re having a lazy day anyway.”
“We are?” Robert asked.
“Yep.” Aaron said, popping the p and kissing Robert’s cheek as he walked past him to sit down at the table as well. “Jimmy has cleared both your schedules for the rest of the week so you can have some family time. It’s his birthday present to you.”
“Really? Did you hear that Seb? Uncle Jimmy has given us the day off. Maybe we can go for a walk later and have a game of football.” Robert said, pulling funny faces at Seb to make him laugh.
“That’s a good idea isn’t it Seb? We’ll have to let daddy win though, because it’s his birthday.” Aaron said with a grin.
Robert mock gasped at Seb.
“Oh no, daddy doesn’t realise I can beat him fair and square. And that I know his weak spots.” 
Seb looked back and forth between his parents, not entirely sure what was going on, but happy enough being the centre of attention.
“Do we have any aspirin?” Liv interrupted, rubbing her temple.
“I think so. Check the drawer.” Aaron told her. “Are you alright? Have you taken your meds today?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” she mumbled. “Just tired.”
“Why don’t you come with us on a walk around the fields? A bit of fresh air might do you good. Get rid of that headache.” Robert said, sharing a look of concern with Aaron.
“Yeah... maybe...”
She got up and rummaged around the drawer, muttering under her breath until she suddenly stopped and went rigid.
“Did you find it?” Aaron asked. “Liv?”
The girl didn’t reply but dropped to the floor and started shaking.
“Shit she’s having another seizure!” Aaron flew up from his chair and rushed over to her. “Call an ambulance!” he yelled at Robert who had dropped to his knees beside her, cradling her head in his lap to stop her from banging her head on the kitchen floor.
“My phone is charging upstairs!”
“Shit, shit, shit.” Aaron swore and looked around for his own phone before remembering he’d plugged it into the charger by the TV. He rushed over and yanked the plug out of the socket and dialled 999. “I need an ambulance, my sister is having a seizure. Mill Cottage, Emmerdale.”
By the time the paramedics arrived Liv had stopped shaking but she was still unconscious.
“You go with her.” Robert told Aaron as Liv was being strapped to a stretcher and wheeled outside to the ambulance.
“Are you sure?” Aaron asked, hesitating between wanting to go with his sister and stay with his husband on his birthday.
“Yes. Go. I’ll drop Seb off at Diane’s and meet you there as soon as I can.”
“Pack some clothes for her. She’s still in her pyjamas. She’ll want clean clothes.”
“I will.” Robert promised. “Now go. I’ll be right behind you.” he pecked Aaron’s lips and shoved him out the door.
A little over an hour later Robert rushed into A&E looking for someone who could tell him where to find Aaron or Liv.
He found Aaron pacing a waiting area and making the rest of the patients’ relatives nervous.
“Oh thank god you’re here.” he whispered as he let Robert wrap his arms around him.
“How is she? Do you know anything yet?”
“She woke up in the ambulance for a minute but she was all confused and started to panic so they knocked her out.” Aaron told him. “They told me to wait here when we got here and someone would come find me to update me on her condition. But that was ages ago and I haven’t heard anything yet.” he directed the last part at a nurse behind the desk a few meters away from him.
“Do you want me to see if I can get some info?” Robert offered but Aaron shook his head.
“I just... want you to hold me for a bit.”
Robert squeezed him a little tighter and dropped a kiss in his hair.
“I can do that.”
They sat down in the waiting area and after what seemed like hours a doctor came looking for Olivia Flaherty’s family.
She gave them an update on Liv’s condition and took them to her room.
“She’ll be asleep for a while but you can sit with her as long as you like. We’ll have to run some more tests so she’ll have to at least stay overnight... but she’s stable now.”
“I just don’t understand how this could happen.” Aaron said quietly after they’d settled in at Liv’s bedside and the doctor had left them to it. “She’s on her meds and she hasn’t had a seizure in ages.” he stroked her hair out of her face.
“I know. I guess that’s what the tests are for... maybe they’ll have to adjust her meds...” Robert suggested and squeezed Liv’s ankle. “But you heard the doctor. She’s stable now.”
"Yeah...” Aaron agreed, eyes firmly fixed on the monitor next to Liv’s bed.
As time passed Robert could tell Aaron was getting more and more anxious.
“I’m getting a bit hungry, do you mind getting me a sandwich or something from downstairs? Maybe a coffee too.”
Aaron looked at him like he’d gone mad.
“I can’t leave her.”
“I’ll be here. I have my phone. I’ll call you the second something changes.” Robert promised and gave Aaron his wallet. “Please? It is still my birthday. You have to be nice to me.”
That got a small hint of a smile from Aaron.
“Fine. I suppose I could do with something to eat too.”
“Maybe check in on Seb too? Matty took him to the farm.”
Aaron nodded and got up.
“I won’t be long.”
“We’ll be here.” Robert said and stretched and sat back in his chair a little as soon as Aaron had left the room. He wanted to be strong for both of them but he’d been just as scared and stressed as Aaron and it was starting to catch up to him.
A few minutes later Liv began to stir and Robert wondered if he should get a doctor.
“Hey you. How are you feeling?” He asked when she opened her eyes and focused on him. She rubbed her eyes and tried to sit up, making Robert rush over to help her.
“Ok I guess... Tired... A little sore. Did I fall?”
“Yeah. At home in the kitchen. Do you remember any of it?”
“A little... I think. I’ve just been so tired lately...” She told him and looked around the room. “Where’s Aaron?”
“He was driving me nuts so I sent him on a coffee run and to check on Seb..”
“Seb!” Liv’s eyes went wide. “I didn’t scare him did I? He was right there.”
“Don’t worry, he’s fine.” Robert assured her. “He’s used to the drama in this family by now.” he joked.
“Still...”
“I think the only thing that bothered him was that he couldn’t ride in the ambulance with you when they turned the sirens on. But then Matty offered to take him up to the farm on his quad and that was interesting enough too apparently.”
“I’m sorry for ruining your birthday, Rob...” Liv trailed off, focusing on a loose thread on the blanket. “I had a present for you and everything. I wanted to give it to you over dinner.”
“You can give it to me when you get home. All I care about now is that you’re ok.” Robert said, sitting down on the bed next to her and pulling her into a hug. “You didn’t ruin anything. And I’ll have another birthday next year anyway, it’s no big deal.”
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piratewithvigor · 4 years
Text
Love Break My Heart: Chapter 2
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Chapter 1
Summary: A half-life relationship is disintegrating at the seams. Neither of them is good for the other, but after 14 years together, they don’t know how to be with each other anymore.
Word Count: 2059
A/N: A prize story written for @slashscowboyboots​ that I keep putting off working on until I have massive fruitopia-fueled writing bonanzas when I’m supposed to be going to sleep because I work tomorrow. Enjoy!
I can remember back to the first days we spent in the studios. Cutting demos, the silence punctuated by growling stomachs. We were hungry literally and figuratively. Daily scrapings of cash were what we ate from and some days, sleep was all we could afford for dinner. Working on the first album was much of the same, but not quite as desperate. We had a bit of an advance. Something we could eat off of, but nothing that was keeping us in the lap of luxury. We still all shared a shitty house with a carpet full of burn holes and not a single piece of furniture that didn’t boast an array of stains, dents or scrapes. But we weren’t starving for anything except success.
It’s different now. You didn’t have to look beyond the people occupying the studio to know the energy felt different. Steven was gone, to begin with. He’d struggled along with the rest of us, and now he was gone because he found something that meant more to him than we did. Success got to his mind and gave him the delusions of invincibility I had seen so many of my heroes succumb to. My mind drifted to him sometimes when nothing else was occupying it. Call it a happy place, if you will. It’s simply a corner of my mind I can go to when the reality around me doesn’t live up to my expectations of it.
The other difference is everyone’s attitudes about the albums-in-process. Our collective passions were what created the first, but this? The passion here lay in something besides music. Slash is doped up, hiding behind his curtain as if he thinks we can’t tell. He used to share this passion with Steven and me, but times are different now. Duff’s baby is in the bottle. How his liver hasn’t exploded yet is beyond me. His passion lies somewhere deep within his endless bottles, in drinking them down like he’s trying to find it. Axl? His passion lies in control, in perfection. In a way, it always has, but it’s begun to overpower him and, in turn, the rest of us. His demand for perfection drives everyone to their respective new passions as well. As for myself, I’m no saint. I’ve drank my fair share and I took part in every drug I could get my hands on. But they weren’t my passions. The struggles I went through to kick all of them were in the honour of the one thing who held control over me: the bitchy redhead who’s barking orders at everyone in the studio.
