#discount department store

[divedrive]

Recipe for Giant Heart-Shaped Pan Cookie With this incredibly quick and simple giant heart-shaped pan cookie decorated with vibrant M&M's®, you can celebrate Valentine's Day in a big-hearted manner. 1/4 cup firmly packed brown sugar, 1/2 cup unsalted butter softened, 1 egg, 1/2 cup white sugar, 1/4 teaspoon salt, 1 cup candy-coated milk chocolate pieces or to taste, 1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract, cooking spray, 1/4 teaspoon baking soda, 1 cup all-purpose flour or more as needed

[annapolisrose]

Take everything I have.

Whole section of a shoe department to myself.

[astro-inthestars]

YOOOOOOO WE FUCKIN DID IT!!!! YEAHHH!! We slayed SOOO well!! EVERYONE DID!! The other sections were SO FUCKING GOOD i LOVED it!!! And like, we won first place or whatever i didnt care about that really BUT WE ALL DID GREAT!

Anyways, just got home from my pal's birthday party (more like Hang Out at the mall, we ate out) it was AWESOME! First time inside a Starbucks, and first order ALL ON MY OWN! (HELL YEAH RELIGIOUS REBELLION!!)

[rubiatinctorum]

My most recent trick for trying to spend less (or, in this case, buy less) is to put like really practical and/or arbitrary rules around things I can't buy in categories I am spending too much on too frequently. For example:

At this point, no buying jewelry whatsoever!!

If the shoes aren't leather, I shan't buy them (I noticed I'm more inclined to wear my leather shoes, so why buy a pair that aren't leather and i'd be less inclined to wear them?). This means I buy like one pair of shoes a year on average now, and each year it has been a different style.

No polyester clothing. This rules out like 70% of the clothing I'd impulse buy without consideration, and it narrows the number of stores I can shop from for clothes to mostly just the discount department store and thrift stores. No acrylic because it fucking feels bad

No makeup unless I'm replacing something from years ago that was like grody to the max or something I've used up. No perfume because I have probably too much.

Does the coat make me feel like a fucking movie star? If not, it does not make it to the checkout with me.

I'm finding this really helps a lot because if I want to impulse buy something I can think, does this follow my rules I made? And if it does I can get it, but then I've pondered it, and often it doesn't and I don't get it. It's really been useful. Because NO i would not actually have a good reason to get that sequin dress I walk past at the mall when I go to one job and NO I would not be able to wear the cute fucking winx club looking blue heeled boots for more than like a half hour at a time and the plastic would probably be fucked in a year so NO they do not come home with me

[donot-wish]

A Guide to the Top Department Stores Redefining Elegance in the USA

In a world where fashion is synonymous with elegance, luxury, and exclusivity, finding the perfect attire that complements your style can sometimes feel like an elusive quest. While high-end department stores have been the traditional go-to for luxurious fashion finds, the emergence of online marketplaces has revolutionized the way we shop for high-quality, designer clothing. One such platform that stands out in the realm of discounted luxury fashion is "Do Not Wish." In this guide, we'll explore some of the top luxury department stores in USA that have been redefining elegance, and how Do Not Wish serves as the gateway to affordable luxury.

1. Bergdorf Goodman: Where Luxury Meets Style

Bergdorf Goodman, located on Fifth Avenue in New York City, is a mecca for those seeking the epitome of luxury and style. Renowned for its curated selection of high-end designers, this iconic department store has been a fashion enthusiast's haven for decades. From chic couture to avant-garde designs, Bergdorf Goodman is a showcase of sophistication.

However, for those who crave the elegance without the hefty price tag, Do Not Wish steps in as the ultimate solution. By partnering with Bergdorf Goodman and other top-notch department stores, Do Not Wish offers a gateway to access these prestigious labels at a fraction of the cost. It's not just shopping; it's an investment in style that won't break the bank.

2. Neiman Marcus: Elevating Fashion to Art

Neiman Marcus is synonymous with luxury, offering a carefully curated selection of designer pieces that redefine fashion as an art form. With its flagship store in Dallas, Texas, Neiman Marcus has set the standard for elegance and exclusivity. From runway collections to exclusive collaborations, Neiman Marcus is a destination for those who appreciate the finer things in life.

For savvy shoppers looking to indulge in Neiman Marcus' exquisite offerings without the premium price tag, Do Not Wish is the answer. Imagine having access to the latest designs from Neiman Marcus at a discounted rate – that's the promise Do Not Wish fulfills. It's not just about affordability; it's about making luxury accessible to everyone.

3. Saks Fifth Avenue: A Fashion Wonderland

Saks Fifth Avenue, a legendary department store with its flagship in New York City, is a fashion wonderland that caters to the discerning tastes of luxury enthusiasts. Boasting an extensive collection of renowned designers, Saks Fifth Avenue is a symbol of opulence and sophistication. The grandeur of its flagship store reflects the grandiosity of the fashion it houses.

Do Not Wish recognizes the allure of Saks Fifth Avenue and brings the dream of owning high-end fashion pieces closer to reality. By partnering with Saks and other top department stores, Do Not Wish ensures that every fashion aficionado can experience the magic of Saks Fifth Avenue without the premium price tag.

4. Barneys New York: The Pinnacle of Cool Luxury

Barneys New York has long been associated with cool luxury, offering a unique blend of high-end and avant-garde designs. With a flagship store on Madison Avenue, Barneys has been a trendsetter in the world of fashion. Its commitment to showcasing emerging designers alongside established brands has made it a favorite among those who crave the extraordinary.

Now, with the partnership between Do Not Wish and Barneys New York, that extraordinary fashion is within reach for everyone. Do Not Wish makes it possible to embrace the cool luxury synonymous with Barneys without compromising on budget.

5. Nordstrom: A Legacy of Customer-Centric Luxury

Nordstrom, with its humble beginnings as a shoe store in Seattle, has evolved into a retail giant known for its customer-centric approach to luxury shopping. The Nordstrom shopping experience is unparalleled, offering a vast selection of high-quality fashion, beauty, and home goods. Its commitment to providing exceptional service sets it apart in the world of department stores.

