#how do you make a chain restaurant feel even more corporate?

[parme-san]

three cheers for the joy and humanity being sucked out of my workplace little by little

[shooting-love-arrows]

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘

PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 x reader (gender not mentioned/implied/specified); SYNOPSIS: Your first meeting with him was anthing but charming. Especially when he cornered you to the point, where you know you'll have no choice but to submit. TW. implied age gap, manipulation, threatening (?), red flag, power imbalance;

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

"How can I help you, sir?"

"Be my sugar baby."

You blinked owlishly, trying to process what this customer said and if it was on the menu. When in fact it turned out that it isn't and you connected the words and their meaning, you were ready to burst out laughing.

He can't be serious.

Just by looking at him, you can tell he occupies a high position in some fancy corporation. You were even ready to bet that he was a CEO! It was a mystery itself why he was here, in a food chain restaurant in the first place. An enigma why he even said something like that to you, a plain worker who is pretty much opposite in every aspect one could think of.

He is handsome, you give him that. Probably older than you, since his face was more defined and mature. His suit, which you imagned to be tailor-made, colonge that was so strong you could smell it from behind the counter and all the expensive accesories (I mean look at his watch! Worth univesity tuition installment or two!) he had on were probably worth more than what you owned now.

But no, you aren't stupid. Sleep deprived, yes. Hungry, yes. Broke, also unfortunately, yes. But not stupid.

This man must be high then. No other sane and sober and filthy rich man would propose something like that to the (broke) food chain worker during the first meeting.

You took a deep breath, reminding yourself to be calm. He is still your client and you are fighting to be this employee of the month. You can already envision your photo hanging by the cashier and feel the additional money in your bank account. You won't lose your cool now.

Instead, you plastered your best fake smile.

"I'm afraid that's not on our menu sir. Do you fancy something else?"

The man chuckled, as if you told the best and poshest joke known to mankind. Your eyebrow twitched, yet your smile didn't budget.

Calm down...he is high...let him laugh...employee of the month...additional money...!

"You're more amusing than I thought." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 wiped a stray tear from his eye. "Trust me sweetie, I love how you call me 'sir' but that doesn't change the fact that my request still stays. I want you to be my sugar baby."

"I'm afraid that's not possible, sir."

"Ho ho, everything is possible." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 hid his hands in the pocket of his pants. He was staring down at you, like you were the most interesting thing he saw in a long while. You began to feel uneasy and slightly curled into yourself. You didn't like how mischievous his smirk looked.

A beat of tense silence passed, before he spoke again.

"I won't back down, sweetie. You know, I've learned that when you really want something, you should fight for it till you'll achieve it. This situation is no different than a business. I provide you safety and money, while you agree to be mine and fulfill my (every) requests." He finished his speech with a smile worth a million dollars, showing off his pearly white and straight teeth.

"Sir -- "

"After all, you wouldn't want your current life to crumble, hm?" You froze when his expression became sinister and his voice lowered to the point of mocking. In your gut you began to feel dread. You knew this feeling bery well. It appears whenever you sense danger. Currently, this man in front of you was a person who you should be afraid of. One thing for sure, he wasn't lying when he said he can destroy you in a matter of one call.

Money rules the world.

"Your measly, little thing, who believes something will change. That it is just a stepping stone. But what if I make it your prison? Force you to be stuck here until you break under pressure? In the end, you'll still agree to be mine, sweetie. It depends on you if you want to suffer or not."

And destroy those who are too weak and gets crushed under its ruthless rule.

"This choice is yours." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 straightened his back and only now you realized he was holding a sheet of paper. "All you have to do is to sign this..."

You knew you have no choice.

"So pick carefully, sweetie."

All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.

[drdemonprince]

Thousands of people did not just suddenly stop using headphones one day because they felt like it, or because they stopped caring about people with sensory sensitivities like me. No, people stopped using headphones because cell phone manufacturers stopped including headphone jacks in their products. 

My sensory-processing issues are a physical element of my disability that would absolutely still exist in a world without capitalism. Like my poor fine motor control and reduced muscle tone, my sensory processing issues debilitate me: there are tasks I simply cannot perform because of how my body is wired, and this makes me different from most other people in ways that are non-negotiable.  Still, my physical disabilities are worsened quite clearly by capitalism: Because large corporations have both a profit motive and a vested interest in reinvesting those profits into advertisements, and because the internet does not receive public financial support, my daily life is bombarded with bright, noisy, flashing, disruptive advertisements, which makes it far more difficult for me to process relevant information and can swiftly bring me to the verge of a meltdown.  If the internet were funded as a public utility and was therefore not sandblasted in ads, I would be less disabled. If my local streets were less plastered in billboards and littered with junk mail advertising chain restaurants, I would be less disabled. 