I’m trying to comply with what he’s saying and follow directives. Axl’s in no mood to hear anyone’s ideas but his own. Neither Duff nor Slash seem eager to offer any. Matt and Dizzy look more inclined to lick peanut butter off his ass than to offer constructive criticism. It’s no one’s fault the day is going this way; simply the cycle that’s been constructed during these albums. A single mistake in the morning leads to an outburst, which leads to stress, more mistakes, more anger and fear which leads to shit being taken secretly to cope, then playing gets sloppier, and eventually, something will break. It’s as certain as any law of motion.
I’m not even sure who messed up when Axl pauses us again. I started tuning him out after we did a perfect run-through and he still found problems. As much as I love him, sometimes a tune-out is the only way to cope. It’s the only way I can keep loving him. He’s in the control room, arguing with our producer. I can’t hear his exact words through the soundproofed glass, but I can see his lips moving and his body language isn’t screaming “I’m in a fantastic mood; please approach.”
It takes five or so minutes for our producer to eventually lean into his mic to be heard in the recording booth.
“Iz, Axl thinks you might be flat.”
I purse my lips and make a show of checking my tuning quickly. I’m not flat. Axl knows I know I’m not flat. He’s lashing out because something isn’t living up to his grand vision and he isn’t sure what it is. I’d have heard if someone was flat. He would have too, without having gone through an entire shouting match with the producer to wreck his voice.
Satisfied with my efforts, Axl returns to the booth and we start another take. They’re numbered, for some reason, but we’ve done so many, I don’t know why anyone would bother to keep track. It’s the same for every song. Every song on these twin albums that we thought would be a great idea. No one had anticipated just how much of a pain they would grow to be. A single album takes months. We’ve been at both of them for over a year. Almost a year and a half, by my count. A year and half of my time spent being yelled at by a man who just wishes he could yell at the universe, but instead chooses to whittle it down to who he used to consider his universe.
I’m playing again, but I don’t remember beginning. Everyone is playing, but no one looks like they’re actually here. Mentally, anyway. We’re all in our respective happy places. Axl stops us again and the room heaves a collective mental sigh. The take was as perfect as he’s going to get. For tonight, anyway. Time passes in a different way in the studio. The lack of windows and clocks ensure it. Once the exhaustion sets in, minutes seem like hours, seem like seconds. I know I ate breakfast with Axl this morning, but nothing since. I can easily bet that it’s beyond lunch time.
Once Axl’s back is turned in the control room, I pull my neck strap over my head and place the guitar on one of the stands in the corner, unplugging it in the process. The minute details of imperfection have Axl swamped sufficiently that he doesn’t notice when I leave the recording booth. Nor does he notice that I’ve left the studio.
It’s late evening when I walk outside. Full moon on the rise and everything. For the first time today, my movements aren’t planned. Sure, I’ll eventually have to return to the studio and face Axl’s wrath, but for a few moments, I’m free. It’s yet crowded enough that Axl would be a fool to walk in the streets. Moments like these are when I respect Kiss and everyone who had the same idea as them: when you become famous, your face is no longer your own. It belongs to the public to use as they please. So they created new faces to give to the public and keep the ones they were born with for themselves. Staying out of the spotlight gives me a variation of the same luxury. A fan could identify me if they tried, but a casual viewer never could like how they would be able to with Axl. Being the frontman, everyone knows his face. He’d get swamped the instant he set foot outside the studio. I’m walking with my hands shoved into my jean pockets to keep them a little warmer. It might be Californian May, but it’s still nightfall and growing colder. Not enough that I’m wishing I had something warmer on, but enough that it’s starting to grow unpleasant. 
The first time I remember my intentions for leaving the studio is when I reach a cheap diner a few blocks away. The kind that looks like it employs people who spit in your food if you order anything more complicated than a burger and a soda. In short, the perfect place for a hiding musician.
The diner is empty save for a couple of skeevy patrons dotting the bar stools and other booths. A pretty sorry dinner rush, but the food looks edible enough to spend money on. Playing safely gets me a coke and a cheeseburger served in a plastic basket, somehow both looking like the most beautiful things I’d seen all day. Grease is seeping through the parchment paper lining the basket and the coke is a little flat, but it’s quiet. No strings cutting into my fingers while I played the same two minutes of a song over and over, no screaming, no more little bubble of resentment that was building up deep within me. Just soft conversations between patrons. For the first time in almost a year and a half, it’s quiet enough that I can let myself think.
A little scrap of paper’s been metaphorically burning a hole in my pocket since we began writing for the album, but I never knew what to add to it. My original idea was to write a love song for Axl, but the frustration of having nothing to say only got me more depressed. I hadn’t even tried to put anything down since I got clean.
I uncap a pen and begin to write. Nothing in particular, just a few words that could maybe be something some day. I eventually finish the cheeseburger and start dedicating my brain power to scribbling while I sip on my flat coke. The chorus is starting to come together and the verses are well on their way when someone slides into my booth across from me. I know without looking up. A pair of aviators join my field of vision of the table, but I’m not giving Axl the satisfaction of acknowledging him yet. It’s what he wants; to have the proof that I know I wronged him. So I keep at the task at hand. If he’s able to read my handwriting upside-down, he’s not saying so. Just sitting as uncaring as I am. As soon as I leave the diner, shit is going to fly. If I’m lucky, my nose will stay intact, but I’ve never been known to be that lucky before. All I do know is that the longer I sit here, the worse I’m going to have it. It’s the little quirks like that that you pick up on after 14 years with someone.
The final verse closes up under my hand as I awkwardly slurp up the last few drops of coke hidden under semi-melted ice cubes. I fold up the scrap of paper and put it back into my pocket as I get up, leaving most of my spare change on the table as a tip. I still haven’t looked Axl in the eye, but I can tell he’s been staring me down ever since he entered. When I push open the door to exit, he follows, no more than an arm’s reach away.
The first time he touches me is when we pass an alley and he grabs my by the collar to pull me in. The jolt is strong enough to startle me, but not strong enough that it hurts. He shoves me so my back is against the grimey alley wall before socking me across the jaw.
“You… Izzy, you…” He looks like he wants to saw something else, but he punches me again instead.
“…you backstabbing son of a bitch!” He figures out what he wants to saw as he swings again, but I’m ready for him this time. Ready enough that I block his arm with mine.
“Cool it, Fireball.”
“Cool it?” He chuckles like he’s in a strange sort of delirium. “You fucking throw me under the bus to deal with those fucking dipshits and you tell me to cool it?”
“I didn’t throw you under any bus you weren’t already swan-diving towards,” I counter, keeping a firm grasp on his wrist. I’ve both thrown and received my share of punches, but it doesn’t mean I’m fixing to get any more. Especially from Axl.
“You’re as bad as they are! Are you all fucking trying to mess up and delay the albums?” He’s struggling against my grasp enough that I let go. Right now, he’s not planning on hitting me anymore. Just yell a little bit and maybe pace some before the steam will be all out. We’ll kiss and we’ll go home together and we’ll call it love when deep down, we know it’s anything but.
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nikinaki23-blog1 · 4 years
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7 golden tips from the real estate business
If there is a sector of solid tradition to invest, it is undoubtedly real estate. Those who are dedicated to developing houses, corporate offices, warehouses, shopping centers and mixed developments in Mexico know that it is a land of opportunities in which, if things are done correctly and there are the right people, everything can go very good.
In Mexico City alone, 37,000 marriages take place annually, which represents 58% of the demand for new homes.
Another feature of this business is that it is not exclusive, although there are great players it is very easy to participate, since there are also hundreds, but thousands of small ones involved.
“It is a pulverized business, the barriers are few. If you do it with professionalism, market knowledge and deliver a good product, you have a chance that it will go well. And I say pulverized because there are few barriers to entry, there are no great players. For example, the largest developer in the DF has no more than 5% of the market. If you have a five-apartment building, it is competition as well as one of 500. It is easy to enter the sector, ”adds Gabriel Casillas, director of Marhnos Habitat.
Experts say
To explain what it means to invest in this sector and how to do it, we choose some of the builders and developers with greater probity and experience in the country. Companies with several decades or young people, who have managed to change the face of the areas where they work.
STUDY IN FUND TO THE CUSTOMER
Grupo Marhnos has more than 60 years of experience in Mexico and is a leading company in the sector. He has ventured into the construction of homes, infrastructure, shopping centers, hotels, hospitals and offices.
Today one of their main bets is the issue of mid-level housing, in which they are experts. Before making a decision, Marhnos studies location, segment they want to reach, facilities around the area and previous experiences in it .
