#all these damn job listings want java

[hungwy]

it is to my great dismay to announce that i will be discontinuing my study of C# in favor of Java, because of the will of The Market

[mmmichyyy]

🌸 gallavich fic rec list 🌸

welcome to my 2023 fic rec list! i went through my ao3 bookmarks and my tumblr tags from this year so here's some (not all, or else this post would go on forever) of my fave (new & older) one-shots, completed multi-chaps, wips & ficlets <3

make sure to check out my 2021 list & my 2022 list ! since i'm not going to include fics i've mentioned before in this year's list :)

& don't forget to check out @gallavichfanficlibrary @gallavich-fic-club @gallavichthings @thegallavault for more recs plus @galladrabbles & @gallavichmeta too ✨ let's go!

one-shots:

doesn't matter where we go by @heymacy (The boys take a road trip.)

to think that we could stay the same by teatrolley (post-breakup au, but Mickey gets out of prison, Caleb doesn't exist, and we get really into their past and Ian’s (struggling) head)

of going home by @lalazeewrites (Valiant has taken the greatest fall from grace the superhero world has witnessed in years. The Shrike is an unregistered vigilante who doesn't even ping the radar of Chicago's crime fighting scene. Ian is forcibly put on leave from his job and returns to the Gallagher house, a failure all over again. Not only does he not know what Mickey does when the world goes dark, he doesn't know that Mickey is still living southside at all. Not since the events of eight years ago.)

quiet by @babygirlmickey (In the quiet of a perceived absence of scrutiny, Mickey can be incontrovertibly tender. Or: 5 times Mickey lets his guard down, as observed by various third parties.)

all i need in this life of sin (is me and my husband) by literatii (As embarrassing as it might be, Ian is not only his husband but also his best friend, and Mickey is pretty damn okay with that. Why the fuck would he find other people to do the exact same shit with that he already does with Ian, minus the fucking, when he can just do that shit with Ian plus the fucking? It makes no sense. Or: Ian wants the two of them to have more friends. Mickey doesn’t.)

thirteen hours by @crossmydna (Ian has known for thirteen hours that he’s not crossing the border with Mickey, so he makes the most of the time he has left with him.)

queen of decatur by jaxington (“How’d you know that?” Ian asks, smelling chum in the water, the observant little fuck. “Not like your brothers are getting sent to lady prison all that often.” Mickey thumbs at his lip, trying to find a way out of this conversation. It probably wouldn’t be too hard to distract Ian just by taking of his pants, but he is trying this new thing where he actually tells Ian what’s going on in his head. “No.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “It’s my mom.”)

like strings of fire by @gardenerian (mickey finds a safe and colorful way for ian to indulge himself when hypersexuality rears its ugly head.)

the needle and the burning body by squash (jesuisgourde) (Mickey had two burning torches for hands but he knew what to do with them. Ian's head was on fire and all he knew was how to run and keep running. How to find a cliff and jump off. How to make Mickey chase after him, again and again. And in a cold cell in prison, Mickey catches him.)

some fucked up romcom by godisthedice (Two years after they locked him up, Mickey told himself that he was done with Ian fucking Gallagher for good. Two years as a free man and he's marrying him for all the wrong reasons.)

when the sun goes down by @sam-loves-seb (super cute and fluffy lifeguard au!)

lava java by @stocious (He's being really unprofessional. Mickey might not even be gay. He might be hitting on a straight man through takeout cups.)

here's to hoping i'm not what kills you by @crestfallercanyon (After a confrontation gone bad, Mickey and the Gallaghers get Ian to the hospital. And look, Mickey always knew that if the Gallaghers had a will they'd find a way, but being roped into their schemes himself wasn't something he'd planned on signing on for. All the Gallaghers need to know is Mickey's helping out because he's not pure fucking evil. They don't need to know Mickey was scared shitless when Ian got knocked unconscious, Jesus, he can barely admit that to himself. Once Mickey knows Ian's not dead and not dying, he's out of there. Except he can't bring himself to leave.)

to the thawing wind by @gardenerian (Living and working in the icy chill of an endless winter, Ian and his family are assigned to work the farms to bolster food supply. They live quietly enough, following the rules, until Mickey and Mandy Milkovich (with all their secrets) are moved in across the road.)

i'll come meet you where you are by @crestfallercanyon (Mickey comes back from prison with a ring of vicious bruises around his neck and an edge to him Ian doesn't recognize. But he came back. He came back, and now it's time for Ian to meet him halfway.

closing in walls and ticking clocks by c_cups_bitch_u_wish (So, this is happening. Mickey is sitting in the corner of the bedroom on the comfiest fucking chair he’s ever sat in, and his adult self and adult Ian are about to fuck. And he’s going to watch. What's most odd is that this doesn't even feel like the weirdest thing to happen to him today.)

a spark of fire by @lingy910y (“You wanted us to finally have some time alone. You wanted to keep me safe, but you didn’t really care as long as we were together. You didn’t want it to end.” Mickey swallows a lump in his throat. “I…I don’t fuckin’ know.” “But can I, uh, ask you something else?” Ian rubs his thumbs together. “You like me, Mick. You fucking like me.”)

flip fuck? by @gallawitchxx (Mickey’s always thought that Valentine’s Day was fucking gay. But then some dramatic, ginger fuckhead had to move into the room next to his, and steal his hole, his heart, and the attention of his tumblr mutuals. Mickey decides to keep it lowkey when he asks Ian to spend the evening together: You wanna hang out on Tuesday? Ian’s response is quick and gives absolutely nothing away: Sure thing! That big-dicked idiot better remember it’s fucking Valentine’s Day.)

completed:

prelude motel by @whatthebodygraspsnot (When Mickey’s secret spot is infiltrated by an intriguing stranger, all the warning signs are there. Despite the voice in the back of his head telling him to disengage, he can’t help but bite off more than he can chew, running straight back to the spot and the stranger when a job leaves him injured. Enter: the Prelude Motel - where, for the next three days, Mickey finds himself hiding from more than just his pursuers.)

garden song (series) by @gardenerian (two gorgeous fics about ian's bipolar, about hope, healing, and tomatoes)

better by anomalously (It's been ten years since Ian's seen Mickey.)

in your love by @sgtmickeyslaughter (Mickey had been out of prison for 2 years and Ian never would have known until they ran into one another on a random night in May. Ian fights for the love they shared while Mickey fights for the life he built, as they both struggle with shame and guilt from their shared past it becomes clear that they cannot help but be drawn to what is bright and beautiful between them.)

whumptober 2023 (series) by @sam-loves-seb (21 beautiful fics of angst & hurt/comfort)

out of nowhere by @suzy-queued (Ian should have never offered to hide his father's stash of gold. Now he's stuck living on a deserted piece of land in the woods, alone, losing his sanity. Mickey wants nothing more than to disappear — from prison, from his family, from the entire world. If only he knew where to get his hands on a cool million. The Gallagher gold. Mickey wants it. Ian will do anything to protect it. Who will cave first?)

all these things i have left to say to you by @crestfallercanyon (After all this time that Ian's been missing, he leaves a tape recorder on Mickey's pillow. And on it? An hour of pure, unfiltered, Ian audio that is all, apparently, dedicated to him.)

wips:

keys to my heart by @milkovichrules (Ian finds his stable college life getting difficult when a new neighbour moves into the dorms.)

intro to quantum dating by @spoonfulstar (another college au) (one of my fave fics of all time!!)

the ink is a witness to this by @palepinkgoat (six chapters about the stories tattoos can hold and hide.)

order up by @heymacy (Ian and Mickey work together at a Chicago diner. They like to push each other's buttons - all their buttons. How long until the dam finally breaks?)

second chapters by @squidyyy23 (When Mickey’s PO assigns him a job at the local library, he’s pleasantly surprised—not that he’d ever admit it. Practically lived in the prison library, and what better way to start his new life than with a career he might actually enjoy. And when he meets the charming, clever, utterly fuckable, redheaded children’s librarian, well, shit just keeps getting better and better. Mickey’s definitely not interested in anything serious right now, but what’s the harm in a little fun?)

electric blue by @goodkwuestion (Paramedic Ian Gallagher knows true love exists. He's not going to settle until he finds it either, no matter how much his friends and family roll their eyes at him. Mickey Milkovich, on the other hand, isn't sure about all that stuff. He's an engineer with a long to-do list, and chasing rainbows isn't on it. He'll never say no to a good time and a pretty face though. When they meet, it will feel like kismet, something inevitable that neither of them can shake. Honestly though, who would want to? Falling in love can be the easiest thing in the world, especially when the whole universe is rooting for you... That's if the whole universe is rooting for you.)

ficlets:

all of @heymrspatel's drabbles, especially this one of ian being self-conscious about his body

docks scene & birthday suit gardening ficlets by @metalheadmickey

all of @lupeloto's sweet & domestic ficlets

@sam-loves-seb's meta about ian being the moon and mickey being the sun

ian's birthday ficlet & 31 ways we never meet (a.u.gust 2023 ficlets) by @callivich

airport confessions by @dynamic-power

gallavich drabbles by @whatthebodygraspsnot

all of @howlinchickhowl's a.u.gust 2023 ficlets!

(if you made it this far, i also write fics occasionally too so here's a self-promo lol)

[keanureevesisbae]

↳ ❝ [a love story - 5.] ¡!❞

Hank Voight x Kazuha Takahashi (asian ofc)

Summary: The Intelligence unit needs her help.

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 0.7k

Masterlist // One Chicago Masterlist // a love story masterlist

Today has been a quiet day in the cafe and it’s clear we’re overstaffed. I’m actually bored and if this continues, I will be tempted to drink another cup of coffee and I don’t think my system needs anymore caffeine.

While Trixie and Lea are in the back, Josie and I are behind the counter, chatting our time away. Just when Josie wants to give me her in-depth review about a movie she saw the other day (Keanu Reeves starred in it, so I bet she absolutely loved it, even if the storyline fell flat, because we are talking about Keanu Reeves), the phone of the cafe rings.

Josie and I frown as we stare at each other. This does not happen often. Who even calls this cafe directly?

I grab the phone and pick up. ‘Java Cup, this is Kazuha. How can I help you?’

‘Can you come to the district?’

If you have a voice like Hank, you don’t have to identify yourself over the phone. I think everyone in Chicago can recognize that voice. 

‘So much for a hello, Hank.’

Josie’s eyes widen. ‘Is that daddy Voight?’ she mouths.

I flash her the finger.

‘We need some help with logging into someone’s computer.’

I decide not to question it, but that is mostly because he felt the need to call the cafe directly. ‘Okay, I’ll be right up,’ I say, before I hang up. Josie ushers me to tell what’s the deal. ‘Intelligence needs my help.’

For once Josie doesn’t make a snarky comment, but maybe she realizes that when Hank Voight asks you to help him out, there isn’t time for jokes. ‘Okay, I understand. We’ll manage here.’ When I don’t instantly move, she adds: ‘Go!’

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

They should offer me a job here right away, because after only ten minutes, I had logged in, cracked every password the suspect had saved on his cloud and even managed to hack into his phone—legally of course—through this laptop and give them an exact location.

People are predictable and leave behind patterns, even online.

This was a piece of cake.

The entire team rolls out, however Hank stays behind. I’m still sitting on Hailey’s chair at her desk, while Hank stands behind me. I finally dare to turn around and to look up at him.

I’ve had dreams about a moment resembling this one. Him towering over me, me looking up at him.

I honestly should not allow my mind to wander there. 

‘You’re good.’

‘Thank you,’ I say with a smile. ‘I’m glad I could help.’ I push myself from the seat. ‘I should go.’

There isn’t a lot of space between us and I can feel his body heat radiating against me. His brown eyes are locked with mine and I swallow, before I run my fingers through my hair.

‘Yeah, yeah, of course,’ he says, his voice lower than usual.

This is too awkward for me. I have no idea what I should say or do. I clear my throat. ‘Later Hank,’ I say with a small and timid smile, before I make my way towards the staircase. My heart is pounding painfully in my chest. He was so damn close, he smelled so good and I finally got to take a good and long look at his brown eyes

‘Kazuha, wait.’

I stop mid step and turn around. ‘Yes?’

‘Let me take you out.’ Realizing that might sound a little too forward, I can see his lips pursing and a twitch of an eyebrow. ‘To thank you for your help.’

I think I’m borderline fainting. ‘Really?’

‘Really. Does tomorrow work?’

I nod with a smile, hoping I will not give away how much I would love this. ‘Tomorrow works.’

‘I’ll text you details.’

I don’t think I’ve ever ran this fast back to the Java Cup and it’s still as vacant as ever. Before Josie can ask me what’s up with me, I place my palms on the counter and lean over. ‘Hank Voight is taking me out tomorrow night.’

Josie gasps. ‘No freaking way!’

‘Yes freaking way!’

‘We need to think of an outfit. ASAP!’

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Chicago PD taglist (I operate one chicago pd taglist, so one list for all one shots and multichaptered stories): @acdassenza // @wanniiieeee // @one-sweet-gubler // @sofiebstar // @diegos-butt //

[kokokichichi]

Something that infinitely pisses me off in this fandom is that people tend to think Dream is a much better developer than George and often underestimate just how much coding George does for the entire dteam. See takes like "George codes for himself and Sapnap, but Dream codes himself :)" and "Oh yeah, George codes a little but Dream does most of the testing/editing"). And I think one of the reasons for that is because Dream at some point (back in fall mostly) couldn't stop mentioning how he's an Actual Developer and how he Codes, whereas George just...stays silent until someone directly asks him about coding stuff. And I don't know if it's just my personal experience as a female in CS field but whenever I see a dude brag about "how much of a coder he is" and "how he is in STEM which is sooo hard" I automatically write him off as a business major in denial, sorry not sorry. He'll be the horrible project manager who doesn't know shit about coding we all dread at work.