Because companies like Apple financially rely upon consumers replacing their phones on an annual basis (despite how unsustainable and murderously cruel continuing to mine cobalt in Sudan for the production of all these new phones is), I must replace my phone regularly. With an updated phone model I lose my headphone jack and have to adapt to a new operating system and layout, and so my sensory issues and executive functioning challenges are exacerbated.  In a world where phones were produced in order to help human beings function rather than to make money, I would be less disabled.  Thanks to capitalism, I cannot exist in public if I am not purchasing anything. I cannot simply be present in a store, coffee shop, or even public plaza, enjoying my surroundings and taking the sight of other people in. I must contribute to the economy in order to justify it. If the brickwork of a nearby building fascinates me and I crave to feel it against my palms, I have to pretend that I wish to buy it, and be prepared to tell anyone who asks that that’s what I intend to do. I can’t even stand on the corner and feel the sun on my face without worrying my neighbors might find it unusual and send the cops.  As an Autistic person, I often can’t fake being a perpetual consumer well enough. My desire to simply elope around my environment and take in new, interesting sensations registers as suspicious or concerningly mentally ill. And so I am further disabled and excluded from public life. 

The full essay is free to read or have narrated to you at drdevonprice.substack.com

[bloodgulchblog]

Halo Cookbook post...

Here's the thing, Halo blog, it would be incredibly easy to dunk on the Official Halo Cookbook. We've all been doing it since it was announced. I certainly have. But here's the other thing, Halo blog: It's October 31st, everything is cold and miserable and wet, and... I don't know.

I just don't feel much like dunking.

The Halo Cookbook, unlike most of what I've been looking at lately, was put together by a single, identifiable author instead of a group. Here's an interview about it. Tl;dr: She loves finding mentions of food in video games, it's genuinely pretty endearing to me. Most of the mentions of food we get in Halo are in background details of a few restaurants, and offhand mentions (usually of things people miss) so there's not much to work with here, and that explains how kind of weird this is as a food book.

(That link also has some of the interior art, which is nice but the kindle format does it no favors.)

The recipes are grouped based on places where its in-universe writer, Arturo, encountered them. The Vending Machines section in particular is pretty funny, but also.... yeah, we're talking about food seen in Halo background details here. So, sure.

You could fill a thimble with what I know about cooking (it's embarrassing honestly) so I cannot really provide much about the food itself, but I do know lore.

So, here's the lore.

Our man is Arturo, who used to work for a large fruit vending corporation. Since retiring, he has decided to write a cookbook collecting recipes he encountered in his travels.

It's pretty wild jumping out of that intro into our first section: World Cuisine (courtesy of Halo: Reach). That's kind of par of the course.

In-universe writing about a chain restaurant on a dead planet, there u have it, folks.

Even the Halo Cookbook recognizes that some of this is also kind of silly:

I'm just giving you guys the section frontpieces and anything I think is mildly interesting.

Solemnly removing my cap for the author trying to figure out how to fit these in:

Good news, we have ANIMAL LORE:

Okay, I'll include the photo of the Obligatory Gamer Fluid

More fast food AND animal lore

Moa, the other red meat

Halo knowledge public CONFIRMED!!!!!

Did you remember Enzo's from Halo 5? Me neither. Honestly I'm always so sad about how much background detail and work went into 5 for me to hate its plot so badly.

Halo knowledge public DOUBLE CONFIRMED!!!

Once again, everyone involved is aware this is silly

Infinite multiplayer makes an appearance:

We're back in vintage Halo town:

Alright, we're on the Infinity now.

Is this a thing? It's cute.

We have a reference to Lasky here, that's a Corbulo Academy flag:

Alright, congratulations, you made it through this with me.

Have a churro.

(If you ask nice and really want, I'll shoot you a pdf.)

[anthonybialy]

Economic Accomplices

Bitching about problems they cause will surely lead subjects to maturity.  Negativity that reflects their own decisions is the specialty of adult children whose tantrums affect everyone else in the supermarket.  You’d think moaning as policy wouldn’t be profitable, and you’d be correct in every life aspect except in politics.  Enjoy the millionth reason to reduce the power of politicians until figuring out how parking meter apps work becomes voluntary.

Everything falls apart when Democrats are in charge, which really makes it hard for them to repair everything.  Take how crime somehow skyrockets when those who obey laws are the only ones treated as criminals.  It’s really unfair that old-timey shoplifters grabbed the few items in stock just when their hobby was legalized.

The economy seems to relapse into addiction every time Democrats indulge their regrettable tendencies.  Utterly cruel corporate raiders made life unaffordable just to spite selfless liberals who they oppose for trying to remove profits.  Accusing demonic sellers of making money off suffering is rich from those who totally don’t have said notion baked in their platform.

Vacant carts and bare cupboards create roominess.  Groceries are for the rich.  An elite item category is brought to you by perspicacious Democrats who thought we were losing perspective.  Wise leaders reduced ingratitude by making everyday items unobtainable.

Diners partake daily despite no food mandate.  Some ravenous types even engage in the tasty hobby multiple times per day.  Thanks to efforts to make life affordable, the multiple meal hobby has become exotic.  People are thankfully more likely to dine today than require medical treatment.  Don’t suggest a right to eat to Democrats who might not get that they’re being mocked.

The human energy acquisition process only became prohibitively costly when everything else did, namely when Democrats decided the cure for poverty was handing out free money.  The item used itself for purchases somehow became less valuable, which you’d think might offer a lesson about things bought with money as well.  Can’t people run on solar?

