#it would be interesting if they were the one who set nevada in motion with lightnings and stuff like that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cosmica-galaxy · 1 year

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the lil babs scenerios is adorable as hell and i love it

Maybe before that event, can you do a scenerio where how the main boys asked player out?

Or maybe player is the one who suprisingly asked them out..who knows, its your choice 👀

Sorry it took so long! I'm trying to answer my older questions today!

DATING START!

Hank is not a romantic grunt. Heck, barely anyone in Nevada gets into relationships these days. It's almost like a lost practice to them...dating another being in Nevada. But when the Player is involved, Hank is suddenly interested in trying.

It starts out as a normal day before Hank starts acting strange around you. A little bit more...off than usual. He keeps staring at you and looking away when he gets caught gawking. You were worried something was going on with him until you both manage to get some alone time together and Hank suddenly says one thing.

"Date?"

You give him a confused look before saying the current date on the calendar, to which he shakes his head definitely and elaborates.

"You and me...date?"

Finally, it seemed to click with you. Your eyes widen and a blush creeps up on your face as you fidget in place before giving the tall grunt a coy smile. You thought about your relationship as Player and Vessel for a moment...and you did have to admit that Hank has crossed your mind more than once...especially when you think you're alone.

"I...alright! I guess we can try!" You say haphazardly and you don't miss the way that Hank's goggles seem to glitter as he reaches over and picks you up, twirling you around. Enticing a bout of laughter out of you.

Hank's way of showing affection may be gruesome to others, especially since he tends to bring you back valuables that are still attached to the limbs of his victims, but you appreciate that he's trying his best to display his affection in the only ways he knows how.

You love your large murderous vessel and Hank returns the affections with a bloody-faced nuzzle into your cheek.

Sanford and Deimos are a tag team in lots of their missions, but this mission was...unique. Both of them wanted to date their Player and ask them out. But they couldn't really decide how to go about doing that. How can they ask out their PLAYER?

Would you even feel the same about them? Would a god even know how to date? Would THEY even know how to date?? It's been so long since anyone in Nevada has found a reason or a time to date another. Especially since they're amidst the apocalypse. You would think that since the two were already as close as can be to one another, they would have the skill set to ask out the Player effectively. But, that doesn't seem to be the case.

Both of the mercenaries had to brainstorm for a while to come up with a nice plan for their Player. Then one day, they begin to set the plan in motion. Sanford was to prepare a nice meal for you all to share, even if you said 'no' it was still a nice meal that you all can have together, and Deimos was tasked with asking you out and being the humorous one that would butter you up.

So they both get to work.

You were immediately suspicious of Deimos sliding into place on the couch next to you. But you relaxed when he began small chat and told a small array of jokes to you, making you smile as he grins back with his sharp teeth. Then, he starts to grow more and more flustered as he slowly runs out of things to say, checking the time multiple times. Once inquired about why he was doing so, he stutters and fumbles with his words.

"Well...uh...me and Sanford have something planned for you!" Deimos admits, making you tilt your head to the side.

"You see...me and Ford are...we, uh...we really like you a lot and we wanted to show you our...appreciation! Yeah! So Ford is making us all a nice dinner! We wanted you to join us!" Deimos coughs awkwardly as you merely begin to grin widely.

"Oh my, Deimos...are you asking me out~?" You tease.

Deimos could only grow more flustered as you lean in closer to the merc. Your eyes flutter as you mess with the grunt.

"I would love to go to dinner with you both~" You smile while in close proximity to Deimos, as he hunkers in on himself and his face grows redder and hotter by the moment.

The moment is shattered when Ford comes in and announces that the meal was ready, making Deimos quickly jump up and make a comment about how he was hungry, hurrying to leave the room and making you laugh loudly as Sanford stands there confused.

Your date consists of a delicious meal with your two chosen grunts. Each of you having a wonderful time drinking and eating and sharing interests about one another. It's by this time you've caught onto their plot to date you and you decided to make yourself a menace. Every time you would stick a bit of food in your mouth, you would let out a suggestive moan and compliment Sanford on his cooking.

By the end of the dinner, both Sanford and Deimos are sporting burning red faces and you can't help but laugh at them. You even thank them for the dinner date while you begin to leave and you even allude to hopefully having another one with them both soon.

You hear the two of them high-five one another when you leave the room, making you grin in happiness.

Doc is a much more reserved grunt and he comes with his own brand of roadblocks and introverted hurdles. First of all, he's a very busy grunt and he rarely powers down for a proper amount of sleep. Secondly, he's more reserved than your much more obvious vessels. He tends to keep to himself, even when you're aware that he shares the same feelings about you that the others do.

He may think he's sneaky, but you're a sharp one.

You can see how your compliments affect him, how you appreciate him taking the time out of his day to patch up the crew after a mission. You even find your own heart throbbing when in his presence and you've had to control yourself numerous times. Especially when 2B talks...his voice was just so...romantic? Alluring? Attractive? You couldn't really place the word, but every time he spoke, your face would burn in response.

In your mind, the other vessels didn't just click with you like 2B did...but he's so reserved and busy, that for a long time, you refused to acknowledge your feelings about him in a vain attempt to keep your relationship professional. But the heart wants what the heart wants and it was set on 2B.

You know he feels the same, but he probably feels the same way you do. You're a GOD amongst the inhabitants of Nevada. He probably thinks that you're better off with someone else or that you're too important to settle down with a grunt. So, one day, you gain the courage to finally go down to the medbay and talk to 2B.

You were going to ask him out...or at least try and get him to hang out with you.

So, here you find yourself. Standing in the medbay while 2B quietly works at his desk. Taking a sip of coffee before slipping on his mask. He finally takes notice of your presence and nods in your general direction.

"Do you need something, Player? Are you feeling ill?" The pseudo-doctor asks, his red goggles staring you down, making your heartbeat speed up.

"Uh...uh...no, not really...I don't think so?" You mutter, confusedly.

Immediately, all of your confidence seems to dissolve at once the moment he begins to question you. Your heart was now thundering in your chest just from hearing his voice alone, you don't even have a plan in mind! What were you thinking!?

You should've had an idea before you came down here! Now you just look like a weirdo!! You only snap out of it the moment you feel a gloved hand touch your forehead, you jump in response. Finally coming back to the realm of Nevada and seeing how close 2B became.

"Player, you're burning up. Are you SURE you're okay?" 2B inquires, looking at you for an answer as you shudder in response to his touch.

"Yeah! I'm good!!" You loudly squeak out. Making 2B arch his brow in disbelief. "It's...It's just...It's--!! It only happens when I'm around y--!" You close your mouth and avert your eyes from his gaze.

Why the FUCK would you say that!!?

"Oh? It only happens around me, huh? How peculiar..." You hear that luxurious voice in your ear, making you jump in place. Your face is growing redder and redder by the moment. Oh fuck. He knows.

You feel yourself concede to your flustered state and you nod.

"I...I just react this way because of you 2B. I came down here, not because I'm ill or sick, but because I wanted to ask...if you wanted to spend some time with me...later on...or whenever." Your voice trails off after your explanation and you finally look back at 2B, who seemed surprised.

"Player...I would love to spend more time with you. I have some crucial work to get done right now, but I will have some time for a break later. Would that be fine with you?" 2B asks, to which you nod.

"T-That will work!! I'll get a movie and we can watch it later on!" You hurriedly say, then you slip away from 2B to hide your apple-red face. "I'll see you later on then! Bye!!" You shout as you slip out of the medbay.

Once clear of it, you do a little dance and quietly shriek in happiness. You got a date tonight!! You're going to look your best and pick out a movie that you'll know 2B would like! So, you skip back to the main area of the base to prepare.

On your date, you both sit on the couch in your personal living quarters. 2B having his arm slung around you and you happily resting on his chest while you watch the horror movie unfold. Each of you enjoying a bowl of buttered popcorn in the meantime. Even making small talk and asking how each of you has been.

Your heart was pretty much dancing around in your chest and your stomach was filled with butterflies.

Unbeknownst to you, so was 2B's.

You both merely enjoy your movie and alone time together. Not realizing just how much both parties actually wanted to be together.

#madcom x reader #human!reader x madcom #madcom tag #y/n x madness combat #madness combat x reader #self aware au #self aware m:pn au #madness combat self aware au #Haxorus Imp #hax speaks #cosmica-galaxy #anon #anonymous #anon asks

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flipsidcd · 6 months

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meet carson brennan, a drummer and grocery store cashier who lives in the arts district of ashmore. he's 26, born 06/22, making him a cancer - which makes sense, he is pretty careless and cheerful. he's originally from carson city, nevada; i wonder if he'll stay in ashmore for long ― owen patrick joyner, bisexual, cis man + he/him.

𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒. statistics / timeline / connections & wcs / pinterest / playlist

𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒.

floppy golden hair that keeps falling in your face, bouncy legs, drumming on any surface you can find, big toothy smiles, rolled down windows in a beat up car, the ability to make a game out of anything, matchless optimism, way too much holiday spirit, and wisdom found where you least expect it.

𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘.

the oldest of two children had in a desperate bid to save a failing marriage.

were one to view the earliest of carson's years from an outside lens, there'd probably be cause for concern. the family was in a constant state of flux and motion: moving from place to place, never settling down, never establishing a sense of home or normalcy. had his parents not been as good as they were at shielding their kids from the chaos that was their life, things would have been a lot worse.

in carson's eyes, though, it was all a blast. he's always been an adventurous, outgoing, and optimistic guy, so new places just meant new friends to make and new things to do. being the eternal "new kid" at school during his elementary years never really bothered him either. even if it was only for a fleeting moment, he had a way of worming into the hearts of the people around him. in fact, he still keeps in touch with a good chunk of them.

after his parents finally decided to call it quits when he was 9, he stuck with his mom and sister, and the three officially settled down in ashmore a year later.

his mom remarried when he was 19, introducing a stepfather and his kids into their family.

to be entirely honest, it was hard acclimating to being in one place for an extended period of time. carson left pieces of himself on the open road and every place he lived before, and that's made it hard to really, fully, 100% settle into ashmore the way his sister and mother have.

that being said, he did start a band when he was 14 ! the flip side is a passion born from the love of music he inherited from his mother and the wanderlust he inherited from his father. while the local fame they've garnered recently doesn't really interest him, he's intrigued by the idea of potentially expanding a little bit outward. at least to other places in oregon. mostly he just wants an excuse to roadtrip with his friends.

while the band is his passion, it doesn't really pay the bills. in fact, it sort of does the opposite. to counteract this, carson became the king of the odd job. he's walked dogs, mowed lawns, delivered pizza, newspapers, and everything in-between. he's worked classic jobs too, like at the tackle shop, gas station, arcade, and as a barista and waiter. unfortunately, he's got an issue with maintaining these jobs. not because he's a bad worker ( well... debatable ), but mostly because he gets bored and has a tendency to leave for... not necessarily greener, but newer pastures.

at present, he's working as a cashier at the grocery store. it's okay. he likes that he gets to interact with people a lot, but the paycheck definitely leaves something to be desired. he doesn't really think about that part too much though, much to his friends and sister's chagrin.

sometimes he'll help his sister with her wedding planner business. not in any huge or meaningful way, but he'll help get supplies and set up venues. it's not really his thing, but he likes helping out where he can. again: he's the king of the odd job.

he does not have a college degree. beyond the social aspect, he didn't really like the structure of school ( #justadhdthings ), so he just didn't go back after squeaking through high school.

right now, he's just vibing. he's in an eternal state of just vibing.