George, however, is a.) someone I genuinely think would be a breeze to work with b.) is so obviously a freelancer at heart that whenever he starts his classic money moves I can't help but think it's his old freelancing habits at play lmao

Dream may be an "ideas man" (again, something he's mentioned multiple times now) but please stop stealing George's credit from where it's due.

so valid anon! so true! 

you know, i’ll speak my truth on this: i am 100%, without a DOUBT, sure that george is a better programmer than dream. first, note that dteam themselves have said that george codes almost all of their mods. if dream was really so good at coding and if coding minecraft stuff was really as easy as he says it is, then why tf wouldn’t he code it himself? i know from working with clients how hard it is to get exactly what they want - it would be 100% simpler to just code it yourself if you knew how.

second, george has a DEGREE in cs. dream learned how to code HIMSELF. sure, it’s reasonably impressive that he started solo, but there’s only so much you can learn by yourself. cs in uni isn’t just learning about a bunch of languages, but it’s about also learning data structures and algorithms (varies depending on your focus but you get the idea) and so on so forth. the uni workload is also much harder than any real life application you would find in a job or freelancing (read up on the “weed-out” system in STEM, it’s super interesting. a lot of people think it doesn’t happen any more but... well...)

third, george probably got exposure to a lot of languages that dream didn’t. like sure, there’s a possibility that dream also taught himself more than just python and java, but i sincerely doubt it. george, on the other hand, has said on stream that he knows python, java, and javascript (which is very different from java). he also said he did app development, right? assuming it’s for iphone, that’s probably swift. the cs curriculum might be different in the uk than it is from the us, but i doubt he got his degree without learning a bit of c++ or c, which are two languages that are hard as FUCK but important for understanding fundamental concepts, such as memory allocation, which is all handled discretely with upper level languages (java and python). 

fourth, i think dream said the hardest thing he coded was an api? true, api’s are difficult, but i coded one my freshman year of uni. meanwhile, i think george’s tinder-but-for-business app would have been much harder to develop, in terms of complexity and components. 

fifth... dream does the testing and editing?? what?? i’m pretty sure when george finishes a program, he doesn’t immediately send it off without trying it out himself... so bullshit on that. in the case that george will send him something and dream will test it out to see if it’s what *he* wants (again... i still don’t see why he doesn’t just code it himself if he’s worried about this), dream has a practically finished program to work with. how is this supposed to be more difficult or skillful than starting a program from scratch...?

sixth, and this is probably subjective and biased, but i’m with you in that i trust people who don’t constantly tell me how good they are at coding more than people that do. like... especially with stem... you don’t get far in your field without learning to respect just how god damn difficult this stuff is and that there are always going to be people better than you. dream gives me like... consultant vibes LOL. george gives me “okay, how do you think we should do it? let’s discuss :]” vibes. he would absolutely listen to what i have to say and not talk over me, like 99% of the guys in stem.

ultimately, this isn’t a list that’s supposed to shit on dream’s skills or abilities. but if you think that george isn’t at the very least on the same level of dream in coding, then i hope this is a wake up call for you with no experience in cs. 

[dameronsgalaxygal]

I’ve Been Waiting For You - Chapter 5: Honey, Honey

series masterlist

Pairing: modern!poe x reader

Warnings: mentions of past abusive relationship, mentions of cancer. FLUFF. 

Word Count: 3386

Song Link: Honey, Honey

A/N: I may lag a bit in posting this week, I am getting my wisdom teeth pulled tomorrow and will most likely be spending the week recovering! I’ll try my best to work on the next chapter though in hopes that it'll distract me from the pain. Don’t forget to listen to the song, per usual! Feedback and comments greatly appreciated, and tag list is open!

Summary: You and Poe go to the beach and Poe talks to you about how he feels. 

I’ll pick you up at 11.

That’s so early for just a walk on the beach...

Maybe I have more planned.

You bit your lip to bite back a smile. You thought you would be meeting Poe later in the evening for dinner on the shore and then a walk down the beach, and although you wouldn’t admit it, you were hoping he had planned more. Knowing he had a whole day planned made your stomach flutter.

Is that so?

Maybe

Okay, Dameron. I’ll see you at 11.

You put your phone back in your pocket as you continued to work, organizing books. A group of middle schoolers had come by and basically made a mess of the entire store, leaving books all over the place and putting them on the incorrect shelves. It was your turn to reorganize since Tallie was at the register.

“What are you smiling at?” Leia peeked around the aisle to find you smiling as you dusted off another book, placing it on its appropriate shelf.

You just shook your head, a smile still lingering on your face. “Just thinking”

“About Poe?” She smiled, handing you another book to put away.

Leia could see right through you. She knew how much you liked being around Poe. She would notice your entire face light up every time Poe would visit the store, and she also noticed how much Poe could be himself around you, which was actually quite different from him. He always put on a mask around other girls, but not you. She wouldn’t tell you that, though.

You laughed softly. “Yeah. We have a date tomorrow.”

Leia grinned, “See? I told you that you know what you want.”

With that she walked away, leaving you to continue working with the same smile plastered on your face.

--

The day of your date, you woke up around 9am to shower and get ready. It was pretty warm outside and hardly a cloud in the sky. You wore a similar outfit to the one you wore to the club a couple weeks ago along with your swimsuit underneath. You weren’t sure if you would go in the water, but you wore it just in case.

Poe texted you around 10:30 as you were still getting ready.

Mornin sunshine. Going to starbucks then i'll head to your place. Whatcha want?

Your date hadn’t even started yet and you were already blushing. The fact that Poe had called you sunshine and was going to pick you up breakfast continued to prove the gentleman he really was. You had no doubt he was so kind, it just took you a few weeks and Leia to knock some sense into you that he was nothing like Kyle.

You don’t have to get me anything!

I know I don’t. But i'm gonna anyway. Quick, i'm next in line.

You chuckled to yourself before responding.

I’ll have a java chip frappe with peppermint :)

Got it. Pick you up soon.

You swore your smile hadn’t left your face since work yesterday.

You finished gathering up your things while you waited for Poe to pick you up. You threw a towel, some sunscreen, a change of clothes, a water bottle and some chapstick in your bag. You looked in your desk drawers for your sunglasses when you came across that matte blue notebook.

Hesitantly, you picked it up. You knew you shouldn’t open it right before going on your date. Your memories of Kyle had already messed up one interaction with Poe, you didn’t want them to mess up another.

The notebook had hundreds of pages full of your emotions towards Kyle. Emotions, feelings and thoughts you had never told anyone before. Thoughts that were holding you back. That kept you holding on to New York.

You heard a honk which let you know that Poe was outside. You grabbed your beach bag and the blue notebook, calling out to Rey and Rose to tell them you were leaving.

As you left, you tossed your notebook into the trash bin that sat right by your front door. You let out a sigh of relief as you got into Poe's car. Good riddance.

��Well hello there.” He chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee before handing your frappuccino. He had beautiful eyes, but boy did he look good wearing sunglasses.

“Hi” You laughed, taking it from him. “Thank you. How much do I owe you?”

“Seriously?” You glanced at him in confusion. “We’re on a date. You don’t owe me anything.” He set his cup in the cupholder and pulled out of the apartment complex.

The fact that you felt nervous was silly. You had been spending a lot of time with Poe since you arrived in Florida. He allowed you to be yourself and he was starting to feel like a best friend. Sure, you would go to lunch or hang out, but it was never labeled as a date like today. Poe was giving you butterflies.

The drive to the beach was comfortable. Poe had put the windows down and turned the radio on, turning it up just enough so that you two could sing karaoke with the music. Your hair flew in front of your face as you looked out the window and you pushed it out of the way, even though it continued the entire ride. Poe frequently glanced over at you as he drove, the corner of his lips turning up to a soft smile.

Thirty minutes later and Poe was pulling into a parking garage right across from Fort Lauderdale beach. “Why didn’t we just go to miami beach?” You asked as you sipped the last of your frappuccino.

He shrugged as he turned off the ignition, smiling at you. “I wanted to try something different.”

You both got out of the car, Poe going to open the trunk to grab what looked like a picnic basket along with a beach umbrella. He handed you another bag that had a blanket, towels, and a change of clothes.

“Making me carry your things, are we?” You teased as he closed the trunk, locking the car.

He smirked and headed out of the parking garage without saying a word. This was going to be a long day, and boy were you excited.

You had eventually found a nice spot on the beach far enough away from the crowds of people, but still close enough so it wasn’t like you had the beach to yourself. You wouldn’t mind if you did, though.

You set down the bags and put up the umbrella while Poe laid out the red and white checkered blanket. You took off your shoes, placing them in your beach bag so they wouldn’t get sand in them.

You sat down beside Poe, his tanned skin gleaming perfectly from the sun directly above the two of you.

“So. What do we have planned today?” You watched him place the picnic basket in his lap and he opened it to reveal a display of foods and drinks.

He began to take out small sandwiches, bags of chips, cups of fruit and cookies. You bit your lip to hold back a smile, the thought that he had put this together by himself made your cheeks heat up.

“Well, I figured we would eat first. Then we could go into the water or tan a bit. Walk the shore. If you aren’t too tired maybe we could watch the sunset.” He handed you a can of soda that you cracked open right away.

You took a sip of your soda before placing it in your lap. “I’m cool with staying to watch the sunset.”

He grinned widely. “Cool.”

You smiled back as he handed you a sandwich.

“Did you make these?” You unwrapped the foil it was covered with before taking a bite.

“Sure did.” He paused as though he felt guilty.  “Well, Finn helped me. By helped me I mean that he made them and I wrapped them with foil.”

You covered your mouth as you let out a laugh, trying not to spit out your food.

“Look,” He chuckled, swallowing his bite of the sandwich, “I don’t know how to make sandwiches look...presentable. I wanted them to look nice. Finn has a gift-.”

“In sandwich making?” You took another bite of your sandwich, a smile plastered on your lips.

He rolled his eyes and continued to eat. You admired how Poe was trying so hard. You could care less about how a sandwich looked, especially when you were just having a picnic. But Poe was different. He was going to do everything he could to capture your heart. He was doing a damn good job.

You two talked for what seemed like hours, typical between the two of you. You had only known Poe for about a month and a half, but you felt as though you had known him forever. Even after that incident at the bar and the encounter at the bookstore the next day, you still felt relaxed and comfortable with him. Things weren’t awkward between you two.

About an hour and a half into your conversations, you noticed Poe’s arms starting to redden.

“Did you put sunscreen on?” You asked him concerned. You glared at his bicep, which was only half covered by his t-shirt. You really didn’t know if you were staring at it because it was sunburnt or because it was massive.

He looked at his arms before he swore under his breath, grabbing the sunscreen bottle from his bag.

You let out a small laugh. “That’s gonna leave a wonderful tanline.”

He smirked at you before he pulled off his shirt, tossing it into his bag. You licked your lips unconsciously as you took in the view before you. His chest was toned perfectly and the sun reflected off of it, he looked like a movie star. A silver chain hung from his neck, a ring attached to the end of it.

He ran his hands along his chest and arms to cover himself in sunscreen and you noticed a small tattoo located right above his heart.

“S.B.D?” You asked.

He looked down at the initials carved into his skin before looking back at you. “My mom's initials,” he said, “Shara Bey Dameron”.

Poe had told you about his mom when you went to lunch after you had gotten the job at Solo Reads. You had asked him about his childhood, which brought up the conversation about his parents. His dad had moved away from South Miami after Shara passed. He felt stuck and heartbroken, in need of an escape before it consumed him, a situation similar to yours. Poe decided to stay in Miami to go to flight school and eventually become a commercial airline pilot.

Shara passed away when Poe was eighteen due to breast cancer. From what he had told you, he had been extremely close to her. They nearly seemed inseparable. You weren’t surprised that he had a tattoo in her honor.

“That’s a beautiful name,” you said softly.

“She was a beautiful woman.” He smiled gently at you.

Your eyes shifted from his down to his necklace. He reached up to hold the silver ring between his thumb and index finger, “It was her wedding band. My dad gave it to me after she passed. I didn’t feel like it was doing her justice, so I got the tattoo as well.”

You nodded sadly, looking into your lap. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, “Let’s not turn this into a pity party. Let’s have some fun. We’re on a date.” He stood up, reaching his hand out for you to take.

You took it and he pulled you up.

“Let’s go in the water.” He smirked.

You pulled your shirt over your head and pulled down your shorts to leave you in your bikini. If you had been with anyone else, you would have been extremely self-conscious. But being around Poe made you feel like yourself. You weren’t as nervous as you had been a week ago. He was making it clear how much he respected you.

He smiled at you in which your cheeks flushed.

“You’re beautiful.”

Your eyes shot up to meet his, your small smile dropping slightly.

“What?” He noticed your demeanor change.

You gulped, “No one has ever called me beautiful before.”

It was true. Kyle was your first boyfriend and he never called you beautiful. He never called you anything, for that matter. Except sexy, and that’s only when he would try to get you in bed. But he would never call you any terms of endearment, nor would he ever make you feel beautiful.

His smile turned to a frown. “Didn’t you have a boyfriend?”

No, no, no. Don’t bring him up. You were able to shrug it off.

He walked toward you, tilting your chin up to look at him. “Well I’ll tell you a million times. You are beautiful.”

You softly smiled. “Thank you.”

You were falling faster than you would have liked to.

Poe smiled back at you before scooping you up and throwing you over his shoulder, a small scream leaving your lips.

“Poe Dameron, put me down!” You laughed. He was careful. If you really wanted to be put down, he would put you down. He didn’t want to mess up again. But he could tell in your tone that you were being playful.

“No, thanks.” He ran down the sand into the water before setting you down.

You yelped at the change in temperature, the cold waves crashing on your legs.

Poe splashed you, causing you to gasp. You shot him a glare, your jaw hanging open slightly, before you splashed him back. “It’s on”.

You and Poe continued to splash each other as if you were a couple of kids until Poe pulled you to him, wrapping his arms around your waist. You were unsure where to place your hands, but you eventually sat them on his biceps, which he purposefully flexed.

He sighed, his goofy smile turning more serious. “I know you said you just got out of a relationship, and that you couldn’t do this right now, but I like you a lot. I feel like I have known you my entire life. You’re so easy to talk to. You laugh at my jokes, which by the way are terrible, so thank you for that.”

You laughed slightly, looking up at him. You knew where he was going with this, but you already knew your answer. He was making you feel again, something you didn’t think that was possible. At least not this fast. You had thrown away your notebook right before you left this morning. You were ready to completely start fresh. That wasn’t to say that you weren’t still hurt, and some things would be extremely sensitive, but you wanted to try this with Poe. Just like Leia said, you know what you want.

“You’re beautiful, funny, sassy,” You blushed and smiled, running your hands up and down his arms. “I know this is only our first date but, I’d like to make you my girlfriend. It doesn’t have to be today, or even tomorrow. But I want you to know that I’ll give you all the time you need.”

He was willing to wait for you.

“Poe.”

“And I don’t know what you went through in New York, but I would never, ever, hurt you.”

“Poe I-” You tried cutting him off.

“Yes, I know. Since I’m a pilot I am gone a lot, but I would never-” You cut him off by placing your lips on top of his. The kiss was soft, different from the kisses you had shared at the club.

He kissed you back and you felt as though you were floating. His lips were soft and warm, heat shooting through your body even though you were still standing in the cold water.

