#I’ll check again on general sale for Friday

[waugh-bao]

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[puckngrind]

What’s In a Name: 12 - J. Toews

Chapter 12.

Where we left off: Bekah settles into life in Chicago as Jon starts off the season which proves to be a rocky one including the firing of his coach.

Warnings: smut, language

Word Count: 3,532

Series Masterlist ) Puck ‘n Grind’s masterlist

Losing.

Jon was an uptight ball of stress and the added coaching change didn’t help matters. He even tried to convince his own father not to come for the dad’s trip. “Why would he want to see us get our asses handed to us even if it means playing a round of golf?” Jon huffs out as Bekah tries to convince him to settle down.

“Maybe a few days with your dads will help the guys and you?” Bekah braces herself expecting Jon to argue.  He just looked at her and took his aggression out on the kitchen cabinet that made Bekah jump.

While the team didn’t win on the road with their fathers the next home game thankfully brought a win for the new coach, Jeremy. Jon’s demeanor didn’t change much even with the two wins at home and prepared to head out for a Thanksgiving road trip. The night before leaving and Bekah was to fly to Columbus, she laid in bed wide awake while Jon kept tossing and turning. “Maybe I should stay in Columbus longer than the road trip?” She whispered to herself.

“Why?” Jon groans and pulls Bekah back into his chest.

“I thought you were asleep.” She snuggles into him.

“Why do you think you should stay in Columbus longer?” Jon’s voice was low and gravely.

“Maybe I’m a distraction. Reason you aren’t focused, just like last season?” Her voice barely above a whisper.

“Rebekah!” Jon almost shouts in the quiet of the night. “Are you fucking serious? You think how the team is playing is because you live here now?” Bekah just nods into his bare chest as he runs his fingers through her hair. “Well it has nothing to do with you. I’m so thankful you are here. You know that right?” Jon kisses the top of her head.

“But Tae...”  Bekah starts to counter his point.

“But nothing. Go home like planned. Enjoy Thanksgiving with your family but don’t stay because you think it’s better for my career. Okay?”

“Yeah.” There was more in her voice and Jon caught it.

“What’s that mean? Yeah. There was more there.” Jon questions.

“It’s me that’s all.” Bekah shifts in his arms.

“What is it Beks? Talk.” Jon’s voice was laced with concern.

“You still want me? Here and well, in general?” Bekah’s voice breaks with allowing her internal thoughts loose.

“Of course! I love you.” Jon pulls Bekah’s chin up so he can look into her eyes. “I want you here. I want you.” Bekah closes her eyes. “Babe. What is going on?”

“It is stupid. I know this, but we haven’t had sex since before your dad’s trip. I know you have been stressed but I keep thinking maybe you... I don’t know. Maybe you think this is a mistake.” Bekah covers her eyes with her hand and hears Jon’s breathing change.

“No, I’m just a fucking idiot.” Jon moves their bodies so he’s laying on top of Bekah. “Finally telling you I love you and you moving here have been the best things that have happened to me this year and ever really. And clearly my stress of the season not going well and a new coach has taken a toll on our sex life.” He kisses her softly.

“I didn’t tell you that so you would have pity sex with me you know? I was just being honest.” She feels Jon harden between their bodies.

“I know and sex with you is never pity sex. Now not having sex is all I’m gonna think about until I rectify the situation. Just take this as my apology, m’kay?” Jon’s lips slide from her lips to her neck. His fingers slide his shirt off her body. Bekah’s body flinches. “I really am sorry, Baby. I hope you know how beautiful you are. How much I appreciate you? How madly I love with all of you?” He kisses down her body feeling her relax under his touch. “All this is new to me too, you know?” Jon kisses her stomach and looks up to see Bekah’s eyes glued shut. “Someone living with me, especially during the season. It’s new territory. I need to learn to balance hockey and you.” Jon shifts between her legs and Bekah starts to talk but moans in reaction to Jon’s gentle kiss to her core.

“Tae.” Bekah whimpers grabbing hold of the pillow under her head as Jon licks through her folds. “Tae!” Bekah moans out again.

“Let me take care of you.” Jon kisses her clit and starts pressing his tongue into her. She whimpers from the touch.

“Up here. Please.” Bekah almost begs stopping Jon’s actions. He slides his body back up hers kissing her skin with each move. He finally makes his way back up to her face is hovering over her.

“I love you, Beks. You know that, yes?” Jon pulls his face away from hers.

“Yes, I love you too.” Bekah wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him down so their lips crash into each other. Jon pulls away slightly to shift his hips over hers and slides deep inside. Bekah feels the familiar stretch and Jon’s lips desperately attach to her own. His actions slow and intentional. Bekah’s body wrapped tightly around his. Jon whispering affirmations of his love just intensify the orgasm that crashes over her body as he releases his own. Both panting when Jon positions their bodies so he can wrap his arms and legs around her. “I really am sorry, Beks.” He kisses her temple.

“I’m sorry too. We are learning together.” Bekah kisses his chest. “Now let’s get some sleep before we both have to get on planes tomorrow.”

“I wish we could do your Thanksgiving together eventually but I’m glad you are going home.” Jon admits.

“We sorta have, Tae. Remember when you were hurt? That was Thanksgiving weekend.” Bekah remembers her feelings of jumping on the plane to be with him.

“Oh, how could I forget? It’s the trip I realized I was falling hard for you. You coming to take care of me. The way we did couple things that weren’t just sex... yeah. I saw a glimpse of what life with you in it would be like.” Jon’s admission made Bekah’s body break out on goosebumps.

“I fought it hard but that trip was a turning point for me too, Tae.” Bekah yawns.

“Let’s sleep, my love.” Jon runs his fingers down Bekah’s spine.

“Yes. Sleep, mon amour.” Bekah’s voice becomes softer as she falls asleep on Jon’s chest.

Thanksgiving with her family was pretty much the same except the never ending line of questions about Jon and Chicago. Bekah was thankful she chose to stay at Brynn’s instead of her parents by the time evening hit. The two best friends decided way too early in the morning to go out shopping on Friday. Walking around Easton the ladies checked out the sales. Brynn talking all about what she was getting Derek when she looked back to see Bekah had stopped dead in her tracks.

“What does one get her professional athlete boyfriend for Christmas?” Bekah’s question was loud enough to grab the attention of those walking by. Brynn closed the distance and looks up at her friend.

“Maybe not announce your relationship status in a crowd of strangers for starters?” Brynn says in a hushed voice as Bekah’s face floods when she notices the eyeballs on her. “You know Jon. You know he likes sentimental over extravagant.” Brynn links arms with Bekah and the two walk past a  lingerie store. “But he definitely needs you to buy something from here!” Brynn pulls the two inside as Bekah drags her feet.

“Tae, why aren’t your parents coming until the 26th?” Bekah looks at their shared calendar on her laptop and up at Jon who was leaning in her office doorway eating an apple.

“David is staying in Winnipeg plus they want to see the game on the 27th. So it’s just the two of us for Christmas.” Jon takes another bite.

“Oh! My parents are driving in on the 22nd and leaving after the game on the 23rd. It took some convincing to get them to stay here, you know and refused to let us fly them. Dad said something about an adventure.” Jon hums in acknowledgment knowing she’s not done. “You and Kaner, hockey boys and their nicknames, have the Children’s hospital thing on the 17th. That’s the same day I have the Lady Hawks thing. We are hosting Christmas party on the 30th before we head to South Bend for media. I’ll just leave the decorations up until we get back.” Bekah closes the computer and rounds her desk.

“Speaking of, I love how the place looks. Reminds me of Christmas at home.” Jon smiles as she shrugs her shoulders at the compliment then eyes the new puck shelf with her collection on it.

“I love my new shelf. I get a new one soon right?” Bekah’s eyes brighten as she wraps her arms around his waist and pulls him into her.

“Yes. You will get a Winter Classic puck and I get to see you on the ice!” Jon smirks and Bekah gulps.

“That’s optional right?” Bekah distracts Jon by biting his apple.

“Not really. I mean I guess you don’t have to skate but it’s one of those things I’ve been looking forward to. The guys with kids will bring them out. Babe, I’m not going to make you but family skate is a memory I want to have with you.” Jon drops his forehead to hers.

“And you won’t let me go?” Bekah whispers.

“You skate right?” Jon questions bringing his open hand to her chin, bringing her eyes to his.

“I can stand on the ice really well.” Bekah admits confidently while Jon kisses her lips holding back his laughter.

“I’ll hold on to you, Baby. Promise.” Jon snickers.

Christmas in Chicago was magical. Bekah’s parents drove in from Ohio and both Jon and Bekah could tell how overwhelmed with the house they were. In bed that night Jon was kissing down Bekah’s shoulder he started laughing. “What’s so funny?” Bekah sends the email she was typing and puts down her phone. Your parents reaction to the house was the same as yours and they are staying where you stayed. It’s just funny thinking about how comfortable you are here now. Jon moves his body on top of hers.

“Jonathan, we are NOT having sex with my parents down the hall.” Bekah whisper yells at him as he kisses her lips.

“You sure?” He bites at her lip. “Can we make out like high school kids at least?” Jon pulls his face away from hers and pushes his bottom lip out to pout.

“Fine, one moan or grunt and we are done.” Bekah whispers as Jon pulls her face to his while tongue quickly slips between her lips. He pulls then flips their bodies around so Bekah is straddling one of his legs. Her hips move along his thigh in reaction to how passionately he’s kissing her. Jon’s hands find her hips helping her move her core along his flexed thigh. Bekah breaks for a breath. “Are you trying to get me to...” she tries to even her breath then whispers “orgasm?” Jon pulls her core along his thigh again.

“What? Not sex.” He leans in to kiss her again and she melts into his lips. Hips moving quickly along his thigh and Jon holds Bekah’s body in place and kissers her hard when he feels her muscles tighten. They break and Bekah bites her lip muffling the moan that wants to escape her lips. Jon’s look of satisfaction his written across his face.

“I cannot believe you!” She playfully hits his chest then sweetly kisses his lips. “So if this is high school do you want a hand job?” She laughs and Jon groans. “Or can you be ridiculously quiet?” Jon wildly nods his head and moves slightly to remove her underwear and Jon follows her. “If my parents hear...” Bekah starts to sag while lowering herself onto his length.

“They won’t, promise.” Jon thrusts up and pulls Bekah to his chest.

The next day was filled with getting to know Jon more over breakfast then exchange of gifts. Jon and Bekah got her parents, Jim and Marie, Blackhawk sweatshirts to wear at the game. Bekah wanted to give them something they would never do for themselves so she bought tickets to a broadway show in Columbus that Bekah’s mom had talked about but knew Jim wouldn’t pay for the seats she wanted. Bekah was thankful Jon thought it was an amazing idea to give them a date night. Bekah and Jon were told to open their gifts together. Each revealing a large wooden heart. When Bekah looked at the center her eyes began to water.

“Mom, Dad... I...” Jon’s hand grabs hers. Bekah’s fingers trace the skyline of Columbus and look over to see Chicago’s iconic skyline on his.

“Jim, Marie, these are amazing. Thank you.” Jon squeezes Bekah’s hand finishing her statement.

“B, they are from that artist you always stop in his booth during festivals. We called and had them custom made.” Jim smiles wide taking in his daughter’s reaction.

“Well, I know exactly where these will go.” Bekah composes herself. “Now let’s head out to do all the tourist things while Jon takes his pregame nap.”

Bekah was hoping the Blackhawks would do well but the opposite happened. Jon even found himself with a penalty. He looked back a minute in to his penalty to see Bekah explaining the game to her parents. Jim and Marie seem to enjoy the game even with the loss. While making their way to Jon, Bekah could feel her mom wanted to say something. “What is it Mom?” Bekah asks once they got to the family area.

“You are at home here. So relaxed.” Marie says matter of factly and smiles at both Bekah and Jim.

“I really am. I’m happy, Mom.” Bekah hugs her mom and then her dad.

“We can tell B. We will see you soon, okay?” Jim picks her up a bit in his hug before Jon greeted them and the couple sends the Pierces on their way home to Columbus.

The next morning Bekah rolled over to find Jon missing. Her hand finds a note on his pillow.

Get ready. Dress warm. No Hawks gear. Coffee is waiting. Always, Tae

“What are we doing? It’s Christmas Eve!” Bekah wraps her arms around Jon who was sitting at their counter bar reading his phone.

“Part of your Christmas present. Ready?” Jon hands her a travel mug and grabs the layers of clothing to add to his t-shirt.

“Am I dressed okay?” Bekah does a little spin and Jon catches her in his arms. He sways a bit like they are dancing then kisses her lips.

“Perfect as long as you have layers but I can always keep you warm. Let’s go!” Jon drove towards Millennium Park���.

“Tae, what are we doing?” Bekah looks around as Jon gets out of the car and fishes a bag out of the back seat.

“Being Chicagoans Beks plus we need to break in these!” Jon opens the bag to reveal a pair of his hockey skates and a smaller pair for Bekah.

“We are skating here?!” The mixture of excitement nerves apparent. “But people, you know, know you.” Jon laughs.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean it stops me from doing things with you. We go to dinner just fine, don’t we?” Jon throws a little sass at Bekah. “Let’s go.” Jon tosses the bag on his back and heads to the ice rink. He gracefully steps onto the ice and turns to help Bekah. She was shocked by how not awkward she felt on the ice which all because of Jon. He slowly skating next to her with his arm snaked around her torso.

“Please don’t let me fall.” Bekah whispered as Jon shifted to in front of her.

“I got you Babe.” Jon smiles. “One more time around.” She holds his gloved hands with a death grip. “Hungry?” He asks and she nods as they skate off. Next stop was Portillo’s for Chicago dogs. Bekah laughed as Jon ate his without a bun and a fork.

“There is only one hotdog I like!” Bekah takes a bite and Jon smirks

“Oh yeah, just one? Really?” His smirk grows to a wide dimply smile. Bekah scoffs when she realized what he was insinuating.

The rest of their day included the flower show at Franklin Park Conservatory, dinner at Lou Malnati’s, and finally driving around to see the city lights with Garrett’s popcorn and hot chocolate.

“Today was fun!” Bekah cuddles into Jon in bed.

“I’m glad. I was hoping so. I know we don’t eat that ever.”

“And I’m okay with that. It was a fun change today. Thank you.” Bekah falls asleep while talking.

“Good Morning!” Jon whispers Christmas morning.

“Good Morning, Tae. We know Santa didn’t come right? We can sleep in.” Bekah eyes the clock on her nightstand.

“I’m going to make breakfast if you want to sleep in.” Jon kisses her forehead.

“I’m coming!” Bekah slips out of bed and throws on her bathrobe over Jon’s shirt. The couple danced to Christmas music while making breakfast.

“Can I give you your gift yet?” Jon sneaks a piece of bacon from the plate. His excitement for Christmas written all over his face.

“Jon, yesterday with the skates is a gift enough! Seriously. We said two gifts.” Bekah kisses his cheek.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Jon grabs their plates and makes it to the blanket he set up in front of the tree and the fire place.

Jon hands Bekah two boxes and flicks the smaller box at her. Opening slowly she reveals two leather like bracelets. One inside the other. “So the smaller one is for you. It’s already been branded. I’ll let you pick what to put on mine.” Jon takes the bracelet and slips it on her wrist. “That way no matter where we are we have a reminder of the other.” Bekah spins the bracelet over her wrist to see Always, Tae branded on the leather.

“Jon, this is perfect.” She breathes out and leans to kiss his lips. “I think I know what yours will say. Property of Beks.” Bekah laughs hard and Jon joins then motions for the next gift. Bekah opens to reveal a black and white Toews jersey and matching beanie. “Oh I love it, Tae!” Her fingers run across the letters in Toews.

“I know it’s silly but I know you said you liked it.” He runs his hand along the back of his neck as Bekah grabs the two boxes.

“Big box first.” Jon didn’t even wait for her to finish. Inside there were four painted canvas emerge.

“Oh, theses are really awesome.” Jon takes in the different painted canvas with some texture to each.

“Well the one on top is here, that reddish one is Columbus, the greenish one is Winnipeg, orange is Sedona.” Bekah explains and sees Jon’s puzzled face. “The texture is soil from each on. Your mom helped with the Winnipeg one and your training team helped with Sedona. They can be hung separately but also those lines make a heart when put together.” Bekah finishes and looks a Jon’s shocked face.

“Beks. These are... so very cool. How did you think to do it? Where did you get them?”

“I painted them during a road trip.” Jon leans over to kiss her then realizes what she said.

“YOU created these?” Jon’s mouth drops open. “Oh Babe! Best gift. I’m not sure how this one will beat it.” Bekah smirks as he starts to open the smaller box. Jon pulls out the black and red lingerie she picked out with Brynn.

“For later.” Bekah bites her lip taking in Jon’s face.

“Holy fuck, Beks! Can later be now?  Can later be NOW?” Bekah giggles.

“Maybe.” Jon nods.

“I mean it is Christmas!” Jon licks his lips.

“Well, Marry Christmas Captain!” Bekah pulls the lingerie set into her hands. “Give me like 10 minutes.”

“Yes, Marry Christmas to me.” Jon’s fingers lace together behind his head and he leans against the chair behind him. Bekah stands to head to the bedroom and eyes something stuck in the tree.

“What’s this?”  Bekah’s fingers reach into the tree and pull out the pristinely wrapped small box.  Jon shrugs his shoulders.  “Jon?”

“What’s the tag say?”  Jon’s tongue sticks out from between his teeth.  

“To Beks from Santa.  Geez, Jon!  We said two gifts and you have cheated.”  Bekah looks down at the accomplished look on her boyfriend’s face.   “Well YOU put four canvases in one... so just open it Beks.”  Jon encourages.

Bekah’s fingers begin to open the wrapping to reveal a jeweler’s box.  Her gasp catches in her throat as Jon stands.  “Jon...”  She breathes out and starts to open the box slowly.

[popculturebuffet]

Scott Pilgrim’s Precious Little Life Review

Happy Birthday To Me, as I continue my birthday celebration by taking a look at comics that have a personal connection to me.. And for our main feature, i’m taking a look at the first volume of a series that was vitally important to a teenage me, Scott Pilgrim. 

Scott Pilgrim is the brainchild of Brian Lee’O’Malley. O’Malley came up with the concept from a number of things. Being a fan of the band Plumtree, O’Malley was curious about the name of their song “Scott Pilgrim” and wondered who this Scott Pilgrim guy was. So over the years he slowly built the guy up in the back of his mind using bits of his life and what not. As for why he ends up fighting 7 evil exes, that came from a discussion with his then girlfriend, later wife and currently ex-wife Hope Larson, where he threw off the joke that her exes should form some kind of League. After finishing his first solo work Lost at Sea, O’Malley decided Scotty would be his next project and the rest is history. To date while O’Malley has written two works since, Seconds which is delightful and Snotgirl which didn’t grab me but I intend to try again, Scott remains his most popular work, in large part due to it’s SUBLIME video game and movie adaptations, the former of which is finally getting a rerelease next month. 