Do Not Wish recognizes the legacy of Nordstrom and bridges the gap between exceptional service and affordability. By offering discounts on luxury fashion items available at Nordstrom, Do Not Wish ensures that every customer receives the VIP treatment without the VIP price tag.

Do Not Wish: Your Portal to Affordable Luxury

As we navigate the landscape of these top department stores, one name consistently emerges as the gateway to affordable luxury – Do Not Wish. This discounted luxury fashion e-commerce marketplace has established itself as a leader in making high-end, contemporary, and independent designer fashion accessible to a broader audience.

Do Not Wish's unique approach involves partnering directly with these iconic department stores to source authentic, brand-new items at discounted prices. This ensures that every purchase on Do Not Wish is not just a transaction; it's an investment in quality, style, and affordability.

The platform's user-friendly interface and transparent business model make it easy for shoppers to explore a curated selection of discounted luxury items from their favorite department stores. From elegant dresses and accessories to timeless pieces that transcend trends, Do Not Wish offers a diverse range of choices for those who refuse to compromise on style.

In conclusion, the world of fashion is evolving, and so are the avenues through which we access it. While top department stores continue to define elegance, Do Not Wish emerges as the revolutionary force that democratizes luxury. It invites fashion enthusiasts to explore, indulge, and redefine their style without the constraints of a hefty price tag. After all, with Do Not Wish, luxury is not a wishful thought – it's a reality within reach. So, why wish when you can have it all?

[teaandspite]

The Great Goodreads Diss List (Part 1)

Context: For many years now, I have been collecting funny lines from Goodreads reviews to share with my coworkers. (I do collection development, reader's advisory, and weeding at a public library, so I read a LOT of reviews)

Are some of these, perhaps, rather mean? Yes, but they are also very funny, and come from a place of honest frustration. In the tradition of Bargepole threads and lists everywhere, names and titles have been censored.

"First, I want to say that I understand how hard it is to write a book and how amazing it is when it is actually published. Congrats to the author for that accomplishment. That said--"

"Warning: This review will be lengthy due to pure hatred."

"I found myself feeling really, really annoyed with the world that this book is allowed to exist. We live in a universe where the passenger pigeon is extinct but this book goes along merrily being read by unsuspecting lovers of words and ideas and stories? It just seems like too much, you know?"

"Don't do it. Don't spring the cash for the hardcover. Instead, eat an entire bag of Twizzlers, spend some money you don't have at a high-end department store, look up on Facebook the shady college boyfriend that made you cry, research the current value of your home or 401K and then read all about how the big hedge fund managers are faring during the economic crisis. You'll feel about the same stomach pain if you waste your time reading this book."

"This wretched novel begins with the mugging of an old lady and it appears I may be in the process of repeating that loathsome crime as [author] was 78 when she wrote it. It is not nice to put the boot into such a poor defenseless old creature lying there with only a damehood, a Booker Prize and a few million quid. It’s a nasty job but somebody has to do it."

"I think this is the way dead people would write, if they could."

"I am considering setting up SPABB: Society for the Protection of Accurate Book Blurb. This blurb appears to have been written by someone from the publishers who met [the author] the night before, got very drunk, lost his notes and then constructed something in a fug of hangover the next morning."

"I congratulate [the author] on the early half of his book, which was thoroughly fun and made me laugh and think. I congratulate [the author] on the second half of his book, for finishing it. It reads like that was difficult."

"…a woman whose taste in contemporary literature has roughly the same batting average as a pitcher in the National League."

"The author is a pompous windbag."

"Recommends it for: No one. Recommended to me by: A friend who apparently wished to cause me great suffering."

"Makes me wonder: is it possible to obtain similes at a volume discount?"

"The repeated phrases made me want to mail a thesaurus to the author."

"I'm disappointed in myself for finishing this book."

"if the author described [character's] eyes as "obsidian" one more time I was tempted to write her and ask if her thesaurus broke."

"They say that an infinite number of monkeys with an infinite number of typewriters would, if given infinite time, eventually produce the complete works of William Shakespeare. [This book], on the other hand, would probably take the average monkey just under two hours."

"I can't imagine what the author had to do to get this nadir of Western literature printed on innocent trees, but he does seem to know a LOT about being well-connected in New York."

"This book is so bad it is almost worth reading just to make you appreciate the other books you are reading."

"Reads like it was written by a brilliant author, the night before it was due."

"raises interesting questions, like: can a book be so bad as to constitute an act of terrorism"

"has this author ever spoken to a human woman"

"This acorn has fallen so far from the tree that it can’t even see the forest."

"I’m guessing they are touted as ‘beach reads’ because no one will care if they get dropped into the ocean."

"This book begins with all the energy of a hand vacuum near the end of its battery life, and the pace doesn't quicken much from there."

"At least everybody’s eyes stayed the same color this time around.”

Part 2

Part 3

[foldingfittedsheets]

You've talked a lot about how to find a good mattress, but what about how to find a reputable mattress store? What are some red/green flag to look for?

I mean, that one’s tough cause geographically there’s huge variance in quality and accessibility for folks. Generally you want a good return policy with minimal restocking fees, it should be well maintained, and in my book carrying bigger brands is a plus.

It is fully legal in the US to sell used beds and not tell you so it’s also a good idea to ask what happens to beds that get returned. My company sanitizes and resells for a big discount but many places will just resell without disclosing or sanitizing. I’ve even heard of them reselling customer beds they picked up that were in good shape.

Generally any national chain will be fine, big department stores and such are fine. Mom and pop shops can be the shadiest or the nicest and it can be hard to know which is which. Read reviews, do a vibe check, but they’re gonna vary.