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘.

golden retriever energy to a T.

cancer sun, capricorn moon, leo rising. the leo rising runs strong in this one.

he's kinda got spencer from icarly vibes. like, he's a bit of a grown child, but he's got wisdom beyond his age at the same time, you know ?

also has michael berzatto vibes in that he's a bit careless, can make one feel like they can do anything, and everyone feels he's their best friend.

he's really chill. there's very little that can be done to phase him. this is for better and for worse i fear since it can make him a bit of a rug.

he always remembers a face ! honestly he's got a really good memory in general.

would go to the ends of the earth for his friends and family ! he's incredibly loyal !

that said, also a bit non-committal. not in a relationship sense, but in a life sense. he gets bored with jobs and hobbies ( excluding music / drumming / the band, though even those have the occasional dip ) and ditches them for new things at the drop of a hat. he still doesn't mentally feel 100% settled in ashmore, even if he logically is.

the kind of person that will strike up a conversation with anyone and everyone. baristas, customers, some old guy he passed watering his lawn during his morning walk. it literally doesn't matter. he's allergic to being shy.

yes, he goes on daily walks. he loves a daily walk.

can't keep a plant alive to save his life.

often serves as emotional support for his friends and family.

a little gross ! a little bit boy gross ! burps in public ! the 5 second rule is more of a suggestion ; sometimes it can be 10 seconds !

none of the decorations in his apartment were things he picked out. if it were up to him, he'd probably have an r/malelivingspace, but the people in his life have essentially decorated his place for him. in most ways this is a good thing, but there's definitely a few more... questionable items that he got as gag gifts ( there are so many ugly throw blankets and weird knickknacks ).

a bit of a sleeper agent at trivia night. knows a lot of random, pointless knowledge. ...what ? he may not have done great in school, but that doesn't stop him from watching a lot of trivia shows.

#ashmoreintro #THIS IS SOOOO LATE I'M SORRY #but hi take a puppy boy

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skyexchanges-blog · 1 year

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Casino Business History - Reality And Legends - Part Four

According to the data provided by the specialists, Las Vegas consumes more electric energy than the whole France. Casino-hotels are side by side with each other and each strives to attract the potential client with something different that could not be found at the competitor's place: from the constructed "mini-Manhattan" with small copies of the most famous New York sky scrapers and statute of liberty to "Egypt Pyramid" with a very bright projector on the top seen from the jet planes. Casinos are competing with each other in the design of their building, shows - national finals of rodeo and prestigious contests of popular songs - are held there. But still the roulette wheel remains "engine for progress". As local people say, a few years ago there was an effort to introduce "dress code" for entering the casino. But soon the idea was abandoned - what is the difference who comes - a gentleman in the tuxedo or a guy wearing shorts, a lady in the cocktail dress or a housewife in the slippers - the main thing they are staking and playing! Rino is a little less popular than Las Vegas - "the largest of the smallest cities in the world", another gambling capital, "a small copy of Las Vegas", where luxurious hotels and casinos offer all the client wants: from "suites for just-married" (it is a whole industry in Nevada) to roulette and cards.

Where the mafia starts.

probably no story about gambling would be complete without mentioning about such its aspect as relations with the criminal world - or mafia - if you prefer it. America still remembers as on a summer evening of 1947 a US citizen Benjamin Siegel was murdered by an unknown gunman who fired a shotgun blast as Siegel sat in his apartment of the Beverly Hills. He was also knows as "Bugsy" - one of the Las Vegas mobsters, owner of a luxurious hotel Flamingo who invested in it a fantastic for these times sum of money amounting to 6 million dollars.

"Behind the underground".

Still, the experts point out that gambling may hardly be completely banned even in theory. Tom Clancy in his "Op Center" describes Japanese game pachinko: "The game is played much like a vertical version of pinball with the player shooting the ball into the game in much the same fashion as in pinball. The balls fall down between slots on the game layout and most disappear at the bottom, but some fall into special holes. This sets into motion a type of slot machine. As with slots, the player wins if three matching pictures or symbols appear. The winner gets new balls. The balls can be exchanged for prizes. Even though gambling is illegal in Japan the parlors find ways around it. The balls can be turned in for prizes at the pachinko parlor's gift shop, but also can be exchanged for merchandise that can then be exchanged for cash at a window outside the pachinko parlor. Small teddy bears cost 20 thousand yens for a bear, big toy rabbits were as twice as expensive and you could get about sixty thousand yen for a toy tiger".

The most surprising event took place in USSR in late 70s. On one of the enterprises of the former Soviet Baltic states a production of quite an interesting toy under an innocent name "swing-bingo" (loto) was launched. In fact it was a prototype of a roulette, but much smaller. All the rest was just like in real casino: playing field, ball, numbers, "red and black"... It was available in the shops. The passion for risk and hazard was so strong that even Communist ideology could do nothing about it: even in the worst times of the soviet totalitarianism there were totalizator racings. In Israel where gambling is prohibited another solution was found - in the evening a boat sails away from Eilat and casting anchor in neutral waters - opens the doors of the casino...

It is not an accident that, on leaving Rino you can see a box with one arm bandit on the first rate high way which splits the desert. The sign on the box says: "One more chance. Take it! "

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silent-era-of-cinema · 3 years

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John Brown (September 1, 1904 – November 14, 1974) was an American college football player and film actor billed as John Mack Brown at the height of his screen career. He was mostly in Western films.

Born and raised in Dothan, Alabama, Brown was the son of Ed and Mattie Brown, one of eight siblings. His parents were shopkeepers.[3] He was a star of the high school football team, earning a football scholarship to the University of Alabama. His little brother Tolbert "Red" Brown played with "Mack" in 1925.

After he finished college, he sold insurance and later coached the freshman running backs on the University of Alabama's football team.

While at the University of Alabama, Brown became an initiated member of Kappa Sigma fraternity.

Brown was a prominent halfback on his university's Crimson Tide football team, coached by Wallace Wade. He earned the nickname "The Dothan Antelope" and was inducted into the College Football Hall of Fame. Pop Warner called him "one of the fastest football players I've ever seen."

The 1924 team lost only to Centre. Brown starred in the defeat of Georgia Tech.

1925

Brown helped the 1925 Alabama Crimson Tide football team to a national championship. In that year's Rose Bowl, he earned Most Valuable Player honors after scoring two of his team's three touchdowns in an upset win over the heavily favored Washington Huskies. The 1925 Crimson Tide was the first southern team to ever win a Rose Bowl. The game is commonly referred to as "the game that changed the south." Brown was selected All-Southern.

Brown's good looks and powerful physique saw him portrayed on Wheaties cereal boxes and in 1927, brought an offer for motion picture screen tests[6] that resulted in a long and successful career in Hollywood. That same year, he signed a five-year contract with Metro–Goldwyn–Mayer.[10] He played silent film star Mary Pickford's love interest in her first talkie, Coquette (1929), for which Pickford won an Oscar.

He appeared in minor roles until 1930 when he was cast as the star in a Western entitled Billy the Kid and directed by King Vidor. An early widescreen film (along with Raoul Walsh's The Big Trail starring John Wayne, produced the same year), the movie also features Wallace Beery as Pat Garrett. Brown was billed over Beery, who would become MGM's highest-paid actor within the next three years. Also in 1930, Brown played Joan Crawford's love interest in Montana Moon. Brown went on to make several more top-flight movies under the name John Mack Brown, including The Secret Six (1931) with Wallace Beery, Jean Harlow, and Clark Gable, as well as the legendary Lost Generation celebration of alcohol, The Last Flight (1931), and was being groomed by MGM as a leading man until being abruptly replaced on Laughing Sinners in 1931, with all his scenes reshot, substituting rising star Clark Gable in his place. MGM and director Woody Van Dyke screen tested him for the lead role of Tarzan the Ape Man but Van Dyke didn't feel he was tall enough.

Rechristened "Johnny Mack Brown" in the wake of this extremely serious career downturn, he made low-budget westerns for independent producers and he never regained his former status. Eventually he became one of the screen's top B-movie cowboys, and became a popular star at Universal Pictures in 1937. After starring in four serials, in 1939 he launched a series of 29 B-westerns over the next four years, all co-starring Fuzzy Knight as his comic sidekick, and the last seven teaming him with Tex Ritter. This is considered the peak of his B-western career, thanks to the studio's superior production values; noteworthy titles include Son of Roaring Dan, Raiders of San Joaquin and The Lone Star Trail, the latter featuring a young Robert Mitchum as the muscle heavy. A fan of Mexican music, Brown showcased the talents of guitarist Francisco Mayorga and The Guadalajara Trio in films like Boss of Bullion City and The Masked Rider. Brown also starred in a 1933 Mascot Pictures serial Fighting with Kit Carson, and four serials for Universal (Rustlers of Red Dog, Wild West Days, Flaming Frontiers and The Oregon Trail).

Brown moved to Monogram Pictures in 1943 to replace that studio's cowboy star Buck Jones, who had died months before. Brown's Monogram series was immediately successful and he starred in more than 60 westerns over the next 10 years, including a 20-movie series playing "Nevada Jack McKenzie" opposite Buck Jones's old sidekick Raymond Hatton, beginning with the 1943 film The Ghost Rider. Brown was also featured in two higher-budgeted dramas, Forever Yours and Flame of the West, both released by Monogram in 1945 and both billing the actor under his former "A-picture" name, John Mack Brown.

When Monogram abandoned its brand name in 1952 (in favor of its deluxe division, Allied Artists), Johnny Mack Brown retired from the screen. He returned more than 10 years later to appear in secondary roles in a few Western films. Altogether, Brown appeared in more than 160 movies between 1927 and 1966, as well as a smattering of television shows, in a career spanning almost 40 years.

Brown was married to Cornelia "Connie" Foster from 1926 until his death in 1974, and they had four children.

For his contributions to the film industry, Brown was inducted into the Hollywood Walk of Fame in 1960 with a motion pictures star at 6101 Hollywood Boulevard. He received a posthumous Golden Boot Award in 2004 for his contributions to the Western entertainment genre. In 1969, Brown was inducted into the Alabama Sports Hall of Fame.

Brown's hometown holds an annual Johnny Mack Brown Western Festival because “If anyone ever brought attention to Dothan, it was Johnny Mack Brown,” a city official said.

Brown is mentioned in the novel From Here to Eternity. In a barracks scene, soldiers discuss Western films, and one asks, "Remember Johnny Mack Brown?", resulting in a discussion.

From March 1950 to February 1959, Dell Comics published a Johnny Mack Brown series of comic books. He also was included in 21 issues of Dell's Giant Series Western Roundup comics that began in June 1952.

In 1974, Lester "Roadhog" Moran and the Cadillac Cowboys released Alive at the Johnny Mack Brown High School, a comedy album set at a fictitious school named after Brown.

Brown died in Woodland Hills, California, of heart failure at the age of 70. His cremated remains are interred in an outdoor Columbarium, in Glendale's Forest Lawn Memorial Park Cemetery.

#johnny mack brown #silent era #silent hollywood #silent movie stars #golden age of hollywood #classic movie stars #classic hollywood #1920s hollywood #1930s hollywood #1940s hollywood #1950s hollywood #1960s hollywood

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thatesqcrush · 4 years

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After Midnight, Pt. 2

Nevada Ramirez x Reader. AN: Fic prompt from lyrics # 8 “tonight the foxes hunt the hounds” as requested by @melsquared79. Cw: alcohol, language, dub-con, smut - rough sex, oral sex, all the sex. Def NSFW. WC: 4K. FYI: this fic was totally inspired by the Camila Cabello song, “My Oh My” which you should totally give a listen to.

***

You shifted in your seat, your eyes staring back into the piercing green eyes of the drug lord in front of you. “And how do you know where I live?”