The series charm is in it’s style: A manga styled comic that combines two desperate kinds of story: Shonen Fight Manga and Slice of Life Indie Comics. The story shifts from Scott going through normal life stuff while trying to make his new relationship work and get his shit together and Scott getting into big bombastic fights with his new sweetie’s exes for the right to keep dating her and to you know, stay alive. The series effortlesly blends a video game like world with real grounded characters and is wonderful for it.  As for where I came in, one Free Comic Book day I found a little comic named Free Scott Pilgrim, which I genuinely loved and was instantly charmed by it’s humor and well done art. So I picked up the second and third volumes of the series proper and the first once I could find it and the rest ,as they say, is history. For my high school life, this was one of hte most important things in it and I wrote fanfiction, which I thankfully never put online and in general enjoyed the hell out of the series. Then I just kind of.. let it sit on my shelf for a while. It wasn’t BAD, I just never got back to it and as the franchise went dormant I just sorta slept on it and the movie and that part of me...

Cut to a few weeks ago, when Comixology did a massive sale for black friday that marked a ton of Graphic Novels down to just 1 buck each, and the color editions of Scott Pilgrim happened to be part of this, though only volume 1 was that cheap. But thanks to my best friend micheal and an early christmas/birthday present I got the rest and got to revisit the series as a whole, with me rethinking my previous thoughts of volume 1 and thus.. wanting to review it and share both why this series is so damn special and what’s good, and what’s not so good about it. I’ll also be covering the game, once i’ts re-released, and the movie once i’m finsihed with the comics so look out for that. And get ready to take a trip to the glorious land of canada... 

As a heads up and as you can tell i’ll be using the color version as while I could get scans of the black and white, I prefer the color version. While the black and white was fine and always will be, I think the impressive coloring job really adds to thing and makes the already great fight scenes pop more, as well as making certain background elements stand out a bit. While it does negate the black and white gags, the tradeoff is more than worth it. That being said either version is fine so if you can get the black and white cheaper that’s fine and i’ve kept my original copies, with volumes 4 -6 having been picked up as they came out. 

So as our story starts we meet our hero: Scott Pilgrim Age 23, a charming but jobless and kind of sketchy possible college graduate whose really been adrift in his life since a breakup about a year ago. And when our story opens he’s taken a turn for a worse and decided to date sweet but naive and inexperinced Knives Chau, a 17 year old girl. And why yes the power dynamics there are messed up and why yes Scott is pretty damn sketchy in this moment in time, and while yes I am aware the age of consent in canada is 16, it dosen’t make this any less greasy and the story knows that.  And how it knows that MOST of his friends aren’t on board. The only ones who seems to is Stephen Stiles, leader of Sex Bomb-Omb, the band scott’s in with one of the best names ever and even then it’s hard to tell if he’s being sarcastic or just a total douche. The other, Young Neil Nordgraf, Stephen’s roomate, is well 19 or 20 and kind of a dipshit so we just ignore him. I used to use him as kind of a projection, to put myself in the adventure when I was younger as Neil kind of lacks personality in the comics but in the comics.. he’s not hte best or most complex character. He is great in the movie though and Edgar Wright did an amazing job fleshing him out.  The rest of his circle are .. not so permissive. His best friend, roomate and king of all gays for all time Wallace Wells very much does not want to come with Scott to school to pick her up because every part of that sentence after hurt to type. Granted Scott gets him to come with him with promises of boys, but frankly knowing wallace he was probably just playing along/wants to protect this poor child. His ex and fellow bandmate Kim is clearly bothered by it and is flat out worried Scott is taking advantage of her. Kim and Wallace are easily my faviorites both for personality and because I have a massive crush on both. With Wallace it just didn’t manifest till the reread. Finally Scott’s kid sister Stacey chews him out over it before genuinely wondering if he’s gone insane or he’s actually happy. For my two cents: he’s not. He WANTS to be, but he dosen’t know how. And as someone whose both neurotypical, which given Scott’s troubles with empathy and relating to people like yours truly I strongly suggest he is, and has struggled with depression I can relate to that. He wants to move on but he just.. can’t, he just wants to get past the haze he’s been in since Envy dumped him.. but he dosen’t know how. So instead of doing someting constructive or finding a job or anything .. he just took the first and easiest way out of his depression he could. I’ve done that with video games and stuff. Scott did that by entering a relationship that’s really easy, requires only so much effort, and is with someone who utterly adores, looks up to him and will never expect better. Being with Knives makes him feel better.. but it dosen’t MAKE him a better person. As i’ve made clear dating someone just for a boost makes him actively worse and had fate not intervened, I shudder to think what Scott might have become. That being said his actoins are still creepy and since Scott has a habit of landing ass backwards into being an asshole here’s a counter to track that. That’s 2 for doing this overall, one for tleling her to be good, and 1 for trying to ply wallace with underage boys. 

Your the Scum of the Earth Scott Counter: 1

Thankfully fate does and Scott’s dreams, ones of him crawling through a desert alone, are interupted by a mysterious pink haired girl on skates. The next day he’s just sort of in a daze, kind of confused, and even more so when he sees her IN REAL LIFE, while at the library with Knives. He’s understandably frazzled but ends up finding out he’s not hallucinating when talking to MIcheal Cormeau. Micheal is a minor character and another artist and friend of o malley’s who represents that one guy in social circles who knows everybody. And indeed he knows the mystery girl, Ramona Flowers and that she’s there. Scott TRIES talking her up but just creeps her out, so Scott goes with plan b and decides to ask around about her. Enter Sandra and Monique, two college aquantinces of Scott, who just sorta show up at major events and aren’t that developed or intresting. They turn him to Julie who forbids him to date her. To which I say. 

Naturually we’ll aslo be needing a counter for this. 

Shut Up Julie Counter: 1

Scott however did find out she’s a delivery girl for Amazon Canada, and thus orders some CD’s on Wallace’s Credit card to hopefully see her. And while his behavior IS obessive.. it’s understandable. I’d be weirdly obessed with finding someone too if they showed up in my dreams every day and were apparently a real person. I’d probably play it cooler but still i’ts kind of understandable. So after a day with knives in which he’s clearly checked out she kisses him, he freaks out and it’s very clear that while Scott’s good at attracting women he’s just.. not good with his emotions and has finally woken up to how messed up this is, but has no idea how to get out now he’s intrested in someone he actually has a future with maybe.  Speaking of Scott’s package and Ramona finally arrive. Scott’s move is to.. ask her out abrubtly but after he mentions her Dreams, Ramona finally puts two and two together and explains things: She’s been using Subspace, a seris of highways connected by the subconcious and apparently more common in america, though it’s later revealed she was taught this but being the first book with a lot of the lore and what not ironed out this is fine. Point is she was just using his dreams as transit and didn’t mean to get him obessed. Scott continues to try his schtick and eventually gets her to agree to hang out with him. Why she does I generally do not know, as SCott basically fell ass backwards over himself conversationally, but whatever. If he didn’t succeed we wouldn’t have a plot. 

That being said things pick up a bit with the date though. The scene is really good and simply just the two.. talking. Having plesant conversations getting to know one another. That good stuff. it’s just really nice to read and it’s hard to explain why. Highlights include Scott’s x-men patch, Ramona not wanting to talk about her last job and Scott admitting he hasn’t been obessed in a long time.. and it comes off sweet rather htan creepy like that sounds. It just means he hasn’t fell this head over heels felt like this. As I said Knives was easy.. but this is hard.. and this.. feels right. So as things Snow Ramona yanks scott through subspace to escape the blizzard. 

So we end up back at Ramona’s place and she offers some tea which leads to one of the best gags of the volume as she lists them off: 

So Ramona goes to get Scott a blanket, Scott ends up following finds her changing, and she decides to warm him up another way.. by embracing him... cue.. the inevitible really. 

It feels organic though: The two are clearly attracted to each other and while Scott came on as strong as freaking colossus, he still rebounded well once they hung out and he could relax a bit and show the scott underneath the lairs of dumbass. The two end up cuddling in bed and Scott seems..genuiley happy saying he needed this... awwwwwww. They part the next morning with him asking her to his band’s performance. 

So Scott finds Wallace  at home who says what Scott needs to hear “You need to break up with your fake highschool girlfriend scott’ Granted the entire first 40 pages could’ve been titled that but now he’s actively cheating. He’s also got a letter. 

It’s a death threat Scott barely grazes through, just like an email earlier. 

But scott’s more concerned with his emotional distress.. i.e. the consequences of his throughly shitty actions finally hitting him in the face. 

Scott heads to practice for his gig and can’t bring himself to break up with knives, but does find out about the opposition: Crash and the Boys, based on an NES game title because of course it is. Crash, their leader, Joel their baseplayer who scott hates because he hates all other baseplayers (”I don’t hate myself kim) and Trasha, an 8 year old progedy they found playing Drum Mania. Don’t ask me what that is, i’m not going to get every refrence. 

So at the show Scott runs into Stacey and her new boyfriend Jimmy  with Stacey being supportive. And then Knives shows up and then RAMONA SHOWS UP. Oh no scott’s cheating might be discovered! 

So Scott books it while we’re introduced to Crash and the Boys. Wallace heckles them, to the band’s annoyance, until they eventually get fed up and we easly get the best gag of the volume. I was wrong this clearly tops the tea thing. 

So Crash and The Boys continue to play their set, including a song that supposdely kills the audience but really knocks them out.. which of course bothers kim because they play next. Meanwhile Ramona and Stacey meet and the two really get along.. and come back to find the audience ko’d and Wallace Making out with Stacey’s boyfriend. Oh no! Which is a dick move, no question. But Stacey’s next move is questionable even for a 19 year old: She says “You won’t steel another guy from me and tells wallace to sit over there”. Okay Stacey even if he is bi, and this series has trouble with the concept of bisexuals we’ll get into that later trust me, he made out with someone else entirely while on a date with you. Wallace is still an asshole, it’s part of his charm.. but it dosen’t change the fact your date kissed someone else seconds after you were gone and has been eyballing him all night, as seen even above. He’s not into you as you thought, just accept it, move on, and kick Jimmy in the balls and then wallace like a proper lady. So Scott prepares to play and this happens

And it’s here, at the very end of the comic the series main premise finally kicks in and the world takes it’s true shape. It’s a world where an indie comedy about a mess of a being putting his life together after finding his dream girl.. also has said mess being forced to get into fist fights with wizards, movie stars, vegans, half-ninjas, twin roboticists and a katana wielding douchenozzle record exec in order to continue to have the right to date his girlfriend. 

It’s where the series charm comes from and really what made it a huge sucess so it’s no suprise this volume perks up immensley for the climax. I’ll get more into it’s pacing problem at the end. For now it’s fight time and as we find out in a hilarious and awesome turn.. Scott is the best fighter in toronto.. which just makes me REALLLY want a Scott Pilgrim version of letterkenny. I mean who wouldn’t want to see wayne fight some guy who can turn his hands into dragons or see Squireely Dan do E.Honda’s hand slap move from streetfighter or see the skids all fuse into one mega emo. It’s just.. the possiblities are as endless as they are wonderous and I want this now. 

But yeah as Patel is both the first boss and Scott’s first real opponent Scott.. handles him really easily. This was by design as O’Malley wanted a shonen progression to the fights.. and honestly it’s a great way to do things. Since the fights are styled after shonen and video games, and both have power based progression in bad guys and threats, it just made sense. Patel.. is just pathetic even with his magic powers, and his habit of sending letters and emails just pounds it in. Though he is right to be a bit pissed Scott didn’t read a letter he hand delivered in a snowstorm. That’s just a tad rude. 

Mid-Fight, Scott, now he knows the whole evil ex boyfriend thing, wonders what Matt and Ramona’s past is and while Matthew refuses to tell.. Ramona spills easily. It was midddle school, all the jocks wanted her for whatever reason, likely because from experince in high school, guys really like indie girls. Matthew was the only non-white non jock, so they teamed up and with her strength and his mystic powers they beat them.. but since his use had dried up, she flipped him off and left.  Matthew dosen’t take this well and summons demon hipster chicks to fight while Scott and co, minus ramona, fight back with a finger gun routine and block his fire balls before propelling Scott into matthew somehow, and landing the KO Evil Exes Left: 6 Matthew bursts into coins though fun fact, O’Malley says the Exes all respawned back at home afterwords and learned their lesson. With Pattel I genuinely don’t think he did... but clearly given his penchant for formality what with the letters and emails, he probably felt it’d break protocol to attack before the rest were done. He probably jsut formed a hipster emo band and found more sucess using his magic for that instead and just forgot about the whole thing. Could be wrong but that’s what i’m going with.  So Scott asks Ramona to go out with him then make out with him, both of which she says yes to. Nice one scotty boy. Ramona then explains the whole evil exes thing: He’ll have to defeat each one as they come after him, and while Scott wonders if they’ll come one at a time Ramona’s not sure. As time will bear out, Scott is MOSTLY correct as most exes take him one on one, with the exception of the twins. But since as I said earlier the twins are basically one person, and as we’ll find out by choice, so it’s an exception. Plus their the last step before the final boss, so by that token it’s a bit fairer to have the penultimate boss get an unfair advantage. Scott is fine with that, he and Ramona share another moment and a kiss.. but Scott makes the mistake of asking if gideon is one and Ramona’s head starts glowing with her dodging the subject, though still going out with SCott and him worried.. it just feels.. off. not a bad ending but the only one of the series three cliffhanger endings that just dosen’t work for me, especailly since it is a bit before the Gideon mystery really picks up steam again. But with that we close this chapter

FINAL THOUGHTS:

Precious Little Life is a decent start to the story.  While Scott is loathsome at first, he’s still a compelling character and does get more likeable as things go, the humor when it is there shines and is one of the series best assets and while the fight is short and only at the end, it is oh so glorious especailly in cover with the impacts taking cues from the movie. It’s a good intro to Scott’s world and ther’es a reason the movie adapts this book the closest as it sets up the cast and premise well, with only Stephen Stiles feeling a bit off and ONLY for the first few chapters.  The volume is only really held back by it’s pacing, as before Scott runs into ramona in his dream the story feels a bit sluggish as we’re just watching some douche date a high school kid. While it is necessary to set up the world, it just dosen’t have the snappy pacing the series would be known for and that makes the rest of the series more charming. it’s nto BAD.. but it’s not FANTASTIC like the series would become. What keeps it from being bad is simple: These aren’t general badness signs but more just O’Malley coming into his owna nd getitng better and better as the book goes, to the point that by the next book the pacing is much better and by book 3 onwards he has it down pat.  Overall not a BAD volume but certaionly the weakest of the bunch.. which given it’s still really good says something about the ride we’re in for. I’ll be back sometime in the future, likely january. Yup i’m taking on YET ANOTHER PROJECT. but since this one, while clearly exausting and time consuimg, is much shorter in overall length, and i’m still proritizing the three I have running over this, I think i’ll be just fine. Until next time, have a happy holiday. 

[raleighliving]

Budget Living Raleigh

Living in any city you’re gonna look at higher costs of living.  Rent, utilities, and insurance all add up before you even factor in groceries.  But just because you’re living in the city doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have nice things.

If you find all your money is being eaten by rent, and your bed is supported by the ground itself, then this article is for you; cause we’re going to talk today about bargain hunting in Raleigh and what to look for when you want a good deal on good furniture.  Maybe I’ll do this again for groceries or other such things but for now we’re just focused on general niceties.

Best part of this is it’s gonna be fairly general too.  Anything I mention here you could probably find or do in any American city or small town since the institutions are fairly ubiquitous.  

If you find yourself lacking furniture, decorations, or just general quality of life enhancers my answer boils down to two main points:  Thrifting and Resale stores.  At times they can seem similar enough but there are fine differences that separate the two using fairly recognizable criteria.

“RL,” I hear you say between fistfuls of knockoff Cheetos and self-loathing, “Of course if you want bargains  you go thrifting! Did you JUST hear about Goodwill recently?”  

Yes, in terms of hot takes this is especially dull but what I can lend to the conversation isn’t about how prices at thrift organizations are cheaper than retailers, how you should support your local thrift organizations, or even the general good they provide to low-income communities; what I’m looking at is knowing what you have and what you can expect to find when visiting.  

Take Goodwill, for instance, since everyone has seen at least one in their life. Outside of their larger outlets where you’ll find more furniture, walk into any Raleigh Goodwill and you’ll have seen all of them.  90% of the floorspace is dedicated to cheap clothes with a backwall full of knickknacks and a small bookshelf.  If you’re lucky, there may even be a sofa or two and some paintings along the wall but most of what you’ll find is cheap clothes.

Now, if that’s what you’re looking for that’s great! However, I’ve grown to have a deep distaste for the homogeneity of local GCF stores.  Customers can donate their clothes, toys, and other items to GCF at any store locations; but those items are shipped to processing and then distributed to other GCFs across the country based on inventory need and sales patterns.  What you see in one donation center/store you’ll likely see in every other with maybe the odd rare find if you’re lucky. 

GCF aside your options for Raleigh include org thrifts, mom and pop stores, and discount thrifts to provide some much needed variety in your day-to-day shopping. Each with their pros and cons, yet all sharing the glorious benefit of providing furniture and clothing for a fraction of the price of bigger brand stores.

Org thrifts (short for organization thrift stores, creative I know) are exactly what they sound like.  Thrifts run by an organization or charity, similar to Goodwill's, with a stated goal of helping others and supporting the organization financially over seeking a profit margin. 

Cause 4 Paws, Raleigh/Durham Rescue mission, and Dorcas thrift stores all provide a wide variety of products while using the store proceeds to help the less fortunate; but with phenomenal prices.  It’s not uncommon for a thrift store run by one of these organizations to have fifty cent books, clothing sold by the pound, and furniture/power tools under the $40 price tag if you’re lucky.  Plus, not to sound like a broken record but, your proceeds go towards good causes like animal adoption and feeding the homeless.  

Most thrifts of this nature are run by religious organizations, so if you’re at odds with supporting that sort of thing you might be more interested in the other two options; but otherwise this type of thrift store typically comes with very few downsides. 

|Image Credit:  Dorcas Thrift on Nextdoor

Of course, one of those other options is the standard mom and pop operation.  Not linked to any specific organization or franchise, these tend to be small businesses run by local families serving a smaller radius.  

Prices as a result tend to be a little higher than your average thrift store since it’s, y’know, a business; and the selection can be a little below average, usually consisting largely of estate sale leftovers, but this also works to their favor.

There’s no central distribution center for these businesses, so what people sell/donate to these stores comes from nearby communities typically.  So if you find one near an upper class area like Honeycutt Rd or Ebeneezer Church Rd, they’ll typically have nice furniture, art, and electronics for thrift store prices. 

There’s not too many of these, but my personal favorite is Fabulous Affordable Treasures in Southwest Raleigh.  A decent assortment of clothes and decorative pieces (and a very relaxing general environment) makes it a positive visit even when I’m just browsing. 

|Image credit:  Affordable Treasures Facebook

Finally there’s Discount thrifts.  They’re not too common, and are usually supported by an organization additionally although not all are, but if you find one check back with them regularly because it’s almost guaranteed to be worth it.

These thrift stores operate by having a degrading price scale; setting prices when the object comes into inventory, and then lowering them based on how long its been with them or the condition it was received in.  

Stores like Habitat for Humanity ReStore and Petersons Consigning Design use this, and typically offer discounts upwards of 60% if you wait long enough.  On top of having equally large selections of product from org thrifts, they offer plenty for the savvy shopper. 