[kumkaniudaku]

Back Up

Summary: Terry gets much needed back up during a Christmas shopping outing.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Language

Previous: Spoiled

MASTERLIST

Bodies whipping past each other in a crowded department store made an already exhausting shopping session all the more uncomfortable for Terry. He hated being forced to mingle with the public, scooting past rude customers as they selfishly took up space between messy clothing racks and disheveled aisles. He’d already said more expletives than his mother would enjoy if she were with him and Patrice searching for gifts to round out their early Christmas haul. 

His wife had coaxed him out of the house with promises of his favorite hot meal and one of those Korean face masks he pretended to only kind of like for his willingness to act as her hired muscle for the afternoon. Lugging big boxed items and not so subtly shoving grown men who stepped in her path was his primary task. And, for the work he’d done in two hours, it had to be enough to earn a kiss or two as a reward for good behavior. 

Patrice and Terry stood side by side as she carefully and quietly scanned a printed spreadsheet lined with multiple names and items. 

“Hey, boo, did you see if that juicer back there was marked down? I wanna grab it for Mama.” 

Terry tinkered with the buttons on a display air fryer and shook his head. “I wasn’t looking, but everything in here seems to be on sale. Need me to go back for you? I don’t mind.”

Despite his disdain for the current circumstances, he’d gleefully double back to fulfill Patrice’s wishes. She reached out to stroke his muscled arm as a thank you for his effort.

“No, that’s okay, baby. How about you meet me over by the tableware instead so we can divide and conquer? I need to grab a new cutlery set so we can throw ours out and then get out of here. Promise. I know you’re ready to eat.”

“And go the hell home,” he grumbled. “I don’t understand how you deal with all this.”

His deep scowl, usually a deterrent for strangers looking to avoid conflict, only made him look like an adorable petulant child to Patrice. A grin spread across her face as she approached him to smooth her palms arose his broad chest. 

“I know, Pooh. You’re doing a great job, though. All cute and patient for me.” 

Praise from her for even the simplest tasks never failed to switch off his defenses and soften his heart into jelly. If asked, he’d vehemently deny that he enjoyed being cooed at like a child, but Patrice caught the uncontrollable happy twinkle in his eye as she pushed up on her toes to kiss his cheek. 

He attempted to regain his composure to save face. “You’re talkin’ to me like a baby.”

“Not just any baby. You’re my baby.” More pecks on his stubbled jaw made Terry groan and roll his eyes as he slowly gave in. Sweet talk had prevailed and he was back to being wrapped around her ring finger like the shining wedding band she’d been wearing for a little over a month. She pinched his cheek and smiled in triumph knowing the battle was won. “I’ll be quick, I’ll promise. Two minutes!”

“So we cool with only two minutes now?”

Patrice mirrored Terry’s cheeky grin as she backed away in search of her final gift for the afternoon, leaving him proud of his suggestive joke. 

He prayed they could hit 120 seconds on the dot for the first time in their lives. His feet ached. His stomach growled louder than the Michael Bublé songs playing over the store’s speakers. His patience was thin. If he wasn’t in the comfort of home within 45 minutes, he’d have to introduce the public to a version of Terry no one should have to meet. 

Following Patrice’s instructions, Terry mosied toward a glittering section full of discounted crystal and fine china. Where others saw Patrice as a complex maze of desires, feelings, and unmeetable demands, Terry knew exactly what she liked. Natural textures and earthy tones kept their home grounded in nature to match her love for the small flower garden she kept in the backyard. Every kitchen accessory, big and small, revolved around the coveted ivory dinner set she purchased with her first check as an educator. Forks and spoons would be no different. Terry didn’t need another hand slap and stern lecture to learn that lesson.

His fingers tracked option after option on cluttered shelves until he found two sets of flatware that fit her strict specifications. Sleek? Check. Matching her favorite plates and blows? Got it. He prided himself on making her decisions easier and this latest attempt was his best to date.  

Grabbing the first set was a piece of cake. He slid it from the shelf with no issue to place into the already-packed shopping basket. The second attempt came with a struggle as another, much daintier hand attempted to tug his wife’s prize from his grasp. 

Terry looked down to find a small, frail older woman with ivory skin and a tight frown looking back at him with contempt. He tugged a little harder, but she pulled back. 

Not wanting to cause a scene for fear of being seen as the angry Black man terrorizing fellow patrons, he tried placating the older woman with a polite smile and disarming chuckle. “This is for my wife, actually. You know how that goes. I’m happy to give it to you if she chooses otherwise, though.” 

The attempt at a friendly tone and winning smile did little to deter his unlikely adversary. What charm he thought he possessed only seemed to make her angrier. She eyed him up and down, thin lips twisted into an indignant smile as she attempted to nab the item a second time to no avail. 

“But you already have one,” she complained, pointing at the item in his basket. “You can’t have another.” 

“I’m not trying to have two. She’ll make a decision and put back what she doesn’t want.”

“So, you’re just gonna hold it?” 

Terry regarded her with a blank stare. “…Yes.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Will you be the one to stop me or what?” 

There wasn’t much left in Terry’s tank for niceties. Greying hair and crepey skin wouldn’t do much to stop a tongue-lashing if static was what she was after. 

The woman stood firm, reaching to grab the item from Terry’s hand but missing when he snatched it back. She raised her voice. “I’m going to have security come over here and make you give it up.”

“Ma’am, I truly do not care who you call. Stop trying to put your hands on me.” 

“Or what?” She was challenging a nearly unshakeable man. He didn’t budge and it left her incensed. She attempted another angle. “Call your wife over here. Go on! I want to talk to her face to face.” 

He scoffed and shook his head. “Nah. You don’t want that. Call security. It’s better for everyone involved.”

“Call her over here!”

“I’m not about to let you piss her off and ruin the rest of my day. Let’s figure something out.”

She had no idea what she was asking for, the kind of trouble she was welcoming into her life. Terry tried to reason with her. He tried to compromise to keep the peace. But, as Patrice rounded the corner to find an unfamiliar woman embroiled in a verbal tussle with her man, time had just run out. 

“Oh, no ma’am,” Patrice started with the look of a protective mother in her eyes. “You better figure that out and quick. We’re not playing that game. What’s the problem?” 