“I went through your wallet,” Nevada replied casually, as he reached to light up a cigar.

“When?” you questioned.

“After you fell asleep.”

You furrowed your brows. “Do you always give your hook-ups a ride home or am I just that special?”

Nevada pulled you close to him. He ran his finger down your cheek. “Maybe it’s the latter. Is there a problem with that?”

“Y/N, you have had a hard few weeks; you deserve to come out and loosen up a little,” your friend Nina implored. “Lost your job, got dumped –”

“Don’t remind me,” you sighed. “I just don’t feel like going out.”

“Come on – it’ll be good for your soul. Besides – you have been cooped up in your apartment for a week. You look like hell. And you kind of smell like it too,” Nina retorted, her nose crinkling.

“Shut up! You’re demasiado – I do not smell,” you shrieked defensively, half shoving your friend away. You paused. “Wait – do I really?”

“No – you don’t smell. But you do look like shit. So come out, live a little, and then you can go back into your hidey-hole,” Nina replied. “Wear that black dress of yours. The one with the plunging v-neck. I will pick you up at nine. There’s a club in the Bronx that is supposed to be all the rage.”

“All the rage? Didn’t that lingo go out with the ‘90s?” you replied, your brow cocked at her.

“The ‘90s are coming back – you see it all over the stores. Just fucking come out. It’ll be fun.”

***

In the end, you opted for dark skinny jeans, a fitted low-cut black tank top and leopard caged heels. Your hair was tousled, thin hoop earrings hung off your ear and stacks of bangles hung off your wrist. Your heels clicked against the wet pavement. You spotted your gaggle of friends waiting on the line and you waved at them as you approached. The bouncer cocked his brow and waved you over. He asked you for your ID which you quickly produced.

“She’s with us,” Nina replied, resting her head on your shoulder as the bouncer reviewed your ID. He nodded and waved you and your girlfriends in. The music was loud – you could feel the vibrations in your bones. By sheer luck a table in the corner was free and you all quickly claimed it – various purses and wristlets covered it quickly. You pushed your way through the crowd at the bar and opened up a tab. First a round of tequila shots was ordered; a mix of cocktails and beers were followed. Your mind was fuzzy, but you still had a good grasp of what was going on.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of striking green eyes was watching you intently from a balcony from above. It was Nevada Ramirez, the self-proclaimed King of Washington Heights. You were dancing with a friend and seemingly having a good time. A server came by with a tray of shots and he watched as you plucked one off the tray and tossed it back with the flick of your wrist. His eyes raked over your body and he appreciated how well your ass looked in the denim you wore. His eyes trailed up, from the dip of your waist to the soft curve of your breasts. He had never seen you at the club before. He knew thought that he wanted you. “Oye, quién eres tu?” he murmured.

Nevada swallowed the amber colored liquid he was holding and took one last deep inhale of the cigar before he made his way downstairs.

After a few songs, you decided to take a break. You managed to get a glass of water and you sucked it down while you watched everyone else have a good time. You checked your phone and was about to check on what your jerk of an ex was up to when a voice interrupted you.

“Are you bored ma?”

You looked up taken aback at the interruption. “Excuse me?” In front of you was the hottest man your eyes had the pleasure of seeing. You licked your lips and swallowed hard.

Nevada gave you a small smile. “You looked good dancing. And now I see you checking your phone. So are you bored or do you have some boyfriend checking in on you?”

“No boyfriend,” you replied. You looked past Nevada at your friends who were still dancing. “Just checking on the time,” you lied. “It’s late.”

“It’s only after midnight.” Nevada replied. “Things are just starting up.” He stepped closer to you and you could smell the mixture of alcohol and cigar smoke on his person. “Ven,” he continued, motioning with his head towards the dance floor. “Baila conmigo.”

“And you are…?” your voice trailed off as you took in his appearance. Tight black jeans, tight black tank top. His cologne gave off an intense masculine aroma. ‘Goddamn,’ you thought to yourself.

“Nevada Ramirez. I own this club.”

You cocked a brow. “Impressive.”

“You don’t have to tell me. Come. Baila conmigo.”

You paused. You were about to shake your head when Nina caught your eye. “Go,” she silently mouthed. You looked back at Nevada who was staring at you intently. The gold crucifix he wore glinted under the overhead lights.

“No one fucking tells me no,” Nevada snapped impatiently.

‘What do I have to lose?’ you thought. “Okay, su alteza real.” Nevada led you to the dancefloor, his hand concentrated on the small of your back.

A song with a prominent bass line and drum beat played over the speakers. You didn’t recognize the song but you were quick to note how the male and females singers voices wrapped around each other’s – like a silk against the body. Whatever the song was, it was intoxicating - just like Nevada.

Nevada gripped your hip with one hand, encouraging you to press them against his. You rocked against his body, knees bent, you each moving your hips in circular motions.

“Dulce angelita,” Nevada purred in your ear. “What is your name?”

“YFN, YLN,” you replied. Nevada had placed his mouth against your ear, letting his heavy breath tickle your skin. “Well, Y/N, I am here for one thing.”

The dance floor had filled up, pressing you even closer to him. At one point, Nevada spun you to face him. Your faces were millimeters apart, your bodies were slicked with sweat and your breaths were heavy. Nevada watched as a bead of sweat rolled down your décolletage and he followed it as trailed down between your breasts. He growled low. You followed his movements and took a deep breath, arching your chest in his face.

In your opinion, Nevada was walking sex. You weren’t sure if it was just that you were feeling down about your current life situation or the alcohol or a mixture of both but you were suddenly feeling like you could use a good time.

You smirked before responding. “So am I.”

Nevada captured your lips with his. The kiss was rough and needy, all teeth and tongue. You moaned as you pressed closer to him. As quickly as the kiss began, it ended with him pulling away just as roughly.

Nevada gripped the back of your neck, forcing you to look at him. “You need to say it mami – use that fucking mouth of yours.”

“Yes,” you replied, asserting your consent.

***

Nevada’s apartment was attached to the club. He liked being close to business. The elevator to his apartment was in the back of the club. To any other club-goer, it looked like a defunct elevator. But it was set up purposely that way. Nine times out of ten, Nevada just took his conquests to his office which was located by the balcony. Hit it and quit it was his motto. And it served him well. Many ladies threw themselves at the King of the Heights – sometimes it was for sex; sometimes it was for money – that he always collected back on with interest; sometimes it was for drugs – sometimes it was for all three. He never took them back to his place. But there was something about you, that Nevada knew was different.

So he broke his own rule.

***

Once in the elevator, Nevada wasted no time. He was on within seconds. His hands grabbed at the hem of your tank top and pushed them upwards, touching your exposed skin. His hands trailed upwards to your tits, cupping them. The kiss between the two of you was open mouthed, hot and heavy. Your tongues battled each other’s, each trying to get more surface area.

Any other time you would have appreciated the bird-cage like appearance of the elevator. The wrought iron was a mix of twists and beams. The ceiling of the elevator had a chandelier that hung off of it with a blue light and the surroundings were mirrored, so the lights bounced off the reflection, creating an ethereal effect. The elevator lurched to a stop and Nevada opened the door.

You both had taken a few steps into the apartment when Nevada pushed you against the wall, again kissing you hard. He used one hand to pin your arms above your head, while the other continued to explore your upper half. Nevada tugged your tank up once more and then tugged down your bra exposing your breasts. He twisted and tugged on a nipple, before he moved onto the other. You moaned as he did so. Nevada broke the kiss again and then dipped his head to a globe. You moaned again as he captured a nipple in his mouth.

“Escuchame atentamente cariño – I am going to make you cum. First with my mouth, then with my cock. Me entiendes?”

You nodded. “Please. Yo quiero tu pinga.”

“You have some amazing tits,” Nevada complimented. “Makes me want to put my cock in between them.”

You groaned at the idea, a jolt of pleasure coursed through you. You could feel your arousal dampen your panties and nodded once more.

Nevada turned you around, so you faced the wall. He pressed himself against you and rubbed himself against your ass in an attempt to give himself some relief from his own ache, which was throbbing.

You could feel how hard Nevada’s cock was and you pushed back, teasing.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered. Nevada took your arms and planted them above your shoulders, so they braced the wall. He reached between you and the wall and unbuttoned the fly of your jeans. Your jeans and panties were pushed down in one movement and to your ankles. Nevada whistled appreciatively. “Look at that ass. Damn mami.”

Nevada wasted no time. His mouth was on your eager and soaked cunt. His hands were firm on your butt cheeks, keeping you spread open. He used the flat of his tongue to lick broad stripes between your lips before thrusting his tongue into you. You squirmed as Nevada fucked you with his mouth. He alternated long swipes with flicks. “Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you moaned.

Nevada paused to breath, licking your inner thigh and sucking a mark onto your skin. He resumed his actions like a man starved. You tried to undulate against his mouth, but he kept you in place. Nevada’s hot breath tickled your clitoris and he snaked two thick fingers inside of you. “Oh Jesus fuck,” you cried out as you felt your orgasm begin to build. Nevada could sense you were close, as your walls began to flutter around his fingers. Nevada removed his fingers and dove back into your folds, shaking his head and humming simultaneously. He continued to tease you to the point where you were begging to come. You started shivering and Nevada knew he found a good spot and he decided to chill there for awhile. You praised Nevada’s actions and chanted his name as if it were a prayer. Nevada slipped his fingers back inside of you and pumped them rapidly in and out of you. The wet slick sounds of his fingers in your pussy, his mouth also there, the friction of his beard on your thighs, it was all too much. You came hard, wailing his name as your cunt clenched his fingers. Your release coated his face and fingers. Nevada drank you all in, he couldn’t get enough.

Your body trembled as Nevada pulled away. He turned you back around so that you faced him and he made a big show of slowly sucking his fingers. “Mmmm, delicioso. So fucking sweet,” he purred.

Nevada took a few steps back, Nevada kicked off his boots and he unbuckled his belt and then shoved off his jeans. It wasn’t a surprise to you that he was going commando. Your eyes slightly widened at the sight of his cock. It was long and thick and by your recollection, bigger than your ex’s. His cock was painfully hard, pre-cum oozed from the head. Your eyes met and you nodded. You followed his lead and removed your top and bra, flinging them in one direction. You kicked off your heels as well and then made quick work of your jeans and underwear. You were completely nude. Nevada drank you in. Your body was amazing and he couldn’t wait to fuck you. He took a few steps and he was on you once more, carrying you over his shoulders and to the bed.

He dropped you on the bed and you spread yourself wantonly, rubbing your clitoris once more. You had one orgasm and were eager for more. “Mmm, yeah play with that pussy while you suck this cock,” Nevada ordered. You sat up half-way and propped yourself so you could get to his cock. Nevada brushed his cock against your cheek, before pushing it into your mouth. You moaned as his musky, salty taste flooded your mouth. You eagerly bobbed on his cock, relaxing your jaw to take more of him into your mouth. You used one hand to pump his cock as you traced the prominent vein on his cock all the way to the “v” on the underside. Nevada hissed as he watched his cock slip in and out of his mouth. “Such a good cocksucker,” Nevada praised. “Makes me want to blow my load into the pretty little mouth of yours.”

You nodded. Nevada bucked his hips, pushing his cock further into your mouth. You gagged and spluttered around his cock, your eyes beginning to tear, causing your mascara to run and saliva dribble down your chin. Nevada’s hands threaded your hair and gripped your scalp tightly as he fucked your face, grunting as he did so.