“We are studious of our clients. Our success is that we go into the way of life of our main client : the Mexican middle class. We have invested time and resources in surveys, focus groups and studies to see what adds value to your way of life. We give them a context, not just a house. We consider everything: communications, interior spaces, amenities, services in the area, among others, ”says Casillas.
Among Marhnos' works, the corporate buildings of Bimbo and Bancomer stand out; and various real estate developments in the metropolitan area of ​​the Valley of Mexico.
PREVENT TRENDS
A young company, which in a few years has built a name in commercial, tourism, housing and services developments is Arquitectoma, whose partners, José Portilla and Francisco Martín del Campo are architects of origin who have incorporated the vision in the march business and have been launched to make projects of great proportions.
Arquitectoma partners do not doubt what their best practice is: “search and deliver products above the expectations of our customers. Sacrifice even utility. Always give a good return to investors. ”
One of the most emblematic projects of Arquitectoma is the Garden Santa Fe shopping center, in the west of Mexico City, but they are also responsible for some vertical housing developments such as the Taua Towers, Rubén Darío 123 and Santa Fe 443, a building mixed use.
“More than following trends, we anticipate. For example, before the small departments were not used. We started to do them because we saw that people cared about the location, but for the price it did not access and the way to do it was to build smaller but better distributed spaces. In Capital smart city we made the first apartments with generous terrace and private pool. We also capture the need to make spaces for people who live alone, who are divorced or leave their home early. Now those markets have expanded a lot, ”explains José Portilla.
TWO SECRETS TO CHOOSE A PROJECT
In general, two essential aspects to decide to invest or develop a project are to identify needs and problems and then to conceive a project that provides a solution and find a good land, at an affordable price and in a well located area.
“We choose based on spatial and social needs. Once we define what is needed, we mold it mentally thinking about space, volume, size and area. With that diagnosis we are going to look for the raw material, which is the terrain. In Mexico City, there is less and less land and it is more expensive. We discard a lot of land for the prices, ”explains Martín del Campo, from Arquitectoma.
Another relevant issue is to consider what is the vocation of the land and do market research. In cases where it is large land, it is very good to do mixed developments, in which end consumers are given much more than just housing.
HOW TO ASSESS PROFITABILITY
To invest it is vital to evaluate the profitability. The value at which it can be sold is very predictable because of the prices in the market, since the value of the materials and labor is calculable and, in general, the investor can know how much the construction will cost. The only variable is the terrain.
“In terms of business, what we always try to achieve is that the partners who put the capital give them an annual return that suits them instead of having it in the bank. From 12 to 15% per year, on average, ”explains José Portilla.
As for those who buy real estate, it is generally also a good business. As the Arquitectoma team says: hardly the value will go down, it usually goes up. “You can ask people with many resources and you will see how many times they have bought debt papers or shares that they have disappointed. They will tell you five, 10 times.
Instead, ask someone who has bought a good and does not depreciate, nobody loses. Unless, of course, they mess with a thief, ”says Martín del Campo.
THE RED FOCUSES
In order not to go through what others have already gone through, these are the red spots that the leaders of the sector see:
·         Procedures and management in general. It is important to do everything in a transparent, legal way and take care of the relationship with the authorities. Bureaucracy and corruption can be an ordeal in this sector.
·         The relationship with the neighbors of the place where you are looking to develop a project is fundamental. You have to maintain a close relationship with the colony, the neighborhood and the community. “Sometimes the norm allows it, but there are communities very reluctant to carry it out and it becomes a huge problem. You better not get in, ”comments Martín del Campo.
·         A subjective issue is timing, the opportunity to make a development or not. It is necessary to always consider economic factors and market circumstances before carrying out a new project. “There are projects that we have already canceled with the purchased land. We worked some beach projects when there was bonanza worldwide, everything promised to go well, but the crisis came and we decided not to embark on a high-risk adventure. Sometimes the most important decisions are not to do something, ”says Portilla.
7 gold tips
Gabriel Casillas, Marhnos Group:
1. Take advantage that Mexico City is in an unbeatable position in real estate terms. Globally, the price of the square meter is below what it will cost in some years. Good years are coming to invest.
2. Serve the neighbors. Not turning to see the neighbors can compromise a project. The investment must be committed to the boundaries and the area of ​​influence of development, to benefit nearby families.
Francisco Martín del Campo, Architect:
3. Check the veracity of the ownership and use of the land in which you plan to invest. There are those who invest with the idea of ​​getting good. They are buyers dressed as investors. If that is the case, it is important that the product in which you invest is the one you want to live.
Fernando Abusaid, former national president of Canadevi:
4. Invest in truly sustainable projects that have good connectivity, good services, schools, etc.
José Portilla, Architect:
5. Investigate well with whom to invest. Moral quality, the work record. As an investor it is important to get involved in the project.
 Óscar Peralta, GMI Group:
6. Be sure to be able to fulfill the commitments that are contracted  with University town and have the ability to withstand the slow payments.
7. Do a thorough market research, so as not to be mistaken in what kind of services and products to offer that are competitive.
"The opinions expressed in the articles and comments are the responsibility of their authors." "Cubic Meters respects the plurality of ideas and comments, as long as they are not discriminatory or harmful to the identity, race, condition or dignity of people."
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mycryptosuite · 1 year
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alcalavicci · 4 years
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(Disclaimer: if you wrote this and don’t want it up, send me an ask and I’ll take it down)
Snippets of Geordie James’ letters to Claire, May-August 1974
Letter 1:
As you've probably noticed, there aren't enough of us Stockwell fans around. Before my first letter about Dean and Guy was published in the January issue of RBH [Rona Barrett's Hollywood], I felt a bit paranoid in my affection for them. I knew they must have fans somewhere, although maybe few and far-between. Now that I'm corresponding with several other fans of theirs, I can't believe it! I really enjoy exchanging praises about Dean and Guy. They are two subjects I never tire of reading or writing about. I hope you feel the same.
I know that when you wrote your letter, you didn't know how much I adore Dean -- as you've probably guessed by now, I've done as much research as possible on him. The one thing I didn't know about Dean was that he's living with Russ Tamblyn. I had heard from this fellow who wrote a book about former child stars that Dean "lives in Topanga Canyon with a very beautiful roommate." Now Russ Tamblyn is attractive, but I must admit I had something else in mind!
************
Your letter is very interesting and intelligent. This has been the case with all the Dean fans who have written me. If it's true that certain artists attract certain types of fans, I'd say that Dean definitely attracts mature and intelligent people.
Dean fans are generally older than are the fans of others, which prompts me to ask your age, if you don't mind telling me?
About myself -- I'm 27, a Pisces like Dean. In fact, his birthday is the day before mine.
*********
The most up-to-date information I've heard about Dean is that he was in Albuquerque in March of this year, on stage in a comedy called "Relatively Speaking." In an interview from the Albuquerque newspaper, Dean said that he would "prefer to exclude neurotics" in his roles in the future. He complained of being typecast, probably as a result of "Compulsion," his success at playing a poetic, deranged genius, his common character up til now. He said that he would like to do comedy and work with Mel Brooks. Reviews from the play raved that Dean was brilliant in comedy.
How does this news impress you? I ask because I'm wondering if you share my views, which are in complete sympathy with Dean. From that old "Bonanza" segment Dean did, I knew he had comedic sense that was very appealing. If you'll recall, that show opened with Dean playing a drunk, begging for whiskey in the saloon. When taken out of context from the story, that swaying, groping drunkeness showed a great scope for comedy. He is fantastic, able to play it up or down. It is Dean's subtleness, somehow, that makes him so great -- he could never be described as a ham, don't you agree? His acting style is convincing and he makes it look so easy! Just a look, the tiniest gesture, and he says everything. Dean definitely has a charisma, some sort of magic that only a few actors have shared. I often compare Montgomery Clift to Dean, which must be very terrible to do, but I consider Monty to have been the similar type of acting genius Dean is. I'd call it "realism," I guess. When an actor is charged with so much emotion in his work and is able to convey it without over-acting, that's something to praise.
**********
I'm sure I know that look you describe on Dean's face, that disgusted look. When reading this part of your letter, I could see him doing it, so you must have described it well. When I watch the adult Dean acting, I always wait for that subtle, quick scratch. Do you know what I mean? Usually it's his eyebrow that itches him, sometimes his nose. Somehow when I see his scratch, I know everything is all right. I realize I sound a bit like a nut here, but I'm so fond of Dean that I love his little quirks. I think if I ever saw him act when he didn't scratch something, I'd probably think something was wrong. Perhaps I'd better change the subject before I sound like a genuine nut!
