#and also i do not care for tim. once again i am a Hater

[hinokas-abs]

my number one flaw as a dc fan is that i’m a dc fan. my second is that i’m just a massive hater

[chevelleneech]

Put me in the writer’s room, Tim!

Y’all know what would really spark Eddie’s feelings realization in s8?

Buck going missing.

Not injured, because he’s been physically hurt enough, but just missing. I don’t think we’ve seen him lost and the others having to find him, because the only time that would have been necessary was during the tsunami, and they didn’t know he was caught in it.

So I imagine it something like what the show Found did. They had a great episode where a couple went missing on a hike, and the woman got seriously injured, so the guy— a nurse— stayed with her to give her his blood until help came. Now, neither Buck nor Tommy are nurses, but I imagine Tim and co could figure out a way to have them go on a hiking date, then Tommy gets injured— solely because I do not want Buck injured again— and Buck secures him in one spot as he tries to find his way out of the ravine they fell down or something.

And because I’m not a BuckTommy hater as I’m sure some of their fans think, this would also serve as an episode that could open the door for us to learn what exactly Buck likes about Tommy. What is he seeking by dating Tommy, and whether or not in a moment of life and death, if Tommy is the person Buck wants to have a future with. An episode like this could easily be a “Buck Begins Again”, and focus on his sexuality and whether or not he truly never realized he likes men or was just suppressing it.

Now, imagine all of that happening on Buck’s day off around mid-day, then the next morning the 118 are starting their shift and everyone is confused as to why Buck isn’t at work. Gerard doesn’t give a fuck, obviously, and feels it’s an easy win to firing him, but Eddie is all… “No, something must be wrong. Buck is never not here..” So they call Tommy, but he of course doesn’t answer. Then they call Bobby, who talked to him the day before maybe, and says something like “He said he and Tommy were headed back. Maybe they got caught up or he’s just running late?”

So of course when Buck doesn’t answer anybody all morning, they all start to freak out because Buck doesn’t ghost people. He is the complete opposite of the type, but everyone is also still caught up at work and with Gerard and Councilwoman Ortiz breathing down their necks, they can’t jump to look for him. But you know who can? Maddie. And maaaaaayyyyybe we can wiggle it where Eddie had a scheduled trip to Texas to finally talk to Chris is person, but he’s conflicted about going now, because… it’s Buck. Chris would hate him even more if something happened to Buck, but he’s worried Chris will feel pushed aside again if he doesn’t go.

He ultimately decides to stay and help Maddie look for Buck though, because 1) if Gavin is really gone, obviously there’s no scenes to be had in Texas 2) he slowly realizes Buck means way more to him than he thought possible.

And because I am a Buddie prefer-er, Buck would also end the episode realizing dying on the side of a mountain as he grows increasingly dehydrated and tired, that the people he’d miss saying goodbye to the most does not include the man he walked up the mountain with. It’s Maddie; his sister and the woman who raised him to be the kind man he is today. Bobby; the man who took him under his wing and treated him the way a true father is supposed to. Christopher; the kid he didn’t know he wanted, but has given his heart to as a step-father-figure. And Eddie; the man he built a family unit with and whom he broke down over nearly losing more than once, whose home is a place of peace and comfort for him.

All of that said… am I looking forward to whatever s8 has in store? Not completely, and I already stated my piece on why. The way this season ended was pretty subpar, and because Tim and co refused to have Buck and/or Eddie so much as mention in passing the assumptions people have about them dating or any possible feelings for each other, I truly am not awaiting anyone’s future story arcs. I will still watch and care for the characters, hopefully, but putting thought into whatever eventually plays out on screen? I’m done. As of right now in canon, nothing is being resolved, everything is repetitive, and the actors are reaching a point of being like, “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m sure it’ll work out.” Which is a bad sign. So I’m in headcanon all the way territory, and will enjoy what the actors I support put out as objectively as I can.

[morathicain]

A change of heart

So, I’ve written this MimEve chapter with a TimTin one in mind and decided to post it on Ao3 AND Tumblr. In case anyone is interested.

To make this very clear: Mim haters don’t interact!

@everyone else: Have fun! =^^=

(Ao3)

A change of Heart

Sometimes, it felt almost funny how much things could change in the span of a few days and weeks and months.

Only three weeks ago, Mim had been hiding in Tin’s house, believing everyone to be her enemy, giving up on her life, her future.

She’d hated Eve and Tim, had tried to protect herself by believing Tin would betray her too.

Now, she was sitting at the big table in Tin’s house, leaving over new drafts and designs, as if she hadn’t felt burned out only a short time ago.

Her knees were pressed against Eve’s, a comfortable reminder of how far they’d come in their friendship. They were whispering, even though they hardly needed to. Nothing they talked about needed any privacy and Tin and Tim were too occupied to care.

Tin had wanted to study, originally, but when Tim had accompanied Eve on her visit, that endeavour had failed instantly. Not only because it seemed Tim’s biggest goal was to annoy Tin, but also because Tin let him, his eye-roll by more almost fond.

Mim had once asked Tin why he let Tim so close again and again and Tin had grumbled something about “thankful for the support during the case” and “not so bad” and “he gets worse if I ignore him”.

“Are you doing this for me?”

The look he’d given her had been one of utter confusion.

She’d tried to clarify for him: “Because Eve kind of likes him and drags him with her?”

“I ... I try.”

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s okay.”

And he’d seemed so sure on it, she’d dropped the topic. Because she’d learned to trust him and his words and not second guess it all the time as she’d done before.

Now, it was almost funny to watch him prepare some fruit, probably for her and Eve, while being chatted at by Tim who leaned against the counter with his hip.

He really was a handsome guy, but the way she wasn’t attracted to him anymore really surprised her. He could have been stark naked in front of her and she’d have shrugged.

“Mim?”

The pressure against her knee got stronger and Mim felt her face heating up, her pulse racing. Just for a bit.

”Why did you bring him with you?”

“Who?”

Mim nodded towards Tim as subtle as possible. He seemed to be making a joke right now since even Tin seemed to smirk or smile at it, even if it was barely a shadow.

“I wouldn’t have”, Eve shrugged and leaned even closer, for whispering reasons, “But he said Tin had invited him? Or at least accepted his self-invitation?”

Mim huffed: “Tin wanted to study.”

“Aaaaah”, Eve said as if that explained everything suddenly.

“What? Why such an ‘ah’?”

But Eve only smiled: “Seems Tin is warming up to him?”

“It feels more as if Tim grew on him like a fungus during the investigation. You sure you want to give him a chance?”

This time, the reply was a shrug: “We will see once he’s properly changed himself.”

This, somehow, made Mim angry for once.

“He doesn’t deserve you.”

“You think so?”, Eve’s smile was almost secretive.