Fear gripped the older woman as Patrice approached. Terry slowly placed the second set of utensils in the basket and scoffed. Whatever happened next was up to God and whoever his newest foe served.

“I told you,” Terry reminded, shaking his head. “Good luck.”

“Is this your husband?” 

Patrice moved to stand in front of Terry with the juicer in tow, acting as a human shield. She spoke low and slow. “And what about him? What exactly is your issue?” 

Terry watched the exchange with bated breath. Her calmness was a war tactic she employed to size up her enemy. At any moment she might explode and leave you shell-shocked.

“He has two sets of flatware in that cart saying he’s waiting on you to decide. That’s not fair! Choose one,” the woman accused, her voice rising in a feeble attempt to intimidate Patrice.

“That’s not how shopping works! We’ll buy every single one of these motherfuckers if we want to! Who gon’ stop us?”

“With cash, too,” Terry mumbled in support.

The woman clutched invisible pearls, feining disgust at the use of adult language. “What a foul mouth! That is not the way you speak to people. Especially not your elders. ” 

“Baby, if you keep talking to this one behind me crazy, my mouth will be the last thing you need to worry about.”

“Is that a threat?” 

She should’ve prayed for a threat. A threat would’ve been the easy way out - a free pass to avoid making an enemy of someone with such an intense passion for using quick wit and a slick tongue to eviscerate her opponents. 

Patrice calmly turned to thrust the heavy juicer into Terry’s arms without a word before turning to make her point clear. He shook his head in pity. Poor woman. She’d tell this story to her family at dinner later, looking for sympathy when what she really needed was the foresight to recognize when she encountered the verbal assassin he called his better half.

Silently, he mouthed Patrice’s favorite opening statement in time with the words leaving her lips.

“Let me tell you something.” Terry smiled to himself, knowing he had her down to a science. Patrice pointed a manicured finger in her direction for extra emphasis. “I’m sure we’ll never meet again, but hopefully this will help you the next time you think about running up on someone you don’t know. Don’t you ever holler at my husband or your ass’ll have to cash that check your mouth wrote this afternoon. Have I made myself clear or are you so deprived of the sense God gave you that you need a demonstration?”

This time, Patrice’s heavy suggestion to drop the issue before it could escalate and retreat to another section of the store was received with renewed clarity. The woman huffed in defeat. Terry and Patrice watched her reluctantly pluck another option from the shelf and scurry away with her tail between her legs. Patrice tracked her with her eyes and a scowl that looked just like her husband’s on her face until the coast was clear. 

Terry watched her try to physically reset by rolling her shoulders down and back, but her face betrayed her once she turned to face him. 

She reached for the sets of cutlery and examined both under harsh fluorescent light. “These are nice. I think I like the left more though.” 

“Treece.” 

“Mmm, but the left is a little bulky now that I look at it. Maybe the right? Which one did you like?” 

“Patrice.” Terry used his index finger to tilt Patrice’s head upward and redirect her attention. The corners of his lips lifted into a small smile before leaning down to kiss her nose. “Thank you, Piggy. I had it, but I love when you back me up. What you want as repayment tonight?” 

“Mmmm, my feet hurt a little. Think you can work your magic?” 

He hummed in response. “I was gonna do that anyway for myself. Pick something else.”

“I want you to help me pick eating utensils so we can get out of here,” Patrice laughed to discharge the tension growing between them. “Left or right?”

“The left is my choice. But I’ll buy every single one of these motherfuckers in here if you want ‘em.”

His callback had both of them dissolving into a fit of giggles that only stopped once another patron browsing the aisle forced them to make a quick decision and make a move to return to their side of town. 

In the car, Patrice playfully jabbed a finger into Terry’s arm as they pulled out into mall traffic. “Don’t you go tellin’ my mama and daddy about this. I don’t have time for their mouths today. And stop letting people talk to you crazy in the first place. I’m serious, Terry.”

“Yes ma’am. You have made yourself abundantly clear.” 

“Shut up!” 

Silly jokes about the absurdity of hemming up an old woman passed between the pair as they sat in a bumper-to-bumper jam were interrupted by an incoming call on the car’s Bluetooth system. 

“How you doin’ mama,” Terry answered as soon as the call connected, leaving Patrice to entertain herself. “I got Treece in the car. You know she threatened to stop feeding me if I didn’t go shopping with her. Crazy, ain’t it?” 

“That’s what she should do! No way she should be out there with all these holiday crazies by herself.” 

Patrice nodded in agreement. “Thank you, Ms. Dee. You get the biggest gift under the tree this year.” 

“Oh, thank you, Treecey Girl!”

“Hold on, hold on,” Terry interjected. “Treecey is a holiday crazy! Let me tell you how she just threatened an old lady about some forks and knives today.”

“Terrence, don’t sit up here and lie. My girl is way too sweet for that.”

“Hand to God, mama. Almost body slammed somebody’s grandma.” Terry bore all of his teeth in an impish grin as Patrice’s eyes grew wide. 

“Snitch,” she mouthed at him before responding to Diedra. “Okay, threatened is an over-simplification. She was yelling at your son and I stepped in!” 

“Yelling!? Girl, start at the top.” 

The message ‘I can’t stand you’ typed into a note and flashed in his direction made Terry choke back laughter as he listened to Patrice defend her actions. Though he knew what he was doing, in his mind, she should’ve been more specific in her instruction. 

She never said he couldn’t tell his mama.

-----

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[annapolisrose]

The last goodbye.

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

Water is Thicker Than Blood Comic Part 3.6

“This wont get them kicked out, right?” (Koala is remarking on how she loves the red color)

<Start>

<Prev

Next>

He’s picking out suits for his brothers because they dont actually have formal wear appropriate for such a venue. He’s doing his best to try to find them something they would like though! Koala works for the department store and is letting him have an employee discount. She is also there for moral support.

The important thing for sabo is that he wants them to look similar to those who will be going to the party.