The downside is, the best possible price you can receive for any given product is a gamble.  That sweet leather armchair you have your eye on might be dropped from 40% to 50% in the next two days, but if someone finds the price acceptable where it is then that products gone forever (or at least until something similar winds up in inventory).

|Image Credit:  Petersons Consigning Design website

Regardless of which thrift store you choose though, you’re bound to find a bargain in one eventually if you check back every once in awhile.  I’ve only mentioned a fraction of the stores available in Raleigh, if you find a few favorites of your own and check back regularly, you’re bound to find something you’ll love at a price you couldn’t find anywhere else.

Of course, if you’re looking for more niche deals you could always use programs like Facebook Marketplace or Craigslist for people just looking to get rid of their junk.  They’re easy to use and both are incredibly active for the Raleigh area; but if you’re looking for something a little more...interesting then I’d recommend checking out liquidation stores.

There’s not many of them in Raleigh, but recently this past week a store by the name of Treasure Hunt Liquidation opened up with an interesting premise.  They buy tons of returned and opened merchandise from places like Amazon and sell them to other people on a degrading price scale similar to the thrift stores we mentioned above. 

Fridays the price-per-item is $10, and then day by day it drops till it hits $1 per item on the following Wednesdays (and they close Thursdays for inventory).  large bins full of boxed or repackaged goods line the floor with everything from car parts to 3D printing filaments depending on when you can get there. 

Additionally, you can purchase pallets of goods as well; with some of the more high ticket items ranging from $300 up to $1500; but generally containing some of the more desirable items like bikes and kitchen equipment.  

Overall, the whole experience is like a giant rotating lootbox; you’re never quite sure what you’re gonna get when you go but you’re likely to find something that at least catches your eye, even if it doesn’t come home with you.

|Image Credit:  Treasure Hunt Liquidation facebook group

You can’t find everything you’ll ever need at stores like these, but you’ll definitely be able to find affordable furniture and clothes even on a college student’s budget. Even a few dollars saved can make a huge difference though, so if you get the chance or see a store on the side of the road that catches your eye, be sure to at least stop in and see what they have for sale. 

Or, if you’ve read this and have some books/clothes/toys to donate please consider donating or selling them to your local thrift location.  These secondhand finds can make all the difference in the world to a kid who wouldn’t be able to get them otherwise.   Regardless, hopefully at the very least this article kept you entertained, and I hope everyone reading has a great day!

[solarianvoidthearoace]

Excerpt#4 from my JonGerry AU WiP

CN/TW: brief discussion of psychiatric medication, amiable/loving insults and banter

Gerry swallowed, putting his phone down on the table and grabbing their mug.

„Okay, what now?“, Jon shifted his elbow on the table, leaning closer. Gerry just sighed, handing over his phone, the messages with Gertrude still open. Jon raised a brow,

„So Michael gossiped“, he shrugged,

„I don’t see why you’re suddenly this tense.“ Gerry cleared their throat, taking his phone back and looking at Jon,

„Yes, well, I know my last art show was months ago, back when we were still feeling this out. Us. But actually, I do want to invite you to my art show“, they slowly smiled.

„Jon, would you like to come with to this art show? It’s primarily my work getting displayed but the rest of the gallery is open for the event as well. And while I know tickets and all sounds like it’s this scary exclusive high class thing, it’s more of a formality“, they made a placating gesture, expression a bit awkward,

„So they know who is associated with the organisation and to keep track of who is actually there to buy something.“ He shrugged, looking at Jon with an expression he thought wasn’t too hopeful. Jon just leaned even closer, pressing a kiss to their cheek,

„I’d love to come with.“ Cupping Jon’s face, Gerry turned their head, kissing him properly.

„Martin is also invited of course, I’ll send you the calendar entry so you can ask him about it when you’re out today.“

It was a Friday, the next day. Jon only worked a half the day, due to his half-year check-in with his psychiatrist. It somehow had happened to fall into the same week as Martin’s endocrinologist appointment. He was home rather soon because of that, allowing himself to sneak up on Gerry. Obviously he didn’t want to intrude on his partner’s workspace, but if they happened to be anywhere else in the loft? Jon wasn’t afraid to admit he was somewhat of a cuddle-kraken.

Where he found Gerry was in the bathroom, but the door was open so Jon poked his head in. Bend over the sink, Gerry was picking at strands of his hair, applying dye. They did spot Jon via the mirror, though.

„You’re home early“, slowly setting the strand aside so it wouldn’t smack him in the face.

„And you’re trying to do a full touch-up of your dye job on your own“, Jon sighed. Before Gerry could answer, Jon chucked off his sweater and went looking for their package of disposable gloves.

„Thank you“, their grin was a bit lopsided. Jon just rolled his eyes,

„Yea, yea, twerp. Just the roots?“ Snapping on the gloves, he took the brush Gerry held out.

„It’s black, doll. Not like it will get blotchy if there’s too much. Just needs to cover everything properly.“ Jon sighed, giving a gentle push so Gerry would tilt their head as he needed to part the hair. Before he actually started anything, though, he handed the brush back and went over to the shower to get the shower stool. Not doing the dye job himself, Gerry didn’t exactly need to stand to look into the mirror. Gerry held the bowl for him, ducking their head this way and that, so Jon could reach every area that was left. They remained in comfortable silence for some time.

„Why do you even still dye your hair yourself?“, Jon finally asked, using the pointed handle of the applicator brush to shift some strands.

„I just got used to it“, Gerry shrugged,

„Also I did step up my game. I started using proper salon-grade hair colour some years back.“ Jon snorted,

„Yea, I got curious and looked up the conditioner you use, once“, he shook his head. As good as they could, Gerry shot him a glare through the mirror. Jon actually blew him a kiss in reiteration, before he grinned.

„My appointment went well, by the way.“ Gerry raised a brow, he hadn’t been about to ask.

„Apparently my newly changed living situation benefits my mental health, as far as my psychiatrist was willing to dip into psychologist territory“, Jon continued, shrugging,

„I mean, obviously my anxiety dropped. Within the range that’s somewhat usual for general anxiety disorder, so there’s that. But unless I notice anything specific, eh. This positive change in my life isn’t a reason to change my medication or dosage. I’m honestly fine with that decision.“ Gerry hummed in understanding. Reaching up his hand that wasn’t holding the colour bowl, they gave Jon’s hand a squeeze,

„Understandable. Changing medication is a pain in the ass.“ Jon nodded empathetically,

„Oh, that does remind me“. He paused while he looked through the sections he had made of Gerry’s hair. Nodding to himself, he grabbed the disposable shower cap from the sink. Twisting Gerry’s hair up to get it all into the cap, he smiled when they helped fixating the loose tangle for a moment.

„Where was I? Oh, yes. So, when I was out with Martin yesterday, he said he had to pick up his hormones. We stopped by here real quick and I took your prescription with to the apothecary. Restock is in the mirror cabinet.“ He pointed over to the part of the long mirror cabinet where they kept their medication,

„I know you keep them in the bedroom but since it didn’t seem urgent, I figured I would just put them there.“ Checking one last time the cap sat properly, Jon finally pulled off his gloves.

As soon as Gerry had disposed of the colour bowl as well as his own gloves, they turned and took Jon’s hands in his.

„Thank you. Was I asleep while you snuck around here?“ He raised a brow, expression teasing. Jon rolled his eyes,

„Either that or holed up downstairs. It’s not like I checked, dipshit.“ Gerry hummed, tilting their head and giving Jon a scrutinising look. Leaning back against the sink to stabilise themself, Gerry pulled Jon in, gently moving him around until he sat across his lap. Hugging him, he pressed a kiss to Jon’s neck.

„I really appreciate you taking care of me, doll.“ Jon huffed, rolling his eyes,

„It’s not like it was lengths to go to or anything. Sure, Martin did give me a look about it.“ He shrugged. At that, Gerry looked up, giving him a quizzical look, Jon waved it away.

„He knows my brand of antidepressants by now, not like it changed. But the packet-size is rather universal anyway, so I honestly didn’t feel the need to explain this to him. It’s your business. It is easy enough to figure out if he actually caught what type of medication it is but I don’t really think so…?“, Jon scratched at his neck. Gerry grinned, before putting on a mock-scandalised expression,

„Are you keeping things from your boyfriend, on my behalf?“ That just earned him an elbow to the stomach, thanks to Jon’s position.

„Oh shut up, twerp.“ The accompanying huff was unmistakably on the fond side of exasperation. They just grinned again,

„Hm, no. But maybe I will let myself get convinced to put my mouth to better use than running it.“

With how involved Gerry had managed to get Jon, a bit of the hair colour paste had smudged onto Jon’s shoulder, discolouring the strap of his undershirt. Besides that, it had been a nice and quiet weekend for the two of them. And also the last one before Gerry got wrapped up in the acute preparations of the art show. The next couple of weeks turned out rather busy. Working with Gertrude’s team to set up in the gallery meant he had to switch their daily routine, as far as it existed, to that of someone working eight-to-five. Lining it up with Jon’s nine-to-five if it hadn’t been for the librarian-slash-archivist’s overtime.

It was getting a bit hectic, though. Meaning, they did reduce their shifts at the bar for the time being. Gerry, first off, had to work actual day-time hours to be involved in the organisation. On top of adhering to Gertrude’s instructions to them as the artist. Which basically summed up to the equivalent of working over-time as well. So his work schedule almost lined up with Jon’s after all. It was nice, to get home around the same time as their partner, or only having just arrived when the front door clicked.

Gertrude was strict but she also knew not to overwork them, meaning she cut Gerry some slack in lieu of being helpful with the event organisation. Not that they got payed for the administrative help or basically doing the same job as Michael for the time being.

But at least she didn’t push any commissions at him until the art show and follow-up around the sales would be done. In those weeks, he actually was off work when he got home. This, of course, also entailed there wasn’t much time Gerry was working when Jon brought Martin with him. Meaning, they were about anywhere in the loft except for the atelier.

“Uhm, what is the dress code for the event?”, Martin spoke up at some point during an evening at the loft. Jon paused,

“Actually I haven’t thought about that. He didn’t exactly mention anything, so I figured something around business casual?”, he didn’t look all that sure. Humming, Jon got up from the couch,

“They should be upstairs so I’ll just go ask.” Martin nodded, suddenly sitting a bit stiffer than he did before, making Jon smile,

“You can come along, you know?”

On the upper floor of the loft, the bedroom door was leant, a thin gap visible. Still, Jon thought it better to check,

“Gerry, are you decent in there?” From the inside came a snort, followed by a chuckled reply,

“Morally? Never! I’m wearing pants, though, if that was the root of your concern.” Rolling his eyes, Jon turned to Martin so someone would see his long-suffering expression.

“Since we pretty much corrupted each other in our youth, of course I meant the pants, dipshit!”, he snarled back,

“Martin’s with me and I don’t want any of us to have a weird situation here.” Some clattering and rustling came from behind the door,

“Come on in, then. No need to keep talking through the door, four-eyes.” With that, Jon pushed the door open and walked in, allowing Martin to enter after him. Gerry sat on their bed, still in their black jeans from when he had been to the gallery. But they had changed the button shirt Gertrude had forced upon him in favour of his pastel hoodie. Sitting cross legged near the foot-end, he was still in the process of tying his hair back.

“So, what’s up?”

“Ah, well…”, Martin’s voice came out even more meek than usual, probably from the nervousness of standing in someone else’s bedroom,

“I was wondering about the event you invited us to. First, thanks again, of course. I’m really excited about seeing your work, properly displayed even. Secondly, while I know the appointed time and everything, I was wondering whether there will be a dress-code.” At that, Gerry blinked, before humming.

“Well… for me, I have to stick to whatever Trudie will force me to wear that night, since I’m posing as her assistant again. But the general event dress-code is somewhere between smart casual and business casual, I think.” They turned and stretched to grab his phone from the bedside table,

“I’ll ask Sasha.”

While they waited on the reply, Jon’s brow creased,

“So you’re forced into… what? Business attire? I really can’t picture that.” Gerry rolled his eyes,

“More like cocktail attire. Not exactly a distinction to business dress but Gertrude is giving us all some leeway, as long as we look official enough. Last time Sasha wore a floaty silk blouse over high-waisted slacks”, they shrugged,

“Along those lines, I guess. I always try matching her in terms of formal dress, it’s at least more coherent than whatever Michael has got going on at any time.”

[queenjunoking]

The Stalker pt 3

CW: Noncon - Kidnapping - Stalking, Voyeurism

“What’s it say?” Alice asked Caldwell as she sat at the table and ate dinner. She was enjoying the hot chocolate recipe that Scout had sent earlier. A recipe made by Melody herself. It made her feel giddy.

Caldwell read over the note a second time. He wanted to sigh, but it wouldn’t be proper to do so in front of Alice. Today had been quite nice, Alice had been in a good mood the entire day. She was up and about by herself. They had been rare the last few weeks.

This would certainly tank that mood.

“Miss Scout has recorded a confrontation between Melody and a man named Brad. He was being… well a douchebag.” Caldwell didn’t see a reason to mince words. He knew what would be happening and it was best to just be honest about things like this.

“Howso?” She asked. Caldwell could feel her mood suddenly swing from happy to cold.

“Scout said he was badgering her about not contacting him after a date. Apparently her friends set her up with him and by the sounds of it Melody was less than impressed. He refused to leave when asked and Scout ended up stepping in between them to de-escalate things.” He could feel the room dropping in temperature the more he talked. “Scout said she had a file made up in case you were interested.”

Caldwell didn’t even get to finish his sentence before Alice was typing away on her phone, probably authorizing whatever payments Scout wanted for the information. After a few minutes she placed her phone down and took another sip of her hot chocolate. She no longer looked like she was enjoying it. Caldwell knew better than to speak unasked when she was in this kind of mood, so he just stood in silence as she waited for a reply.

Eventually her phone made a noise and she rushed to check her phone. She was reading something intently, it was probably the file Scout had referenced.

“Brad Gatlin. Nephew of Damon Gatlin.” It took a moment before she could remember who that was. Brad sounded a lot like him. Damon was some rich hedge fund manager turned Society member. He like to act like he was a big shot, but he wasn’t that far up the ladder. “What matters is Damon is a first generation Society member and Brad’s branch of the family is not part of the Society. Damon has also not paid to place Brad on the list of people we cannot take.”

“Would you like me to contact the usual team?” Caldwell knew what Alice would want. This wasn’t the first time it had happened.

“We still have an open chamber, correct?” The look Alice gave him unsettled him. She could be a very pleasant person. But even she had her moods.

“Yes, Miss Alice. There is one chamber open right now.”

“Then yes.” Alice finished her cup of lukewarm hot chocolate before getting up. “Let them know they’ll get paid double if he’s here tonight.”

{&}

“Where is he? I demand you hand him over!”

Scout rolled her eyes as Damon continued to yell at her. She wasn’t sure who blabbed and told Damon that she was meeting this team at this warehouse, but she’d make them pay.

It had been an uninteresting capture. Just a drunk guy getting pulled into a van and knocked out. She was here to make sure the transfer to Alice went smoothly. Luckily Brad was already hidden away in here before Damon showed up. She had sent a text to Alice, letting her know he had shown up. She hated having to do things like that, bringing up problems or needing assistance meant she might lose some of her pay.

“Mister Gatlin, your nephew is a legitimate capture. You were made aware that, if you want a family member protected, you need to pay to have them put on the list of people the Society won’t capture.” Her patience for idiots like this was always thin and conversations like this just made it thinner.

“Then let me buy him back.”

“Our rules don’t allow you to own a family member. Even if I was the one who now owned him, you couldn’t buy him for me. Get over it.” She turned to walk away, but stopped when she heard a click.

She turned around and saw a gun pointed at her. “Then how about you just let him go?”

Scout sighed. “Mister Gatlin, we can’t let him go. He’s already been captured.”

“The way I see it, if you’re all dead then he’s no longer captured.” Scout could see his hand shaking. He was hesitating.

Scout just sighed again. “I figured you’d be aware an intent to capture was stated to the appropriate people. They know who the team is and who they’re taking. If you kill us you’ll be the first suspect.”

“Shut up!” He yelled at her, waving the gun around.

“Didn’t you buy the woman who was originally supposed to get your job? I would have thought you’d know how this works.” Scout decided to just keep poking at him.

“What would some low rank like you even know? I bet you can’t even afford a slave!”

She was about to make a retort, but she heard a gunshot ring out. But it wasn’t from Damon’s gun. She watched his gun fall to the floor as he yelled and cradled his arm.

A woman walked out of the shadows. She had black hair, blue eyes and was dressed in leather. Scout recognized her instantly and regretted asking for help.

Freya Eberhard. The next in line to be the head of one of the twelve most powerful families in the Society.

And one of Alice’s suitors.

“Damon Gatlin, trying to threaten a fellow member with a weapon is a crime. Your nephew is the property of Alice Barlow now. Because of your decision to break Society rules by trying to stop a legitimate sale and threatening a member, you’ll be taken to one of our prisons to await judgement.” Two men appeared from behind Freya and walked towards Damon. Scout sighed and sat down on a crate. She hated when the enforcers got involved with anything.

Damon didn’t say anything as he was dragged out, but Scout could see the hate he had in his eyes. His judgement would be swift. People like Damon, people who had jobs and lives largely in the normal world, couldn’t vanish for long. Either he’d be let go with a warming and heavily watched or he’d have a drastic punishment. More than likely he wouldn’t get much of a punishment. Scout wasn’t anyone of importance and making Damon disappear was more trouble than it was worth.

Once he was gone, Freya approached Scout. Though, Scout really wasn’t in the mood to deal with her. “Still doing things for Alice, Scout?”

Scout stood up straight and crossed her arms. “As are you.”

“I’m getting paid for it. You are not.” Freya towered over Scout, but if she was easily intimidated she would never have succeeded in this line of work.

“And I don’t like you working for her. You’re just encouraging her. Why not just do what you normally do and stop stalking people for Alice?” She knew Freya was upset with her, she just didn't care.

“The enforcers declared hunting suspended in my favorite cities so I now have to wait for you to lift it.”

Freya exhaled hard through her nose. “Can’t just take a break until they reopen?” A few cracks started to appear in Freya’s cool exterior as she was getting annoyed. “What’s it going to cost me to get you to stop taking work from Alice.”

“Honestly?” Scout hopped off the crate and started to walk away. “I’m not going to accept your money. I’m having fun, plus knowing that you’re upset I’m working for her is a reward in and of itself.”

Scout stopped walking away when two more men walked in, different ones from before. They stood by Freya, awaiting orders.

“About time you showed up. Find Bradly and transport him to Alice Barlow’s estate. I’ll be meeting you there.” Freya turned to leave, but Scout cut her off.

“Excuse me? That’s my job.”

“No. It was the requisition team’s job. And they were compromised and giving away information. Therefore the enforcers will be talking over and transporting the slave to their owner. The appropriate payments will still go to you, I just want to make sure there aren’t anymore incidents. We’ll be looking into the team you hired to figure out how Damon knew the team was waiting here.”

Scout stood to the side, annoyed. This wasn’t a fight she could win, but she didn’t have to help them. It took them fifteen minutes to find where the team had stashed Brad. He had already been nailed into a crate hiding behind some others. She watched them reseal it and carry it out of the warehouse.

“Stop making things worse for Alice, Scout. Maybe her obsession with that chaff will go away eventually if people like you stop feeding it.” She walked out of the warehouse, leaving Scout to pout.

Freya waited for the signal and began to drive. Each car took a different path to Alice’s mansion. Standard procedure to make sure no one was following them. She spent the trip bracing herself for what would probably be another awkward conversation with Alice.

