#and you pay a flat tuition and can take as many classes as you want. it really slaps

[wickedhawtwexler]

i’m starting another violin class today mwahhh <3

[hyperfixatedimagines]

Home for the Holidays Ch.1

Summary: Your family didn't take your coming out well....and instead of spending the holiday alone you join your roommate for Christmas dinner. While Aemond wishes you set your sights on his sister Helaena, your tastes skew much older. 

A/N: This is a modern!au milf Alicent x milf lover f!reader. It was supposed to be finished last December lol. It got really long so I broke it into two chapters. It will be smutty, so read with caution if that’s not your thing! Not really smut in part one though. 

A/N pt. 2: In this story two of Alicent’s cousins are her older brothers and Baela is not Helaena’s cousin. Not canon compliant.

You knew the holidays were going to be rough this year but had not anticipated just how hard seeing pictures of your family in St. Barts without you would be. 

They had not taken your coming out well. 

Sure they had promised to keep paying the tuition to your very expensive university until you graduated but that did little to soothe the hurt that their disapproval caused. Your family came from old money, some of the oldest of old in the country, and with that came old ways of thinking. They didn't care that you were gay, plenty of people in your extended family were some form of fruit, but they all stayed in the closet- at least publicly. That was what your family wanted for you as well. Anything to not tarnish their image. 

But you couldn't live that way any longer. You wanted to be free. 

To your surprise, only your estranged cousin Elia had accepted and even celebrated your coming out of the closet. 

Thankfully you had Aemond. The two of you had met in freshman history class. He argued with the professor over every historical inconsistency in his lectures and it drove the professor mad. It made you laugh though. Aemond also came from old money, so the two of you bonded over the pressures that came from families that expected you to be perfect. Sophomore year the two of you moved into an apartment off campus, and your friendship only grew from there. 

Aemond was your best friend, and you could not have asked for a better one. Aemond invited you to spend the holiday with his family. He didn’t love spending time with his family as they could be quite a lot but he always went for his mother’s sake. 

You figured it beat spending Christmas alone in your flat. 

So you got dressed in your very best and sat in the passenger seat of Aemond’s Porsche the whole drive to Oldtown. 

- 

Aemond popped another piece of gum into his mouth. “This will be a great opportunity for you and Helaena to bond,” he said as he chewed. 

You rolled your eyes. “Not this again.” 

Aemond smiled mischievously. “Come on (y/n). You can’t tell me you didn’t feel a connection when she came to visit on my birthday.” 

“I can, and I am. She’s not a lesbian Aemond,” you replied.

Aemond was convinced that his sister Helaena was a lesbian. His evidence was that she never had a boyfriend, attended an all women's university, majored in Women’s studies, and only brought home girl best friends for the holidays. 

“She talked to you that night, which cannot be said for many other people. Helaena is very selective with who she talks to. You even made her laugh (y/n)! I saw the sparks,” Aemond argued. 

You sighed and shook your head. “Even if your sister was by some miracle into women, which I want to firmly state for the record that she is not, she’s simply not my type.” 

The light turned red and Aemond’s car pulled to a smooth stop at the intersection. He turned to you. 

“You don’t have a type. I’ve seen you bring all types of women home (y/n).” 

You smirked. “Ever notice they weren’t at all our age.” 

Aemond furrowed his brows. “So your type is older women?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, like your mom for example.” 

Aemond frowned. “Dude not that again!” 

You laughed. “It’s not my fault your mom is a total milf.” 

The light turned green. Aemond focused on the road once more. His face contorted in disgust. 

“Ugh, yeah you and my mother are not something I’d like to picture.” 

You let out another laugh. “Well I certainly have.” 

This time Aemond let out a small chuckle. “Do you have the hots for my mother (y/n)? Is that why you said yes to joining us for Christmas?” 

You shrugged. “Maybe I do, and maybe it is.” 

Aemond chuckled again. “Well if you can make my white, Anglo-saxon, catholic mother do anything untoward this weekend I’ll spend the first two months of the new year cleaning the bathroom every weekend.”

Another red light. The car came to a stop.

You turned to Aemond and put your hand out. 

“Deal.” 

Aemond turned to you and shook his head. “I was joking.” 

“I am not," you replied with a cheeky smile.

“Fine, deal,” Aemond said and shook your hand. 

The light turned green. Aemond sped off once more. 

You sat back in your seat thinking of Aemond’s mother, Alicent. You had only met her via Facetime when she called to check in on Aemond. 

She was a certified smokeshow. 

Alicent was beautiful and always held herself with poise. She was dressed impeccably in every photo of her online you could find when you first cyber-stalked her. 

She had lost her husband, Aemond’s father, three years ago. 

Aemond always skirted around the topic of his father. His father, from what you knew, had never really cared for Aemond and his siblings. 

Viserys Targaryen was in his second term as the state's governor when he passed away. The Targaryens were political legends in your state. Many of their family members had been mayors, governors, state senators, and they had even managed to have an ancestor in the oval office. 

Aemond’s father had always favored his only daughter from his first marriage, Rhaenyra. He had poised her to be the city’s mayor but his death led to a falling out within Aemond’s family. According to Aemond, they had never gotten along with Rhaenyra and her family but they had been cordial while Viserys lived. 

When he died, Rhaenyra (who according to Aemond saw his mother as nothing but a gold digging whore) fought Alicent on every asset Viserys owned and vowed to leave Alicent penniless. 

Thankfully Aemond’s mother had her family by her side. The Hightowers of Oldtown were an even older political force to be reckoned with. Their wealth dated back to the very founding of the nation. 

Aemond’s grandfather, Otto Hightower, had squandered his own inheritance as a young man. It was rumored his family had cut him off and left him to his own devices after he gambled his money away. So Aemond’s mother had grown up having to make a lot of things happen on her own as they didn’t have their family’s backing for most of her life. 

It wasn’t until Alicent married Viserys that the Hightowers welcomed Otto, Alicent, and her brothers back into the family fold. 

So when Viserys died Alicent had the army of Hightower family lawyers on her side. Alicent managed to win several of Viserys’ homes and the money the prenup she had signed promised her. 

Aemond never really spoke of his father, and when he did it was without warmth or love. So you often wondered if this was how all his family felt or if it was just him. You figured you would soon find out.

- 

Aemond pulled up in front of the massive estate. 

You got out of the car and marveled at the impressive family home. It wasn’t bigger than the one your family owned but it did look older and felt more imposing. 

The estate was decorated from top to bottom in Christmas decor. It was done tastefully, the lights and decor didn’t look tacky, but it certainly conveyed a love for the holiday not many others shared by the look of the estates Aemond had passed by on the drive up. 

Aemond popped the truck of the car open and took out his overnight bag. Then he took a deep breath and walked towards you. 

“Say the word and we can still go back to the flat,” he joked. 

You raised your brows and gave him a sideways look. “And do what? Eat Chinese take out and get drunk?” 

Aemond smiled. “That sounds class to me.” 

You laughed and shook your head. 

“Aemond," said a voice that sounded as sweet as honey and as light as the morning sun. 

You and Aemond turned your heads towards the estate. 

Aemond’s mother stood at the door. She smiled brightly and waved. 

Gods she’s even more beautiful in person, you thought. 

Aemond put his hand on your shoulder. “Let’s get this over with then.” 

You and Aemond walked up to the door. 

Aemond’s mother turned to you and gave you a hug. 

“It’s lovely to finally see you in person (y/n)," Alicent said as she politely embraced you. 

You were surprised but you quickly recovered and returned the embrace. You noted how warm she felt. 

“It’s a pleasure Mrs. Targaryen.” 

Alicent pulled away and waved her hand dismissively. “Oh none of that. Call me Alicent,” she said with a smile. 

You nodded. “If you insist, Alicent.” 

She let out a polite laugh then turned her attention to Aemond. She wrapped her arms around her son. “I’ve missed you so much my little dragon,” she cooed. 

Aemond blushed as he pulled away from his mother. 

“Mom,” he chided. 

Alicent laughed. “What? I can’t call you my little dragon anymore?” 

You laughed and turned to Aemond. “Little dragon?” 

Alicent turned to you. “He used to love running around pretending he was a dragon when he was a boy.” 

You reached out and pinched Aemond’s now rosy cheek. “How cute, little dragon.” 

Aemond swatted your hand away. “That only happened when I was seven and it’s because the dragon is on our family crest.” 

“If it makes you feel better my nickname used to be baby cabbage in our mother tongue," you revealed, hoping to lessen Aemond's embarrassment. 

Alicent laughed. “Why baby cabbage?” 

You blushed under her gaze. “I was a very chubby baby.” 

“How darling,” Alicent quipped. 

Butterflies fluttered in your chest at the compliment. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Aemond staring at you. 

He cleared his throat and pulled his mother’s gaze away from you. “Let’s go inside, it’s bitterly cold out.” 

Alicent nodded. “Of course come on in. Aegon is already up in his room. Helaena and her friend should be getting in any minute now.” 

Alicent stepped aside and Aemond walked inside. 

You followed after him and felt the butterflies in your chest multiply when you caught Alicent looking you over from head to toe with a small smile on her face.

-

Aemond and Aegon decided to smoke a joint before dinner. 

You weren’t against it but didn’t care to partake so you wandered downstairs and figured you’d ask Alicent if she needed any help with dinner. 

You knocked on the wall of the kitchen entryway. 

Alicent was stirring something in the saucepan but looked up when she heard you knock. She smiled. 

Butterflies filled your chest once more. 

“Hi there,” she said. 

You shoved your hands in the pockets of your jeans. Your palms had already started to sweat and you hadn't even spoken yet. 

“Hi...Uh I was wondering if you needed help with anything?” 

Alicent waved you off. “You’re a guest (y/n). I could never ask you to do anything,” Alicent protested. 

You stepped closer and leaned against the counter next to the stove. “Then it’s a great thing I’m asking you. Really, I want to help out,” you insisted. 

Alicent let out a small laugh. “Okay, you can stir this gravy while I check on the roast.” 

You stepped up to the stove and took over the stirring. 

Alicent went to the oven that was inlaid on the side of the stove, and took a look at the roast.   

“Did you decorate or did you hire someone to decorate your home?” 

Alicent stuck a meat thermometer in the roast and turned her head towards you. “Depends, do you think it’s too much?” 

You smiled. “Of course not. It’s beautifully done.” 

Alicent brightened at the compliment. “Then it was all me,” she beamed. 

“Do you always go all out on the holidays?” 

Alicent placed the roast back on its rack and closed the oven door. “Just Christmas. It’s my favorite holiday because I finally have my family all under one roof again." 

She took her oven mitts off. 

You continued to stir the gravy. “Well I hope it’s okay that you have a stray joining you at the table this year." 

Alicent approached the stove once more.“It’s Christmas, the more the merrier.” 

Then Alicent reached out for the spoon. You went to hand it off. 

But then your hand met hers. 

You didn’t move, and neither did Alicent. 

She met your gaze. 

You were too scared to even breathe. It felt as though if you moved even an inch the spell that kept her eyes on you would break. 

But it broke anyway. 

Alicent cleared her throat and looked away. 

You let go of the spoon. 

Alicent grabbed the spoon and resumed stirring. With her free hand she lowered the heat of the flame. “Besides, I’ll have two stays. Helaena is bringing a friend from school," she said, as though your brief moment of intense something had never happened. 

You took a step back and leaned on the counter. “Right, you mentioned that before. Do you know much about her?” 

Alicent continued to stir. She did not meet your gaze. “Not really. Helaena doesn’t share much about her college life with me. All I know is that her name is Baela, and that they’re spending Christmas day with her family.” 

You raised your eyebrows slightly. Was Aemond right about his sister being into women? 

Alicent noticed. “Why’d you make that face?” 

“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just something stupid Aemond said," your face suddenly felt warmer. 

Now it was Alicent who raised her eyebrows in intrigue. “What is it?” 

You bit the inside of your cheek, unsure if Aemond would mind you sharing his thoughts with his mother. 

Alicent noted your apprehension. “I won’t tell Aemond you mentioned anything.” 

You looked into Alicent’s eyes. They were a deep and rich brown. They were comforting. You realized that with eyes like that you would tell her anything she wanted. But her gaze was too hot so you swallowed hard and looked away from her when you told her what Aemond had said. 

“He thinks Helaena is gay, and is obsessed with getting her and I together. I’m ninety percent sure that’s the sole reason he invited me over today.” 

Alicent stopped stirring and stared at you.“Gay? Why does he think Helaena is gay?” 

You shrugged. 

Alicent placed a hand on her hip. "I think you do know." 

You dared look up. Alicent's attention was fully focused on you. You felt your stomach in your throat but you spoke anyway.

“According to Aemond, Helaena never expresses interest in men or in dating a man, only talks about women she admires, attends a historically women’s college and majors in women’s studies, and finally that she only ever brings girls home on the holidays.” 

Alicent chuckled and went back to stirring the gravy. “Oh gods. You know I’ve never known why kids today still hang onto outdated stereotypes about sexuality. I was the very same at Helaena’s age, she’ll grow out of it when she meets her future husband. I know I did.” 

You pushed yourself onto the counter and sat down, intrigued at the revelation of Alicent's past. 

“You were a women’s studies major at an all girl college?” 

Alicent tilted her head to the side.“Sort of. I majored in English literature at Vassar, and I only ever brought my girl friends home for the holidays. Until I met my late husband of course.” 

Aemond had never told you that his mother had gone to an all women’s university or that she had a BA in English Lit. It piqued your interest. You needed to know more. 

“How did you meet him?” 

Alicent returned her gaze to the stove and brought the heat of the burner even lower. “My father introduced us. He was Viserys’ chief of staff in his first term.” 

You knew there had been an age difference between them but had not imagined it was that big. 

“Interesting...”

Alicent didn’t reply but she glanced over at you. 

You hopped off the counter, awkward with the sudden silence. “What else can I help with?” 

Alicent smiled softly. “You really don’t have to (y/n).” 

You shook your head. “I insist. Have you set the table? If not I would be more than happy to do so.” 

Alicent turned the heat off and moved the sauce pot to a different burner. She looked up at you. “I laid everything out but I haven’t set it up.” 

You clapped your hands together. “Consider it done.” 

Then you raised your hand to your forehead and gave Alicent a mock salute. 

Alicent laughed.

- 

You set the table as you had always been taught to. Spoons and knives on the right and forks on the left. 

Then, just as you were almost done setting the table you realized the salad forks were missing. 

You double checked the pile where Alicent had left everything, hoping they were under a napkin and you had simply missed them. But no dice. They weren’t there. 

So you walked back to the kitchen. 

Alicent was now working on the salad she planned to serve. She looked up when you entered the kitchen, a smile on her face. It seemed like she always had a smile ready for you. 

You smiled back, it was instinct around her. “Hey uhm- I’m almost done setting the table but I realized the salad forks are missing. I can’t find them.” 

Alicent furrowed her brow. “Really? I could have sworn I set them out with the rest.” 

She grabbed a nearby paper towel and wiped her hands of any residue. 

Then she exited the kitchen and walked towards her china hutch. 

You watched her from the kitchen entryway. 

While you waited for Alicent to find the forks you looked about the room. When you looked up you realized someone had hung mistletoe over the entryway. 

You smiled. 

Alicent walked to you, forks in hand. She stopped at the entryway. “I’m so sorry I forgot to set them out with the rest.” 

She handed the forks over to you. 

You reached out to take them and for a brief minute your hands met hers, once again. 

Your gaze met hers. “Don’t apologize. I honestly don’t know how you’re doing all the cooking and decorating all on your own. Aemond and I were barely able to put a tree up.” 

Alicent smiled. She didn’t pull away this time. “You’re too sweet (y/n).” 

You returned her smile. Your cheeks were starting to hurt but you wouldn't dare not smile back. “I do have to ask you something," you said, emboldened by the continued contact with Alicent. 

Alicent raised a brow. “Ask me something?” 

You nodded slightly then continued. “I don��t think I’ve ever seen mistletoe hung in the entryway of a kitchen before.” 

Alicent’s brow furrowed. “Mistletoe?” 

You looked up. Alicent followed your gaze. 

Her eyes widened a bit when she noticed the mistletoe. “Oh I- That Aegon,” she cursed. 

You looked back down at her and laughed. 

Alicent met your gaze once more, blush filled her cheeks. 

Then she pulled her hands away from yours. 

You took the forks and held them against you. “It's quite a funny placement isn't it?" 

Alicent walked past you, back to her salad preparations. 

“Oh yeah? How so,” Alicent replied, busying herself with her salad to avoid looking at you.

 “It reminds me of the old saying, love the meal and kiss the chef." 

Alicent stopped chopping the greens and looked over at you. She let out a small laugh. “Is that a saying? I don't think I've heard it before." 

You shrugged. “I swear I've heard it before, somewhere...Well if it's not it should be." 

Alicent shook her head, the smile still on her face. “Let’s see if you still want to kiss the chef after you’ve had my cooking.” 

Butterflies filled your chest. You stood up a little straighter. “Deal.” 

Alicent turned to you once more, her eyebrows raised. 

You twirled around and walked back to the dining room. You could feel Alicent’s eyes on you as you walked away.

- 

You finished setting the table. 

Then you stepped back and admired your work. 

You hoped Alicent would like it. So you turned to head back to the kitchen but stopped in the hall when you heard the doorbell ring. 

You turned to open it but Aemond beat you to it. 

“Sister,” Aemond said and reached out to hug a familiar blonde.

Alicent walked out of the kitchen and went to the door. 

Helaena let go of Aemond and turned to her mother. Alicent wrapped Helaena in another hug. 

Behind her, a silver haired girl stood awkwardly in the doorway. 

Helaena pulled away from her mom and stepped back to the silver haired girl’s side. She slid her hand in the girl’s. “Mom, Aemond, this is my best friend Baela.” 

Alicent stepped forward and stuck her hand out. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Baela.” 

Baela shook Alicent’s hand. “Thank you for having me over Mrs. Targaryen. Helaena has told me so much about you all.” 

Alicent laughed lightheartedly. “All good things I hope.” 

You took note that she didn’t ask Baela to call her Alicent. 

Aemond gave Baela a polite nod. “Welcome Baela.” 

Baela smiled at him. “Thank you Aemond.” 

Then Aemond noticed you standing in the hall and he waved you over. You approached them with a smile. 

Aemond went to your side and put his arm around your shoulders. “Helaena look who’s joining us tonight.” 

Helaena smiled when she turned to face you. “(y/n), it’s nice to see you again.” She stepped forward and gave you a hug. 

Aemond dropped his arm and stepped away from the both of you. 

You returned Helaena’s hug. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Aemond giving you a knowing smirk. 

Helaena pulled away and held you at arm’s length. “I’m so happy you’re joining us for dinner.” 

“As am I,” you replied. 

Helaena gave your arms a squeeze before she stepped back to Baela’s side. 

You stuck your hand out to Baela. “Nice to meet you. I’m Aemond’s friend (y/n).” 

Baela shook your hand warmly. “Nice to meet you as well.” 

Then Baela stepped back and Helaena looped her arm around Baela’s. 

“We’ll be upstairs in my room. Let us know when dinner is ready,” Helaena said before she and Baela started up the stairs. 

“Okay,” Alicent said as she watched them leave. Then she turned to you and Aemond. 

“Do you need any more help,” you asked Alicent. 

Alicent shook her head. “You’ve been a tremendous help. Please go have fun.” 

Aemond put his arm around your shoulders once more. “Let’s go play some video games on Aegon’s new system.” 

Aemond led you to the stairs. 

You craned your head back to look at Alicent. “If you need any more help just let me know! I’d be more than happy to.”

 Alicent gave you another smile. “I will.” 

Then she walked back into the kitchen and you followed Aemond up the stairs. 

- 

After about an hour of playing mario party with Aemond and Aegon (who you didn’t much care for because he could be crass but he had never been improper towards you so you didn’t mind him much) you heard the doorbell ring. 

“That will be grandfather,” Aemond said with a sigh. 

Aegon slumped down in his gaming chair on the ground. “I don’t want to go down.” 

Aemond clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Sooner we go say hello the sooner we can say goodbye.” 

Aegon groaned. 

You turned to Aemond. “Oh come on, your grandpa can’t be that bad.” 

Aegon looked at you with an incredulous expression. “You have no idea." 

Then you all stood and made your way to the entrance. 

You trailed behind the boys. 

You saw Alicent at the door with an older man who you figured was her father, and three younger men who greeted Alicent with smiles and hugs. You figured they were her brothers. 

Aemond had told you he had three uncles on his mother’s side. He hadn’t mentioned much about them other than they were all still bachelors, which to you spoke volumes about them as two looked older than Alicent and only one looked younger than her. 

The older man turned to Aegon and Aemond, who were now at the door.

 “Boys,“ the man cheered before greeting each one with a hug and heavy pat on the back. 

Aemond returned the hug while Aegon went limp in his grandfather’s arms. Then their uncles greeted each one. 

You noticed that Alicent had straightened her posture and kept a more neutral expression. She greeted her father and sibling politely, with none of the warmth of earlier greetings. 

There was a lot that you didn’t know about Alicent and her family but you figured it was not all rainbows and sunshine by the change in her demeanor.

“You got here just in time father. Dinner is ready and served,” Alicent proclaimed. 

Her father nodded. “Very good timing Alicent.” 

Then Alicent turned to Aemond. “Would you tell the girls it’s dinner time?” 

Aemond nodded. Then he sped back up the stairs. He reached you and started to tell you but you told him you had heard. 

So he left you and went to tell Helaena and Baela. 

You made your way down the staircase and to the dining room. 

Alicent’s father and brothers seated themselves. Her father sat at the head of the table and insisted Aegon sit on the other end. Aegon did not protest. 

Alicent came out of the kitchen with the salad she prepared in her arms. 

You went to her side. “Do you need any help bringing out the food?” 

Alicent gave you a half smile. “It’s alright (y/n). I’ve set it all on the table. You just sit down and enjoy.“ 

You nodded and followed Alicent into the dining room. You sat down on the empty side of the table. You introduced yourself to Alicent’s family as you sat down. They all gave you various levels of appropriate greetings. 

Thankfully Aemond, Helaena and Baela came in and sat down next to you. Aemond sat to your right, beside his grandfather, and Helaena to your left. Baela sat on her left, with Aegon on Baela’s left. Opposite you sat Alicent. To her left sat her brother Gwayne (as he had introduced himself to you), beside his father. To Alicent’s right sat her brothers Lyonel and Martyn. 

You took in the sight of the absolute feast that was before you. “This all looks delicious, Alicent,” you said without thinking. 

Alicent gave you a small smile, blush tinting her cheeks once again. “Thank you (y/n). You’re too kind.” 

Her father, Otto as you now knew him, let out an indifferent huff. “The roast looks a bit overdone. How long did you leave it in for,” he remarked. 

Alicent’s smile fell from her face. She looked down at her hands. “I followed mother’s recipe to the letter father.” 

Otto let out another huff. “We’ll see about that.” 

Alicent frowned. 

Your focus was pulled away from them when Aemond gently ribbed you with his elbow. 

“You’ve got the perfect seat to talk to Helaena,” he whispered. 

You turned your head slightly to get a better look at Helaena. She was too busy chatting with Baela to even notice you. 

You turned back to Aemond. “It’s not happening Aemond.” 

Aemond frowned then turned his attention to his grandfather.

Otto rose from his seat and tapped his wine glass with a fork, calling everyone’s attention. 

“It warms my heart to see the family gathered for another Christmas. A man’s true wealth can be measured by the strength of his family...and the strength of his business. I am pleased to announce that your uncle Ormund has set up a donor fund for Aegon’s first mayoral campaign.”

Alicent’s brothers clapped and cheered for Aegon. Alicent clapped softly and gave Aegon a sympathetic look. 