Smaller portions aren’t merely a path to better health: they’re the only way to also afford a gallon of fuel that month.  Downsizing is a popular trend as seen both in erstwhile ice cream pints and restaurant plates with lots of china visible.  Do you feel thinner?

Fighting obesity the North Korean way has made the Biden era even crankier.  Americans and humans have every right to eat a bag of Doritos that could block out the Sun for dinner.  The health conscious could choose a lesser container, but those with more robust metabolisms don’t presently get the option to indulge.

Consumers never thought about the supply chain before.  Nobody had to on account of how it worked.  The system of responding to needs broke as soon as Democrats decided it needed mending.  A band of meddlers has been punished for their hubris.  The problem with their pushy ideology is that the verdict is inflicted on everyone else, too.  These truly are communal times.

The place with the sleeping quarters and ideally a roof where you presently reside will have to suffice.  The thought of ever buying a home is as incomprehensible as simultaneously owning two bread loaves.  The dream just happened to cease after your kindest politicians did everything they could to make homes affordable.  I blame some cruel conspiracy by diabolical conglomerates to keep customers from having money.

The inability to afford a dwelling or things to put in it is certainly not the fault of a government that has racked up 14 figures of debt.  Involvement in every life aspect only made each of them complicated by coincidence.

Start an education by learning why it’s so costly.  Tuition became suspiciously unaffordable as soon as government decided it must be subsidized to become cheap.  That’s one way to learn about markets.  Universities should offer a class in competition, but they don’t want to cut off their scholarships.  Discovering how the rotten private sector expects results as they seek to protect their cash flow would ruin the whole racket.

It’s important to not notice the pattern of education becoming a struggle once government got involved.  That would count as learning, and what’s the point without earning credits?  Keeping the feds away from education would make students smarter.  Brats can’t get any dumber.

Teach the young people about liberty by removing states and localities, as well.  Private schools only sound snotty.  If paying for school sounds expensive, wait until you hear what free costs.  At least graduates are no smarter.  Public schools are the perfect government institution, which their fans realize is not a compliment if they attended better institutions.

Whippersnapper babysitting services would have to compete without a monopoly provided by the same entity that controls them.  Note who has a problem with your decisions.  The same involved planners who think you don’t know what kind of car to buy demand subsidies to save Earth.  Idling is their plan to make the planet’s existence eternal.

Democrats want start them off wrong young.  Being horrified at the idea of parents paying for their own children is good training for a lifetime of treating the state as a guardian.  Those who are biologically in the same family could savings in taxes, which would allow for donating to schools by pious coercion fans who can’t seem to figure how to click donate buttons.

We should get government as far away as possible precisely because the task is important.  Necessity is the same reason we should allow market interactions between health customers and providers.  Advanced leaders inform us we can’t get by without them hunched over us while moving our hands before telling us we’re bad at it.

[amazythelsblogs]

The Benefits of Teaching Your Children to be responsible and to make their own choices

The three main areas of focus inculde;

- food: teach the child to take conscious action when choosing food products to consume. Food is like energy boosts. It is not neccessary for survival, especially not the processed barcoded sealed in plastic factory produced concuctions that magically find themselves on supermarket shelves each day. 

1. First, learn nature, connect with nature, and form a bond with nature: Encourage children to walk barefoot, or to examine little bugs and plants, to touch trees and to run free in forests. Show them movies like Avatar, Rio, and Moana, to further beautify and heighten the value of nature in their minds and lifestyle. Encourage them to let their imagination and feet run wild, because imagination is our truest and purest form of spirituality.

2. Ask them how they would now feel, if their new friend the river or their big brother the tree, was poisoned with plastic and black gunk spills, or cut down and used for commercial paper or fast fashion furniture. Or, simply cut down for the fun of it. Chances are they will strongly dislike this idea and do even more to better the environment around them. 

3. Read to them traditional and authentic fairy tales, to keep alive the imprint of the past, and simple ways of life, that now appear either ‘aesthetic’ or ‘old and boring’, and encourage them to write imaginiative tales of their own, basd in such beautiful environments or even fictitious environments created by themselves. 

4. When and if absolutely needed, encourage the child through a fun and ;little game’ approach, to find for example 3 things without the funny shiny stuff around it, and to pop those only in the basket. Try to limit their awareness of ultr processed foods and restaurants by simply dismissing them. 

5. Creating such a positive environment in the home, to the point where the outside, consumerist world is but a fleeting whisper, is the best way to encourage children to take care of themselves and of the planet. Not trying, but simply existing, authentically, and lovingly, joyfully. 

6. Try to limit the time they spend in front of the Tv, and playing video games, which overstimulates and exhausts the brain. Turns them into zombies practically. While in th emoment it may seem easier to let them turn on the phone, long term they will just be building an intolerance to anything that distracts them from their cheap entertainment, and will gate keep it to the t. 

7. monitor what they are taught in school, and remind them every day that they are able to make their own choices, that they are free human beings, and that school is a way to guide and keep them safe while parents are at work. 