He cupped your cheek, tilting your head slightly to kiss you deeper. Even though it wasn’t the first kiss you two had shared, it had felt like it.

You pulled away, looking up at him. “I came here to start over. I’m tired of holding myself back. You’ve pulled me out of my shell and I admire you so much for it. I’m not perfect, and I might be a lot to handle sometimes, but if you are up for the challenge, then yes. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

You didn’t think Poes smile could get any wider, but it did. He picked you up and spun you around, and you giggled hysterically.

He sat you down, placing his forehead on top of yours before pecking your lips. “You’re my girlfriend”

You rolled your eyes playfully, walking out of the water.

He chased you, reaching down to grab your hand as you walked back to the blanket. Not even two minutes into being official and the boy was already smitten.

The rest of the date you spent laughing and exchanging occasional kisses. It had seemed as though Poe had so many he was waiting to give you, and he was giving them to you all at once.

Poe had pulled you into his lap, giving soft kisses to your shoulder and cheek and you would giggle and scrunch your face at the tickling sensation.

“Do you have any more food? I’m kind of hungry.” You asked, looking into the picnic basket.

He removed his lips from your shoulder to glance inside. He reached in to pull out a small bag of grapes, handing them to you.

You opened them and popped a few into your mouth before offering some to Poe. He grabbed one, throwing it at a seagull that was a few feet away from where you two had sat.

“Poe!”

“What? It looked hungry.” He raised his shoulders and pointed at the seagull.

“Yeah well now it’s going to alert its fellow seagull buddies and our date is going to have an audience!” You crawled out of his lap as more seagulls landed near your towel.

“Nope, no, I am walking away” You laughed and stood up, trying to walk away from the birds that were now hovering over Poe.

“They just want some food! Here.” Poe threw some more grapes.

You watched as the seagulls got closer to Poe, who was now standing with slight panic on his face. He started to run away from them in hopes that they would eat the grapes and leave, but they only flew after him. You couldn’t help but laugh so hard you nearly cried, Poe running in circles yelling for you to save him.

The birds eventually gave up and flew away, and Poe ran to you, pulling you into him and burying his head in your neck. “They almost killed me”

“You are so overdramatic,” You laughed, pushing him off you gently. “You ready for that walk now?”

He nodded, brushing his hair out of his face. “It’s getting a little chilly, I’m going to change and then we can take our walk down the shore and watch the sunset. It will be very romantic.” He winked.

You giggled again, walking to your bag to grab your clothes. You changed into some sweats and a hoodie, and Poe did the same.

“Ready?” Poe asked, reaching his hand out for you.

You nodded, taking it and intertwining your fingers as you walked along the shore. The water barely caressed your feet as you walked and talked, sharing pecks on the lips every now and then until Poe stopped walking, pulling you to his chest and placing a small kiss on the crown of your head. You rested your head on his chest and let out a tiny sigh.

You were feeling excited, but a part of you was upset with yourself for allowing you to get attached to someone so quickly, let alone hop into another relationship after just getting out of an abusive long-term relationship. You couldn’t help but worry you would end up hurt again, but for now you stood in the arms of Poe, his head on top of yours as you watched a mixture of reds and oranges paint the sky as the sun faded behind the sea.

taglist <open> @twomoonstwosuns @darksideofclarke @damnyoudameron @rewritingstarrs @aidela @softly-sad @fanfiction-trashpile @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @lanatheawesome @fantasticcopeaglepasta @the-cry-of-youth @yeeintensifies @itsamedeemoney @yougottakeeponkeepinon @cloud-leader @multifandomlife22 @aroseamongthestars

[starblazerm31]

The Arcana HC Main 6 As Retail Workers

So I’ve worked retail the majority of my working life.  Took things I’ve seen and applied it to the characters of The Arcana.

Asra

He's that one guy who gets along with (almost) everybody.

Works hard, moves with ungodly speed.

Leaves pranks scattered around the back room.  Waits patiently for a yelp followed by a "Dammit, Asra!!"

Did Asra just clear that pallet in fifteen minutes?!  Yes, he did.

Customers love him.  He's very helpful and polite, even to Karens...ESPECIALLY to Karens

He's one of those guys who knows exactly where everything in the store is.

He's also that guy who is ALWAYS stoned at work, but no one can tell.

Takes longer breaks than he should, but no one cares because he's so damn good at his job

Brings an amazing homecooked lunch.

Started laying down heavy spices on it when it started to get stolen.

It didn't get stolen again.

Nadia

She's the general manager.

God level customer service skills.  Her store's surveys are always overflowing with positive customer satisfaction scores.

She's one of those rare gems of a boss who gets work done but also retains the respect of her team.

Her store looks immaculate.

She's kinda stern on dress code.  You represent this store, you gotta look sharp.  Did you even comb your hair today?  Wash your face?  Brush your teeth?  She notices.

Karens beware.  She can see through your shit.

She doesn't tolerate customers abusing her team members.  You're yelling at an employee?  No reason is a good reason, but there had better actually be a problem.  Otherwise, enjoy your store ban.

Takes care of her team.  We have a really big sale coming up that is expected to fill the store with customers.  Amazing food and ALL THE SODA will be provided in the break room.  Enjoy!  Hey, you seem really down today.  Do you need to talk?  Let's go to my office where you can vent.

Asra, Julian, this is the second time I've caught you two loafing.  Please get back to work.

Actually gets out there and works with her team.  It's a truck day?  Nadia is out there pushing stock with them.  The cash registers are backed up?  She logs on and starts ringing people up.

Doesn't take District's bull.  No, that's a terrible plan for my store.  Why?  Because it impedes on *proceeds to list a mile and a half's reasons as to why corporate's new plan is a terrible idea*

Julian

He's not fast, but he sure is efficient.

He's one of the guys always having to take huge items to customers' cars.

One of the best in sales.  He knows tons of random facts about tons of things in the store, is good with people, and is honest.  Yeah...you might not want that one, honestly.  This one is made by a better manufacturer, has really positive ratings on Amazon, and comes with a warranty.

Is the guy most likely to reply "I'm with a customer, can someone else get that for me?" when called on the walkie.

Smokes (Vapes) with Asra and Muriel during lunch and after work.

Can always be found on top of a ladder in the back room.

Never seems to stop moving...  It is said that only Nadia has seen Julian loaf.  But then again, Nadia sees everything.

There are five Monster Javas in the break room fridge.  They are all Julian's.  Ah, so THERE's where that energy comes from...

Works here part/full time while going to med school.  Damn, dude.

Is usually the recipient of Asra's pranks.

Gets constantly asked if he can pull something down from a high shelf by a customer/fellow employee.

Muriel

The other guy hauling big items to people's cars.

Head of the truck line.  Dude can toss boxes like no one else.

Knows that the store would indeed be fucked without him (And Nadia is painfully aware of this too), so he loafs and hides when he feels like it.

Tries not to interact with customers much.  When he has to, he does so begrudgingly.  He'll tell them what they need to know, then shuffle away quickly.

Can usually be found high up on a lift, fiddling with something or bringing down a huge pallet from back stock.

The master of spill cleaning.

He's the powerhouse that comes on to the sales floor with two huge pallets of dogfood stacked as tall as he is, and he still manages to get it all stocked on the shelves before anyone really notices.

If he doesn't know where something is, he is quick to hand the customer off to another team member...the thing is, he knows where everything in the store is.  Muriel...

He is the guy who is really mysterious to other co-workers.  They will huddle together in groups and titter about him while watching him lift something really heavy.

Hangs out with Asra a lot, and knows exactly where he hid his pranks.

He and Asra take way too many tok-erm-smoke breaks.

Portia

Works the customer service desk.

Super polite to everyone, but salty enough to use that politeness to make Karens look like idiots.

Takes care of her cashiers.  She makes sure they have enough change, enough rolls of receipt tape, and keeps up with each one's break periods.

She allows the cashiers to keep a drink at their register, as long as they don't drink in front of customers.

No one stands around bored.  There really is plenty to do.  Restock the candy and gum.  Wipe down your register.  No one likes a gunky pin pad.

Is usually the one making all the calls on the walkie.

Multitasking queen.  Ringing up refunds while calling for carry-outs on the walkie AND taking phone calls?  Yes, Portia can.

Complaints come to Portia before they go to Nadia.

Like Julian, she never seems to stop moving...

Store re-shop (the stuff people leave lying around and return for refunds) gets sorted quickly and efficiently.  And she makes sure the store team know when they have re-shop for their department.

Keeps up with store goals.  Sales goals, credit card sign-ups, website referrals, everything.

Lucio

Assistant Manager.

No one can freaking stand him.

When he leaves, you can guarantee one of the team members is hissing "Man, I swear I'm gonna quit, this is BULLSHIT!"

Best salesman on the floor (pretty much the only reason he still has this job), and he makes sure everyone knows it.  Your customer bought the vacuum and bags?  Cute.  I got a lady to buy a 60" HD flatscreen, video cables, sound system, AND sold three-year warranties on them all.  Mmmm...smell that commission.

He's that manager that can completely demoralize a good situation.  You got all the stock put out an hour and a half early?  Good job, guys!  Now get to work on the new displays for the month.  And remember...I'll be checking on each of you to point out your mistakes.

When he's not oppressing the store team, he can usually be found in his office browsing his phone.

The only reason he doesn't hand out pointless write-ups like candy is because Nadia won't let him.

The Karen asskisser.

The intended recipient of Asra's pranks.

Tried to get Asra, Muriel, and Julian in trouble for smoking, but Nadia quickly told him that they did more work and held more influence in this store than he ever would.  In short...they weren't replaceable.  He was.

Was the person stealing Asra's lunch.  Spent the rest of the day running to the bathroom.  He never touched Asra's lunch again.

@bazzpop @alongtherailway @i-am-arcana-trash @count-lucios-titties @ilyasterisk @apprentice-grace @arcanathots @arcanamemes @the-arcana-fluff-and-stuff @ryanthatsgay

[alitheamateur]

A Taste of Home

Summary: Amelia Calvert is a Boston-born girl returning home after the sur turn of events in her marriage. Her life is turned upside down, leaving her nearly broke, jobless for the most part, and sleeping in the childhood bedroom of her parents home. As if things weren’t shaken up enough for Millie, a familiar face discovers her return to the city, and her world turns to the happiest, most confusing whirlwind of shambles. 

Characters: Chris Evans X OFC

Warnings: Slight age gap (9ish years). Language

Back home. Back to square one. Back like things never changed.

Except everything had. You were returning without a job, no abode of your own, and a nixed husband. It was all supposed to be under wraps, but whispers spread like an unrelenting rash. The bad kind of rash that you never want to have to call an ex about… Your city may be a big one, one supposed to be above and beyond all that small-town “he said, she said” nonsense. But, gossip found it’s place no matter the zip code, and you just happened to be square in the center of it.

You much preferred Boston to the sweltering air of rural Texas, but the things we do for love, huh? Your husbands’ home-base office happened to stand in the city of Austin, and at the time, you would’ve followed him to Tim-buck-too had it been necessary. “At the time” meaning before you found him on all fours, belt loose around the ankles with his paralegal. You’d had her in your home, schmoozing her with expensive wine, and an overpaid caterer because you didn’t want to poison her with your shit concoctions in the kitchen. “At the time” anyway….

Leaving your soon to be ex-husband without so much as a “see you later”, Boston called your name. And for the time being, so did your old room on the upstairs floor of your parent’s house. You chose for a few months at least to believe those clichés about “never being too old to go home.”

Your travel blog hadn’t quite caught on with the public yet, and since your divorce wouldn’t be final for countless days, money was nearly nonexistent. You were separating from a lawyer, too. Meaning a substantial monetary settlement in your favor was highly unlikely.

Thankfully, you always had a place at Calvert’s Cup, your family owned coffee shop just a mere 4 blocks from your childhood home. The familiar solace of the place was comforting, and the warm, fuzzy smell of the house blend soothes your aching, confused heart, as well. Sure, the little downward brows of pity from the nosey morning crowd who’d made it a freaking special ops mission to discover your reason for returning to Boston wore you out. But, there was no stopping them. No way, no how. So, you played on with your best smile, and did your due diligence around the little shop.

 One Tuesday, with the rain pouring outside like the coffee at morning rush, and thunder rumbling against the loose panes of the front window, you ran back to the register once hearing the twinkling of the entry bell. Your line of sight never raised as you greeted the patron approaching your counter.

 “Morning. What can I do for you?”

 A cackling, raspy outburst and the clapping of a heavy set of hands swiped your attention.

 “Hold on a fucking minute.” The yelping announcement from the very familiar male voice instantly made you want to fall into a cave never to see the light of day again.

 You’d know that loud, Boston city charm anywhere. You swiped a loose lock of hair around the curve of your ear, hoping to God your face didn’t appear as heated & humiliated as it felt.

 Chris, the always handsome kid that lived two doors down from you your entire childhood, in the flesh & very much grown up. Of course, you were highly aware since his face frequented any slimy gossip column on the newsstand weekly. The two of you hadn’t been extremely tight knit in the category of friends almost 15 years ago since he’d been a handful of years older. But he was a face you spent many an hour daydreaming about.

 “Amelia Calvert, in the flesh. God, how long’s it been!? What are you doing here?” He smiled, shaking off the mist of rain settling on his coat.

 Yeah, what are you doing here? Let’s hear it. And don’t leave out that part about moving back in with your parents. That’ll be a real smash.

 “I uh... I’m back here now. For good, most likely. Some things have just.... well, changed recently.”

 Before he had time to retort, his pocket chimed. Pulling the telephone culprit loose, he checked the screen and dismissed its interruption.

 “Well, well. How ‘bout that? I’m sure your mom is ecstatic. I know how chipper my mom gets when I’m in town for a break.”

 The valley girl in you wanted to squeal a little. He was unfathomably handsome, decked in a dark shaded baseball cap, and a shirt resembling the same. The beard was new, but inexplicably welcomed.

 He was simply, well, just Chris. The choir boy who made everyone laugh, and whose house the entire school knew had the best parties. You remember him typically strumming a guitar, and starring in the lead role for every drama club production. Not a single person could ever deny his natural born taking to the stage. And all these years later, the stars, and that damn near perfect beard, had fallen perfectly into the place for him.

 You could feel the metal clasp of your diamond earrings warming against the bashful heat of your blush. Here you were, tied into a stained apron, dry-shampoo caked in your fitful hair, smudges of whipped-cream splattered on the glasses you usually never wore in public, standing in front of a literal A-list celebrity. When were the stars supposed to fall into place for you? Those bastards.