Nevada pulled away roughly and you gasped for air. Your chest rose and fell quickly and you watched as Nevada crawled over to you. He straddled your chest and ran a hand down in the space between your breasts. He cupped your breasts once more, tugging and twisting your nipples before sliding his cock in between. You used your hands to hold your breasts and Nevada began to fuck your tits. Every once in awhile you would jut out your tongue to lap at the head of his cock.

“Mmm I want to cum on those tits so badly,” Nevada groaned as he watched his cock slide in and out. “But I think I want to save that for your pussy.”

“Yes, please come in that pussy,” you begged. “I want it. Fill me up.”

Nevada climbed off of you, and pushed on your side, encouraging you to roll over. You rolled onto your stomach and Nevada pulled you up so you were on all fours. “Do you have…protection?” you panted.

Nevada gave your ass a good smack and you squealed in response. The mattress creaked as he moved off the bed. You heard footsteps, a drawer open, and then the sound of foil ripping. The bed dipped once more with Nevada’s weight. You felt him line his cock along your entrance, and he rubbed against your folds, teasing. You let out an eager moan. “Please,” you begged. “Fuck me.”

Nevada slid his cock into you in one motion, burying himself to the hilt. “Only because you asked me so nicely mamita.” You gasped as he did so, feeling delightfully stretched and full. “Oh God,” you choked out.

Nevada slowly pulled out and then slowly thrusted back in again, letting you get accustomed to his size before speeding up his thrusts, fucking you harder, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. The tips of his fingers dug into your flesh and you knew you’d be bruised in the morning.

“Oh yes, damelo duro,” you implored. You reached down to circle your clit and Nevada stilled.

“Oh no,” Nevada panted, circling his hips slowly, which elicited a whine from you. “Not yet. Damn mami, you’ve got that bomb pussy. You take my cock so good,” he grunted.

You planted your arm back on the bed and Nevada resumed fucking you from behind. Eventually, he pulled out and sat back on his haunches. You looked over your shoulder, confused.

Nevada pointed to his cock, which was coated in your cream and you nodded, understanding. You took Nevada into your mouth, eagerly bobbing on his cock. Nevada groaned and he reached over to slip his fingers into your pussy. You hummed in appreciation and Nevada growled at the sensation the vibrations caused. He gripped your head tightly, causing you to gag and splutter once more. Nevada pulled up your head tightly, causing you to meet his eyes. His green eyes were dark and full blown with lust.

“Saddle up.” Nevada laid on his back and you crawled over on top of him and began to ride him eagerly. Nevada grunted as he watched your tits bounce. One hand remained on your hips, guiding you and another squeezed your breasts. You could feel your orgasm build once more – quicker than before as you were already at the precipice. “Please let me cum,” you begged. “I am so close.”

Nevada could feel your walls fluttering around his cock. His own orgasm was quickly approaching but he wasn’t ready to come just yet. You were too gorgeous of a creature and he wanted to savor every moment. You leaned back, your arms gripped the tops of his thighs. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, yes, yes,” you chanted.

Nevada reached up to rub your swollen pink pearl and you gasped once more, your eyes squeezing shut. “I’m going to… I am going to… “

Nevada sat up fully and captured your mouth with his as you came hard around his cock. You wrapped your arms around his neck and wrapped your legs around his waist. Your tongues battled one another’s as you both chased your own orgasms. Nevada’s thrusting became erratic and he stiffened against you as he came hard, grunting your name in your ear. Hearing him lose control caused you to come once more.

Both of you were completely spent and you collapsed against Nevada as he laid back down on the bed. He reached down and removed the condom from his now softening cock. He tied it quickly before tossing it to the side of the bed to deal with later.

You hadn’t meant to fall asleep and normally Nevada would have minded, but something inside of him told him this was different – you were different. So he let you stay the night. After you fell asleep, he climbed out of bed and found your purse, quickly finding your ID. He made a mental note of your name and address and then went back to bed. You snored lightly on his chest as he looked you up.

***

“I’m special?”

The car lurched to stop. From the window you could tell that despite the early hours, traffic was starting to build. It would take forever to get home at the rate you were going. But you didn’t mind.

“I get what I want.”

“And what you want is me?”

“I already had you.”

“So, then we should be good,” you replied with a wink. Your phone buzzed and you quickly looked at it, realizing you would need to get back to your friends.

Nevada placed a hand on your leg. “I am a King without his Queen.”

You looked out the window, watching as the light changed from red to green. You racked your brain, wondering how you got yourself into this situation and then went over your other situation. This was messy. ‘To hell with it,’ you thought. You took a deep breath and then turned to face Nevada. “Aside from the sex, what’s in it for me?”

Nevada smirked. “I was hoping you’d say that mami.”

FIN.

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carole-lombard-screwball-queen · 4 years

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Carole Lombard (born Jane Alice Peters; October 6, 1908 – January 16, 1942) was an American actress, particularly noted for her energetic, often off-beat roles in screwball comedies. She was the highest-paid star in Hollywood in the late 1930s and in 1999, the American Film Institute ranked Lombard 23rd on its list of the greatest female stars of Classic Hollywood Cinema.

Lombard was born into a wealthy family in Fort Wayne, Indiana, but was raised in Los Angeles by her single mother. At 12, she was recruited by director Allan Dwan and made her screen debut in A Perfect Crime (1921). Eager to become an actress, she signed a contract with the Fox Film Corporation at age 16, but mainly played bit parts. She was dropped by Fox just before her 18th birthday after a shattered windshield from a car accident left a scar on her face. Lombard appeared in fifteen short comedies for Mack Sennett between 1927 and 1929, and then began appearing in feature films such as High Voltage (1929) and The Racketeer (1929). After a successful appearance in The Arizona Kid (1930), she was signed to a contract with Paramount Pictures.

Paramount quickly began casting Lombard as a leading lady, primarily in drama films. Her profile increased when she married William Powell in 1931, but the couple divorced amicably after two years. A turning point in Lombard's career came when she starred in Howard Hawks's pioneering screwball comedy Twentieth Century (1934). The actress found her niche in this genre, and continued to appear in films such as Hands Across the Table (1935) (forming a popular partnership with Fred MacMurray), My Man Godfrey (1936), for which she was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Actress, and Nothing Sacred (1937). At this time, Lombard married "The King of Hollywood", Clark Gable, and the supercouple gained much attention from the media. Keen to win an Oscar, Lombard began to move towards more serious roles at the end of the decade. Unsuccessful in this aim, she returned to comedy in Alfred Hitchcock's Mr. & Mrs. Smith (1941) and Ernst Lubitsch's To Be or Not to Be (1942), her final film role.

Lombard's career was cut short when she died at the age of 33 aboard TWA Flight 3, which crashed on Mount Potosi, Nevada, while returning from a war bond tour. Today, she is remembered as one of the definitive actresses of the screwball comedy genre and American comedy, and icon of American cinema.

Lombard was born in Fort Wayne, Indiana, on October 6, 1908 at 704 Rockhill Street. Christened with the name Jane Alice Peters, she was the third child and only daughter of Frederick Christian Peters (1875–1935) and Elizabeth Jayne "Bessie" (Knight) Peters (1876–1942). Her two older brothers, to each of whom she was close, both growing up and in adulthood, were Frederick Charles (1902–1979) and John Stuart (1906–1956). Lombard's parents both descended from wealthy families and her early years were lived in comfort, with the biographer Robert Matzen calling it her "silver spoon period". The marriage between her parents was strained, however, and in October 1914, her mother took the children and moved to Los Angeles. Although the couple did not divorce, the separation was permanent. Her father's continued financial support allowed the family to live without worry, if not with the same affluence they had enjoyed in Indiana, and they settled into an apartment near Venice Boulevard in Los Angeles.

Described by her biographer Wes Gehring as "a free-spirited tomboy", the young Lombard was passionately involved in sports and enjoyed watching movies. At Virgil Junior High School, she participated in tennis, volleyball, and swimming, and won trophies for her achievements in athletics. At the age of 12, this hobby unexpectedly landed Lombard her first screen role. While playing baseball with friends, she caught the attention of the film director Allan Dwan, who later recalled seeing "a cute-looking little tomboy ... out there knocking the hell out of the other kids, playing better baseball than they were. And I needed someone of her type for this picture." With the encouragement of her mother, Lombard happily took a small role in the melodrama A Perfect Crime (1921). She was on set for two days, playing the sister of Monte Blue. Dwan later commented, "She ate it up".

A Perfect Crime was not widely distributed, but the brief experience spurred Lombard and her mother to look for more film work. The teenager attended several auditions, but none was successful.[11] While appearing as the queen of Fairfax High School's May Day Carnival at the age of 15, she was scouted by an employee of Charlie Chaplin and offered a screen test to appear in his film The Gold Rush (1925). Lombard was not given the role, but it raised Hollywood's awareness of the aspiring actress. Her test was seen by the Vitagraph Film Company, which expressed an interest in signing her to a contract. Although this did not materialize, the condition that she adopt a new first name ("Jane" was considered too dull) lasted with Lombard throughout her career. She selected the name "Carol" after a girl with whom she played tennis in middle school.

In October 1924, shortly after these disappointments, 16-year-old Lombard was signed to a contract with the Fox Film Corporation. How this came about is uncertain: in her lifetime, it was reported that a director for the studio scouted her at a dinner party, but more recent evidence suggests that Lombard's mother contacted Louella Parsons, the gossip columnist, who then got her a screen test. According to the biographer Larry Swindell, Lombard's beauty convinced Winfield Sheehan, head of the studio, to sign her to a $75-per-week contract. The teenager abandoned her schooling to embark on this new career. Fox was happy to use the name Carol, but unlike Vitagraph, disliked her surname. From this point, she became "Carol Lombard", the new name taken from a family friend.

The majority of Lombard's appearances with Fox were bit parts in low-budget Westerns and adventure films. She later commented on her dissatisfaction with these roles: "All I had to do was simper prettily at the hero and scream with terror when he battled with the villain." She fully enjoyed the other aspects of film work, however, such as photo shoots, costume fittings, and socializing with actors on the studio set. Lombard embraced the flapper lifestyle and became a regular at the Coconut Grove nightclub, where she won several Charleston dance competitions.

In March 1925, Fox gave Lombard a leading role in the drama Marriage in Transit, opposite Edmund Lowe. Her performance was well received, with a reviewer for Motion Picture News writing that she displayed "good poise and considerable charm." Despite this, the studio heads were unconvinced that Lombard was leading lady material, and her one-year contract was not renewed. Gehring has suggested that a facial scar she obtained in an automobile accident was a factor in this decision. Fearing that the scar—which ran across her cheek—would ruin her career, the 17-year-old had an early plastic surgery procedure to make it less visible. For the remainder of her career, Lombard learned to hide the mark with make-up and careful lighting.

After a year without work, Lombard obtained a screen test for the "King of Comedy" Mack Sennett. She was offered a contract, and although she initially had reservations about performing in slapstick comedies, the actress joined his company as one of the "Sennett Bathing Beauties". She appeared in 15 short films between September 1927 and March 1929, and greatly enjoyed her time at the studio. It gave Lombard her first experiences in comedy and provided valuable training for her future work in the genre. In 1940, she called her Sennett years "the turning point of [my] acting career."

Sennett's productions were distributed by Pathé Exchange, and the company began casting Lombard in feature films. She had prominent roles in Show Folks and Ned McCobb's Daughter (both 1928), where reviewers observed that she made a "good impression" and was "worth watching". The following year, Pathé elevated Lombard from a supporting player to a leading lady. Her success in Raoul Walsh's picture Me, Gangster (also 1928), opposite June Collyer and Don Terry on his film debut, finally eased the pressure her family had been putting on her to succeed. In Howard Higgin's High Voltage (1929), her first talking picture, she played a criminal in the custody of a deputy sheriff, both of whom are among bus passengers stranded in deep snow. Her next film, the comedy Big News (1929), cast her opposite Robert Armstrong and was a critical and commercial success. Lombard was reunited with Armstrong for the crime drama The Racketeer, released in late 1929. The review in Film Daily wrote, "Carol Lombard proves a real surprise, and does her best work to date. In fact, this is the first opportunity she has had to prove that she has the stuff to go over."