Aegon’s face turned a sickly pale color. He didn’t meet his grandfather’s gaze. 

You had a feeling this was the first Aegon was hearing of his mayoral candidacy. 

Otto raised his glass. “To Aegon, first stop the mayor of Oldtown, last stop the president’s office.” 

“Huzzah,” Martyn cheered. 

You raised your glass alongside the rest purely out of propriety. Everyone could tell by the look on Aegon’s face this was the last thing he wanted. 

You turned to look at Alicent who had guilt written all over her face. Your heart softened. 

Otto set his glass down after taking a drink. Then he grabbed the carving knife and fork and got to work on the roast. 

- 

The meal was going well. Until of course Alicent’s family set their attention towards you. 

Lyonel, Alicent’s eldest brother, turned towards you. “So (y/n), what’s your family do?” 

Martyn nodded. “Yeah your name sounds familiar.” 

You took a quick sip of your wine before you replied. “My family are mainly philanthropists now but our family used to own the majority of the railways in the country,” you confessed. 

“That’s right, (y/l/n) rail,” Otto chimed in. 

“Yes sir, but my father is focused on tech philanthropy now.” Below the table your palms started to sweat. Talking with Otto Hightower felt a lot like speaking with your grandfather as a child. They both had very imposing auras. 

“A pity,” Martyn responded as he shoveled another piece of roast into his mouth.

Alicent whipped her head towards her brother. “Martyn,” Alicent chided. 

Martyn shrugged. “What? Her family used to be major players in the nation.” 

Lyonel nodded, agreeing with his brother. But he didn’t stop there. “So why aren’t you spending Christmas with them?” 

You dug your fingers into the palms of your hands. You felt like something was stabbing the inside of your throat. 

Thankfully,  Alicent and Aemond came to your aid. “Lyonel,” Alicent reprimanded. 

Then she turned to you. “You don’t have to answer that (y/n). Please forgive my brothers.” 

Aemond nodded. “Yeah (y/n) you don’t have to engage my troublesome uncles.” 

Lyonel and Martyn rolled their eyes. 

Otto was silent but his piercing gaze remained on you. 

You swallowed hard before you put on a polite smile. You looked at Aemond then at Alicent. “It’s alright,” you assured them. 

Then you turned to Alicent’s brothers. 

“I came out to my family a few months ago and it's safe to say they don’t approve of my new ‘lifestyle’ as they call it.” 

Lyonel’s face went red. Martyn looked away. 

Internally, you smiled at the sight of them embarrassed. 

Alicent’s voice pulled you back to the present. “They’ll come around eventually (y/n). The love a parent has for their child is immeasurable.” 

You smiled at her. “I really hope you’re right.” 

Gwayne, who had not said much all dinner, cleared his throat. All eyes turned to him. 

He turned to Aemond. “So Aemond, how’s your fencing coming along?” 

And just like that the pressure was off you and onto Aemond. 

- 

Many minutes later the meal came to a close. 

The men whisked Aegon and Aemond outside to play ball, leaving only the women inside. 

You, Alicent, Helaena, and Baela cleaned up the table. 

Alicent and Baela made their way to the kitchen with the leftover food while you and Helaena stacked up a pile of dirty dishes. 

Helaena looked over at you. “That was very brave of you,” she said. 

You set the plate you had picked up down. “What was brave?” 

Helaena stopped clearing the table. She turned to face you. “Telling everyone your family iced you out after you came out. Coming out to your family is incredibly brave, and you’re even braver for sharing that with practical strangers.” 

You smiled and felt your face warm. You weren’t attracted to Helaena but she had an otherworldly presence that made any attention she gave you feel special. “Thank you Helaena.” 

She reached out and squeezed your shoulder. “If you ever need to talk or need support, I’m here for you.” 

You put your hand on top of hers. “Thank you.” 

Then the two of you finished clearing the table. 

- 

You finished bringing the last of the dirty dishes into the kitchen. 

Helaena trailed in after you and set her stack on the counter. “Mother, Baela and I will be in my room.” 

Alicent nodded, up to her elbows in leftover food that she was trying to shove into various containers. 

Baela and Helaena left the kitchen. 

You turned to Alicent. “Do you need some help with that?” 

Alicent struggled to secure the lid on the container as she had over packed it with food. Alicent shook her head. “I got it.” 

You continued to watch her struggle. “I don’t think you do.” 

Alicent stopped trying and stepped aside. “Okay then tough guy, you give it a go.” 

You smiled and walked up to the counter. You pressed the lid down on all sides until you heard it click. It was secure. 

Alicent clicked her tongue. "Lucky try." 

You turned to her. “Always happy to help.” 

Alicent took the container full of food and stacked it with the others. “You don’t have to hang around here (y/n). You can go see Aemond or Helaena.” 

You furrowed your brows. “Helaena?” 

Alicent turned to the fridge and started the game of stacking the leftovers. “Yes, I saw the two of you talking while you cleared the table. Perhaps Aemond was right after all. I’ve never seen Helaena take to someone new so quickly.” 

“You were watching us," you asked, butterflies forming at the thought of Alicent spying on you. 

“Why do you say it as if I was spying on you? I saw you from the window in the kitchen is all." She said with a lazy smile on her face. 

“Right....We were just talking. Besides,Aemond is out playing sports with your brothers and father and I am not a sports fan. And I would hate to interrupt Helaena and Baela's alone time,” you joked. 

Alicent chuckled. She turned to grab the rest of the leftovers from the counter. 

You stepped forward and grabbed them. You handed them to her, one by one. “Besides, I like being in your company,” you confessed. 

Alicent stopped arranging the leftovers and looked back at you. “Really?” 

You nodded. 

Alicent smiled shyly and returned her attention to the refrigerator. “I wish my own children felt the same. All but Aemond dodge my calls.” 

You shrugged. “If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m always free.” 

Alicent turned to you and you handed her the final container of leftovers. “Thank you (y/n).” 

Her fingers lingered over yours. Alicent looked down at them. She stared at them for a moment before biting her lip. 

 “What’s your verdict?” 

You furrowed your brows. “I’m sorry?” 

Alicent looked up, and took the container from you. “About my food. Was it good enough to kiss the chef?” 

Your face went hot. “Oh...uhm I-” 

Alicent placed the container in the fridge then closed it. She turned back to you. 

You were still too stunned to say anything. 

So her smile fell and she shook her head. “Forget it, it was stupid.” 

“No it’s not stupid I-," you stammered then cleared your throat. “I was just caught off guard is all.” 

Alicent stared at you, not saying anything. 

So you continued. 

“The roast was cooked perfectly.” 

Her smile returned. “Thank you (y/n).” 

You stepped closer to her. “So I do believe I will kiss the chef after all.” 

Alicent swallowed hard, not taking her gaze off you. “Oh,” she whispered. 

You stood in front of her, and looked down at her lips. “May I?” 

The last thing you wanted was for Alicent to feel uncomfortable or coerced. So you waited for her reply before doing anything else. 

Alicent gave you an almost imperceptible nod. 

You leaned in, at first determined to kiss her lips, but as you neared her skin you thought better of it. 

She was just committing to the bit, you told yourself, she didn't actually want you to kiss her.

So you placed a gentle kiss on Alicent’s cheek, inches away from her lips but still in a chaste enough location. 

You noticed a small frown spread across Alicent’s lips as you pulled away. 

But it was quickly wiped away. 

Alicent blushed furiously. She looked away from you. 

You also felt your face warm. 

You heard footsteps approach the kitchen. So you stepped away from Alicent and leaned on the counter. 

Alicent must have also heard them as she busied herself with wiping down the stove top with a nearby rag. 

Aemond appeared moments later. He looked between you and his mother, slightly suspicious, but then he shook his head and turned to you. “Aegon wants another couple rounds of Deadly Fighter 5. You up for it?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.” 

Aemond turned and headed towards the hall. 

You started after him but turned at the entryway of the kitchen. “It was a lovely meal, thank you.” 

Alicent nodded, her cheeks still rosy. “Of course.” 

Then you hurried after Aemond. 

A part of you wished you had been brave enough to kiss Alicent on the lips.

You mashed various button combinations as your chosen fighter threw punches at Aemond’s chosen character on the tv screen. 

He was currently beating you  in the second round. 

Behind you, Aegon took a hit from his bong and blew it out in perfect circles. 

“So let me get this right, you want to fuck our mom,” Aegon repeated. 

You grimaced. “Why must you say it like that?” 

Aemond’s character delivered the killing blow to you. You lost. 

Aemond turned to you. “Aegon’s crudeness aside, he’s not wrong. I’ve seen the way you linger in the kitchen alone with her.” 

You felt your face start to warm. You cleared your throat and tried your best to appear nonchalant. 

“I didn’t want her to think I was a rude guest. No one else was helping her,” you argued. 

Aegon took another hit before he spoke again. “You know, I always thought Mom was a lesbian,” he mused. 

Aemond turned to him. “You did?” 

Aegon nodded. “She never really liked Dad, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen or heard her call a man sexy.” 

Aemond furrowed his brows. “Because Dad was a dick. Mother is a devout Catholic she would never call another man sexy. I don’t even think that word is in her vocabulary.” 

You turned to Aemond. “Your arguments for why Heleana is gay are just as flimsy.” 

Aegon turned to Aemond. “You think Helaena is gay?” 

Aemond shrugged. “What else could she be? She’s definitely not into men.” 

“She’s not into anything. She’s a freak like that,” Aegon said and laughed at his own joke. 

Aemond threw a pillow at Aegon’s head. 

It bumped Aegon’s head and knocked the bong out of his hands. 

“Hey,” Aegon whined. 

You and Aemond laughed. 

- 

An hour later, the time had arrived for you to leave. 

You descended the stairs with Aegon and Aemond in tow. 

At the bottom of the stairs Alicent was already saying goodbye to her father and brothers. She finished giving each a hug goodbye. 

Then she noticed Aemond and Aegon. Alicent asked the boys to say goodbye to their grandfather and uncles. 

Aegon and Aemond did as their mother asked and gave their family a hug goodbye. 

Helaena and Baela came down the stairs and Helaena said goodbye to her grandfather and uncles. 

Once they were gone, Helaena informed her mother it was time for her and Baela to leave. 

Alicent gave Helaena a big hug. “I’ll miss you, my bug, she said as she gave Helaena a kiss on the forehead. 

Then Alicent said goodbye to Baela, another handshake. 

Baela and Helaena made their way out the door. 

You were the last guest there. 

Alicent and the boys looked towards you. 

You dialed your cousin Elia once more. Once again you got the automated message the call could not be connected.

“I’m having some trouble with my cell. Could I use your landline?” You asked. 

Aemond furrowed his brows. He turned to his mom. “Do we even have one?” 

Alicent nodded. “Of course we do.” Then she turned to you. “It’s this way.” 

She led you to a small alcove with the landline and a seat next to it at the end of the hall. 

You thanked her and dialed Elia’s number once more. 

This time you got through. It rang three times before she answered. 

“Hello?” 

“Elia, it’s (y/n). I’m calling from my friend’s landline. I couldn’t get through on my cell for some reason.” 

You pressed the phone closer to your ear. There was a lot of background noise and you could not hear Elia very well. 

“I tried to call you. I can’t make it out to pick you up. There’s been a freak snowstorm in Sunspear. They closed all the roads and aren’t letting anyone through. I’m so sorry kiddo,” Elia lamented. 

Your heart sank. 

One for the snow storm that was probably wreaking havoc in Sunspear. It was a town that almost never got anything besides sun. 

And secondly because now you had no way to get back to your flat. 

You swallowed hard before answering. “Stay safe Elia. Please call me with updates, okay?” 

“You got it kiddo. Is there anyone else who can take you  home?” 

“I’ll figure it out, Elia. Don’t worry about that,” you said. 

The line started to fade in and out. Elia wished you a safe ride home and a merry Christmas. 

You did the same then hung up. 

Then you walked back to the entryway where Alicent, Aegon and Aemond stood. 

You shoved your hands in your pockets. “Soo...a freak snowstorm hit Sunspear and Elia can’t pick me up.” 

Alicent frowned. “Oh no, is she alright?” 

You nodded. “Yeah she’s doing okay. Uhm, so I’ll try to call my family’s driver to see if he can make it out. It might take him an hour or two to drive from High Garden but I’m sure he won’t mind.” 

Alicent shook her head and approached you. “Nonsense, you’ll stay the night with us and you can leave with Aemond tomorrow evening.” 

She reached for your hands and held them. “Got it?” 

You flushed. “I couldn’t possibly bother you all like that.“ 

“You are no bother (y/n). Now come on, let me show you to the guest bedroom.” 

Then Alicent pulled you along the staircase and to the guest bedroom. 

Aemond trailed behind the two of you. 

-

Alicent led you to a beautiful room with ample space and a fireplace. She asked Aemond to start a fire as the room could get quite cold at night. 

Aemond did so without protest and soon a fire roared in the hearth. 

Then Alicent asked Aemond to fetch you a pair of his pajamas. 

Again, Aemond did so without protest. 

While Aemond was gone you turned to Alicent. “Are you sure this isn’t an imposition? I can still call the family driver.” 

Alicent waved you off. “You’re staying and that’s final. You got it?” 

You nodded. Her dominant tone ignited a flame of your own. “Thank you,” was all you could say without giving your desire away. 

Aemond returned with a fresh pair of pajamas in hand. He gave them to you. 

You thanked him. 

Alicent clapped her hands together. “Wonderful, we will leave you to get settled. Breakfast is tomorrow at 9am.” 

You nodded. “Got it.” 

Alicent reached out and gave your shoulder a light squeeze. “Sleep well,” she said. 

You smiled. “You as well.” 

Then Alicent turned and left the room. 

Aemond stepped forward. “We’ll try again with Helaena at New Years.” 

You groaned. “Please, no more of that.” 

Aemond chuckled. “We’ll see. Good night (y/n).” 

“Good night Aemond,” you replied as you shook your head. 

Aemond walked out and shut the door behind him. 

Finally, you were alone. 

You changed into the pajamas Aemond gave you and settled into the plush king sized bed. You closed your eyes and hoped sleep would come. You decided to think about Alicent, in hopes you dreamt of her. 

You smiled. 

- 

Unfortunately, sleep did not come for you. You tossed and you turned. 

All you could think of was how much fun your family was probably having without you in St. Barts. 

Then you did the worst possible thing. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand and pulled up your mother’s facebook account. 

She had already posted many photos of the family in St. Barts. They were smiling from ear to ear, tanned, and it seemed like no one cared you were not in any of the pictures. 

Your mom made no mention of your absence in the text of the post and none of the comments (mostly your mom’s pta and book club friends) asked about your whereabouts. 

You clicked through the many photos. It wasn’t until you clicked on the last photo that you lost it. 

It was a picture of your whole family (minus you), with a caption that read, “Family time is the best time. So thankful to God for allowing the whole family to join us for this Christmas getaway.” 

Tears welled in your eyes. They had completely erased you out of the family. You threw your phone across the room. 

The tears fell from your eyes and stained your cheeks. You could not stop the sobbing that followed. 

It was stupid. You were stupid. 

You should not have been crying for a family that clearly did not want you. You wiped your tears and tried to calm yourself. 

You struggled to do so but after a few minutes you were finally able to breathe normally again. 

You got out of bed and crossed the room to where you had thrown your phone. Then you picked it up. It was a little busted but nothing cracked. 

So you pocketed it and decided to go downstairs for a glass of water. 

- 

As you started towards the kitchen you noticed lights were on in the study down the opposite hall. 

Aemond had briefly mentioned the study on the initial tour he had given you. 

You wondered who else was up this late as it was well past 2am. 

So you stepped closer. As you neared the study you started to hear small cries and sobs. 

You got closer and tried to peer inside. 

Thankfully the door was ajar enough that you saw who was inside. 

It was Alicent. 

The first thing you noticed was how low cut her nightgown was. 

It was a beautiful sage green, and it hugged her body pretty tightly. Then your gaze traveled back to the low cut top of the nightgown. You knew it was wrong to stare but you wanted to take in just how stunning Alicent was. 

You looked closer and noticed her nipples peeked through the fabric of the nightgown. You swallowed hard. 

“Fuck,” you whispered. 

Then Alicent sniffled and dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. 

You shook your head. She was clearly upset and there you were ogling her. 

You stepped back and tried to leave. 

But it was too late. 

Alicent stood from her seat. “Who’s there?” She called out. 

You didn’t reply. You were far enough away that you hoped by staying quiet she would drop it and you could leave. 

You didn’t want to intrude on a clearly private moment. 

“Come forward,” Alicent demanded. 

You silently cursed yourself. You had no choice but to enter the study.

[transforming]

Life Update + Commissions!

Hey y'all! So here's a life update because right now, it's fucking hell on earth:

I'm going through major financial instability in my life, and as a college student, it's really hitting hard. Parents are out of a job, and my college just implemented a salary earnings cap for student jobs, which honestly I think is stupid and cruel to low-income students like me. On top of that, where I live, students can't work part time jobs outside of university, which would make it even more (and already) extremely difficult for me to cover my living expenses, let alone tuition fees.

After talking to some of my friends in this community about what I could do to keep myself afloat (and try to keep paying for my studies), and after getting some advice on how to proceed, I have decided to open up writing commissions.

To start, here is how it's gonna work with me:

Firstly, send me a message. You could do it over here on Tumblr, that's fine, but I'd much prefer it if you could message me on Discord, since I'm more reachable there. This makes things a lot easier for us to talk through your ideas and delve deeper into them, really flesh them out, and figure things out before I start writing.

Do NOT send me commission requests through asks.

Second, make sure to properly read through my rules below. Pricing details are set out below (rule 4), so make sure to keep that in mind when you're sending a request and when we're in discussion.

The number of commissions I will take on at at time will depend on a number of factors:

balancing my writing with college assignments & priorities

my level of interest

my writing mood / mental health

I'll make sure to provide updates on when I'm open to them or not.

Okay, now that those are out of the way, here are the very important rules that need to be taken in consideration.

The Transforming Commission Rules:

1. I reserve the right to refuse writing commissions.

Beside the above-mentioned reasons for the number of commissions I'm willing to take; or regardless of the reason; or for no given reason, no means no. Flat out.

I may not like the idea. Maybe I'm busy with classes, life or other commissions. Or perhaps my mental health's taken a downwards spin and/or I'm just not in the mood to write at the moment.

Make no mistake, if you pester me and ask if I've reconsidered your idea, I will simply just block you, no questions asked. If you want to politely ask again if my classes/time/mood were the issue for my saying no, I'd be more than happy to talk things out.

Also, please keep in mind that besides writing stories and my college classes, I have a life too. If you message me about a commission and I don't respond immediately, I'm either just busy or asleep.

I'll make sure to reply to those that inquire, it might just take me a sec.

2. Be as creative as possible, but also use your common sense.

As a creative writing student, I'm gonna be hard on this: one-sentence commission requests that just say "Make me into a twink!" or "Turn me into a frat bro!" will more than likely get refused. That said, try to make your request a little more compelling for me.

Come up with a plot summary, throw some more tf's in there, maybe add a delicious plot twist that would subvert a part of your idea, . I can only write so many of one type of tf story - they're fun, but don't make me bored sick of writing any more of them.

Also, be conscientious and realistic about the length you want. I'm no literary god with unlimited time, and I definitely can't fit a heavily descriptive tf AND a good plot in just 1,000 words.

If you're feeling insane super generous, or more supportive to help me out, and want to commission longer pieces (more than 3,000 words), we can talk more about it when you make the request.

3. I have limits. Push them and our deal's off.

Some of these are without question:

Underage characters / tf's (you will immediately get blocked if you make such a request).

Feet

Violence / pain / rape / non-consensual acts

Homophobic tf's (refer to my repost of @idesofrevolution's post - they've explained it better than I ever could)

Chastity

Unrealistic sizes

Animal tf's

Celebrity tf's (more details below)

I'm primarily a male tf writer, so gender tf is fine, but a heavily female focused story is a nope from me.

Don't even think to ask, I simply will not write them.

As much as I used to include them in my previous stories (especially with TF College), I won't generally do celebrity tf's anymore (i.e. stuff like "Turn me into Henry Cavill!") There may be a lot of very sexy celebrities around, and as hot as it may be to become them, I've had my fair share of writing those stories to the point where I'm done with them. Writing up original characters are more my thing these days - I'm a creative writing major, after all.

There is, of course, some flexibility with this, so if you have an idea but aren't completely sure, you can always ask me. If the idea is compelling enough -- and the guy hot enough -- maybe I'll make an exception. That's much better than getting rejected.

4. Payment & Delivery.

See, as much as I'm struggling right now, I'm not inconsiderate either - I know I'm not the only writer going through shit. I also know people aren't gonna dish out money to completely cover my life and instantly get me out of this hellish rut.

That said, I charge $0.04/word (for my British friends, £0.03/word). That's $40 (£30) per 1,000 words, or $20 (£15) for 500 words.

Payment is via PayPal. In full, up front. I will not begin writing until I've been paid.

When it comes to format of delivery, I will send you a pdf of the final story, provided you give me an email to send the pdf to (unless you' message me on Discord, for which I can just send the pdf to you directly).

5. Use of Images & Posting on Public.

The final say on any images included in these commissions are up to you. You're completely welcome to bring your own images to for me to write around, but if you don't have any, I'm happy to try and find some I feel fit the particular story if you'd like me to.

Then again, I can't make any promises. If I can't find image(s) that fit, or you don't like the ones I provide, I won't climb every mountain or cross every stream to find something. These are writing commissions in the end, so keep that in mind.

I'll also give you the final word on posting these commissions here on Tumblr. If you specifically don't want me to post yours, please say so during the process. If you say nothing, I may end up posting some of them after they've been delivered.

If you're okay for me to post the commission, but would like to remain anonymous (as in not get tagged on the post), make sure to let me know that too. This is an easy one to forget, so I'll be reaching out to you on posting after I've delivered it.

- Drew the Transformer

P.S. Don't forget, you can also tip me over on ko-fi, if you can't or don't want to commission! Seriously, any support during this very difficult time is always welcome, but I'll also understand if you can't.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

cardigan

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x reader

warnings: violence

a/n: this is a limited three part series based on three of my favourite songs from taylor swift’s 2020 life saving albums; cardigan, willow and invisible string. this one is cardigan, hope you enjoy xx

WILLOW

She clutched onto her worn out brown leather bag as she stepped inside the her father’s precinct. There wasn’t much that looked different from when she was a little girl, the tables still stood on the same messy layout which made no sense, the officers still didn’t look up whenever someone came in and the whole room smelled like stale coffee and burnt bread. The only difference was that the once endless room now felt small, nauseating, confining, a place where she didn’t want to be. 

      - Y/N. - her father’s voice rang through the small room, making her look up to where he was standing. Captain William, or dad if she was lucky enough to call him as such, was an intimidating presence even after all these years yet after her mother’s death it was him who was left of her family. - Come in. 

Her shoes felt heavy as she stepped inside his office, two more officers standing inside as she walked with her father. He closed the door, nodding his head which was a tell tale for everyone to sit down. She sat at the end of the dark green couch, away from the other two officers who were looking her up and down as if she were a prey.

       - I told you she would be perfect. Inconspicuous, he wouldn’t even think she’s undercover.

       - She’s not the type of woman Barnes go for.

       - She doesn’t need to be the type of woman he goes for, she needs to be the one who works in his bar and listens to their plans. 

Her father had told her about James Barnes. They had been trying to get him in for minor offences yet nothing seemed to pan out. The force knew they could never apprehend him for the crimes he knew he had committed but if they could get him in for something small: weapon charge, drug charge, something. For that to happen they needed someone to be in their circle and unluckily for them, Barnes and his men knew everyone who worked in the force but they didn’t know her. In return for her working in his bar, the force would pay her tuition fees as well as any books she needed. 