*****************
Have you by any chance ever heard from Dean? I ask because no one who's written me has. Personally, I have written Dean half a dozen times at various addresses without any luck. For some time now I have been trying to get in touch with him and ask his permission about starting a fan club for him. All we Dean fans have agreed that we need some means by which we can keep abreast of his career, but the main snag is finding Dean. I'm continuing to try. Right now I have several lines out – if only I can get a bite.
Letter 2:
I agree with you completely in regard to Dean's scope for other characters beyond the neurotic ones. I've read several places about actors and actresses who really suffer prolonged, damaging traumas related to typecasting in neurotic and mercenary roles. Mercedes McCambridge blamed her alcoholism on just such typecasting, as one example. I heard from someone that Bette Davis said that celluloid villains were always the nicest people in Hollywood and now that I consider it, it seems to be so. I think Dean is very together, but all the same it must be very frustrating to see that producers invariably think of him as "the perfect nut" for the part. It is frustrating for any creative person to be confined to one outlet of expression.
"The Happy Years" is one Dean movie I haven't seen, but I'd really love to, especially now after you've described the scene in the classroom. I agree about his flair for comedy, though, in what I have seen of him. What bothers me most about Dean's dissatisfaction is that he just might give up acting, if only temporarily, if producers continue to see him as the perfect nut. This is a secret opinion, never before revealed to another soul, Claire, but have you noticed Dean's lack of enthusiasm for his most recent roles? In particular, that "Police Surgeon" segment, you'll recall, wherein Dean played a prosecuting attorney who was kidnapped in exchange for the mobster he was trying to convict. Dean's fire just wasn't burning very much in that part, unless it was my imagination. Was it? I thought it very refreshing that he played a Good Guy for a change, but something seemed wrong somehow. I don't know if you get "Orson Welles Great Mysteries" there, since we get it here through Canada and it is a British-made series, but Dean was fantastic in that. He had another Good Guy part, as an innocent fellow accused of murdering his girlfriend's husband. What, by the way, do you think of Dean's "ponytail?" I think that I'd love to see his hair let down long -- I'm very curious how he'd look if he "let his hair down." I like long hair on men, anyway, so long as it's not ridiculously long, but in a broader sense Dean's endears me to him more because of its obvious symbolism. Dean is unique, an odd mixture of flashiness and seclusion, a mystery. Someone called him a "male Greta Garbo" and in a way it befits him. I see him as very real, don't you? As a person one could talk to, though I'd probably be terrified to speak to him, I must admit. However, I'd love the chance to be terrified.
"Compulsion," which you mention for its fainting and rape scenes, is one of my favorite Dean films, although I feel like a traitor for saying that, since this movie was the most responsible for his typecasting, it seems. So much was left out of "Compulsion," probably because of the time it was made, but the homosexual relationship, the sado-masochism between Artie and Judd, the helplessness under Judd's superior attitudes. . . so much was trimmed and altered or left out entirely from the book, but Dean put back every word with his eyes, with his gestures, with those melting looks, the never-quite-smiles. For that reason "Compulsion" is one of my favorite films, because never did Dean say so much by saying nothing.
I think my favorite movie from Dean's childhood is "Home Sweet Homicide," so far, but I haven't had the opportunity to see them all. Dean was precious in HSH, don't you think?
Did I tell you last letter about reading how Dean worked as a field laborer in Mexico when he quit acting in his middle teens? I meant to if I didn't. Had you ever read about that?
Letter 3:
Protocol would have me first apologize for the small delay in replying this time and secondly thank you kindly for the adorable pix you copied of Dean for me -- but I know you will forgive me for being rude this time, since I have some fantastic news that just came today. First, I heard from Dean!!! Second, he wrote personally! And thirdly but not leastly, he actually authorized ME to start a FAN CLUB for HIM. Can you believe it? I am so excited that I have scarcely touched the ground all day, as you can imagine. I am absolutely thrilled! He wrote that he has never even felt inclined to endorse a fan club before this, "in all my years," as he phrased it, but recently he has had a change of heart and feels he should "involve" himself in the "give and take" between himself "and those who admire and enjoy my work." He writes a very intelligent letter, needless to say -- and he has told me to go ahead and conduct the club any way I choose and that he will cooperate as much as possible. I repeat, can you believe it? He said I should notify him of receiving this letter and he will write more and contribute information, which of course I did immediately.
***********
As for the fan club we'll be putting together, we will have to start out on a small scale and build through publicity. Of course, you and the other Dean fans who write to me are automatically members, which goes without saying, but we really do need the publicity to reach the masses of Stockwell fans. Have you any suggestions? Any help you can offer would be very much appreciated. I plan to order some printed ads to send here and there and of course I will try Rona -- I have the National Fan Club organization address somewhere -- they print ads, too. Right now I'm so excited that I feel like going door-to-door!
***************
No, I didn't get the Albuquerque interview from Richard. I received it from a very nice woman by the name of Olive White who lives in Albuquerque. She just happened upon my letter in Rona's mag and sent me the available material from the newspaper. We now correspond – she's very nice. Yes, I thought too that it sounded just like Dean to say "a bit of fluff." He has a really unique way of writing and speaking as himself, in my opinion, because he sounds very intelligent and yet very -- "free." If you know what I mean. That's a combination one doesn't find every day.
************
Dean mentioned in his letter that he has just returned from eight weeks location filming in the Phillipine Islands, but he didn't go into detail about it. I asked, of course, and I'll pass that information along to you as soon as he responds again.
I agree with you about that "Police Surgeon" episode Dean guested on. Like you, I feel he just didn't try to get into the part. I'm not sure I understand why an actor would accept a part that he wouldn't really give his best to, expecially when the actor is as gifted as Dean. (Only Dean is as gifted as Dean, come to think of it.) Perhaps it was a question of timing or maybe he was sick or something like that. I know
Dean is a veteran, though, and a trooper, and I'm convinced he could sing and dance with a 104 degree temperature if he wanted to -- I guess, in conclusion, the only thing that makes sense is that Dean didn't want to do the show and yet for some reason or another was obligated to. Perhaps he and the director were at each other's throats two minutes after they were introduced. Any speculations from you? I think I've run out of possibilities.
****************
On the question of Dean's ponytail, all I know is that he apparently had it still in March, during his Albuquerque run. The profile long-shot I received shows it clearly, but the photo was definitely inferior for copying material. I would assume he still wears it, probably lets his hair down at home. I think it's very becoming, don't you?
*****************
About your questions on Dean's marriage [to Millie Perkins], I have no facts, only gossip I've been collecting. I don't know how they met but the implication seems to be that it was through Fox, where both were under contract. They supposedly secretly married on a hiatus together and didn't reveal it til they had to -- they opened a bowling alley together -- how's that for a weird fact? Millie retired from her acting career and refused to fulfill her contract to Fox, which caused her several hassles. The general gossip is that Dean said one actor in the family was enough, what with the nomad's life actors lead and all the separations they might face, so Millie gladly retired, wanting only to be his wife. She followed him everywhere and they faithfully shunned photographers and refused to grant interviews. Naturally, Dean was blamed for making Millie "aloof" since he always had that "aloof" reputation. She married him in her heyday, career-wise, I would assume. In any case, I have a small clipping about Millie's reaction to the divorce which heavily insinuates Dean divorced her, and that she was heartbroken about it for awhile. She pulled herself together, one reporter observed, and was determined to "make a comeback" in films. A footnote to this, though, was that she was blackballed for her behavior during her marriage to Dean.
Letter 4:
As far as Dean's side of the club goes, he's still in there supporting and contributing his best. He said that he has no intention of withdrawing his support (I had feared that he might, since it took him so many years to agree to a fan club). He's sent me quite a bit of information, but more on that in a moment.
***********
The fact of the matter is, Dean has established personal communication with me and I am the only one he has entrusted with his home address and telephone number. In a way I am naturally very honored and in another way, I feel very MEAN indeed having this privilege when you and others love Dean as much as I do. But I'm sure you understand that I can't break Dean's trust because he has really given of himself a great deal to go this far. He told me that he intends to get a post office box number in his home (the city in which he lives, I mean -- Topanga) for the fan club members to use, if they'd care to write.
***************
Dean sent me a monstrous, fat collection of papers -- his biography, a copy of which should be sent to each member. It's several pages long and would cost a fortune for me to copy, just for a few members. Now I'm holding off having it copied myself, as I'd like to know if you could have it copied free of charge?
***************
I have constructed a newsletter about Dean's doings which I am getting copied immediately to be sent to the members of the club.