“I need to stop answering her calls.” She said to herself. A reminder that she never followed. Another Friday night was gone doing her job instead of having a life.

[lovemesomesurveys]

Which crayon color is your favorite? Various ones. I don’t have any crayons and don’t feel like looking up the names. Do you like mac & cheese? Yeah. Do you think pandas are cute? ;3 Okay, that’s the 3rd panda question in the past couple surveys I’ve done. Like I said the first time, their eyes creep me out. It’s the same with killer whales. Do you eat meat? Yes. Have you gone Christmas shopping yet? No, I don’t start that until November. I should start sooner. I kinda want to start getting things here and there throughout the year when I see stuff instead of doing it all at the end.

Do you shop on Black Friday? Yeah, but I do it online. And most stores have sales like all month long, so.  What do you dip chicken nuggets in? Ranch. Are you a fan of Taylor Swift? No. Ever had that Deja-vu feeling? Yeah. So trippy. Ever won a spelling bee? I’ve never participated in one. Best room for a fireplace? The living room? Are you missing someone? I’ll always miss my loved ones who have passed. Have you ever / do you celebrate 420? Nope. Who last grabbed your ass? No one. Do you know anyone who's TOO conceited? Yes, actually. Who is the youngest in your family? In my immediate family? My younger brother. Do you go online everyday? Yes. Do you sleep in a bra? No. Has your ex ever gone out with someone close to you? One of them did. Were you jealous? Not at first. In fact, I actually kinda encouraged it. Hanging out with them and seeing them together started to get to me, though. Ever walked into the opposite sex's bathroom on accident? Yes. Can you suggest someone funny on Youtube? :) I think Peter Monn, who is a drama commentator, is pretty funny. Can you do a handstand? No. Sprite or Mtn Dew? Mountain Dew. Do you like reading? I love to read. Is there a light on in the room you're in? Yes. Do you ever lace your shoes upside down? Huh? Do you like Star Wars?! I do. Can you take the truth, no matter what it is? It can definitely be hard hearing and accepting some things. When was the last time you cried? Yesterday. I’m always crying it feels like. Has anyone close to you ever been suicidal? Yes. Have you ever broken someone's heart and didn't care? I’ve broken someone’s heart according to them, but I certainly cared. It wasn’t a good feeling at all. What do you really believe is going to happen in 2012? Nothing happened, surprise, surprise. Are you nervous? Not at this current moment, but yeah about certain things. What kind of car do you drive? I don’t drive. What kind of car do you WANT? *shrug* What color is your hairbrush? Rose gold. Did you eat breakfast this morning? I did. I’ve been having breakfast regularly for the past few months, which is an improvement because that’s a meal I generally skipped. Do you pay attention to how much you eat? Yes, because my weight is an issue. I’m too underweight and my doctors and family all are concerned about it. What are you listening to at this moment? An ASMR video. How long can you stand walking in heels for? I can’t at all. Are you wearing skinny jeans? No, I’m wearing lounge shorts. Who was your most recent call from? My mom. Would you pass a drug test? Yes. Have you ever watched someone die? :/ Yes. I was with my grandpa when he took his last breath.  What are your hobbies? Reading, surveys, coloring... Are you currently 'seeing' someone? Nope. There isn’t anyone I’m talking to or even interested in at the moment. It’s been a few years since the last time, actually. It’s hard for me to imagine finding that again. :/ Are you interested in serial killers and all that? From a psychological aspect. Are your feet small? Yeah. Do you have swagger? xD Nope. Are you wearing a hat? No. Has it snowed yet ?! It doesn’t snow here.  Do you trust people..? Trust isn’t so much the problem, it’s just I have a hard time opening up and expressing myself to others, even those I’m close to.  If you could move away right now, would you? Yes. My family and I would love to right now if we could. Who was the last person in your bedroom, besides you? My mom. What is the 10th picture in your phone/camera of? I don’t feel like checking. Do you watch The Office? Nope. Who is your loudest friend? I don’t have any friends. Are you friends with someone who's autistic? -- Have you ever talked on the phone for more than 5 hours? Not that long, but I actually used to talk on the phone for a few hours with my cousin or friends back in middle school and early part of high school. It shocks me because of how much I hate talking on the phone and have for so long now. Has anyone ever walked in on you having sex? I’m a virgin. Or are you a virgin? Yep. Have you ever had a Bic Mac? I just had my first one two days ago. It's good :) Yeah, many times. I like them as well. Ever heard of Steve the lawn mower guy? :) Nope. Do you own any stuffed animals? I own a shit ton of giraffe stuffed animals and few other kinds. Traffic light turns yellow. Speed up or slow down? Slow down. What's your favorite part about the holidays? Basically everything. I love that time of year. It’s almost timeeee. What are you best at when it comes to sports? Ha, absolutely nothing.

[smarchit]

Flash Dance

EDIT: this is the fic formerly known as "A Little Distraction"

Maxwell Lord was not an easily distracted man. It was how he made it so far in life so quickly. He prided himself on his ability to stay focused, to juggle a million things at once. 

He had assistants for the billion other things, sure, but he liked having his hands full. It kept him busy, kept it so his competitors couldn't say he just sat behind a desk growing roots in his chair. He bounced from board meeting to board meeting to... bored meeting. Not all of them could be exciting (like he was, with that put-on personality). Some of those old fogies from other companies sure knew how to drone. And drone. And drone.

Currently, he was en route to another one of the million meetings he had that week before he had to fly to Gotham next week for... that thing he forgot. 

Maxwell sighed, grabbed his travel mug full of undoubtedly cold coffee and his briefcase before he was headed towards the elevator.

"Karen!" he called out to his assistant as he waited for the doors to open, "I'm headed to the Peterson meeting. I should be back by three, provided his coke dealer came through. Swear to Christ that guy can go through War and Peace in twenty minutes when he's using. If I'm not back by then, wrap up here and then go down to the hotel and make sure the ball room is set up for Friday. I don't want a repeat of last time. And then--"

"Mr. Lord," Karen said softly, "Relax. You've got nothing to worry about. I'll handle everything here. Go to your meeting and try not to fall asleep, okay?" 

She came over and lifted the silver mug from his hands and replaced it with a sleek black one that felt warmer to the touch than the previous one. 

Maxwell nodded his thanks to her and backed into the elevator. 

"I don't know what I'd do without you!" he called out as the doors shut. 

He was on the phone in his limo the second the driver pulled away from the curb. It was constant go go go with Maxwell. It was the life he was used to, the life he'd made for himself. Not that he cared. He didn't have anyone waiting for him at home or anyone to stand up on a date. In fact he --

"Hey, Lawrence!" he called into the car phone when the person on the other end picked up. "Look, tomorrow's meeting, is there any way we can move that up an hour? I have -- Yeah, double booked myself again. No problem. By the way, I was looking at that report your intern filed, what's his name, uh, Simmons. Great stuff. You might have a new partner in a year or two with that kinda research he did--"

Maxwell leaned back in his seat as Lawrence started to brag about his intern's work. His drone would distract him enough from the twenty minutes of traffic he was going to sit through on the way to the Peterson meeting.

His driver turned around to let him know there was some kind of accident on the bridge and they were stuck in traffic. Typical.

Somehow, he and Lawrence got to talking about trade deals and mergers and last quarter's numbers. Maxwell could recite those figures in his sleep -  he was only half paying attention to the call anyway. 

He took a drink from his coffee mug and glanced out the window at the street signs. Review and Winslow Avenue. Movement inside the building on the corner caught his eye and he squinted through the tinted glass of his window to try and make it out. 

A dozen or so young women were dancing in unison, following one woman at the front of the room as she shouted instructions at them. 

Maxwell looked up at the sign above the large window to read the name. Uptown Aerobics. The sign also stated it was a ballet, hip-hop, and zumba studio. 

He glanced back down at the dancers and his eyes locked onto the instructor at the front of the room. 

Her hair was pulled up from her face in a pink sweatband and she was completely oblivious to her voyeur as she instructed her class into their next part of the routine. 

Maxwell reached down to adjust himself in his pants as he watched her unstick her teal leotard from her dance tights. She clapped her hands and walked over to a boom box to press a button as the rest of the girls stretched out their arms and legs. 

He felt dirty as he watched the instructor - like he shouldn't be seeing this. He felt like a peeping Tom, despite the fact anyone could look in and watch. 

"Lord, are you still there?" Lawrence's voice eventually broke through to him. "Hello? Hello?"

"Y-yeah, I'm still here," he stammered. "Sorry, signal isn't good on these damn phones. I'll, uh... I'll call you back later."

He hung up the phone without waiting to hear a reply and turned his attention back to the studio. 

Maxwell watched the instructor, his attention focused on the way she smiled and shouted directions he couldn't hear. He felt himself chub up in his pants despite the fact that he tried very hard to not focus on her leotard or her legs or her chest bouncing beneath the spandex. He couldn't face the judgement if he were to walk into the meeting with a stiff cock. He just couldn't do it.

He regretfully pulled his eyes away from the window and back to his notes from last month's sales. It was agony to read, but it would stop his boner faster than anything else he could think of.

"My sister goes to that studio," his driver said as he tried to strike up a casual conversation with his boss. 

"Huh?" Maxwell muttered as he tried his hardest to sound indifferent. 

"My little sister Vicky, she goes to this studio right here. I remember sitting at her practices before she was old enough to take the bus by herself. She goes to UCLA for ballet now."

Maxwell nodded and glanced at the studio, hoping his acting was good enough to fool his driver.

"Yeah, the original owner died a few years ago. She left it to her neice or something like that. It hasn't been doing well I guess. All those VHS tapes that ladies can order to their houses are putting it out of business, I guess."

"Tapes?" Maxwell watched the instructor with rapt attention.

"Yeah," the driver said. "Ladies can order all these dance routines on tape. It's cheaper than going to a studio I guess."

Maxwell opened his mouth to reply, but the driver spoke again. 

"Oh, Mr. Lord, we're moving again. You might make it to your meeting after all!"

"Great," he muttered, reaching down to adjust himself again.

Two days later, Maxwell Lord surprised everyone by walking to the coffee shop down the street from the office and getting his own coffee. He'd gone under the pretense of wanting to surprise Karen with fancy coffee and pastries for her birthday before she came in, which wasn't a lie. He was feeling particularly generous that week, after all.

After his meeting two days earlier, he had gone back to his office and personally wrote a check for what was quite possibly enough to buy the whole block the little studio was on. He didn't mind. Actually, he was barely paying attention. All he could think about was the young woman from the studio.

He had sent an intern down to the studio with the check in an envelope addressed to the owner. 

So here he was, walking down Review street with a drink carrier and a bag of pastries like he was some snot-nosed intern. He'd hoped no one would notice him as he stood outside the studio windows, watching the early morning class warm up.

A different instructor, blonde, with two-toned eyeshadow, caught him staring. She angrily threw off the headset and stormed over to the door. 

"Hey!" she shouted. "Beat it, you perv! Or I'll call the cops!"

Maxwell reeled. He hadn't even noticed how long he'd been there. Or the fact it may have come through as creepy that he was watching, waiting for a glimpse of the other instructor.

"Did you hear me, creep? I said beat it!" she repeated. She let go of the door to approach him. 

"I-- I'm sorry, I was just--"

"Yeah yeah, I don't wanna hear your weird fetish. Get lost!"

The bell to the studio door tinkled as it opened up again. 

"Laurie? What's going on?" 

Maxwell swallowed thickly. It was the instructor from the other day. 

"Oh, I caught this guy watching the girls," the first girl, Laurie, said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'll talk to him," she replied coolly. "Go back inside, okay?"

Laurie rolled her eyes and walked back inside. "Whatever," she muttered.

The woman before Maxwell glared at him. Her gaze was calculating, as if she were thinking very carefully about what to say next. 

"I know who you are," she hummed.

Maxwell glanced nervously around at the otherwise empty street.

"You don't --- this isn't what it looks like."

"Oh, please," she chuckled. "I know you."

[foodbytesback]

The Good, The Bad, and the What-the-Fuck of Foodie Gift Idea Lists

It’s that time of year again, when we’re forced to ask ourselves “fuck, how does giftgiving work again?”  While the pandemic might have vastly reduced the number of white elephant/secret santa type gift exchanges, if you’re anything like me, you a.) don’t know what to ask for, because you’re an adult and just go buy things when you want them, and b.) your immediate family has no determinable personality so giving an actually thoughtful gift is a nightmare.

Thankfully, pretty much every single website out there has their own holiday gift guide. 

Problem is, I suspect some of these companies just trying to sell us something might be trying to... sell us something.  By which I mean they’re looking to find ways to pawn off their surplus products no one actually wants. And even if that wasn't the case, SOOOOOO many of these lists are mindnumblingly mundane and repetitive (I’m looking at you, every “Men’s Guide” that’s just a bunch of leather wallets, straight razors and beer paraphernalia)  Who’s to say if any of these gift ideas are any good or not?

Me.   Me’s to say.  

So here’s my guide to the holiday gift guides, aiming to show which of these foodie publications is most in touch with what their readers want in a holiday gift.  It may be with noting that none of these sites are really involved with producing the products mentioned and that each list is just things that their writers liked, so, optimistically, there shouldn’t be too much random useless garbage.  Also, uhh, Christmas is Friday.  I’m not saying it’s too late if you’re looking for actual gift ideas, but you’re probably gonna have to pay out the ass for overnight shipping at this point.  This is mostly an exercise in making fun of stuff.

delish

The Good

Bernzomatic Kitchen Torch: I’m 90% sure this is the same model we use at my work, so yes, I will vouch that this is a good torch.  I can’t really think of anything you can use a torch for other than creme brulee, quickly searing tuna tataki, or getting a flambe to start the easy way, but that’s a different matter.

Salvaged Wood Cookbook/Tablet Stand: While the aesthetic of this particular one isn’t really my thing, I will say that a cookbook stand is one of those things that might come in handy on a cramped kitchen counter.  It looks like this one also has a little hole for sticking the charging cable for your tablet through, so that’s a plus. 

The Bad

Cake-in-a-Mug: I remember when cake-in-a-mug became a thing when I was in college.  I remember it never really working as well as promised.  Unless you or the person you’re getting this for doesn’t have an oven, don’t get this.  Especially not for $20.  For half that price you can buy a mug and a whole box of cake mix, and if you want to add a personalized touch you can weigh out the individual cake mix portions for them.

Bacon shirt: It’s not 2010 anymore, you can’t just slap the word “bacon” on a shirt and call it a day.

Churro Maker: This thing looks like a fucking Play-doh extruder.  Churros can be made with a piping bag with a star tip, which are both cheaper and more versatile than this… thing.

Hot Dog Toaster: There’s a reason it’s marked down from $30 to $20, and it’s because it’s a kitchen appliance that does one thing (probably poorly) and will probably just take up space on your counter.

The What-the-Fuck

Sriracha2Go Keychain: Listen, we all love sriracha.  But do you know what’s better than sriracha? Not having 5,000 things on your keychain.  Maybe it’s different for people with purses, but I remember getting a sushi keychain charm a while back that was even bigger than your ordinary piece of nigiri, so after like, 2 days of trying to cram all of that in my pocket I eventually had to take it off.  And really, you can’t go one meal without sriracha? 

Pink Lemonade Candle: I’m putting it here because it’s not even pink.  I’m sick of your lies.

Donut Warming Mug:  This whole thing is a garbage fire. When I went to investigate what sets this apart from just, like, putting a donut on top of a mug, I found that this company hasn’t even set up their domain for their Shopify site, so you couldn’t even buy this if you wanted to.

Final Verdict: 50+ ideas doesn’t mean much when half of it isn’t anything anyone wants.

Food52

The Good

Five Two Silicone Oven Mitts: I (by which I mean my parents) have a pair of silicone pot holders like this, so I can confirm they are some of the better once on the market.  The fact that these are magnetic and can be slapped against any metal surface when not in use intrigues me.

Food52 X Staub Round Cocotte: Ok, so yes, the whole enameled dutch oven craze may be a little overrated.  I have a small Staub that I picked up on sale for $100, and while I’ve only used it a couple of times I do think it was a worthwhile investment.  It’s a good gift idea if you have a rich aunt who wants to know what you want, or something like that.  (Also yes, Food52 is, in fact, the only one on this list where they do have their own store and regularly do collaborations like this.  I’m not saying you have to specifically get the Food52 version or even a Staub, just saying these kinds of dutch ovens are sorta, kind, almost worth the hype.)

Dish Rack With Drain Spout: Yes, this is a very boring gift.  But, it’s also something I would have loved to have at my last apartment.  Maybe more of a housewarming gift than a holiday gift, but I’m feeling generous so I’ll put it under “good.”

The Bad

TRUFF Truffle-Infused Hot Sauce: I just can’t imagine truffle and spicy playing well together.  The person who put it on the list seems to expect this level of incredulousness. Maybe someday I’ll try mixing hot sauce with truffle oil on my own.  But I’m not paying $40-$72 for this. 

The What-the-Fuck

Lovely Taper Candles: That’s not even food related. And it’s literally the first thing they put on the list.  Why.

Final Verdict: A much smaller list, but more quality ideas.  Even if some of them are pushing their own products.

Eater

The Good

BALMUDA The Toaster:  Let’s ignore the fact that this Japanese appliance has the Japanese word for “useless” in its name (oh shit is that a JoJo reference?) A while back I wrote that while I hate most kitchen gadgets, I would, in a heartbeat, jump at the chance to get a home-version of an industrial combi-oven, which can be set to bake, steam, or a hybrid steam/bake setting.  While this unfortunately doesn’t have a full-blown steam setting, it does have a number of different humidity settings to do hybrid steam/baking, so it’s probably the closest we’ll be getting anytime soon.

“In Bibi’s Kitchen” Cookbook plus Spicewalla Spices: The idea of a cookbook bundled with the spices needed to make the recipes is ingenious.   

The Bad

Justice of the Pies “Cutie Pie” Earrings: I will give them some credit, as apparently this is merch from a wildly popular Chicago pie bakery.  If you, like me, didn’t know that, you’d think they were just really fucking ugly earings.

The What-the-Fuck

Laundry Room Studios, the Guest Check Collection: I put this in the what-the-fuck in an endearing way.  Posters of all the Dumb Shit Customers Say™ will always be a perfect gift for anyone who’s worked customer service.  The only downside of these is the fact that they’re all relatively small, at about the size of a standard sheet of paper.

Heliograf Fish-Shaped Light: It’s… a lamp… shaped like a fish… wild.

Final verdict: Still generally good ideas, although a lot of merch for restaurants I’ve never heard of and sorta generic sounding subscription boxes.  

[multishipperlove]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series), Cinderbrush (Web Video) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jamie Wrenly/Cameron Solomon/Aff Flowers/Sasha Murasaki Characters: Jamie Wrenly, Cameron Solomon, Aff Flowers, Sasha Murasaki, Samuel Flowers Additional Tags: Polyamory, Kissing, switching POVs, just general teenage fluff Summary:

Sometimes you defeat some evil cultists who killed the only friend you had, and then your life... just kinda goes on. But at least you get a relationship out of it.

It was Wednesday, Aff's favorite day of the week. Well, besides the weekend maybe, because that meant no school and no people to judge them and their friends for crimes they'd never committed (had even been proven innocent in court for, but apparently a lot of high schoolers didn't care what the court had to say). But Wednesdays were special.