“Of course! He’s been an asshole and he’s used you!”

“So, you think I shouldn’t forgive past sins?”

At that, Mim shut up, her teeth almost hurting from the pressure. She’d forgotten. Almost. And still ...

“You even think he can change?”

“Didn’t he already?”

Of course, he had. Even she could see it. And Tin letting him close was another important sign. But why was it so difficult to admit? Because she feared Eve might instantly let him date her?

“He has”, she finally admitted when the pressure against her leg got too much, Eve’s elbow now hers as well, “But I am still afraid he’ll hurt you.”

Wistfully, Eve nodded and Mim felt even worse, knowing that smirk too well.

“So, you finally know how I felt back when the two of you started dating?”

Oh damn, she’d forgotten about that.

“I want you to be happy.”

“As do I.”

Now, her heart was definitely racing and Mim felt the heat in her cheeks but refused to touch them, knowing she’d betray herself then.

Suddenly, a soft hand took hers and covered it with a cool touch.

“Nothing has been decided, Mim. And should I really date him, I will remind you of your own words.”

“Hng?”, was all Mim could say, her attention mostly on her hand, not on Eve’s words.

“It’s my own responsibility, even if I get fooled.”

It was like a bucket of ice water right over her head.

Oh, how right Eve was and how very much Mim hated her own words now.

~~~

It became somewhat of a regular occurrence at Tin’s house. At their house. As Tin loved to say again and again.

And Mim could see it. This being her home as well because she loved it here way more than in her old apartment. Than anywhere else.

It was bright and big and warm and Tin was there, with a smile, usually, and Eve as well, more often than not. She even grew accustomed to Tim over time, not understanding properly why he was there but realising that he wasn’t disturbing any peace. Except for Tin’s, maybe. But then, Tin didn’t really complain, only grumbled now and then before making Tim help in the garden or kitchen, dragging him with him each time he. Eve even swore that she’d seen Tim help Tin study but Mim wouldn’t believe it without proof.

Somehow it had truly become her home with every sun-filled corner, all those dark wooden pieces of furniture and those arms she could lean back into when it was all too much.

Those arms were Tin’s, for sure, but also Eve’s by now, the more time they spent together, chose to spend their free time together as well.

“We don’t see each other as often at work anymore”, Eve had pouted and Mim could have sworn that her heart was about to jump out of her chest as she’d stared at her friend, speechless and confused.

“We see each other”, she’d said, dumbfounded.

“Only at meetings”, Eve had continued while casually gripping Mim’s hand despite the cold sweat, “You don’t want me to come over?”

And Mim had been lost.

“Always”, she breathed, her face and neck heating up, “As often as you want to.”

And there it had been, Eve’s soft and happy smile. One, Mim had almost destroyed himself with everything she’d done. One she now treasured even more.

“Good.”

And then, Eve had turned back to the game on the table between them to end Mim with her next move, all the while holding on to Mim’s hand. And Mim, competitive by nature, didn’t even care for once.

~~~

It was their home by now, a year after Giwi had gone to jail and half a year since Mim’s own brand had started, four months since Tin had started his studies to become a teacher. It was their home but sometimes Mim still wondered. Wondered how long this would work out. What would happen once a tiny variable in their lives would change.

“What will you do if I fall in love again?”, she asked one evening, securely cuddled against Tin’s chest while they were watching TV.

For a short moment there, Tin tensed but then relaxed again, his fingers continuing to brush lightly over her arm in circles.

“You mean when you fall in love again.”

She could basically hear his smile and felt her own tension rise and drop again as he tightened his hold for a bit.

“I don’t know”, she admitted, “I am happy like this and I don’t know if I’ll want another romantic relationship again.”

Tin hummed and the sound travelled through them like a calming wave.

“Don’t you believe me?”

“Oh, I do”, he promised, “But I also want to prepare myself. Just in case.”

The guilt rose once more in Mim’s chest and she scooted to the side to look at him properly.

Of course, he knew what was up, the corner of his mouth lifted for a crooked smile: “Don’t feel guilty. It’s what we agreed on.”

“I know, but still ...”

Once in a while they had this conversation and would always end at the same agreement.

They were happy like this right now. They wouldn’t change anything as long as they were happy. They would accept whatever the other wanted once they wanted something different.

“But just in case”, she started again, “What would happen to our home if I fell for someone else again?”

Tin looked at her calmly but she knew he was thinking furiously and she let him, didn’t want to pressure him.

When Tin finally spoke again, his voice seemed so soft, she almost feared it might break.

“When you fall in love again and want a romantic relationship with this person, this will still be your home.”

“But ...”

“As long as you consider it your home and want to live here, you have a place and a room. And even if you want to move out, you can always come back.”

The old and familiar pain seemed to stretch in Mim’s lungs, taking her ability to breathe properly as white noise took over in her ears.

It felt as if her tongue was too thick and heavy to talk properly, to form the right words, but Mim still tried. Still needed to try.

“And what if you are the one who falls for another person?”

It wasn’t what he’d expected and she could see it by the way his eyes widened and his breath hitched and his fingers seemed to try to hold on to nothing for a split second.

But he still answered, even though it must be hard and he still remained calm, something she would forever be thankful for.

“Even if I fall for someone else, I will still love you. Just maybe in a different way.”

It was meant to reassure her and she appreciated it, but it wasn’t the answer.

“What will happen to our home then?”

As she watched the determination take a hold over him, his back now straight and his gaze clear, she knew this had never been a question and maybe never would be.

“It’s still our home. For as long as you want it to, I promise you.”

“Even if you and your wife will be living here then? Won’t she get angry?”

By now, Tin almost seemed annoyed with his imaginative future spouse and he rolled his eyes, a bit more comfortable as he leaned back.

“She won’t be my wife if she’s going to have a problem with my best friend living here. It’s the way we are and she’ll have to accept it.”

“You’re naive”, Mim chuckled and feared, a bit, but let herself be pulled back into an embrace by Tin.

“Maybe”, he sighed, “But that’s for another day to see. Why should we care about people who don’t even exist yet?”

Mim frowned and looked up at him: “She better exists already or I will haunt your ass!”

It took a moment of utter confusion, but when he got it, Tin let out a deep and rich laugh and Mim felt something settle, at least for the moment.

She was still so afraid of being hurt, but also of hurting Tin and she’d never be able to let it slide completely. But for now, they were good. For now, they were content.

And she wondered, who those possible partners were, waiting for them. Had they met already? Or would they never cross ways?