************
I have spoken to Dean twice and he is really wonderful, Claire! He is very kind and very natural. Naturally he is very intelligent and has an amazing kaleidoscope of interests. What impressed me singularly about Dean from the phone conversations is that he is very real, very easy. He gives one a very calm, happy feeling about things. My biggest thrill happened when Dean went off in a verbal fantasy, when talking about his hottest new interest, a martial arts form called arnis. He started to act, heatedly talking about this martial art. A performance for me alone. I smiled for days afterward!
*****************
I agree with you, I would like the club to be unique and mature, a true reflection of Dean's greatness. I certainly would not want the club to be teenybopperish, as you say, or in any way an embarrassment to Dean.
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sichengjpeg · 5 years
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50 Questions Tag
tagged by: @winwinshie​ thanks! 
What takes up too much of your time? the internet,,, ha
What makes your day better? waking up early!
What’s the best thing to happen to you today? talked to a friend i haven’t talked to for a while 😗👉👈
What fictional place would you like to go to? was gonna say the avatarverse (the show not the movie) but with my luck i probably would’ve ended up as the cabbage cart guy,,,, so hogwarts provided jk rowling never alters my character details for brownie points 🤩
Are you good at giving advice? so i’ve been told :]
Do you have a mental illness? not that i know of
Have you ever experience sleep paralysis? not yet 
What musician inspired you the most? n/a 😭
Have you ever fallen in love? hmmm i don’t thnik so
What’s your dream date? im boring so idk eating talking and sleeping anywhere scenic and quiet
What do others notice about you? unexpectedness
What’s an annoying habit you have? reading and reviewing aloud when i need to remember information for later HAHAHA I’VE BEEN TOLD IT’S A PAIN IN THE ASS TO STUDY NEXT TO ME
Do you still talk to your first love? dot dot dot
How many exes do you have? 0
How many songs are in your playlist? 157 but i’m adding like 20 songs and taking some out over the weekend
What instruments can you play? piano but barely
What do you have the most pictures of? outings!
Where would you like to go before you die? japan & santorini
What’s your Zodiac? gemini ♊
Do you relate to it? yeah
What is happiness to you? transient and ever-changing
Are you going through anything right now? i am but like isn’t everybody
What’s the worst decision you ever made? my bad decisions all have pros and cons ://
What’s your favorite store? don’t have one!
What’s your opinion on abortion? i know jackshit about either side 😭
Do you keep a bucket list? nooo
Do you have a favorite album? i don’t have an all-time fave but the ones i loved over the years were: death of a bachelor (even if i didn’t like the title track :[]), after laughter, and if OSTs count we HAD TO INCLUDE GOTG’S AWESOME MIXES
What do you want for your birthday? money HAHAHAHA
What are most people’s first impressions of you? that i’m really short and ironically intimidating for reasons i don’t understand,,, i have an idea where that assumption comes from tho so i just try to assure ppl i’m not whatever they’re thinking :|
What age do you seem according to most people? way younger than i am 😭😭😭😭😭😭
Where do you keep your phone while you’re sleeping? bedside table
What word do you say the most? “lmao”
What’s the oldest age you would date? 3 yrs older tho i expect that to change with age. you know how a 13yo and 18yo sounds fucked up but 21yo and 26yo doesn’t really?
What’s the youngest age you would date? 2 yrs younger. yeah im a hypocrite
What job/career do most people say would suit you? lawyer 😳 the way i can barely pay for undergrad says otherwise
What’s your favorite music genre? alt rock, rap, pop, alt ballad
If you could live in any country in the world, where would it be? not sure!
What are your current favorite songs? lucky strike, breakthrough, juicy (don’t judge me), solo, been a while, pretty little fears
How long have you had this blog for? since sept/oct??
What are you excited for? WAYV VARIETY SHOW / WAYV LIFE / STORY OF SEVEN BROTHERS / WEISHENV BONANZA EXTRAVAGANZA !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Are you a better talker or listener? talker,,, :[]
What is the least productive thing you did? sleeping til lunch
What do you want for Christmas? roadtrip opportunity!!!!! it’ll be less than 30 degrees by then so the ideas are endless!!!!! and i can wear winter gear again!!! by winter gear i mean a cardigan 
What class do you get the best grades in? english & trigo
On a scale of 1-10, how are you feeling right now? 7
What can you see yourself doing in ten years? hopefully getting my life together
When did you get your first heartbreak? eh
What age do you want to get married? that’s still very far
What career did you want to have as a child? detective O3O
What do you crave right now? HARDEES
tagging: it feels too awkward to tag so dm me if u wanna do this and i’ll put u on the list ha ha 
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thatdamnokie · 6 years
Text
today, i watched rocknrolla for the first time and kept a running tab of live commentary which can be found below the cut and is a stupid amount of ridiculous and will not make ANY sense unless you’ve also seen rocknrolla and like--have some vague memory of how the movie happens because this was all pretty much stream-of-consciousness or whatever.
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yoooo i dig the opening song. okay. off to a good start.
for real thought the dark castle logo was hogwarts fml
is that… mark’s voice?
who is this muscular motherfucker?
LOOK AT THAT FUCKING BONG PIPE THING
that’s as tall as a toddler what the fuck
look at all these people in this movie!
THAT WAS MARK
mr. strong ladies and gentleman
… wait lenny looks super familiar, what else have i seen him in.
this all seems very complicated.
idris and gerard!
counselor’s cute too
why is everyone in this movie so fucking cute
WHERE ELSE HAVE I SEEN THIS GUY
every time mark speaks i jump
wait is that—gerard’s actual accent?
lenny, you are a terrifying dude.
and mark i want to ruffle your hair.
archie, that profile, sweet gracious.
… fuck he’s in the background and i just can’t stop looking at him.
this all sounds very, very complicated.
he calls him “len” omg
“do i look like a fucking immigrant” u h m
okay so pretty sure i don’t like lenny, they should just let archie be the leader
enter the russiannnsss
your sweater is dumb russian guy
i like his accent though
guys i don’t know enough about real estate hustling to be able to explain this to another person
aw sweet russian sweater man giving him his painting
… wait no camera man show me the painting
“whiskey is the new vodka” sure yuri whatever you say
lenny i can shoot whiskey better than you can you fucking bitch
dude you can’t hold your sauce can you?
archie
archie help him
fuck he is so handsome
that jawline
“famous archie smile” I WANNA SEE
dude you need to be nicer to people when whiskey makes you that sweaty?
… i’m sorry but i think i could outdrink arch’s boss???
bless whoever made mark narrator
yooooo stella!
i like her!
dude she looks boss as fuck
“i don’t feel like smiling”
dude a marriage of convenience where you don’t have regular sex sounds awful
“welcome to the—speeler?” did he say speeler?
tom!
some of the names in the opening credits didn’t look familiar but these faces do.
wait is gerard gay or was he making a joke?
that. accent. gracious.
just picture that growling in your ear. fuck, i want a british boyfriend guys. i mean it.
i like the color scheme of all this like everything’s—muted, but still classy?
okay i dig 1-2 and stella’s broship.
can you imagine just calling him twelve to save time
“just a black eye, nothing more.”
dude she has louboutins! or something like them! the ones with the red bottoms, i’m probably misspelling it.
hanging out at the country club. very classy.
arch, you’re all limbs.
… you’re also scary.
duuuuude he has a way of talking that just makes me nervous. like an undercurrent of a threat, things implied…
“in there like swimwear” i’m stealing that.
duuuuude lenny’s robe though?
i got office envy! look at that desk.
WHO FALLS BACKWARDS IN THEIR CHAIR
oh shit they took the painting
… that i still don’t know what it looks like, guys let me see it
len you are boned.
“and archie’s gonna have to go… to work.”
he is literally the tallest dude in every shot.
is he giving him slapping lessons rn.
… yes he is.
oh
oh
oh no
JESUS
ARCHIE
we do NOT HIT PEOPLE
gracious.
i’m torn because on one hand, that would probably really fucking hurt, his hands are probably as big as my fucking face
on the other hand—would i let mark strong slap me?
… maybe.
“but you keep the receipts because this ain’t the mafia”
idrisssss
fuck if he smiled at me like that i’d do whatever he said too
“everybody have fun tonight! <3” :D EVERYBODY WANG CHUNG TONIGHT
“now fuck off”
oh twelve
ugh all the style in this movie.
wardrobe goals.
i want that bag.