Right after school, Aff would get to collect Cameron from his English class and drive them both back to Diamond's Liquor. Then they'd spend the afternoon working and, because Wednesday was usually the slowest day of the week and their Dad had allowed it, do their homework with Cam as long as there wasn't anything else to do.

So between sweeping the floors and restocking some shelves, the two would sit together behind the counter, doing their best to understand the math problem of the week or to get through a Spanish text neither of them actually knew all the vocabs for. But it helped a great deal with catching up (who knew court dates could force you to miss so many school days) and even Cameron's grades were slowly starting to get better again.

And in the evening, once the shop was locked up for the night, they'd wait for Sasha and Jamie to show up and have a proper date night. Or, as much of a proper date night that four more or less broke teenagers could have. Aff's Dad didn't didn't mind if they took some snacks and drinks from the store, as long as it was all in a reasonable range, and Jamie always brought the weirdest movies to watch.

Most nights, Aff would pile them all up in their truck afterwards and drive them home, but on rarer occasions the others got to stay the night, and that was even better. If they were all a bit tired the next morning because they'd stayed up all night talking, well... the teachers didn't pay a lot of attention to them anymore, so it was fine.

Today was such a sleepover day, and Aff had been looking forward to it since the agreement had been made in their group chat. Granted, Jamie still pretended to have better things to do at times, but they all knew they'd just show up twenty minutes late with a a small collection of DVDs and maybe some liquor, and claim that their plans had been cancelled last minute. So it was all good.

Either way, right now, Aff was still standing outside Cameron's English class, waiting for the teacher to finally end the lesson. They were anxiously tapping their foot on the floor and checking the time on their phone again, when the bell finally rang and the sound of chairs scrapping back and desks being closed erupted from inside, and the door finally opened to the first students pouring out.

Aff stood to the side, letting everyone pass. Cameron had some extra work he'd been meaning to turn in, so they knew he'd take a minute or two longer. But when he finally came out, the smile lighting up his face when seeing Aff definitely made the wait worth it.

“Hey there,” he greeted them, as if they weren't waiting in the same spot every Wednesday.

“Hey! Are you like, ready to head out? Did you get it all settled?” Aff asked, feeling himself immediately mirroring Cam's expression. That smile was infectious.

Cameron rubbed the back of his neck, almost self-consciously, and gave a half-hearted shrug. “Sure, I guess? I'm not sure if it's going to do much for my grade, but at least she let me try, you know?”

“Yeah, I mean, that's good,” they agreed, as they both started to walk towards the parking lot. “I'm sure it's gonna be really good though. Sasha helped you, right?”

“Yeah, I had no idea she was such an English nerd before,” Cam chuckled. “But anyway, enough about that. I don't want to talk about homework for, like, at least another hour.”

“Oh yeah, no, sure, that's cool,” Aff agreed quickly, and then fell quiet for a few minutes, before Cameron struck up a conversation about the football game the coming Friday, and whether or not they were all going to come see him play.

The conversation kept going for a while, jumping from one topic to the next until they actually made it home to the shop. Aff was still feeling giddy, jumping out the truck with a grin and quickly heading inside, knowing that Cameron would be right behind.

“Hey Dad, I'm home!” they called out, dropping their backpack behind the counter and instead picking up the apron they wore for work. A second later, Samuel came out of the storage room in the back, smiling as well as the saw them both.

He pulled Aff into a brief hug, one hand staying on their shoulder even as he pulled back again to greet Cam with a brief nod. “Good to see you two, how was school?” he asked. “Got a lot of homework?”

“Nah, it's fine,” Aff told him quickly. “We totally got the shop covered for the rest of the day, dad, don't worry. We'll be super fine, one hundred percent.”

“True,” Cam added, already pulling his math homework out of his backpack. “No worries Mr. Flowers, same procedure like every Wednesday.”

“I know, I know,” the man sighed, finally taking his own apron off, before focusing on Aff again. “You know I got this appointment in the city today, so I won't be back until later tonight. I worry, 's all.”

Aff faltered a bit at that. They hated how much that lie about the party, all those weeks ago, was still affecting their relationship. But with what had happened, they really couldn't blame their father. It was partly the reason they were taking so many shifts lately, not only as a way to make up for being a horrible child that night, but also for building trust again.

“No, that's fine, I get it,” they replied, with a little less intensity in their voice. “But we're gonna be okay, I swear. We'll just be here all afternoon, and then the others are gonna come by, and by the time you get back we'll all probably be asleep anyway. That's okay, right?”

Their dad was more gentle when he answered, patting Aff's shoulder with an affectionate look. “Of course, you kids have fun. I'll worry regardless, but that's just my job.”

“Sure thing, dad. Love you,” Aff muttered, watching as he went to get his jacket and finally made his way to the door.

“Love you too! Now, Cameron, you take care of he- I mean, them, you hear me?”

“You got it, Mr. Flowers. We'll take care of each other,” Cam called after the man, as he walked out with another smile and a wave. As soon as Samuel was gone, he turned back to Aff, gently nudging their shoulder. “Hey, you okay? You got kinda quiet there.”

“Hmm?” Aff jumped slightly at the contact, but seemed to refocus quickly enough. “Yeah, sure. Anyway, how about you start on math homework, and I will restock a bit before I join you.”

Cameron chuckled, knowing very well where this was going. “Nah, how about I help you first and then we start maths together, because there's no way I'm letting you copy.”

“But you're not even going to get paid for this.”

“I get to spend time with you, don't I.”

*

As expected, the shop stayed rather quiet that day. A few customers came in, but they all knew what they wanted and no one spend more than a few minutes in the shop (people didn't tend to stay and browse anymore, at least not when Aff was on shift. But at least they came at all. At least the middle schoolers hadn't thrown eggs at the store front in three weeks).

At point seven, with the store clean and stocked up and all their homework done, Aff locked up, and the two of them headed upstairs to the small apartment instead. Sometimes Sasha was early, and spend the last half an hour or so in the shop with them, but today they were still on their own, which gave them the privilege to choose snacks for the group.

“Okay, whatcha got?” Cameron asked, waiting for Aff to raid the kitchen cabinets.

“Uh, okay, so,” they started to mutter again, looking through some cupboards and shelves as they talked. “We got, like, two bags of doritos, and there's probably some salsa in the fridge from last week... I also know that my dad bought like a bunch of frozen pizzas because they were on sale, so we got those.”

Cam grimaced a bit, but made sure Aff couldn't see his reaction. Sometimes he really wished they could do this at his house instead. He wasn't actually complaining, just being here with the others was the most important thing anyway, but it could have been even better if his parents didn't suck as much. Or Sasha's, for that matter.

He didn't know too much about Jamie's parents. They seemed to have a good enough relationship with their mom, but still didn't like bringing people over when she was home. So they always ended up at Aff's place, which was small and a little bit crammed, and there were still some boxes they and their father had never bothered to unpack, but it was homely. A save haven, really, especially since he and Sasha tried to spend as little time with their parents as they possibly could anyway.

So instead of wishing for something that wouldn't come true anyway, Cam took the doritos that Aff was holding out, picked up some drinks, and dutifully carried it all into the living room. Just as he was setting stuff down again he heard the doorbell ring, Aff sliding down the corridor and hurrying down the stairs again a second later... and then downstairs, he could make out Sasha's and Jamie's voice after the door opened. Instead of running down as well he waited upstairs though, claiming the best spot on the couch while he still could.

Sasha was the first to join him again, rolling her eyes at first when she saw him spread out in front of the TV already. “Should have known I would find you like this,” she muttered, but walked over to kiss him anyway when he opened his arms for her with a smile. Cam didn't even try to reply anything, seeing as he was quickly getting lost in their little make out session. His hand was just starting to wander up her shirt when he heard someone clear their throat behind them though, and only then did he break apart from her again and turned his head with a sheepish grin. “What?”

“How rude of you to start without us,” Jamie told him, managing to hold the disgruntled facade for all of three seconds before simply coming to join them on the sofa. They both got an uncharacteristically chaste kiss before the witch started to unpack the bag they had with them, placing a few different movies on the coffee table in front of them.

“So what's it gonna be today? I got the original Texas Chain Saw Massacre, Lesbian Vampire Killers, or the first Final Destination movie.”

Aff came back just as Jamie was listing their choices, and wrapped their arms around them from behind before getting a better look at the covers. To all of their endless delight, Aff was a total noob when it came to movies, and even the classics were able to draw entirely new reactions out of them.

But before Cam could suggest Final Destination, Sasha made a disapproving noise, a slight scowl on her face. “I don't know about you, but I'm not in the mood to watch teenagers die due to paranormal circumstances. I think I've had enough of that for the next few years.”

“That's fair,” Jamie admitted, looking down again as well. “It's all I brought with me, though.”

“We could log into my parent's Netflix, I'm pretty sure they're both busy tonight,” Cam offered, pulling Sasha a bit closer as he did so. She leaned into him easily, and he slowly felt her body relax again.

“Yeah, Netflix sounds good,” Aff agreed, climbing over the back of the couch now to worm his way between Jamie and Cam. It worked somehow, despite how freakishly tall they were getting, but after about a minute of shifting around and some complaining here and there, they found a position that was comfortable for all of them. “Are you sure your parents won't notice? You know, it would suck if you'd get in trouble again, so, only do it if you're like absolutely sure.”

“Yeah, sure, it's gonna be fine,” Cam assured them, sounding maybe a little bit more confident than he really felt. But his father was supposed to work late, and his mom had told him she'd be out with friends herself, so he just hoped none of them would change their plans last minute.

Everyone else seemed convinced, so within a few minutes they had Aff's old ass laptop up and running, and connected to the TV. After that it only took a minimal amount of more bickering before they finally settled on a movie, a mindless horror comedy that they could make fun of along the way. It was exactly what all of them needed at the moment.

*

Aff ended up being right, too.

When Samuel came home eventually, close to one am, he found all four of them fast asleep in the living room. Still in their day clothes, all of their accessories, hats, and glasses carelessly piled on the coffee table, along with some empty dorito bags and soda cans. And the situation on the couch wasn't any better, it was hard to tell where one body ended and another begun.

Deciding that he would leave them to regret those sleeping positions in the morning, the man just did his best to cover everyone with a blanket and then headed to bed himself. If there was anything he was thankful for, in these last few trying months, it was the three strange children currently sleeping in his apartment, and whatever it was that Aff saw in them.

They were happy, after all, and that was all that mattered.

[popculture-etc]

Kenny Rogers, Adam Schlesinger,...coping with 2020

Worst year ever although there were some good.

It’s too early yet for me to do a quick look back on what 2020 is like here as we’re only going to be in the first of December tomorrow (it’s Nov 30 here) but I just have to as two losses this year broke me. Kind of, well, especially the second one.

You see, before East Asian pop, Jpop and Kpop, Western pop culture was my thing. It still is and this pandemic has made me go back to that recently starting with...the Beach Boys (their westcoast sound caught me, hook, line, and sinker and I wasn’t very fond of the Beatles to begin with...to be completely honest) I’m currently chillin’ to right now, as I write this post. I’m really weak to the westcoast sound. Beach sound/s in general, rather. I’m a big fan of the beach where nature goes, for one. Since some time, a few years ago, deep chill and tropical house music has been my go-to when I want to chill or calm myself down after an outburst of sorts and I put them on when I just feel meh, especially on Fridays. When I dream of being by the sea, the beach or in some island on my own. I live in a country with a lot of beaches and the Visayas here is basically island region Philippines, lol. Like most people, I listen to music according to mood just like the way I dress according to mood. And...it’s no wonder, really that I’m so into the Beach Boys now. RIP the Beatles. My dad played some songs of theirs on the guitar or so but the hold they have on me waned later on and I just think now how overrated they were back then. They did have good songs but when talking of good music, as in really good that it retains the same sound style or so, it’s the Beach Boys for me. Brian Wilson is the man despite his issues and personal struggles.

Anyway, we’re going quickly off tangent. I’ll save the Beach Boys fangirling for another day. lol.

I grew up with western pop culture rife all around me thanks to my American, cowboy country and folk music listening dad, my Carpenters-loving mom and then, college-aged aunts who’d made me see the Titanic film more than my fingers could count---the third is clearly an exaggeration but well...some of it is true and they were why I got into American films like Pretty Woman (we have this in good ol’ VHS in our family home, my grandparents’ in Jasaan), Mannequin, Ghost etc. in the late 80s, coming into the early 90s. So, tired of all the kdrama and uninteresting kvariety shows on tvn and the rebranded local channel, Kapamilya (long story for what we formerly know as ABS-CBN, the nation’s a mess right now and our gov’t’s just...ick!), I’d retreated to my cave and got into old tv shows I’d watched as a kid instead like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Charmed and it’s been, well, moving on from there. I’m checking out Twin Peaks later. I’ve been watching old Hollywood films too. Some revisits on this include: Casablanca, Gone With The Wind, and especially A Streetcar Named Desire will always and forever be my favorite. Very young and cute and good looking Marlon Brando, ugh. I have some others in the stash which include Bonnie and Clyde I’ll be getting into much, much later, maybe over the weekends and holidays. In sum, I have a long history with western pop culture, especially America’s, more than I have with Japan’s and South Korea’s. The latter being very, very recent so it doesn’t really compare as much.

Let’s get right down to it...

So 2020 had us lose Kenny Rogers to natural causes on March 20 in a hospice and after, Adam Schlesinger to COVID 19 complications on April 1. I know the latter as the songwriter of The Wonders’ That Thing You Do from the film sharing the same song title. I know Kenny Rogers well because my dad listens to him over and over in the car. In pretty much the same way, I know the words to Islands in the Stream by heart and I accept and revere it as one of the best, if not THE BEST country-pop duet songs of all time between Kenny and Dolly Parton...as far as country and pop music in the US of A’re concerned, of course. Miley and Shawn Mendez’s cover of it I’d seen recently was alright but nothing still beats the OG one, as always. With music, it’s just, really always the case.

Kenny departing from us March this year was alright. He was well cared for in a hospice and at the right age too, to leave us and this mess of a world behind for the afterlife. Sounds grim but not really. Heh. He died of natural causes so we know he was at peace and accepted then that his time has come. Fans and long-time listeners of his should also be at peace with this knowledge. I don’t consider myself a fan but since he’s been around so much because my dad plays his songs in the car often, I’m the same. I’ve accepted his passing away early this year. He’s lived his life well and given us good music to listen to should we like to remember him and his works and celebrate his life and legacy doing so.

Schlesinger’s case was way worse because, well, COVID 19. And it’s well...I guess we all saw it coming, me included, that I’d just learned, watching the one of many national English news on ANC that ‘pandemic’ is the word of the year according to Merriam-Webster. Timely, huh? Yep. Predictable, really. Sarcasm noted here.

So if someone ever asks what 2020 was about, we only have to say that according to Merriam-Webster, it’s the global (COVID 19) pandemic. Short, not-so-sweet, succinct, and grim. Yep.

This one, Schlesinger’s case, is something I still find difficult to accept. He was only 52 years old! He was at the prime of his life and had some projects still he was working on at the time of his passing so WHY?! I suppose that’s all of us who followed him and his extensive work on tv, film, the stage and his own band, Fountains of Wayne when we heard news he’s passed away due to COVID 19 complications. It’s definitely me now though I learned of it late. Heh.

To cope with the sadness of losing Schlesinger, gone too soon at 52 years old and with an impressive Hollywood tv, stage, film resume to his name since and his own band’s, Fountains of Wayne (FoW) really good discography, by the way, I’ve been listening to FoW’s Welcome Interstate Managers---all of the contents of said album/record---and That Thing You Do’s OST with the Beach Boys’ Sounds of Summer Best of in between. My favorite song on Welcome Interstate Managers is the sarcastic take on real life as an everyday worker in sales, Bright Future in Sales. As much as I like chill sounds where music goes, I like me some music with lyrics jolting us back to grim reality in much the same way I like films (indies, mostly, or lesser known short and full-length ones) that tackle social issues not frequently discussed in public or so but we are aware are there, still plaguing much of today’s society. I live for cynical, satirical, ironic, and even hyperbolic stuff about real life actually. It may be why I’m so entrenched and attached to the era where we all hated ourselves---the 90s. Although one would say much of that sentiment or feeling did carry itself to the 2000s, though. I don’t know about you, but until now, I still hate or have heavy dislike for myself and everything else around me, especially our gov’t or current admin here in the Philippines, and people in general so I don’t think it ever really goes away. And going off tangent again for the nth time today.

Anyway, my 1996 was That Thing You Do on HBO in our household...on and off along with other 90s films like The Craft, Clueless, Jawbreakers (I think this still plays in Cinemax from time to time) so of course losing Schlesinger also was...rather, is hard. He’s done so much and he was supposed to be working on more and he’s left such a deep mark here for us, avid fans of American pop culture...I suppose, even the casual ones. Aside from his That Thing You Do, I’d also seen Josie and the Pussycats at some point. I don’t remember when, where...though I did watch some episodes of the cartoon on Cartoon Network (CN) so of course, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen the film of it as well. He worked on a track or some tracks there, too. 

2020 sucks. COVID 19 sucks. This global pandemic sucks. But at least there’re films, tv shows, music, stage musical plays turned movies (Jonathan Larson’s Tick, Tick...Boom! is coming to us soon with Andrew Garfield in the lead---I’m wary of Garfield being a forgettable actor since The Amazing Spider Man because Dane Dehaan was what made that for me, to be quite honest so I’m not so sure of him being Jon here and as a self-respecting Larson fan since Rent, I’d rather they casted Neil Patrick Harris/NPH since he was in the London stage for this way back anyway...) to keep us entertained and fine until then. What would it take for ‘rona, and I’m not talking about the American Corona beer here that’s really popular in the west coast, to go away? I, like the rest of you in self isolation or quarantine, tend to think so but I don’t think we’ll have any answer to that until the vaccines are well underway by spring next year. Or at least, that’s what health authorities and scientists tell us anyway. I get reminded of it often in the news and I only tune in to that once in a while now because even that, following that daily, breaks my mental faculties down due to stress and pressure and all and I can’t have that when I still have so much, at the back of my mind, to do.

But anyway, time to conclude this one with one of my favorite The Wonders songs, All My Only Dreams just to end on a good note, better than the last paragraph’s ending at least and to remember Schlesinger as well that we’d lost this year along with plenty others we’d met in passing who’ve also left this world especially due to COVID 19 complications. I know we know a lot of those. For me, it’s a distant relative or family member I’d known since young but don’t have particular fluffy bunny feelings for because of some things that happened between the guy and me growing up in the NCR/Caloocan City to be exact. There’s also my good friend and former co-worker’s only remaining parent, her dad and a few more, I’m sure. So I hope 2021 would be better but I doubt it...very much. It’s still looking pretty dim, grim and bleak from here, where I’m currently standing in 2020.

Before we really end though, COVID 19 is definitely not a hoax. It hasn’t been since the first cases started in Wuhan, China. It’s just, only been getting worse and still continue to claim lives and spread to more people even those at home. So as someone who comes from a household of mostly medical workers or health care workers here, we should really be very careful about and around it. Let’s take the necessary health protocols seriously like wearing a mask out and maybe the face shield too and always keeping the sanitizers, alcohols in our bags among others---hygiene and sanitation, disinfection. It may come off really anal of me and I am not anal (I don’t like people with Type A personalities in the first place, lol...I’m just a very cautious Virgo, really, and a Type X---mix of Type C and D personalities) but seriously, SERIOUSLY, I can’t stress this enough, COVID 19, the virus SARS-COV2, that causes it is real. Very real and once it’s in your system, it can go the fatal, deadly way or just the mild and you’ll recover later anyway way. It’s not picking which people should die next and which should not, really. It’s really just there making a mess of things that are already messy since the beginning. My point being, it’s just better if we don’t spread it or are careful enough not to contract it with following health protocols set by health experts, scientists to help us get by this...pandemic. 