“She’s loving it. She and dad both. I did miss the place…”

“What brings you back anyways? Florida, was it?” He questioned cocking a thick eyebrow, endearing little wrinkles appearing above his left eye.

“Texas, actually. Yeah, it was Texas. I guess it was uh, it was just time to hang up my cowboy hat.”

It drew a belly laugh out of him, and he flapped a hand over his stony peck as if to choke back his uproarious reaction. You needed to feel a laugh like that. But instead, as of late, you were only the butt of such laughter.

His incessant mobile buzzed out again, this time in the palm of his hand.

“Hey, a large house blend, please. 2 sugars would be great.” He politely whispered, muffling the speaker of his phone.

Chris moseyed in circles a few feet from the counter, far enough to make your eavesdropping much more challenging as you appeared to innocently make his order to go. He still talked with his hands, boisterously tossing his head about. That had to be the theater upbringing in him. He may live up to his lax, ‘go with the flow’ reputation, but he definitely had a thing for the dramatic, as well.

You sealed the lid tightly on his biodegradable cup, marking his name across the side with your sharpie, and without thinking, dotted the letter “I” in his name with a tiny little heart. Your psyche was clawing it’s way through to the light one way or another.

“God, sorry about that. Agent bullshit, and all that jazz.” He nodded, rolling his extremely bright eyes.

“Living the dream, right? I can only imagine.” An airy giggle escaped you.

His fingers tapped on the counter, the other hand accepting the steamy java you had whipped up. He chewed his lower lip, gnawing back the tiniest traces of a smile, but the crinkles around his nose gave up his jig.

“It’s damn good to see you, Millie.” It was a simple sentiment. Meaningless, really. But, you could feel behind the bold, warm cadence of his voice that he’d meant exactly what he said. It wasn’t one of those things you say to an old acquaintance because you feel like you have to. Chris seemed…genuinely pleased at your unexpected presence. Which caused those same certain warm cadences in your…. areas. Your heart could’ve exploded into a million beating pieces as your nickname fell from his mouth.

Why the hell did he care though? What did your miniscule return to the city matter? There’d been no contact since his golden ticket was stamped, and truly before now, you weren’t sure he would even recognize your plain face in a crowd.

“Well, I’m happy to know that little ol’ me could brighten your day. And that I’m sure that glorious cup of dark roast had nothing to do with it.”

You were rocking fretfully back and forth behind the counter. Your hands fiddled with the loose watch band fastened around your bony wrists. You were fidgeting undoubtably. You were a fidgeter. The soft auburn whiskers sprouted around his sharp jaws made you fidget.

What those jaws would feel like flexing between your thighs…..

“You’re right. I do love the dark roast. Your dad always leaves a bag with my mom around the holidays for me. This cup seems to taste a little better though, I’m not gonna lie.”

Okay. Was he flirting? That was definitely flirting. You were getting a divorce, not dying. But, he didn’t know that. The wretched “D” word news surely hadn’t spread that far, had it?

You let yourself smile, timidly accepting the compliment with apprehension. This guy could have the ass of half of America on a platter had he been that sort of person. Nothing about the saggy, tired circles under your eyes, and your hair tied into a blonde crows-nest at the crown of your head screamed sex appeal in the slightest.

Chris leaned over the counter, fat beads of rain residue still hanging from his coat dolloped on the counter, one catching your finger. You froze in an instant. Your mind already warring whether to suck his slightly chapped lips into your mouth, or faint from the heavenly poison of his scent climbing into your nostrils.

“But don’t tell your dad. Wouldn’t want to ruin my source of supply.” He whispered deep into your ear like he was spilling some undisclosed secret of the CIA. The mans mouth grazed the shell of your ear, goosebumps climbing up your tensed neck.

“Mhmm…” you choked on your tongue trying to clear your throat. “Your uh, your secrets safe with me.”

“Cross your heart?” With one thick brush of a finger, Chris marked an ‘x’ over the now heaving rise of your chest, politely minding not to drag over your breast. The pert of your begging nipple may have made things a bit awkward.

“I’m a fortress.” You gulped, trying to swallow down the unrelenting urge to capture his lips.

He took a long pull of the coffee, never releasing you from his cuffed stares. You didn’t want to look away from his swimming, batting eyes, but something about the way his neck strained with his swallow called for your attention.

“Come to my place, Mills. Tomorrow night, if you don’t have plans?”

Well, your mom would certainly be distraught that you’d miss movie night, but you could probably squeeze in some time for the guy. But, alone? At his place? No one around to hold you accountable for the screaming, near melted center of your body that suddenly ached for him?

Lacking all power of will, you nodded a probably overzealous acceptance, making his mouth open into a pearly-white smile. A movie star smile. Literally.

“I’ll text you the address then! Have a good one. Glad I ran into you, Amelia.” It was as if the light of the room followed him out the door when it closed behind him, and you were left standing in a blissful fog to make some sense of the events of the last 5 minutes.

And what the hell did you have to wear to Captain America’s house? 

*A/N: PLEASE let me know if you’d like to be added, or removed from the taglist*

tags: @miidailyinspiration @mollybegger-blog @littleluna98

[skeletonscribbles]

26 from the prompt list for Ben/bev!!

my friend, I genuinely think getting to write this Benverly ficlet cleared my skin, watered my crops, improved my lifestyle, etc. etc. etc.

I wanted to give them a nice little coffeeshop AU moment, because it’s what they Deserve, so here they are in Face The Music, with the prompt “maybe not” :)

(and if you’d rather, you can read it on Ao3!)

Some days, Ben Hanscom felt like he was out of his mind for choosing architecture.

Sure, he was good at it - he always had been. The minute he’d stepped into his drafting elective in high school, he’d known that he had a talent for clean lines and physics and the necessary vision to design something beautiful, tasteful, and in synch with its surroundings. He was an architect. That was what he was going to do.

From there, his life followed a prescribed course of actions: down to hot, sweaty Texas to study at Rice University, then up to cold, meticulous MIT for graduate school so he could, at last, land a low-ranking job at a top-ranking firm in New York City. Ben wasn’t sure that he liked New York - he sure as shit didn’t belong there, coming in from ass-nowhere Kansas - but it was where he was supposed to be, career-wise, so…okay.

Well…not quite okay. It would be easier to ignore the parts of New York that grated on him if he actually felt like he was going somewhere with his career, but all of the big projects the firm took on seemed to be going to people (if Ben was to be bluntly honest) much less capable than he; Emma from New Hampshire, for example had been hired just after him, had put forward mediocre blueprints for a standard corporate building as the key piece in her portfolio, and had, within a month of being on the job, been pulled for the major midtown renovation that the firm had been commissioned to do. Ben was left to his paperwork and his resentment, and resolved to work harder, push himself further – but how much further could he go? He barely made it home most nights as it was. Last night, he’d been at work until 3:30 a.m., filing and sketching and re-sketching and thinking, and now, at 7 a.m., he was back to do it all again.

This is rewarding, he reminded himself as he shuffled his way down the sidewalk. This is what you’re good at.

Fuck. No pep-talk was going to be worth anything if he didn’t have coffee. He should have thought about that sooner, because at this point in the trek he’d passed most of his usual java joints - there was only the new place left between him and work, and it wasn’t a chain, it was an independently owned little corner market.

He wasn’t big on going out of his comfort zone, particularly where coffee was concerned, but…it was going to have to do for now. He hoped to God they’d grant him the extra espresso he so desperately needed.

“Hi, welcome to Maturin Coffee–” the barista began as he walked in (prescribed, he thought), and then they made eye contact and all of what was left of Ben’s coherent thought (which wasn’t much, to be fair, after about an hour and a half of sleep) went out the window.

There was a lot that could be said about the young woman before him - things that Ben could probably infer about her personality and the store as a whole based on her green turtle knit cap, mint green button-down with lavender stripes, and rainbow apron (that clashed with her red, red hair), but none of that mattered at all, because he was trapped in the pull of her jungle green eyes.

Shit, shit, shit. He didn’t have time for this. There was too much work on his plate for him to be falling in love with every manic pixie dream barista on the block. Shaking his head a little bit to knock himself out of his funk, he approached the counter.

“I need something with at least four shots of espresso in it.”

The woman raised an eyebrow at him, clearly somewhat bemused. “Four shots, huh? No rest for the weary?”

“Slept for an hour and a half last night,” Ben told her honestly, hoping the truth would make her speed up her work. “Not out of the ordinary for me. Espresso’s gonna keep me alive.”

The woman whistled, raking her eyes over Ben’s face with something akin to concern. Instead of asking questions about his personal life, though, as he’d feared she might do, she moved to grab a large cup.

“Any particular flavors you like?” she asked him, bringing his cup towards a disorganized jumble of what looked like flavorings and creamers. “Allergies, things I should know, etcetera?”

He racked his brain, trying to come up with something on the fly. Most of the baristas he’d  encountered would have just served him four straight shots of espresso in the bottom half of a paper cup, and he found himself almost grateful that this girl was trying to make things nicer for him. Very few people did that, these days (or ever, really, if he was being honest with himself).

“I like almond,” he told her, allowing himself one thin, quiet smile. “No allergies.”

Her returned grin was a revelation - it stretched her face so brilliantly that his heart couldn’t help but throw itself against the front of his chest like it was trying to get out and reach her and holy shit, did he have absolutely no self control whatsoever?

“Coming right up,” she told him, and busied herself with his concoction while he tried to pull himself the fuck together. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to focus on the residential project he was building a model for for that day, but found his mind was now completely devoid of anything that didn’t have to do with the spread of freckles across barista girl’s cheeks. Damn it, damn it, damn it. He’d have to try a new strategy for clearing his mind - what was that New Kids on the Block song that had been stuck in his head a couple of weeks ago? Said all that I wanted was you….you made all my dreams come true…..

He was so busy humming softly to himself, he almost didn’t notice her come back with his drink.

“Try this,” she said, and he flinched away from her, startled by her sudden reappearance. When he looked back down, she was holding a cardboard cup of coffee up to him with a knowing grin. “I think you’ll find that it has the right stuff.”

Ben bit back a groan. “Oh, jeez…”

“Nothing to be ashamed of,” she assured him, although the effort she was obviously putting into not laughing suggested otherwise. “We’ve all got a secret crush on Donnie Wahlberg, it’s fine. Take a sip.”

Not wanting to embarrass himself further, he took the cup and blew softly on the liquid to cool it down. He sipped slowly…and then sipped again and again and again as fervently as he could without burning the roof of his mouth.

The coffee she’d made him was INCREDIBLE.

“What’s in this?” he asked, wide-eyed, and the girl’s grin grew wider.

“It’s a secret,” she told him, eyes twinkling merrily.

He let out a surprised laugh at that, and promptly clapped a hand over his mouth in wonder - how long had it been since he’d laughed?

“Anyways, thank you,” he said, sounding more sincere to his own ears than he had in the past five years at his firm. “This is the best coffee I’ve ever had. How much do I owe you for it, because I’ll pay you twice that, it’s that good–”

“Maybe not,” she interrupted him gently, and he spluttered, staring down at her. Didn’t she need the business?

“Not…pay you?” he asked, dumbfounded.

She shook her head. “You look like you need that coffee more than I need your money. Do me a favor, though?”

“Anything,” he said, not realizing until the word was already out of his mouth how absolutely pathetic he sounded. God, she was going to think he was the biggest creep in the world.

“Well, two favors, actually,” she amended, and Ben steeled himself, waiting for her to drop the anvil: she had a boyfriend, she never wanted to see him in this shop again, she was filing a restraining order….

“Take a vacation or quit your job,” she said instead, and Ben couldn’t help the little gasp of surprise that escaped his lips.

“Wh…why?” he asked once he’d regained his bearings, frowning a little bit as he registered that her expression was sincere. She didn’t know what he did, or how hard he’d worked to get there. How could she ask such a thing?

“I’ve lived in New York for years, now,” she said, “and before that, I was in small town Maine, so I’m sort of an expert on groups of people that are really, really unhappy with their lives.”

“And?” he asked, cataloguing the personal information she’d just shared and wondering what her point was.

“You are without a doubt the most miserable looking person I’ve ever seen,” she said, and Ben felt an embarrassed blush sweep its way across his face, ears, and neck.

“Oh,” he said, not sure what else there was to say.

“And I don’t mean that you’re not attractive or anything,” she quickly backpedaled, mirroring his flushed face, “I just mean that you don’t seem….”

“Happy?” he asked, thinking quietly about his time at the firm and all the work he’d put in. He’d been trying for such a long time to convince himself that he liked what he was doing…but was he happy? Was convincing himself that he was happy something that happy people did?

“Yeah,” she agreed, looking at her hands. “Sorry if I overstepped, but.”

“It’s fine,” he assured her, still sort of reeling a little bit from all of the new thinking he now knew that he was going to have to do. “What was the second favor, quickly? I’m running late.”

“Oh,” the girl said, expression revealing that she’d forgotten that she’d asked for two favors. “Oh, it’s nothing. I was just going to ask you for your name.”

Ben’s heart did a quick backflip, and he couldn’t help but let that thin, quiet smile from earlier sneak back on to his face.

“Ben,” he told her. “Ben Hanscom.”

She seemed to weigh his response in her mind, as if assessing him anew based on his name…and then she smiled, letting him know that he’d come out favorably.

“I’m sorry for making you late, Ben Handsome.”

“Hanscom,” he corrected quickly, collecting his coffee and willing his blush not to reappear.

“I stand by what I said,” she told him with a wink. “I’ll see you around.”

Flustered, he stumbled over his own feet and almost spilled his coffee on the way out. He could hear her laughter echoing through the coffeeshop as he tripped his way out the door.

It took him another block’s worth of walking to realize that he hadn’t gotten her name in return.

He had half a mind to turn around, and he went so far as to stop in the middle of the sidewalk, frantically searching the cup for some sort of contact information.

It turned out that she’d been a step ahead of him the whole time. There was a note scrawled in Sharpie on the side of the cup that Ben had been holding.

-coffee’s on me whenever you need it. hang tough. love, Bev Marsh, aka the new (coffee) kid on the block-

She’d put a phone number (presumably her own) under where she’d signed her name, and Ben took a moment to stare at it, mentally committing it to memory.

Bev Marsh, he whispered to himself, and smiled quietly at how well the name seemed to match the girl he’d just met - the multicolored, coffee magician that saw right through him with her green, green eyes.

For once in his life, he had something to look forward to.

[dancingwithdylan21]

Stripped - Part 2

Summary: Being a high powered publicist, the reader is hired to work with the destructive rock star Dylan O’Brien. Her task is to revamp his difficult image from the ground up. Will the reader succeed? Or will she get sucked into his crazy life?