“… maybe.” bro you said that like you wanted the d, and i can’t say i blame you.
i like how yuri says london.
for a split second i thought that was tom holland???
ohhhhh what’s gonna happen now!
does everyone just like—drive mark around in these movies
OMG it’s the same money
this shit is hysterical
i want to mess his hair up. because if we were in public he’d probably hate it and tbh i’d be too scared to do it but maybe privately…
guys… i feel like i’d fit into the uk.
ohhhhh an INFORMANT
… oh that dude is cute!
oh that dude is CRAZY
oh, drugs, right. these are the drugs i do not do.
his name is TWELVE archie
see, he’s so good at being quietly threatening
his laugh is so… <3
i think ship stella and yuri—
oh FUCK i forgot she was married
he’s also gay as shit, yuri
dude she just got so sad…
“you devil”
oh duuuuuude
you want that v so bad and it is so obvious
they both have nice hands.
poor bob. :(
twelve you sweet scottish bastard.
OH
UHM
OKAY
that’s a twist.
twelve noooo
dude be cool
DUDE
DUDE THIS IS NOT HOW YOU HANDLE THIS
CALM DOWN
oh my god
duuuuude, twelve.
dude.
bob. bob honey i am so sorry.
is he crying? T.T
TWELVE DO SOMETHING
“no I’M FUCKING SORRY”
YEAH WELL YOU SHOULD BE
a—a poof?
is ‘poof’ a bad word?
guys i don’t know anything about british slang.
bob honey relax…
ohhhhh i’m not sure if that was a smart question to ask right that second.
archie, you’re so classy and wonderful and probably wouldn’t freak out on people like that. probably.
this van gentleman is so delightful ( i am so bad at names rn )
so his nickname is van gentleman.
TANK
there we go.
i like this broship.
in which arch continues to be all. fucking. leg.
OH SHIT
i was NOT PREPARED
“like most things american they’ve eaten the natives” i mean…
i really like his comparison of the crayfish and greed, but like… i also really want bbq now… (have you HAD bbq crayfish? shit’s delicious.)
also HOLY SHIT was not expecting them to be stuck on him like leeches? that’s terrifying.
archie has like—this hidden mercy about him… like he got a weird look on his face and i couldn’t tell if it had to do with the quid dude or putting the other guy back in with the crayfish.
it’s his STEPSON?
ohhhhh an american!
oh he is handsome.
mickey. <3
what else have i seen this rocker dude in…
“ladies of the pole”
mickey’s hat ftw
oh this fedora guy is cute.
JUNE
i love that name AND her bangs!
this movie was a phenomenal soundtrack
aaannnddd definitely thought that dude was masturbating for a second
wait is that the guy from the beginning?
LENNY
... wwwooooowwww
lenny is an ASSHOLE
LENNY
johnny, johnny honey you do not deserve this
why is this movie full of people who deserve better than they got???
LENNY don’t you DARE
that is NOT OKAY
FUCK YOU
gosh, kid, bless your heart…
SHOW ME THIS FUCKING PAINTING
there are so many different accents in this movie and all it’s doing is confirming the fact that i never left my “i want a boyfriend with a nice voice” phase
“guns nuns and cowboys” idk what this bonanza thing is but i’m in
johnny you are very scary and i’m sorry that your stepdad made you like this.
dude stop touching june?
“it’s tasty and exotic—a bit like your june.” lenny you’re disgusting.
that’s an intense line of questioning, lenny.
this fucking painting.
ARCHIE
STOP FUCKING WITH THE MICROPHONE
oh my god
i literally just want him to never stop talking
omg bob.
dude twelve looks piiiiiiissed.
i think… i missed a part of the plot.
guys i want to be a part of this world but i’m only able to say that because no one’s very asked me to like… torture someone.
or sleep with someone gross.
victor you handsome bastard.
russian is such a guttural language i love it
FUCK YOU LENNY
at least you’re getting better at shooting your whiskey? fucking asshole.
like i like him less and less because he’s just GROSS you guys
jk could still outdrink him.
if you touch archie lenny i will reach through his screen and rip your face off.
i really wouldn’t be threatening someone who could snap you in half but okay
who the hell is cookie?
COOKIE
you look like a one-many party
omg where are your pants
cookie
cookie i love you you disaster of a man
omg i want to be invited to one of these parties
like just let me relax in a corner with an old fashioned and a cute boy
OHHH THEY FUCKED
OH
OKAY
that explains a lot
dude bob that’s—okay but like they thought he was going to prison, that was just an accident
wait does archie know?
dude stella i want to be your friend so you can help me with my wardrobe
… twelve. twelve what are you doing.
stella looks so fucking unimpressed
YEAH BECAUSE SHE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING
dude, stella, girl, i’m sorry
at least one of you can dance
oh bertie you gay as shit
stella why did you marry this man
i like this closed captioning thing they’re doing.
who. is. the. informant.
“and remember—i *am* dangerous.” yes you are baby.
bertie you are so awkward
bob. bobby no. D:
BOB
oh bertie don’t act like you didn’t like getting bossed around i saw it in your face
y’all he is fucking ENAMORED
i’d go see this guy live.
that bouncer wasn’t fucking around. one hit knockouts.
… john. johnny. what are you doing
JOHNNY DO NOT STAB THE BOUNCER
HE IS MAKING ME SO NERVOUS
HOLY SHIT
JOHNNY
ALL RIGHT COOL LET’S JUST SHANK THE BOUNCER
johnny you are batshit crazy
“fucking mutt” wait, what does that mean?
mumbles is a handsome man.
ohhhh this is an awkward conversation.
“made a pass.” right.
ohhhh. oh he knows.
twelve, dude, i’m sorry.
he looks so uncomfortable.
but hey like this means they didn’t fuck so that’s a thing?
boooob, sweetheart. <3
they’re all such good mixes of good and evil.
except lenny. fuck lenny.
ooooo that lady has pretty hair.
oh wait THAT’S cookie?
then who was pantsless homie?
this movie has such a big cast and i can keep track of like four people.
this club lounge place looks cool though.
he helped him get off the rock? that’s pretty rad.
p.s. this movie has a great soundtrack tbh.
all the same kiddos maybe just stick to weed and the occasional hallucinogens
say no to cocaine and crack
oh, johnny. :(
buddy.
holy SHIT this guy’s scars though!
DUDE
how many scars do these russian guys HAVE
… ADJNSJANSOAPSLKKJADSM
TRAIN
OKAY
WAIT NO TRUCK
JESUS
… more scars i guess?
… wait i wonder if archie has scars like that?
ohhhhh noooo yuri.
yuri did your friends die?
LENNY you’re racist and i do not like you.
oooohhhh why do i feel like so many bad things are gonna happen in the last part of this movie.
twelve you’re limping my baby who hurt you
… oh
OH
THAT is who hurt you
also i ship those two russian guys
i like how stella was apparently just watching the entire thing from a distance
and then has the audacity to critique him lmfao
holly shit right into a STOREFRONT
dude NONE of y’all are having a good day
this entire scene is fucking—something else
guns
knives
golf clubs
just
anything you can pick up and use as a weapon at all
WHAT THE FUCK
ARE THESE DUDES JUST INDESTRUCTIBLE
“ABANDON SHIP RUN FOR YOUR LIVES”
YEAH BITCH AGREED
OH SHIT COPS
BOB ARE YOU JUST GONNA WAVE LIKE THEY’RE YOUR BROS
THIS IS STRESSFUL
PARKOUR
bob you look like a puppy
and twelve looks like a zombie
and then there’s mumbles who just stole the coolest bike helmet i’ve ever seen
twelve, honey, you just can’t catch a break
dude russian guy is fucking RIPPED
kudos to who did the cinematography of this because it looks fucking cool
this is the slowest high-intensity chase i’ve ever seen
ripped and covered in blood. i dig it.
twelve you faker
oh hi ruskies
archie do you own any clothing that’s not black, grey or blue…?
fuck i love that jacket, but it’s so long it just makes him look even taller
LENNY
YOU NEED TO NOT BE SO FUCKING RACIST?
and get your hands off his testicles!
gracious.
everyone in this movie needs jesus.
johnny stop calling him pedro.
can…. can i see the painting please.
please.
guys.
this poor scottish guy.
yuri got cake.
johnny… sorta reminds me of freddie mercury in some of these shots? for like a few seconds at a time.
… okay so i’m full of dread between this monologue and what’s happening on the golf course.
lenny. buddy. you really got like. not do that. stop calling everyone immigrants
OH SHIT
GET HIM
GET HIM VICTOR
YOU GO BABY
this is a weird juxtaposition in terms of scenes though?
like
lenny getting his legs beat
and johnny’s super sad speech about the cigs
dude i can’t bring myself to feel bad for len.
wait where’s archie?