[sadhours]

Heatwave

Billy Hargrove x f!reader

masterlist

@billysbot 😘

summary: you and billy are melting on the couch when he thinks of way to cool you down, just to heat ya back up again.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, kissing, ice cubes, oral (f & m receiving), unprotected sex

////

It’s a lazy day. No work, no school. Just the heat of summer beating down on the run down two bedroom house you share with Billy. The window ac blasting paired with the oscillating fan you got for a discount at the department store isn’t doing much to cool the tiny place. Sprawled out on the couch, you’re both sticky with sweat. Aimlessly flipping through channels, not quite finding anything entertaining enough to keep your attention. Not to mention Billy’s like a space heater against your skin. Nevertheless, you’re needy. Have to cling to him like it’s the last time you’ll ever touch him. He doesn’t seem to mind, hand resting on your stomach while he watches you flick from channel to channel. Commercial after commercial, you two are silent.

Who knew Indiana summers could be so brutal? The lack of clothes is necessary, but it’s still simmering despite the cool breeze manufactured by the fan dancing against your bodies for seconds. Billy rests his cheek against yours, dancing his fingers against your bare navel and let’s out a small sigh.

“I’m melting,” you tell him.

He chuckles, nodding softly against your head, “You and I both, darlin’.”

You drop the remote and turn around so you can face him, placing your palm against his cheek as you look into his stunning eyes. His breath fans against your lips and it’s like magnet, pulling you closer to him. His plump, pink lips are just so inviting. You know that kissing him is just gonna make you feel hotter, but you don’t care. Feel desperate for it. So you press your mouth against his, hooking your leg up over his waist and press your body flush against his. Billy’s palm holds your thigh over him, kissing you gently at first but it progresses quickly. Like he’s just as needy as you are. His heavy tongue slides against your lower lip before purchasing passed them, flooding your mouth. Billy licks against your tongue, then against your teeth and he’s pulling back to kiss your lips before deepening it again. Your palm lowers to his jaw, fingertips digging in just slightly to his soft skin. The two of you moan into the kiss, writhing just slightly against each other.

The actions only add to the heat, your body almost uncomfortably hot but the kiss is distracting enough. But Billy keeps pulling back to breathe so you know he’s feeling just the same. You giggle when he does it, grabbing onto his hair to pull him back into it. It’s satisfying to see him flustered over a kiss. Intoxicating to know you can make him feel like that with something so simple as snogging. Billy grabs onto the flesh of your thigh tighter, pulling your closer while he circles his tongue around yours. You close your lips around his tongue, sucking on it gently while you roll your hips against him. He hums pleasantly, moving his hand to grab a handful of your ass. The heat in your body tunnels down to your core, an aching desire radiating from it while you take turns licking into each others mouths. Billy lays back, pulling you on top of him with both hands on the small of your back. You dominate the kiss at this angle, bracing your hands on his broad shoulders. The bulging muscles feel nice against your palms. You sit up, grabbing your cropped tank top and pulling it over your head. Billy’s mouth finds your tits, enveloping your nipple in the heat of it. You moan out softly, eyes fluttering shut as you revel in the euphoria erupting through you. He’s hard in his briefs, you can feel it against your ass as he just barely jerks his hips up.

“Billy,” you whimper, wrapping your fingers against the back of his neck while he sucks on your perky nipple.

Chills run down your spine, the opposite nipple tingles with how hard it is. Billy moves his hand up and flicks his forefinger against it, like he read your mind. You choke on a moan, the sound breaking into the humid air as you knit your fingers in his hair. He’s sloppy with it, coating your breast in his saliva. It’s dripping down your chest, making a mess and the sound of his eager lips against the sensitive skin is intense on your ears. A surge of wetness escapes your cunt, dampening your underwear while you weakly hump against him. His left hand squeezes at your hip and you can feel his lips tugging up on a smile against your skin. It’s endearing as much as it’s arousing. The excitement he gets from making you come undone is apparent and it’s one of the hottest things about him. Billy’s eagerness to please is unmatched.

He bites gently, looking up at you work this mischievous look that forces a half moan, half giggle from you. You pinch his cheek and he giggles around you, his eyes crinkling up with it. Pushing his head back, the pair of you laugh.

“You’re so pretty,” you confess honestly.

Billy grins wide, eyes closing with it before he replies, “You’re prettier.”

“Shut up,” you blush, squeezing his cheeks between your fingers.

“Ya still melting?” he asks, voice slightly constrained by the way you’re grabbing his face.

You let go, “Yeah. In a different way, now.”

He slaps your bum gently, “Up.”

You obey, standing up and watching as he does the same, hard cock swaying in his briefs. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into another kiss that makes you lightheaded. You struggle to keep up right, clutching onto his biceps for support while he twists his tongue around yours. Billy pulls back but you follow, not wanting the kiss to end so soon. He laughs, grabbing your wrists to steady you.

“I’ll be right back,” he assures you, “Lay down.”

You watch as he saunters down the hall and into the kitchen, piquing your curiosity but you listen, trusting him completely as you make yourself comfortable back on the couch again. You press your palm against your pussy, desperate for a bit of relief. The sounds of Billy rustling through the kitchen light you up in anticipation but you stay put, lazily rubbing yourself through your underwear.

“Can’t control yourself, babydoll?” he inquires in a teasing tone as he sits on the edge of the couch. In his hand, he’s got a short glass filled with cubes which ignites a totally new fire inside you.

“What’s that for?” you sit up quickly. Billy presses his hand against your chest, pushing you back down with a soft laugh and a shake of his head.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he insists, biting his lip as he finishes his sentences.

Eager, you look up at him with wide, curious eyes as you impatiently wait for his next move. Billy plucks a single ice cube from the cup, moving to drag it against your collarbone. You inhale sharply at the coolness, tilting your head back while you squeeze your thighs together. It’s a relief from the heat but it’s an incredibly erotic feeling, shooting straight from where the ice meets your skin down to your pulsing pussy. He continues against your collarbone, dipping his lips down to suck the water up from your skin. As he does so, he lowers the ice down the curve of your breast. You gasp, eyelids involuntarily closing while goosebumps erupt over your skin. Billy’s tongue follows the ice, warming the coldness left in it’s wake. When he circles the ice cube around your nipple, you cry out softly.