As Tin pressed a short kiss to her temple, she sighed and cuddled even closer. Those questions were truly for another time, another future.

~~~

Oh ... Oh!

Her hand frozen midair, Mim’s thoughts were reeling, chaos by her own making and she felt herself trembling.

This ... this couldn’t be! This shouldn’t be, this was allowed to be at all and she’d ... fuck. She’d fallen for her best friend.

And as the realisation sank, as Mim continued to stare at Eve’s sleeping face right in front of her, another thought dropped.

It was the wrong friend. The wrong best friend. She’d managed to fall for someone and it was the wrong fucking person. Again.

Because Eve would never love her back. Not like this. And the knowledge was devastating.

It had been a calm Saturday evening with Mim and Eve at the beach. Just when they’d left, it had started to storm, heavy raindrops falling to the earth, soaking their clothes in seconds.

Tin’s house had been closer and they’d gone there first, dripping and giggling like two school girls on a night trip.

“Take a shower and wait till it gets better”, Mim had offered Eve to keep her from driving home during such a storm and also because there was this urge, deep in her stomach, to spend the rest of the evening with her friend.

Because what could be better than sitting together, drinking some tea and watching the world end? Nothing, of course.

“I don’t want to impose”, Eve had tried but Mim had known it had all been for show.

“You don’t. I am happy to have you here and you can even sleep over if you want to.”

Fuck. She’d said it too fast, she’d realised and had almost bitten her tongue. She’d wanted to wait and then propose for Eve to stay the night. The idea alone had felt like a dream from her childhood, to have a friend over and stay up late. Not a boyfriend and not Tin, but a girl friend.

Still, it might have been a dream of hers but she’d felt needy now, too eager for an adult, a grown woman.

But Eve had smiled at her, almost secretively.

“Sure. That sounds like fun. But I’ve promised my dad to have breakfast together tomorrow.”

“It’s okay”, Mim had hastily replied, feeling the nervousness taking a hold over her, “You can leave whenever you want.”

“Then I’ll stay”, and this time Eve’s smile had been broad and honest, her beauty taking Mim’s breath away.

No wonder, she’d thought as she’d stared, her face a hot mess, Tim had fallen for her and was still trying to woo her. No wonder Pitch had been devoted to her. No wonder the people loved her. No wonder Mim herself did so as well.

Eve was everything she wasn’t and it wasn’t only because of the money. Her beauty, inside and out, was radiating and stunning and Mim caught herself holding her breath each time she witnessed it.

The fact that Eve had been soaked to the bone right now, her shirt partially transparent, her hair clinging in wet strands to her throat, her collarbone, hadn’t made anything better. Or easier.

Nothing, in fact, had been easy, as Mim had tried not to stare at her best friend and the skin visible beneath her shirt, which was holding on for dear life it seemed. It had made Mim want to reach out, to brush strands of hair to the side, to pull the shirt over Eve’s head and the thought had made her shudder and stop and ...

“You should take a shower first then”, Mim had tried to smile and of course, Eve had smiled back.

“Is that okay for you?”

Mim had nodded hastily: “I will prepare everything till you’re ready.”

But mostly she’d have to go back into the rain and clear her head. Probably.

In the end, she’d ended up talking to Tin instead.

After she’d realised that he wasn’t even home, she’d texted him and he’d called back, frustrated.

“I’m at a friend’s house. Got stuck studying and now the storm is too much to come back home anytime soon. Sorry.”

“Why are you apologising? You’re the one who’d get soaked. Probably should have taken the car instead of the bike, shouldn’t you?”

Tin had laughed and she’d felt a bit more settled amidst the chaos inside of her.

“I just feel better being at home”, he’d admitted and Mim had wished she could shove him right now. Just a tiny bit.

“You don’t have to be at home to protect me each night, Tin. It’s okay, really. And Eve is here as well.”

“She is?”

“Yeah, she agreed to stay because of the storm.”

There was a pause and Mim had a feeling it meant something, but she had no idea what or why.

“I’m glad”, Tin had said softly as if he’d read any of Mim’s thoughts tonight, “Have a good time together.”

“I ... thank you. You, too. Are you alright?”

“I am”, and this time Tin had sounded calmer, more content, “Knowing you’re alright and not alone helps a lot.”

“Get a life, loser”, Mim grumbled and Tin chuckled.

“Sleep well.”

And with this, he’d left her a bit shaken, a bit off balance and excited for the night.

Because opposite to all the times before, it would now be only them, only the two of them.

~~~

“1 ... 2 ... 3 ... 4 there it is!”

Mim stared outside, careful not to tip the mug of hot chocolate while she leaned as close as possible towards the window to watch out for the next lightning while the thunder seemed to roll over them.

“That’s close”, she murmured, “1 kilometre? Two?”

“About 1.4”, Eve whispered back, equally transfixed on the darkness outside, frequently illuminated by the lightning.

“No wonder it’s so loud.”

Eve turned a little, a glint in her eyes: “Are you afraid?”

Mim tried to shove her with her foot, but it was securely lodged beneath Eve’s thighs and she wouldn’t budge.

“Shut up”, she said instead, even though she wasn’t even afraid of the dark or the lightning. It was simply for good measures.

And Eve stared outside again, the smile still on her lips. But Mim couldn’t look away from her.

After Mim had taken a shower as well, they’d decided to get some hot chocolate and move together to one of the big windows in Mim’s bedroom to sit there, huddled together and watch the spectacle.

“Why haven’t I done this before?”, Mim murmured and forced herself to look away, just in time to see the next lightning go down.

“1 ... 2 ... thr...”

The impact sounded more like an explosion, rather than thunder and both women froze instantly, staring outside wide-eyed, the noise still brimming through their minds.

“What?”

“That was close”, Mim felt a bit shaken, “Too close.”

“You think everything is alright?”

Mim looked outside into the darkness again but couldn’t make out anything.

“I can’t see any fires. Let’s hope it was only the thunder and not one of the trees.”

She felt Eve’s eyes on her and couldn’t suppress the shudder running through her.

“Shall we take a look?”

And then there was an offered hand and Mim took it, automatically, her body on autopilot as Eve dragged her around the house, searching for any possible damage, not letting go even once.

If she’d done, Mim might have died, right there on the spot, right then.

But instead, she followed her best friend around, her mind a mess as she could do nothing but feel the warmth of Eve’s hand, the determined grip of Eve’s fingers, so familiar but so foreign right now.

It was a world on their own this night, the darkness surrounding them, the storm keeping everyone away, keeping them inside. Nothing but the rain and wind and thunder were to be heard, not even their own heartbeats as they seemed to move like one joined entity from room to room.

“I think everything is alright”, Mim whispered after they’d finished the round, just to say something, expecting every moment that Eve might let her go.

But Eve didn’t. Instead, she squeezed her hand tighter.

“The thunder got quieter”, Eve whispered back, as if there was a reason for that.

And maybe there was with the fragile walls of this little bubble of theirs.

Mim nodded even though she hadn’t even paid attention to it. But it must be true since there hadn’t been another noise like the one before. So, she kept nodding and watching Eve and their hands.