“and that is also why i cannot give that painting back.”
this is a set up for something really really bad.
and then they have moments where they act like dudes i know and i warm up to pete and johnny.
bobby stop fucking with that poor man. you’re gonna make him fall in love with you.
“i’m going back to bed.” “can i come?”
*smack* okay, that shit was funny.
johnny you need some chicken.
oh these motherfuckers.
… guys i wanna be a rocknrolla
lmao a protest
that flat looks disgusting.
dude you need to treat your bro better
ASJANSJASN
THEY TOOK THE PAINTING
CAN I SEE IT
LET ME SEE THIS FUCKING PAINTING
OH MY GOD THIS IS GREAT
if this movie ends without me seeing this fucking painting i’m going to kill someone
good man cookie.
TANK’S WATCHING P&P
COOKIE YOU DA REAL MVP
gerard’s laugh though
OH
… well then
like if she wasn’t so unhappy in her marriage i’d feel bad
THE INFORMANT YES TELL ME
… sydney shaw?
“where did he learn a word like pseudonym?”
awwww he likes her…
oh she likes him!
okay good because that sex didn’t look romantic at all.
“you’ve got very good taste mr. one-two.”
lenny fuck you.
you’re gonna be alive for like three more years, relax.
archie. <3 that protectiveness—even if it is for lenny.
aaannnnddd enter the russians.
what a clustfuck.
wait TWELVE
DAMNIT TWELVE
OPEN YOUR EYES
… oh you are FUCKED
ooosajdnaksdjnajsdna this is anxiety-inducing
y’all this is why drugs are bad
and then nice outside scene. birds chirping. looks like a lovely day.
oh shit ARCHIE WITH A GUN
there’s no way that twelve is still alive
what the FUCK
am i SEEING
dude archie, me too
omg ARCHIE HELP HIM
that SMILE
dude i’d laugh too
OH
OH SHIT
welp.
okay, we all figured archie was gonna kill people
put your FUCKING TONGUE BACK IN YOUR MOUTH
wait he SHOT TWELVE?
omg everything is happening at once.
wait, stella, what’d you do?
OMG
dude she looked FREAKED OUT
yuri… dude, what are you doing…?
UHM
WHAT
WAIT
WHAT IS HAPPENING
STELLA YOU LITERALLY FUCKED TWELVE LIKE A SECOND AGO
ohhhhhhhhhh
ohhhhhhh noooooo
ohhhhh NOOOOO
oh stella, honey you in danger girl
archie looks a thousand percent done and he’s been around this kid thirty seconds
wait archie was in prison?
this sydney shaw person put arch in prison…
duuuuuude younger!archie ;-;
“uncle arch” T.T
WHAT the fuck, lmao
just whipping out his gun, nbd
archie stop that. they’re babies.
johnny man you’ve—been fucked up for a while.
dude archie you look miserable.
ohhhh nobody died.
THANK YOU ARCHIE
GET HIM
i hate this entire family.
who all is about to die in this weird basement silent hill place.
… dude. johnny’s face though.
like i’ve felt like NO sympathy for lenny this entire time but i feel bad for johnny. :/
“a hot bath and a cold razor”
… dude
“because you’re poison john.”
o u c h
but like he is CRAZY
like
help i don’t know who to feel for
i feel for everyone
… except lenny
OH SHIT
WHAT THE FUCK
LENNY
JESUS
DUDE
HE IS GOING TO KILL HIS OWN STEPSON
what the fuck is happening.
YES THE INFORMANT
wait.
WAIT.
IT’S FUCKING LENNY????
OH MY GOD
“you are a VERY dirty bastard sydney.”
WHAT THE FUCK
WHAT
THE
FUCK
NO
STOP KILLING EVERYONE
I CANNOT DEAL WITH THIS
NO NO NO NO  NO NO NO
NO NO NO NO THIS ISN’T WHAT I WANTED
this is STRESSFUL
“put your hands up!”
*thud*
okay that was funny
THE BOYS!
oh, archie.
oooohhhhh… all this shit…
archie. fuck, you can hear the betrayal in his voice.
shit, this is sad.
“there is no spring without a winter. no life without death.”
… archie?
oh a time skip!
oh SHIT johnny got a GLO UP
“c’mon then give us a cuddle”
i’ll GLADLY you give you a cuddle
OH MY GOD THE PAINTING
SHOW ME
S H O W M E
… you literally put those russian guys in pieces, didn’t you archie.
you terrifying motherfucker.
GUYS I WANT TO BE IN THIS WORLD
FUCK YOU GO GET THEM JOHNNY
... wait was there supposed to be a sequel?
… WAIT
WAIT  NO
NO
YOU FUCKING SHOW ME THAT GOD DAMN PAINTING
oh my god.
fuck it.
fuck that.
nope.
like mid-credit scenes are the least y’all can do.
… wait is that tom and gerard just like fucking with each other, it might be, that’s sort of adorable.
dude that gay club looks like fun though.
i don’t dance because i’ll spill my drink but.
awwwww guys i could watch them dance forever, like, this shit is funny.
ohhhh i hope this means that archie becomes the new lenny. he’d be a much better lenny.
and now we sway to this groovy end credit music while i sit and seethe in hatred that i never saw the painting and i’m pissed about it. :))))))
… fuck.
welp, guess i’ll just have to write shit about how the fuck this dude falls in love with a cop then.
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welcometomy20s · 3 years
Text
August 6, 2021
Reddit Shitpost Review
Review of Season 2 up to Episode 3
The odd coincidence of two fiery and revolutionary redheads retiring around the same time has been noted around the web, and it’s a good starting point for this review. Conan O’Brien is well respected today, but his story has mostly been coming out of a shadow of someone who was great. David Letterman famously moved to CBS as he was bumped out of position by Jay Leno for the Tonight Show, therefore the Late Night had to be replaced by someone new, and someone decided the talented writer of SNL and the Simpson should be the one to take the role. Thus Conan took the helm.
Conan O’Brien’s Late Night had famously a rough start. Conan could replicate the madness of David Letterman, but not his charm. (Of course, Letterman’s CBS show toned down on the antics of his earlier show, making it bland, something similar to Stephen Colbert even though there was a potent political aspect) It took a couple of years for his brand of manners to be accepted by the public, since Conan is charming but very differently from the more conventional charm of Letterman.
Conan O’Brien had to do the same task again by taking over Leno, and that was a failure by anticipation. O’Brien needed months and Leno was impatient in getting his even-more primetime show off the block. In the end, both sides imploded, and Conan ran away to TBS, a smaller place but a place of more comfort for Conan. Conan has been better at holding a niche together, bouncing off his eccentricity against the rest of the world, which is why his travel series is one of the most successful.
I wrote all this preamble to show just how hard it is to take over a well-respected tradition, especially when it was not the conventional choice. Coco’s Reddit Shitpost Review might not be as famous as the Tonight Show or Late Night, but it does garner a sizable audience, and more crucially, a diverse one. When helming this ship, one must be wary of the large turn compared to its relative size. Which was why many were skeptical, someone would take over the show at all.
Haachama would not be the first pick for many. Haachama was on a long hiatus at the time, having an Ano-sized implosion in developing the COEXIST arc, and many wonder if she would ever come back. Most thought she would be like Shion at first, only appearing every couple of months, perhaps a cover or two. Besides, Haachama falls into a hole between comprehension of English and Japanese, which makes her pretty terrible for what Coco did, translating Western culture to a Japanese audience.
But as August slowly approached, and many Hololive members were being swamped with the live show prep bonanza, Haachama appeared out of the blue, re-energized with the motive to take over the Reddit Shitpost Review. This was taken with many jubilation, but also skepticism and worry, as explained above. Can Haachama do it?
But within that skepticism and worry, people forgot about the brilliance of Haachama that makes her unparalleled among her peers. Her COEXIST arc was brilliant in her ability to weave together fan submissions, sometimes minutes before the next episode was due. Her early schedule was consistent and varied even in her harsh environment living in Australia and her Minecraft skills are of the grandest scales, almost bordering on madness. Haachama has so much talent that it scares away people.
So, within three episodes, Haachama’s Shitpost Review was made onto her own with quite a bit of success. Sure, Haachama has a hard time understanding memes, and gives her own spin sometimes, but Coco also had odd ideas about how the meme functioned. And when Haachama did start to understand how memes function, her meme selection has actually been more in-line with the humor code of the general reddit public, therefore the actual contents are a bit more entertaining than previous.