It honestly breaks my heart, school is the realty and everyone forms their opinion on it depending on their circumstances, and own perceptions of life and how it should be, which is also caused by years of social conditioning, being served on a silver plate, big corporation support, and growing to love your chains. It is wrong, at the end of the day, to separate families. It is like a grand scale holocaust. Separating families, so the parents can go to work, to fund more endeavours, sustain a life that is dependant entirely on a system that drains the spirit, the work till you’re dead mindset, and the horrible misconception that working hard gets you far. 

Nothing gets you far, unless you have rigourously studied the market, the goal, the strategy, unless you have been preparing for your entire life for the moment. And unless you have a strict and specific and precise plan for your mind to execute, you will stay in this cycle forever until you die, hoping that your child going to university and drowning in debt will get you that dream house, or that buying this, or doing that will help in any way. No. You do not want to help a struggling and crumbling situation. If you want to change, you need to rip away the old identity, create a new one based on successful and powerful figures, adapt your mind, or completely transform it, get up, and go. Get up and do the learning, the work and the steps you have already planned out for yourself. You need to stay awake consciously, you need to stay aware fully, throughout your day. As if you are constantly strapped into this body, constantly calculating your next move, and constantly re evaluating the steps you have already taken, what worked, what didnt work. Instead of saving up money to impress your poor trying to be rich friends and getting those sneakers or shopping on that cheapo website for fast fashion junk, build up your savings and view them as a resource for the time that you are aligning with, the opportunity that you are aligning with. If you dont have it at your library, invest in books. Do not tell anyone about your savings or how much money you have ever. They will try to give you advice on what to do with it, and depending on how infulencial, controlling, or trustworthy that person is, you may end up taking it and getting yourself into trouble with your future self. 

For example, letting an elder family member know how much money you received from a birthday or as a gift, they may try to tell you to use that money for things that have served them, but the key is to find ways to make your money grow by itself. 

If your friend has a talent, you may consider investing in it. Tell them, that your buying them some crayons is an investment, for their art business, that when they make a sale, you get some profit out of your initial investment. If you have siblings, catch them out for doing something unproductive in a fun way, and encourage them to partner or group up with you to come up with a fun project, to share the result with the world. Not counting on gaining revenue or recognition, but building team playing skills and experience, bonding with family, and encouraging more effective ways to use everyone’s time on earth.

Time is money, time is your currency, your biggets asset. When you have time, you have everything. 

I understood this very early on. I did everything I could to get out of school to learn, and paint as much as I could, I spent long and tiresome hours in the school library, cramming my head with as much knowledge as possible, using the macbooks to learn music production, using the computers and free printing tickets to write and print transcripts and to print my art, I used the time on the bus to listen to subliminal affirmations, and to learn extra languages, I went above and beyond, and worked hard every day to make the most of my skills and my talents. To the point of burn out and spiritual psychosis, but that is a story for another day. The moral of this, is that life is a story, which I say very often. Just write one that suits you. 

the other two f’s, 

- free time: learning to actively participate in the family, and teaching your kids to have common sense. If you do everything for them, give them food that is already blended for them, and allow them to eat food and play games designed for them, they will be ghetto spoiled. “Designer kids in cardboard boxes”. 

- fitness: to find fun and active ways to spend their time and to be involved in their own health.

Encourage them to read books about these subjects, but do your research before hand, because books are like downloads from other people’s brains. 

Also, teach your kids basics, but don’t teach them to be basic. Teach them to be confident, to be proud and to question everything they are fed.

Bonus:

How to recognise if you are being a dicator. 

[greython6h]

Greython Construction

San Diego's hotel revenue increase over the past few years has been truly astounding when compared to the rest of California. Like the rest of the Golden State, San Diego has no shortage of upscale and affordable lodging options. The hotel and tourist sectors are catered to by one general contractor in San Diego. The hotel industry contributes significantly to the San Diego branch's revenue. It's often overseas San Diego that receives the majority of our focus. Our service area encompasses all of San Diego, including the city core and its surrounding areas.

Hotel renovation companies near me

A good restoration requires knowledge of the owner's requirements and experience in the hospitality sector. Selecting a dishonest business makes you more likely to be disappointed hotel remodeling firms near me Retaining your anonymity will definitely improve your chances of surviving. If they can't suggest any great restaurants in the area, I would look for another hotel. Only a small percentage of candidates have highlighted how important the corporate culture is. Some clubs send invitations to even the most famous people in the world. There will be a lot of events.

Our ability to adapt allows us to work with any hotel chain worldwide. We aim to improve our ability to seize unanticipated chances after we put our plan into action. There are a lot of folks out there offering nearly identical services. We take care of everything—from construction to maintenance to insurance claim filing. They demonstrate their value in numerous instances. It would be useless to compile a list of everything we have accomplished. The commitment and know-how of its employees are the reasons behind Greython Construction's outstanding reputation and track record of success. Overall, these endeavors have yielded positive results as well. Since every member of our staff has a great deal of experience and training in the hospitality sector, you can be sure that you will always be treated with the utmost respect and care. When we build or refurbish hotels, we are prepared for any eventuality. The need for hotel services has increased dramatically as more businesses make refurbishment investments. Their fresh viewpoints on conventional and unconventional hotel maintenance techniques might be beneficial. They move easily between the two settings. The demand has increased dramatically, thus in order to meet demand, we are developing an increasing number of hotel complexes. They are most likely the reason governments and companies are always in need of their services. Envision a future where opulent five-star hotels adorn every corner. An experienced hotel builder or renovator can be a valuable addition to the group. The elderly are best suited for physically demanding professions due to their advanced age and wealth of knowledge and wisdom. This is a situation where quick skill adaptability is critical. I'm great at tailoring my skills to fit different situations.