“It won’t be hard” was what her father had told her but as they dropped her at the bar she couldn’t help but freeze at the door. They were expecting her, she had gotten the job yet she couldn’t find herself walking inside. In any other situation she would’ve rushed past it, it wasn’t the place she would like to be in. Her hand grasped the bar of the door, pushing it open. The nightclub looked vastly desert with squeaky clean floors and bright lighting which showed the dark aesthetic of every single owned Barnes club in town. She didn’t know the man but she knew his style, dark, sleek, leather, sensual even, enough to make people feel sexual whenever they walked into his club. Yet, in broad daylight it was merely an abandoned establishment with one a table with a few hangover men still nursing a bottle of beer each, waiting for 7 PM for the club to come back to life. 

She stood out like a sore thumb, dressed in brown tones. A loose gingham black dress over a brown turtle neck covered and low black Mary Janes. Her eyes roamed the room, looking for someone to speak to but someone found her first. A tall man, probably pushing fifty, toothpick hanging from his lips and dirty rag on his left hand. She felt short, cowering under the gaze of the man.

     - You're the new girl, or what? - he questioned, thick Brooklyn accent yet Y/N didn’t dare reply, instead nodding at him. - Do you have a name?

     - Y/N.

     - Y/N, that’s nice. I’m Bobby, I’m the bar supervisor. You wanna talk to anyone? You talk only to me and you’ll do well.

She nodded her head quickly, almost like a bobble head figure, following him behind to bar. Now Y/N knew about bars or at least what they did in them, she just wasn’t expecting to see the huge amount of spirits, wines, and beers behind her. She was almost sure if someone robbed the club, they’d be better off with the booze than the money in the cash register.  The man, Bobby, ran through the basics, showing here with the cleaning products were, where some more complicated cocktail mixtures were written, how the washing machine worked and how crucial it was to constantly collect glasses from the bar and put them in there. She held a small reporter notepad, pen scribbling down messy wiggles which she wouldn’t be able to understand later on but it was still worth it. She could memorise it, she was a university student after all hence her memory for cocktails shouldn’t be hard. Everything was so polished, meticulously placed, almost too organised for a bar; the bottles placed onto glass shelves which light from under, placed almost the same measure apart in a sea of expensive beverages. 

     - Don’t serve any drinks to people who haven’t presented a payment form. If the boss comes in, serve him whiskey on the rocks. Glenlivet, no other brands. 

     - I’ve never seen the boss.

     - You’ll know. 

She was left there watching as more staff came in, the sun going down at the same time. “Just breathe, Y/N” she remembered her father’s words, she could do it, she could do it. How hard could it possible be to be a bartender? Just breathe, Y/N. She can do it, she can help his father, she can do this and then no longer have to worry about how many hours she would have to do at that little mean shop which had taken more of her than she gave them. She could be a regular university student, she just needed to breathe.

The purple, blue lights started to light the sunlight coloured bar as people started to queue up outside for a chance to get inside one of the most famous bars in town. She could faintly remember hearing her friends talking about how exclusive it was but as she looked out the window and at the queue she could finally understand it. As the doors opened and people started flocking in, suddenly she was serving drinks left and write, vodka and other shoots drenching her dress and apron as she messily tried to serve everyone at the bar screaming at her to hurry up. She kept running around like a crazy person, dragging bottles and bottles and pouring drinks which kept overfilling and dropping onto the floor. People kept yelling at her “hey sugar, how long does it take you to bring me some vodka?” but one man who was sitting still, gaze glued onto her while a cigarette hanged from the middle of his lips. She cowered under his gaze returning to hand a tray of jello shots to some girls. 

She continued to work until the last person was out of the bar but the man remained calmly leaned against the bar, the flame of his cigarette dying down. She tried to avoid him, pretending to clean the spot over and over again but the man merely scoffed, rubbing the butt of the cigarette against the ash tray.

      - You’re terrible. - he spoke out, voice raspy. - Who hired you?

      - That’s nothing to do with you. - Y/N turned around to place back the bottles onto the shelves.

      - Are you the owner?

      - No. - she placed the bottles on the shelf, hands shaking. 

      - Then it is something to do with me. - the air seemed to be punched out of her lungs, as her grip tightened around the neck of the bottle she was holding. She refused to turn around and look at him, understanding what it implied. Instead she just looked at herself in the glass wall. Just breathe, Y/N. - Can I get a ...

      - Glenlivet. - she rose herself on her tippy toes, interrupting him mid sentence. Grabbing from ice from under the bar, she added it to the glass, topping it with the expensive whiskey before placing it under a black square napkin. She continued to wipe down the counter until Bobby came back from the storage unit with more alcohol. 

     - You can go now, Y/N. I’ll see you at 7. - Bobby dismissed her and almost like thunder, she bolted off, not even stopping and allowing him to question why their boss was sitting at the bar.

Clutching her bag against her chest she started walking up to campus. She had done it, or at least managed to do something yet get no information her father wanted. That is unless her father wanted to know James Barnes’ drink of choice which she was pretty sure he didn’t want to know. Reaching her flat, she turned the key around, opening the door to see her friend Wanda waiting in the couch. 

    - You’re alive. - she mocked, turning the TV on. - Once again, tell me why you said yes to working in a mob bar ...

    - It’s not a mob bar, Wanda.

    - It is a bar owned by a mob boss who has been blamed on several murders. It is a mob bar. 

    - I’m just a bartender, nothing is gonna happen.

    - Can you tell me again why you’re doing this? Your father is the reason why you were raised by John Hughes’ movies. 

    - Okay, Wanda, you made your point. - Y/N took her jacket off, hanging it onto one of the hooks in the door.

    - I’m buying you pepper spray.

    - Pepper spray is illegal, Wan. 

    - So is the bar you’re working.

    - Okay. I’ll be careful, don’t worry. I’ll go to sleep now.

Wanda continued to ramble about her working where she was but there was really nothing she could do other than continue. All she had to do was breathe and listen and the department would pay for her tuition for the rest of her degree. Small price to pay for a much bigger price. 

As another day started, the routine started once again with her awaking up and running into class with Wanda complained about her brother followed by spending the rest of her free time until her shift began. Walking back to the bar she was telling herself once more that she would be just fine and that Wanda slipping a knife inside her bag was only her overreacting. Stepping inside the same building, Bobby was setting some shoot glasses on the counter.

    - Y/N. - he acknowledged her. - Glad to see you’re still here.

    - Wouldn’t be anywhere else. - she placed her bag and jacket under the bar and tied her apron around her waist. - Busy day?

    - Fridays are the busiest. All the university kids. Let me know if you need a hand.

    - I’m sure I’ll be okay.

Once again, wrong. She was not okay and as everyone found themselves flocking to the bar she was already running around like a crazy person, holding two bottles on each hand as people. The lights were blinding, shining on her as she served and slide more drinks onto the bar counter and to the waitresses who’d give her snide remarks whenever she took too long. Her hands were numb from the ice already yet her face was warm from moving side to side. At least, Mr. Barnes wasn’t around and that was already something she could be thankful for. She knew she had to eventually speak to him if she wanted to ever hear anything or maybe she wouldn’t have; she was good at being invisible, maybe she could just overhear something without having to ever speak with him.

   - Hey, sugar, where’s my drink? - a sluggish voice came from the bar and Y/N ignored it. Bobby told her, if anyone sounds or looks drunk to cut them off that “Mr. Barnes doesn’t need drunk people being roudy in his bar”. She continued to serve the group of girls celebrating passing an exam until the man moved over to them. - Hey, I asked where is my drink?

   - Sorry, you’re cut off. - she shrugged, grabbing some glass onto a plastic bucket so Bobby could put them in the washing machine.

   - What the fuck? C’mon give me my drink.

   - No. - Y/N just ignored it, turning around to put the bottles back onto the shelves.

   - Well then be useful and show me your tits. - the man scoffed as if it was the best joke in the world. Y/N turned around, speechless at what he had said before grabbing an half empty drink from the bar and throwing it at him which surprised the man just as much. - You bitch!

   - What’s the problem here? - fuck. Of course he had to show up. Mr. Barnes made his way towards them, holding that same powerful yet frightening stance as the strobing lights painted his face. His eyes were on her, waiting for her to say something but Y/N was mostly frozen. That was it, she was about to get shot, or worse, lose a finger or a leg or an arm. Oh god, how could she take exams without an arm? 

   - Your bartender isn’t serving me. - he pointed at her as if he were a 5 year old. 

   - Really? - Barnes stood slightly behind him and all she could see in a glimpse second was his metal arm, reflecting the strobing lights, come up to the nape of the man’s neck before he slammed his face against the glass topping of the bar counter. Y/N was startled by this, jumping back against the wall of drinks. - Get the fuck out of my bar. 

The man ran off, bloody nose, like a scared wounded animal leaving Y/N only to stare at him. Her mind rushed miles an hour, wondering if he had done that to someone what he would do to her. She should’ve taken the pepper spray from Wanda. 

   - Get back to work. - he left her with that, turning around and getting lost in the sea of people dancing. 

   - Hey ... - Bobby touched her arm, waking her from her own mind. She looked at her hands; good she still had both hands. - Go take a break, wash the glasses, I’ll do the bartending for a while.

   - I’m fine, Bobby.

   - I know. I just want you to go do something else. - Y/N nodded, not wanting to disobey anyone yet she couldn’t help but be glad she would be in the back where the big washing machine was for most of the pint glasses and other oddly shaped cups. After all, Mr. Barnes wouldn’t be hanging in the kitchen.

She pushed her hair away from her face and put on the big pink gloves and started to wash the glasses and plates from some small appetisers they sold until closing time started to near. Once the bar was cut off, she joined Bobby to clean the always messy bar and make it look as precise as it looked every single day. Another day survived, no limbs lost. 

   - That was a good one, Y/N. See you tomorrow. - Bobby bid her farewell as he exited through the door. Y/N stayed behind, moping the floor behind the mar which was mostly a pool of mixed drinks that she always somehow managed to overfill and drop onto the floor on her way to serve them. As she continued to mop, the person who she didn’t want to see sat at the bar and without much thinking, she served him his drink of choice. 

   - I ... hm ... I have to go, I have to walk home and my flatmate is waiting for me.

   - You’re walking home with your flatmate?

   - No, she’s waiting for me at the flat. - Y/N grabbed her cardigan, putting it on which immediately brought her a nostalgic warmth. 

   - I’ll drive you. 

   - Oh .. no, Mr. Barnes. It is not necessary, I’ve walked home before, I know the way. 

   - And I know the type of men who walk around my bar. - he downed the whiskey as if it were water. - Come on. 

Oh god, I’m going to sleep with the fishes. He’s gonna kill me in his car. Y/N thought to herself as she followed him to the back of the bar where he had parked his car. Of course it was a good car, a new model black Audi with sleek matte black leathered seats which looked more expensive than everything together at the bar. She wondered how much money he made. Her father hadn’t told her much about him and all she knew was merely gossip. He opened the door for her which she took as a sign to get inside the car. Once in, she noticed how awfully warm it was, he probably had the heating on so she took off her cardigan, shoving it in front of her feet as he entered the car. 

   - Where am I dropping you?

   - The student campus, south building

   - You’re a student? - he asked as the motor roared, signalling the start of the car. - Why you working here then?

   - It pays well. My mother paid for my first years but I still have my third one and a possible masters. 

   - Why not ask mum for the rest of the money then?

   - Well she’s dead. - she said, not taking the eyes off the road. - Her inheritance lasted as long as it could but tuition is expensive.

   - I’m sorry. - he tried to sneak a look at her but gave up, instead keeping his eyes on the road. - You’re a terrible bartender.

   - You’ve said that one time already, I’ve heard it. If I’m so terrible why don’t you fire me?

   - Bobby likes you. Says you’re a quick learner. Yet again, he likes every single wide eyed Disney Princess girl who works behind the bar. I give you a month or two before you quit or get knocked up.

   - I’m not gonna quit and I’m not gonna get knocked up either. 

   - Got a boyfriend?

   - No.

   - Husband? Friends with benefits?

   - I don’t have the time so if you want to get rid of me you’ll have to fire me.

   - I don’t fire people. - she saw her building come closer and closer from the car window. - Is it that one?

   - Yes. - she grabbed her bag, eager to leave the car before anything could happen. 

   - Hey, you got a black dress? - he asked as she exited the car and she nodded yes. - Good, bring it to work tomorrow. 

She mumbled an okay as the car drove away. God, she was alive. Good.  All she wanted now was to return to her home and in a few minutes she was back in her living room where Wanda and her twin brother Pietro were waiting for her. Of course waiting meant watching Shark Tank and discussing how bad all the inventions were. 

   - How was work in hell? - Wanda didn’t even look at her, eyes glued to the TV while she stuffed popcorn in her mouth.

   - I didn’t need to use the knife you snuck into my bag, thank you.

   - You snuck a knife onto her back? - Pietro looked dumbfound at his sister who immediately snapped back with a response. 

   - She’s working for James Barnes, she needs to carry a knife block and she’s lucky I only put a steak knife. - Wanda turned around in the couch. - Hey where’s your cardigan? I swear you left with it. 

   - Shit. - Y/N looked around. - Fuck, I’ve left it in his car.

   - Whose car? 

   - Mr. Barnes’. He gave me a ride and I took my cardigan off because the car was so warm. Fuck. I’ll never see it again.

   - Why were you in his car, are you crazy? - now Wanda was interested. Clearly her best friend’s lack of judgment was more interesting than the poor soul trying to pitch a tuna can opener shaped like a tuna to a bunch of executives.

   - He gave me a ride ... oh and do you have a black dress?

   - I do. - Pietro said gaining an odd look from the two girls. - What? Girls love me and I love them. Stuff get’s left behind. What can I say?

   - You’re disgusting. - Wanda rolled her eyes. 

taglist: @lookiamtrying @mariamermaid @sebastianstansqueen @unmagically​

[flourgirl]

Heart Skips a Beat

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You work at a coffee shop on campus and develop a crush on the cute astrophysics major who studies there everyday.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Pure fluff. One curse word.

A/N: There WILL be a sequel to Even If It’s a Lie! Until then, here’s a little something to hold you guys over :-)

“I saw you on a Sunday in a café And all you did was look my way And my heart started to race And my hands started to shake” -Nervous, Shawn Mendes

3 p.m. had quickly become your favorite time of the day. Sure, you had already been working for half of your shift by then, but it was worth it. Because despite how tired you were from a full day of lectures, like clockwork, the cutest guy you had ever seen walked into the café to order a caramel latte and do his homework. 

You were a hopeless romantic. A homeschooled bookworm whose only experiences with romance were through the many YA novels you had read growing up. College was honestly your first experience with independence and having a social life outside of your mom, your cat, and your elderly neighbors, Brenda and Pat.

The first day he had come was at the beginning of the semester. You had just started working there to help cut the costs of tuition that your scholarships couldn’t cover. Even though you barely knew how to use the machines at that point, and it took you almost 20 minutes and one phone call to your shift manager to give him his order, he was still really nice to you about it.

By the end of the first week that he started hanging out here, you had memorized his order. For a stranger, there was a lot to like about him. He was super sweet and always dropped his spare change in the tip jar, a rare occurrence amongst struggling college students. He always greeted you by your name, which he only knew because of the tag on your uniform, but you didn’t care. You liked hearing him say it either way.

The more you learned about him, the bigger your crush grew. His name was Peter. Peter Parker, which matched him perfectly. He was an astrophysics major, and he was always busy. So what was he doing hanging out in the café where you worked? Sure, homework, but you had always preferred to go somewhere more quiet, like the library. Not some noisy little coffee shop in the middle of campus where everybody hung out after class.

In between making coffee orders for other customers, you would oftentimes steal glances at him. You thought about how soft his messy brown hair would feel between your fingers, or what it would be like to smell his fabric softener from closer than the width of the countertop that always separated the two of you.

But it was just a silly crush. When you thought about it, the two of you were virtually strangers. He had an entire life outside of the walls of the coffee shop, and he probably didn’t think about you other than when you were taking his order every day. Still, just when you thought about how weird it was to think about somebody you barely knew this much, Peter found ways to make you like him even more than you already did.

Every now and then, Peter wouldn’t show up, and you worried that maybe he had found another place to get coffee or came at another time because he didn’t want to see you anymore. You knew you were overthinking. There was no way that Peter was planning his entire schedule around you. You were just the coffee girl to him and nothing more.

Little did you know that on your days off, Peter was disappointed to find that someone else would be making his coffee that day. Sure, he started coming here to study because it was conveniently located across the street from the laboratory that he interned at, but it was more than that. He came to see you. To see your smile and the way your eyes lit up whenever he walked in. The way you still managed to look cute in the unflattering café uniform and how you didn’t even have to ask what his order was.

He had the biggest crush on you. The five minutes that he spent talking to you each day made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and he took comfort in the fact that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same way about him. But he didn't know what to say to you past small talk. He told Ned and MJ that he had been planning to ask you out for a while now, but every time he walked up to the register, he chickened out. You made him too nervous, and he knew that if he tried too hard, he’d start rambling about string theory or something and scare you away. 

Peter thought about what kind of person you were outside of these four walls. Were you dating anybody? What was your favorite subject? Did you like pineapple on your pizza? He wondered if you even noticed that he was gone every time his “internship” at Stark Industries dragged him away for days at a time. Probably not. He thought about what it would be like to walk you to wherever you went after your shift ended, to make sure you got there safely, but he always had to rush off to somewhere else before you had finished working.

You had started experimenting with leaving little designs on top of his coffee instead of just haphazardly pouring the milk in. At first, they were just sad little blobs, but then you graduated to vaguely leaf-like blobs, and you could now make something that was shaped like a turnip on top of his lattes. You had been working up the courage to leave little hearts, but every time you did, you swirled them away and served it to him without any design at all.

Your friends would lovingly describe you as a klutz. You were constantly tripping over nothing or knocking things over. There was even that one time you almost broke your leg trying to climb one of the supermarket shelves to reach your favorite brand of maple syrup. But out of all of your clumsy mishaps, none of them lived up to what had just happened.

You had sworn you had looked both ways before crossing the street. But when the barrage of car horns and tires screeching interrupted your favorite song, you saw your life flash before your eyes. That was, until, you were flying through the air. Looking at your savior, you were both starstruck and shocked to see Spiderman holding you tightly as he swung from building to building.

It felt like forever before your feet touched the ground and he let go of your waist, but when he did, you were a little disappointed. How did he even know to drop you off at this specific coffee shop? It was insane, but you felt like you knew him. You just couldn’t place why or how before he saluted you and swung away without a word. “Thank you!” you screamed into the sky, knowing he definitely couldn’t hear you over the hustle and bustle of the city.

Peter’s heart was about to burst out of his chest. That was way too close of a call. What if you found out that it was him? What would you think? But he knew that if he hadn’t saved you, he would never forgive himself. Sure, you might get free tuition like that rumor people always talked about in middle school, but you’d also have a ton of hospital bills to pay because Spiderman was a selfish idiot and let you get hit by a taxi.

Your head was still spinning from what had just happened. You quickly changed into your uniform and started your shift, giddy with excitement to tell Peter who you had met today. As 3 p.m. came and went and there were no signs of Peter, you started to accept that the only person you’d get to tell about today was your mom. Go figure, you thought. You finally had something interesting to say to him and he doesn’t show up.

Eventually, after many disappointing coffee orders later, it was time for you to go home and curl up to a cup of tea and watch the latest episode of the Great British Bake-Off. It was ironic, but your favorite contestant this season was Peter, and every week was more and more tense as you worried whether or not he’d make it to the next episode. Sure, he was really good at technicals, but sometimes the flavors of his signature bakes were off. And when was stupid Laura going to get eliminated?

You were so caught up in worrying about who would be going to the finals that you didn’t even notice the guy walking through the doors just as you were leaving the café, knocking you onto the ground. 

“OW!” you squeaked as you hit the tiled floor that your co-worker had just finished mopping.

“Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry,” a familiar voice apologized from above you. You squinted up to see Peter’s brown eyes full of worry, and at that point, you couldn’t even tell that you were hurt anymore. 

He held out his hand for you to take and pulled you up as if you weighed nothing. Still a bit dizzy, you stumbled, and he wrapped his hand around your waist to keep you from falling again. That same familiar feeling you felt earlier that day was rushing back to you. 

“Hey, don’t worry. I’ve got you, Y/N,” he assured you, walking you over to a table to sit down. 

You laid your head down on the table, both embarrassed and woozy from having your crush knock you flat on your face because you were too busy thinking about a televised baking competition to watch where you were going.

“You know we’re closed, right,” you groaned, lifting your head to see him staring attentively at you.

“Yeah, I know,” he answered, laughing nervously and running his hands through his hair. You wished that you were the one doing that instead.

“Oh. Well, you can if you really want to,” he said, leaving you confused as to what on earth he was talking about. It wasn’t until a few moments later that you were ready to curl up into a ball and hide forever. Did you say that you wanted to touch his hair OUT LOUD? TO HIS FACE?

Your cheeks turned crimson and you buried your face in your arms again. “Peter, I’m okay. You can go now.” If he didn’t leave now, you’d probably die of embarrassment right in front of him.

“Y/N,” he started, running his thumb across your arm. “I don’t want to go. I… I came here to see you.”

Your head shot up and you stared at him in disbelief. “You know I’m not the only one here who knows how to make a caramel latte, right?”

“Mhmm,” he hummed, nodding his head with a soft smile. Even in the dim lighting of the café at night, his eyes sparkled. “I hope this is okay for me to say, but��� Y/N. I like you. I like you a lot, and I don’t even like caramel lattes but by the time I realized that I would never get used to the taste, you were already making them without me even having to ask you to.”

“Oh,” you replied, instantly feeling good as new. “I, uh...I like you too.”

You watched as the smile that never failed to brighten your day returned to Peter’s face. “So... Do you—would you, maybe, like to go out with me sometime?”

“Yes!” you replied enthusiastically. Checking your phone, you realized just how long you two had been sitting down. “But we should probably go. The doors were supposed to be locked thirty minutes ago.”

You grabbed his hand, pulling him out the front doors of the coffee shop before scrambling to lock them. When you turned around, you were standing face to face with the guy you’d been crushing on for months. 

Right before Peter could lean in to kiss you, you remembered what you had been dying to tell him about all day. “I almost forgot. I met Spiderman today!”

Peter’s eyes widened. He had hoped you wouldn’t bring it up, but then again, he probably shouldn’t have come here in the hopes of seeing you tonight. Play it cool, Parker, he thought as the two of you walked towards the subway station.

“Oh. That’s really cool,” he said in a tone that was suspiciously underwhelmed. “How’d that happen?”

“Well, I was on the way to work and I guess I was listening to my music a little bit too loud,” you started. “And suddenly I hear all these cars honking at me and WHOOSH! I’m in Spiderman’s arms and he drops me off right in front of the coffee shop. I mean, how did he even know that that’s where I was supposed to be? It was incredible!”

Peter really liked listening to you talk. He liked the softness of your voice and how excited you sounded whenever you spoke to him. “Huh. Are you sure you have a crush on me and not on our friendly neighborhood Spiderboy?”

“Spiderman,” you corrected, intertwining your fingers with his. “And no. I like you and only you.”

Peter laughed, thinking about how mad you’d be when he finally let you in on his little secret. But for now, there was no Spiderman. It was just you and him, and that’s how he liked it.

[okay-victoria]

Random Personal Rant

For anyone somehow here not from the original thread, this started off me getting asked what finishing school is and me getting shit off my chest that is only mildly relevant about how I could both be of the social class that gets sent to finishing school and grows up on welfare.