And Haachama has not been afraid of adding her ideas, to the point her passed-overs (the intro screen, GMMF, *next meme*) feels like an unnecessary homage. In the face of the fact of how well-cherished Coco as a personality, especially to the fans of the show, this is an astounding achievement. Third episode was a masterpiece in weaving Haachama’s style to the format of Shitpost review. Her commercial break not only harks back to a similar gag in AsaCoco, it gives long video memes a chance to breathe. And superimposing Botan and Subaru onto a very poorly acted gunfight was greatly synergistic, brilliant in its own right, and a rare one. Three beats of a great meme.
And Haachama has been aggressive in flirting with copyright, since she can be aggressive. Haachama might have been the only one who has gotten a free pass with the whole fall situation, which means there isn’t really much of a target on her head. This also makes the review more in-line with the general ethos, and makes the review more enjoyable as a result. Haachama took her advantage and ran with it, one of the best things about Haachama’s work.
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insomniiyac · 6 years
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Finished my third (and hopefully last) BNHA baby, Anthony~. I tried to copy the whole ref thing and failed horribly. 10/10 will never do again ;__;
Sorry for the low quality, I had to use freaking Google Slides for the text ;__;
She’s totally open for friends and such, so reblog if you’re interested
██████  G E N E R A L //  I N F O
“If it wasn’t illegal, I’d have my birthday suit as my hero suit.”
name : Anthony DeLosReyes (
アンソニー・デロスレイズ)
nickname(s) : “Aunt Anthony”, “The Secret Weapon” (Neito) hero name : Inka age// birthday : 18 ll February 28th gender : female height // weight : 5'7 [172.72 cm] // 168lbs blood type : undetermined
nationality:  Venezuelan-American
class :  1-B (temporarily) / 3-A
██████ B A T T L E  // I N F O
quirk type : Blood Ink
quirk description :  Anthony’s quirk is a mutation of the illness hematidrosis. Hematidrosis, also referred to as blood sweat, is a rare condition in which a human being sweats blood. It is very rare, so it is not very understood. However, the blood sweat generally happens in times of fear and stress. With her quirk, it is the combination of her father’s excess blood quirk and her mother’s ink manipulation quirk. Her blood is a combination of red blood cells and specialized ink cells that she can control at will by drawing it out of her pores and manipulating it.
ability1: (Ink Typhoon)- Anthony wields her ink blood as a huge wave, drowning those in it. Can cause anemia.
ability2:  (Bullet Bonanza)- Combining her ink blood with keratin, she hardens it and shoot at her opponents. Very painful with strong chances of tearing of the skin.
ability3: (Ink Poisoning)- Blood Ink gets released as toxic gas, poisoning those in the area (up to 25 sq feet). Only available under times of intense stress when skin is heated enough. ability4: (Magenta Magic)- She can harden her blood and wield them as weapons such as gauntlets and bats. quirk drawbacks : This is a very unstable and dangerous quirk for its user, so if Anthony isn’t careful she may end up hospitalized from severe anemia. To use this quirk effectively, she has to keep a healthy workout regime and food palette with lots of nutrients as well as staying within a certain weight class. Stats:    power: [4/5] B    speed  [2/5] D    technique[3/5] C    intelligence [5/5] A    cooperativeness[5/5] A
██████ P E R S O N A L //  I N F O
personality :  Anthony, as described by most, is a very relaxed individual. There isn’t much that she’s particularly fazed by and often keeps up an air of optimism wherever she goes. She is also very hardworking and persistent in her goals. Despite growing up with a “literal IV needle in her arm” as she would describe it, it never stopped her from traveling overseas to become a hero.
likes : >>Spicy food. Everything needs spice- even lollipops. She refuses to eat one if it isn’t covered in chili flakes. >>Hair cuts. She prefers her hair short and loves the look of a fresh cut from time to time. >>Lighters. She doesn’t smoke or anything, but she is an avid collector of antique lighters. >>Music. Any in general, really. She has no real preference. Being naked. She’s very confident in her skin and wishes the world was the same way.
dislikes : >>Injustice. Only a villain would like that. >>Lazy, entitled people. She’s had to work hard to get to where she was today and she expects others to put in that same energy. >>…That’s about it, really. She’s fairly open-minded to things.
history : Anthony grew up as an only child to a biker father and a tattoo artist mother in New Mexico, America. Her quirk manifested at the very early age of two which made it very uncontrollable for those around her. She was often dehydrated and sick, often waking up to the horror of being in a pool of her own blood. She had to walk around with an IV needle in her at all times to keep her from passing out and was home schooled up until junior high where they felt she could control her quirk a little better. There, she was able to meet friends and develop the social life she never had growing up. She often hid her quirk and pretended to be quirkless for a while as to not freak anyone out for sweating literal ink blood. However, she drew inspiration from her favorite Japanese hero, Vlad King, whose blood manipulation quirk was similar to hers. Studying her favorite hero closely- she attempted time and time again to manipulate her quirk, mostly with damning results. She’d stay out in the school gym for longer nights as she trained herself to become a hero just like her idol. When she hit eighth grade, a huge opportunity had rise for her. Her school (which was a middle to high school) had recently developed the Hero Acceleration Program (or HAP). The HAP is an international program created for other schools to learn and replicate the same practices and experiences that are offered at Yuuei. A select amount of students are handpicked all over the world to be sent to Yuuei for free through this program and report their experiences back to their home countries. The requirements are that they are to have at least 200 hours of volunteer work, fluent in Japanese speech and writing, a GPA of 3.75, and have at least passed two AP Hero Courses with an A. They tend to pick out those from freshman to sophomore year and is automatically set up with an internship of their choice. Sacrificing the perks of high school life and social interaction, she dedicated herself to meet these requirements; studying kanji and spoken formal and informal Japanese, constantly doing volunteer work after school and on weekends, and loads of studying as well as physically training her body to its limits. She was able to fulfill all of the requirements by sophomore year, though there was one problem… her parents. They didn’t trust her to go overseas without them due to fear of her quirk taking over and killing her and them not being able to do anything about it so they held her back for another two years. Anthony trained harder, hard enough to prove to her parents that she can control it and that she was responsible enough to live out there on her own. She refined her Japanese, learned her social norms, and also lived her social life she never had the ability to years ago. They finally relented and flew her out to Japan where she attends Yuuei. There she met her childhood hero and got so emotional from the fact that he had accepted her to mentor. They set her back as an extra in 1-B so she can get used to how things worked in there for a semester. She wasn’t able to participate in the Sports Festival or the School Field Trip due to her HAP status in the school, but she participates in the training exercises and regular class time. During the duration of her time in 1-B, she took on the nickname “Aunt Anthony” due to her laid-back attitude and her tendency to play a secondary mentor to the others. Recently, due to her level of intelligence and quirk control, she was placed up to 3-A.
██████ R E L A T I O N S H I P S//  I N F O
Sekijiro Kan
: Her biggest idol growing up as well as her mentor. They have a very father-daughter relationship that her actual father gets jealous of- but can’t really blame him. Kan often looks out for Anthony despite her class change and will do random checks with the teacher to make sure she doesn’t get too comfortable. The fact that she even interns under him is still surreal to her.
Pony Tsunotori
: She took a huge liking to Pony Tsunotori who shared her nationality as foreigners from America. They frequently speak to each other in English, Anthony teaching her a bit of Japanese to hopefully combat Neito’s influence on the poor girl.
Neito Monoma
: Neito’s crush is pretty one-sided, though he mostly shows it through passive-aggressively making jabs at her and other genuine mischief. He’s secretly happy that 1-B has a very capable student in their class that can probably rival majority of 1-A despite it all. Anthony knows this and continuously plays along in entertaining his crush, possibly even developing one for the sap.
██████ T R I V I A L //  I N F O
“Aw babes, don’t make that face. I’ll always be your Aunt Anthony, no matter what~!”
Family:   DeLosReyes, Gael (41) - Alive  Quirk Type      Blood Overgeneration     DeLosReyes, Ximena (38) - Alive   Quirk Type      Ink Manipulation
Friends:  Pony Tsunotori, Itsuka Kendo, Neito Monoma, Ibara Shiozaki, (all of Class 1-B really, lol), Izuku Midoriya, Kirishima Ejirou
hobbies :
drawing intricate patterns and artwork.
fun facts + headcanons:
1) Anthony is actually fluent in three languages: English, Spanish, and Japanese.
2) She managed to sucker her mom into tattooing her body as a parting gift before she left to Japan.
3) She was originally supposed to be shipped with Tetsutetsu (in which I have a fic that I may or may not post >u>)
4) She’s a nudist which is mainly why her costume shows so much skin. She uses overheating mainly as an excuse.
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mycryptosuite · 1 year
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