You may get the quiet time you want when you stay at the Greython Hotel. If you are feeling down, you are welcome to stop by. It seems as though you have reached paradise. The magnificent dining rooms of the Greython are the ideal venue for this kind of occasion.

Hotel renovation companies

One of the hotel's builders emphasized that the improvements had to be completed before the busy season started. If you require any additional information regarding the building of a hotel or other similar establishment, please do not hesitate to contact us. For the firm to survive, this is essential. Thanks to her background in corporate administration, Greython possesses the organizational skills necessary to successfully manage a construction company. She will provide updates on the status of the renovations to the hotel's staff and customers. Our objective is to stay flexible and take advantage of possibilities as they arise while searching the company's database for potential ideas. This is justified by our history of successful partnerships with businesses across numerous industries. We are allowed to pursue any other interests we may have. Thanks to our considerable education and expertise, we have taken on challenging projects and fascinating opportunities. The degree of confidence that people have in our statements drives us to put in a lot of effort. We guarantee that every one of our clients will receive excellent assistance by using this strategy. Remember that by doing this, you are paying respect to the architects, builders, and tenants of the building. When all others had failed, we were able to succeed because of your unwavering support. For our business to operate smoothly, you must be able to accept these terms.

We help hotel owners achieve their long-term goals by fusing our understanding of the construction industry with imaginative hotel design ideas and careful project management. The hospitality industry is going to benefit from this. We have the power to change the direction that the hotel sector takes in any way we like. Our assistance will make it easier for hotels to provide their guests with contemporary amenities. When guests have a wider selection of lodging options, hotel bookings rise. A significant change is about to occur in the hotel industry. The tourist industry's rapid growth makes it a great place to concentrate on fortifying relationships. There might be an exhibit showcasing the organization's history and present-day operations in a recently renovated foyer. Everyone could feel more at ease if the lobby's wall color, carpets, lighting, and fixtures were changed. Guests won't have to worry about going in or out during the repairs because the main door will stay open.

[lilsnowpea93]

I have a few extra things to add to that longpost I made the other day about the typical working experience in America. 1. So, I suppose something I’d super advocate for is something like UBI, or at least funding of the arts of for creative people. The latter is a biased framing ofc. And we do have some safety nets here like food stamps and Medicaid. But I think those could be expanded slightly, especially healthcare. So, note that when I mention funding of arts/creativity, like we do have bigger problems. But arts are also important, and the first stuff to get cut. Anyway. I feel there’s this attitude from more centrist and conservative people I talk to that, if a system like UBI were put in place, it would lead to nobody wanting to work, especially if it was a good program (which won’t happen, like gov giving u a liveable paycheck monthly, they should do that for ppl who can’t work but broadscale it will never happen). Handout this and freeloader that. Cool cool cool. And so, in order for society to function, there are so many jobs that need to be performed, surely. Now, for many of those jobs that are considered more “skilled” and have large large responsibilities and huge consequences for mistakes- people typically go to school for that stuff, or spend years of their lives dedicated to it, it’s their thing they do. They also hopefully get paid well, which is the incentive sure. Also for the “unskilled” dirty shitty jobs that need to happen, employers should pay them well too, incentive. For transparency, I work in this field, but it’s small time. Now, idk if this is specific to me, but a lot of people I personally know, work retail and random stuff like that, (in contrast to those “societal bolster” jobs like being a building planner or whatever). And granted sometimes those overlap, like supermarket jobs. So, I think it’s fair to say that ppl working those retail or service jobs aren’t typically training their whole lives for those positions, they usually don’t love their job (sometimes you’ll hear well off ppl romanticize these types of jobs, get real usually ppl don’t want to do that for their whole life), they may have multiple of these jobs.. I get the sense this is the typical working experience in America? An aside- I’d like to note that the narrative we were all broadly told is that you “work your way up” but, haha no dear that does not happen for many people. “Started in the mailroom” type shit, stop it. Again, temporarily embarrassed millionaire brainwashing (or frankly, 100,000aire) is bullshit, I’m so tired of that. I get frustrated nearly daily how burned into my skull that is. It is a lie. Stop spreading it. It worked for a handful of people, do people understand the size of the workforce? It’s not designed for everyone to win, even a little bit. It’s clearly designed to exploit and make as much profit as possible “ethically” possible. ANYWAY, sorry. So these jobs, hate to say it but a lot of these places super don’t need to exist. They’re projects by big/med sized biz owners or corporations to make money for themselves. These are everywhere, look at all the dumb stores and restaurant chains everywhere. These are your options for pay if u don’t have a marketable specific skill (me included).. Look at all the advertising we’re bombarded with daily. U really think all that stuff is necessary for society to function? No lol. It’s people trying to get rich or rich people profiting. Now I think small one off businesses are cool and typically offer something to the local community, I have nothing against those, unless the boss is horrible and exploiting workers.. but u know what I’m saying? We’re surrounded by pointless shit designed for wealthy people to get wealthier, for us to give our hard earned money to that we got from our annoying unfulfilling job (mines ok, talking about average experience) to buy an overpriced chip bag 75% filled with air because our survival brain decided we need a salty interesting flavored snack and can’t resist. Is this not hell of our own making? My drama queen debut yes yes.