With an understanding that in many parts of the world it wouldn't qualify as so, as far as the US goes, my dad is from what counts as a very old money family from Baltimore & Philadelphia. Both his siblings went to college and one now owns a major hedge fund, and his sister is married to a C-level executive at a huge conglomerate. His parents went to college. His grandparents went to college. All eight of his great grandparents went to college. My dad...did not go to college. He was not about that life, and while I don't mean it as an insult, when I say his primary occupation until I was ~5 was a drummer in a mediocre band I mean that he opened for a lot of great acts, and if you lived in the Boston to Atlanta area in the 80s you may have heard him play, but he was never a huge national name. But he wasn't an amateur band playing for free at some random local gig either.

My mom grew up on a chicken farm in a Mennonite family in Pennsylvania but also completely rejected her heritage and became a model, sort of like my father, of mediocre status. Not Giselle Bundchen, but had national contracts and if you have a Graco ad/box from 1990-1993 you might see both me and her on it. They met because my mom's friends placed bets, one each, on who could sleep with a member of their favorite local band first and my mom picked my dad and...my mom was actually supposed to go be a model in Tokyo and found out she was pregnant with me and couldn't go 😂

So, after my parents had two kids back to back with a third on the way and determined they needed lifestyles more in line with having three children, they became much poorer than they originally were because my mom stopped working and my dad, with a barely-passed-high-school education but needing a true "day job" worked day labor in construction. My dad's father was too proud to give us money/help if my dad didn't beg for it; despite having eventually four young children my dad never did so we ended up on all the state assistance programs one could imagine. My grandma jokes that dinners at my parents house were BYOC - bring your own chair, because we didn't own any.

My mother and paternal grandmother had no such pride issues and I live in eternal gratitude that my welfare childhood was not as crappy as it should have been because my grandmother would have my mom accompany her on grocery runs and buy us food without my father or grandfather knowing, and every Christmas and birthday my grandparents/godparents could give us the one big ticket gift all the kids wanted that year. But, on the other side, I once got stung by a bee inside my mouth because my brother threw a hairbrush through a cracked window at me and broke it and we couldn't afford to fix it for about two years and a hornet got in one day and rested himself in my coke can (my parents were the very American type that fed me coca-cola in baby bottles at age 8 when I was jealous of my younger siblings lol).

It is hard not to believe in "toxic masculinity" when two men warring over dumbass pride issues would rather their children/grandchildren go without food than suck it up and decide 'help' isn't the worst word in the English language, and you know you've only been saved by two women who came from totally different backgrounds and entirely disapproved of each other but reached out the hand to shake when it came down to toddlers getting the short end of the don't-bend-the-knee stick. It wasn't that either of the men were bad people, I loved them both and got along great with both, but on a societal level I feel they were socialized in a very fucked up way if that was the end result, as both claimed "male pride" in these instances [my dad took multiple thousands of dollars I'd saved from working during college from me during the 2008-2010 financial crisis and didn't tell me and that was the reason I was given for why I hadn't been informed/asked, because it would be too emotionally difficult for an adult man to ask a young woman. My graduation present was them repaying me 1/3 of the money they'd taken from me without asking because I'd like, trusted them when it had been in a joint account that was a holdover from when I was <18 and couldn't have my own bank account].

While in some ways my parents on the surface achieved the American dream of going from nothing to a bunch of money, the real factor in play was that my dad's father was the bank. My parents had no credit and couldn't get real loans. My dad worked construction and during the two major periods that flipping houses was very lucrative, he never had to get an actual loan or pay actual interest, he just had to ask his father to pay out cash and then repay him at a flat 2% interest rate that didn't even accrue over time, just...whenever you are ready, repay the value of the loan + 2%. Because my father was doing something productive, in these instances, my grandfather was happy to pay, because it wasn't giving away money, it was loaning it. I had a very weird situation of mostly being poor but like also getting taken to the "big donors" events at the Kennedy Center and my grandparents regularly buying me a dress as a child worth more than my mom's wedding dress and also needing to pretend I fit in with these people.

And look. When I say "these people"...honestly, by and large, most wealthy people, whether inherited or not, are not the assholes you want to imagine. Most of them are extremely nice. Most of them are generous when it comes to the less fortunate who are in their personal sphere of being. Most of them are just really out of touch. The 100% kindest of all of them that I know once relayed to me that she thought people would be happier if once a year they did what she did...go to the airport with a purse packed full of absolute necessities, buy a one way ticket to the most appealing destination on the flight board, buy your clothes and book your accommodations after you'd arrived, and come back after you felt you'd 'centered' yourself. She didn't understand why there were so many unhappy people who weren't taking this very obvious route to being happier. I didn't quite know how to explain that saying "most" people couldn't afford to do that either financially or from a job/career angle didn't even cover it, as "most" sounds like 70% instead of 99.7%.

I was both my parents eldest son and eldest daughter in the worst combination possible. I was the eldest son because I was the most stereotypically male of all my siblings, in everything from desire to physically fight the battles I was given to dislike of shopping/fashion to lack of emotional connection to my relationships, so I can now fix your average household plumbing/drywall/electrical issue better than most "city" guys I interact with and remain less clingy to them in the process. I was also very much the oldest daughter from a responsibility perspective, I managed our household and from age 10 - 24 managed the finances of our family business, my mom almost died giving birth to my youngest brother after a ruptured uterus that should never have happened in the first place if we had adequate insurance to get her a non-emergency C-section (I was just past 9 years old at the time) and I was informally withdrawn from school for two years to take care of the family when she couldn't because there is no paid parental leave in the US and we got double-fucked by the medical industry because she got a bad "mesh" put in and then had to have a further surgery to repair that which we also had to pay for and didn't have the money to win a lawsuit over.

I don't know quite how to put this, but in the deepest fuck you of the universe, my rich-immigrant-ggggg grandfather's money led to him owning banks, insurance companies, etc, and the family cashed out in a big way when their ownership was bought by and merged with what is now Cigna, one of the biggest US healthcare insurers, and my nuclear family specifically got screwed by the American health insurance industry, but anyway, we were the people selected for that karmic comeuppance so if you want to feel schadenfreude at my expense, I'll allow it without begrudging the sentiment, my family might have fucked up your family’s life too, not just their own.

I got up twice a night to feed my brother because my dad had to sleep unmolested in my room to get to work and my mom was too weak to carry my brother or even hold him against her while she nursed so I had to hold him up to her. Adjusting to living in a city and hearing lots of random noises all the time was not easy when I'd had mom sound instincts from age 9.

I learned to drive the fall my youngest bro was born because my mom couldn't and I had to get my middle brother to preschool and go the grocery store on my own. While I hold absolutely no ill will towards my father or grandfather for this and given that about 1/3 of my paternal family either has an autism diagnosis or should, I fully feel the struggles they both went through to be communicated with, my father wouldn't ask for help, and my grandmother that lived 20 minutes away couldn't give enough help because my grandfather refused to do a single dish on his own as that was outside their "marriage contract" type agreement and she couldn't ever stay with us overnight when there wasn't a clearly-communicated need, so they let the burden fall on a 9 - 11 year old child and that really shaped a lot of my life in both good and bad ways. My youngest brother is 22, and we have only just climbed out of the medical debt his birth left us with between my dad's life insurance and my oldest brother and I paying for the extra cost of out-of-state college tuition.

The irony of all of this is that because my father died before his father, when my grandmother dies, my siblings and I will all inherit enough money (as a non-blood relative my mom, despite keeping her vows to part at death and not having remarried in eight years, is cut out entirely) to make this a non-issue, but my grandfather couldn't conscience spotting his unluckiest child some money in the end of days to pay for my youngest two brothers' education and take that worry off my father as he was dying. The day before he died I had to hold him down in bed to keep him from trying to climb in his truck to go to work because he was so anxious about trying to provide for us in spite of his father having fuck you money, because his father didn't think it was fair to the other siblings (who, at the time, still owned a major hedge fund and were married to a C-level executive of a huge conglomerate). A day and a half later I went back to my job because at the time I was then the sole provider for the family and didn't want to risk asking for the standard week's bereavement leave when I knew I was capable of showing up at work the next day and was fresh out of college so hadn't built up a reputation yet.

My father worked the day each of us was born, so I suppose it is only fair and he smiled at the choice. In spite of what it may seem, I gave a baller and very heartfelt speech at his funeral to all his rich friends that over and above everything, he'd taught us how to be happy with our own lives no matter what, and multiple of them emailed my mom in the aftermath to say they'd reassessed their relationship with their children in light of it, although...tbh I kind of doubt that lasted and they probably changed nothing 😅. The last good talk I had with him, two weeks before he died [his liver was going and it sent toxins to his brain that de-personed him after that and he no longer recognized me as his daughter, but as his sister], I reassured him that though we would all be sad he'd gone, we'd live on just fine without him because that's how he'd raised us, and according to my mom that was what gave him the final bit of peace he needed. Although honestly, I don't think I will ever see the strength in another human again that it took my grandmother to sit next to him and stroke his hand and tell him to close his eyes and imagine he was happy on a beach and die, for God's sake, because he was unaware and in pain and just prolonging it for our sake by then.

That type of obsession my grandfather had with assessing his children and grandchildren on the basis of economic productivity and a very black and white idea of "fair" is one you don't easily forget, I promise you. My hedge fund uncle is currently positioning himself to screw us out of our inheritance because of janky writing in the will and I'm doing my fuck all best to gain the wherewithal to go toe-to-toe with this cold motherfucker in court as the oldest and representative member of my happily much nicer and softer younger brothers who I want to remain that way not because I even care that much about the money, I know what bills affect your credit first and what you can put off paying and all of us have good enough career prospects to do our own thing, but just because I want to give the middle finger to a man that was a multi-millionaire and drew lines on his milk and orange juice bottles when I came over so he knew if I drank what my parents couldn't afford when I was approximately six. Anyway, ask me why I support major reforms in wealth taxation. I don't care who it goes to, just not that guy, you feel?

Having expendable income was very exciting for a bit after I started working but once I got to the hateable point of assessing my annual bonus and internally complaining that I'd spent the money I should have spent on a Sauternes cellar to drop five digits on bedset materials (to be fair they are drop dead gorgeous, very comfy and the factory pays a living wage for people to handmake the sheets/duvets/pillows to people in San Francisco, which is not cheap, so maybe I did more good than harm with that), I two seconds later nodded to myself and went "the government needs to confiscate more money from me". The narrative is always that the "undeserving" will use it for dumb things they don't need like iPhones or refrigerators...?...but like...I could also have gone to Bed Bath and Beyond and bought a very nice sheet/comforter set for at most a tenth of what I paid so am I really spending it responsibly either....?....who is going to get more joy out of this misspent money....?....not me, that is for sure, I probably would have had more fun going to BBB and laying on all the demo beds and buying something there.

My lifelong dream, which may become possible if/when I do have something of an inheritance, is to provide food security for one of the many towns in the US were most residents don't have it. It's the thing I remember the most distinctly over the years. I never could quite believe it when I got to the point that I could just...pay to eat at a restaurant. One of the most disappointed my mother has ever been in me is when I was twenty five and confessed I actually had no idea how much a gallon of milk cost in a city grocery store besides that it was probably between $1 and $5, because I didn't have to know. For now I make a weekly drop off of my excess produce to a mom group I met under somewhat weird circumstances but I was walking through the cut-through that went through the low-income housing back to my apartment at like 2 AM on a Saturday and these moms were out there partying and smoking weed with their kids all strapped in strollers around or the older ones watched by a rotating member of the group and I felt very safe and like these moms had a very good vibe of both living their own lives [seriously for mental health parents but in most cases specifically mothers need to be able to keep up relationships with people their age] but keeping their children safe and accounted for while doing so and trying their fuckin' best against all the odds to figure out how to make that happen when life had dealt them a shit hand.

...anyway, looping way back to the original question of what finishing school is, when I was almost done with middle school my dad had built a legit construction business that then very quickly took off because we lived in a commutable zip code to the now-rich-in-their-own-right people he went to high school with who trusted him to redo their homes. We eventually moved to that zip code but I stayed and commuted back to my old high school. But, i was a pretty wild kid which my father appreciated for a long while because I would follow him around on jobs and enjoy doing physical labor, but once I was mid-puberty and also he had to maybe show me to his high school friends that did not fly.

I snapped - not broke, snapped - my left thumb and my parents had to trap me like a wild animal to get me to go the hospital. Then I got a deep cut that partially injured a tendon in my leg and at eleven I tried to beat the shit out of my dad to prevent him from picking me up to strap me in the car and go to the hopsital. Next I got a deep splinter due to my eternal-barefoot tendencies and it wouldn't come out so got infected and I refused to go to the doctor [another weird back story but I was minorly sexually assaulted [[to be clear, not raped or anything big traumatic]] when I was eight and had to stay in hospital for a week and my parents couldn't be with me all the time so I have a permanent heebie-jeebie about going to the hospital, not true anxiety, I will go if I know I need to and I don't breathe heavy or anything, and I'm actually not permanently weirded out by sex or anything, just doctors in hospitals specifically I kind of unconsciously try to justify not needing to the extent I can rationalize it] and my dad was tired of my antics so he was like "fine if you don't go I will slice your foot in half with a Swiss Army knife to get it out" and I called his bluff and laid down on the floor, stuck my foot on his lap, and he didn't really know what to do when a barely fourteen year old girl called his bluff so my brothers watched in fascinated but horrified awe as I got my foot sliced open spectacularly so that the infection/splinter could come out and I didn't even make a sound out of spite despite it being quite painful to my recollection almost twenty years later.

They saw me cry from pain exactly one time when while trying to break up a fight between all three of them (it was over ice cream) I got pushed and my ankle got dislocated and what actually made me cry was snapping it back in place and they realized it was not a joke. These dumb assholes that I love have ragged on me for "skipping" chores the day after I was in the hospital because the day before that I had to spend 18 hours running Thanksgiving as a good sub-hostess like I didn't have a serious infection that needed treating and couldn't rest because none of them were up to any task beyond peeling potatoes.

After the Swiss Army knife incident, my dad's discussion of sending me to finishing school became real, which I knew when my mom made me take a walk with her and talked about it. Finishing school is like...etiquette school....? In ye olden day when finishing high school was not the norm for anyone, wealthy men finished high school and wealthy women often went to "finishing" school to have a combined education on being a proper lady but also being able to hold a decent conversation with your presumably-educated husband, so it wasn't entirely etiquette non-academic. It was more just like "what a rich man wants in a wife" school, which was sort of household management and knowing enough about cleaning/cooking to correct the staff if they fucked up, how to be a polite hostess, and how to not entirely bore him when you were alone together and had done your five minutes of sex or whatever so actually had to have a conversation. In modern times it has obviously expanded to be less bleak.

I said miss me with that, I can be a girl on my own, so I went full throttle into the girliest sport they offer in high school and ever since have gained the inestimable advantage of knowing how to also use femininity to my advantage, which I am very grateful to my parents for making me learn. It would be great if we lived in a world where that didn't count, but it did/still does, and they really set me up to operate in all the worlds.

It is weird for me to tell the story to Internet strangers because it's one of those things that makes your parents sound terrible and abusive in the general tone of the Internet nowadays, and while I support gender nonconforming children I don't remember my childhood or parents that way. But, I feel like the bits and pieces of my life I've given don't always make a ton of sense together without the context, so here it is, and in the end, I think a number of parts of it are areas where you can probably understand where it makes me have the opinions I do when I write.

Anyhoo, this makes my life sound far worse than it is, I actually have a great life and I am not unhappy with it at all and feel I was on the whole blessed with many more turns of luck than unluck, so, please, do not take this as a depressed artist rant, it is more like a rant of a very energetic person who rants about a lot of things all the time and didn’t need to come out but just did because the question was asked and the time was right with my life being in a bit of flux to think about how I got where I am and where I want to go and why.

Always remember no matter what problems it seems like I have, if I didn’t solve them on my 2 year round the world traveling hiatus I took from working, it’s my own fault, I definitely had the time and money to solve them and just chose not to.

[m-y-fandoms]

Fuyuhiko x reader -  Fuyuhiko’s S/O saves his sister from being killed by Sato

Request: congrats on the blog!! i really like your writing!! could i request fuyuhiko's s/o protecting natsumi from being killed by sato?

Of course! I love Fuyuhiko actually, he just barely missed my top five favorite DR characters list, definitely top 10. Warnings: blood, violence, spoilers for the Danganronpa 3 anime and Super Danganronpa 2, reader’s gender not specified  - Mod Kokichi

     “See ya, babe. Don’t be late after last period today, I got some shit to handle for my dad as soon as I drop you off at work,” Fuyuhiko spoke lazily, a nudge on your shoulder to get your attention again.

     “Yeah, ‘course!” You smiled as he leaned in and pecked you on the cheek, routinely, like he had every morning for the past few years. “See ya, ‘Hiko!” He nodded, sauntering off with books under his arm and his free hand in the pocket of his slacks. “Bye, Peko!” You bowed your head to the swordswoman who followed diligently behind your boyfriend, nodding her acknowledgment to you. You sighed, watching him disappear into the entrance of the main wing of Hope’s Peak Academy. Your eyes glossed over dreamily, lingering on him. Was that a new cologne on him today? Maybe he was wearing his uniform a little neater than usual this morning…

     “Let’s go, fuckin’ space cadet!” A shove from behind knocked you forward toward the entrance of the Reserve Course wing, You sighed deeply. “My brother ain’t that cute, damn!”

     “Natsumi, you could’ve just said something.” You pushed back the frustration in your voice in favor of a small smile in her direction.

     “Whatever, we’re gonna be late, and I’m not dealing with another one of Mr. Nakamura’s lectures on the value of punctuality!” She stuck her tongue out as if gagging, her blonde hair floating through the air as she rushed past you, her shoulder roughly knocking into yours.

     “Geez...that girl…” You shook your head, following behind.

     You couldn’t really complain about anything or anyone at Hope’s Peak, seeing as you were just lucky to be there in the first place. After dating Fuyuhiko for a little over two years, he got scouted and asked to attend Hope’s Peak’s main course as the Ultimate Yakuza. You were so happy for him, and proud, but he wasn’t as thrilled. He was really attached to you, with your father and his father being childhood friends and clan members, and your own childhood friendship with him had blossomed into this loving and loyal relationship. It was the best kind. After all, people always say the healthiest and longest-lasting marriages came when your spouse was your best friend, and you definitely intended to marry that boy one day. With how close you two were, he’d be damned if he was splitting up with you for some stupid school, but both you and his father weren’t having it. Mr. Kuzuryu only gained more influence and pride once his son started going to the best school in the country, and you just wouldn’t let your boyfriend pass up on the opportunity of a lifetime, and so…

     Fuyuhiko had gotten his father to personally pay for your tuition in order to enter the Reserve Course. It wasn’t like your family was poor, but you weren’t Hope’s-Peak-level rich. You protested at first, of course, feeling like a burden, but you could see that Fuyuhiko was quickly getting angry at your refusals and excuses, so you accepted. Plus, he told you that he wanted someone he trusted to look after his little sister, Natsumi, and you let him give you this excuse as a justification to accept his father’s financial support.

     The Reserve Course wasn’t that bad, certainly much more high class than your previous school, but sharing most of your classes with Natsumi was a pain in your ass. Her father was the leader of the Kuzuryu clan. Your father was one of his subordinates, below him, and she seemed to like to remind you of that every five minutes. She talked down to you endlessly, and seemed jealous of the attention her brother gave you, but you had absolutely no room to complain to Fuyuhiko about it after what his father had done for you, so you just didn’t. As far as he knew, you and his sister were on good, neutral terms. She was mean and a smart-ass to everyone, so he didn’t expect you two to be having sleepovers and make friendship bracelets, but he figured you liked her, and she didn’t hate you.

     You could sense a deep insecurity in Natsumi: a need to be recognized, a want to be in the main course, an inferiority complex that you sometimes saw in other Kuzuryu’s you knew, so you tried to always be nice to her. Everyone has their struggles, and her aggressive personality was how she pushed back hers. She was in your life for good, if you wanted to stay with Fuyuhiko, and besides, you promised him you’d look after her. And so, you kept your chin up and walked to class with a smile...until you opened the classroom door.

     “I’m telling you, Kuzuryu, I don’t care who your father is, none of us do! You’re in the Reserve Course just like us because you’re no better than anyone else here!” The green haired girl, Sato, Natsumi’s current and longest-standing arch-enemy, loomed over Natsumi, her face red with anger and hands balled into trembling fists at her side. Really...they’re starting early today...school just started.

     “Move your stupid face and smelly breath out of my face before I move it for you!” Natsumi spat back, leaning further into the argument. You quickly ran and stood between them. Every day was like this, with you or your classmate Hajime Hinata - a plain boy with a big heart - breaking it up before it escalated. But it was wearing on you, having been going on for over a month.

     “What the fuck did you say, bitch?! Just because your dad is some thug criminal doesn’t mean no one can touch you! You’re testing my patience!” Sato’s hand raised, and your own shot out and grabbed her by the wrist.

     “Woah, woah!” Your breath was shaky. “What’s it about, today, guys? What happened?” Sato was mad about you stopping her, of course, but she liked you, certainly more than she did Natsumi, and she respected you and Hajime for always looking out for your classmates, even if she didn’t want to admit it. After all, you’d stuck up for her and others just as much as Natsumi over the course of the semester - not taking Natsumi’s side so much as simply diffusing the situation - so she paused her attack, huffing. You couldn’t actually believe Sato raised her hand to Natsumi. They always bickered, every single day, but it hadn’t gotten physical, yet.

     “She’s talking shit about Mahiru again! I told this bitch to stay away from Mahiru and keep her name out of her mouth, but of course her jealousy knows no limits!” Sato spat, and you looked to Natsumi as if for confirmation. Just then, Hajime Hinata, as well as your professor, waltzed into the room together, just a little late after the bell. Upon seeing the scene before them, Mr. Nakamura spoke out:

     “What’s going on here? I’m a few minutes late and you guys think class should turn into a free-for-all? Get to your seats!” You looked to Natsumi, then Sato.

     “Guys, this isn’t worth it, please…” Your eyes pleaded softly. Sato scowled, turning away and returning to her seat. Natsumi pushed past you, her lips close to your ear.

     “I’ve told you before and I’m telling you again, I don’t need you fighting my fuckin’ battles for me…” she whispered, her tone flat and menacing, “I don’t care if you’re dating my brother, if you get in my way again, I’ll handle you and Sato.” You knew she didn’t mean it. She was hotheaded like her brother, and at this moment she felt bested by Sato, not having gotten to say her piece and have the final word in the argument. She was embarrassed and angry. So you let her go back to her seat without a response or retort.

     When the class period ended, you caught Natsumi walking past Sato as everyone was leaving the room, speaking harshly. “Hey, Sato, raise a hand to me again, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

~

     You were in the back of a sleek limousine, sitting on Fuyuhiko’s lap, your arms around his neck as he attacked your neck with rough kisses. Being alone in the back was nice and all, but it felt so...off. Usually, Natsumi rode along with you, and any friends that were riding back to the Kuzuryu east-side guesthouse after school to hang out. Friends and non-clan members weren’t allowed in the Kuzuryu main manor, it was far too dangerous, but the Kuzuryu’s owned many little extravagant homes, lounges, stores and clubhouses where you’d meet up and pass time with friends.

     “ ‘Hiko, why isn’t Natsumi here, again?”

     “I told you, some shit about a photography club meeting after school. You know she likes taking pictures and shit.” His brow furrowed at the interruption before going back to your neck. “Geez, just savor it. I rarely have time to be alone with you.” You pushed his shoulders back.

     “Y-yeah but, Natsumi isn’t in the photography club for the Reserve Course. I know because I’m in it...we don’t have a meeting this week.” You started to worry.

     “Whatever, who cares. Maybe she went off to give some kid a handy behind the school.” You rolled your eyes at his facetious tone and he smirked. “Why do you care? She’s fine.” He took his attack south to your collarbone, and you let him as you continued.