“Shall we go to bed?”, Eve still whispered and Mim simply kept nodding.

Because really, what else was left to do?

~~~

Mim wasn’t used anymore to having someone else sleep beside her. At least not someone who wasn’t Tin. They didn’t do the sleepover often, only sometimes, mostly by accident and it never went anywhere, not even a bit.

But now she felt restless, knowing Eve was right beside her, right next to her and she swore she could feel the heat of the other’s body seeping through the blanket to her.

Eve hadn’t wanted to sleep anywhere else and to be fair, this was already the guest room they were occupying. So they’d crawled into the same bed, Mim’s heart up in her throat. She was waiting for sleep since then, but it didn’t come. Only almost with those short dips into unconsciousness, that never lasted long.

Frustrated, Mim turned and looked at her friend’s face, slightly illuminated by the moonlight.

She’d probably never seen Eve as relaxed, even though her hair was in disarray and her one cheek very much mashed against the pillow, leaving her mouth slightly open.

How could she even sleep like that?

Mim huffed, reminded that her own her was in a ponytail to keep it from getting in her face at night.

Carefully, she shuffled a bit closer to look more properly since the shadows dancing across Eve’s face were hiding too much and exactly the right amount.

Wasn’t her hair annoying like that? Right in her face,  probably tickling her nose? Right then, Eve started scrunching up said nose as if she wanted to move the strand of hair away somehow, even in her sleep.

Which was truly adorable, Mim thought with a smile and brushed the hair away gently, careful not to touch any skin so she wouldn’t wake Eve.

Although the temptation was there, the urge to let her thumb brush over Eve’s cheek, let it feel the soft skin of her lips and follow the line of her brows like an endless journey.

Mim wished she could do it. Wished she had permission to do so. To watch her own finger explore Eve’s face like a newfound land, let it wander even further and ...

Oh.

Mim froze, her hand still in mid-air.

Oh!

~~~

Eve was waking up slowly, knowing something was close. Something or someone.

It had been long since she’d fallen asleep so deep and fast, content to be right here, next to Mim.

Mim who’d looked at her as if she was a riddle the whole day, the entire evening. And Eve loved it. Loved it because it gave her hope because it made her even braver.

And there she was, when Eve opened her eyes, right in front of her, watching her with wide eyes as if she’d just solved the riddle.

Eve wasn’t fully awake yet, her brain still foggy and half asleep, but she liked what she saw, enjoyed that Mim let her in so close, looked at her like that. As if she was everything to her. It made Eve’s sleepy heart race and she smiled and reached out to hold on to Mim’s neck, to pull her close, to pull her closer.

And as she pressed a kiss to Mim’s temple, she felt a hand reflectively hold on to her waist and heard the release of a shaking breath.

“Is that ok?”, she murmured and hoped it came out the way it was intended.

And Mim, the fierce and strong Mim, looked at her, lost for a moment, before she nodded, not moving away but instead coming closer.

“That’s nice”, Eve sighed and pressed another kiss to Mim’s nose before cuddling right into the space beneath Mim’s chin, her fingers still loosely holding on to Mim’s neck.

A breath hitched and those fingers at her waist didn’t let go. And Eve smiled as she slipped right back into sleep.

~~~

No, Mim hadn’t slept much, if anything, by the time the sun came up. No, Mim also hadn’t let go, even for a second, even despite the cramp in her arm and the stiff neck. And no, Mim still had no idea what had happened and why it had happened.

Eve had woken up and she’d kissed her and she’d even asked her if she’d liked it and then she’d smiled and cuddled closer and Mim was as confused as she’d been when it had happened.

Confused and in pain, to be honest. How was Eve even able to keep this position? How had she even been able to fall asleep? Or had it all been a weird dream to her? Unreal and nothing of consequence?

The possibility made her afraid, even though she’d only realised what she wanted a few hours prior. She’d barely had enough time to process the revelation and think about how little her chances were when Eve had done ... this.

The hand at her neck, the lips against her skin and being so insanely close.

“Hey”, the sleep-driven and rather rough voice pulled Mim back from the depths of her worries and thoughts suddenly.

And still, she didn’t dare to move away, not even in surprise.

“Hey”, she replied hoarsely.

“You’re thinking too loud.”

The unwavering hold on her went seemed to loosen up slowly, Eve’s body giving her more freedom as she cuddled even closer.

“Is that a surprise?”, Mim really didn’t want to take any blame when she was going crazy for hours already, “Although you’ve clearly had a restful night.”

Eve opened one eye halfway to stare up at her and then smiled.

“I did, thank you.”

Did this mean she wasn’t as affected by all of this as Mim was? Did it mean she didn’t think more of it? Mim could feel her mind reeling again, a race she’d never be able to win.

But there was a hand, again, slowly wandering from her waist to her arm, her hand, interlacing their fingers the way Eve had done the night before.

“Eve, what?”, Mim asked, not knowing where to even look.

If this was a joke. If this was just gals being pals for Eve. Right when she was finally opening up her heart again, Mim wouldn’t know what to do, how to behave and how to keep herself whole.

Because she’d promised herself that she wouldn’t give anyone this power over herself again. Never.

“Don’t you like this?”, Eve frowned and opened her eyes more to look at Mim properly.

Mim’s thoughts still didn’t feel comprehensible in any way but she knew she had to be honest. Even if it was all still so new, but on the other hand it wasn’t and she needed to know where they stood and ...

“Depending on how you mean it.”

Now, Eve leaned back a bit, a serious look on her face, but her hand still holding Mim’s, her body close enough to make Mim feel the heat, the almost-touch.

“I would love to hold my girlfriend’s hand.”

She’d said it just like this. As if it was a simple matter, a simple fact.

“My hand?”

Eve’s whole face softened up at Mim’s words and she somehow pulled their joined hands up and pressed a kiss to Mim’s knuckles, lingered on the soft skin between.

“Definitely your hand.”

When Mim could only stare, trying to process that this was, indeed, happening, Eve grew visibly restless, a crooked smile sneaking on her face.

“If you want to, of course. But I thought ... after last night ... or did I read everything wrong?”

Mim felt her face heating up as the whole meaning of this conversation suddenly hit.

Oh!

“I mean yes, but no. But also yes”, she managed to say, wondering where her usual confidence for handling confessions had gone.

But maybe it was different since this was Eve and since they were lying together in one bed, trying to figure out what was going on together.

“What?”, Eve laughed even though Mim could feel the tremble in her hand, displaying her nervousness.

“I want to”, Mim confessed and dared a smile, “But I didn’t think you’d like me back. Not like that.”

Eve leaned towards her again, so close now that she seemed to be all Mim could perceive any longer, “I didn’t believe it, too. But I dare to hope now.”

There was something in Eve’s eyes. Confidence maybe. Confidence mixed with a rest of uncertainty and hope and love, so much love. And it was all combined with a smile, a grin, a tease, a dare, a promise.

Whatever it was, it made the restlessness in Mim’s chest settle.

This wasn’t a shady guy she’d just met. This was someone she trusted, someone she loved. Had loved for years.

Apparently, more than she had bargained for, but there was no mistaking her feelings. Not with this urge to pull Eve close, to pull her on top of herself. To kiss the smirk off her lips and get her hands in Eve’s hair, so beautiful and teasing.

This was Eve and she’d just confessed that she had feelings for Mim.

Holy shit, she realised again: Eve had feelings for her.

Mim still felt somewhat off-balance, somewhat beside herself, albeit slightly. And weirdly, at the same time, she also felt as if everything was finally in its place, at the right spot. As if she'd finally arrived where she'd always wanted to be, where she was supposed to be.

And with a surge of confidence, she cupped Eve’s face with her one, free hand.

“I’d like to kiss my girlfriend now”, she whispered with a smile and watched as giddy happiness took over Eve’s whole face and made her smile so wide, it shook Mim for a whole new reason.

“What are you waiting for, then?”, Eve teased and Mim finally, carefully, kissed the woman she’d fallen for. The one she loved. The one she trusted. The one she was longing for. The one right in her arms.

And as they deepened their kiss, huddled in a somewhat uncomfortable but perfect position, smiling right into the kiss, Mim felt a lightness she hadn’t experienced for a while, had missed and yearned for.

Who would have thought, she mused as they shuffled into a more comfortable position, her fingertips exploring the warm, soft skin underneath Eve’s shirt, that being with the one you love could feel so groundbreaking, so natural, so extraordinary?

“How am I supposed to kiss you when you’re smiling so wide?”, Eve teased her with a whisper before biting Mim’s ear gently, making her let out a surprised cry. Surprised but not unwelcome.

Mim locked her legs around Eve.

“Don’t stop”, she demanded and asked and prayed and hoped, “Don’t ever stop.”

From the way Eve looked at her, took her sight in as if it was the water she’d been thirsting for, she certainly didn’t plan to.

And Mim couldn’t wait for it. For them.