2. This is an obvious point, but I’ve always felt this (even though I’ve historically only worked for non profits I like.) When I clock in to work, I’m taking on the load and responsibility of someone else’s project. It’s like I’m living a separate life. And yes, baggage from my personal life will seep into my professional one, and definitely vice versa (worrying about work shit at home). So, personally, my own “project” is constantly majorly f’d. I have so many things I want to do at home, for myself, for my small projects where I make stuff for other people. Stuff like, I’ve hated my underwear drawer for 10+ years. I need to find out what cut and material of underwear I prefer, because it’s not the generic one. It takes time and research to do that. I do not have that time, and that’s a silly one of the 100 large important “me” projects that I need to eventually do. Stuff that impacts my daily life, like hating my underwear situation every day for 10 years. Every day I get up, and ignore all of that for my survival paycheck. I put me to the wayside, and put someone else’s thing to the front for hours and hours. Thankfully it’s a non profit I like. If it was a bs retail stuff with angry customers, well that would be very bad. But, even not having to work a huge amount of hours, I get home, and I try to work on the projects where I’ve promised things to other people. Sometimes I have to take a nap, and that’s even a privilege. But yeah, I’m tired, sometimes I don’t get good sleep, it happens. Before I know it it’s time to make dinner, time to go to bed, time to do it again. You hear this from countless people who work 9-5. Is this really life? Never actually working on yourself, always having to spend that energy elsewhere? Shirking your own happiness for money, because of survival? No one should have to do that, yet we all do. There are clear penalties to not participating. Poor and homeless people are actively punished. How many Americans are one medical emergency away from getting into this trouble? Point of all this being, we are used to putting ourselves last. Discouraged from even having the time to think about what we need as people. I believe this keeps us less effective and less mentally/physically healthy. This is a byproduct of profit being put over lives, and I would say it happens most to the lower class. Wealthy people can get away with exploiting poor people, because they need the money. Wealthy people romanticize these workers and jobs. The workers want and need the pay, they do not want to work grueling hours. They typically have little power in this relationship though. High capital earners usually do not do the right thing. Landlords do not usually do the right thing. These people are in these positions for easy money, not to be nice (gotta be some exceptions of nice rich people sure sure sure). I’m aware how cynical this comes off but I can’t help it after learning about this topic from multiple angles. I don’t have a good end to this but I’ll likely have more to write about this in the future. I understand this way of life to be broken, and so many people around me don’t, it’s frustrating, and I need to be able to prove why instead of just being like oh this sucks and having them think I’m lazy. People can think that, idc, I know I’m not, eh. But there are reaasssons there are reasons I’m dissatisfied, and believe it could be so much better. And I know other countries are worse cool awesome, it can be better. I don’t have all those answers, but the more I write the more they form, sorta. But I’m a toilet cleaner why would I have anything intelligent to say on this lol, I’m supposed to take what I can get, and I do. I think my opinion also matters though. At least I’ve had time to form this opinion, I could have easily not.

[greython6g]

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[nickgerlich]

Wave As You Go By

I remember to my fleeting days of youth how we paid for things in stores and restaurants. You either had cash, or you handed over a credit card to some guy who then laid it atop a cumbersome manual device. He then slid the arm over your card to capture an imprint—ka-chunk!—and handed you the carbon copy. A few weeks later it might show up on your bill, after much more manual processing.

Later we enjoyed the ease of simply swiping our plastic, be it credit or debit, greatly simplifying and speeding up our transactions. Over-use of your credit card could result in it becoming “swiped out,” meaning the magnetic stripe on the back becomes very scuffed from repeated use.

But in the last few years, the rate of change has magnified. Apple Pay, Google Pay, and others all decided they wanted to be part of the payment eco-system, thereby grabbing a very small sliver of each transaction, but also providing convenience.

Then came tap-to-pay, which makes buying things ridiculously easy, whether in a store or at the gas pump. No need to worry about nefarious people installing credit card skimmers to steal your data.

Then there’s QR-pay, which I use in restaurants whenever possible, since I don’t want to relinquish my card to a total stranger for 10 minutes while they disappear to a hidden place. That’s risky business, and has also resulted in much fraud. Heck, I used QR-pay last night at Walmart, a handy feature of my Walmart+ membership. Talk about being in control, I not only scanned and bagged my own items, but then used my phone camera to pay for it from within the app. Easy peasy.

But wait, there’s more.

Biometrics are rapidly becoming the new cool way to pay. Last fall Amazon-owned Whole Foods announced it was rolling out its pilot program of hand scanners across the entire chain. Now when I go to a Whole Foods—mind you, we will never have one in Amarillo, but I shop there whenever I am in a larger city—I just wave my hand, and off I go.