     “Well...it’s just…she’s been having issues with this girl in class and I’m worried…”

     “Issues?” His head popped up, face screwed up in an annoyed and anxious expression, but then melting into careful suspicion just as fast. “What kind of issues? I’m sure that if it was that bad, you’d have told me a while ago, yes?”

     “W-well, of course, but...I mean nothing’s happened, really…they usually just swear and insult each other, but today, things almost got physical…” He paused, thinking.

     “...what’s been going on?” Physical for a boy used to being around yakuza could mean anything from a fistfight to a bullet to the head, so he automatically assumed the worst most of the time.

     “I don’t know...they just hate each other. Natsumi doesn’t like this girl...Mahiru Koi...something. She’s in your class. She’s jealous of her, I think...and so Sato, the one Natsumi is fighting with, is defending Mahiru to be a good friend, but-“

     “Pfft! I thought you were gonna say something serious. This is petty high-school girl shit, s/o! If they wanna throw punches, break their nails and pull hair, let them. Natsumi and I see blood spilled every day. She can handle herself in a fight. Let her pop this Sato chick in the mouth, then. Who cares? Bet it will settle this little spat of theirs. You shouldn’t be so stressed about it.” His eyes softened, rubbing your back with one hand.

     “I know, it’s just...I mean you told me to look out for her, and it’s not like I don’t care about your sister, she’s like family to me…”

     “It’s not your job to babysit and bodyguard her. I just said that so you’d take the damn tuition money and I think you know that,” he snorted, shifting your position on his lap to kiss you on the forehead. “If she really needs someone like Peko, we’ll get her someone, but we both wanted to go to school without the clan’s influence. You know that…” he trailed off.

     “I know, but-“ the driver stopped abruptly.

     “I’ll see you after work. Don’t stress about this, seriously.” Fuyuhiko pushed your folded up work clothes into your hands, and you gave him a look of warning, as if to say ‘you aren’t taking this seriously’ before he gestured toward the limousine door, giving you a playful slap on the ass as you exited with the driver patiently holding the door open for you. “I love you.”

     “I love you, too, ‘Hiko,” you smiled before pushing through the large crystal doors on the upscale, Kuzuryu-owned men’s clothing boutique for your shift.

~

     The next day was like any other school day: dropped off at the gates, Fuyuhiko’s peck on your cheek, Natsumi walking with you to first period...but, what was that grin on her face…? She hated waking up early, she hated first period...she was always sluggish or irritable and waiting for her morning caffeine to kick in. You decided you were being paranoid, and shook it off.

     When you entered the classroom, the students were all huddled in the corner, surrounding Sato, who was screaming at Hajime about something.

     “-and I am not just gonna let this slide, Hinata! You better fuck of-“ Hajime saw you two enter, and Sato’s eyes followed his own, her rant cutting off. Locking eyes with Natsumi, who smirked back wickedly, she flew out of her seat, launching herself at your future sister-in-law. Natsumi fought back, her hands around Sato’s neck as Sato pulled her down to the ground.

     “Oh my-stop!” You pulled at Natsumi’s arms, everything seeming to happen so fast. She threw an elbow back toward you for interfering, and it hit your side roughly. You grimaced, the pain working hard but your adrenaline working harder. You thrust yourself between the girls, pulling Natsumi back with all of your might. Hajime rushed over, pulling Sato off the ground and holding her back as she kicked and swung.

     “I told you-! You-let go of me!!!” Natsumi resisted as well, and you and Hajime locked eyes, barely keeping hold of the two combatants.

     “What could possibly be worth all this!” You wheezed, Natsumi quickly overpowering you.

     “That cunt! Let me go, Hinata or I’ll fuck you up, too!” Sato roared, catching the attention of Mr. Nakamura, who rushed in and quickly pressed his authority, threatening both girls with suspension or worse if they spoke another word or touched each other. They were both sent to the headmaster’s office, with Hajime being asked to escort them since they ‘obviously needed to be monitored like children’.

     You sat in your desk seat, uniform askew, armpits wet with perspiration. Another student filled you in after class. Apparently, Natsumi had gone over to the photo development room in the main course’s wing after school, and ripped up each and every photo Mahiru was going to present at the upcoming photography competition on campus. Twenty photos for a gallery opening up tomorrow for student work. Twenty priceless, stunning photographs by the Ultimate Photographer, all gone. Oh...so that’s why Sato was so pissed. You had to admit, it was hard to defend Natsumi at this point. You released a breath you’d been holding in, putting your head down on your desk to just calm your thoughts before texting Fuyuhiko. You filled him in about what happened, every detail, and your thoughts on it, taking Sato’s side as gently as possible. You had hoped to get his counsel, simply wanting validation and reassurance that there was nothing to worry about, but you ended up only making it worse.

     Natsumi texted you about fifteen minutes later, calling you a fucking snitch and many other expletives, saying with malice that now her brother was on her case. Fuyuhiko then texted you saying he told Natsumi she better go straight to the limo after the last bell rang like a fire was lit under her ass, and that he wanted you to stand outside her last class and wait for her to make sure she did just that. You swallowed your spit down hard, throat going dry all of a sudden. You didn’t intend for this to happen. Now Natsumi was going to hate you, and Fuyuhiko is going to be in a bad mood. Why did you have to be so stupid? Why did Natsumi have to cause so much trouble? Maybe you should just let her suffer on her own, and stop stressing about it like Fuyuhiko said. This wasn’t fair, for you to feel like this because of her behavior.

~

     You left your last class a few minutes early, rushing to Natsumi’s classroom with an exhausted and anxious air about you. You found the class, and leaned on the wall beside the door, preparing for her to march out and scream at you and who knows maybe even strangle you because that’s what she was into now apparently and-

     Your ears perked up at a loud sound, like muffled yelling and a crash of glass. It sounded nearby, but far away at the same time. The yelling picked up, a bit louder now, and you felt yourself get nervous for no reason. It had to be on this floor, and close. You looked around, and held your bag close, sprinting down the hall. The sound got louder, confirming your suspicions until you were in front of the music room, with yelling and then a strangled cry coming from the other side. You panicked, fumbling with the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge. You pounded on the door, your breathing getting harder and faster. Backing up, you braced yourself, and ran at the door with the strength of fight-or-flight adrenaline in your veins, throwing your shoulder into the hard door and it flew open, slamming into the wall on the other side.

     “NATSUMI!” You didn’t have time to baby your injured shoulder, as the scene before you needed immediate action, obviously. A broken glass fish tank was scattered on the ground, gravel and quickly dying freshwater fish littering the floor. The room was a mess, with sheet music and desks knocked over and spilled out everywhere. Sato stood near the window, her hands around Natsumi’s neck in a vice-like grip, and Natsumi gasping and flailing, her eyes slowly rolling to the back of her head. “Sato, what the fuck are you thinking?!!!” You ran at her, and Sato didn’t even look in your direction, her mind clouded with hatred and blood lust. Knocking into Sato with all you had, she fell forward into the window, releasing Natsumi as the window splintered and cracked around her.

     Natsumi hit the the wall beside the window and fell to the floor, gasping and choking, her lungs clawing desperately for air. Sato leapt at her again, and you tackled her to the ground, looking up at Natsumi.

     “Go! GO! Fuyuhiko will be at the gates! Get him!” Natsumi looked shocked, traumatized, and simply stared at you, while Sato spat and growled and tried to buck you off, reaching for Natsumi’s skirt. “Get someone! Please!”

     “I-I told you I don’t need y-your help, s/o!” She tried to keep up her gangster’s-daughter persona even in her shaken-up state, but her voice betrayed her and tears sprung from her eyes. Sato threw you off and started to stand.

      “Run! Natsumi, RUN!!” She heard the seriousness in your voice, the fear, and she had never heard you sound like that before. You were her brother’s sensitive, pacifist, kind-hearted s/o, and here you were, in danger because of her. She shook off her pride, and ran toward the door as you grabbed Sato’s ankle and she tripped to the ground again. Natsumi disappeared down the hall, screaming for help the entire way.

      “Fuck you! Fuck you!! She deserved this! You ruined everything!” Sato sounded like an animal more than a high-school girl. She reached to her right, twisting her body around violently until she could reach a long shard of glass from the fish tank, and she brought it down hard on your thigh, the glass tearing into your flesh.

     You screamed out in pain, your vision blurring quickly at the shock of it, sobs coming immediately from your mouth. Blood gushed out of the inches-deep wound, and your heads involuntarily released Sato. When you steadied yourself, steeling your nerves, and reached out to try and neutralize her again, she pulled the glass out of your leg, slamming it down again, hitting a vein deeply before pulling it out. You yelped and forced yourself to stand as she did, blood spurting freely from your leg. You fell more than threw yourself onto her, your head beginning to spin and feeling consciousness leaving you slowly. Leaning on her, you wrapped your arms around her waist with all of your remaining energy, and gripped tightly, hoping you could at least burden her enough to make leaving to room slower and making it impossible for her to catch up to Natsumi or flee the scene before help came.

     Now with a great strength advantage over you, she arched her back, threw her head back, and slammed you behind her into the wall. Your head hit the wall with a crack, and immediately you slumped to the ground, your world going dark.

~

     “...hear me? S-.....” fuzziness. Emptiness. Darkness. “-lose you, please! You h-“ A voice faded in and out, then finally out for good. Hours later, you felt yourself stir.

     When your eyelids flew open, the ceiling above you was white, clean, calming.

     “S/o?!” Fuyuhiko? You sat up quickly, a pounding in your head making you gasp and whimper. “No, no! You need to stay down.” A hand on your chest softly guided you back onto the pillow below you. You turned your head to the side. You took in your surroundings slowly. A hospital. You were in a hospital bed, and Fuyuhiko had been in a chair beside you, now standing at your side. His hands flew to your face, cradling your cheeks. “You’re an idiot, you know that? Are you fucking crazy?” His words were harsh, but there was no anger behind them, only worry and pain. You felt the wrap of linen around your head wound, and adjusting your leg at all resulted in a sharp spike of pain shooting up your body.

     “Where’s Natsumi? Is she okay? Did Sato-“

     “I don’t wanna hear that bitch’s name. And why are you worried about Natsumi right now?!” Now there was anger. “You almost fucking died, s/o! I almost lost you!” His voice cracked on that last word, and your eyes widened at the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes before he angrily rubbed them away with his sleeve. “Natsumi’s fucking fine. She didn’t have anything more than a few bruises on her neck. Nothing’s broken or injured except her pride. And she will be coming to thank and apologize to you at length later.” You didn’t comment on that last bit, deciding instead to ask about what happened after you passed out.

     Natsumi found a security guard at the entrance, he explained, and he saw her screaming from his position at the school gates. He rushed over to yell at her and figure out what the hell was going on, before having her grab him by the wrist and force him into the school with stuttering gibberish about you and that you were in trouble or something like that with the security guard running close behind. When they got to the music room, the door was open and Sato was nowhere to be found.

     Fuyuhiko had screamed your name, his throat ripping apart as he swore and cried and snot ran down his face like a fool. He ran to what he thought was your corpse, blood splattered everywhere, pooling under you, a little patch of blood on the wall behind you head. He took in your closed eyes and thigh oozing slowly-drying blood, and picked you up into his arms, his clothes getting covered in the liquid. He screamed at Natsumi to call for the police, an ambulance, anything, while the security guard called for backup and went off to find Sato. You were brought immediately to the hospital along with Natsumi, and he’d been waiting by your bed ever since, just pleading, begging you to wake up. Sato was apprehended by police a few blocks from the school, obviously off her rocker and in a manic state.

     “You...you were almost gone. You lost...just so much blood,” he sniffled.

     “But, I’m here,” you reached up and grabbed his hand, a comforting smile on your lips, “aren’t I?” He scoffed at you.

     “You fucking idiot,” he shook his head, leaning down and kissing you roughly on the lips, tears from his eyes falling onto your cheeks. “I fucking love you. Don’t make me worry like this.” He pulled back, face inches from yours.

     “I love you, too, so much.” You looked back at him with some indeterminable emotion washing over you. You were just overwhelmed.

     “I will always love you. Please, don’t leave me.”

[000scans]

[scans] monotube magazine vol. 2 video call with svt x francesca under cut

Sunday 7 a.m. Eastern time in the U.S. The time in Cheongdam-dong, Seoul, after just finishing photoshoots with Monotube, was 8 p.m., the evening when both body and mind are exhausted. At a distance of 13 hours, global idol group SEVENTEEN and global jewelry designer Francesca Amfitheatrof met together. SEVENTEEN made a team bracelet before their official activities for the 7th mini-album, “Heng:garae.” It is a bracelet that combines a design in the form of a cable tie with a tag made of silver material; and the flat head of the tag is imprinted with a logo symbolizing SEVENTEEN.

Francesca is the one who designed the bracelet. She is the world-class designer who was the first female design director of the high-end jewelry brand Tiffany & Co. and currently serves as the artistic creative director of Louis Vuitton’s Clock Jewelry line. She is also the founder of global jewelry brand “Thief and Heist.” 

The collaboration of the bracelet between “Thief and Heist” and SEVENTEEN was made by Francesca’s active proposal. SEVENTEEN members directly asked Francesca why she chose SEVENTEEN as a collaboration partner in 2020, after the collaboration with global pop singer Elton John in 2019. They also asked how the brand name was made, “the thief and robber,” and all the curiosity they had. From now, we will broadcast a video call between Francesca and SEVENTEEN.

Francesca: Hi guys! Nice to meet you all. SVT: Nice to meet you too! Good morning, Francesca. Francesca: How are you all? How was the shoot? Joshua: We had such a great time. We really like… (showing the bracelets together) Francesca: You all got the tags! SVT: Very nice!

Francesca: Do you all speak English? Joshua: No, only two of us speak English. But, we will like translate for our members. Seungkwan: His (Vernon) hometown is New York. Francesca: I know one is from, you (Joshua) are from LA, right? In California? SVT: Oh, wow.

Joshua: We actually prepared some questions to ask you. Francesca: Fantastic!

Joshua: So, the first question is, how did you get to know us, like our team, SEVENTEEN, and why did you choose to collaborate with us? Francesca: Okay, good question. So, I’ve been to Korea many many times. I’ve worked in Seoul, I’ve done a million projects, spent months and months in Seoul. A lot of great friends, and I am a huge fan of Korea. I also love K-Pop. The first collaboration I did was with Elton John. Joshua: Oh, we’ve heard about that. Francesca: And the second collaboration is with you guys. I thought that the one thing that was really important to me was to do things that were very different. So, from Elton to you is so different. I worked a little bit with Jisoo from Blackpink, she is a big fan as well of the bracelet. And I wanted to do something because the brand is very unisex. I want to make jewelry that is not traditional. And so, um I am a huge fan of yours, it was a great kind of, you know, global initiative to have Elton and then to have you guys. Also lastly, is that I love your style. And you always wear jewelry like you wear chains. Such a cool style. So I thought it was a perfect combination. Seungkwan: I agree with you.

Joshua: Our second question is what is the meaning of your brand Thief and Heist? Francesca: So, you guys know the film “Ocean’s 11”…? SVT: Yeah, we do. Francesca: Right, so you know that thing of the very elegant minds that you need to create the perfect heist. I always like to work with incredible people who are courageous, smart, and elegant. I’m always fascinated by that type of world that is really interested in jewelry. But see it in a naughty way, a disruptive approach that challenges traditions. Because jewelry is always so traditional and Thief and Heist is not! Every time it launches something it’s gonna be very different. So, that’s the whole ethos behind the brand. Joshua: That’s cool. We love the meaning behind your brand. We actually didn’t know the meaning. So I was like, “Thief and Heist, what does that mean?”

Vernon: Our third question is, why did you use the recycled plastic for this particular jewelry? Francesca: So, I really wanted to find a way to highlight how precious a material plastic is. To try and shift people’s thinking from a single use, throw away mentality to one of value and permanence. We sourced reground plastic for The Tag, which is essential in highlighting the importance of the concept of the “circular economy.” For the 20% which is new plastic, we wanted to offset that and found an amazing charity called the Plastic Bank who we support. They build ethical recycling ecosystems in coastal communities around the world and pay the collectors a premium for the materials they collect to better help them provide basic family necessities such as groceries, school tuition, and health insurance. So it’s like tap water that keeps on running and so we have to kinda find solutions. We’re never gonna get rid of plastics completely but we need to find different solutions that help, right? The Oceans and the sea. So, we’ve started the campaign called “Make plastic precious.” Treat plastic like as if it was gold. You know? So you use it very carefully.  Vernon: I see, I see. Wow, that’s a very noble cause. That’s awesome.

Joshua: Is there a way to take off the bracelet? Francesca: No, it’s permanent. Joshua: Oh, we have to cut it. That’s the only way to take it off? Why did you make it that way? Francesca: Um, because I wanted to make something that you don’t think about. Something that stays with you. But what it will do is it will always remind you of today. It’s like capturing a moment. So every time you look at your bracelet, it has a meaning. Because it’s a part of you, but when you click it on, that moment stays with you. So it’s either a memory of a moment or a person. You know? It’s hard to put the tag on by yourself, so you’ll always remember the person that tags you. So if you were to give a tag to somebody, that person will always have you with them.

Vernon: Oh, I also think this bracelet kind of reflects the generation we are living in right now? Like generation that uses so much plastics and yeah I think it’s a cool bracelet. Francesca: Fantastic, thank you. It’s like a new modern friendship bracelet. It’s like a new way of treating a friendship bracelet. Even your fans. All your friends, and your fans are called CARAT, right?

Vernon: Right. And umm, personal questions, what kind of music do you like to listen to? Francesca: I love funk. Prince is like my all time favorite musician. I even have an earing, with Prince’s symbol, I don’t know if you can see. Um so, I think that he was super talented. What about you guys? Do you have all different, you all have very different musical tastes? Don’t you? 

Vernon: Yeah, I mean we have so many members, so like the variety of music we all listen to is just… but we definitely like “funk” too. Seungkwan: Oh we actually have a song called “Very Nice”. Joshua: That’s like similar to the type of music you might like. Francesca: Oh, your first song, I was listening to your first ones. First of all, you started your band, you launched your first song, your first single on the 26th of May, which is my birthday.  SVT: Your birthday? Really? Wow, that’s crazy!

Francesca: And also you guys, you started off funky and then do more ballads, you do R&B and then you do ballad and you do a lot of different musical genres. Joshua: We experiment. Vernon: We don’t try to fix the genre of music. Francesca: And your new album is coming out? SVT: Yeah, very soon.

Francesca: Yeah, I wanted to know, you guys when you got together, did you all meet for the first time, or were any of you were friends already, some of you were in another band or some of you were on TV shows. How was it when you first met? Vernon: We all met each other for the first time. Like through our company’s training center. First time we all met together, they never knew each other even before.

Joshua: We just got closer through the years, through our training system, we had to live together for seven years. It’s been like seven years. Seungkwan: Eight years. Joshua: Ah, eight years actually, that we’ve been living together. So, yeah we are basically family now, just brothers. Francesca: Fantastic.

Joshua: We just want to show you that we appreciate you for designing such an amazing bracelet. Vernon: One last question, actually this is the most important question. We all have Team rings. Right here. Francesca: That’s Seventeen in Roman numbers?

Vernon: Yeah, this is our fourth one, and we just wonder if we’d have an opportunity that you’d like to design our next ring, it would be such an… Francesca: I would love to! 100%. Okay? Vernon: Such an honor. You promised! (pinky promises)

Francesca: Definitely, and I’m so excited, I can’t wait to listen to your new music and you guys what you are doing is so great. You all have amazing style. You really do. Amazingly talented. SVT: Thank you so much. Hope we can meet you soon, um, in person. Francesca: Absolutely, either anywhere in the world. Either in Seoul or in the states or in Europe. Take care, okay?

[missmentelle]

Tips for cutting off toxic, manipulative, and abusive parents?

I recently wrote a guide to escaping from a toxic household if you are currently living with your parents, but to summarize, cutting them off basically boils down to two things: financial independence and emotional resolve. 

When you are cutting your parents out of your life permanently, the most important thing to do is to get yourself into a position where you no longer need them for anything financially. This doesn’t necessarily mean that you need to be debt-free or living a middle class lifestyle - you just need to be able to pay for all of your rent and expenses every month without any assistance from them. If you are still in school, you need to secure a way to pay for your remaining tuition - like a scholarship, needs-based financial aid or student loan - and make sure that you don’t need your parents’ signatures on anything to get that money. Needing any kind of money or material support from your parents gives them leverage over you; it’s something that they can hold over your head to maintain control of you. So long as you rely on them for room and board, tuition or financial support, cutting them off is not going to be a realistic option for you - once they have no financial hold over you anymore, they have no weapon to wield against you. 

Achieving financial independence is something that is obviously easier said than done, but as someone who has been financially independent since age 19 (not because my parents are abusive, but because they are flat broke) and financed two degrees by myself, there are a couple of tips that you can use to get there as quickly as possible:

Start saving money in a place where they can’t get it. Make sure that you have a bank account in your name only, so that your parents cannot take money out of your account or tell how much you have. 

Start building your credit. You will not have an “oops, mom, I’m short on rent this month, can you send me $200?” lifeline that your peers have. Your “in case of emergency” plan is your credit card. Get a basic credit card - even if it’s a “secured” card that makes you keep $500 in your bank account to get it - and start building your credit. Make one purchase with the card per month and pay it off right away to avoid interest. Be responsible with your card, and build a good credit score as quickly as you can - this will make it much easier for you to rent apartments, get loans and buy a house later down the line. 

Get a budgeting app or spreadsheet and learn to use it. Make sure you know exactly how much you earn, how much you spend, how much you’re saving, and how much money you need to have in order to be financially independent. Knowing where your money is going is an essential part of the process. 

If you’re in school, try to graduate on time. Make sure you are taking a full course load if you can, and make sure that you are taking the correct courses for graduation. Delaying graduation often means delaying your independence. 

Ask for help when you need it. If you are in school, ask your financial aid office or student advisor for information about scholarships, bursaries and grants. If you’re working, ask your boss about professional development and career advancement opportunities. 

Take on odd jobs if you need to. I have worked many odd jobs to keep myself afloat and build my savings - you can see if anyone needs babysitting, tutoring, help with yard work, dog walking, etc. I’ve done paid freelancing writing, taught English online, delivered flyers and taken on part-time jobs; sometimes you have to grind a little bit to give yourself a cushion of savings. 

Minimize your spending. It goes without saying, but it’s easier to be financially independent if you find ways to live on less money. Find roommates or rent a room in someone’s home instead of finding your own apartment. Try to minimize your subscription services and make sure you’re not paying for subscriptions you no longer use. Learn to cook and make as many meals at home as possible. 

The other important component of cutting off manipulative and abusive parents is to gather up your emotional resolve and commit to cutting them out of your life. Toxic and manipulative parents will use every tactic in the book to try to get back into your life - you know your parents best, but expect that they might beg, lie, threaten, make false promises, make appeals for sympathy, or use other underhanded tactics to try to regain control of you. They may drag other people that you care about into the situation and have those people plead on their behalf. Some do whatever they can to get you to drop your guard and let them in again. Start thinking about that possibility now, so that you can prepare for anything they might throw at you. Remember:

Don’t panic if your parents call the cops or report you missing. If you are an adult, you cannot be forced to go home to your parents, even if your parents report you missing. If law enforcement contacts you, answer their questions, explain that your parents are controlling, let them know that you don’t want any help and tell them that you don’t want your personal information released to your parents. Your family will only be told that you were located safe and that your case is closed. 

Lock down your social media and online presence. Block your parents from your phone, and make sure that they are blocked from all of your social media accounts so that they cannot get information on you. It may be a good idea to set your accounts to private for a while or change your handles and profile pictures so that they cannot find you. 