~~~

“How much longer do we have?”

Mim was the one asking but didn’t want to let go, her hands finally in Eve’s hair, feeling the soft strands and heavy weight as she ran her fingers through it. As she caressed it over and over again, addicted to the way it felt on her skin.

Their legs were entangled, their bodies a connected heap and Eve’s hair right there, for her to touch and entangle. And Eve was pressing lazy kisses against her collarbone every few minutes, humming to an unknown song, sending vibrations right through Mim’s heart.

“Not long enough”, she grumbled and Mim chuckled.

“It’s raining anyway. Are you sure you want to leave?”

With a sigh, Eve tried to bury herself even closer.

“I do but don’t. And I have to be there at 11.”

“So it’s more of a late breakfast?”

Another hum, paired with a shuffle and Mim wondered if her girlfriend had fallen asleep again already.

She wouldn’t complain, even if. Not in a million years.

And softly, she pressed a kiss to Eve’s head, putting in all the feelings that had been building inside her chest, all the emotions she hadn’t been able to explain or word yet.

No, she wouldn’t complain. Because they had all the time to figure this out.

~~~

There was something to be said about having Eve on tiptoes in front of her, leaning up to pull Mim into a kiss, one of her hands firmly at Mim’s neck, the other at Mim’s hip, to keep her balance. Maybe.

There was something to be said about having her girlfriend smiling into the kiss and knowing it was the second time she’d tried to leave already. But she’d turned back for “one more kiss”. Again.

“You’ll be late”, Mim murmured against Eve’s lips but didn’t let go.

“You could come with me”, Eve huffed before chasing Mim’s lips again, “I wouldn’t have to let go then.”

At this, Mim had to laugh and she broke the kiss, enjoying the dramatic pout on Mim’s face, despite her own heart racing so fast, it seemed to drown out everything else around them.

“Next week maybe”, and she brushed a strand of hair behind Eve’s ear, enjoying the nervous blush she caused, “Once I’ve processed it properly.”

“What? You still can’t believe it?”

Only with some effort was Mim able to keep Eve from tickling her, holding her hands prisoners, basically.

“As if you have realised it completely already.”

“Fair”, Eve smiled sheepishly and pressed a kiss to Mim’s cheek since there was no other movement possible with hands bound.

“And I need to tell Tin first”, Mim admitted, even though she had no desire to get so serious so soon.

But Eve’s smile deepened and her arms lost some of the tension, making Mim wonder if it was safe enough to let her go and hug her once more.

“I have a guess your feelings might not be the only ones that have changed”, she said, like a cryptic goddess and refused to elaborate.

“Talk to him first”, another kiss to Mim’s cheek, “I don’t want to be wrong on this one.”

“Fine, but you better tell me your theories later.”

And Eve promised with another kiss, leaning her whole body against Mim as if she never intended to leave but instead wanted to bury herself into Mim.

When she left though, after a while, when she was almost too late, it was with a giddy smile and a promise and laughing eyes.

Mim loved her even more for it.

It was okay, Mim realised. She trusted Eve. Trusted her to come back again. Back to her. Back to them.

And then they would figure out their feelings, their relationship together, making it right.

Mim wouldn’t have thought she’d be excited for this once more, after everything, but her heart was about to jump out of her chest at the prospect, at the simple thought of Eve back in her arms.

She sighed.

Before that, she would have to have a talk with Tin. Because he deserved as much.

And so, as happy as she was nervous, Mim waited.

But for once, it wasn’t for others to change her life. Instead, she was the one taking the next step, another new, exhilarating path.

And Mim couldn’t wait to make it happen.

To be continued ...

[bigfan-fanfic]

The Bat-dads 5 (Batdad!Reader x Batfamily

Requested by @yesthetrashbin

Thank you so much for the first ask on this blog! Hope you like!

So, while in public you and Bruce are very refined and cool.

Think galas, red carpets, matching suits

Think Bruce “getting drunk” and getting handsy with people of both genders before you swoop in as the long-suffering spouse and take your playboy husband home

But reality is very different.

You wanted to make Wayne Manor a safe environment, even more so when the kids came into your lives. It should be a place where the harsh judgment of the press is gone and the nightly strife of vigilante work is absent

So there is a dress code at Wayne Manor: whatever the heck is comfortable.

Alfred is the only one aloud to wear formal clothes inside when there isn’t a party.

Dick and Jason tend to wear exercise gear. Tim wears whatever he’s been wearing for the last few days because he forgets to change. Damian has taken to wearing his Hogwarts robes everywhere.

Bruce generally wears his old Gotham University hoodie and pants, but sometimes he’ll wear just a bathrobe (and I’ll leave it to you what’s going on under there...)

Bruce is very affectionate. He’s lost a lot of people in his time, so he wants to show you how much he loves you every time he sees you

Long lingering kisses before patrol every night.

Dick thinks its adorable. “D’awwww...”

Jason pretends to stick his finger down his throat, and later covers Damian’s eyes and yells “there are CHILDREN present!” 

The first time you do it front of Tim he tilts his head as if critiquing your form

It makes you a bit uncomfortable

But much later, he’ll come ask you for kissin’ tips

Damian is angry the first time (’cause he still wants Bruce and Talia back together), but he gets better, though it gives him the oogies to see his parents macking out

“TT, Father, yours and Papa’s sickening display is entirely unnecessary. Don’t you see him every day?”

Bruce grins. “Just showing your Papa I love him, Damian.”

Damian thinks for a moment, then moves forward and gives you an awkward Voldemort hug. Then he punches Tim.

“OW! What was that for?”

“I am showing how I feel, like Father. Grayson, you are my favorite. Todd, I tolerate you.”

You may have to have a talk with him...

Bruce is a lot less so in public, because there are haters everywhere, although Gotham is surprisingly progressive

You and Bruce do a lot together.

Mainly parties and galas, because there are so many of them.

But also charities

Wayne Enterprises executive meetings

Press junkets

Lots of other stuff.

When you two were younger, when Bruce was just starting out as Batman, the Honeymoon Phase was 24/7.

The press ate it up.

Ferris wheel dates where Bruce paid the operator to make the ride “stick” with you two at the top.

Trips to movie premiers where there would be very little movie watching

Private candlelit dinners in the gardens of Wayne Manor with food Bruce made himself

It’s terrible. And Bruce knows it. And he knows you know it. But he loves you for muddling through it. And he loves you more when he offers to have Alfred whip something up and you say you’d rather not give him any more trouble.