Sure, it is its detractors, mostly those who contend that Big Data—meaning every big company that collects customer data—already has too much of our information. I reply, “But unless someone has me handcuffed against my will, or has chopped off my hand, this is exceedingly secure.” Your palm print is unique. I know. There is no perfect system, just like someone could have stolen my wallet 50 years ago with its cash and plastic, but I feel good about this.

And now Tencent, the Chinese firm behind their social media site WeChat, is doubling down on palm readers. This is not to be confused with American rapper 50 Cent, and I seriously doubt the Chinese entity has ever rapped. As much as we Americans love to be suspicious of anything the Chinese are doing, I must say they are leapfrogging much of the world with this effort. I recall China having QR-pay when we visited in 2019, and we were left scratching our heads and digging for RMBs to pay our lunch tab. Now they are reaching for the stars.

Tencent sees a hand-waving future in this, and not just for payments. Imagine being able to enter the subway or bus with a simple wave. Opening the front door of your house. Or entering your secure corporate campus and office. Even Google employees today have to “badge-in” and “badge-out.” Badges are so 1990s.

The long and the short of it is that we would not need to tote as many things as we have been doing, such as wallets and keys. I would stop short of saying we won’t need to carry our phone, because that would kind of negate the benefit of having such a handy mobile device. I mean, unless you simply do not want to be reachable.

Once again, there will be a transition period, and the hardware and software expense will be huge up front for businesses and anyone else using it. We just saw gas stations in the US transition to chip card readers (as mandated by law), and only some of those have tap-to-pay. All of that would be scrapped with a palm scanner.

And what of the Luddites who do not want to go along with any of this? My brother still prefers cash, and is loathe to use anything else. Going to pro sports and concerts these days is practically out of the question, because those venues no longer take cash, and ticketing is done electronically via your phone. When he saw me pay for my Whole Foods purchase a week ago in Orlando, he shrugged in a negative kind of way.

So does this mean businesses will have to retain legacy systems for those who do not want to adopt palm scanning? Tough question, because it would be even more expensive for companies. Perhaps what needs to be done is a concerted education effort to convince everyone of the merits of the new way, and demonstrate how that, while nothing is perfect, it is a step closer in the right direction.

Just be careful where and when you wave your hand. You may be paying for someone else’s dinner or groceries.

Dr “Ya Gotta Hand It To Them” Gerlich

Audio Blog

[itcantbechase]

I understand we’re different, I understand some differences will always cause friction, I understand if you don’t want to try and change someone, I wasn’t desperate, I didn’t want to change to keep you, I wanted to enjoy your music and did, We are Mickey and Gus, you were the captain, I wasn’t pretending to like any of it just to appease you, I was open and flexible and you opened up my heart to new possibilities, made me a better parent even tho I don’t even have a kid yet, made me healthier by caring about what I put into my body, made me wiser by listening to music that was deep and meaningful. Yeah I didn’t go to some show back in 2016 with you, sorry I wasn’t in to the same things you were into in high school, if I knew you in high school, there would be no 11 years because I would have tried to lock you down even if we were as different then, as we are now, I knew we were different going into this, and you did too, and the differences shouldn’t matter, because they don’t. The clothes you wear and the music you listen to shouldnt define you, maybe they did in high school but this is real life. You are defined by your beauty, inside and out. Your humor, your kindness. The fact that your such a loving parent to your son. We are the same person because deep down I care about people just as much as you do, i just have a hard time showing it. We literally have the same humor, we both care about our family, we both have the same values and common interests, you just don’t see it. Everything you claim to be different is superficial, when you dig deeper past the bs we are the same, Idc what you say. That’s why I can’t let go, that’s why I’ll always fight, I don’t want to argue but there will always be something to be said. I can’t help how I feel. Me and old boy will never be cool. Me and him can never be friends. It’s only because of what I know about him. How can I lose you to someone like that? Over time we will drift apart because he will force you into not talking to me, he manipulated you into this over the course of a month. Maybe I’m doing the same, or maybe I actually care about you. Maybe this is the hill worth dying on. Maybe you’re actually wrong for once. I know I could have been better, and in time I will become better with or with out you,

'Cause I did love you, and I still do

And how my standard of girls is based completely around you

You gave me the blueprint, I know what to look for in a girl. Maybe I’ll find one one day, maybe she will be cool with me talking to you, hopefully who ever you end up with is cool with you talking to me, I know you say you don’t need permission but you’re too nice of a girl to do something if you know it bothers someone, that’s why you deleted the playlist. In time, I’ll become someone you used to know. I’ll hear anti hero at a corporate chain restaurant and think of you. I’ll make myself an iced coffee right before the gym and think of you, I’ll think of you everytime I go to the west side of town, because we’re so different I never had any other reason to go that way, I’ll think of you any time someone mentions bold bean, I’ll think of you any time my kid gives me shit and I want to choke him like Homer Simpson, I’ll think of you all the time for a long time, and then we’ll get older and I won’t think of you as much, I’ll be reminded of you from time to time and I’ll smile, my wife will ask me why I’m smiling and I will have to lie, I’d much rather not have to lie. Because I would be lying to myself every day saying I’m happy knowing that she ain’t kaitlen. Maybe one day I’ll move on, but I don’t want to move on, that’s the thing.