Prepare yourself for the possibility that you might have to cut off other family members too. When you cut off your parents, brace yourself for the possibility that other members of your family that you were on good terms with - aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, etc - may take your parents’ side, or may reach out to encourage you to forgive your parents “for the sake of the family” or “to keep the peace”. Being free of your parents sometimes means cutting ties with family members who won’t respect your decision. 

Remember the reasons that you decided to cut them off in the first place. Sometimes when you’ve been away from an abuser for a while, you will start to forget the abuse and become nostalgic for the good times that you had with that person. You might even decide that you “overreacted” by cutting them off and consider give them a second chance. Tread carefully with this. Remind yourself of the reasons you left.

The first few months after you leave may be difficult. Your parents may fight back against your decision as hard as they possibly can, and you may find that you have a lot of grieving to do - not because you miss your parents, necessarily, but because you have to come to terms with the fact that you will never have the loving and healthy relationship with your parents that you may have wanted. You will get through it. Seek out support from therapists or from other people who have cut off their parents. Focus on forming new, healthy relationships with the people in your life. Build a life free from abuse, a life that makes you happy and fulfilled. Stay strong, stay focused. Remember that you deserved better than your parents were willing to give.  Best of luck to you.  MM

[stillchaoticlogic]

Such a Tease: Chapter 2

Pairing: (Aged) Gary/Blue Oak x Reader

Summary: After a tragedy, you make the decision to quit your career as a trainer and focus on breeding Pokemon for the general population. You are one of the best in the region. You aren’t expecting the have to deal with your childhood rival and crush suddenly popping back into your life. After all, Gary Oak broke your heart and now you are determined to break his… or are you?

NOTES:*This is my very first pokemon story written many many years ago. I’ve decided to revamp it and see what happens! I hope you enjoy a little Gary / Blue love! I will kinda be combing the anime and game versions and I may or may not have just bought the manga to read… It will kinda be my take on these characters. Ash may become more like Red, but I haven’t really decided yet… I’m just having fun with this!*

You glare into hardened ‘innocent’ eyes.

“You are going to listen to me, you know that don’t you?” you question the baby Buneary before you.

It merely blinks up at you with a stubborn look on its adorable face, before it crosses its arms and turns its nose the other way. You know for an esteemed trainer you sure get snubbed a lot.

“UGH! LOLA! Do something with your child! She is just like you were!” you yell angrily at Lola your Lopunny.

She merely gives you a, ‘what do you want me to do about it?’ look and hops away.

“Some help you are-” you mutter as you watch her go.

“Hey (Name)!” you hear someone yell from across the yard. Looking up you notice Ash Ketchum running across the yard followed closely by a guy a little older than him and a girl no older than sixteen. As they get closer you vaguely recognize the guy as a gym leader, but you can’t place his name.

“Hey Ash!” you say when they get close enough to hear you, “Who are your friends? My help, I hope?”

“You got that right! This is Brock and his little sister Raine.”

“I prefer the term ‘younger’ thank you,” She corrects.

“Right… Younger….”

“Now be nice Raine,” Scolds Brock gently.

“Hi! I’m (Name),” you say introducing yourself to the newcomers.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, have we ever battled?” questions Brock.

“Probably! I think you gave me my first badge way back when,” you say with a laugh. 

“What really?!” exclaims Raine from beside the two of you. 

“Yeah, it’s been a while but I remember a Geodude and an Onyx.”

“That was my team a long time ago. Geodude is now a Gollum and Onyx is a Steelix.”

“Very cool! My little Eevee is now an Espeon, it suits her well.”

He chuckles, “I can’t wait to meet her.”

“Soon enough! Now tell what experience you both have!”

“My brother has a lot of experience. Not only did he travel with Ash on his journey but he also worked at a breeding center for several months. And he is still the Pewter city gym leader,” Supplies Raine in a, dare you say, haughty voice.

“Well that’s fantastic for your brother, but I really would like to know about your own experience with Pokémon.”

“I… well…Um… I don’t really have a whole lot…” she mutters while looking down.

“But she is a fast learner and a hard worker!” interjects Brock on her behalf.

“Good! Then she should have no problem getting this baby Buneary into its poke ball.”

“Oh! That’s easy! I’ll have that done in no time flat!” she says confidently. 

“Ok then. Why don’t you give a whirl?” you say as you throw the ball to her.

She catches it easily and advances toward the Buneary.

“Pokeball go!”

You hold back a laugh as the Buneary leaps up and kicks the ball back to her.

“Why you little…”

“Bun! Bun-ariii!” it says before running off.

“Hey get back here you little twerp!” Raine says giving chase.

“Well, that should tone down that attitude a little. This might take a while guys why don’t we go in and talk about things?” you say turning to the boys. They look on in shock before following you toward the center.

“Wow (Name) this place is really impressive!” Ash exclaims as he follows you through the gardens to the house. 

“Thank you! I have a feeling that it is going to be quite the hand full, but I promised my grass and water Pokémon that I would make a garden for them.”

“But I thought that you only trained psychic, dark and ghost type Pokémon,” Ash said in confusion.

“I do, but I didn’t always.”

“Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t be able to get through the leagues without a little variety.”

“That’s right.”

By this time you have reached the door to your center and you open it up to let them in. Lady wakes up from her nap on the counter and looks inquiringly at your visitors. She jumps down and walks over to you and sits beside your feet.

“Brock this is Lady,” You introduce.

Lady inclines her head as regal as ever.

You turn to the boys and motion them further into the house where the lounge is situated. You place yourself on a chair while the boys find themselves on a couch.

“Now Brock, Raine said that you have experience with the ways of Pokémon Breeding? And you are interested in a job?” you question hopefully, you really do need some more people with experience.

“That’s right. I would only be able to help out part-time I do have a gym to take care of. I’ve decided to stay in Pewter but the commute isn’t too far.”

“And what about Raine?”

“She goes to Viridian Private Academy and lives on campus. I’m afraid that is why I need another job, to pay for her tuition.”

“I see.”

“She wants to be a breeder so she wants a job here for the experience. She wants to be full time but I won’t let her because of school unless it is summer of course.”

“Well I have a deal in the works with the Academy she attends, so I shall see what I can do to help.”

“OH NO! We’re not that bad off!”

“No, I was asked to do this anyway. It was their idea. It seems that my breeding center and status as a trainer are quite valuable. I had to disconnect the phone lines just to get anything done today!”

“Oh is that so?”

“What kind of deal do you have with the academy?” pipes up Ash for the first time.

“They asked me to do a few classes there and allow a few field trips here. I’m being paid for the classes and field trips but I can’t do it all alone, so any students there that work for me will be assisting me during the classes and help with the supervision and demonstrations on the field trips since they are doing that the school agreed to take their tuition down a little. The exact amount is still in the air but besides that, it’s all concrete.”

“Wow! That is really great!” Brock says with relief.

“Oh...don’t thank me yet.”

“Huh? Why? That’s a great cause!”

“Yeah, but I only did it because I need the money for the maintenance of this place. I put my savings into this, so I’m kind of broke right now. So, I really can’t pay you a whole lot to start out with but I promise that when things pick up and I get more established you’ll get a raise!”

“Haha don’t worry about that! I’ll help out here for free; you’ll be helping enough if you can get her tuition reduced.”

“No way! You are getting paid and so is Raine, unfortunately since she has no experience she will get paid even less-“

“I GOT IT!!!!” yells Raine as she comes bursting into the room making everyone jump.

“Got what?” exclaims Ash.

“Don’t do that!” yells Brock in surprise.

“I think I just had a heart attack….” You mutter while clutching at your heart.

“I finally got the Buneary in the Pokeball!!” She says while proudly displaying the Pokeball for all to see. “That means I get to work here right!?”

“Haha that’s right,” you chuckle at her excitement.

“YES!!!” she yells happily while leaping into the air.

“But not if you keep yelling….”

“Right….” she mutters looking away, “Oh! Here is your Buneary back,” she says while handing you the ball.

“No,” you say pushing it back to her, “you’re going to need some help dealing with all of the pokemon here, not to mention taking care of one of your own is the best part of being a breeder.”

“Oh wow!!! You’re serious, aren’t you?!?! Thank yo- wait… is there any way I could have a different one? This one is really annoying!”

“Raine!” Yells Brock.

“I mean… Thank you….”

“You’re welcome.”

“So!”

“Yes?”

“What level does it evolve?!”

“Raine!”

“Wha-at?”

“It depends,” you mutter with a hidden smile on your face.

“On what?” she asks with wide eyes.

“….You.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“Oh!!! So it needs a stone! Right?”

“No.”

“Well, then how?!?!”

“It depends on your bond with her, of course. Your training will be complete when your Buneary evolves into a Lopunny.”

“How long will that take?!?! Years?”

“It just takes as long as it takes, and yes in some cases it is years.”

“Awww man!!!”

“Now Raine.”

“I know... I know…”

“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you! Since you work here now, if you wish to stay here I have more than enough room here and it would be cheaper and nicer than the academy dorm…”

“ARE YOU SERIOUS?!?! THIS IS SOOO COOL! IT’S LIKE THE BEST JOB EVER!!”

“Yelling!”

“Right! Sorry….”

‘Maybe this is a bad idea,’ you think while rubbing your head.

“So! When can I move in?”

“You can as early as tomorrow if you wish.”

“Sweet! No more cramp dorms, no more cold showers, no more smelly laundry that isn’t mine and especially no more Autumn!!”

“Well, in that case, we better get going if we are going to start packing,” says Brock getting up.

“Ok, how about we settle all the paperwork and such tomorrow?”

“That’s fine, thanks so much (Name).”

“Haha don’t mention it!”

You lead the three of them out and as you open the door the girl from the coffee shop is standing in the doorway posed to knock, full work attire stains and all.

“Oh hi! I know you said tomorrow but is it okay if…. YOU!!!! What are you doing here?!?!” she yells pointing at Raine.

“Autumn!!! I could ask you the same thing!” Raine yells back.

Standing between the two you look wide-eyed, back and forth, “Wait! You two know each other?” you ask in confusion.

“That’s right! She is one of my worst rivals!!” states Raine.

“Is that right…” you mutter to yourself a small smirk on your face.

“Oh! Oh! Don’t make me into the bad guy here! You’re the awful one!” Autumn defends.

At this, they both burst into a sporadic yelling contest. Apparently they are trying to see who can get the loudest.

“YELLING!!!” you yell out.

They both stop simultaneously and glance rather sheepishly over at you before muttering a small ‘sorry’ in reply.

“OK! Well, we need to go! Goodbye and thank you (Name)! It was a pleasure. See you tomorrow!” interrupts Brock while pushing a struggling Raine down the drive.

“Yeah see ya later (Name)! Don’t forget about our battle!” yells Ash running after the bickering pair.

“I am so sorry!” Exclaims Autumn with wide eyes.

“It’s ok,” you say with a gentle smile, “you couldn’t wait could you?”

“Haha nope, sure couldn’t.”

“Well, I’m impressed by your eagerness. Now if you don’t mind following me we can conduct your interview while I check on some of my Pokémon.”

“Yeah, of course!!”

The two of you make your way down toward the barn where you keep the Pokémon that you are breeding and training. Although it is mostly empty except for the select few you have chosen to get started. The building is indeed built like most barns with stalls for the larger Pokémon on the bottom and pins of various sizes on the upper floors. Of course, there is a floor dedicated to the eggs the Pokémon lay and a floor for the newly hatched Pokémon. You show her around a bit, and when you get to the ‘nursery’ you hear a shrill ringing.

“What on earth is that?!” Autumn yells while covering her ears.

“It’s a baby Chingling, she is far too curious for her own good. She keeps trying to find her way out of the pin.”

“Oh…”

“Hey, I’m going to calm these babies down, while I do that could you go get her out of whatever mess she’s gotten herself into?”

“Yeah sure, you can count on me!”

Autumn then runs off to help the curious Chingling. You watch her closely while she soothes her then gently pry her from the bars she has gotten herself stuck between. You walk up happy with your instincts on this girl. ‘She is going to do just fine,’ you think as she cradles the Chingling in her arms.

“So…. What are you going to name her?”

“I was thinking that Melody would be…wait… seriously?”

“Of course.”

“No way no way no way no way!! She squeals while jumping up and down holding the Chingling in her arms. “This is the best day ever! Did you hear that?!?! You’re my Pokémon!”

“Bbbrrriinnggg!” exclaims the happy Chingling.

You laugh along with Autumn as she celebrates her good fortune when all of a sudden you hear a different kind of ringing. Quickly you grab your cell phone from your pocket and check the I.D. It says it is professor Oak so you answer it.

“Hello, Professor.”

“Hey (Name)? This is Gary Oak, you know Professor Oak’s grandson, it’s been a while hasn’t it?” answers the ever-confident Gary Oak the one person you never wanted to talk to ever again.

“It sure has Gary,” you say the frigidness in your voice could freeze over the ocean and then some.

“Uhh… yeah, I was just calling to confirm that you are picking up your Pokémon tomorrow,” he says with discomfort creeping into his voice.

“I sure am.”

“Well if you want I could give you-“

“That won’t be necessary; I have plenty of help, but thank you for the offer. Good-bye now,” you then hang up.

“You know Gary Oak?!?!”

“We grew up together.”

“It sounds like you don’t like him very much.”

“Then you hear right.”

“Sooo…. Who’s helping you tomorrow?”

“Why you and Raine of course, after you get settled in that is.”

“What do you mean settled in?”

“Oh, I didn’t tell you? The second floor of the house is used as quarters for my employees, and since you are one of my employees you get a room if you want. Unfortunately, you’ll have to pay but it is a whole lot less than those horrible dorms and much nicer too.”

“Can this get any more awesome?!?!”

“Maybe?”

“Oh, I can’t wait for tomorrow! This is going to be so cool! Oh, and speaking of dorms! I have to get back to mine or I’m going to get in trouble! Thanks so much (Name)! See you tomorrow!”

“Bye!” you call out waving to her as she scurries off down the stairs.

Jingle who has been floating nearby makes a noise of exhaustion.

“I hear ya Jingle… She is going to be a hand full but this is why she got your baby….”

Jingle makes a noise of agreement and follows you out the door, knowing that tomorrow is going to be a long one for you, so she sings you a soothing song.

[raleighliving]

Pros and Cons of College Life in Raleigh

Last time I wrote about colleges in Raleigh generally and how it’s not like other college towns. This time, I’m gonna be speaking a bit more about the pros and cons so it should be a little more specific.

Before that, however, I wanna make this clear: Raleigh is not somewhere you should move to for college unless the school you’ve applied to is your dream school.  

In terms of academics, there are better choices than NC State or WPU. If you wanna study biology or medicine, schools like UNC-W or Duke would probably be a better fit for instance. If you live in Raleigh, don’t pick a school just because it’s close; if you live in another part of the states and you want to attend an east coast school there are options all along the east coast that you should consider.  

Raleigh is a great place to live and work, and there are plenty of friendly people here; but a degree from the right university can make or break your career (depending on the field and other aspects of course).

As a person suffering from anxiety, the question “Do you want the good news or bad news first” has always been a terrible one for me. Up until I hear the bad news, it could be literally anything regardless of what the person asking was doing or how much of the task they were on I’m familiar with.

Similarly, living in Raleigh (or really anywhere for that matter) is going to present a lot of subjective pros and cons. Please keep in mind this is gonna be super subjective, but I hope you enjoy reading this even if we disagree.

But you didn’t come here to read three paragraphs of disclaimer. So lets start by listing the good stuff.  

Raleigh is a city full of vibrant color, culture, and cool shit. You can find cool things almost anywhere you look, regardless of where you are in Raleigh. I mean, all of the pictures (including those in this article) I use for this blog I’ve taken in Raleigh or nearby it. As a result, the first pro has got to be the beltline highway system.  

The beltline is a highway system composed of I-440, I-40, and parts of I-540 that encapsulates all of Raleigh. It connects north and south Raleigh while having downtown in the center, letting travelers easily reach nearly any part of Raleigh. 

I’ve lived on the border of Durham, Cary, and Rolesville at different points in my life. I’ve had to make trips to Garner and Apex for various reasons. At no point in my 20+ year stay have I ever had to make a city trip that lasted longer than a half-hour (one way). It makes working in Raleigh especially easy, since the abundance of highway access points and the convenience of the loop design means I’m never too far from that loop. 

It even helps with adjusting to your new environment if you move here (for school or other reasons) since if you’re ever lost, the highways can act as a point to re-orient yourself by. I know I’ve had to do it plenty of times in the past, and it can really save you from looking like an idiot if you excuse your lost-ness by just saying “Oh yeah mate, I was just tryna get on the highway. Saves so much time.”

Does this mean Raleigh has the best transportation network of any city? Hell no. Does this mean that Raleigh has the best highway system? Not even close. But it’s still super nice, especially for students. You’ll run into the problems any urban place has like rush hour or crash delays, but this is mitigated by the fact you’ll be using it for our second pro: Everything happens in Raleigh. 

Well, not EVERYTHING everything but as I’ve ranted about before; there’s plenty to do and see in the city of Raleigh (even if you’re a student). 

For instance, according to raleighnc.gov, Raleigh is home to over 200 public parks. Not a fan of parks? Into more electronic entertainment? Then visit our very own “Arcade of Thrones” downtown and get your game on with your fellow nerds

Boring stuff like restaurants and night clubs aside, Raleigh is home to literally thousands of businesses and social clubs for you to partake in. Farmers markets, gun and knife shows, fishin’ holes and public church barbecues are available for that classic southern charm; but don’t forget to make use of our barcades, art festivals, concerts, comedy clubs and sport centers. 

The only reason why I’m not going into more detail about examples like First Friday, the downtown cultural festivals, PNC arena or other more specific events is because I want to write about them in-depth in the future.  

Of course, students having things to do and places to go is only part of the college experience. If you’re gonna come to Raleigh for college, the best pro I could possibly mention is the support network.  

Not to say that we’re exactly all one big happy family here, but in Raleigh you get that nice blend of metropolitan city life with your rural state. Orgs like the LGBT Center, Goodwill, Raleigh Missions, and more support locals in need constantly and provide for the many different groups around here.

Libraries and civic centers share the same city as mosques and churches which neighbor women's shelters and LGBT+ advocacy groups. If you’re a republican or democrat, that’s fine but be prepared to meet the other members of the political spectrum since groups like the Democratic-Socialists of America (DSA) are active downtown as well.

If you need help or want to help others, there’s a 98% chance that you’ll find someone or something out there that meets your needs. Join a community through Facebook or Nextdoor and you’ll see every diaper drive, garage sale, and community recommendation pop up whenever one is needed.

Of course, this brings us to our first con. Raleigh may be home to some of the nicest people I’ve ever met but it doesn’t mean you won’t run into some problem people sooner or later.  

There’s of course the typical collegiate douchebags, the upper-middle class young scions of no import who fumble through life with no regard for others because mommy and daddy will perpetually care for them, but being a red state you’ll also run into the more colorful republicans.

Every year there’s an anime convention called “Animazement” downtown and every year there’s a small herd of fundamentalist Christians warning all the otaku who’ll listen that they’re going to hell. Drive around town long enough and you’ll find a few different businesses that have made their opinions on things like masks and social distancing clear, not to mention there’s no shortage of QAnoners and alt-right sympathists. 

Of course, you shouldn’t let others dictate the quality of your life or the area you live in but you should be aware that these people exist. Raleigh is more liberal than other parts of North Carolina for sure but it’s not the leftist paradise those other parts would say it is.

Other than the coinflip that is neighbors, Raleigh is kind of a pricy place to live. The cost of living is on average higher than other cities in the US, cheaper still than New York of Californian cities, but pricey nonetheless.

Rent in Raleigh for a one bedroom apartment is on average $975 according to bestplaces.net and can go as high as $1200 depending on the complex and location. 

That, with a federal minimum wage of $7.25 an hour, means you’ll need 

>Multiple jobs >Multiple roommates >A good paying job

or any combination of the two to be able to afford rent, utilities, and food beyond cup ramen. There’s housing programs like Section 8 and military housing initiatives to help, but for students you’re looking at some pretty steep housing costs for anywhere that’s not student dorms. 

You can get a good job that pays decent, of course, nothing’s impossible. However, finding one that won’t require roommates would demand full time hours (which might be difficult to make on student scheduling) or a degree (which you’re probably at college to get). Most living spaces require you make at least 3x the advertised rent to even be considered as well, which may limit students to seedier student living complexes like University Village or The Proper (Formerly Vie, formerly wolf creek).

Finally, if you move to Raleigh for college be prepared to drive. A lot.

As I mentioned earlier, the beltline is a god send for students and people looking to explore; but it’s also practically mandatory for moving around Raleigh. Public transit in Raleigh isn’t non-existent but it’s pretty damn close.  

Live between 10-15 minutes from your desired destination? Taking the bus is gonna be anywhere from half an hour to a full hour, and that’s if you even live near a bus route. If you’re like myself and habitually on the edge of Raleigh, be prepared to drive for a bit before you even see a GoRaleigh bus let alone a stop. 

The buses do at least run pretty late (Closing normally around 11PM), but the lack of public transit lines and bike-able roads means that you’ll be adding to the urban congestion more likely than not.

Okay with driving? Hope you’re okay with paying another arm and a leg, because at most schools down here tuition doesn’t cover your parking pass. 

NC State prices range from $105 to over $400 depending on your credit hours and where you’re staying at. Other schools like William Peace only charge a flat $130 for their parking decal, but most of the schools require you throw them an extra Apple Pencil or two for the privilege of being able to park your own vehicle close to the actual campus.

There are workarounds, like parking off-campus nearby, but those carry risks and penalties that can add up over time. The audacity these schools have to take thousands in tuition and then demand that you pay and additional fee to just use the parking lot.

Hopefully, though, regardless of my thoughts if you live in Raleigh or North Carolina in general and you’re considering attending one of the fine establishments here; I’ve provided you some food for thought. 

College can be a scary experience for many, and the area around it can really make or break your experiences. We don’t have the biggest party schools or the most glamorous cityscape; but if I had to go through the collegiate system again I honestly couldn’t imagine doing it anywhere else.

Next time I’ll be talking about some alternatives to College though, so stay tuned for that.  

Special shout out to the DSA of Raleigh as well. They didn’t help write any of this or communicate with me during the production of this article, but they’ve been doing some amazing work downtown with the homeless during the pandemic.  They are some of the most amazingly hard working individuals who care immensely for the community and you can check them out on dsanc.org.

[2chic2curvy4u]

Self Worth (Chapter One)

Melanie stared in the mirror, really just staring at herself. She didn’t know what she was staring for, she had woken up for the day, showered, and gotten dressed for her day. She wasn’t ready to start the day but since she left home she usually finds herself staring at herself in the mirror critique herself. How her arms were bigger than skinner girls, how her stomach was bigger than skinner girls, how her thighs touched so close together. She hated it all but she brushed it off and grabbed her keys and purse, and rushed out of the door.

She had 2 classes on Wednesday. Math, and science. She hated them both but she was passing which was good enough for her. Her mind drifted in math, she thought about a lot, like how she had work later on today and how she needed to clean her room but as she drifted in thought it was interrupted by the door to the lecture hall opened and it was just some guy brushing in late. She looked up at her professor’s board and saw how further in the lesson she missed. She was cursing at herself for not paying attention but she copied the notes down as fast as she could when her phone buzzed.

Ki: Lemme borrow $10

Her best friend, Kianna, hit her up for some money like she wasn’t broke as well.

Mel: Bitch, I’m broker than a joke rn

Ki: Booooo you’re no fun you whore

She slid her AirPods out of her bag and turned on some music to listen to but she was stopped by a hand tapping on her arm. It was the guy who brushed in late.

“Do you have a pencil I can borrow?” He asked and she nodded digging around in her bad to find one of her many led pencils her father bought her for when school started. She was a sophomore in college but her father still bought her school supplies. She handed him a pencil and he thanked her.