With all the demands on your time, you rarely get enough time anymore beyond sleeping together

Bruce is surprisingly not so into taking charge in the bedroom

Probably because he always has to be on all the time as Bruce Wayne, and then he has to be constantly alert as Batman

So he likes it when you take control of the situation - it shows how much he trusts you that he’s willing to let go.

You guys might get a date night once every two months. In the spring-summer months. The holiday season is non-stop parties and villains trying to cancel all gift-giving holidays or something. 

Your least favorite villain is Calendar Man because he always seems to find some obscure holiday to attack on that coincides with date night.

Even holidays that aren’t REALLY holidays, like National Think About Cats Day or whatever.

When Calendar Man broke out of Arkham to throw cats at people on the day you and Bruce went to the swankiest place in Gotham, the kind even the Wayne name can’t get much preferential treatment at.

Not his worst crime, but good luck getting another reservation!

Bruce’s favorite thing about you is how positive you are.

Relatively.

Because please, anybody is a ray of sunshine next to “I am the night” Batman over there.

One wonderful moment was when you insulted Ra’s al-Ghul to his face.

He had come to the manor to recruit Bruce again, and you were there.

“You know, I’ve never actually heard your name said by anyone other than Bruce. How do you say it? Is it RAYSH, like racial? Or RAHSH, like Rosh Hashanah? Or is it RAZ, like razzamatazz?”

Ra’s (however you say it) is stunned.

Bruce has never seen the assassin lost for words. Talia is there, fuming and angry, but also impressed at the lack of fear you are showing

Because to say something like that takes either great stupidity or some real big...personality traits.

Who knows? Maybe it’s both.

And sure, maybe Ra’s tried to kill you then, but afterwards? He includes your continued survival in all his offers to Bruce. Maybe even as a cultural advisor/PR Liason to the League.

You two are couples goals for Gotham.

But you couldn’t care less about anyone else. ‘Cause you two have eyes for each other only.

When Selina or Talia shows up, you don’t take the high road.

Especially not with Selina. Although sometimes you are friends.

and especially especially not with Talia, because she’s hurt your son Damian as well as the love of your life, Bruce. And that does not fly with you.

Talia *shows up at the Batcave*: [to Bruce] Hello, Beloved.

Bruce (uncomfortably): Talia.

Talia *looks down her nose at you*: Hello, Fool.

You *smiling coldly*: Hello, Worst Mother Ever. Oh, wait, no. Hello, Rapist.

Talia: *snarls*

Anyway, you love each other through thick and thin.

And that’s all that matters.

[violetsystems]

#personal

The highlight of my week was Shake Shack on my lunch break at work.  It was the first time I’ve had it and I keep calling in Steak and Shack mentally.  I pass by it every day in the morning for coffee in the West Loop.  It passed through my feed due to some flaky algorithms and I was hungry.  Thirsty too I guess but I didn’t get a shake.  My order came up and New Order’s “Power Corruption and Lies” came on the radio as I picked it up.  I took a picture of it on Instagram and ate fries at my desk.  I treat my social media like a journal or diary.  I don’t really pay much attention to other people’s social media at all.  I don’t know if it’s all that healthy when it’s out of context.  I’m a victim of people not understanding the context of what I post.  You can be stressed out or under duress and fill in the blanks on anything.  I’m a huge believer in privacy for somebody who writes so transparently on the internet.  I live in America and I’ve often been ashamed at what people pass off as freedom.  People don’t mind their own business.  People make it a business not to mind their own business.  I was reading an article about the whistleblower for Cambridge Analytica.  The company’s business model prior to changing their name was Psychological Warfare.  Steve Bannon was on the board or something.  It seems like the only money these days for bloated old white people is hate clicks.  People trying to create drama in a vacuum.  That vacuum being people’s privacy.  It’s insidious to think about but it’s a natural exploit of human nature.  We’re all afraid of something and can be socially engineered to respond to it.  For the record I’m not afraid at all.  And sometimes when things slip through the cracks of my quantum window I make decisions.  I go get a hamburger and fries on my lunch break.  I actually take a lunch for once.  I buy a pair of shoes and wear them for a week.  All this seems like a revolution to the bourgeoisie and passers by.  I’m just trying to feed myself.  Since I’ve quit the gym I probably exercise more.  I’ve gotten more efficient at the science behind it.  That’s athleticism I guess.  I quit the gym because people kept following me there and harassing me.  I quit taking certain streets these days often for the same reason.  It’s gotten impossible to avoid.  Sometimes the claustrophobia is pleasant.  I’ve seen a lot of Girls Who Code people on the streets lately since I went to the Google conference.  Always women of color banded together like the real superheroes they are.  Sometimes in pink hijabs.  There’s a lot of hidden symbolism in plain sight in Chicago these days.  There’s also a lot of abuses of power which come as no surprise.  The trick is knowing where you fit into all of it.  And assuming your place in anything is rude.  It happens to me all the time.  People stepping over boundaries and me having to reevaluate my feelings towards it.  That’s how you provoke real culture.  And also how fake culture ends up in the mulch.

My mom called while I was playing magic to tell me Tuesday was a good day to mow.  It takes a good hour and a half on public transportation to get out there.  The entire time I spend is in public getting there.  Public in America is a very strange and magical space to navigate.  I’m not exactly hard to spot from far away as low key as I try to play things.  People in the suburbs have probably seen me more than most the last year.  People in the city are too stuck up or self absorbed to care.  When they do it’s usually wrapped up in some scheme or plan where I’m a utility.  They spend years watching you and talking behind your back.  Then finally when you are worth something to them collectively they try to prod you into a box.  A magic money making box where everybody is happy, productive and useful.  Sometimes I’m just trying to get a hamburger with fries.  Nobody asks who gave me that idea and that’s nobody’s business.  I’ve blocked people on Instagram for following me around.  Like point blank had to do that Friday.  When I go to New York by myself it’s much the same thing it’s true.  I do take pictures and check into places.  And sometimes people find them interesting and appreciate my interest.  But there’s a very huge boundary there in the fact that I can only afford to travel there every two months for maybe three days.  I live here.  The public space in Chicago has always had this oppressive atmosphere to it.  