Pairing: rockstar!Dylan x Reader

Word Count: 2,381

Part 1

~

“You must be out of your damn mind, beautiful.” Dylan’s sudden shift in attitude catches you off guard, the smugness oozing out of him giving you goosebumps.

Why does this infuriating man have to be sexy as hell? And why does he have to be your client?! You continue to focus on Dylan who’s now licking his kissable lips and it’s driving you insane. You need to shut this down. Now.

“Give me your phone.” You sternly command springing up from the couch. Within seconds you’re standing in front of the intoxicating man with your palm held out.

“Excuse me.” Dylan immediately growls slipping back into his anger filled persona.

“Hand over your phone, Dylan.” You repeat loudly, successfully holding back an eye roll.

“And why would I do that?”

“Cutting off communication. Remember? You’ll get it back eventually.”

“Just do it, man. I’ll text the important people, tell them to contact me if they need to reach you.” Tyler adds as he stands up to stretch his legs around the room.

“This is happening whether you like it or not. Just go with the flow and make it easier on all of us. Ok?” You add.

“It’s password protected ya know. You won’t be able to snoop on my ass.” Dylan huffs with aggravation, then unwillingly pulls his iPhone from his jeans front pocket.

“Oh darn. My master plan is foiled.” You sass back, not able to stop the giggle that follows. Tyler joins in himself, ignoring the unimpressed puss on the rock star’s face.

“So what’s the plan?” Tyler asks quietly, looking apprehensive but also hopeful.

You bring your attention back to Dylan who’s sporting a pout as he sinks himself deeper into the couch. He’s doing his best to watch the Friends rerun on TV but you can tell he’s too distracted at the moment.

“Let’s go talk on the balcony, Ty.” You quickly open up the glass slider door and settle into one of the cloth covered chairs. You can hear muffled grumblings from the two men until Tyler stalks outside shutting the slider behind him.

“What did you get me into, dude?” You ask slightly amused as you watch Dylan through the glass door. Talk about glorified babysitting.

“Trust me, I know. The thing that kills me is that he’s a good guy, he just…he does bad shit.” Tyler replies dragging his hand down his face. The poor guy looks exhausted and you realize that this plan needs to work not just for O’Brien but for everyone in his life.

“I just told him that he’s gonna be cut off from everyone and everything. An addict would be panicking and freaking the fuck out. Wanting to score as much shit as they can instead he’s sulking like a little kid.”

“Dylan doesn’t get high as much as you’d think. At least not with the hard stuff.” Tyler wearily admits fumbling with the hem of his collared shirt.

“What…”

“Dyl uses to distract himself when shit gets to be too much inside of his head. It happens sporadically. The bastard is lucky enough that it hasn’t turned into an addiction yet.”

“Then why the rehab?” You wonder skeptically.  

“To stop his antics. O’Brien is a stubborn fucker, Y/N. He won’t listen to anyone. I needed a way of keeping him under control. And rehab did that.”

“Tyler...“

"I know, I know. But listen…I’ve known Dylan for fifteen years. He gets into these destructive phases where any and all common sense flies out the fucking window. I know the signs by now and he was on the verge like six months ago. Hence his most recent stint in rehab.”

You can sense Tyler’s sudden hesitation, he searches your face like he’s debating if he should continue on or not. He’s praying that you make good on your word instead of abandoning this whole arrangement.

“I remember reports of him overdosing like a year ago. Was that true?” You ask curiously.

“Unfortunately. It was the anniversary of his mom’s death. He was already super stressed to begin with, everything became overwhelming and he went crazy.” Tyler sighs heavily flashing back to that awful night.

He found his friend’s bloody, unconscious body lying in a heap of broken glass. Of all the places O’Brien could have passed out, he ends up crashing down onto a glass coffee table.

“I know it wasn’t deliberate. But I also know…at the time he would’ve been fine with whatever the outcome.”

“Jesus Christ, Tyler. Please tell me you at least know the root of all this?”

“Mostly family problems. His dad specifically. They’ve had a volatile relationship ever since Dylan’s mom Lisa died. He was 18 when it happened.”

“I guess I can add daddy issues to the list.” You add softly making Tyler sadly nod his head in response.

“The poor bastard’s been dealing with the guilt and bullshit from his father for almost 12 years now. Honestly I don’t blame him for wanting a break from it.”

“Guilt about what?” You sneak a peek at Dylan to see that he’s now fast asleep. He’s slouched down further onto the couch and propped his boots up on a nearby ottoman. He looks so peaceful that you momentarily forget that he’s a pain in the ass. The moment passes though when you hear what Tyler’s about to say.

“His dad blames him for Lisa’s death and he thinks his son doesn’t deserve all of his success. It’s why Dylan has a love/hate relationship with his career. He’s passionate about it but then the remorse sets in and he almost wants to destroy it.”

“Shit. Was it…I mean…did he…” You stumble out not expecting that answer.

“Yes it was his fault but it was an accident. It’s not my place to get into details, hopefully you’ll get him to open up eventually.”

Well this is just fucking dandy. You’ve dealt with difficult situations before with your job but this one takes the cake. The fact that you have a personal history with one of the people involved makes this harder. And it definitely piles on more pressure than usual.

Deciding you’ve found out enough backstory for now, you and Tyler start nailing down details for this ridiculous operation. He fills you in on where the rockstar likes to go to relax and you have the perfect place in mind. You know this whole process will be tough enough for Dylan, so there’s no way in hell he’s going to another hotel. Too many temptations.

Heading back into the hotel room, you notice Dylan is now wide awake and shoving fruit loops into his mouth. Oh how this man kills you.

“Ok dude…we leave first thing tomorrow morning. So pack everything up that you need because you’re not coming back here.” You inform him, blocking his view of the TV screen.

“Huh?” Dylan mumbles with his mouth full, looking adorably perplexed by your words. Although his innocent act doesn’t last long once he realizes you’re on to his game.

“Do me a favor, O’Brien. Stay. Here. Do not leave this hotel room until I come and get you tomorrow. And no visitors either. Your disappearing act starts now.”

“Yeah that doesn’t work for me.” He waves you off with a defiant smile then continues eating his cereal.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll keep an eye on him.” Tyler shoots you a wink and it makes Dylan throw his head back while moaning theatrically. Drama queen.

You say your goodbyes then rush home and get to work. You don’t have much time to get your preparations in order. Fortunately this isn’t your first rodeo and you have plenty of connections that can help out in a pinch.

Your friend Veronica, who’s a realtor, sends you info on rentals that have immediate availability. You find one that sounds like a winner then continue to get ready for this lovely adventure you’re about to endure.

~

The next mornings sun shines too soon and you seriously regret checking your phone. You have a google alert setup for Dylan’s name, so anytime the fucker makes headlines you get notified. And you’ve been notified a shit ton since you fell asleep last night.

Not only did the difficult rock star go out last night, his drunken ass hit a plethora of bars and clubs in LA. The evidence of it is littered everywhere online. Thanks so much for the help, Tyler.

Apparently Dylan’s god damn chaperone needs a chaperone himself. Fucking men. They never listen. You gave one simple instruction and Dylan couldn’t keep his annoying self in line. And Tyler…well Tyler’s gonna get a god damn earful once you see him.  

You stroll lazily up to your client’s hotel room door with Starbucks in hand. After a couple of knocks, the door swings open to reveal a very large bald man who’s sizing you up.

“Victor?” You giggle remembering Tyler’s description of Dylan’s driver. Apparently he looks like a Rottweiler but has a heart of gold like a Golden Retriever.

“Yes, ma'am but you can call me Vic.” He holds out his hand. “And you must be, Y/N. Come on in.”

You trail behind Vic into the other room and what’s before you is almost comical. There’s a hungover rock star sitting next to a nervous looking manager and they both look pretty miserable.

“Hello, boys. You ready to get this shitshow on the road?” You question fighting back a yawn.

Tyler looks ready to speak but suddenly decides against it, instead he just nods in your direction. Dylan barely grunts a response, yanking his worn Mets baseball cap down further onto his head.

Everyone finally piles into Vic’s dark SUV to settle in for the long ride. Of course he’s the only one who knows where you’re all headed. You decide it’s better to keep the other two in the dark for the time being.

You let the quiet car ride go on for a bit. Mostly because you want your coffee to kick in before mentioning last night. Although the stupid cup of java is not strong enough because you’re still fucking sleepy. Screw it.

“So tell me what happened last night, people. Cause it sure as hell wasn’t what we agreed on.” You glance between the two handsome men getting different reactions from each.

“For the record, I didn’t agree to shit.” Dylan interjects earning himself a dirty expression.

“It’s my fault. I fell asleep.” Tyler looks like a poor wounded animal and you almost feel bad for him. Almost.

“You had one job, man.” You groan flicking the side of his head with your finger.

“And you…” You quickly twist yourself around towards the backseat to where Dylan’s sitting.

“Your drunken ass got around everywhere last night huh? There’s a ton of pictures circulating online right now. All of which you’re clearly shitfaced!" You exclaim as a huge grin graces Dylan’s face.

“I was thirsty, Y/N.”

“Dylan…”

“Oh relax. No one saw me punch a douche bag named Brett in the VIP lounge at Hyde. I did good.” He says proudly.

“Son of a bitch! You were supposed to stay home, O’Brien.”  Ugh. It’s too early for this shit.

“Oops.”

“Oops? You can take your oops and shove it up your ass, pretty boy.” You narrow your eyes in his direction.

“Aw you think I’m pretty?” Dylan retorts without missing a beat.

“Piss off.” You mutter grumpily shifting back around in your seat.

“Well Y/N’s definitely a morning person.” Dylan cackles, making sure to file this useful tidbit away for the future.

“Where we going?” Tyler wonders out loud.

“You’ll see soon.”

“I need my beauty sleep. Wake me up when we get there.” Dylan mumbles stretching out in the backseat.

The tension that was once in the car has disappeared and you decide to lean your head back and rest as well. You actually get some shut eye but it’s rudely interrupted by a panicked hand shaking you.

“Is this…is that a lake?” Tyler’s shocked reaction continues as he whips his head around to look at everything we drive by.

“You’re a smart one.” You deadpan.

“But…”

“Shhh. Don’t wake Dylan up yet.” You whisper as Vic turns onto a long dirt road that leads to the house you picked out.

Tyler’s eyes are now bugging out of his skull and he looks ready to jump out of the moving car. For the love of god. These guys are so friggin high maintenance.

Once the car is thrown into park, you gingerly exit through the passenger side door. Tyler follows suit and waves you over to move away from the car. This should be good.

“This is a lake house!” Tyler does his best to keep his voice low while gesturing around wildly.

“And? You said he likes being by the water.”

“The ocean, Y/N. Don’t play stupid. I vetoed the lake house idea. They remind Dyl of the one his family had growing up. He refuses to go near one.”

“Yes I’m aware.” You shrug casually.

“Are you insane?”

“Probably. Regardless Dylan needs to face this shit, Tyler. Clearly the way he’s been coping isn’t working for him.”

“I know but…”

“O’Brien is a grown man. He can handle it…he’ll have to.”

“What the fuck?!” Oh shit. The beast is awake. You twirl around to see Dylan fuming as he takes in his tranquil surroundings.

“Welcome to your new place of residence.” You saunter over to him, pretending that rage isn’t painted on his features. Normally you’d be intimidated as fuck but you’re still too half asleep to care right now.

“You’ve gone too far, L/N. I’m officially done with this bullshit. You’re fired.” He seethes through gritted teeth.

“Nope. Tyler hired me.” You counter with sly smile.

“Oh he’s fired too.” Dylan shoots back before laying his whiskey brown eyes on his manger.

“You’re fired!” He loudly shouts at Tyler before turning his gaze to his driver.  

“And you’re fired!” The rockstar points at Vic then starts to furiously pace back and forth.

“Dylan…”

“Everyone’s fired!” He barks practically stomping the hard ground with his work boot.

“And here I thought you were gonna overreact.” You smirk knowingly. “Thanks for proving me wrong, O’Brien."

~

Masterlist 

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WIKIPEDIA MIDDLING REVIEWS, BUT THEY WERE SO MUCH EASIER TO HAVE FUN DOING WHAT WE DO

Startups almost never get it right the first time. By honest I don't mean that I'd slack in school. Google News or Slashdot or Delicious. Just call out my name, and you have to say, and the company saying no? Some languages are better than either of them? I found my stories pretty boring; what excited me was the idea of writing serious, intellectual stuff like the famous writers. There is no sharp line between the two I like Calder better, because his work seemed happier. It is a comfortable idea. Both Blogger and Delicious did that. They're not going to move to Albuquerque just because there are some smart hackers there they could invest in.

On the blunderometer, this episode ranks with IBM accepting a non-exclusive license for DOS. McCarthy had never intended to be implemented. It's fine to put The before the number if you really believe you've made an exhaustive list. Knowing that should help. The iPhone is the phone Steve Jobs wants. Java: public interface Inttoint public int call int i; public static Inttoint foo final int n return new Inttoint int s n; public int call int i; public static Inttoint foo final int n return new Inttoint int s n; public int call int i s s i; return s;; This falls short of the editor-damped writing in print publications. They didn't do anything fancy. Startup School, so I sent it to an editor I know.

If the world were static, we could have monotonically increasing confidence in our beliefs. But until this does start to happen, we know VCs are being too conservative. We see this already begining to happen in the Python example, where we are in effect simulating the code that a compiler would generate to implement a lexical variable. When we were visiting Yahoo to talk about being acquired, we had to interrupt everything and borrow one of their conference rooms to talk down an investor who was about to back out of a new funding round we needed to stay alive. Actually, the fad is the word blog, at least successful ones, tend to use problems that are too short to be meaningful tests. But while it certainly helps to be smart, it's not always a damning sign when readers prefer it. Editors. But because the product is only moderately appealing. It's like the word allopathic. If I had to go through high school again, I'd treat it like a day job. The hypothesis I began with mentions two other qualities, regularity and readability, not succinctness; it could also mean they don't have to give a talk in a few days beforehand, I'll sometimes play it safe and make the talk a list of n things is that we so rarely see analyses of this type.

But you know perfectly well how bogus most of these are. What the company should have done is address the fundamental problem: that the product is only moderately appealing, growth is ok but not great. Most VCs wouldn't want that, which is probably an overestimate, that's 2500 new companies. Your most basic advice to founders is just don't die, but the most successful startups it's a necessary part of the training of engineers. The most famous example is probably Steve Wozniak, who originally wanted to build microcomputers for his then-employer, HP. The trends we're seeing now are simply the inherent nature of the web. A friend of mine who knows nearly all the widely used languages uses Python for most of his projects. So you will not, as of this writing the empirical evidence says it's a net win.