Lombard returned to Fox for a one-off role in the western The Arizona Kid (1930). It was a big release for the studio, starring the popular actor Warner Baxter, in which Lombard received third billing. Following the success of the film, Paramount Pictures recruited Lombard and signed her to a $350-per-week contract, gradually increasing to $3,500 per week by 1936. They cast her in the Buddy Rogers comedy Safety in Numbers (also 1930), and one critic observed of her work, "Lombard proves [to be] an ace comedienne." For her second assignment, Fast and Loose (also 1930) with Miriam Hopkins, Paramount mistakenly credited the actress as "Carole Lombard". She decided she liked this spelling and it became her permanent screen name.

Lombard appeared in five films released during 1931, beginning with the Frank Tuttle comedy It Pays to Advertise. Her next two films, Man of the World and Ladies Man, both featured William Powell, Paramount's top male star. Lombard had been a fan of the actor before they met, attracted to his good looks and debonair screen persona, and they were soon in a relationship. The differences between the pair have been noted by biographers: she was 22, carefree, and famously foul-mouthed, while he was 38, intellectual, and sophisticated. Despite their disparate personalities, Lombard married Powell on June 6, 1931, at her Beverly Hills home. Talking to the media, she argued for the benefits of "love between two people who are diametrically different", claiming that their relationship allowed for a "perfect see-saw love".

The marriage to Powell increased Lombard's fame, while she continued to please critics with her work in Up Pops the Devil and I Take this Woman (both 1931). In reviews for the latter film, which co-starred Gary Cooper, several critics predicted that Lombard was set to become a major star. She went on to appear in five films throughout 1932. No One Man and Sinners in the Sun were not successful, but Edward Buzzell's romantic picture Virtue was well received. After featuring in the drama No More Orchids, Lombard was cast as the wife of a con artist in No Man of Her Own. Her co-star for the picture was Clark Gable, who was rapidly becoming one of Hollywood's top stars. The film was a critical and commercial success, and Wes Gehring writes that it was "arguably Lombard's finest film appearance" to that point. It was the only picture that Gable and Lombard, future husband and wife, made together. There was no romantic interest at this time, however, as she recounted to Garson Kanin: "[we] did all kinds of hot love scenes ... and I never got any kind of tremble out of him at all".

In August 1933, Lombard and Powell divorced after 26 months of marriage, although they remained very good friends until the end of Lombard's life. At the time, she blamed it on their careers, but in a 1936 interview, she admitted that this "had little to do with the divorce. We were just two completely incompatible people". She appeared in five films that year, beginning with the drama From Hell to Heaven and continuing with Supernatural, her only horror vehicle. After a small role in The Eagle and the Hawk, a war film starring Fredric March and Cary Grant, she starred in two melodramas: Brief Moment, which critics enjoyed, and White Woman, where she was paired with Charles Laughton. “We would have married,” said Carole Lombard during her interview with magazine writer Sonia Lee for Movie Screen Magazine in 1934 about her relationship with Russ Columbo, the famous singer killed in a tragic accident whose movie and radio career she had been guiding.

The year 1934 marked a high point in Lombard's career. She began with Wesley Ruggles's musical drama Bolero, where George Raft and she showcased their dancing skills in an extravagantly staged performance to Maurice Ravel's "Boléro". Before filming began, she was offered the lead female role in It Happened One Night, but turned it down because of scheduling conflicts with this production Bolero was favorably received, while her next film, the musical comedy We're Not Dressing with Bing Crosby, was a box-office hit.

Lombard was then recruited by the director Howard Hawks, a second cousin, to star in his screwball comedy film Twentieth Century which proved a watershed in her career and made her a major star. Hawks had seen the actress inebriated at a party, where he found her to be "hilarious and uninhibited and just what the part needed", and she was cast opposite John Barrymore. In Twentieth Century, Lombard played an actress who is pursued by her former mentor, a flamboyant Broadway impresario. Hawks and Barrymore were unimpressed with her work in rehearsals, finding that she was "acting" too hard and giving a stiff performance. The director encouraged Lombard to relax, be herself, and act on her instincts. She responded well to this tutoring, and reviews for the film commented on her unexpectedly "fiery talent"—"a Lombard like no Lombard you've ever seen". The Los Angeles Times' critic felt that she was "entirely different" from her formerly cool, "calculated" persona, adding, "she vibrates with life and passion, abandon and diablerie".

The next films in which Lombard appeared were Henry Hathaway's Now and Forever (1934), featuring Gary Cooper and the new child star Shirley Temple, and Lady by Choice (1934), which was a critical and commercial success. The Gay Bride (1934) placed her opposite Chester Morris in a gangster comedy, but this outing was panned by critics. After reuniting with George Raft for another dance picture, Rumba (1935), Lombard was given the opportunity to repeat the screwball success of Twentieth Century. In Mitchell Leisen's Hands Across the Table (1935), she portrayed a manicurist in search of a rich husband, played by Fred MacMurray. Critics praised the film, and Photoplay's reviewer stated that Lombard had reaffirmed her talent for the genre. It is remembered as one of her best films, and the pairing of Lombard and MacMurray proved so successful that they made three more pictures together.

Lombard's first film of 1936 was Love Before Breakfast, described by Gehring as "The Taming of the Shrew, screwball style". In William K. Howard's The Princess Comes Across, her second comedy with MacMurray, she played a budding actress who wins a film contract by masquerading as a Swedish princess. The performance was considered a satire of Greta Garbo, and was widely praised by critics. Lombard's success continued as she was recruited by Universal Studios to star in the screwball comedy My Man Godfrey (1936). William Powell, who was playing the eponymous Godfrey, insisted on her being cast as the female lead; despite their divorce, the pair remained friendly and Powell felt she would be perfect in the role of Irene, a zany heiress who employs a "forgotten man" as the family butler. The film was directed by Gregory LaCava, who knew Lombard personally and advised that she draw on her "eccentric nature" for the role. She worked hard on the performance, particularly with finding the appropriate facial expressions for Irene. My Man Godfrey was released to great acclaim and was a box office hit. It received six nominations at the 9th Academy Awards, including Lombard for Best Actress. Biographers cite it as her finest performance, and Frederick Ott says it "clearly established [her] as a comedienne of the first rank."

By 1937, Lombard was one of Hollywood's most popular actresses, and also the highest-paid star in Hollywood following the deal which Myron Selznick negotiated with Paramount that brought her $450,000, more than five times the salary of the U.S. President. As her salary was widely reported in the press, Lombard stated that 80 percent of her earnings went in taxes, but that she was happy to help improve her country. The comments earned her much positive publicity, and President Franklin D. Roosevelt sent her a personal letter of thanks.

Her first release of the year was Leisen's Swing High, Swing Low, a third pairing with MacMurray. The film focused on a romance between two cabaret performers, and was a critical and commercial success. It had been primarily a drama, with occasional moments of comedy, but for her next project, Nothing Sacred, Lombard returned to the screwball genre. Producer David O. Selznick, impressed by her work in My Man Godfrey, was eager to make a comedy with the actress and hired Ben Hecht to write an original screenplay for her. Nothing Sacred, directed by William Wellman and co-starring Fredric March, satirized the journalism industry and "the gullible urban masses". Lombard portrayed a small-town girl who pretends to be dying and finds her story exploited by a New York reporter. Marking her only appearance in Technicolor, the film was highly praised and was one of Lombard's personal favorites.

Lombard continued with screwball comedies, next starring in what Swindell calls one of her "wackiest" films, True Confession (1937). She played a compulsive liar who wrongly confesses to murder. Lombard loved the script and was excited about the project, which reunited her with John Barrymore and was her final appearance with MacMurray. Her prediction that it "smacked of a surefire success" proved accurate, as critics responded positively and it was popular at the box office.

True Confession was the last film Lombard made on her Paramount contract, and she remained an independent performer for the rest of her career. Her next film was made at Warner Bros., where she played a famous actress in Mervyn LeRoy's Fools for Scandal (1938). The comedy met with scathing reviews and was a commercial failure, with Swindell calling it "one of the most horrendous flops of the thirties".

Fools for Scandal was the only film Lombard made in 1938. By this time, she was devoted to a relationship with Clark Gable. Four years after their teaming on No Man of Her Own, the pair had reunited at a Hollywood party and began a romance early in 1936. The media took great interest in their partnership and frequently questioned if they would wed. Gable was separated from his wife, Rhea Langham, but she did not want to grant him a divorce. As his relationship with Lombard became serious, Langham eventually agreed to a settlement worth half a million dollars. The divorce was finalized in March 1939, and Gable and Lombard eloped in Kingman, Arizona, on March 29. The couple, both lovers of the outdoors, bought a 20-acre ranch in Encino, California, where they kept barnyard animals and enjoyed hunting trips. Almost immediately, Lombard wanted to start a family, but her attempts failed; after two miscarriages and numerous trips to fertility specialists, she was unable to have children. In early 1938, Lombard officially joined the Baháʼí Faith, of which her mother had been a member since 1922.

While continuing with a slower work-rate, Lombard decided to move away from comedies and return to dramatic roles. She appeared in a second David O. Selznick production, Made for Each Other (1939), which paired her with James Stewart to play a couple facing domestic difficulties. Reviews for the film were highly positive, and praised Lombard's dramatic effort; financially, it was a disappointment. Lombard's next appearance came opposite Cary Grant in the John Cromwell romance In Name Only (1939), a credit she personally negotiated with RKO Radio Pictures upon hearing of the script and Grant's involvement. The role mirrored her recent experiences, as she played a woman in love with a married man whose wife refuses to divorce. She was paid $150,000 for the film, continuing her status as one of Hollywood's highest-paid actresses, and it was a moderate success.

Lombard was eager to win an Academy Award, and selected her next project—from several possible scripts—with the expectation that it would bring her the trophy. Vigil in the Night (1940), directed by George Stevens, featured Lombard as a nurse who faces a series of personal difficulties. Although the performance was praised, she did not get her nomination, as the sombre mood of the picture turned audiences away and box-office returns were poor. Despite the realization that she was best suited to comedies, Lombard completed one more drama: They Knew What They Wanted (1940), co-starring Charles Laughton, which was mildly successful.

Accepting that "my name doesn't sell tickets to serious pictures", Lombard returned to comedy for the first time in three years to film Mr. & Mrs. Smith (1941), about a couple who learns that their marriage is invalid, with Robert Montgomery. Lombard was influential in bringing Alfred Hitchcock, whom she knew through David O. Selznick, to direct one of his most atypical films. It was a commercial success, as audiences were happy with what Swindell calls "the belated happy news ... that Carole Lombard was a screwball once more."

It was nearly a year before Lombard committed to another film, as she focused instead on her home and marriage. Determined that her next film be "an unqualified smash hit", she was also careful in selecting a new project. Through her agent, Lombard heard of Ernst Lubitsch's upcoming film: To Be or Not to Be (1942), a dark comedy that satirized the Nazi takeover of Poland. The actress had long wanted to work with Lubitsch, her favorite comedy director, and felt that the material—although controversial—was a worthy subject. Lombard accepted the role of actress Maria Tura, despite it being a smaller part than she was used to, and was given top billing over the film's lead, Jack Benny. Filming took place in the fall of 1941, and was reportedly one of the happiest experiences of Lombard's career.