It’s opening up these days.  Especially in terms of diversity and inclusivity.  But you’ve got to tell it to leave you alone almost constantly.  And you have to figure out a way to set up your own boundaries here regardless if it’s fair or not.  People are very nice in the Midwest.  There’s this culture of kindness that isn’t always very genuine.  It clashes with real Chicago sometimes.  The kind of Chicago that knows better.  Street wise Chicago still is very nice and kind.  New York has the New York minute.  Chicago moves far slower.  Somebody takes a moment of your time and they try to turn it into a lifetime.  People fall out of your life but still feel connected through your ghostly presence on social media.  And they think they know all about you.  Whether or not this is the price of fame or being famous doesn’t really matter.  Chicago is famous for the saying “you ain’t shit.”  It’s a hater town to it’s very core.  Sometimes that’s fun to punk.  I don’t work for a psychological warfare firm.  I work at an art school.  I’m not trying to be an Instagram star or a reality show contestant.  I’m trying to start a life for myself nobody wants me to have.  One where I am free to love who I want and others are free to do the same.  Free to grab a hamburger and make a joke about it without having to explain myself.  Free to fly to Shanghai by myself and do the same thing.  And for the most part I am.  It just requires the responsibility to keep it to myself.  No matter how public facing I become.

One of the people I used to be in a music crew with and helped out tremendously is in New York this weekend playing a show.  Two years ago I started going to New York with that safety net in tow.  I could book a show with friends and play my music.  These days nobody knows who I am or will give me the chance.  The chance was never there.  At least not in music.  Years later New York is inescapable for me at this point.  I don’t need a reason.  I don’t need a show.  I just need to go.  I don’t need support.  I don’t need a chaperone.  I don’t need permission.  And nobody has ever given me a break.  It’s always shadowy bullshit guiding you through the fog.  And if you can’t trust people to remember what you’ve done years later what’s the point.  If people really ask me point blank why I go to New York I’m ambiguous at best.  Yeah I have friends out there.  But it’s more than that.  I’ve grown to be a part of two cities.  A bridge to a lot things on a strange rhizome that nobody wants to acknowledge specifically.  But in the margins and fog is where every single bit of the magic happens.  And you have to dive straight into the center in such an eloquent way off the diving board.  I’ve knocked my head more than I care to admit.  But then again I’ve been writing about it here week after week to people who listen.  Sometimes it’s a deeper love letter.  It’s always a deeper love letter this I cannot lie about.  But that’s between me and another person.  It’s true I’ve waded through a maelstrom of bullshit.  It’s nothing new to me at this point.  When I catch people on their borderline machiavellian tendencies I have to act like I’m not surprised.  When I see people’s schemes and plans in motion like a cartoon villain I just walk away.  Wander back to a safe, predictable space where I can rest.  People are chasing after money constantly.  People belittle my success and potential often.  I’m not rich enough.  I’ve let too much of my life pass me by.  Buried by other people’s fear of me moving on without their approval.  Yet people need me every waking second of the day like I’m a superhero.  Sometimes it’s rewarding.  Particularly when it comes to providing a safe space for people to think without being judged or manipulated.  That’s freedom to me in America.  How we can type out on the internet what we feel and flick off police helicopters for being so nosy.  How I can wear some shoes banned in China every day to work this week and nobody really knows the difference.  How I really enjoyed that hamburger.  Nobody needs to know why specifically.  Other than I’m a growing healthy boy who is also very thirsty for the record.  Maybe I’ll get a milk shake next time and drink it up.  Maybe I’ll be hunted by the paparazzi afterwards.  They don’t want to fuck with these healthy bones.  Maybe I’m saving these strong bones and teeth for the haters.  Maybe I don’t care much about them at all.  I’m all smiles on the inside.  Nobody needs to know why.  Crinkle cut fries do help on occasion.  <3 Tim

[studentchow]

Brewdog is the Justin Bieber of the Brewery World.

To understand Brewdog is to have a base understanding of the nature of the Craft Ale and Microbrewery scene and the modern history of brewing the UK as a whole. The advancement of tech and how beer is sold in pubs can be described thusly:

Here’s a drinking game to play- Drink everytime you read “Brewer(y/ies)”. I certainly did when I wrote each one, and it made writing this so much easier and tougher at the same time:

Originally Pubs, Taverns and Inns sold Ale, brewed inhouse. These “Brewpubs” are the basis for modern Taphouses and unfortunately there are only a handful nationwide today. These died out as more commerical and larger breweries were built. These Pubs would normally be tied to one Brewery still but that would be done offsite. Some of the Breweries and Brands would then be bought up, or integrated as a larger mass for modern consumption. It’s why Martson’s, Wychwood and Ringwood all come under the same company.

Fast forward to the 1970s and 80s. Homebrewing had been licensed since 1963 and was a popular pasttime. Chain Pubs like Wetherspoons were introduced that had no tied loyalties to any anyone and could stock whatever they wanted (despite nowadays being merged into their own groups which now do their own discount deals with Breweries), imported beers were more popular as Michael Jackson’s (not the singer) “World Guide to Beer” became a best seller. The main dominating forces in the market were reffered to as “The Big Six” (not to be confused with the Big Hero 6 or the Sinister Six).

Hehe. Classic.

These Six were Scottish and Newcastle, Courage Imperial (which have merged now to become Scottish Courage), Whitbread, Bass Charrington (both having been bought and shared between IntBev and Coors), Watney’s and Allied Breweries (now part of the Carlsberg Group- the wheel spins on it would seem). Their domination of the market and need to mass churn out Beers lead to the rise of more carbonated barrels which in turn resulted in the Consumer Advocacy Group known as the Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA) with the intent to distinguish between “Real” Cask Ale, and Ale kept by the Big Six in the now mainstream carbonated, filtered, and pasteurised barrels/ Largers. The downside however to this and the founding of CAMRA came the image that brewing was an dated profession; akin to other manufacturing professions held by the working class in a world rapidly moving towards a service sector based economy. Ales and CAMRA being the equivalent to the Socks and Sandals. There’s no denial that UK Real Ale had an image problem. Nowhere near as bad as “Lager Louts” but the scene needed a Rennaisance.