“Coolin’ ya down?” he asks, biting his lip as he looks up at you.

Quite the opposite. You’ve never felt hotter, chest heaving as you pant out. It’s not a temperature thing. You’re squirming at the feeling, eyes wide with your eyebrows knit as you look at him, mouth agape. There’s no fucking way you could reply, no possibility of actual words coming from you. A weak moan falls out instead and he chuckles, looking at you with dark eyes as you fall apart beneath him. Billy circles the ice around your nipple a few more times before leaning down to suck up what’s melted around it. A strangled groan escapes you, hands gripping the couch under you. Billy slides the ice cube to the neglected nipple, but it’s barely the size of a marble at this point. It’s turned into water in no time but he’s reaching for a second quickly, running against your nipple while he sucks a sizable hickey on the other breast.

The teasing continues until you’re arching your back and the second ice cube melts into nothing. He peels your underwear down your thighs, slapping the bottom of one so you lift your legs and he can get them completely off. You sit up more, back against the arm of the couch while he retrieves another ice cube. Billy starts at your belly button, swirling the ice around before descending. Once the cold ice meets the top of your pussy lips, you gasp and spread your legs for him. Billy drags it down to your swollen clit, bumping the corner of the cube against the bundle of nerves before he’s moving it through your folds. The sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever felt, turning you into a puddle, just like the ice between his fingers. He slips the shrinking ice cube inside your cunt, watching you eagerly as your hips jerk from the feeling.

“Holy shit,” you pant out, wide eyed.

Billy bites his lip, looking from your pussy back to your eyes, “It melted, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod, letting your head fall back as he reaches for another cube and repeats the same actions, but this time, he slides it inside your pulsing walls before it’s melted quite as much. He puts his whole mouth on you, tongue curling around your clit before flicking through your folds and then prodding into your hole. Billy’s fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs as he spreads you even wider, going to town on your pussy like a man starved. You moan repeatedly, fingers grasping at his dirty blonde curls as you push him closer against your cunt. He hums at the neediness, eyes meeting yours while he devours you.

“Oh, fuck!” you cry, eyes locked on his while he focuses on your clit, moving his tongue in the particularly perfect way he does. You can feel him moaning against you, watching as he grinds down against the couch. Billy slips two fingers in without resistance, curling them up against your sensitive wall as he sucks your clit between his lips. It’s formulaic, the way he can bring you on the precipice of orgasm in seconds. Tried and true, Billy works easily to bring you to that edge. He moans gutturally against you as your body seizes in pleasure, the rough waves of euphoric heaven wrack through you. Vision goes white, ears ringing as you scream your boyfriends name, thighs trapping his head and fingers pushing his mouth hard against you.

“Billy!” you cry, eyes leaking as you jerk your hips up against him, riding out your orgasm.

He allows you to come down, smoothing his hands against the backs of your thighs. His chin is shiny with your slick as he pulls away, moving quick to kiss you hungrily. The taste of yourself is welcomed, clinging to him desperately while he writhes against you. His hard cock strained by his underwear rubs against you in a way that has you eager for another orgasm. You scratch down his back, wrapping your legs around his waist as you pull him closer.

You remember the glass of quickly melting ice, pushing against his chest. Billy sits back, looking at you with that glassy look in his eyes that tells you he’s desperate. You sink down on the floor between his legs. Hooking your fingers into his waist band, you pull down his briefs and let his cock free. It slaps up against his abs, pulsing while his slit leaks. You move forward and lap at the precum before sitting back and grabbing for the cup. You pull out a cube and press it to the top of his cock. Billy groans lowly, watching as you drag it down is shaft and then experimentally slide it against his sack.

“Fu-uck,” he lets out in a broken moan, clenching his fists at his side, letting you know he’s giving you complete control.

The ice cube melts quickly and you lick up what it’s left behind before reaching for another. Shyly, you circle it against his nipple.

“Oh,” he exhales in pleased surprise as his legs involuntarily spread. You giggle softly, dragging the cube down his muscled torso and swipe it around the tip of his cock. Billy jerks his hips up, mouth hung open as he pants out. Your clit aches at the sight, walls fluttering around nothing but the thought of his stretching you out. But the sounds he makes are too pretty, and the almost submissive writhe of his body is too good. The ice cube drips, is so cold in your fingers as you bring it down against his shaft and then back up to the most sensitive part of his tip.

“Jesus Christ,” he curses, cock twitching at the sensation.

You bite your lip, bringing the ice to his slit and watching as his chest heaves with how hard he’s breathing. Once the ice melts and you look back to the cup, you realize that was the last of them. So you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and sink down until it meets the back of your throat. Breathing through your nose, you grab hold of his hands and he laces your fingers together. You bob up and down on his thick length, squeezing his hands as you focus on not gagging. Drool pools at the corners of your lips, dripping down his cock as you drag up and down it. The whimpers and whines he’s eliciting make you squirm where you’re sat, looking up to meet his watching eyes. Billy’s fucking ethereal, blissed out. Glazed eyes, pink lips parted as he pants out with his eyebrows knit together.

“Fuck,” he grits out, “Get on my cock. Need your pussy, now.”

The urgency in his voice rushes you, pulling off his cock with a pop before you climb into his lap. You sink down on his cock easily, the pair of you groaning out at the feeling. Billy grabs onto your hips roughly, pushing you down on him eagerly while he growls. You hump against him, wrapping your arms around his neck while you stare into his eyes.

“So good, your pussy feels so fucking good,” he whines out, nails digging into your skin.

“Billy,” you gasp out, eyes rolling back as his tip hammers into your g-spot.

“Such a good girl for me, fuck— so hot,” he babbles out, hands helping you bounce up and down on him, “Ride that cock, just like that, baby girl.”