You'd expect them to be cold and calculating, or at least businesslike, but often they're not. If it strikes you as odd that people still order electronic parts out of thick paper catalogs in 2007, there's a reason for that. And your brain seems to know this stuff to program in languages without macros, just as a landmark in the history of technology would want to underestimate the power of a programming language is how small it makes your programs. They still rely on this principle today, incidentally. I summed it up once like this: It's like we're married, but we're going to retrace his steps, with his mathematical notation translated into running Common Lisp code. No matter how much you like chocolate cake, you'll be asking at this point saying: what is this guy talking about? Whereas if they spent just three months developing something new, it would make his brain explode. When someone's offering to buy you for a price at which your stock is worth $5 million, saying no is equivalent to having $5 million and betting it all on one spin of the roulette wheel. Here's a VC saying no: We're really excited about your project, and we got Java applets. That is in fact the defining quality of Lisp: it was at the time. The PR people and reporters who spread such stories probably believe them themselves. These two are quite different criteria.

If you looked in the head of a 1950s auto executive, the attitude must have been made by a Swedish or a Japanese company. In some very energetic people's lives you see something like wing flutter, where they can put a lot of lines have nothing on them but a delimiter or two. It's amazing how easily you can reach out to people and get immediate feedback. The most successful sites are the ones that actually work. The combined code can be much shorter than if you had written your whole program in the language? So at that point Lisp had essentially the form that it has such a core is one of their aims. But if we're going to keep working on the startup. So we suspended disbelief and funded them.

Thanks to Robert Morris, Sarah Harlin, Trevor Blackwell, Jackie McDonough, Joel Lehrer, Marc Andreessen, and Harj Taggar for inviting me to speak.

[mywebfoot]

Sung Min x Ji Won fluff

FINALLY. Inspiration struck late Saturday night :D

Here’s some fluff about Song Sung Min and Song Ji Won. I hope you enjoy it! 

*~*~*~*~*

The first time it happened Ji Won almost didn’t notice. Sung Min brushed by her, and she caught the fresh, citrusy scent of his cologne. It tickled her nose, and she rubbed it absentmindedly.

“Nice cologne,” she mumbled.

Sung Min stopped in the middle of hunting a reference down in the bookcase. He glanced at her, uncertain how to respond. Thank you would seem to be too much  formality between friends. Why? would be overreacting. He simply clamped his lips together over the words and didn’t say anything.

The next time it happened, was 8pm in the newspaper office. Ji Won stared at the email. She tapped and rolled the little roller on the mouse, up and down, making the email list zip up and down a few times before coming to a rolling stop on the email with the job offer. A sunbae from four years ago had made the connection when her name made the papers over the sex harassment trial. They had a position for her, perhaps she could come visit the office one day.

All the hours put into research after the first victim had come forward, all the late nights digging into the mind of a paedophile she’d rather forget, the stories she heard that made her feel she would never scrub them from her brain. Sunbae said he’d heard about the “tremendous” work she put in for the trial.

She had not done it alone. Zip. Zop. The email scrolled into view again.

“Sungmin…”

He looked up from where he sat at his desk, frowning at the article he was editing.

She had not realised she’d spoken aloud. His was a name that was always on the tip of her tongue. A name that was linked to the past year of the trial. A name that was by her side recording the heart-wrenching testimonies. A name on her mind on when she popped the tab on a cold can of beer.

“What?” he said impatiently, arching one eyebrow. His  reading lamp lit his face from the bottom, making the contours of his familiar face change. He looked stern. In-charge. She got a glimpse of the big-shot editor he would one day be. He wouldn’t be the type to shout and throw his diva-weight around. No, that wasn’t Sung Min’s style at all. He was the kind of editor who guided with precision, and specified exactly what he wanted, and how he wanted it. It made her wonder if he’d be as demanding of the details in bed.

What.

She sat up straight. Something slithered low in her back.

He just rolled his eyeballs and turned back to his work.

*~*~*~*~*

“Kang Sunbae, what does sexual attraction feel like?”

Yi-Na chortled.

“Don’t laugh, I need to know. And you’re the one to ask. I can’t ask the young ones, I’m their sex guru. And I don’t think I want Yoon Sunbae’s excel formula for ‘sexy’.”

Yi-Na laughed out loud this time. Song Ji Won. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, as far as sex was concerned.

“Don’t you know?”

“No…. The women in the porn always just get straight to it. What does it feel like before people get into bed? I’ve seen some to lick their lips or pull at their own clothes… but that just seems like they’ve got the wrong size on.”

Yi Na’s laughter faded.

“It’s not fair that women don’t know. How does a woman know if she doesn’t have a little birdie that stands up to signal it?”

Yi Na bit her lip. She’d heard from the girls about the trial. How, as the details emerged, Ji Won had alternated crying and laughing wildly as her own memories of Moon Hyo Jin were validated. How some days she came home from the trial pale and silent, and on other days she came home jittery and drank more beer than she ought to.

Kang Yi Na was no youth counsellor, no do-gooder. She didn’t have the words to guide a virgin since her own virginity was many men ago. What did sexual attraction feel like?

“If feels… nice.” It was a tentative answer.

“Nice? That’s not a word. Give me details,” came Ji Won’s impatient voice.

“It feels like being drunk.”

“Dizzy?” Ji Won frowned. “I don’t see the porn women fall over?”

Yi Na clenched her teeth. Ji Won could be so damn literal.

“Like buzzy… happy…” she tried again.

“Sunbae. Seasick?”

“No! No!” Yi Na yelled into the phone. Some days giving a damn was so hard. Caring for other people took more out of her than she let on.

“It feels like being out of control, alright? Like your thoughts are being whispered in your ear and your brain is slipping on soap and your body is moving all wrong but you don’t care how scary that is because it feels so right and happy when you see him but he’s awfully nerdy and messy so you can’t understand why.”

Ji Won pulled the phone from her ear and stared at it. Yi Na being poetic was … not Yi Na.

“Sunbae…that was kinda… beautiful.”

Yi Na hung up on her.

Ji Won shrugged. Out of control was sexual attraction? Grumpy or not, Kang Sunbae had given her something to think about.

*~*~*~*~*

“Sung Min-ah.”

He knew that tone. He cut his eyes to her, standing next to him at the coffee counter while they waited for their java. She didn’t look at him, so he couldn’t read her face. He knew that tone though. It was a preamble to some long, complicated idea she’d thought up.

“What?” He made his tone impatient, but he was looking forward to hearing it. The way she thought was convoluted, frustrating, but ninety percent of the time it was also intriguing. He just had to put up with the ten percent of unadulterated garbage.

“I think I’m sexually attracted to you.”

Their coffee arrived, hers with extra whipped cream. The buzz of the coffeehouse faded. The barista chuckled. The man behind him whistled.

She handed him his double espresso.

“Did you hear me?”

Oh, he heard. He just didn’t know if he was listening to garbage or not.

“Shut up,” was all he could think of. He grabbed the coffee and marched out into the hot afternoon.

She scuttled behind him, skirts flying and scarf fluttering.

“Sung Min-ah, listen!” she said, trying to convince him. “I have the evidence. I can smell your cologne, and when I was in the shop the other day I smelt it again, and it made me think about how you smell, just generally, which is good and really male….are you listening?”

Sung Min kept his feet moving. The shop signs slid by but he kept his eyes straight ahead, and avoided the other pedestrians. She had to run to keep up. The top flew off her coffee and cream slopped over the edge of the cup.

“Slow down, yaa, Sung Min-ah! Then the other day, you bumped into me, and I wanted you to do it again, because it wasn’t you bumping into me, I mean it was you, but it felt like a man was bumping into me and I got scared but not like molester-scared! I could feel your muscles… and I wanted you to feel me up, but not in a creepy way, right?”

Sung Min sped up and turned the corner near the library.

“Sung Minnn!” she hollered over the heads of the other students as the distance between them widened a little. “Then, there was the day I imagined you in bed, but not sleeping, you know what I mean? So that’s crazy, because when did I ever see you in bed? Or even naked? That night at the motel doesn’t count, because you were dressed and grumpy and I was on the floor, and the car seat doesn’t count…mph…. Mmm.”

As first kisses go, it was pretty bizarre - A hot Monday afternoon, on the campus walkway on the way to the library, students filing around them, some impatient, some whipping out their handphones to take pictures of the couple french-kissing in public.

Sung Min bit and licked and ate her up whole. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight. Her first kiss. She did not want to faint. Hot coffee splashed to the ground.

Out of control.

[dancingalone21]

Stripped - Part 2

Summary: Being a high powered publicist, the reader is hired to work with the destructive rock star Jensen Ackles. Her task is to revamp his difficult image from the ground up. Will the reader succeed? Or will she get sucked into his crazy life? 

Pairing: rockstar!Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 2,429

Part 1

“You must be out of your damn mind, beautiful.” Jensen’s sudden shift in attitude catches you off guard, the smugness oozing out of him giving you goosebumps.

Why does this infuriating man have to be sexy as hell? And why does he have to be your client?! You continue to focus on Jensen who's now licking his kissable lips and it’s driving you insane. You need to shut this down. Now.

"Give me your phone." You sternly command springing up from the couch. Within seconds you're standing in front of the intoxicating man with your palm held out.

"Excuse me." Jensen immediately growls slipping back into his anger filled persona.

"Hand over your phone, Jensen." You repeat loudly, successfully holding back an eye roll.

"And why would I do that?"

"Cutting off communication. Remember? You'll get it back eventually."

"Just do it, man. I'll text the important people, tell them to contact me if they need to reach you." Matt adds as he stands up to stretch his legs around the room.

"This is happening whether you like it or not. Just go with the flow and make it easier on all of us. Ok?"

"It's password protected ya know. You won't be able to snoop on my ass." Jensen huffs with aggravation, then unwillingly pulls his iPhone from his jeans front pocket.

"Oh darn. My master plan is foiled." You sass back, not able to stop the giggle that follows. Matt joins in himself, ignoring the unimpressed puss on the rock star's face.

"So what's the plan?" Matt asks quietly, looking apprehensive but also hopeful.

You bring your attention back to Jensen who's sporting a pout as he sinks himself deeper into the couch. He's doing his best to watch the Seinfeld rerun on TV but you can tell he's too distracted at the moment.

"Let's go talk on the balcony, Matty." You quickly open up the glass slider door and settle into one of the cloth covered chairs. You can hear muffled grumblings from the two men until Matt stalks outside shutting the slider behind him.

"What did you get me into, dude?" You ask slightly amused as you watch Jensen through the glass door. Talk about glorified babysitting.

"Trust me, I know. The thing that kills me is that he's a good guy, he just...he does bad shit." Matt replies dragging his hand down his face. The poor guy looks exhausted and you realize that this plan needs to work not just for Ackles but for everyone in his life.

"I just told him that he's gonna be cut off from everyone and everything. An addict would be panicking and freaking the fuck out. Wanting to score as much shit as they can instead he's sulking like a little kid."

"Jensen doesn't get high as much as you'd think. At least not with the hard stuff." Matt wearily admits fumbling with the hem of his collared shirt.

"What..."

"Jay uses to distract himself when shit gets to be too much inside of his head. It happens sporadically. The bastard is lucky enough that it hasn't turned into an addiction yet."

“Um. Then why the rehab?” You wonder skeptically.  

“To stop his antics. Ackles is a stubborn fucker, Y/N. He won’t listen to anyone. I needed a way of keeping him under control. And rehab did that.”

“Matt."

"I know, I know. But listen...I've known Jensen for fifteen years. He gets into these destructive phases where any and all common sense flies out the fucking window. I know the signs by now and he was on the verge like six months ago. Hence his most recent stint in rehab."

You can sense Matt's sudden hesitation, he searches your face like he's debating if he should continue on or not. He's praying that you make good on your word instead of abandoning this whole arrangement.

"I remember reports of him overdosing like a year ago. Was that true?" You ask curiously.

"Unfortunately. It was the anniversary of his mom's death. He was already super stressed to begin with, everything became overwhelming and he went crazy." Matt sighs heavily flashing back to that awful night.

He found his friend's bloody, unconscious body lying in a heap of broken glass. Of all the places Jensen could have passed out, he ends up crashing down into a glass coffee table.

"I know it wasn't deliberate. But I also know...at the time he would've been fine with whatever the outcome."

"Jesus Christ, Matt. Please tell me you at least know the root of all this?"

"Mostly family problems. His dad specifically. They've had a volatile relationship ever since Jensen's mom Donna died. He was 18 when it happened."

"I guess I can add daddy issues to the list." You add softly making Matt sadly nod his head in response.

"The poor bastard's been dealing with the guilt and bullshit from his father for almost 12 years now. Honestly I don't blame him for wanting a break from it."

"Guilt about what?" You sneak a peek at Jensen to see that he's now fast asleep. He's slouched down further onto the couch and propped his boots up on a nearby ottoman. He looks so peaceful that you momentarily forget that he's a pain in the ass. The moment passes though when you hear what Matt's about to say.

"His dad blames him for Donna's death and he thinks his son doesn't deserve all of his success. It's why Jensen has a love/hate relationship with his career. He's passionate about it but then the remorse sets in and he almost wants to destroy it."

"Shit. Was it...I mean...did he..." You stumble out not expecting that answer.

"Yes it was his fault but it was an accident. It's not my place to get into details, hopefully you'll get him to open up eventually."

Well this is just fucking dandy. You've dealt with difficult situations before with your job but this one takes the cake. The fact that you have a personal history with one of the people involved makes this harder. And it definitely piles on more pressure than usual.

Deciding you've found out enough backstory for now, you and Matt start nailing down details for this ridiculous operation. He fills you in on where Jensen likes to go to relax and you have the perfect place in mind. You know this whole process will be tough enough for Jensen, so there's no way in hell he's going to another hotel. Too many temptations.

Heading back into the hotel room, you notice Jensen is now wide awake and shoving fruit loops into his mouth. Oh how this man kills you.

"Ok dude...we leave first thing tomorrow morning. So pack everything up that you need because you're not coming back here." You inform him, blocking his view of the TV screen.

"Huh?" Jensen mumbles with his mouth full, looking adorably perplexed by your words. Although his innocent act doesn't last long once he realizes you're on to his game.

"Do me a favor, Ackles. Stay. Here. Do not leave this hotel room until I come and get you tomorrow. And no visitors either. Your disappearing act starts now."

"Yeah that doesn't work for me." He waves you off with a defiant smile then continues eating his cereal.