Enter the US and it’s innovations to image and marketing. Which brings us to the import of the late 90s all the way through to the 2010s. Suddenly; it was cool to market these underdog breweries, producing quality drink products the brewers cared about just as much as the old timers but with hip, new labels and imagery. In short; Craft and Real Ales were modernised. Some would say Gentrified. Even Microbreweries could produce relatively large quantities enough to begin to sell to a larger audience. Breweries like Brooklyn, Thornbridge, and Brewdog emerged, with the latter being founded in 2007 in Scotland by Martin Dickie and James Watt (phew, we’ve caught up now).

Brewdog sailed in on a wave of Counter-Culture, portraying themselves as the Underdog Heroes of Craft, here to stop all those Lager touting Big Six style wannabes; a company that gave a shit about what it made. It’s not a new tactic, Musicians had been running that show for decades hence why Brewdog’s first proper product is called Punk IPA- a rebellion of taste sensation, a youthful attempt at an IPA (a product that, if I’m being fair, I enjoy; even though it’s basically the same as Jaipur- right down to the fact that Martin Dickie was the one that developed Jaipur at Thronbridge before moving on to set up Brewdog). Brewdog have also made a fair few good marketing decisions. They’ve released recipe books on their beer so it’s now classed as open source, they employ over 800 passionate people across their production plants their own globe wide bars, and which has resulted in the company being one of the fastest growing in the food and drink industry. They also opened up a Crowdfunding/Shareholders initiative to increase consumption in exchage for investment based rewards.

Brewdog’s image has slipped however over ther past few months and a history of shady behaviour surrounding legal battles, and Equity for Punks, make the point that wherever a business trades on Counter Culture, so to, will there be businesses willing to double dip the sincerity it garners to get away with some unreasonably shady behaviour.

So recently Brewdog has come under fire for two lawsuits aimed at Bars/ Pubs that use vaguely similar names. “Draft Punk” (if Dickie and Wyatt thought they were the targets because of an [at best] tennous link between an establishment that sells beer, AND a brand of beer, they seriously need to get Spotify Accounts).

Pictured: Not Martin Dickie or James Wyatt.

The other was “Lone Wolf” (which Brewdog claimed infringed on their trademark for their Vodka before backing down).

The obvious critique of these moves is that coming from a company that trades on the anti-establishment vibes picked up by it’s consumers, this comes off as duplicitious and hypocritical, but if you go further back, into the history of the company, these decisions crop up all too often.

Equity for Punks, The Company’s Crowdfunding scheme has plenty of criticism. Originally; when I first started writing this article the idea was to write a highly detailed account of each time Equity for Punks messed up, but as I dug deeper and peeled back more layers, the scheme and business practices unveiled  a laundry list of poor decisions. These include:

Reinvestment of profits rther than paying dividends to its investors (who have an annual ability to sell their shares, but as Brewdog haven’t floated on the Stock Market yet there have been more than enough peices written by media outlets and blogs considering whether investors will make their money back).

Producing an exclusive Tesco Finest Double IPA while looking to crowd funding (a move I like to call the Corporate/ Crowdfund Doubledown- which can be found on Page 4 of the Brewer’s Karma Sutra).

Diluting Shares that have an input/ are worth value by sharing them at such tiny percentages, their value drops massively.

Starting a CrowdCube fundraiser for 4 Year Short Term Bonds when they realised that Equity for Punks 2015 wouldn’t meet it’s £25 million goal.

James’ response to this article in which he calls critics “haters” (if at any point as a businessman you have to stop and ask “Am I sounding like Donald Trump Tweet”- you know you’ve gone too far), which; while not bad for consumers- does illustrate a point I’ll be making later.

Crowdfunded on Indiegogo for a $250 a night hotel (because: Punk Rock).

And finally (for now): Wyatt and Dickie’s inconsistent over inflation of the company’s value. In 2015, judging on who you ask, the owner’s valued the business between £283 million and £306 million (extending all the way to a £1 biillion flotation by 2020). This was however overturned when the Company sold 22% to Private Equity House “TSG Consumer Partners” which also owns Pabst, which valued the company at £1 billion. While this does overturn previous actions and give investors some value back to their shares by inflating their worth to match the value of the company, there still isn’t an opportunity for those investors to sell, and given the company’s roots this move once again flies in the face of the company’s image as an anti-establishment. Wyatt and Dickie claim the company was started to share a love of great beer with everyone, but failures as an indie and now this shift has exposed the company for the cynical cash grab it is.

The original title for this article was “Brewdog is the Sex Pistols of the Brewery World” because that evoked similar ideas: Manufactured Anti-Establishment except their origins are reversed. The Sex Pistols started manufactured but have some good tracks and they’re still largely looked at positively several decades down the line; where as Brewdog started in a garage and haven’t been round long enough to tell yet. Then it was Tim Westwood for the same reason except Westwood’s image is way more self deprecating, and how Brewdog get away with screwing it’s fans over is not funny. In the slightest. Soooo, I can only believe the Company’s closest modern analogy is Justin Bieber because they share all the same symptoms: Manufactured Counter Culture, Overzealous and exploitable fans, Cynical Cash Grabbing by owners so grossly thin skinned when it comes to criticism with overly inflated opinions of their products; pulling edgy PR stunts/ nightmares in a desperate scramble for relevance that is so ultimately overdone that it’s boring (no really). I enjoyed Brewdog’s products but now the image has turned me off, and as some one trying to build a brand on Crowdfunding, the more this attitude is allowed to prevail, the more it’ll poison the well for the rest of us. And the worst part is that Brewdog isn’t the first company to want their industry’s share of the Big Six’s Revenue whilst cashing in its fans loyalty and goodwill. Chances are it won’t be the last either so as consumers we need to be better at telling Businessman ike Wyatt and Dickie no when they try to pull it, whether thats by writing about it once they start to take a bit of criticism, or going out and refusing to buy when the time comes to it. In short:

You can support the maker of this pin by buying it on Etsy. You can also support the person who came up with the line on Paypal.