Well here’s to 2020 being over soon and 2021 creeping in on us soon enough. 

P.S.

Billie Armstrong of Greenday upped a cover of That Thing You Do as a tribute to Adam and the youtube live of the Wonders coming together again to pay tribute to and celebrate Adam’s life may still be up on the ‘tube. I have yet to see the latter but enjoyed the former. They are just so...sweet and precious. Ugh. Adam Schlesinger, gone too soon indeed. :(

PPS

Another songwriter/contributor in the TTYD OST passed away last year, too. Rick Elias. Cause of death is brain cancer. I had a friend from college, young and so full of life and dreams, who passed away due to the same thing so I’m kind of aware how this goes. Ugh. Cancer sucks. All of these are just so...sad. Depressing, actually.

[cesium-sheep]

see, whenever I want to buy something it’s this whole fucking calculus because I only get $30 a week and anything on top of that I scraped together from some “““““side hustle”““““ that pays like a dollar an hour.

I’ve been wearing my hat a lot the past couple days and definitely need to jump The Hat to the top of the priority list. that’s $40+tax. which I can afford next week because I have $35 from sticker sales (check out my kirblog :v ) on top of my $30 allowance. BUT an artist I follow has a darling bear plush going up for preorder on friday, which is $30+tax. so even with sticker preorders I would have to choose between them.

EXCEPT I finally reached the $20 minimum on transcribeme (audio transcription, highly variable availability/quality) to cash out again, so I cashed that out and it will probably arrive late next week. that means I can afford both The Hat and loomi bear preorder.

PLUS I checked on a whim and finally have enough points for a $25 gift card from nielsen (passive generation, cash out ~2x yearly), and happen to have an extra $14 worth of points saved up on swagbucks (survey points, occasional afternoon of grinding for a dollar or two).

SO.

I am cashing out all my income pools (minus patreon (check out my kirblog lol) which I cashed out a couple weeks ago to get a game during an autopay week, but which will also be growing much faster now!! 4 whole patrons, 20 whole dollars!!!), so they will all be empty and I don’t have any backups if my brain throws a tantrum about having no money again. (altho patreon refills on monday actually. it’s not set up to auto-deposit yet.) but I will be able to afford The Hat next week, without missing out on bear preorders, and probably even get some comics I’ve been staring at enviously too. (mana put out a new monster ex girlfriends way back in like fucking november, and worvies who is a very good narumitsu artist put out a 7-year-gap era doujinshi last week.) maybe I’ll have leftovers to roll into the following week for once ;n; (or maybe I’ll buy a new fucking computer mouse, the scroll wheel is acting up really bad today.)

I only have to do this for another 18 months max. arin already did the math and she can afford to give me double the allowance mom is currently giving me basically starting from her first paycheck, and by then my VA appeal will have processed so I might not even need allowance. tbh that would be the ideal. but even if they reject me again, my allowance still doubles in 18 months. I am starting to come around to the fact that yes even with bills and groceries already squared $30 a week “left over” for *everything* else would be a pittance for anyone. everyone deserves more than that including me.

[grifalinas]

All right, so while I wait for my pants to wash let’s get this written up. This is what I’ve been dealing with for the past week and a half, and why I haven’t been on Tumblr much lately + haven’t had much emotional energy for much of anything when I am. With apologies that this is going to get long and I don’t expect everyone to read it, but I need to write it up and put it out there. I’ll try to specify which things are my own personal account and what is second-hand information and what is mere speculation, to avoid sensationalizing.

Before going in, a couple things to know about how Shoe Dept (and Shoe Show in general) employees get paid: we work on commission; there’s a formula for working out the exact balance of wage and commission but it’s easier to think of it as wage or commission, with checks being paid in commission unless you would be making less than minimum wage, at which point they pay you minimum wage and make it subtly clear to you that they don’t feel you’ve earned that difference.

Commission rate is seven percent of total sales, but after ninety days in employment, you take a test to become “cfs certified”, which means you’ve supposedly been trained to use a brannock device and fit shoes as well as get them. Our training amounts to reading a pamphlet and taking a test, but once you have that certification you get nine percent commission on sales of children’s shoes on days you’re acting as cfs. 

This doesn’t sound like much but this adds up over time. It’s the difference between selling a hundred dollars worth of shoes and you get seven dollars of that vs nine dollars- sell a thousand dollars worth of shoes, you get seventy dollars vs ninety dollars; ten thousand in sales, and- well, you get the idea. That two percent makes a big difference if you’re good at what you do.

(If you’re doing the math, yes, this means that we have to average about a hundred and twenty dollars in sales an hour just to make minimum wage, which is easy if we’re busy but not so easy if the store is dead. I’ll get back to this in a minute, so let’s stick a pin in it for now.)

The other thing you need to know is that we were closed for about five weeks in March/April due to the pandemic, and received base wages during that time. After talking to my boss repeatedly about the situation, she finally referenced it as “when they were paying us to sit at home doing nothing”, though I don’t know if that was her words or our dm/rm’s. It does, however, reflect the attitude of the company toward its employees so the exact source feels irrelevant.

So here’s what happened:

In March, just before the shut down, cfs commissions were removed from our wages. We were eventually told this was “temporary” and a response to the pandemic, but even if it was fair to start cutting wages on the bottom where people make the least anyway, we were not informed of this. There was a change made to how the keyholders and store manager got their salaray; I don’t fully understand the change because I don’t fully understand how their pay works (which is different than ours).

Our DM has insisted that he told our store manager about the change, our store manager has said she heard only about the change made to management. I believe her, and even if she is lying, it’s on the dm to produce a paper trail to prove that he informed her. That’s the sort of thing that should be communicated directly from payroll to the employees but even if you must go through the chain of command, it should be sent in official documentation, not mentioned in a phone call that can be easily misunderstood. Therefore, even if the dm DID tell the boss and the boss forgot, it’s still on the DM.

Of course, during the shut down, we were getting “base pay”, which is to say they averaged out our weekly hours (between twenty and thirty-five; my weekly average is usually 29-34 depending on which shifts I work) and paid us minimum wage based on that. This, at least, is somewhat fair; they’re continuing to pay us, and if we’re not getting sales then we don’t get commission. Losing that extra money hurt a lot of us, but the arrangement was at least understandable from that perspective.

So when we came back after the shut down, we were not aware that we had ceased cfs commissions and would not be getting the full amount of our sales that we expected.

Fast forward to a week ago. One of our coworkers was checking on payroll the night before our checks were set to come in, and noticed a huge discrepancy in her expected pay and her received pay. Having brushed off past errors because they were relatively small amounts, she was not going to allow several hundred dollars to go missing from her check without asking some questions. (The amount I was told was four hundred; this was anecdotal, so I don’t know if she was estimating, and if so whether she was rounding up or down. Either way, keep this number in mind.)

Our coworker goes into work that day and raises sand at our boss, who raises sand at payroll, trying to find out what happened and where her money went. The rest of us had also been shorted a lot of money, which you can understand made us very unhappy.

There were about two days where all this was going down that I only know everything through scuttlebutt, as I did not work the same shift as my coworker and boss and had to hear everything second (and third and fourth) hand. What came down to us through the grapevine was that they were taking our hourly wage out of our commission and only paying us beyond that; this was misinformation based on none of us fully understanding the formula that determines how we get paid + one of our keyholders being the sort to sensationalize things to make them sound worse.

However, this was enough to get all of us riled up, and start speculating about leaving the company, if they didn’t want to pay us anymore. (For clarity, this would mean that any time we were working without getting sales would be for free.) I went to bed last Friday night thinking that this had to be a misunderstanding and that I would talk to my boss in the morning before open to find out what exactly was going on, and woke up the next morning knowing that it probably was a misunderstanding but that even so, unless the misunderstanding was “we were trying to pay you more and messed up big time”, I would not be continuing to work at Shoe Dept.

So I went in Saturday morning (my day off) before open to talk to my boss, and got the information straightened out. Essentially, the missing money was due to a payroll error; in all of my discussions with my now-ex boss over the past week I was never able to get a straight answer about what the error was or where it originated. This could very easily be due to my boss not being given that information and just as easily be part of her habit of misdirecting and obfuscating rather than give us straight answers. Either way, all of us were shorted our commission pay for the week, but at the time our coworker noticed the error and started raising sand, corporate insists they were already fixing it, and we did indeed get a second check that week.

We were not informed that this was going on and there was no attempt at communication at any point. Coworker also says that while Boss was on of the phone with Payroll, Payroll asked if Coworker was there and then declined speaking to her when Boss said “Yes she is, would you like to speak with her”. Coworker believes this was due to an intention of giving misinformation to Boss; this is merely speculation and in my case second-hand information, so I cannot say for sure, only that, again, this reflects corporate’s attitude toward its employees.

Now, I would be pretty willing to forgive an error that was fixed if there’d been any transparency. We’re human, even the people at corporate, and mistakes happen. If we’d received a notification through the company app, or even a message through the chain of command, that there was a payroll error but they caught it and were sorting it, just sit tight, we’ll still get our money, apologies for the issue, I would be pretty understanding. Like yeah, sometimes shit happens, thanks for getting it sorted out so promptly.

But there was no transparency. No attempt at communication. They just did it, and then along with not saying anything about it to us and hoping we didn’t notice, tried to obfuscate when our coworker started asking questions. Management insists that it was already being taken care of by the time Coworker noticed, so when Boss and Coworker called Payroll, Payroll should have said “this is what happened, this is the situation as we currently stand, this is what we’re doing to fix it” with no hemming and hawing at any point.

We did get our money though. Well, mostly. Remember that four hundred that Coworker was missing? She got about about two thirty of it. At least part of the discrepancy can be chalked up to the second check being taxed, but that’s almost half of the money gone- doing the math, it added up to less than three hundred that they sent her.

Well, do the math, where did the hundred some odd go?

This is how we found out we weren’t getting cfs commissions anymore.

So for the past few weeks while we’ve been open, we haven’t been getting cfs commissions despite still having a cfs on every shift. When you’re cfs, Boss ensures you’re the only one or at least the main one if we’re too busy that gets children’s sales. The discrepancy was almost accounted for with that in mind, once she and Boss sat down to do the math.

Almost.

Coworker is very insistent that the numbers still don’t add up and, again, I believe her. I can’t prove it, and she offered me nothing but her own accounting, but I still believe her. I worked at Shoe Dept, Encore for going on four years (four years in July) and corporate have always been shady and underhanded in how they deal with their employees. The only reason I stayed as long as I did was that any other retail position would be a lateral move where I got paid less, and I had plans to move to Oregon that involved staying where I was until I saved up enough. But I don’t fuck with people who fuck with my money, so I’ll figure something out.

Some additional information:

I mentioned “hours we work where we don’t get sales” a couple times up there. Part of this was simply hours when the store was dead, often late in the evening or early in the morning. Sales at the latter half of the morning shift and early half of the evening shift could usually be counted on to cover the slower hours so that we still averaged out a hundred twenty in sales per hour, so that part isn’t too much of a bother.

What messes us up are when we have to come in during hours we’re closed in order to run in stock. Policy at the store (I don’t know if this is company wide) is that on Sundays, if the truck (truck comes Tuesday) isn’t completely run into the wall, sales come in Sunday morning at nine (sometimes eight, if we’re very very busy or there’s a lot to do) and run the shoes in until it’s done. If you’re scheduled to be off that day, you still have to come in, and if it’s done by break time (eleven thirty, hour long break, back at twelve thirty, we open at one) you get to go home and enjoy the rest of your day off. If you work that day, you get to stay in the store and work a regular shift on top of the half-shift you just worked.

If the running doesn’t get done, you come back at twelve thirty and keep running until it is, even if that means staying until close (and often, keep running while the shift sales clean up the store, and leave when we do). 

During the shorter hours we worked just after the shut down, we came in Tuesday night at six, put out the entire truck, and started running, and left at eleven. If you were off that day, you worked a five hour shift. If you closed that day, you worked your usual shift plus another five hours. If you opened that day, you were still expected to come back in the evening. And then the next morning, if it wasn’t done, we came in at eight and worked until open. Regardless of our schedule.

This was done this way for two weeks, the third week it was “if you close, you stay till eleven, if you open, you come in at eight”, and by the fourth week we were back to normal hours. “Till eleven” and “eight until” is still in place for anyone on the schedule for that day as of this past Tuesday and Wednesday.

Are you furious yet? You should be, because if you’re paying attention you’ve realized that this was not scheduled into our workweek. We had to do this DURING OUR SCHEDULED TIME OFF. So a Sunday morning running shift was still counted toward your days off for the week, even if you’re working from eight am to seven in the evening with an hour break for lunch (which is usually the case during styling change).

And if you complain? “Get the running done during the week and you won’t have to be here Sunday :)”.

Easy enough, right? Maybe during the slow times when we have little business and the trucks average between a hundred to a hundred and fifty cases, sometimes dipping down as low as seventy or even sixty if we’ve been really slow. During the busy time of year, when we’re already pulling extra hours as is, and doing enough they can justify sending us upwards of two hundred cases, and we’re too busy taking care of customers to even keep the store clean on shift, putting us even later getting home? Even during styling change, when we needlessly flip our stock around to account for seasonal changes even though the store isn’t big enough for the science behind stock placement to have any effect whatsoever and it would make more sense to leave things where the customers and employees are used to looking for them?

Even if it’s a pretty much guarantee, no way out of it, that we’ll have to be there that Sunday, it’s still not planned into our shifts for the week, and during busy times, when we only get one day off a week more often than not, this can mean coming in for ten or eleven hours on your only day off.

:)

Another thing, as long as I’m complaining: sometime last fall I was put in a supervisory position for running in women’s section. This meant that, on top of my usual duties, I was expected to also make executive decisions about how the running was done, ensure that my crew did their work, and make sure any new crew members learned how to do the running properly, since training methods are honestly a joke at Shoe Dept. This was a lot of extra work to put on me, but to be honest I didn’t mind. It was stressful at times, but I actually enjoyed it! The logistic puzzle of getting the shoes in efficiently while asking as little of my crew as possible and making sure they got more Sundays off than they didn’t or at least got to go home at lunchtime if they had to come in, actually ended up helping me keep my brain more in order than before.

BUT. Much as I enjoyed the work, this was effectively a promotion that was not official in any written capacity and did not garner me extra money. It also put me in a position to have to tell my coworkers, my crew, what to do, and, because of the way I approached all of my extra work, it at times appeared to them that I was doing less, which caused a strain between myself and my coworkers at times.

I could go on and on about all the bullshit I’ve had to deal with from Shoe Dept, but honestly it’s going to start descending into pettiness after this and I have to go run errands soon, so I’m going to stop now. This is just a write up of what happened recently re: our payroll, an explanation of why I quit my job without lining up another one first, and hopefully an understandable reason I've elected to keep my blog space free of current events. (Your morality isn’t determined by whether you reblog a tumblr post, but hopefully you can at least understand why my blog space has just been the odd shitpost and reacting to Digimon instead of reblogging things relevant to the world being on fire. I may loosen this now that I have more energy to direct toward vetting posts before reblogging them, though. We’ll see.)

[etherealwaifgoddess]

Maybe I Am? - Chpt.2

Characters: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Steve takes a risk and the guys go out on a “date”. Master list HERE

Content Warning: first “date” cuteness, making out 

Word Count: 2.5k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Today is one of those days where I am eternally grateful for having a “draft” option. Because honestly, ya girl is exhausted. So yay for drafts! Enjoy chapter two. I’m honestly too tired to give ya’ll a better note right now. :-\   XOXO - Ash

Chapter Two

Steeeeve [9:32:08PM]: Hey, it’s Steve.

Bucky Barnes [9:32:47PM]: hi steve

Steeeeve [9:33:15PM]: I had a lot of fun meeting up today.

Bucky Barnes [9:33:39PM]: me 2

Steve huffed staring at Bucky’s second generic response. He was usually so much more lively. Steve took a long sigh and started texting what he needed to get off his chest.

Steeeeve [9:35:21PM]: I’m sorry if I came off as confused or misleading. 

Steeeeve [9:35:26PM]: I didn’t mean to do that. But I am kind of confused right now. 

Steeeeve [9:35:35PM]: I spent so much time liking the idea of you, and you in real life was even more amazing than I could have expected. But I’ve never dated a guy before and I never expected to want to. And now I think I do. 

Steeeeve [9:35:49PM]: I’m sorry. This probably isn’t any less confusing. I’m apparently really bad at this lol. I guess what I’m trying to say is, will you go out on a maybe-date with me? I want to try and see how I feel. I don’t want to string you on, but I want to try.

Bucky stared at the flurry of texts coming into his phone. Damn, serial texter much? He read and re-read Steve texts a few times, chewing nervously his bottom lip, trying to find a response. He wasn’t willing to let his heart get trample on again, not after Brock. But he really liked Steve and if there was a chance Steve might like him too, it was too good to pass up. He had a distinct feeling he was going to regret it, but he tapped out the only honest response he could think of.

Bucky Barnes [9:44:13PM]: i like u 2 steve. i get that ur confused. lets try ur maybe-date and see how it goes? if it goes well cool, if not no hard feelings. k?

Steeeeve [9:45:20PM]: Thank you. Really, thank you for being so great about this. Can we get dinner one night this week? 

Bucky Barnes [9:45:55PM]: im free any nite but tues

Steeeeve [9:46:10PM]: I can do Friday night around 7. There’s a really great Mexican place a few blocks over from the gym if you’re willing to schelp all the way over to Park Slope. 

Bucky Barnes [9:46:31PM]: sounds good. see u then

Bucky sighed, putting his phone away into the pocket of his favorite old hoodie. He had a date. A maybe-date, but for some reason that felt good enough for him at the moment.

xxXxx

Steve discovered the best part of being able to text Bucky wasn’t just that their chatting was no longer limited to when they were both near a computer, but that they now had a full range of emojis, memes, and GIFs at their disposal. He could now send Bucky random funny things he found during the day and he felt a little proud when Bucky would send back a string of laughing emojis, knowing he had brightened the other man’s day a little. He had worried with their maybe-date looming things might be a little awkward but if anything they were going even better. By the time Friday came Steve was genuinely looking forward to their maybe-date. He had even gone out on Wednesday before his shift at the gym to pick up a set of clothes that were distinctly not gym wear. He couldn’t remember the last time he bought a button up shirt but he had to admit the blue and white checked shirt looked nice on him. He was trying not to stress over the maybe-date but he felt this gnawing need to know, definitively, if he was truly interested in Bucky, or just the fantasy of WinterBae. 

Steve raced home Friday to shower and change, hoping he’d left himself enough time to do all that and still make it over to Los Aztecas in time. Taking the time to slick back his hair and do a quick shave, Steve was hustling out the door only to realize he’d forgotten the bottle of wine once he got outside. After a fast double back for the wine he was on his way, making it to the tiny authentic Mexican restaurant with three minutes to spare. He had barely stopped walking when he saw Bucky hopping out of an uber. Steve felt a little flutter at the sight of Bucky and he took it as a good sign. 