"Don't worry, Y/N. I'll keep an eye on him." Matt shoots you a wink and it makes Jensen throw his head back while moaning theatrically. Drama queen.

You say your goodbyes then rush home and get to work. You don't have much time to get your preparations in order. Fortunately this isn't your first rodeo and you have plenty of connections that can help out in a pinch.

Your friend Veronica, who's a realtor, sends you info on rentals that have immediate availability. You find one that sounds like a winner then continue to get ready for this lovely adventure you're about to endure.

~

The next mornings sun shines too soon and you seriously regret checking your phone. You have a google alert setup for Jensen's name, so anytime the fucker makes headlines you get notified. And you've been notified a shit ton since you fell asleep last night.

Not only did the difficult rock star go out last night, his drunken ass hit a plethora of bars and clubs in LA. The evidence of it is littered everywhere online. Thanks so much for the help, Matt.

Apparently Jensen's god damn chaperone needs a chaperone himself. Fucking men. They never listen. You gave one simple instruction and Jensen couldn't keep his annoying self in line. And Matt...well Matt's gonna get a god damn earful once you see him.  

You stroll lazily up to Jensen's hotel room door with Starbucks in hand. After a couple of knocks, the door swings open to reveal a very large bald man who's sizing you up.

"Clif?" You giggle remembering Matt's description of Jensen's driver. Apparently he looks like a Rottweiler but has a heart of gold like a Golden Retriever.

"Yes, ma'am. And you must be, Y/N. Come on in."

You trail behind Clif into the other room and what's before you is almost comical. There's a hungover rock star sitting next to a nervous looking manager and they both look pretty miserable.

"Hello, boys. You ready to get this shitshow on the road?" You question fighting back a yawn.

Matt looks ready to speak but suddenly decides against it, instead he just nods in your direction. Jensen barely grunts a response, yanking his baseball cap down further onto his head.

Everyone finally piles into Clif's SUV to settle in for the ride. Of course he's the only one who knows where you're all headed. You decide it's better to keep the other two in the dark for the time being.

You let the quiet car ride go on for a bit. Mostly because you want your coffee to kick in before mentioning last night. Although the stupid cup of java is not strong enough because you're still fucking sleepy. Screw it.

"So tell me what happened last night, people. Cause it sure as hell wasn't what we agreed on." You glance between the two handsome men getting different reactions from each.

"For the record, I didn't agree to shit." Jensen interjects earning himself a dirty expression.

"It's my fault. I fell asleep." Matt looks like a poor wounded animal and you almost feel bad for him. Almost.

"You had one job, man." You groan flicking the side of his head with your finger.

"And you..." You quickly twist yourself around towards the backseat to where Jensen's sitting.

"Your drunken ass got around everywhere last night huh? There's a ton of pictures circulating online right now. I think this one is my personal favorite." You hold out your iPhone to show the photo and a huge grin graces Jensen's face.

"Kaleo! They're my boys, man."

"Jensen..."

"Oh relax. No one saw me punch a douche bag named Brett in the VIP lounge at Hyde. I did good." He says proudly.

"Son of a bitch! You were supposed to stay home, Ackles."  Ugh. It's too early for this shit.

"Oops."

"Oops? You can take your oops and shove it up your ass, pretty boy." You narrow your eyes in his direction.

"Aw you think I'm pretty?" Jensen retorts without missing a beat.

"Piss off." You mutter grumpily shifting back around in your seat.

"Well Y/N's definitely a morning person." Jensen cackles, making sure to file this useful tidbit away for the future.

"Where we going?" Matt wonders out loud.

"You'll see soon."

"I need my beauty sleep. Wake me up when we get there." Jensen mumbles stretching out in the backseat.

The tension that was once in the car has disappeared and you decide to lean your head back and rest as well. You actually get some shut eye but it's rudely interrupted by a panicked hand shaking you.

"Is this...is that a lake?" Matt's shocked reaction continues as he whips his head around to look at everything we drive by.

"You're a smart one." You deadpan.

"But..."

"Shhh. Don't wake Jensen up yet." You whisper as Clif turns onto a long dirt road that leads to the house you picked out.

Matt's eyes are now bugging out of his skull and he looks ready to jump out of the moving car. For the love of god. These guys are so friggin high maintenance.

Once the car is thrown into park, you gingerly exit through the passenger side door. Matt follows suit and waves you over to move away from the car. This should be good.

"This is a lake house!" Matt does his best to keep his voice low while gesturing around wildly.

"And? You said he likes being by the water."

"The ocean, Y/N. Don't play stupid. I vetoed the lake house idea. They remind Jay of the one his family had growing up. He refuses to go near one."

"Yes I'm aware." You shrug casually.

"Are you insane?"

"Probably. Regardless Jensen needs to face this shit, Matt. Clearly the way he's been coping isn't working for him."

"I know but..."

"Ackles is a grown man. He can handle it...he'll have to."

"What the fuck?!" Oh shit. The beast is awake. You twirl around to see Jensen fuming as he takes in his tranquil surroundings.

"Welcome to your new place of residence." You saunter over to him, pretending that rage isn't painted on his features. Normally you'd be intimidated as fuck but you're still too half asleep to care right now.

"You've gone too far, L/N. I'm officially done with this bullshit. You're fired." He seethes through gritted teeth.

"Nope. Matt hired me." You counter with sly smile.

"Oh he's fired too." Jensen shoots back before laying his eyes on his manger.

"You're fired!" He loudly shouts at Matt before turning his gaze to his driver.  

"And you're fired!" Jensen points at Clif then starts to furiously pace back and forth.

“Jensen...”

"Everyone's fired!" He barks practically stomping the hard ground with his work boot.

"And here I thought you were gonna overreact.” You smirk knowingly. “Thanks for proving me wrong, Ackles." 

~

[buttnekkidblackgirl]

Favorite Foundations for Dark skin

This is for y'all that are getting into makeup, this is for y'all that wanna look cute outside of work without looking overdone (y'all can’t always be on fleek at the grocery store…it needs to be said), or for y'all that WANT to look fleeky and en pointe. And this is ESPECIALLY for y'all that are grinding at the club,sweating all over your damn selves while trying to look put together and get your money in.

As you guys may know, while brands have gone a LONG way in expanding their shade ranges, buying makeup when dark skinned is a bit of a pain in the ass…and its worse when your skin tone is deeeeeepp and when you’re not “middle of the road brown” like myself. So I figured I’d compile a list of foundations that I’ve really liked. For reference, I’m an NW58 and I have normal skin. I’ll post a picture of myself for reference and place asterisks next to foundations that are long wearing. For now, just pretend that I’m Lupita Nyong'o 😁

Drugstore:

*Maybelline Fit Me Matte and Poreless: I’m in the shade 375 Java. This formula is pretty impressive for a drugstore foundation and the color match is pretty spot on. It’s squarely medium coverage and you can build it up to your liking (though I NEVER build the coverage of my foundations up…cake face is real). I’ve also noticed a difference in the size of my pores upon application…though it’s not a huge difference. The wear time is around 8-9 hours, True to the name, I stayed matte (though it has a pretty natural coverage)

L'Oréal True Match:I’m right in between C9 and 10…though I lean more C10 in the summer. Though I JUST learned that they expanded the warm series so I’m stoked to see if the undertones in that line lean more golden. I’d say that the coverage is the same as the Maybelline Fit me though it has SLIGHTLY less coverage. It has a very natural skin finish. The wear time is comparable to the Fit Me Matte and Poreless, though that foundation has some more staying power

* Black Opal True Color Stick: I’m in the shade Black Walnut. The color match is a little bit too olive for my liking so I find myself having to add red color adjusting drops to change the undertone. The coverage is medium to full and it has a demo matte finish. I hear that it has mixed results for oily girls but it’s been fine for me: the staying power is 8-9 hours

Affordably priced foundations you won’t find at drug stores/grocery stores:

*Sephora 10 HR Wear Perfection Foundation: in in the shade 65N Deep Ebony. This is the Toyota of foundations: its not flashy, it has a few minor kinks, but it gets the job done. The finish is very natural and skin like and I found it to have 9-10 hours of wear. The coverage is medium though I’m sure you can build it up to your liking. While it’s not dirt cheap, its not too bad seeing as how it’s sitting at Sephora for $20

*Ben Nye HD Matte Foundation: I’m in the shade Coco Soufflé though I can contour with Espresso bean (and when I get darker, it’s a decent match). DO. NOT. LET. PEOPLE. PLAY. AND. LIE. TO. YOU. This is FULL coverage. Y'all better tell me if someone is lying to you and tell you that this medium coverage. You only need to dip it lightly to cover your face though it’s VERY easy to get a natural coverage with it. The finish is demi-matte and the wear time is 12-16 hours. I’m serious. It’s also water proof, as I learned a few years ago when I was biking to work at McDonalds and was occasionally splashed with water from the smoothie machine. It’s $12 which is EXCELLENT for the quality and it lasts forever as a cream foundation. I’m too scared to use it everyday though seeing as how it’s made for theatre professionals. And you’d have to be an alien from outer space to not find your shade. There are over 84 different shades. If you live in Atlanta, you can buy this at Norcostco or find it online at MakeupMania.com (Camera ready Cosmetics is an option but their shipping is slow)

Mid to High End Foundations:

Bobbi Brown Skin Foundation SPF 15: I’m in the shade 10.25 cool espresso, which is my spot on match. Unfortunately, im the darkest shade in this foundation so for those of y'all whose skin tone runs deeper, you might have some difficulty getting a match. The coverage is light to medium and is very skin like and glowy in its finish. The wear time is 7-8 hours and the fact that it has SPF is a plus for me. I’m not sure how oily girls would fare with this though…

*Lancôme Teint Idole Ultra Longwear Foundation: I’m in the shade 555 Suede C. I never thought I’d justify purchasing a hyped up $47 foundation (and I still refuse…I’m surviving off of samples lol) BUT this foundation does indeed live up to its claims. It has a medium to full coverage (though it’s not cakey) and a Matte finish that’s pretty natural looking and doesn’t leave you looking dehydrated or corpse like. The wear time is 12-16 hours and is pretty much life proof, surviving sweat and the breakthrough of oil from the skin. Hell i slept in this foundation and it still looked good

*Estée Lauder Doublewear Stay im Place Foundation : I’m in the shade 8n1, a shade so obscure that it’s not even available on the Sephora website nor in a lot of retail locations. If you’re around my complexion, you’re best luck is in finding it online. It performs pretty similarly to the Lancôme Teint Idole, but it’s a bit more full coverage and mattifying

*Kat Von D Lock it Foundation: I’m in the shade Deep 81 cool which is the darkest shade. This is an extremely pigmented foundation…which explains why some reviews have dismissed it as being cakey. It’s really not…but since it can be a bit difficult to blend at times, you’ll need to work with it. I do not apply this straight onto my face and blend from there, i put ONE drop on my hand, and blend from there with both a buffing brush and a beauty blender. It’s worth it though. The wear time is 12-16 hours, has a Matte finish (though it’s not suffocatingly Matte but you will not need to blot), and at $30, the price point isn’t as “bad” as some similarly performing foundations

[bay42o]

1. What is your middle name?

Jo

2. Do you have any nicknames that aren’t derived from your actual name?

My dad used to call me slugger

2. Do you have any allergies?

Yes. Latex

4. What is the longest your hair has ever been?

Almost to my butt

5. How well can you write in cursive?

Pretty well

6. Name one item on your bucket list.

I want to visit Greece

7. Have you ever been on a blind date?

No

8. What is the oldest piece of clothing you still wear and how old is it?

A middle school shirt and yes

9. How often do you eat out at a fancy restaurant?

Not often

10. How grammatically correct are you when you text?

I think I do pretty good

11. Can you drive stick?

I tried once and it didn’t go well

12. What foreign country would you most like to visit and why?

Greece or the Bahamas

13. Nutella or peanut butter?

Peanut butter

14. At what age did you have your first kiss?

I was like 6

15. DC or Marvel?

Marvel

16. Have you ever hosted a wild party?

Nope

17. Name/author of the last book you read cover to cover. Do you recommend it?

Glass by Ellen Hopkins and I recommend if you’re into those sort of books

18. How many of your Facebook friends do you actually hang with?

I really don’t hang with anyone anymore

19. Have you ever donated blood?

I tried but I wasn’t allowed

20. From 1-10, how much do you like decorating for holidays?

8

21. Coffee or tea?

Coffee

22. What is your go-to Starbucks drink?

Carmel Frappuccino with a shot of espresso add java chips

23. Last show you binge watched?

CSI Miami

24. Dogs or cats?

Dogs

25. Favorite animated Disney character?

Ariel

26. Have you ever cooked a big family meal by yourself?

Yes. Lately a lot

27. Favorite winter activity?

Bonfires

28. Have you ever butt dialed anyone?

The cops

29. Can you blow a bubble gum bubble?

Oh yes

30. How early in the year do you start celebrating Christmas?

The day after thanksgiving 😂

31. What emoji best describes your life right now?

😐💪

32. Are you fluent in more than one language?

No I wish

33. What is the longest you’ve ever kept a New Year’s resolution?

Like a month

34. Have you ever successfully been on a diet? Did you gain any of the weight back?

Yes and yes

35. Are any of your grandparents still alive?

My dads father

36. How good are you at communicating through facial expressions?

Pretty good

37. Have you ever gotten a commercial jingle stuck in your head?

“It’s my money and I want it now”

38. Have you ever left a movie theater before the movie was over?

Yes I left during Benjamin Button. Too damn long.

39. Do you consider rapping singing?

To an extent

40. Does your home have a fireplace?

It does

41. Favorite non-chocolate candy?

Sour sweet tarts

42. If you could have only one superpower, what would you want and why?

To be able to fly.