-

Before she knew it, the class was ending. She gathered her things and headed for the door. She hated the fact that she was going to miss out on a beautiful day like this one but she was busy with school, work, and her junky dorm room. She was bummed but she was happy she had a moment to see her friends for lunch. She was walking to Larry’s, a restaurant that catered to all the college students on the campus. It was good, better than the caf’s food. She opened the door looking for her friends who texted her saying they already got a table for them to sit at. She looked around and found sitting in the corner, on the left side. All her friends, Kianna, Naomi, Lauren, and Taylor decided to make an appearance today.

“Please tell me why Professor Johnson wants to get his ass beat? Like, I do my work, maybe it’s not on time but that’s not the point!” Naomi ranted about her low grade in one of her easier classes.

“You don’t put much into the class anyway Ny, how do you expect such a high grade?” Taylor grabbed a fry and chomped down on it.

“Hey, sorry I’m late.” Melanie sat down in one of the chairs and put her bag down beside her. They all greeted her back and carried on in their conversation.

“Well, I’m glad we are all here! I wanted to talk about homecoming!” Lauren introduced the topic of homecoming.

“Yes, I’m skipping class all week for homecoming!” Kianna was the carefree girl of the group. She lived like there was no tomorrow and she wasn’t going to stop.

“Well, of course, you are Ki! I mean, I would personally be concerned if you didn’t” Melanie laughed and the rest of the girls joined her. If they knew one thing Kianna wasn’t coming to class at all that whole week.

“No, I mean I’m running for Miss Sophomore this year and I want my friends to help!” Lauren had been saying since the beginning of the year how she was winning the crown of Miss Sophomore year like her mother and her mother’s mother before she did. She won Miss Freshman and it’s only fitting for her to win Miss Sophomore.

“Yeah.”

“Yes, of course”

“How could we say no?”

They all happily agreed to help her out for the running.

“Good cause I couldn’t do this without you!” Lauren sighed but Melanie knew she could because compared to Mel. Lauren was perfect, she had hazel eyes, a flat tummy, a bright smile, thick in all the right places, dimples that went deep, and flawless almond-colored skin. She was everything Mel wanted to be.

Mel made herself feel a little bad but she ignored it and went back to her conversation with her friends.

__________________

To help pay for school, Mel took up being a tutor for some subjects, it was university-led, so it counted as a work-study program which in turn helped her with tuition. She was grateful for the opportunity but some days she just wanted to go home and sleep after classes especially after science and math. But she was her like clockwork, helping anyone who needed help with English and History like she signed up for. She did her homework herself or read a book or simply scrolled through social media.

Every so often, someone came and asked for help but she wasn’t as busy as she thought she would be but that gave her time to read her book, ‘Between the World and Me’ by Ta-Nehisi Coates again. She loved this book and she couldn’t get enough of it. She loved how Coates, spoke to his son, it made her hopeful for her, unborn, son one day.

“Hey, I was told you could help me with this exam I got coming up?” A voice startled her, almost knocking her reading glasses off but she caught them. She saw the same guy who asked her for a pencil this morning and she nodded and put her book down and took her glasses off.

“Uhm, yes. Yes, is it for History or English?” She asked getting in a position to help him, she got her pencil out just in case she needed to write something down.

“It’s for Political Science.” She hardly got Poli Sci questions but when she did her brain came alive at the subject and couldn’t help but get excited about the subject.

“Oh, well, Is there a study guide for the exam?” He pulled his computer up and clicked around to pull up a word document of questions and keywords about the US government.

“Ok. I can work with this.”

She helped and explained all the inner workings of the US government, she could tell he was half paying attention but she was just enjoying her own explanation. He nodded along and asked questions here and there. She helped him make a detailed study sheet for his exam coming up. She quite proud of her work and if she was taking the exam she would feel 1000% sure of getting an A on that exam.

He thanked her and left, and she returned to the open letter by Coates.

[ateamare]

An Open Letter to Corporate America

Dear Leadership in Corporate America,

I find it strikingly discriminatory that the standard internship opportunity is unpaid. Not only is this blatantly classist but it is also flat out racist; not providing pay for internships puts a barrier up for underprivileged students, who are typically people of color. Someone’s socioeconomic status should not hinder them from having reasonable access to a professional career that they are well qualified for. Marginalized students often work hard and dedicate their time and effort into getting the best grades they can to “make it” in this world, yet they are often denied the opportunity because they cannot get the job they worked so hard to be qualified for. They cannot get the job because of their upbringing. They cannot get the job because they had to work while attending school just to get by. They cannot get the job because they had to work full-time to help their families. They cannot get the job because it is unpaid. They cannot get the job because of YOU.

I have a question: Do you know what privilege is? I’m sure you’re “well versed” on the term but let me break it down for you anyway. Privilege is affording opportunities to people while denying them to others. It is not looking at things from an outsider’s perspective because the outcome simply does not affect you. It is ignoring the fact that people of all backgrounds are deserving of equal opportunities. By not offering paid internships, you are inevitably hurting yourselves; not only are you enforcing a lack of diversity in the workplace, but you are also missing out on the chance to bring in hardworking, well qualified students that could further enrich your company. By not offering paid internships, you are allowing the systemic oppression that has plagued America for so long to continue in this world. You are allowing hundreds of applicants to walk out the door before even stepping in; many students take one look at an application and read the word “unpaid” and wistfully click out of the tab. They move on to the next hundred applications, sifting through application after application, in hopes of finding the one that does not contain that six-letter slap in the face.  

Before you come after me with your #AllLivesMatter points, I am not saying that there aren’t underprivileged white people in America, nor am I saying that privileged people aren’t just as deserving. I am stating the fact that underprivileged students, who typically come from marginalized communities, deserve the chance at an equal opportunity. They deserve to be seen and by not offering compensation for internships, these students are invisible to you. Their resumes and applications go unseen because the student does not apply, because they do not have access to reliable transportation or housing, or because the job requires full-time commitment which denies them of the opportunity of getting a part-time job. Let us dive into a stock example of what it truly means to deny marginalized people equal opportunities, maybe then you’ll take a deeper look at yourselves and what you are doing to so many students across America.

Setting. Analise Lopez and Alexis Smith are at a Career Fair at their University. They run into each other at a table for a well-known Public Relations Firm in Downtown Dallas. They are acquaintances but have only spoken to each other in a social setting. Analise Lopez is a Chicana student from a lower middle-class background who attends the University on scholarship, her father is not in the picture and her mother works 50+ hours a week as a healthcare worker. She has dreamed of this opportunity since she decided to major in Public Relations. Alexis Smith is a white student from an upper-class background whose parents currently pay for her tuition and expenses, her father works for an accredited law firm and her mother is a homemaker. She wants to work for a Public Relations Firm to be in the city and get away from her hometown. Both women really want to work for the PR Firm and have the qualifications needed to apply. Analise is a 4.0 student with work experience who has created her own mock website to present to the firm and Alexis is a 3.0 student without work experience who has not put thought into the interview because of her close relationship to the firm.

Alexis: Oh my goodness, it’s so nice to run into a familiar face! Are you applying for the internship here too? I think the open interviews are next Monday!

Analise: Hey girl! I am, I’ve been wanting to apply for a while so I’m so excited they have a table here!

Alexis: Right! My dad is close friends with the CFO so I’m sure he worked some magic to get them here. I’ve literally wanted to work for John for forever so I cannot wait. He’s such a cool guy! Ugh, and I just can’t wait to live in the city! Are you planning on getting a place in downtown if you get the job?

Analise: I don’t know about downtown but I’ll probably try to live as close to the city as possible. Getting to use the DART is going to be so convenient with it being a full-time internship. But it honestly depends on how much they pay though… [flips flyer over] I don’t see that anywhere on the flyer.

Alexis: Oh! It’s actually unpaid. I thought you knew? I’m sure you can find a place close by though, girl! There are SO many cute apartments in the city. Plus, you can always ask your parents to help. I talked my dad into getting Jen and I an apartment super close to the office so maybe your parents will too! [overly excited] OMG! And we could meet for happy hours! That would be so much fun!

Analise: [stunned and embarrassed at not knowing the internship was unpaid] Oh. Yeah, that would be so fun…I’ve got to go change for work. I’ll see you later, okay?

Alexis: Okay, girl! See you at the interview!

[Analise throws the flyer in the trashcan as she exits the building]

Although this is clearly a stock story, it depicts the very real experience of so many students at universities across America. Analise is a well-qualified student whose resume could have possibly exceeded many other applicants’ yet because the internship was unpaid, she didn’t even bother applying. She knew that an unpaid 40-hour work week was not an option for her, though she tried playing several scenarios in her head of making it work. Had she gotten the job, she would have had to get a part time job nearby to afford housing, she would have also had to find an apartment and job that were close to the DART station since she didn’t have her own means of transportation and her family’s home was 45 minutes away from the city, so commuting was out of the question. Unfortunately, it was not an option for her.

As a marginalized woman myself, this hits far too close to home. I have looked into working for so many of my “dream companies” only to find that their internship opportunities were unpaid. When a person experiences things such as these over and over again, there comes a point in which they become desensitized to the experience, no longer seeing it as something that has the capacity to change but as something that is customary and inevitable. Students should not have to settle for their fourth or seventeenth options because of this; there needs to be a paradigm shift across corporate America and it needs to happen yesterday. As a marginalized person, I am tired of the discrimination and lack of diversity in corporate America; people from all backgrounds need equal access to the career of their choosing. So seriously, pay your interns.

Sincerely,

A Very Tired (Almost) Intern

Works Cited

1. “About Us.” Payourinterns.org, payourinterns.org/.

2. Delgado, Richard. “Storytelling for Oppositionists and Others: A Plea for Narrative.” Michigan Law Review, vol. 87, no. 8, 1989, pp. 2411–2441.

3. Cook, Daniella Ann. "Blurring the boundaries: The mechanics of creating composite characters." Handbook of critical race theory in education. Routledge, 2013. 201-214.

[heyyyharry]

Father’s Day

(from ‘Couple in Flat 102’)

…in which Y/N finally meets Harry’s dad, who comes with another surprise.

I AM BACK WITH THE COUPLE WE LOVE! Sorry for the drought, I hope you’ll enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!

wattpad link

.

When Harry broke the news to his fiancé, she was sitting in the bathtub with music blasting from the phone she put on the marble sink. He was actually surprised she still brought her phone with her into the bathroom after having dropped it in the tub twice or so. But that wasn't a problem compared to what he wanted to say.

"Honey!" He turned the music off, trying to catch his breath and leaving her startled. "We're going to meet my dad tomorrow."

Without waiting for a response, he quickly walked over to sit on the edge of the tub, intense green eyes staring into hers as he held her face between his two hands.

"I'm so sorry, love."

"Sorry? Why?" She grabbed his wrists, raising an eyebrow. "That's actually great! It's Father's day tomorrow right? I was gonna ask you if—"

"Idon'tthinkyou'regonnalikemydad!"

"What?"

"I—" He shut his eyes, releasing the heaviest sigh she'd ever heard. "I don't...think you're gonna like my dad."

There was a reason Harry rarely talked about his father. Devlin Styles had always been talked about. The man had a big reputation in the business industry; therefore Harry had to lie too many times at job interviews that they weren't father and son. Devlin owned a corporation based in San Francisco, married again to another rich woman and they had two young daughters whom Harry had never seen since his high school graduation. The last time he had met the man in person was a few days before he graduated from university. But he had never told Y/N about it because he thought it wasn't important anyway.

Harry grew up with his mum so it was obvious that he loved Anne way much more. But that didn't mean he hated Devlin for never sticking around. He knew his old man lived too far away and was always too busy to pay them a visit. But Devlin still called to talk to his children whenever he got time. He'd paid most of Harry's tuition fees during his academic years and taught Harry everything he needed to know in order to succeed in the business world. So the young man always had high respect for his father. The only problem was that Devlin had never been a soft dad. No, his love was the toughest kind of fatherly love Harry had ever seen. He assumed his old man had run a corporation for too long so he treated his children no different from his favorite employees. But Devlin Styles had always been known for being one of the most hard-to-please bosses.

When Harry told Devlin he was dating Y/N, the father wasn't impressed by her background but he didn't say anything about it. He had assumed the kids were young and wouldn't last more than a couple months. But those couple months had soon turned to years, and now they were already engaged. Harry was scared shitless when he video called his dad to break the news of his engagement. He was afraid Devlin would disapprove. Strangely however, the man didn't even try to talk his son out of it. Instead he happily invited them both out of lunch when he arrived in London on Father's Day.

"No, H, this is good! mean, your dad finally asked to see me. That's a big step."

Y/N seemed too excited, which wasn't a good thing, because the more thrilled she was to see his father, the more disappointed she would get.

"He's the best salesman I've ever known, love. He's a great liar. You'll never know what he's actually thinking."

The girl chuckled at her future husband, thinking he was overthinking. "He's still your dad."

"Yeah, so I know him better than you." Harry sighed as he popped the soap bubble on her bare shoulder. "I don't want him to scare you. You might not even want to marry me after meeting him."

"I'm marrying you not your dad." Y/N rolled her eyes, kissing the dry patch on the back of his hand before bringing it back to her cheek. "And if we're gonna be husband and wife I'm gonna have to face him eventually, even if he hates me. But don't worry. I'm good at making people love me."

Harry couldn't argue with that. She was very lovable and he didn't say it because she was going to be his wife. She had made someone like him and her grumpy boss Jack fall head over heels for her. Maybe she could make it on his father's good list. He really hoped his optimism didn't fail him this time.

"Okay.." He nodded. "I'll confirm with his assistant than."

That reply made the girl laugh.

"I'm serious," he said with a straight face, which killed off her beam instantly. "I have to email her and everything."

"Oh..." She swallowed hard and that reaction made him chuckle.

Kissing her on the lips, Harry marched to the bathroom door where he paused and turned to ask her one last time if she still wanted to go. The answer he received was still a solid yes. With a smile, he thought, how could anyone not love this woman?

.

.

.

Y/N knew Harry from inside out, more than she knew herself sometimes. She could tell when something was bothering him even though he didn't want to admit that it was. So no matter how much he tried to cover up the fact that he was nervous to meet his own father, he still couldn't hide it from her. They arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early because Harry had said his father hated tardy people. It felt more like a business meeting than a family one, but Y/N didn't want to put more pressure on Harry by telling him so.

The waiter returned with a menu, and Harry ordered two glasses of house white while they waited for the other Styles. From her seat Y/N had a view of the entrance, only a few families came and left. After all, it was Father's Day. She shifted in her seat, checking her watch before applying another coat to her already pink lips. With nothing else to do she paid attention to the ambient music for a few moments, guessing the words of the song she'd never heard before. Harry kept perusing the menu, probably to hide the fact that he kept fidgeting with the napkin to calm his own nerves. So Y/N thought she should find something to distract him.

"Hey, baby."

She squeezed his hand, giving him a smile and nodded her head towards a table nearby where sat a happy family of four. The husband over there was listening to his wife telling him about something seemingly exciting. It might be a story about a vacation they had always dreamed of, or just her finally finding the motivation to take up cooking classes again; whatever it was, you could see in the look of his eyes that he was besotted with his woman. Their two children were the most beautiful babies Y/N had ever seen, both were just laughing while toying with the vegetables on their plates instead of trying to disturb their parents from their ongoing conversation.

"That's gonna be us in a couple of years," Y/N said to Harry, resulting in a smile on his handsome face. He leaned in to kiss her cheek and told her their babies were gonna be more beautiful. Shifting his eyes a bit to the left, Harry had his sight fixed on a table in the far corner as he pointed out for her to see.

"That's gonna be Layla and Niall," he said, holding back a chuckle.

Y/N nearly choked on her water when she saw the family her fiancé was referring to. The wife was nagging the husband probably for something he'd done to make their baby cry. The poor man was still trying to calm the little one, and admittedly she could imagine Niall in his position.

"But don't tell Layla." Harry laughed. "She's gonna strangle me."

The engaged couple tried to compress their laughter, like two young kids at the back of the class finding something funny but not wanting to draw to much attention to them. But the lighthearted moment didn't last for too long. Soon after that, Devlin Styles arrived.

The man was dressed in a dark blue suit and a silk tie, like he was on his way to see a client and not just there for lunch with his son and daughter-in-law. With a phone in hand, he followed a waiter towards their table, dimples indented on his face as he finally spotted Harry. Y/N had seen photos of him before, had Harry not shown them to her, she still could have googled the name and got tons of results. For a man nearly fifty-five, he couldn't have looked better in real life, exactly how Y/N had imagined Harry would look like when he grew old. Unlike her own father, Devlin was in such a good shape. Neither the grey strands nor the wrinkles could hide the fact that the man was good-looking. His green eyes shone like two emeralds as well, but she failed to see the softness in them like she did in Harry's.

"Harry, kid. Long time no see! How are you?"

"I'm great, dad. How are you?"

Y/N observed when her future husband got up to hug his dad. The hug was rather awkward, it wasn't one you would give someone in the family, it was more hugging for the sake of it. But Y/N chose not to say a word about that as she put on a smile and introduced herself while shaking his hand.

"So nice to finally meet you, Miss. Y/L/N."

"You can call me Y/N."

There was an awkward pause as he stared at her like she'd just said something dumb. In those two seconds, she felt like she was just one word away from the end of the world. But Devlin quickly threw on another smile and asked both her and Harry to sit down, completely ignoring the previous thing she'd said.

"Let's order! I'm starving!" Harry broke the awkward silence as he reached for the menu, yet Devlin stopped him at once.

"Let's wait a bit more," the father said.

"Are we expecting someone else?" Harry asked, exchanging looks of confusion with Y/N.

Devlin didn't even have to answer that question. The second Harry had finished it, both him and his fiancé could pick out the pretty blonde in the spaghetti strap dress who followed another group of customers into the restaurant. Growing up seeing that face, how could Harry possibly forget?

"Ollie?!"

He could barely say that name without making it heavy with breath. Olivia stopped dead in her tracks when she saw that he and Y/N were also sitting at the table. Apparently, she didn't know that they were gonna be there, so Harry assumed his own father had something to do with it.

When Olivia said goodbye to him in Cheshire, he didn't expect that they would ever meet again. So the last thing he would've thought was for them to run into each other in a situation like this. But Olivia didn't come alone. It wasn't too long until she had joined them at the table that Thomas Hase, her father, showed up. This man had been Devlin's business partners for years, and Harry should've known better than to believe the purpose of that lunch was for his father to get to know Y/N. It was never that simple when it came to Devlin Styles. He didn't know what the man was up to, but he was definitely up to something; and Olivia, just like him, just like Y/N, was a piece in this chess game.

"What is happening, H? Why are they here?" Y/N whispered into his ear, her voice was frantic and he knew for sure she was freaking out. So he told her everything was fine and pulled her chair closer to his so he could wrap an arm around her to the other three's surprise. When he looked up and met the eyes of Olivia who gave him an apologetic grin, he smiled back. But the feeling wasn't like the last time he saw her. This time, it was like they were just strangers to each other.

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.

The lunch had a quite a good start as Devlin explained that since it was Father's Day and the Hases were out celebrating as well, he thought it might be fun to get together, for Harry and Olivia to meet again, and also for Harry to show off his new fiancé; but Harry knew only half of it was the truth. He didn't believe in coincidence when it came to his father. With Devlin, everything was a part of his plan, no matter how small.

The thing that Harry found most bizarre besides the fact that Olivia was there, was the fact that she was there with her father. Before saying her first goodbye to Harry and disappearing for years, Olivia had mentioned more than once that her parents hadn't been living together. Mr. and Mrs. Hase were still married at the time, but that poor woman had decided to just turn a blind eye to whoever her husband was sleeping with. So Harry had admired Olivia for how strong she'd been. Nobody knew a broken family better than her. He guessed that was why she'd become a bird who loved to fly from one place to another with fear of being tied down. She had also sworn to Harry that she would never forgive Thomas for abandoning her mother. So her choosing a long term job to work for the man she loathed just didn't make any sense.

As Harry was trying to figure out a way to ask Olivia about why she'd come back to England, the topic had been changed to Y/N's job. She was telling everyone at the table about what she was doing, with the same spark in her eyes whenever she talked about the things she loved. Harry could read the looks on the older men's faces to realize they still didn't take her seriously, and it drove him mad. If it wasn't his love that was talking, he would just interrupt to say something about it.

"Oh, you work with Coleman, right?" Devlin asked, squinting his eyes as if to recall meeting Jack Coleman before.

"Yes, sir."

"Great kid. Great visionary. I don't know why you're bothered to stay with Harry and not someone like that guy."

"Dad," Harry grumbled, clearly unamused, but his father only laughed.

"What? I'm telling the truth."

"Harry, your father is just teasing you," said Thomas as he patted his old friend on the back, pointing to Olivia who had been trying her best to stay out of the conversation. "I do that to Livy all the time and she always reacts the same as you."

"Remember when they were kids and used to have sleepovers every week," Devlin joined in. "You actually had to warn Anne to keep an eye on these naughty children so that they couldn't do the things they shouldn't."

"Dad!" Both Harry and Olivia shouted at the same time, causing people from the tables behind turn their heads in their direction.

"We're just reminiscing about the past, dear." The older Styles shook his head, pointing to his son and Olivia with the fork in his hand. "We actually thought you two would get married someday."

"But it's never gonna happen." It didn't take a genius to realize how annoyed Harry was this time. "I'm engaged and you're here to get to know Y/N, remember?"

"Fair." Devlin wiped his mouth and raised both eyebrows as he suggested, "so Miss Y/L/N should come with Thomas and I for a coffee later, you and Livy can catch up with each other alone."

Y/N opened her mouth to speak for herself, but Harry didn't want to wait for a reaction from his woman so he could stand up for her. He squeezed her shoulder and asserted, "we're not going anywhere without each other."

"A few years into marriage you're gonna regret saying that, kid."

That sentence was the final straw for both Harry and Y/N, yet he didn't get to say the last word. She stood up, shrugging away his hand and excusing herself from the table immediately.

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.

.

It wasn't until Y/N was alone, pondering in the hallway at the very back of the restaurant, that she finally started to feel terrible for walking away. She was pacing back in forth in guilt. It was reasonable for her to not want to stay at the table, since those two men were pushing her to her limits, but she wasn't there for them, she was there for Harry. And by leaving him sitting there like a fool, she had probably failed to be a good wife. So the second she saw his face as he walked through the doorway to look for her, she ran back to him and said they should both head back to their seats.

Harry didn't wait for her to finish. He grabbed her face, and without a pause, leaned down to kiss her warm lips. As they broke apart, taking shallow breaths, forehead against one another, he stroked her cheeks and told her, "let's go home."

"Go home?" She furrowed her brows. "We haven't finished lunch with your dad yet."

"But there's not only my dad, and he was being mean to you anyway," he said with a sigh. "I'm so sorry, love. I should never have asked you to come."

"It's fine. I—"

"Come on." Once again, he interrupted her with another kiss. Smiling, he said, "we can get ice cream on our way home, yeah?"

"Okay..." She nodded, grinning from ear to ear. The couple held hands and were about to walk back inside, but the second they turned around, his father was already standing at the entrance. There were just the three of them in that narrow hallway and a few restaurant staff walking back and forth. Devlin Styles clearly wasn't happy with how the lunch had turned out. He stood there, hands in his pockets, and let the silence remain for a couple seconds more before he told Harry they needed to talk.

"Sorry, dad. We gotta go."

"Five minutes." Devlin raised his right palm. Harry was about to say something else, not wanting to have a private conversation, but it was Y/N who persuaded him to.

"Go talk to your father." She tugged on his arm and kissed his cheek. "It's fine. I can wait five minutes."