His voice is heavy on your ears, riling you up even more while you ride him. It’s wonderful, your body overwhelmed with the pleasure. His gorgeous face staring up at you is intoxicating, makes you buzz with desperation. He’s utterly perfect, all chiseled and handsome and all fucking yours. You grab his face, grinding down on him with reckless abandon. Billy’s clearly close, he grabs your hips and holds you still so he can thrust up into you even harder.

“Oh, fuck yeah, take it,” he growls out, holding you tight enough to leave bruises. It doesn’t matter. You’re covered in the evidence of his lust.

“Feels so good,” you tell him.

“Yeah?” he asks, voice higher than normal. “Taking it like a good little slut. Fucking made for it.”

His words make your toes curl, coupled with the almost delirious look in his eye as he’s overtaken with arousal induced hunger. He looks so hot when he gets like this, concentrated yet falling apart. It’s enough to have you mirroring him, moaning out as you keep your grip on his stunning face. His eyes gaze up at you through thick eyelashes, beads of sweat forming along his hairline while his hips rock up into you with determined force. Your walls squeeze him as you feel the familiar pressure building in the pit of your stomach and the tingling sensation rushing up your thighs.

“Gonna cum?” he asks, breathless, “Go ahead, cum on my cock.”

Your hands move to hold his shoulders, pressing your foreheads together while you work to meet his thrusts. He captures your lips in his, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you flush against him. The kiss is just as urgent as the slapping of your bodies, sloppy and uncoordinated until it turns into the pair of you just moaning into each others mouths. Billy adjusts his hips just barely, pressing into your sensitive spot exactly how you need it.

“Right there,” you pant out, “Just like that. Don’t stop!”

Billy whines, rolling his hips harder and deeper. It only takes a handful of thrusts to push you over. A cry erupts from you as you scratch down his arms, back arching while the orgasm crashes through you like a ton of bricks. He kisses you again, swallowing all the sounds you make as he allows you to ride it out. Then, he’s grabbing at your hips again, plants his feet steady on the floor and hammers his hips up at you. He sets a brutal pace, fast and hard. It’s overwhelming, considering how spent you feel from the past two orgasms. The erotic grunts and moans he let out do a lot to dissipate the discomfort, you grab hold of his face again and stay still, letting him use you for his release. His moans get a little higher pitched, a little needier and he freezes, back arching as you feel his hot, thick spunk coating your walls.

“Billy,” you moan weakly, stroking his cheek as you watch his body relax. He hums softly, reaching up to press his palm against your cheek. The two of you stay put until the heat makes itself known again. You pull off of him, watching as his cum drips out of you and onto his softening cock. You kiss his nose softly before wandering into the bathroom to clean up. Billy’s behind you shortly after, kissing your forehead as you sit on the toilet before he splashes his face with cold water.

When you’re finished and follow him back towards the living room, he pulls on a pair of sweats from the pile of laundry you two have been neglecting and reaches for his pack of Marlboros. You follow him to the porch after pulling on a dress and sit with him. He intertwines your fingers after lighting his smoke and stares up at the sky, chuckling softly.

“What?” you ask curiously, peering up to see the grey clouds hiding the blazing sun.

“It’s gonna rain,” he observes and turns back to you, just as a strike of lightning flashes and is followed by a loud thundering. Rain starts pour down onto the yard and Billy’s placing his smoke in the ashtray before picking you up and carrying you out to the grass. You wrap your legs around his waist, giggling as the pair of you are drenched in seconds. Billy presses his lips against yours, deepening it quickly as he tightens his arms around you.

[seat-safety-switch]

The grills have fallen still. After a long and productive barbecuing season, the weather has turned and we now face the grim reality of not being able to cook steak outside for the next six to ten months. A pessimist would say that's okay, because nobody can afford steak anymore. An optimist would say that's not okay, because the grocery store doesn't have as much security over the winter.

My own relationship with barbecue is very complicated. Like some of you, I was raised in a traditional household, where it was expected that the man of the house makes dinner approximately once per year, and only with some kind of outdoor grilling implement. This was always either undercooked or near-burned, and so I never quite "got" the cult of televised grilled food competitions that arrived at the turn of the century, when people were losing faith in the old gods of Iron Chef and looking for a new bandwagon to climb onto.

Perhaps things are different down in the south, where the mild weather means that the outdoor chefs get a chance to char their meat at least twice per year. And they're close to places that have actual spices, so close that it seems likely that by sheer chance, a truck full of jalapeños could crash nearby and flavour the meat with aerosolized peppers while the operator of the grille is distracted by the arrival of the fire department. I don't know for sure, and I don't want to speak to their unique culture of "making food hotter."

For me, personally, the only way to enjoy food cooked outside is on a hot exhaust manifold. Wrap your purloined porkchops in tinfoil, slam them into the nookiest part of the engine's hotside, and go for a drive.

When you're done, the food should be well above safe operating temperature. And if not, the thin film of unburned gasoline and oil coming out of the leaking intake manifold gasket ought to kill whatever bacteria is living in there anyway. Importantly, you get a chance to practice this skill each and every time you are forced by the hostile aims of terminal-stage capitalism to drive to work. It's the fastest way to improve your barbecuing game and amaze the neighbours. And why stop there? When you get a Michelin star, you let me know. I bet you get a discount on tires.