When the U.S. entered World War II at the end of 1941, Lombard traveled to her home state of Indiana for a war bond rally with her mother, Bess Peters, and Clark Gable's press agent, Otto Winkler. Lombard was able to raise over $2 million in defense bonds in a single evening. Her party had initially been scheduled to return to Los Angeles by train, but Lombard was anxious to reach home more quickly and wanted to fly by a scheduled airline. Her mother and Winkler were both afraid of flying and insisted they follow their original travel plans. Lombard suggested they flip a coin; they agreed and Lombard won the toss.

In the early morning hours of January 16, 1942, Lombard, her mother, and Winkler boarded a Transcontinental and Western Air Douglas DST (Douglas Sleeper Transport) aircraft to return to California. After refueling in Las Vegas, TWA Flight 3 took off at 7:07 p.m. and crashed into "Double Up Peak" near the 8,300-foot (2,530 m) level of Potosi Mountain, 32 statute miles (51 km) southwest of the Las Vegas airport. All 22 aboard, including Lombard, her mother, and 15 U.S. Army soldiers, were killed instantly. The cause of the crash was determined to be linked to the pilot and crew's inability to properly navigate over the mountains surrounding Las Vegas. As a precaution against the possibility of enemy Japanese bomber aircraft coming into American airspace from the Pacific, safety beacons used to direct night flights were turned off, leaving the pilot and crew of the TWA flight without visual warnings of the mountains in their flight path. The crash on the mountainside occurred three miles outside of Las Vegas.

Gable was flown to Las Vegas after learning of the tragedy to claim the bodies of his wife, mother-in-law, and Winkler, who aside from being his press agent, had been a close friend. Lombard's funeral was January 21 at Forest Lawn Memorial Park Cemetery in Glendale, California. She was interred beside her mother under the name of Carole Lombard Gable. Despite remarrying twice following her death, Gable chose to be interred beside Lombard when he died in 1960.

Lombard's final film, To Be or Not to Be, directed by Ernst Lubitsch and co-starring Jack Benny, a satire about Nazism and World War II, was in post-production at the time of her death. The film's producers decided to cut part of the film in which Lombard's character asks, "What can happen on a plane?" out of respect for the circumstances surrounding her death. When the film was released, it received mixed reviews, particularly about its controversial content, but Lombard's performance was hailed as the perfect send-off to one of 1930s Hollywood's most important stars.

At the time of her death, Lombard had been scheduled to star in the film They All Kissed the Bride; when production started, she was replaced by Joan Crawford. Crawford donated all of her salary for the film to the Red Cross, which had helped extensively in the recovery of bodies from the air crash. Shortly after Lombard's death, Gable, who was inconsolable and devastated by his loss, joined the United States Army Air Forces. Lombard had asked him to do that numerous times after the United States had entered World War II. After officer training, Gable headed a six-man motion picture unit attached to a B-17 bomb group in England to film aerial gunners in combat, flying five missions himself. In December 1943, the United States Maritime Commission announced that a Liberty ship named after Carole Lombard would be launched. Gable attended the launch of the SS Carole Lombard on January 15, 1944, the two-year anniversary of Lombard's record-breaking war bond drive. The ship was involved in rescuing hundreds of survivors from sunken ships in the Pacific and returning them to safety.

In 1962, Jill Winkler Rath, widow of publicist Otto Winkler, filed a $100,000 lawsuit against the $2,000,000 estate of Clark Gable in connection with Winkler's death in the plane crash with Carole Lombard. The suit was dismissed in Los Angeles Superior Court. Rath, in her action, claimed Gable promised to provide financial aid for her if she would not bring suit against the airline involved. Rath stated she later learned that Gable settled his claim against the airline for $10. He did so because he did not want to repeat his grief in court and subsequently provided her no financial aid in his will.

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ambistep · 4 years

Text

Presser

After the events at Los Diablos Air Force Base, a press conference is held. The new special liaison faces a tough crowd.

~1900 words, Retribution Spoilers, mind control and no proof-reading, sorry~

“You have to go out there. They asked for you by name,” Wei Chen looks up at the security feed from the press room - seats filling, guards posted - LDPD in tactical gear. Nobody’s called a state of emergency, not yet - but you can’t tell from the look of things. “You’ve done a hundred of these things, what’s the problem, Ortega?” He didn’t have to ask - but he wants to hear her say it.

“Bad enough coming to these things when we’re winning. We just got our asses kicked, Chen, we should be out there, kicking over every bolthole and abandoned building.” Ortega had let the makeup team touch up her bruises - not like her at all - but they had been ugly, and this whole conference was about putting a pretty face forward.

“Nobody was killed. We stopped the missile,” Chen points out. He doesn’t disagree, it was a loss, but he was trying to get Julia to work with him.

“After it launched,” Ortega counters, “And Clarity and their goons got away with the arms.” And… everything was different about this one. Old, Clarity had called her, goading, warning her to stay down. Cracked her ribs this time - the suit was a piece of work - nothing Charge shouldn’t be able to handle but Clarity had her number. The villain had been warning her - not goading her, like most villains try, not boasting. A real warning, something that seemed sincere - which meant they didn’t think of the Rangers as the enemy, maybe even the opposite, and that worried her more than anything.

Steel’s furrowed brow deepens, confessing his suspicions “We were meant to stop it - Clarity knew we would. It wasn’t a heist, it was a message.”

“A message, great.” Julia throws a hand up, “Where’s Angie, anyway? Should make her stand up on this stage. She’s the Clarity expert.”

He knows Ortega isn’t serious - both of them know better than to push Lady Argent in front of cameras in an official setting. Something down at your own peril. “Recovering,” Chen quickly clarifies, “Not hurt - just her pride - you know how she is when she loses.”

Julia rubs at the side of her face, then stops - remembering the makeup. The headache persists, “Chen, why does it feel like we’ve lost control of the whole thing? Los Diablos used to be our city.”

The current Marshal struggles for an answer - but before he can find one, an aide to Mayor Alvarez, waiting in the wings, gives a saccharine smile and a wave to him, flashing an okay sign.

Chen sighs, “We’re on.”

The briefing room is packed tight - not meant to hold this much press, this much extra security, and the extra personnel from the cooperating agencies. The whole room is hot, crowded, tinged with anxiety. The press is feisty, out for blood, but Alvarez and Miller, for the city and the police respectively, do solid work fielding the questions with non-answers, assurances. Everything is under control. The Marshal and ex-Marshal stand in reserve, a show of support and cooperation from all corners - or scapegoat if needed.

“Next question, Miss Ochoa?”

“Major Miller, with this escalation, shouldn’t we be expecting a federal response? It was a military target, after all.”

Joshua Miller’s smile tightens - nobody in Los Diablos likes to talk about the federal government in their city, as a point of pride. “Actually, we’ve -”

“I can answer this one,” A cool voice from the back of the stage cuts the major off in his remark. A blonde woman just past her middle years, in an immaculate suit, a federal suit. Standing there, like an ordinary human being, a regular person. Smiling that smile, a smile that promises efficiency, structure, discipline. That compliance will be rewarded. A burning effigy, a symbol, a -... or just a woman, in a suit - like anyone else in the room.

Miller nods and turns back to the audience, introducing his guest for the press, “Ladies and gentlemen, Regina King, Deputy Director for Developmental Test and Evaluation, Department of Defense.”

She rises to the podium, taking Miller’s place and adjusting the microphone height to suit her - she’s shorter than her air makes her seem. “To answer your question, Miss Ochoa, I’ve been sent to act as Special Liaison in this matter, only to monitor the situation while making sure Mayor Alvarez, Marshal Steel and local authorities receive whatever cooperation and resources they need in combating… lawlessness and terrorism here in the Free Economic Zone.”

The real message is hidden behind her teeth and eyes. We are watching. We are here to support our interests. We will aid you until you fail, and then it is our matter.

There is quiet, Alvarez and Miller, even Chen, watching their new special liaison with wary suspicion. Mia breaks the silence with a follow-up, “What’s the federal government’s interests here? National security? My reporting has shown a number of defense contractors were targets of this Clari-”

The woman doesn’t miss a step, cutting off the reporter before that name can be mentioned, “At the Department of Defense, all our interests are security.” A winning smile, that bland humor, doesn’t hide the irritation. She hates to submit to questions, from civilians. The contempt is beneath the surface, but someone who knows her could smell it. “A number of defense contractors have been targets of recent violence within this city and the surrounding areas - and the well-being of our private partners is a matter of serious concern. I’ll be coordinating responses between all parties involved, of course.”

There’s a laugh, unexpected and inappropriate, cutting through the tension of the briefing. The Rangers present stand a little straighter, all the security detail starts forward. The cameras shift from the podium to the source in the crowd, a reporter many years Mia’s junior, with a face for television. She rises in her seat, and Mayor Alvarez identifies the reporter for the momentarily uncertain Director King, “Veronica Sandoval, KTLD News.”

Veronica steps from her assigned seat, holding her microphone - everyone relaxes but for the Rangers. The reporter calls out, “What about the target of the missile launched yesterday?” She starts to walk toward the stage, something uneven in her steps, something unsteady in her voice.

The KTLD camera man follows his reporter dutifully, even as Regina fields the question, her easy smile fading for an angered one, a polite, forced smile. “At this time, the circumstances of yesterday’s incident at Los Diablos Air Force Base are still being investigated through regular channels - when they have that information, I’m sure a report will be made available to all members of the press.”

Sandoval continues to move toward the stage, intercepted by an LDPD officer holding out a hand, “Is it true that another facility was targeted, a non-military facility, one of your ‘private-public partnerships’, one south of Warm Springs, Nevada?”

“I’m not sure which facility you mean.” The Deputy Director’s smile is gone entirely, a sour frown fixed to her face. Around her, the briefing room is filled with murmurs and clicking of cameras. Mayor Alvarez is looking to her aides for assistance, and Joshua Miller is quietly sweating as his officers move to restrain the reporter.

The KTLD camera man calls out, now more worried than concerned with holding the camera, “Roni, what’s gotten into yo-”

But she pays him no mind, calling out her accusations, “You know. You know, and I’m sure they would like to know too. You should tell them. Tell them what you do there!” Sandoval clings tightly to the microphone as a second and then a third officer moves to grab her and twist her arm. She fights with the officers even as gasps and panic sweep through the briefing room. Marshal Steel moves to cover Alvarez, and Charge steps up to stand before the Deputy Director.

The strength seems to slip out of Veronica Sandoval, a pained groan before she passes out entirely. And then behind, a quivering cry from Joshua Miller as he rises from his seat, the LDPD Major’s eyes wide open in horror as his body seems to move beyond his control. He pushes Alvarez from the podium - Steel catching her before she falls. The rest of the cops of the security detail start forward.

“What’s wrong with the major?”

“Sir?”

Miller’s eyes calm, his motions smooth, and he leans to the microphone, his voice taking on the same accusatory cadence as Sandoval’s, that same fury fills his eyes. “Tell them what you make there. Let them all see what you really are. I can see it crawling underneath your skin, Deputy Director.” Joshua Miller’s mouth hisses the strange words forced out of him with, “I tried to avoid this - I didn’t want to be involved in your world anymore. So now you’ll have to show them everything. Let them kno-”

Wei Chen’s prosthetic grip puts an end to the major’s rant, a squeeze and punch to the gut from the marshal and Miller slips into unconsciousness, as Sandoval did.

“Start EMS!”

“Get everyone out of here!”

A gunshot coaxes the murmurs of the press room into a symphony of cries.