43. Have you ever locked your keys in your car?

Yes I have

44. Do you listen to any religious music?

I actually do

45. Do you drink soda? If so, which one is your favorite?

Dr Pepper of Coke

46. What was your ACT score?

Idk didn’t do it

47. Rice or quinoa?

Rice

48. From 1-10, how good of a driver do you consider yourself?

8

49. Do you like horror movies?

Not really

50. How easily do you cry?

Pretty easy honestly

51. Do you have any tattoos? If so, of what and where?

19 and they’re randomly places

52. You are hanging with your closest friends. What are you most likely doing?

Watching a movie

53. Can you handle spicy foods? What is your spice limit?

Not really

54. Can you play any musical instruments? If so, which ones?

Piano

55. Are you more introverted or extroverted?

Introverted

56. Last CD you bought?

TLC crazy sexy cool

57. Do you like roller coasters?

No

58. What day of the week is laundry day for you?

Like everyday

59. Have you ever played spin the bottle?

Yes

60. How long have you known your best friend?

Like 16 years

61. Can you eat using chopsticks?

No

62. Do you have any stickers on your laptop computer? If so, what are they of?

They cover my laptop

63. How often do you say y'all?

A lot

64. Favorite flavor of ice cream?

Butter pecan

65. How long was your longest relationship? Are you still with that person?

Over 4 years on and off and idk what’s going on anymore tbh

66. Star Trek or Star Wars?

Star Wars

67. How good are you at math?

Pretty good

68. Have you ever acted in a play or a musical?

I have

69. How often do you read/pay attention to your horoscope?

Like everyday almost

70. What is the shortest your hair has ever been?

A little longer than my ears 😂

71. Have you ever broken any bones?

Toes, fingers and my elbow

72. Do you like to go fishing?

Love it

73. Do you believe in evolution?

Not really

74. Favorite costume you wore for Hallowen? How old were you?

Poison Ivy and I was like 23

75. Real or fake Christmas trees?

Fake

76. How many pillows do you sleep with?

Like 4

77. Do you live in an apartment or a house?

House I guess

78. How many of your friends are of the opposite gender?

Not many

79. Have you ever had a near-death experience?

A couple

80. How long have you been at your current job?

Almost 3 years

81. What kind of car do you drive (year, brand, model, color)?

Black 2012 Kia Optima ex gdi

82. How flexible are you?

Not very

83. Have you ever ended a romantic relationship?

Yes

84. Phrase you say the most?

True that

85. Have you ever kissed anyone of the same gender? If so, did you like it?

Love it

86. Do you own any homemade clothing?

I actually do

87. Do you like fast food?

I do

88. Have you ever given anyone CPR?

A doll

89. Have you ever learned to do anything from a how-to video on YouTube?

Yes I have

90. Describe your sense of humor.

Great

92. Favorite cereal?

Captain crunch

93. Have you ever auditioned for a reality competition show?

No

94. Have you ever gotten a TV theme song stuck in your head?

Reading rainbow

95. Do you believe in ghosts?

I do

96. Do you think there is life on other planets?

I do

97. Have you ever given money to a street performer?

Yes

98. Your deepest fear?

Dying probably

99. Pancakes or waffles?

Pancakes

100. Are you still friends with anyone from high school?

I am

101. From 1-10, how good of a dancer do you consider yourself?

2

102. How much of a patient person are you?

Very impatient

103. Do you know your IQ?

Nope

104. Do you eat meat at all?

I do

105. Do you own any clothes from a garage sale or a thrift store?

Plenty

106. Have you ever bought anything from a flea market?

Yes I have

107. Have you ever quit a job?

I have

108. Have you ever gotten a song you dislike stuck in your head?

Yes

109. Any movie(s) you can watch over and over and over again and enjoy just as much each time?

Waterworld

110. Do you or have you ever worn glasses?

Yes I need new ones

111. Have you ever skinny dipped?

I have

112. Are your birth parents still together?

My dad died but they would still be together

113. Have you ever been in the audience for the taping of a TV show?

No

114. Favorite type of cookie?

Chocolate chip

115. Have you ever been broken up with?

I have

116. How often do you smile when getting your picture taken?

Not often

117. Have you ever accidentally dialed 911?

Yes

118. Oldest memory?

My brother running me over with a go cart

119. Have you ever been the victim of a nasty prank?

I have

120. How often do you snort when you laugh?

Too often

121. From 1-10, how good of a singer do you consider yourself?

3

122. Favorite Disney song?

Fly to your heart by Selena Gomez

123. Where do you see yourself 10 years from now?

Happy

124. What is your Myers-Briggs personality type?

Huh

125. Have you ever had a fortune cookie fortune come true?

I have

126. Name one thing you wish people would stop posting on social media.

Animal abuse!

[purplesurveys]

373

If you have a job, who’s your closest friend at work?: I don’t, but my closest friend in university is probably Laurice. We’re not best friends or anything but she’s the easiest one to talk to. I’m also close with Kate, Jo, and Aya.

Do you have any exercise equipment in your home?: My mom does. I’ve mentioned this before but she has a rowing equipment thingy and a couple of dumbbells.

Were your parents born in the same country they now live in?: Yes, which is where I live too.

How did you celebrate New Years last year?: I spent the night with my siblings and cousins and watched them play Resident Evil, because horror is always a good idea.

What would you do if you found a wallet containing $100 on the street?: Social media usually does the job the fastest so I’d go for that. But if I found it in a place I’m familiar with, like in my college, then I’d turn it in to admin.

Have you told anyone you love them today?: My dog.

How many hours of sleep did you get last night?: Around nine. I’m savoring all the sleep hours I can get because I go back to school in two weeks, and I’ll never be able to sleep this long again.

Are you in any physical or emotional pain right now?: I mean I’m sad as always, but it’s not rearing its ugly head at the moment.

What’s the time right now?: 5:58 PM.

Is the sun still up, or is it dark?: Sun just set so it’s getting increasingly dark.

Have you seen all The Hunger Games films that have been released so far?: I saw just the first movie, cos there was a time that one of the movie channels we have would air it every damn day.

Is there an automatic fog light in your yard?: No, we don’t get fog.

When was the last time you used the bathroom?: Maybe a little over an hour ago? if I remember correctly.

How many living grandparents do you still have?: Three.

Are you currently in a relationship?: Yuuuup.

Have you ever heard people having sex in the next room?: No hahahaha oh my god, I can live the rest of my life without knowing how that sounds like.

What are your plans for the rest of the day?: Look at memes, go on Twitter, watch some wrestling, play with my dog, whatever comes to mind really.

How many times have you been sick this year?: Zero but the year is young. < This is pretty much it, but I doubt I’d get sick...

Is there a garage or carport attached to your house?: We have a carport, yes.

Were you born somewhere other than a hospital?: Nope.

Do you fold or scrunch?: Fold. I don’t think I know what scrunching is.

Have you ever been on a strict diet and exercise regime?: No, I never really had to.

Who did you text today, and what did you talk about?: I haven’t sent texts to anyone today. Detoxing from irl people is RealTM, you guys.

What colour is your toothbrush?: Purple and white.

Do you have a favourite author?: No, if we were talking about fiction because I don’t really enjoy fiction works. I base my favorites off of who I think writes the best autobiographies, and Chris Jericho is high up on my list.

Is Christmas a joyful time for you, or just plain stressful?: It’s both. I like making my friends (read: mostly my girlfriend) smile with my gifts, but I feel lonely because I wish I had a family to feel festive with.

How long do you usually take in the shower?: 7-10 minutes. I never take long unless I’m staying at a hotel, in which I choose to treat myself and could stay in the shower/bath for an hour if I wanted to.

Have you ever worked in an office?: I job-shadowed once, which is like interning but not really.

Who does the grocery shopping in your house?: My mom.

How many times have you been out of state that you can remember?: Too many. My dad loves going out of town when he’s home, so we’ve practically been around the whole country save for Mindanao, cos my mom is scared of the situation there.

Have you ever stayed in a hotel without your parents or older relatives?: Just once, for my 18th birthday.

Do you prefer margarine or butter, and why?: Butter. Margarine is like poor man’s butter; or at least that’s how we see it here. I’ve never tried it before.

What time do you plan to wake up tomorrow?: We go to church Sunday mornings so I definitely have to be up earlier than 9.

What is your favourite way to eat rice?: Java rice, fried rice, or dirty rice.

Have you ever been in serious trouble at work or school?: Nothing more than getting reprimanded once or twice. I got called to the guidance counselor’s office one time, but I was 8 and in a kid-fight, so I don’t count that.

Do you have any strange fears or phobias that you’re embarrassed of?: I absolutely avoid watching ads at night. I’m not exactly embarrassed of it, but it’s an irrational fear I’d rather keep from everyone.

Can you smell anything right now?: Nope.

Would you be scared if you saw 5 missed calls from one of your parents?: Hahahaha yes. My dad’s a bit more chill and wouldn’t call more than once, but I’d be scared of the hurricane waiting at home if I ever miss calls from my mom.

Have you ever kissed anyone under the mistletoe?: No.

Do you own a pair of gumboots or wellies?: No, I wouldn’t have much use for them.

When was the last time you watched a movie? Does Bandersnatch count as a movie? I watched it last week.

Do you know anyone who struggles with a mental disorder?: Of course.

What’s your go-to activity when you’re bored?: Watching videos. I get anxious when I’m bored, and YouTube quickly fixes the problem.

Have you ever been vegan or vegetarian?: I’ve been neither, but I’ve been experimenting with veganism and will always get a vegan meal if I see it on a menu.

Are you tired right now?: Not really, I napped all afternoon so I’m pretty awake now.

[iyarpage]

Anti-patterns part 2: Coding is the biggest Golden Hammer of all

In my previous post I explained how software anti-patterns are symptoms of bad habits that can be endemic to entire teams. Today I want to talk about what is perhaps the most infamous of all: the Golden Hammer. Actually, it’s a collection of hammers that makes up the toolbox from hell.

The Golden Hammer anti-pattern is a result of narrow focus, which in itself is an admirable and even necessary character trait for many pursuits: there’s a lot to admire in people who become experts in their chosen specialised field. It takes dedication and stamina. Science wouldn’t have made it to its present state without it. However, what makes a hammer golden is having experience and affinity with a technique (framework, language) that in itself has a limited range of applications but that you misapply through overuse. The operative words are rash thinking, tunnel vision and bad fit. You tend to have your solution ready before you understand the problem, like a doctor writing a prescription before the patient has finished telling what ails her. Worse: you always prescribe the same drug. Instead of the metaphor of the hammer and the nail you could also think of the Golden Shoehorn or the Cinderella pattern: you have only a single shoe and need to make every foot fit. That’s gotta hurt.

We all know how this Golden Hammer experiment ended up…

Mind you that it’s not the technique itself that constitutes a Golden Hammer: it’s people that make it so. Sure, this smacks of the dubious argument “guns don’t kill people; people do”. Like some guns are more lethal than others, some tech is a more likely candidate for hammering. If it’s hard to learn, expensive, and yet has limited usefulness, you can bet the fanboys will stretch it to breaking point.

Golden Hammers are often lumped together, but they’re not created equal and we should make some distinctions for better understanding. Within a language, there’s the pet design patterns, not only rampant in junior developers who just heard about the Gang of Four, but also popular with abstraction fetishists in general. Team consensus about coding which is more mature than discussing tabs versus spaces can hopefully improve this. Management need not be involved: they won’t understand.

Then there’s the Golden Hammer tool stack, by which I mean a favoured solution from a list of possible alternatives with highly overlapping functionality: Glassfish, Tomcat, Wildfly, Websphere (I wish I were kidding). The spate of web frameworks I won’t even begin to list. The way some stacks can become a bad fit (and hence golden hammers) is that the world catches up with their paradigms: GWT’s Java to JavaScript compilation was a good idea in the days of IE7, when browser incompatibilities were a major migraine compared to today’s occasional mild headache. By now its unique selling point has become far less relevant while browser languages have matured.

We’re getting into even murkier water with a third sub-category: the architectural shoehorn. This is a mindset that pervades entire organisations, and the predominance of the relational database is a good example. You see it in organisations where secure and (ACID) reliable storage are top priorities, like in banks and insurance companies. When the database is the architecture, all applications are tightly coupled to this single linchpin and bottleneck. Within these organisations you will find a species of developer fluent in SQL, who can automagically turn every requirement into an entity-relationship diagram. Even if you get them to admit that their Oracle isn’t always the best fit, they’ll concede it’s the only fit they know, or are allowed.

There must be something irresistible about the Golden Hammer, or we wouldn’t be grabbing it so often. To begin with, it feels familiar. New frameworks with incompatible new versions are hurled at us at a frantic pace. It sucks having to tread water like a newbie all the time. Please man, just give me some time to become good at this so I can feel productive!

Then you have familiarity or status quo bias: there’s an evolutionary advantage to preferring what is familiar over what is new. Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t, or if Chinese philosophy is more your speed: the fastest route between two points is the road you know. Sticking with what you know does have its advantages. It makes for more predictable planning because there are fewer unknowns. No optimistic early adopter bloggers who claim that all it takes to upgrade from Angular 2 to 4 is a single npm statement (like so much on the internet, this is a damn lie). Everyone in the team is comfortable with the toolset or at least knows its quirks — until they get a nervous sense that all this legacy tech looks bad on their cv and they leave.

I was saving the biggest hammer for last because I need to warm you up for the following bold claim: I consider writing code itself to be the biggest Golden Hammer of all. Why is that? It’s because developers like coding so frigging badly. But there’s more to developing software than writing code. We know it, and promptly forget it. It’s like the popular Hollywood monster movie pattern where our heroes anxiously wonder where the monster has gone, at which point the camera zooms out, the orchestra kicks in, and they run for their lives. It’s the Millennium Falcon caught in the belly of the worm.

If you step into a Mercedes dealership they will try to sell you a Mercedes, because that’s what they have. They don’t care whether you have a place to park it. They’re not going to recommend a Toyota, even when they question your disposable monthly income. They’ll assume you can afford it. When a customer comes to a software company they’ll assume that customer wants a software solution to their problem. But it’s the customer who assumed it in the first place, and perhaps it was a mistaken assumption. If we are truly committed to customer satisfaction we should tell them “sure, we can build it, but you’d be wasting your money”.

Every course on software architecture and requirements engineering will teach you that you need to decide early on whether to build or buy the solution, either entirely or in part. You need senior techies to help you decide, but it would be wiser if these are not the ones who doing the actual coding. “Can we get this meeting over with, my fingers are itching and I don’t care if it’s been done already”. The not-invented-here syndrome is a pure example of coding for coding’s sake.

Here are the alternatives to writing it yourself that you should always consider and which to the Golden Hammer coder will always suck:

There’s an existing product that serves most of the customer’s needs. Don’t re-write it. You couldn’t possibly make it economically viable.

You (as a person or an organisation) don’t have the skills that it takes: let someone more experienced do it. They will do a better job, and probably cheaper too.

Don’t solve it with software at all. That’s right: just keep doing it by hand.

Being passionate about coding is already a double-edged sword, but being in love with a language or framework is positively weird. I have been there myself with GWT, but in the end you’ve got to admit that even the coolest tech is just a tool, just as the software we’re building with it is a means to an end. I can’t really identify with job descriptions that ask for people “passionate about Java”. Sorry, but I’m passionate about making software, not about Java. I wouldn’t shed a single tear if the world switched to Kotlin overnight. Well, tears of joy perhaps.

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