"Okay," he finally said as he turned back to her, holding her shoulders. "Go and wait for me outside. Five minutes and we'll go."

She gave him a smile and a simple nod, then said goodbye to his father before walking away. But all she received from the man was an indifferent glance and utter silence. His green eyes were still stone-cold.

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.

.

"Hey," Olivia said with a beam when Y/N returned to the table and saw only her sitting there. The blonde said that her father had just received a work call and left without telling her why. She didn't want everyone to return to an empty table so she stayed for a bit more.

"Trouble with Devlin?" She asked as Y/N took her seat and gulped her champagne all at once.

"He hates me," she said, hearing a slight laugh from Olivia.

"He doesn't hate you."

"You probably can't see it because he likes you."

"Oh, trust me, honey. He doesn't," the blonde scoffed, eyes widened as she reached for the bottle in the middle of the table and poured herself another full glass. "He doesn't like my dad either."

"Then why—"

"He wants to acquire my family's business, and my dad's considering selling it to my cousin, because he only wants to sell it to my family."

"So Devlin wants Harry to become your family..."

"Guess so." Olivia rolled her eyes and picked up her half-emptied glass, a smirk spread across her well-defined face. "I was told it was gonna be a father-daughter lunch so I was just as shocked as you were."

"Why are you—"

"Working for my dad?" The blonde chuckled. "Well, I got into some trouble in Taiwan and I had no other choice but to call him for help. He only agreed if I returned the favor by coming back to England to work  for him. So here I am. Though my boss is kind of an asshole, it's not really a bad job and I need the money anyway." Then she sighed and drank the rest of what she'd got left, pointing a finger to Y/N. "Consider yourself lucky," she said.

"Why?" Y/N chuckled, completely bemused.

"Because you're free to do whatever you want, got a future husband who would do anything for you." Olivia gave her a shrug, twitching her mouth. "I mean, not everyone will give up an entire empire for the one he loves."

"Wait, what?" Y/N's eyes went round in reaction to the words she'd just heard.

"You mean you didn't know?" Olivia scrunched up her face. "Harry was meant to take over Devlin's company. That's why he went to business school in the first place. But he turned down the offer right before graduation because of you. If he'd taken the job, he would've had to move to San Francisco, but he chose you. Devlin and him got into a very big fight about it and hadn't spoken again until he announced the engagement."

Then she took a once-over at the girl who was too startled to speak. "Trust me," she assured. "My dad has ears everywhere."

.

.

.

"Don't walk away from me, Harry." Those words managed to keep Harry standing still, but it didn't change his decision to walk away from the conversation. He was already devastated to find out the true purpose of their meeting today, and he couldn't bare listening to another one of his father's mean words about the girl he chose to marry.

"I have nothing else to say to you," he swung his arms, laughing wryly. "I've respected you my whole life, and you just cannot do the same to me, nor to the woman I love." He paused to suck in a breath, hands in his pockets as he carried on, "I was so happy to finally have your approval but it turns out I'm only a part of your fucked up plan for a business acquisition?! Are you even my father?"

"You think I'm doing this for me? I'm doing this for you as well, you're being blind." Devlin was starting to lose his patience. "If you marry Olivia, you get to be a CEO of your old man's enterprise and have the Hases in the palm of your hand. Love is stupid anyway. It won't matter in couple years, kid."

"Yeah." Harry nodded fast, exhaling as he said, "you told me that when I was a kid. I remember. I grew up thinking it was true, that love was stupid and family was the only important thing. But everything's changed. I'm twenty four years old and I'm marrying my best friend, whom I love. She matters to me, more than anything in the world, right now more than you. I would die for her without a second thought." Harry heaved a sigh as his expression hardened. "But you were right about one thing, family is important. That's why I'm sorry, but I cannot choose money over my family."

Devlin was at a loss for words as he stood there with both hands on his hips, gawking at the boy he'd raised. It took him a moment to finally speak.

"I didn't put you into a business school so you could be this short-sighted."

"Then let me be." Harry shrugged. "It's my life, I don't care what you think. Are you gonna fire me from being your son?"

"I wish I could." When those four words were spoken, both men knew their relationship would never be the same.

"I'm gonna get back to my wife. Goodbye and...Happy Father's Day, dad," Harry said at last, eyes on his feet as he walked back to the doorway, there he paused and turned around one last time. "Don't worry," he said. "You're not invited to our wedding anymore."

.

.

.

Harry headed back to the table where he found Y/N chatting with Olivia. Right now, the other girl was the least of his concern, he didn't even say a single word to her as he took his lover's hand and told her they could now go home. He was in a hurry to leave so he didn't really paid attention to her facial expression, but he noticed she was awfully quiet.

It wasn't until they had both got into his car and he was about to start the engine, that she decided to break the silence.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were supposed to take over your dad's company?"

Her question left him speechless for a second. Then he quickly realized Olivia might have told her something when he wasn't there.

"I didn't think it was important," he replied shortly. "I turned it down anyway."

"Because of me?"

"No, because of me. I wanted to stay in London with you."

"You could've had it all Harry."

Her strange attitude really got on his nerves. He didn't get into a big fight with his father to come out and hear her say the same things. Sadness clouded his features as he turned to her and asked, "are you implying that I should leave you and be with Olivia? Is that what you want? For me to live the life my dad wants me to?"

The girl's expression dulled as she swallowed and slowly shook her head no, eyes on her lap instead of him.

"Then why are we talking about this, Y/N?"

"Because I don't want you to throw away such opportunity for me," she finally admitted. "What if...What if our future isn't what we expect? What if we turn into those fighting parents instead? I don't want you to look back a few years later and regret choosing me over a great career. You wouldn't have to drive a car that breaks down every once in a while. You could have a big house and you wouldn't even have to take care of your own pets."

"First off, I love my car and I love taking care of Treasure, but most importantly, I love you." He cupped her face with one hand so she would look at him. "I don't need anything to be different. I can still have a great career without my dad. One day I'm gonna get you your own car with my own money."

"I can't drive." 

The sound of her giggle eased his mind because he hated when they fought even if it was for just a minute or even less. "And a personal driver," he corrected himself, earning another big smile from her. "Don't ever doubt my feelings for you, okay? No matter how much I tell you I love you—"

"—you always love me more than that," she finished his sentence before leaning in and kissing him full on the mouth.

"Good girl." He pinched her cheek, eyes sparked with joy.

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.

.

There was a surprise waiting for him back home. As soon as they arrived at their flat, she made him wait on the couch and hurried into the kitchen, telling him to sit there with his eyes shut tight and no peeking. Anticipation was killing Harry but he did as he was told and waited for her to come back and tell him that he could now take a look.

"Ta-da!" She shouted out, holding up a chocolate cake before his eyes and their cat Treasure was in her lap, meowing at him. "Happy Father's Day!"

He looked at her funny, so she said, "you're Treasure's father, and the future father of my babies so it's also your day."

"Wow." He was stunned, but at the same time feeling ecstatic. He kissed her on the cheek and mumbled a tender "thank you" as he was still a little bit shy, yet as he assumed that was it for her surprise, she put the cake down on the coffee table and admitted that there was more.

"It's already June," she began while fidgeting. "And if it wasn't for my brother we might have been married by now. But Darren has been recovering fast and he's gonna leave the hospital next week. His divorce with Emily is pretty much settled, they're meeting their lawyer at the end of the month to finish it at once."

Harry plastered a smile on his face as he heard her. "So you're saying..."

"Yes." Her smile grew. "Let's get married!"

"Now?"

The way his mouth fell open had her dying of laughter.

"Next week," she finally said. "Is it okay?"

"Y-Yeah. It's definitely okay. It's great. Perfect!" He nodded so fast he thought his head was about to fall off. Holding her by the hips, he dragged her and their cat to his lap and started showering her face with dainty kisses. Her giggles rang through his ears making his heart flutter. "I know I said I could wait and all but it's been torturing."

"Soon, husband." Her eyebrow rose, leaving a Cheshire Cat grin on his gorgeous face that she loved. But it only took a couple seconds for her smile to slip as she said to him, "I'm sorry your father's not gonna be at our wedding."

"It's okay." He sighed, still the beam remained. "Let's not think about that and be happy for us, yeah?"

She snorted, looking down at Treasure while petting her. "You know, when we first started dating I thought if one of parents wasn't gonna be at our wedding it would be my mum."

"When we first started dating?! Woman, you've been fantasizing about making me your husband since day one?"

Y/N cracked a smile, brushing the strand that tumbled in front of his face out of the way so she could kiss his forehead. "Believe it or not, I've known that you're my person since day one."

Hearing just that made his heart full.

"Believe it or not," he said after a moment of silence, staring into her eyes. "So have I."

[smokeybrand]

The Rising Tide Raises All Ships

I don't understand people who are so ardently against social systems. Like, it's pulling eye-teeth just to have what little we do. I can't tell you how many f*cking time some MAGA cultist attacks food stamps or welfare like it's the worst thing ever but it's like, the ones who abuse it like you say, look like you. They don't look like me. There's always bad actors in any system, but if the majority carries on the way they should, then that system should function regardless. We know it can because it's being executed in real time, all over the world. There's a reason why the happiest places on earth, have the most expansive social welfare systems. Its fine to drive capitalism, no one's telling you not to work hard, but if we expanded those processes, everyone benefits. If everyone contributes a little more to the pool, all of our boats rise with the tide. I mean, seriously, if 2020 has taught us anything, it's that the systems we have in pace right now, don't work. They are easily exploited, easily manipulated, and completely counter intuitive to living life. There is a literal f*cking plague going on and our president is forcing people back to work and kids back to class because the economy. If that don't scream broke and needs fixing, I don't what does.

Free Healthcare means no worries going to the doctor. Paper cut, baby delivery, broken bone, or f*cking cancer, there'd be no stressing over how to pay those ridiculous bills. They wouldn't be ridiculous. I think in Canada an ambulance ride is, like, $230 dollars, average, depending on circumstances. In some places, it's as low as $45 and others, as high as $385. The average here in the States is closer to $1200 f*cking dollars. For just the ambulance. That's not even beginning to address the hospital visit and hope you don't an extended stay. These mother*ckers gave me a bill for close to $50,000 for my two week stay the first time I almost died. Bro, there's no way I am ever going to pay that. The f*ck is you saying? I read an account of someone going to the emergency room in the Philippines and it cost her $15 dollars. To see the doctor. It would have been free but she's not a citizen. More than anything, universal healthcare would force Big Pharma to price their medications appropriately. There would have affordable prescriptions for everyone. When I left my job, I lot my insurance. When I checked prices on my meds, just a single prescription was $400 f*cking dollars for one month's worth. In Canada, that prescription would have been $15. The ill thing? The $400 dollar one was the cheapest I could find stateside. I take five medications for my heart. Uninsured, I'd be dropping close to $3800 a month, on sh*t I need to live. Who the f*ck has a loose $3800 when they have to pay that much in rent every month? Insulin is, like, $300 for 10 days worth here. In Canada, it's f*cking $30. Sh*t's even cheaper in Egypt. Small businesses wouldn't have to worry about employee healthcare or anything like that. If you have more than two employees, the cost you save in insurance coverage is more than enough to offset that tax increase. You'd be able to actually pay a more livable wage, while pocketing more profit at the same time. How is any of this bad? How can you spin this sh*t as a negative?

Free education means a more literate populace. We wouldn't have near as many Anti-Vaxxers and Flat Earthers. Motherf*ckers would understand the science of social distancing and mask wearing during a goddamn pandemic. I wouldn't be so f*cking mad having to dumb myself down just to interact with society. If we follow the Nordic system, you get your four years worth of education, graduate with a proper degree, and get placed into a position immediately out of college to tenure in your focus for the next four years. It's not an internship but a real job. You not only get a degree, but you immediately start earning a living in that field, while accumulating experience. Once you complete your four year employment obligation, you can continue your employment, start the process  over with a new major in mind, or you're free to travel abroad with four years experience and a BA in your pocket. Not only would the populace be more literate, more people would be employed thus stimulating the economy. Those that enter into science and engineering, would have to innovate in their fields for four years, minimum, so you'd have hungry minds creating the future, just like back in the day when “America was great” or whatever. More education, means more jobs, means a stronger economy, means less crime. Again, how is this a bad thing? You wouldn't even have to do away with private college or studying whatever you want. If there wasn't a free program to take advantage of, just pay for your classes. I'm sure there'd still be grants and scholarship and financial aid available for aspiring painters or wannabe film makers, or any number of vanity degrees. F*ck it, man, if you want to go to Harvard just for the clout, you can still totally do that. F*ck, dude, you can do it after getting your free degree even. Graduate school, bro. Motherf*cker can be making six figures paying that stupid, clout chasing, tuition out of pocket because you can afford it with the job you got with that free degree. That's the beauty of the Nordic system; Everyone gets what they want.

That's just the surface of these benefits. I'm not even going to go into what universal income, maternity leave, vacation time, strong unions, and subsidized child care. I'm not even going to touch on how prisons over there are built to rehabilitate, not to humiliate and effectively enslave. For Profit prisons are the modern plantations. Look that sh*t up. I'm not even going to go into detail about the benefits collective legalization for all drugs and how crime plummeted because of it, or how they treat addiction like a mental illness and not a criminal offense, or the way they house their homeless and treat them humanely, while transitioning them into society with counseling, job placement, and social work. All of this, for, maybe, an extra hundred or two a year. That's, what? An extra $30 a month out of your check? Less than $10 a f*cking week? That one trip to Starbucks. That's two Quarter-Pounders. That's nothing. How does that math not work? How do these universal benefits, not jive with everyone? How does this sh*t not make sense to people, when you can see it working the world over? The illest thing in this whole situations is the fact that we, as the US, have absolutely more than enough to implement this system, this type of social democracy which benefits everyone, if we just rearranged our budget. Admittedly, we couldn't just implement the healthcare out the box. I mean, we could, but that would entail getting motherf*ckers who make trillions, like Amazon, Facebook, and Tesla as well as Zuckerberg, Musk, and Bezos, to pay their fair share without circumventing said responsibilities Corporate Welfare is crippling the working American and people are too dumb to even pay attention to it, distracted by buzzwords like “communism” and “immigrant.” So we do the free education thing first. That's only $4 billion a year. I checked. That's pittance compared to the defense budget.

Motherf*ckers wouldn't even need to “tax the rich” or “hold them accountable” if we just cut the defense budget. We can keep pretending that trickle down works and that Wall Street works for us and not corporate gluttons and that Reaganomics works, and whatever else the conservatives want us all to believe. Whatever, right? The US spends $650 billion on defense. That is, quite literally, $400 billion more than the next country, China. The rest of the world, minus the US and China, spends a collective $831 billion. That's an average of less than $50 billion a year, worldwide. F*ck, if you add China back into that, it's still less than $65 billion a year. Did i mention that these are yearly budgets? And these are old numbers. My guy, we can afford to drop a few billion of that defense budget. We can probably skim $50 billion and enrich a lot of people's lives but we don't even need that much. Drop $4 billion off of that gratuitous $650 tril, and you can fund free education for everyone. Following the Nordic system, that means more jobs. That means more taxes. That means a better economy and more revenue to implement the universal health care, which would further lessen the burden of employers and employees, putting even more money back into everyone's pockets, which would grow the economy even more. Happy and secure people, spend more money. The only people this system hurts, are those hurting us with the current system. Are they literally too dumb and/or selfish to let go of a little extra and uplift all of us? How do you argue that math? No one loses but the people forcing you to lose right now, in real time. F*ck, man, 2020 has exposed this entire system and there are still people who will die for a country that won't even give you enough money to be safe during a whole ass plague and I don't understand that at all.

[fortunei]

Second opinion (1/?)

rating: k+

pairing: Annette/Ingrid

wordcount: 1k~

“Ingrid is torn to choose between the two people circulating around her life. Unknown to her, there’s eventually an elephant in the room – and for so many times, she’s just failed to see.”

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It is not the first time for Ingrid to tell her fellow part-timers about her recurring problem, and likely it won’t be the last.

Actually, she can opt to ask someone else, like her childhood friends for example, instead relying on someone else while she is discussing yet about someone else. Then again, Ingrid knew that her childhood friend won’t be of any help to begin with, especially as it is related to this ‘case sensitive’ things.

Currently, there are two young women about her age revolving around her life as Ingrid is busy juggling between college classes and numerous part-time works to pay her tuition and miscellaneous life fees. Ingrid was not one who think about romance, yet, as these two women advanced—in her vocabulary, anyway—Ingrid grasped that she is in a spot where it is no longer one of those ‘casual relationship’ between two girls.

First, Dorothea Arnault. A beautiful, lovely brunette to everyone’s standard specifically to her childhood friend’s Sylvain standard. If Ingrid about to borrow Sylvain’s way of description, Dorothea got a dynamite body and voice of a siren.

Okay, that was not the important point.

Dorothea and Ingrid first met not in the Garreg Mach University, but in that very coffee shop with Dorothea coming as a customer and Ingrid happened to miswrite her name as ‘Dorotea’ on her order of black coffee. The girl was amused, though, rather than angry. Ingrid remembered how she doubled over and told her friend, Edelgard, who’s sitting with a bored look at the corner of the café with her espresso waiting for the brunette to calm down.

After that, Dorothea remembered Ingrid’s name and visited the café often … until Dorothea scribbled her phone number on the in-the-house mug, along with a kiss mark and a sign from the diva.

“—and then, Dorothea asking you for a date again this weekend?” Annette, her aforementioned fellow part-timer confidant, interrupts.

“No, not this weekend. Though she said if I want to see her performance at the Mittelfrank Opera troupe, I’m welcome to visit,” Ingrid replies. Annette gave her a look.

“How’s that different from asking for a date?” the orange-haired woman let out a dry laugh.

“That’s … not that directly, right?” Ingrid furrows her brows.

Annette rests her chin on her palm, her expression alternates between giving Ingrid a sharp glare or just a tired sigh. “Oh, you. No wonder Dorothea is exasperated.”

There are currently only the two of them in a break room for a half hour break. Lion House Café has a little number of female workers in due to unknown reason, mostly Ingrid will be there as the sole female part-timer, or there will be Annette or the second-in-command manager Mercedes, or it is them both.

Annette didn’t take off the store apron and busied herself with something else—notes of something, presumably her college stuffs—Annette would be there to lend her ear. Ingrid didn’t really remember how exactly it is started, then again Annette has been someone who’s easy to talk with.

“Then, is it about Bernadetta?” Annette changes the topic. Her hands folded neatly on the table. Annette sure knows her well.

The second person of interest, Bernadetta Varley, is Ingrid’s flat mates right next door.

As Ingrid is too busy to even know her neighbors, she knew about Bernadetta from her other childhood friend Felix, in which at times Ingrid found it strange when she traced it back as Felix is not exactly a sociable person. Felix said something about a girl who holed up in her room and only going out to take care of plants nearby Business major’s building.

Knowing how Bernadetta holed up in her room reminded Ingrid of her past, she helped Bernadetta to be out. Then, as Bernadetta operated normally now (by normal, she is seen more outside), she repaid Ingrid’s kindness with home cooking, which Ingrid found it hard to decline. Breakfast, often lunch too when Ingrid is around the flat.

The blonde nodded in affirmation. “She started to cook for dinner as well.”

“That’s so sweet of her.”

“But isn’t it … too much? I mean, isn’t it strange? It looks like I took an advantage of her.” Ingrid explains. Annette crooks her brow for a bit, tapping the tip of her pencil beside her open notebook.

“No, you don’t. I think Bernadetta is being kind to you because she wanted to,” Annette’s tone is positive and reassuring. Somehow, Ingrid is close to believe that it is okay. “So it shouldn’t be a problem, just make sure you thank her after every meal.”

“I did, don’t worry.”

Ingrid recounts inwardly how many times Bernadetta stuttered after Ingrid conveyed her heartfelt thanks after every meal. But perhaps, such details is of no concern to Annette. She could only hope that it won’t be a problem later, for her to be cooked a frequent, lavish meal, and on top of it, for free.

“By the way. Do you want some coffee, Ingrid? Dedue has unloaded a new Jamaica beans earlier. He asked for us to give a taste.”

“Sure thing.”

Ingrid watches as Annette bounces on her step as she gingerly reaches for the exit and then to the direction of the espresso machine by the left, bumping with Ashe along the way before the door closes.

Annette happened to be in the same shift with Ingrid three times a week this month, one at night and two for the day shift. Ingrid thought it would be a good chance to talk with Annette now, since the afternoon will be the busiest hour of that café.

Not long, Annette is back with two paper cups of piping hot coffee. She places the cups away from her book, as to avoid spilling, Ingrid holds both cups and wait for Annette to sit before giving back her share of cup.

“I don’t know if you want more sugar or syrup, but please help yourself. I’m trying to memorize the notes.”

“Oh, sorry. Did I bother you with my babbling?” Ingrid shot an apologetic look.

“Not at all!” Annette beams, taking sip on her coffee cup. “Ouch, it is hot!”

“Careful, Annette.”

Ingrid shields the open book, pries it away as Annette tumbles a bit after the stinging hot coffee impact. It would be bad if her notes for tests are ruined, is what Ingrid had in mind first. Then, back to Annette, trying to help the orange-haired woman steady herself before the coffee happened to spill on her clothes.

“Ah, oh, thank you, Ingrid.” Annette says. She put the cup on the table. Ingrid shuffles to get a glass of water from the break room’s dispenser, handing it to her. “God, why am I so clumsy?”

“It just happens, no need to mull over it.” Ingrid tries to calm her down. “Also, it is the least I can do to help since you’re always listening to my problems.”

Annette chuckles, “No need for such formalities. Friends help each other, after all~”

“Then, I’ll help you next to be as silent as possible as you memorized your notes.” The blonde adds.

“If you say so.”

Annette accepted the offer, so it seems. Ingrid glances to the wall clock, there is a good fifteen minutes. It should be enough time for a little study and maybe she can check her phone quietly at the meantime.

Ingrid looks down to the spread books belonged to Annette, noticing the small, meticulous writing across the pages. Sometimes there’s a note with different-colored ink, or a phrase that’s highlighted. There also scatters of arrows connecting points of the lecture. Numerous stick notes jutting out from the handbook is also correspondent to the stick notes glued to the notebook pages. Everything seems to be planned out well.

“Um, Ingrid?”

“Yes?”

“Mind if … you don’t look at my writings? It’s, uhh, messy.” On the response, Annette places both hands on the page. Ingrid blinks.

“But your writings are cute. And everything is in order, unlike me.” Ingrid comments. She blows on her own cup before taking sip. It is bitter, but the acidity level is just perfect. “I hardly take notes during lectures.”

“You didn’t?”

“I’d prefer to be out exercising, but, yeah. I can manage just fine without too much notes. I guess I’m just lazy.”

Annette is scribbling something on the side, another note to a phrase she lined. “People have a different approach on studying, so I can’t really say whether your chosen way is classified as lazy or not.”

“You know, Annette. You’re so convincing,” Ingrid finds herself saying, almost blurting. The orange-haired woman looks up, perplexed.

“It’s not in the bad way, what I meant is when you said something so positive, I feel that everything is going to be okay, and that really is a good feeling.”

There is a pause, Annette’s lips hang open. She breaks away the eye contact to continue on the notes that she left upon listening in. Ingrid was confused of the sudden silence, but she digressed, respected Annette’s choice to remain silent until their break time is over.

Ashe and Dedue entered as soon as the clock struck to 2 PM, seemingly to talk animatedly about types of coffee beans. Ingrid raises from her seat and waves at them, while on the corner of her eyes, she saw Annette closed her notebooks and collected her study kits in hurry. She straighten up, bid a good work to both boys before walking past the door just in front of Ingrid.

What’s up with her? Ingrid wasn’t sure of what to say, but they must continue the shift anyway. Even if it is with all the awkward silence.