Bucky looked amazing in his dark skinny jeans and a silky looking black shirt. A minimalist necklace was around his throat, the simple bar resting just below the wings of his collarbones. Steve noticed Bucky had swapped out the cheery beaded bracelets he’d worn on Sunday for a set of sleek silver and leather ones. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine and Steve felt ridiculous in what Sam had teased was his bible salesman outfit. 

“Heya.” Bucky greeted warmly, extending an arm for a half hug.

“Hey,” Steve echoed, hugging back with his free hand. “Ready for the best Mexican food of your life?” 

“Definitely, let’s go.” 

Steve led Bucky inside the little restaurant, its cozy decor making the place feel intimate instead of cramped. Steve had called ahead for reservations so they were whisked off to a table as soon as he gave the concierge his name. Bucky was looking around fascinated, taking in all the colorful decorations. 

“It’s really something, huh?” Steve prompted with a smile.

Bucky nodded in agreement, “Yeah, it’s beautiful. So much art packed into so little space. Thanks for bringing me here, Steve.” 

“It’s one of my favorite places in the area, mostly for the tacos but also for the art. I got my degree in fine art before I switched gears and went back to get certified in exercise science.” 

“That’s quite a switch.” Bucky laughed.

“Art will always be my first love, but it’s not exactly profitable. And once I got healthier I knew I wanted to help other people do the same. I was really sick as a kid and didn’t hit any major growth spurts until I was almost 21. After that, I worked out a lot getting used to my new body and fell in love with the gym.” 

“Wow. I’m glad you were able to get healthier, and it’s sweet you’re trying to give back to others with that.” 

“Do you go to a gym? I won’t be offended that it’s a competitor, I swear.”  

Bucky barked out a laugh, “No. God, no. I am perfectly happy with not having abs or a totally flat stomach as long as waffles exist.” 

Steve couldn’t help his eyes dropping to Bucky’s stomach which honestly couldn’t have had more than the smallest layer of padding across it. “That’s okay too. Waffles are pretty great.” 

The waitress stopped by to uncork their wine and drop off a basket of fresh tortilla chips and salsa verde. 

“What did you bring?” Bucky asked as he took the glass of white wine Steve had poured him.

“Albariño. A waitress here recommended it a few years ago and now it’s my go to. It’s light and crisp, and kinda citrusy? I’m not a wine snob but it’s damn good and goes really well with tacos. I hope you like white wine, I forgot to ask.” 

“I’ve yet to meet a white wine I didn’t like, so you’re safe.” Bucky sipped the wine and his eyes lit up, “Oh yeah, this is good. I’ll be hunting this down next time I go shopping.” 

“You can get it over at the little wine boutique near the farmers market in Sunset Park. They always have this kind.”

“Nice, I’ll have to check it out. My sister will love this the next time she visits.” 

The conversation flowed as the basket of tortilla chips disappeared, only ebbing when their platters arrived and they tucked into their food. Steve had ordered his usual taco platter while Bucky opted for the taquitos platter, an assortment of slow roasted meats wrapped in thin crispy shells. He let out a groan at his first bite that had Steve’s heart stuttering in his chest. The maybe-date had mostly felt like a friend-date up until that point, though Steve had to admit there was a tiny flutter of like there too. But the noise Bucky made and the expression on his face had Steve thinking anything but friends only thoughts. 

Bucky caught Steve staring at him as he licked a dribble of sauce off his bottom lip. He hadn’t gotten a distinct date-date vibe from Steve but the look on the blonde’s face was priceless. Bucky thought he probably had made a similar one the first time he saw Devon Sawa in Wild America when he was 12. He had never stood a chance of being straight after that. Testing the waters a little bit, Bucky smirked at Steve, making it abundantly clear he’d been caught staring. Steve flushed and Bucky’s smile widened. There might be hope after all.

Steve wasn’t sure if it was the wine or too many tacos but by the time dinner was over he felt glued to his seat. He hated knowing the evening was coming to an end and wanted to do something, anything, to prolong it. The waitress dropped off the sales receipt with a pen and Steve tried to steady his hand as he signed his name. He knew he needed to muster up his courage or he would be saying goodbye to Bucky in mere minutes.

“Thanks again for paying.” Bucky said after draining the last of his wine, “This was really nice.” 

“It was.” Steve agreed, seeing his chance, “You know, I have another bottle of this wine back at my place if you wanna come over for a bit. Maybe you could help me find that movie app you were telling me about for the Fire Stick?”

“Sure, I’m happy to help. I won’t say no to more of that wine either.” Bucky stamped down the hopeful cheering in his chest that Steve was inviting him over. The poor guy probably didn’t mean that anything would happen other than wine and tech help but Bucky could always dream. He would be respectful though, he resolved to himself. He’d never dated a guy who was questioning his sexuality before and Bucky didn’t want to push too far too soon. Bucky figured it was best to let Steve set the pace and just hope his heart didn’t get run over in the process. 

Steve’s apartment was only four blocks from the restaurant, a second floor walk up in an old converted brownstone. It was nicer than Bucky’s little hole in the wall apartment and even had a small second bedroom that Steve had set up as a home office. After giving Bucky a quick tour, he led them to the kitchen to pull another bottle of Albariño out of his cabinet. Passing a stemless glass to Bucky, he poured them both a generous amount of wine which they carried out to the living room so Bucky could show Steve the app he’d mentioned during dinner. A few clicks and a quick download later, Steve had access to a ridiculous amount of free movies. 

“This is so great.” Steve praised, clicking through the different options. “Oh I love this one!”

“Hm?” Bucky looked up from his glass to see Steve hovering over 10 Things I Hate About You. “Oh that one is great. I remember wanting to be Patrick Verona when I grew up after seeing that.” 

Steve gave an amused side eyed look at Bucky. “I think you did a decent job.” he teased, throwing on the movie out of sheer impulse.

Bucky laughed, “You’re sweet. But god knows I’ll never be that smooth.” 

“You’re better off than me. I’ve been told I’m hopeless on more than one occasion.” 

“You hold your own, Rogers.” Bucky assured him, reaching over to take Steve’s hand in his, stroking the pad of his thumb over the ridges of Steve’s knuckles. 

Steve blinked slowly, looking from their joined hands up to Bucky’s face. It felt good, that fluttery feeling stirring in his gut at the contact. He gave Bucky a smile and squeezed his hand gently, making sure his consent was clear.

The movie rolled and they sipped their wine as Patrick did his best to woo Kat. Bucky slowly nudged closer to Steve until he was pressed against his side, his head leaning against Steve’s shoulder. He was warm and comfortable and completely unwilling to move by the time Letters to Cleo played into the credits. 

“I can’t believe it’s after eleven already.” Steve yawned. 

Bucky yawned next, set off by Steve’s. “Same. I had a really good night, Steve.” He looked up curiously, wondering if Steve had found any new revelations on their maybe-date. 

“Me too. This was… really nice. Hey, um, I know this was a maybe-date, but maybe um…”

Bucky shifted so he could sit up taller and face Steve while he fumbled for words.

“I, um, I’d really like to kiss you right now.” Steve blurted out, looking equal parts excited and terrified. 

Bucky’s smile was like the sun. “Okay, yeah.” Bucky reached out to cup Steve’s cheek, going agonizingly slow to give Steve a chance to bolt if he needed it. He leaned up a little and Steve craned his neck down, tentatively meeting Bucky’s lips with his own. 

A soft press, a pause, another soft press, and then the kiss deepened, Bucky’s lips parting to slot Steve’s with his. Steve let out a choked off moan, unable to believe what he was doing and how good it felt. He let a hand rake through Bucky’s hair and it only made him want to feel more of the silky locks. The scent of cedar and teak from his cologne filled Steve’s nose and though it was very distinctly male, Steve couldn’t get enough of it. It was so much more than he could have expected but also not nearly enough. He was breathing raggedly when he finally pulled back, repressing a shudder at the well kissed expression on Bucky’s face. His full bottom lip was shining and red, his eyes heavy lidded and his chest heaving just as much as Steve’s. 

“Whoa.” Steve finally breathed out in amazement.

“Yeah, whoa.” Bucky agreed. “So does this help in sorting out if this was a date-date?”

“I think it was definitely a date-date.” 

“I’m glad. And do you think you’d want to try another date sometime?”

“When are you free next?” Steve chuckled, only half kidding. 

“Easy there, pal.” Bucky warned lightly, patting Steve’s ridiculously broad chest. “We’ll find a day again soon.” 

Steve nodded, knowing Bucky was right for wanting to take things slow. He led Bucky over to the door, giving him one last quick kiss goodbye before the brunette headed out into the early summer night. Steve was still floored by his own reactions to Bucky but it felt so right that he couldn’t agonize over it for long. 

[noncanonlove]

Circumvent

It was Monday again. Hermione happened to detest Mondays. People were recovering from their weekends and so it slowed down anything she was trying to accomplish from the Friday past. The work day was torture and she couldn’t get home fast enough, lest she explode. Draco had a tendency to lose track of time if he was elbow deep in whatever he was currently trying to breed in the Manor’s greenhouse for his potions experiments but he tried to be home around the time she got back, sometimes worried she’d be tempted to return and do something rash if he wasn’t there to intercede.

The rest of the week, they had a pretty easy routine. They would make dinner together, discuss their days, work on pet projects in their shared workspace in the basement, have amazing sex, bathe, and pass out until everything restarted the next day. But Mondays were different. After slogging through the work day with ever growing irritation she came home fed Crookshanks, changed into comfortable clothes and lay on the couch to read and ignore everything. Draco would come home, already washed up, then after she’d taken her place on the couch he would pick up the cellphone she’d charmed to be able to work in magical environments.

She’d had the bright idea to get the Pureblood group more interested in the Muggle world. In order to do that she had to appeal to their curiosity and their natures. Gossip was the easiest one to prey upon. If they wanted to gossip, then they had to do it at a weekend do or a week day soiree. Hermione had gotten tired of attending the slew of them Draco loved to attend in short order after they’d gotten together, but had managed to get the number down to one or two a week. Usually on Sundays. Instead she’d researched and experimented on cellphones and other electronics with charms and other things until she’d gotten them to cooperate despite the magical interference.

She’d started small. She’d gotten one for Draco and showed him the appeal of being able to text her throughout the day without having to fuss with owls and also be able to send her pictures. Sometimes she regretted the pictures portion but usually he was pretty good about not being a total prat. Then to enact the next step of her plan, she’d casually texted him across the room during a do. That had gotten Pansy Parkinson’s immediate attention when she’d seen Draco pull out his phone and check the message. It had prompted a thousand questions from the circle she’d been in conversation with. Most had turned their noses up at the idea but Pansy and Blaise both cornered her later to acquire her help in getting them one. They knew an upcoming trend when they saw one and always had to be ahead of it.

So, one by one, each member of Draco’s circle had come to them for help on selecting a cellphone and then having Hermione charm it so it would be functional and never run out of battery. She had showed them all how to call one another, and they did that sometimes but surprisingly most of them preferred to text.

After their first couple of Mondays spent together as a couple newly living in the same house, Draco had figured out that she would rather light the house on fire than be chatty. For a while he’d holed up in his study or he’d sit in the chair next to her and read as well. After getting the cellphone situation settled however, he preferred to pace in circles around their couch as she laid on it while he gossiped away with the rest of his coterie.

She was always secretly amused, the one highlight of her Mondays, sometimes watching him in her peripheral vision as he became so engrossed in multiple conversations. He could become surprisingly expressive in the right atmosphere and by this point in their relationship he’d dropped his guard around her entirely. The instant she got up to make dinner though, the phone went away and his attention came back to them. She’d been wary of things getting annoying when she thought up the whole thing but she’d felt guilty about him being gradually cut off from his friends the with less parties they attended. Instead he’d started setting up group lunches throughout the week to compensate.

One thing she never had to worry about, however, was him trying to covertly cheat with it. The whole institution disgusted him. He’d admitted to her once that the mere idea of it turned his stomach. His parents had had a rough patch before where they’d cheated on each other and it’d nearly destroyed their family. Family was everything to him, so that was all it took in his mind to be permanently set against it. But more than that, Hermione trusted him. He’d offered to let her go through his phone before when a couple of scandals had happened. She’d merely kissed him and went back to her book, saying that they’d been through too much to get to the point to where they were at and that she trusted him not to do anything to endanger it. She’d been able to tell he’d appreciated it by the way he’d nuzzled against her afterwards, cuddling close.

Tonight, however, when she got up he’d put the phone away but had intercepted her as he came along his path around the couch.

“I think we should talk about something,” he started, his eyes cutting to the side.

That was his tell for being nervous, which set off the same emotion within her. Draco got nervous over precious little.

“Okay,” she hesitated, letting him guide her back onto the couch.

He took her hands in his and studied her for a moment before proceeding.

“I’ve been thinking about something. You’ve seemed to become less and less happy at the Ministry the longer you’re there. I don’t presume to know the whole picture,” she wanted to roll her eyes at that. She’d bet her salary that he and Lucius had been talking again, “but if I had a guess at it those old bats have come to the conclusion of your potential. In short, they don’t like it and all the change you herald should you get your footing. I’m afraid that you’re getting boxed in in your little job in Creatures. It’s been almost a year since you’ve been able to get anything passed.”

Despite the gentleness he’d said it with, it still gripped Hermione’s heart painfully because he was right. No matter what she’d done she’d always seemed to hit roadblock after roadblock. She’d begun to suspect that her boss had started to just give her platitudes when she brought things up to him about it to try to keep her from blowing a gasket. Her eyes filled with tears and she envisioned the rest of her career being like this until she became another Arthur Weasley, boxed off in some tiny office, out of sight and out of mind.

“Babe, I didn’t tell you this to make you cry,” he said, gathering her to his chest tightly, “Please don’t cry.”

“What am I supposed to do? It was my dream to change things and now it’s been ground to dust by some archaic, august caucus of pompous old bastards terrified of one woman,” her voice quavered from against his collarbone.

He languidly rubbed a hand up a down her back, “Well, to be truthful you can be pretty scary. You’re a powerful witch and you’re smarter than most of them combined. You’re certainly a formidable force. I didn’t say any of this to upset you. I had an idea. What methods are most successful at enacting change at the ministry?” he asked her.

“Bribery,” she muttered darkly, thinking of how Lucius would visit different departments and how little things always seemed to happen after he would pop by one, usually resulting in one bigger result later on that couldn’t quite be traced back to him unless one was really paying close attention.

He chuckled, “What else?”

She thought about it for a minute before bringing her head up to look at him again, “Well there’s public opinion…”

“Exactly. You’ve always been persuasive with your words, even if you need a little guidance sometimes with the presentation,” he grunted as she elbowed him but charged on, “Why don’t you write your own column?” He proposed.

She couldn’t stop the snort.

“What?” he asked, bewildered and more than a little irritated.

“The only two options I have for publishing them in is The Prophet or The Quibbler,” she said disdainfully. “Either one would edit my pieces to death to where it would hardly look like anything I’d actually written or bury them under a bunch of nonsense.”

Draco knew and understood her feelings on both of those media sources. He’d come prepared though.

“That’s true, but from everything I’ve heard, people who’ve fought in the war and many of those recovering in general are displeased by both the state of the Ministry and The Prophet. The way The Prophet is so wishy washy they’ve made themselves too unreliable for too long,” he said.

“So I start my own paper? Where would I get the resources to do that? I may have gotten some money off of the sale of my parents estate and what I was gifted by helping bring down Voldemort, but that’s not enough to pay people to write, to buy the equipment, a base of operations and everything else,” she started.

Her merely stared at her until she shut up and looked back at him.

“Have you forgotten that the Malfoys aren’t just known for their ability to affect change and their magical prowess?” he drawled with a hitched brow.

“Draco I can’t ask you to fund me! What if it fails? Surely I can find other avenues…” she said with wide eyes.

He scoffed, “You act like I won’t make that back within the year. I bet within five you’ll drive The Prophet right out of business.”

She looked at her lap with a furrowed brow, her mouth pulled to one side as her mind raced across it.

He knew he’d won when she set her shoulders, finally looking back up at him.

“You’re going to help me with this right? This isn’t something I could do without you even if you weren’t funding it,” she said, squeezing his hands.

“Don’t be silly, you absolutely could do it!” he insisted fiercely, “but to answer your question, of course I’ll help you. As much as you want,” he promised.

He couldn’t stand the idea of her fire being extinguished in that thrice damned Ministry. She was too smart and too full of life to become a victim of their drudgery. With this she could enact the change she wanted and circumvent dealing with them all together. As an added bonus Draco wouldn’t have to share her as much anymore.

“I’ll quit tomorrow, then and we’ll get things going,” she said, excitement beginning to bloom across her face.

He just grinned and kissed her. The paper was a good idea anyway, but their partnership in it would be a good proving ground for something bigger between them. He was determined to come out right side up on that aspect of the venture.

[honestandsincere]

reputation part three

It’s a frosty morning in New York City. The air feels crisp and fresh, in a way that burns your cheeks as blood rushes to their surfaces in an attempt to warm you up. Each windscreen of stagnant cars is opaque with a thin layer of ice, hiding empty coffee cups or opened notebooks on backseats from the night before. Despite the chill, New York couldn’t be more awake. The city moves at its relentless pace; taxi cabs weave through streets, commuters pace the sidewalks with phones pressed to their ears, dog-walkers are out in their force at the early hour. The energy is ceaseless.

Y/n grips her cup of tea tighter in her hand, willing the warmth to seep through the cardboard and into her numbed fingertips. Her nose tingles and with her free hand, she pulls her beanie over her ears. The park bench beneath her is cold so she begins bouncing her thighs up and down to try and generate some warmth. She takes her time to people-watch, observing the clusters of people that pass her and taking in the scenes around her. Even in the heart of Central Park, everyone has a determined sense of direction, only tourists seem to dawdle and take their time immersing themselves in the early light of the day.

It must be about eight thirty by now, rush hour slowly coming to its close. Yet the park is still bustling with life as artists set up their canvases along the perimeters of the footpaths, displaying their oil pastel masterpieces for the public to gawp at. Y/n sips her tea and flicks her wrist so she can check her watch.

“Early bird catches the worm, y/l/n,” she looks up at the sound of his voice. There he stands, a few feet from her, smirking despite being red-faced and breathing heavily. “Nice of you to join me, Mr Dolan,” y/n rakes her eyes up and down his figure, taking in his grey sweatpants and maroon Harvard hoodie. “Figured I’d get a run in before our meeting,” he takes a few steps forward and then flops onto the bench beside her, “please call me Ethan, this isn’t formal.” “Any meeting with you is formal, Mr Dolan.”