One of the officers that had restrained Sandoval rises up, a fresh-faced LDPD patrolman, and turns to face the podiums now, a calm passing over him, then an anger twisting his face. His hand loosely holds his sidearm, discharged at the ground, “Let them know everything. Why not? Aren’t you proud of the monsters you’ve made? Aren’t you proud of me?”

Other offices are drawing their weapons now, pointing them at their colleague - panic has reached a fever pitch, but the cameras still roll. Across the city, it must be quite a show - in diners and offices, on city streets, all across every screen.

“It took a lot of work, but I’ve finally brought you here.” A manic smile fixes to the officer’s face as he unholsters his gun, “Welcome to Los Diablos, Regina King. Welcome to my city.” He levels it at the deputy director, possessed in all meanings of the word, out of his mind.

…

There is a hint of panic in her eyes when the gun is drawn, and if nothing else of your plan ever goes right again, then that fear in Regina’s eyes may be enough to make everything else worth it. You wish you were watching through your own eyes, and not this stranger’s - it isn’t the same, you can’t quite taste the fear, as you imagine you could with your own body.

But then her expression hardens. She reaches inside the coat of the bodyguard shielding her and pulls out a handgun and promptly levels it at the back of Julia Ortega’s head, finger on the trigger. Hot, boiling panic rises in you - in your own body, but this puppet’s too.

She says nothing but holds the gun with unsettling stillness, even as a bewildered Charge turns to face her, “What the hell?!”

But the director doesn’t have to explain. The message is clear. She knows who is pulling these strings, and she still knows how to hurt you. Just like always.

You begin to loosen your control of the officer, forcing words through the officer’s lips as you let him lower his gun. “Careful,” the man’s voice, your words, “Your mask is slipping, Regina. They’ll see you for what you are.”

Around the briefing room, amid the panic, the cameras still hold on the strange stand-off between the cop, the Special Liaison, and the hero Charge. Regina starts to lower the gun she holds, even as you slip out of this man’s mind, leaving the chaos behind, and back to your own thoughts.

All part of the plan, right?

#fhr #fallen hero: rebirth #retribution spoilers #scribbly #bluh i havent made anything in ages...#sidestep #regina #mina oh

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differentworlds-fiction · 5 years

Text

30 (Part II)

TARIN

While shrouded in darkness, my lips went in search of his.

Contentment coursed through me when the smooth, plump flesh of his lips pressed to mine. The corners of my mouth hiked up, producing a meager grin as Hill nibbled and sucked on the fullness of my bottom lip. In an instant, I was rendered breathless, while, internally minimizing the dreaded moment Hill pulled away to rest back onto the herd of pillows, all at the same time.

In an effort to lessen the bit of space between us, I settled against him.

Words were failed to be exchanged as we delighted in the quelling silence pervading the suite. Nothing but the barest hints of his even breaths sweeping past his lips were heard when he pulled me close and sluggishly guided my head onto his damp chest. As our bodies remained sparingly covered by the wrinkled sheets Hill had enveloped us both in subsequent to his return from the ensuite, our fervent hands set into motion, exploring depths we’d just previously worked up the courage to touch; areas in which I hadn’t had the gall to roam on another individual in years.

Hill’s calloused hand moved toward my navel, inciting me to release a hollow noise that sounded more like a timid moan than a muffled breath.

The roughness of his fingertips teased me throughout the instinctive parting of my weakened limbs.

“You were my first,” my confession came out in a dreary sputter, “...in a really long time.”

Upon hearing my admission, his eager hand ceased from moving another inch; the pad of his fingers halted at the junction between my thighs.

“How long?” He prodded.

I gulped, and he snickered when hearing my long, audible swallow.

“Damn, Tarin. That long?”

“Before you, I used to dodge men like the plague.” I divulged, nibbling on the corner of my bottom lip. “It would be easier to base my actions solely on the fact that I’m a parent who has to be super critical of the people I engage with. And while that may be true, I had no desire to involve myself with anyone. Not sexually. Not emotionally, either. Up until recently, I realized my kid wasn’t the reason for me not wanting to date or to allow myself to get to know someone. I was.”

“Why?” Hill queried.

He shifted and maneuvered my frame on top of his.

“My heart still belonged to someone else, Hill.”

For a moment nothing but the sound of his breaths sweeping past his parted lips were heard.

“Ayla’s father.”

“Ayla’s father,” I confirmed barely above a whisper, “-- my love for him hasn’t minimized, after all these years. I’m not sure it ever will. If anything, it’s manifested into something I’m not sure I can even make sense of.” I pulled my bottom lip into my mouth and released it seconds afterward while further ruminating on my sentiments. “I think it’s unhealthy; carrying on that way -- the way that I have. Grieving prevented me from possibly developing relationships with men. I was scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Bearing another loss. Maybe even dealing with a little rejection, too. We’re all somewhat fearful of that, aren’t we?”

He moved a bit, guiding my tautened body coated with sweat along with him.

Hints of the earthy musk he sported wafted into my nose with every subtle shift we produced together. And soon, it resonated that the scent was as potent on me and the sheets we were encompassed by as it was on his skin. “To an extent, yes. It comes in different forms, under different circumstances. But, we have to deal with it in some capacity since it’s pretty much inevitable.”

I couldn’t see his expression nor fully make out his face, albeit, I lifted my head anyway and brought forth my hand that once idled below his waist.

Subsequent to resting my palm against his cheek collected with minimal scruff, Hill released an exasperated breath.

Within seconds, his hand latched onto my wrist and prevented me from moving it any further.

“My way of dealing with the loss wasn’t the healthiest, for me or anyone in my life for that matter. I’ve mourned in waves that have spanned over the course of several years.” I muttered, my voice hoarse. “And for that reason alone, getting close to someone has been pretty much an afterthought.” I rambled, releasing a hearty sigh while tugging the duvet over us both. “I wasn’t ready to put myself out there again. Maybe I was guarded and protecting myself from experiencing another heartache.” I admitted barely above a whisper. “The possibility of somebody else making an abrupt departure out of my life at any moment petrified me.”

“It still does. I can tell.”

“Of course.” I retorted. “I need to work on that though. I have to accept that there will be people who’ll not only enter my life but possibly leave for whatever reason.” A timid scoff swept past my bare lips upon further pondering on my words. “You’d think I’d be well versed in handling all that by now.”

My utterance was met with a prolonged lull; a silence that I begrudgingly chose to sustain due to my reluctance of being the first to speak.

Only briefly did my head remain planted atop his chest as it evenly rose and collapsed.

In the recesses of my mind, I couldn’t help but feel burdened by a sudden onset of apprehension -- worry that my recent romp in the sheets with Hill Dawson was nothing more than an impulsive act that would be going nowhere fast and he too would leave.

Under other circumstances, of course.

Pulling me out of those disparaging thoughts was the image of Hill standing by the door of my office, equipped with flowers in one hand and breakfast in the other. The mere memory of him flying across the country on a whim prompted me to lower my head back onto him.

I smiled meagerly against his skin and trailed over the spot on his chest riddled with bold, indelible markings I’d soon be able to examine once day broke over Nevada.

The hand that had previously remained enclosed around my wrist began to toy with my tendrils that were once woven into bountiful braids, lightly tugging them by the ends and allowing the shaft to straighten from the formed crimp they had been manipulated into. Fighting the incessant urge to give in and allow sleep to finally pervade me, I pursed my lips together and kissed his open palm; his fingers weakened against the timid peck.

The subtle gesture prompted Hill to stop toying with my hair altogether and caress my cheek instead, brushing over the embankment of my lips in light strokes.

“It’s been days since I’ve dreamed about him.” I whispered and tucked a lone strand behind my ear, “and, I’m not sure what to make of that. Usually, he visits me often. Some dreams are far more intense than others. Sometimes, I’m left dealing with a mix of emotions. Other times I wake up and just cry because I have to constantly relive that summer he left me all over again.”

“I remember you telling me about the last one you had...” He murmured. His palm continued to graze my cheek, swiping it in smooth motions that threatened to lull me to sleep. “You mentioned how different it was from the others ones you’ve had before. The communication between the two of you felt rushed, you said.”

“Yeah.”

The onslaught of nerves that happened to settle and resurge throughout the duration of the day had made its timely revival yet again.

This time they hadn’t stemmed from me pacing the bathroom of McCarran International minutes after hurrying from the jet bridge, nor was it the same flutter I felt in the pit of my stomach that rapidly developed the moment I wandered the halls of the hotel beside Bria Dawson in search of her brother’s room.

My current case of butterflies flourished subsequently to hearing him recount what I had divulged previously.

“In your dream, you called after him and that he kept walkin’ away. He left you standing by some house and headed in the direction of this corner store...without you.” Hill spoke in a low, almost hushed tone. After a few beats of silence, he shifted upward and spoke, “Do you know what that sounds like to me.”

“What?”

Subsequent to my inquiry, Hill guided my leg to drape over his.

With this tip of my finger, I trailed over the crook of his neck.

“That,” he paused to let out a deep breath and exhaled, “that sounds like closure, baby.”

***

Among the concise follow-up reporting of salacious happenings that had taken place over the weekend, and the recycled human-interest stories emblazoned by differentiating headlines, news of the Pratts’ over-elaborate nuptials infiltrated the news cycle. Throngs of bloggers took to their respective platforms to publish the cellphone images of the reception held at the Plaza Hotel from an anonymous source, while other credible pop culture pundits covered the lavish affair by citing guests’ recounts of the star-studded ceremony and reception.

While chewing the last pieces of my breakfast sandwich within the confines of the CS conference room, I perused the uploaded entries as they emerged by the dozens onto my social media feed, falling in awe of the glimpses of Mya Evans -- presently known as Mya Pratt -- clad in her gown, celebrating her union amongst the reported fashionable ‘it’ girls of the moment who were simply famous for reasons uncertain, famed recording artists, and industry executives who attended. As stated by various ‘close sources’, the Pratt wedding occurred without incident and was being prematurely considered to be the wedding of summer.

By the time I perused through the assortment of shotty pictures, I hadn’t noticed Cara nor Cheyenne take their seats at the table.

“Care to share what you’re so immersed with this fine morning?” Cara queried. The question prompted me to tear my eyes away from the phone screen.

“Nothing,” I retorted, “-- just these low-quality pictures from the Pratt wedding. Great job, by the way. From what I was able to see, you did well.” I added and offered a meager grin. “Another Cara Santos wedding for the books.”

At that, she too smiled and reached for the bottle of Fiji water set before her. I proceeded to engage in small talk with Cheyenne briefly, exchanging silly speculations of where the newlyweds were heading for their honeymoon.

How was Vegas?” Cara interrupted. Over the bottled water’s rim, the tiniest hint of a smirk played about her lips, threatening to broaden into a full-blown grin. Cara’s mouth settled, however, when she finished taking generous sips and placed the bottle beside a pile of papers she’d brought into the conference room and the leather-bound daily planner she toted everywhere she went. “This morning, I was scrolling through Page Six and saw you with the boxer,” Cara muttered, dragging out the reference of Hill in a peculiar way. Her neatly arched eyebrow rose, assessing the poker-face I maintained.

Quickly, she stood and removed her smartphone from her pants’ pocket, and reclaimed her seat at the end of the conference table before darting her eyes towards a confused Cheyenne.

For what felt like an eternity as opposed to mere seconds, I sat through the painfully awkward silence and made eye contact with Cheyenne a total of three times before Cara decided to put me out of my misery.

Sporting the same smug grimace, the encased cellphone around to unveil a clear snapshot taken outside of the MGM Grand Hotel. The image of Hill and I sharing an embrace while surrounded by suited security personnel idled the screen.