[mushroomates]

the fellowship at a hardware store, from someone who works at a hardware store:

sam: is in the nursery!! goes straight to the discount/dying plants and piles his cart full of wilted and sad plants. likes to rescue the houseplants first, has a soft spot for perennials and citrus trees. is a nightmare to check out but is very sweet about it. dirt and leaves everywhere. like, everywhere. they have to sweep after he’s gone. surprisingly strong and hauls big bags of dirt.

frodo: enjoys home improvement!! likes to wander carpeting and organization, hunts for good deals and keeps tabs on the sales weekends. he likes to peruse the shower curtains and closet accessories. likes to refurbish old furniture he finds off the side of the road- currently fixing up an antique dresser to put in the master bedroom.

merry: doorknobs, handles, dresser nobs. he likes to pick out the interesting and antique ones and customize his home with them. he really likes the oddly shaped ones, he has one starfish and one pickle on his nightstand table. likes to joke about touching all the knobs and fiddling with the knockers.

pippin: is lost in the lighting department. he’s staring up at all the pretty lights and hypnotizing fans. likes the remote controlled lights, enjoys messing with the demos. also likes collecting paint chips. (pippins also the kind of person to get really high and shit in the display toilets.) does not buy anything, maybe some beef jerky and skittles at the check outs.

boromir: this man has like 80 projects going on and is remarkably proficient in every conceivable area featured in the store. he’s here so much people think he works here. he kinda does. he’s happy to advise you, lead you to products, and lifts heavy things for little old ladies and swooning maidens. he’s happy to grab the things on the highest shelf as well as carry those bigs bags of dirt out to your care. he is just a naturally pure and helpful soul. <3

aragorn: has lost himself in scrap wood. straight to the lumber yard, straight to the pile of damaged and recycled wood. once a month, he comes and loads up as much as it will fit in a pickup truck. no one knows what he does with it but he keeps coming back. there are several theories around the store. either he’s building a bunker, has a side hustle by reselling it, makes massive fires or he does wood work. alternatively, he’s a homeless man building his own cabin in the woods so he can live away from society. that’s one’s probably the closest.

gandalf: mixes his own paint. he doesn’t work there but somehow he keeps getting back there and making his own custom colors. was known to pull a miracle and turn gray paint back into white. no one knows how he did this. likes to camp out in the seasonal section. enjoys lounging on couches and swings for long periods of time.

gimli: is so excited to walk into the tools section. wants all the toys. likes power tools in a way that’s both funny and scary. really likes chainsaws and leaf blowers, possibly because they pose the biggest threat to legolas. often gets flagged out the door because no one person needs that many tools and he must be up to something. he always beeps out the door because inevitably someone forgot to take off one of the sensors of his many, many tools. he used to be nicer about this but lately has lost patience with always being stopped out the door, and often will make a show of waving his receipt before leaving.

legolas: spends a good amount of time in the garden. i imagine he gets enamored with the fountains and ponds rather quickly, also likes the statues and fun pots. also, wanders through the garden and samples the plants. by samples i mean eat small bites of it, and if he finds the quality satisfactory he will purchase it. this is rarely the case and he often just goes around eating small bites of houseplants.

[kiefbowl]

this is a random thought I had in the shower actually well over a month ago, but I've been gnawing at it in my brain...and perhaps this is going to sound pathetic and a bit esoteric.

So, it suddenly dawned on me very randomly while I was showering that I have been paying for netflix for my own account since I was a freshman in college. Back in the dvd days, I remember having Firefly sent to me disk by disk my fall semester. This is 2009. It was an important part of college because I let my friends use it on their console and we'd all go to their dorm and watch streaming, and I passed out my log in to a ton of friends. I basically provided free Netflix to more or less 10 or so people over the course of four years for not even $7 a month I think.

What hit me though was that means, this year - that will be 15 years. That's what stopped me in my shower to stare off in the abyss for like 10 minutes and what's been on my mind for the past several weeks. I've been paying netflix for 15 years, which is the longest I've ever done anything. There is no other company I've so consistently paid for like this either, not for that many of years not even close. Quite possibly my longest relationship outside of my family and 2-3 other people. Netflix, the ever constant, of all forsaken things.

And what really bothers me about it is that, uhm, not to be an American consumer but like...I don't feel appreciated by netflix. For the past few years, I've barely used it, except for a few titles I've wanted to watch. I haven't passed out my log in since I changed it not long after college to keep an ex using it for free. I've remained loyal, despite the fact that I don't feel like some sort of loyal consumerist. I don't give a fuck about brands, I try to shop as little as possible, thrift what I can. And yet, what can I say? I actually am a loyal consumerist, to netflix that is.

What a shock to realize this, and what a shock to realize netflix does not acknowledge this, no email saying thanks, no surveys, no swag, no pizza party, no invite no perk no discount no nothing. Instead they raise prices, cut services, lose licenses, and cancel barely finished products. I'm 15 years loyal to this company for this?

And I think about the days of yore, but really not long ago. The preferred shopper's catalogues of department stores, the longtime shopper promotions of industry giants, the award systems for the loyal consumerists of chains and malls. The specialty Christmas items that are today vintage and worth money for their rarity. The thank yous, the special events. The mailers that say "Come to our store loyal customer and receive a free $20 coupon for that day!" And I'm not saying this is good, and of course it's all just marketing and advertisement, and I'm not saying this is the life I want to live...

But I am saying this would be easy for netflix to do, for someone like me. Someone who went from $7 to stream and receive DVDs, who got customers onboard when the model was new and the company was pioneering, to $20 to sit unused but for a month or two out of the year. It would be easy to pull the data. It would be easy to say which accounts have been opened the longest, to actually verify who has given 180 months worth of payments to them. It would be easy to give me a year's discount to say thank you. It would be easy for them to send an email to verify my address to send me merch. Do I want the merch? No, not really. But have they tried?

Have they even sent me an email saying "We appreciate your 15 years of support! We value you!" with little confetti animation? They didn't do it at 10 years. They didn't do it at 5 years. I don't recall ever receiving emails from netflix besides "Unfortunately, our payment model is changing."

As of today, I haven't pulled my account yet. I want to finish Bridgerton, even if this season is a snoozefest. But I think I will. I feel had and used, as pathetic as that sounds. Has Hulu done anything different? I can't remember when I signed up for them but it's been many years. No, but I frankly use it more, so I'm less angry. And with netflix...it's been fifteen years. They have really banked on us being passive in our payments, and accustomed to the freedom of endless choice, and it just feels gleeful that they never even once acknowledged I've been here this whole time. Actually, act like Sears and Bloomingdales 60 years ago, or we quit I think we should say. Ask me my address to send me a glass netflix mug or I'll fuck off, because who do you think you are to think so little of me, the only reason you exist for?