Ethan laughs at her persistence, blowing air out of his lips and running a hand through his disheveled hair. He couldn’t deny that he was excited about their little rendezvous, deciding to go for a run to work off his almost nervous energy. It makes him hate y/n y/l/n. She does look pretty though. She always looks pretty. Her coat looks warm and her adorable beanie made sure he noticed her as soon as he turned the corner towards the park’s center. Y/n turns to face him, cradling the mug in both her hands. “We need to talk,” the way she looks at him makes him feel soft, he pushes this feeling aside with a lighthearted roll of his eyes. “We do, y/l/n.” “That little stunt you pulled, with The Daily Mail, that was smart,” she chuckles, “I can’t pretend I’m not impressed.” Ethan Dolan shrugs his shoulders, basking in her begrudged compliment, “I do try.” “Is there much point in me asking why?” He purses his lips, watching her watch him intently with a furrowed brow, “Hate to spoil the magic for you, but it helps with my image. I also wanted to make the first move.” Y/n scoffs, “You made a move alright, Dolan.” “You can’t deny the chemistry between us,” he wiggles his eyebrows at her. “I can and I will,” she narrows her eyes, as if she’s scanning his every detail, “I don’t think you understand how transparent you are. This was never about our ‘chemistry’, this is you trying to save your own skin.” Ethan wishes she was right.Y/n is, to an extent. If the public saw that he was in a relationship with the woman that wrote a stellar article about him, they’d go wild. The world is a huge sucker for romance, the cheesier and least realistic the scenario the better. Their photograph at Delevigne’s was too good an opportunity to pass up. LIFE Magazine sales are only increasing, people desperate to try and read between y/n’s lines in an attempt to decipher the compelling private life of Ethan Dolan. It also makes sense that they’re in a relationship; he’s successful and attractive, she’s successful and attractive. Of course, Ethan’s reputation would be saved too. Having the world think that y/n was committed to him meant that any article she published ‘exposing’ his antics would be seen as a fluke or perhaps some kind of magazine hack. Ethan could also release a statement claiming he and y/l/n have separated and the only reason she wrote the article was to spite him. He has to admit, it’s clever. But he can’t ignore the fact that it stretches beyond that. It’s not entirely a stunt to save himself. He’s grown to like y/n, he can see aspects of himself in her persistence. She doesn’t throw herself at him, he has to work to spend time with her. It’s all very old fashioned, the whole putting in the effort. Ethan Dolan is not accustomed to trying his hardest to woo a woman. Through making this statement that they are exclusive, it gives him more time with her, a chance to prove himself and change her mind. Y/n monopolizes on his silence, “I’ll compromise, if you don’t change your little business tactics, I’ll publish draft one. If you do decide to reevaluate your principles, consider the article binned.” She looks away from him, her cheeks burning with repressed anger. Y/n doesn’t like getting annoyed, she also doesn’t like Ethan Dolan knowing he has an effect on her. Ethan ponders her words, they make sense. Frankly, since he’d read her first draft he had been thinking about Dolan & Dolan’s principles as a company. He’s always seen himself as a philanthropist, even when he and Grayson were knocking down office blocks to make room for their skyscrapers, he’d offered redundant employees jobs. Granted, they were higher paid jobs with better working conditions and the paternity leave scheme is one of the greatest the city has ever seen. All he’s done wrong is lie. If Ethan Dolan was to tell the world that he makes his money through crippling businesses until they have no choice but to sell themselves to him, it doesn’t sound too great. But, if he lets everyone know that he’s rebuilding derelict communities and providing better employment for the people of New York, it’s a different matter. Y/n’s first draft is scathing, to say the least. She writes from an overt point of distaste and Ethan has to remind himself she’d planned out her writing before actually meeting him. He likes to think that maybe she was taken aback by personable he is, but he stops himself from being too arrogant. Y/n y/l/n can write, which is his blessing and his curse. She’s his own double-edged sword, a grenade that could explode any second, his secret weapon and his own downfall. Her ambivalence is brilliant. “I’m not expecting you to change, Mr Dolan. I know that it’s not in your nature to change your mind, but don’t think that this little game of mommies and daddies is gonna stop me.” “You drive a hard bargain, y/l/n,” he finally speaks, folding his arms across his chest and keeping his eyes on her side profile. “This isn’t a deal, it’s never been a deal. It’s about you doing the right thing,” y/n exhales heavily, sipping her tea. She’s tired of Ethan Dolan ignoring the truth. “I’ll think about it,” Ethan says, smiling at the way her eyes widen in shock, “but I’m gonna need you to do something for me in return.” It’s hard not to laugh when she’s brought back to reality, a scowl gracing her features. “The Robin Hood Foundation is throwing a charity gala this Friday, come as my date and I’ll talk to Grayson.” Y/n laughs, a full-bellied laugh that causes her shoulders to shake, but it’s tainted with a sense of bitterness, “I should’ve known it wasn’t going to be easy.” “New York City is convinced we’re in love, let’s give them something to talk about.” “Even if I do come with you to this charity party, which is incredibly ironic by the way, there’s no way you’ll do anything to change Dolan & Dolan.” “Never say never, y/l/n.”

----------------

The sporadic flashes are blinding, each being triggered by a shout of their names or an exaggerated compliment. Y/n bears her teeth in a forced smile, trying her hardest not to blink at inconvenient moments. “Miss y/l/n! Turn your head to the right please!” She complies, closing her mouth and placing a hand on her hip. “Who are you wearing tonight, y/n?” She’d been told not to answer questions, so she glances towards her Louboutin heels quickly to compose herself. “Is it true wedding bells are ringing?” Y/n’s eyes flicker towards the incessant flashes, she laughs. She poses again, crossing her legs like the girls Vogue rave about. Since the overwhelming success of her article, y/n has become no stranger to photographs. The paparazzi have been following her every move since Ethan Dolan declared that they were ‘exclusive’. Y/n has been greeted by ominous flashes on her way into the office, swarmed at the local grocery store and bombarded by absurd questions while clambering out of the cab. She’s learned to keep her head down, to not give anything away, not so much for her own sake but to avoid inflating Dolan’s ego. Her face being on gossip sites and social media feeds is all too familiar. Y/n's taught herself how to pose. "Have I mentioned that you look ravishing this evening, y/l/n?" a warm palm comes to rest between her shoulder blades as his hot breath graces her cheek. The shouts of the photographers become louder as y/n slides her arm around his suit-clad waist. "Too many times," she grimaces. Ethan's hand grazes down her back to rest on her hip, pulling her into his side and kissing her cheek. He enjoys the charade, milking every moment for what it's worth. Y/n wants to scold him for almost smudging her painstakingly flawless makeup, but she's remained composed for too long to ruin the facade now. He looks good, that cannot be denied. Ethan Dolan always looks unspoiled, it's genetic, but tonight he looks better. His blazer and bright crimson dress pants make him look younger than the regular black suit he wears for business, reminding y/n that he's just as juvenile as she is. He's taken the liberty of shaving, she wonders how soft his jaw is now it's devoid of stubble but catches her mind wandering. Y/n cannot afford to get enraptured in Ethan Dolan's minor details. "They love us," he mumbles, as he waves to a pap that seems familiar. "I should hope so," y/n speaks through her teeth as she smiles, her cheeks are beginning to hurt. "The world can't resist an attractive couple." "Too bad it's all an act then." She cranes her neck to kiss his cheek, slinking away from his familiar grasp and following an assistant dressed in black along the carpet. Y/n feels like she can breathe now that the cameras are far behind her. She's lead through the huge doors of Guastavino's, lifting the floating skirt of her dress in order to step into the building. The lobby is bustling with waiters and chaperones, guiding New York's elite into the reception area of the gala. Beside the huge glass reception desk, two large display boards present the smiling face of Ethan Dolan, along with other seemingly legitimate philanthropists as they are thanked for their generosity. If y/n did not know any better she'd be proud. She's researched the foundation and Ethan does, in fact, donate an unfathomable amount of money to the cause on an annual basis. It's impressive, commendable. She just wishes everything was like this, that Dolan & Dolan were as praiseworthy as they appear. "If you come this way, Miss y/l/n, I'll take you to your table," the young woman with long auburn hair smiles. Y/n follows her through the huge double doors into the dinner hall, snatching a gasp at the dimly lit room. Its scalloped ceilings are illuminated by golden lights attached to the stunning pillars dotted around the room. Tables are draped with velvet cloths and huge centerpieces are decorated with gold-tipped lilies. It's stunning, to say the least. Y/n and her chaperone weave through the partially filled tables until they reach one towards the venue's stage. She spots Grayson sat with his back to the screen playing a slideshow of the charity's patrons, his hands moving animatedly as he converses with a middle-aged man. The young girl gestures to an empty seat and y/n sits, thanking her before watching her march away. "Y/n!" Grayson cheers, his attention drifting from his discussion to her, "So glad you could make it tonight. Isn't this amazing?" "It's lovely to see you, Mr Dolan," she smiles politely. He scoffs, "Call me Grayson. You're dating my brother, we're on first name bases now." Y/n wonders if Grayson knows. He and Ethan are twin brothers, they're bound to be close, but she knows that Grayson is just about as good as a middle school girl at keeping a secret. Would Ethan risk telling him? If they're 'relationship' is destined for inevitable failure, maybe it's for the best that he believes it too. The younger Dolan shifts in his seat, "Y/n, this is David van Douglas, one of the Foundation's CEOs," he gesticulates to the man beside him. Van Douglas holds out a hand to her, she shakes it with a firm grip, "What an honor it is to meet you, Miss y/l/n. I'm such a big supporter of your work." Y/n grins, "Thank you so much. If anything I should be honored to be in your presence, Mr van Douglas. Your work is truly amazing." "We'd be nothing without the Dolans' donations," he admits, shrugging a little in his Givenchy suit. "Dave, you know it's the least we can do," Grayson pats the older man on the back, "tonight is going to be such a success." "Yes, the venue looks beautiful," y/n adds, glancing around her again. A pair of hands come to rest on her bare shoulders. She can smell Paco Rabanne's Invictus, it's unmistakably him. His thick fingers stroke her soft skin gently, it's affectionate. "I see you've met my other half, David," y/n can hear the smirk in his voice. "I have and she's enchanting," van Douglas rises to his feet and steps towards Ethan, pulling him from y/n and into a hug, "it's good to see you, Ethan." "You too, it's been too long." Y/n turns to watch the men embrace, noting the way Ethan claps van Douglas on the back, the same way Grayson had done earlier. They mumble something that isn't intelligible, so she shifts back towards Grayson. She's taken aback by the way his eyes are boring into her, a smirk plastered on his chiseled face. "I know," he mouths. --------------- "So then I said to her, 'Cecelia, you can't not have caviar at your sixth birthday party, that's simply reprehensible!' and she was completely vexed for the rest of the week!" "Oh Pierre, she sounds delightful!" "A real handful!" "Utterly adorable!" Y/n has not spoken for at least an hour. The socialites around her delve into a conversation she can't quite understand. Their lives do not compare to hers, they're topics of conversation span well beyond her own comprehension. It's a little too intense. She nods politely and forces laughter when the others laugh, her eyes flicking to the Rolex on Ethan's wrist, praying time would move considerably faster. "It's not you, it really is this boring," he whispers in her ear, his arm coming around the back of her seat in order to be closer to her. "I never doubted my judgment," she hisses. "Your mediocre acting says otherwise," Ethan chuckles. "I didn't think Ethan Dolan settled for mediocre." Words are forming on his lips when he's interrupted by a slim woman with high cheekbones, "Ethan! Do tell us how you and Miss y/l/n met!" A medley of hums of agreement spurs y/n to turn towards him, taking in his champagne-flushed cheeks and fixed eyes. Ethan chuckles, running his fingers along y/n's forearm, drawing little patterns into her skin. This is going to be interesting. "I think it was love at first sight," he shrugs, earning a chorus of besotted whines and a fake smile from y/n, "I've never been so enraptured by a human being. When we met for our interview at The Ritz, she blew me away. I was and am in awe." All eyes turn to y/n, urging her to continue their story. She's never been exceptionally good at improvisation, she clears her throat. "He's so fascinating," she begins, glancing at Ethan for approval, "I told myself I wouldn't fall for him because I adhere to my professionalism, but I guess I'll make the exception for love." The table applauds them with gushing compliments and huge grins. Ethan quirks an eyebrow in surprise, he didn't expect her to be so convincing. Y/n's eyes rake over those surrounding her until her gaze meets Grayson. He shakes his head slowly, impressed by her facade, licking his lips in incredulity. Y/n can't help but laugh, leaning into Ethan's side casually. "Tell me that was mediocre," she mumbles into his jaw, placing a kiss there for effect. Ethan is stunned. He keeps underestimating y/n y/l/n. This might be his greatest downfall, his Achilles heel in his otherwise indestructible nature. He's not weak by any means, but she makes him feel significantly less powerful. Ethan Dolan does not question himself, but part of him is beginning to wonder whether or not he's bitten off more than he can chew. Y/n y/l/n is fire and he doesn't enjoy the thrill being burned. The topic of conversation steers away from one of Ethan's lies to another. His business. The gala's guests are all deeply engaged by the Dolans' capability at such a young age, teasing information out of them as the champagne continues to flow. "So, Ethan tell us about your plans for the future." "Honestly Celine, the only way is up. Not that I can go any higher." The cackles are sickening, this is the side of Ethan Dolan that is so detestable. "How do you feel about potential partnerships?" "I don't think there's any company that could offer Grayson and me anything we don't already have. We're becoming too good at what we do." Y/n fights the urge to roll her eyes. "There are plenty of CEOs killing themselves to get some kind of share in Dolan & Dolan." "I know," Ethan takes a sip of his drink, his hand running up and down y/n's arm, "but adding other organizations into our midst seems unnecessary. It's not like we need the business equivalent of Viagra." He triggers sniggers with his crude comment. Y/n thinks she's about to burst, her mouth is working faster than her brain and before she can control herself words are spilling out in front of her. "Of course, we're all too familiar with Viagra, aren't we, honey?" Choked guffaws spring up around them. Celine covers her mouth with her jeweled hand. David van Douglas snorts. Grayson's eyes are as wide as his empty dinner plate. Ethan Dolan clenches his jaw, his fingers tracing on her skin have ceased their movement and he takes a big inhalation of air. Someone called Bart quickly raves about his steak and suddenly the table tries their best to shift the conversation away from y/n's wildly inappropriate remark. Ethan is silent, which isn't unlike him. Y/n's noticed the way he enjoys observing, it allows him to charm his audience. He analyzes before making comments, thinking out his every word. It's what makes him so alluring. Grayson fills silences with trivial small talk, Ethan's approach is always tactical. But now, he's flabbergasted. Words are not coming to mind, he's close to flipping the velvet-covered table and storming out of Guastavino's. He's been licked by y/n's flames. She feels her heart pound with adrenaline. It's a pleasant rush, she feels accomplished. Embarrassing Ethan Dolan is great fun. Y/n sips her champagne, reveling in her success. Ethan retracts his arm from around the back of her seat, she notices the way she suddenly misses his contact, feeling the weight of it on her. He raises himself to his feet. Y/n assumes he's escaping to the smoking area outside to blow off some steam by blowing smoke. The older twin reached for a clean fork on the table and his flute filled with bubbly liquid. Y/n's breath catches in her throat as he begins to tap the metal on the glass. "Speech!" a voice shouts across the room and the hall descends into silence, everyone is in Ethan Dolan's palm. "Thank you," he dips his head in a way that would be considered humble by the audience, "tonight has been truly magical, having everybody here to celebrate a brilliant cause. The Robin Hood Foundation has been doing great work for years, and to be named one of the year's most generous patrons is truly such an honor. Success is nothing without humility and generosity, which is why I can't think of anything better to do with Dolan & Dolan Enterprise's money than donate to such a worthy charity." The rooms erupts into civil applause, embellished with the odd whoop of appreciation. Ethan clears his throat and continues to speak. "As you all know, this year has been a whirlwind for my business and me. I feel as though I have become a new man, rediscovered what it is about business that keeps me so entranced and excited. Charity work is definitely one of my main motivators, but I have found a new one; love." Y/n's palms are damp, she looks to Grayson who sends her a shrug. Ethan is too unpredictable. "Y/n y/l/n is undoubtedly the love of my life. She has given the man who has everything more than he could ever imagine. I'm so so so in love with her. She makes life worth living, I wake up every morning with a new sense of passion and verve about business. I couldn't be more in love with you, y/n," he turns to stroke her cheek dramatically before facing his avid audience, "Who knows, maybe wedding bells will be ringing this time next year?" Y/n is deafened by the clapping. Everyone around her has their eyes fixed on her. Ethan pulls her to her feet and into a hug, she has no choice but to wrap her arms around his built frame. "It takes two to tango, y/l/n. I'm a great dancer." --------- "At least he didn't propose," Grayson pats y/n on the back sympathetically, "I wouldn't have put it past him." Y/n scoffs, slamming the rest of her gin and tonic down her throat and sliding her empty glass along the bar to the waiter serving them. He takes this as a signal to pour her another drink. "He's gone and extended the expiry date of our 'relationship'." "Exactly, it could be a lot worse," Grayson wants to tell her it's her own fault for aggravating his brother, but y/n is not in a state to be told she's wrong. She sends him a sarcastic smile. The number of guests that have approached her congratulating her on her stellar career and stunning boyfriend is enough to make her queasy. Y/n is sick of the words 'thank' and 'you' by now. It's all too much. Having to pretend to be civil with Ethan Dolan is bad enough, having to fake being in love with him is impossible. The devil incarnate swaggers over to the bar, his blazer discarded on the table nearest the bar. He pulls Grayson into a weird bro-hug that y/n will never understand and mumbles something to his brother about giving them some time to talk. The younger Dolan taps y/n's hand and slides off the bar stool, heading outside for some air. Y/n rolls her eyes as Ethan resumes his brother's position, shaking her head. "As I said earlier, they love us," he grins. Y/n doesn't reply, she nods a thank you to the bartender when he hands her the cold glass. She takes a big gulp and places it back down on the bar, running her finger along the rim. "It'd be such a shame if we had to end things, don't you think?" he watches her intently, perceiving the way her bottom lip is slightly pouted and her brow is drawn into a furrow. Y/n doesn't respond, her eyes staring into her drink, scorning the fact the ice to alcohol ratio is bitterly disappointing. "Listen, y/n-" "Your ego never ceases to amaze me," she snaps. Ethan is pleased she's interacting with him, but he jumps at her outburst, he doesn't bother trying to speak again. "You act like you're so much better than everyone here, your 'holier than thou' trope is getting a little repetitive. Honestly, Ethan, your hubris will be your downfall." Her hands move avidly as she talks, she's turned on her stool to face him, her eyes fiercely wide. He stares at her blankly, letting her release her tipsy rant. He thanks God that the bar is empty. Ethan notes this is the first time she's used his name. Just his name. It sounds nice, pretty in her voice. He takes her flailing hands in his, she doesn't wriggle them to release herself from his grip. She likes the way his skin feels against hers, consequently, she hates herself for feeling this way. "Unlike Lear or Faustus or Icarus, my flaw isn't fatal. You know this is a show, this is all fake; my persona, everything. You think you know who I am, y/n. You're wrong." "Don't try and win me over with literary references," she huffs. "Why? Are they working?"

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PART THREE! This has been a long-ish time coming! I took a few days off just to relax and celebrate my exams coming to an end, so a huge thank you for being patient! Once again, I am so overwhelmed by the feedback and love for this series. I’m really immersed in businessman Ethan’s world, so I hope you are too! Let me know what you think! - K xx

T A G   L I S T @lukescolours @honeybeeesworld @yslbailey @quickdolan @dolancrew @dolancrew @sunflowerpseudonym @dreamergirl2727 @arrantsnowdrop @ceejay1163 @peruvian-bae @crown-jul @kinkbaby95 @takenbyheartstrings @loveyou3000-tonystarkzine @ergojenn @blackpinkdolan @sara29392 @someonedoingnothing