“Vegas,” I cleared my throat and averted my stare elsewhere, “Vegas was...alright.”

Fine furrows grooved along her forehead as her eyebrows knitted together. “I thought you were meeting with the singer this weekend, no?”

“Haneef and I met Friday afternoon after I left the office. I could’ve sworn we ran into each other on my way out and I told you that I wouldn’t be coming back for the rest of the day.” I aimlessly shuffled through the papers pertaining to a curated menu for a last minute celebratory brunch event she needed assistance with. Glancing downward at the list of pretentious dishes prepared by an executive chef Cara had reached out to personally seemed to hold more of my interest than attempting to continuing the conversation. Cara Santos was, in fact, teetering on the bounds of simple small talk and baiting me to discuss my personal business. “I plan on meeting with Haneef Parker again soon.” I remarked.

Yesterday, the R&B crooner departed to Miami to kick off his four-city tour. To further promote his forthcoming album and garner a bit of buzz surrounding his comeback, it had been rumored that Haneef and his team had put the last minute tour together for major cities his shows received the most revenue. Via an email sent to me by a member of Haneef’s management team, the singer would be returning to New York later in the week and planned to meet then. In an effort to make some headway with the planning of the baby shower, I sent photos of two potential venues to the private email Haneef himself provided prior to leaving the studio last Friday.

“Great...” Cara said before sifting through the small stack of papers resting before her.

Our morning followed with Cheyenne briefing us both on our separate schedules for the remainder of the week, as well as meetings pertaining the joined effort Cara and I were working on together.

“Notify the executive chef about the curated menu. And if that’s all Cheyenne, then we could get a move on it and…”

Eyes belonging to Cara peered longingly out toward the foyer.

Through the massive glass wall separating the conference room from the general area, a lone man stood, clad in a khaki uniform and matching hat. Cara’s eyes narrowed further, her scanty palms cupped the conference table’s sleek ridge.

“...Either of you expecting a delivery?”

Cheyenne sat forward, twiddling the ballpoint pen between her forefinger and thumb. “No.”

Their stares shifted in my direction.

“I’m not.” I said.

Cara glanced at Cheyenne, nodding in the direction of the receptionist area.

Without uttering another word Cheyenne departed swiftly from the room and returned just seconds later.

“The delivery is for you, Tarin. Don’t worry, I signed off on it for you already.”

I stuffed my phone into my jeans pocket, a peculiar glare etched its way across my face when I looked out toward the foyer just as the elevator doors parted; a team of men -- five in total -- stepped off the elevator, each of them carrying roses enclosed with purple wrapping paper and white bows. Lifting her hand, Cheyenne pointed in the direction of my office and, immediately, I rose from the conference table and gaited behind them in quick strides.

Floral arrangements comprised of vibrant red roses were placed around the room; on the end tables separating the two wingback chairs by the windows, on my desk between scattered papers and photos of Ayla, and, on the console table closest to the door. My fingers grazed the blooming petals; the softness of them brought a smile to my face; one that I couldn’t disguise in an attempt to conceal my slight embarrassment for the affectionate gesture. My bottom lip embedded itself between my teeth as I brought my hand and reached for one of the delivery men who’d failed to keep up with the others who were already ambling back down the hall.

“If you’ll stick around for just a sec, I’d be happy to give you guys a tip. Um, maybe you can call them back in here for me…”

I started towards my desk and felt a hand lightly tug at my forearm.

“Ma’am, that won’t be necessary.” The delivery guy expressed, sticking his hands into the khaki pants he wore. “Our tips were covered beforehand.” He explained prior to exiting the office subsequent to Cheyenne entering with Cara following closely behind. “Have a nice day.”

“...Thanks, you too.”

Upon the man’s departure, I rushed toward the stark white office desk and began removing the lavender wrapping paper from the bottom of the floral arrangement; the familiar fluttering manifested deep at the pit of my stomach, bringing me to pause altogether and clutch my stomach firmly once I discovered a small note card peeking between the roses. Heaving a sigh, I resumed with unveiling the vase and firmly grasped the card.

“The boxer?” Cheyenne inquired.

I bashfully confirmed with a hesitant head nod, allowing my stare to drift toward the floor as I twiddled with the notecard seconds before reading it.

I’ll be in town Sunday. Hope to see you then, beautiful.

-Hill

“Hmph,” Cara muttered and turned in the direction of the hallway, “how romantic...”

#Different Worlds #Different Worlds Fiction #Fiction

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gordonwilliamsweb · 3 years

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After Kid’s Minor Bike Accident, Major Bill Sets Legal Wheels in Motion

Adam Woodrum was out for a bike ride with his wife and kids on July 19 when his then 9-year-old son, Robert, crashed.

“He cut himself pretty bad, and I could tell right away he needed stitches,” said Woodrum.

This story also ran on NPR. It can be republished for free.

Because they were on bikes, he called the fire department in Carson City, Nevada.

“They were great,” said Woodrum. “They took him on a stretcher to the ER.”

Robert received stitches and anesthesia at Carson Tahoe Regional Medical Center. He’s since recovered nicely.

Then the denial letter came.

The Patient: Robert Woodrum, covered under his mother’s health insurance plan from the Nevada Public Employees’ Benefits Program

Total Bill: $18,933.44, billed by the hospital

Service Provider: Carson Tahoe Regional Medical Center, part of not-for-profit Carson Tahoe Health

Medical Service: Stitches and anesthesia during an emergency department visit

What Gives: The Aug. 4 explanation of benefits (EOB) document said the Woodrum’s claim had been rejected and their patient responsibility would be the entire sum of $18,933.44.

This case involves an all-too-frequent dance between different types of insurers about which one should pay a patient’s bill if an accident is involved. All sides do their best to avoid paying. And, no surprise to Bill of the Month followers: When insurers can’t agree, who gets a scary bill? The patient.

The legal name for the process of determining which type of insurance is primarily responsible is subrogation.

Could another policy — say, auto or home coverage or workers’ compensation — be obligated to pay if someone was at fault for the accident?

Subrogation is an area of law that allows an insurer to recoup expenses should a third party be found responsible for the injury or damage in question.

Health insurers say subrogation helps hold down premiums by reimbursing them for their medical costs.

About two weeks after the accident, Robert’s parents — both lawyers — got the EOB informing them of the insurer’s decision.

The note also directed questions to Luper Neidenthal & Logan, a law firm in Columbus, Ohio, that specializes in helping insurers recover medical costs from “third parties,” meaning people found at fault for causing injuries.

The firm’s website boasts that “we collect over 98% of recoverable dollars for the State of Nevada.”

Another letter also dated Aug. 4 soon arrived from HealthScope Benefits, a large administrative firm that processes claims for health plans.

The claim, it said, included billing codes for care “commonly used to treat injuries” related to vehicle crashes, slip-and-fall accidents or workplace hazards. Underlined for emphasis, one sentence warned that the denied claim would not be reconsidered until an enclosed accident questionnaire was filled out.

Adam Woodrum, who happens to be a personal injury attorney, runs into subrogation all the time representing his clients, many of whom have been in car accidents. But it still came as a shock, he said, to have his health insurer deny payment because there was no third party responsible for their son’s ordinary bike accident. And the denial came before the insurer got information about whether someone else was at fault.

“It’s like deny now and pay later,” he said. “You have insurance and pay for years, then they say, ‘This is denied across the board. Here’s your $18,000 bill.’”

When contacted, the Public Employees’ Benefits Program in Nevada would not comment specifically on Woodrum’s situation, but a spokesperson sent information from its health plan documents. She referred questions to HealthScope Benefits about whether the program’s policy is to deny claims first, then seek more information. The Little Rock, Arkansas-based firm did not return emails asking for comment.

The Nevada health plan’s documents say state legislation allows the program to recover “any and all payments made by the Plan” for the injury “from the other person or from any judgment, verdict or settlement obtained by the participant in relation to the injury.”

Attorney Matthew Anderson at the law firm that handles subrogation for the Nevada health plan said he could not speak on behalf of the state of Nevada, nor could he comment directly on Woodrum’s situation. However, he said his insurance industry clients use subrogation to recoup payments from other insurers “as a cost-saving measure,” because “they don’t want to pass on high premiums to members.”

Despite consumers’ unfamiliarity with the term, subrogation is common in the health insurance industry, said Leslie Wiernik, CEO of the National Association of Subrogation Professionals, the industry’s trade association.

“Let’s say a young person falls off a bike,” she said, “but the insurer was thinking, ‘Did someone run him off the road, or did he hit a pothole the city didn’t fill?’”

Statistics on how much money health insurers recover through passing the buck to other insurers are hard to find. A 2013 Deloitte consulting firm study, commissioned by the Department of Labor, estimated that subrogation helped private health plans recover between $1.7 billion and $2.5 billion in 2010 — a tiny slice of the $849 billion they spent that year.

Medical providers may have reason to hope that bills will be sent through auto or homeowner’s coverage, rather than health insurance, as they’re likely to get paid more.

That’s because auto insurers “are going to pay billed charges, which are highly inflated,” said attorney Ryan Woody, who specializes in subrogation. Health insurers, by contrast, have networks of doctors and hospitals with whom they negotiate lower payment rates.

Resolution: Because of his experience as an attorney, Woodrum felt confident it would eventually all work out. But the average patient wouldn’t understand the legal quagmire and might not know how to fight back.

“I hear the horror stories every day from people who don’t know what it is, are confused by it and don’t take appropriate action,” Woodrum said. “Then they’re a year out with no payment on their bills.” Or, fearing for their credit, they pay the bills.

After receiving the accident questionnaire, Woodrum filled it out and sent it back. There was no liable third party, he said. No driver was at fault.

His child just fell off his bicycle.

HealthScope Benefits reconsidered the claim. It was paid in September, two months after the accident. The hospital received less than half of what it originally billed, based on rates negotiated through his health plan.

The insurer paid $7,414.76 of the cost, and the Woodrums owed $1,853.45, which represented their share of the deductibles and copays.

The Takeaway: The mantra of Bill of the Month is don’t just write the check. But also don’t ignore scary bills from insurers or hospitals.

It’s not uncommon for insured patients to be questioned on whether their injury or medical condition might have been related to an accident. On some claim forms, there is even a box for the patient to check if it was an accident.

But in the Woodrums’ case, as in others, it was an automatic process. The insurer denied the claim based solely on the medical code indicating a possible accident.

If an insurer denies all payment for all medical care related to an injury, suspect that some type of subrogation is at work.

Don’t panic.

If you get an accident questionnaire, “fill it out, be honest about what happened,” said Sean Domnick, secretary of the American Association for Justice, an organization of plaintiffs lawyers. Inform your insurer and all other parties of the actual circumstances of the injury.

And do so promptly.

That’s because the clock starts ticking the day the medical care is provided and policyholders may face a statutory or contractual requirement that medical bills be submitted within a specific time frame, which can vary.

“Do not ignore it,” said Domnick. “Time and delay can be your enemy.”

Bill of the Month is a crowdsourced investigation by KHN and NPR that dissects and explains medical bills. Do you have an interesting medical bill you want to share with us? Tell us about it!

Kaiser Health News (KHN) is a national health policy news service. It is an editorially independent program of the Henry J. Kaiser Family Foundation which is not affiliated with Kaiser Permanente.

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stephenmccull · 3 years

Text

After Kid’s Minor Bike Accident, Major Bill Sets Legal Wheels in Motion

Adam Woodrum was out for a bike ride with his wife and kids on July 19 when his then 9-year-old son, Robert, crashed.

“He cut himself pretty bad, and I could tell right away he needed stitches,” said Woodrum.