I still want it to be me and you vs the world, don’t let the world win.

I know this has been a whirl wind,

but I want you to be there when the world ends.

See I’m way more emo than this wanna be, he probably only ever ever got into that shit to try and be cool with you or some other girl, I’m really about that life just like I was when I listened to rap when I was younger. I fought people, I sold drugs, i was a bad person. And after being able to enjoy the love of my life and lose her all in a month, I’m now emo. I don’t want to dress emo, I may not know the lyrics to any songs, but I’m bout that life, I showed up ready to die for you, he ran. I would of spent months in jail for you, I would still kill someone for you if they tried to harm you, that’s about as gangster rap and emo as it gets, and I’m not just saying this shit to try and get you back, I can get hoes, I just don’t want to get hoes. I want you, it’s not because I’m desperate, you are way better than me in every way, it’s because I thought you were my best friend. And because you make me laugh, and because we are the same on the inside, just not the outside. I accepted you for you, I didn’t care about the differences. You shouldn’t either, that’s why I can’t let go. At least not for now,

I been hoping for love just like Mickey my whole life, and hoping for love ruined my life, and I thought that I could be saved by you, but please, let me save you too…

[skamenglishsubs]

Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 1, Episode 2

Episode 2 picks up the morning day after the initiation party, the girls are having breakfast lunch at their dorm, the boys at theirs, and everyone wants the juicy details about what happened at the party...

Culture: Tell me more, tell me more, did you get very far? Although, it's pretty funny how the roles are reversed, Maddie is all "meh" about it, while Nils tells a different story. Then again, since when do you get together after a blowjob?

Culture: I actually have no idea why Simon is having breakfast at Skogsbacken, since regular schools only cover lunch for students, everyone eats breakfast at home, and then goes to school. Then again, it allows a scene where (Never mind, they're having lunch, thanks @kamand !) Blink and you miss it: Wilhelm casts some nervous glances at Simon after having been called out for disappearing at the party and almost forced to confess to making out with someone.

Culture: I know Felice is trying to put August down, but don't knock a proper Swedish pizza! As much as I like living in the US, they can't fucking make pizzas here, and the first thing I eat every time I go back to Sweden is always a real pizza. With pineapple and shrimp as God intended pizza to be made!

Culture: August is namedropping ski resorts in the Alps, which is where you go skiing in Europe if you have money, although Saint-Martin-de-Belleville is actually near Val Thorens in France, while Verbier is in Switzerland. It does have a three-star restaurant, though. Sweden and Norway have a couple of decent ski resorts, but the Scandinavian mountain chain is simply not as impressive as the Alps.

Subtext: Remember Wilhelm getting up and hurrying to math class in the beginning of the scene? It was so he could grab the other seat next to Simon, because he knows Simon is gonna sit next to Sara, since no-one else does.

Culture: Formally greeting your teacher before class is very uncommon in Sweden, but since Hillerska is all about discipline and tradition, of course they do it. Note that they're again using the formal Swedish title for male teachers, Magister, which in a regular school would be kind of a joke, since teachers and students are on a first-name basis with each other.

Subtext: Wilhelm is exposing how the world works if you have money. At Simon's old school, studying alone would result in good grades, but Hillerska is slightly corrupt and almost expects the students to essentially pay for getting a good grade.

Subtext: Simon is lying to his teacher, he absolutely hasn't talked to his parents about paying for private lessons.

Subtext: No, Sara absolutely does care about what other people think about her, and when she directly tells Felice that she would actually like some friends, that's when Felice gets it and starts making an effort to become real friends with her.

Culture: They're all bilingual at Simon's home, they're all speaking Spanish and Swedish, although Linda has a very noticeable accent to her Swedish. Based on demographics and statistics, the most likely scenario is that Linda immigrated to Sweden from Chile, met Micke, and started a family. In real life, Omar Rudberg was born in Venezuela and grew up in Sweden, while Carmen Gloria Pérez was born in New York, and grew up in Puerto Rico.

Subtext: Remember how I talked in the intro post about how distant social classes know nothing of each other? Ayub and Rosh are either working class or lower middle class like Simon, and since rowing is a typical upper class sport, they know nothing of it, they don't even think of it as a real sport. Unlike football, which is a proper working class sport, they know all about that!

Subtext: Scandinavia has Jantelagen, and everyone there thinks it's uniquely Scandinavian, but all countries have some form of Tall Poppy Syndrome. In this scene, Simon is starting to make a class journey, he started rowing, he started trying to fit in with the other upper-class kids, and getting into a relationship with someone as upper-class as Wilhelm would definitely move him all the way. But going on a journey means leaving things behind, which is why Rosh and Ayub are cutting him down and literally turning their backs on him. They like it in the small town of Bjärstad, why can't he be happy there too? Why is he betraying his roots?

Subtext: This comment from August nicely foreshadows a later episode when August does something traceable on a School computer...

Subtext: What August means is that he's not sure Wilhelm has the same desire to be accultured into the upper class, to play the part of a proper prince, in the same way that he and Erik have accepted their roles and are even enjoying them.

Culture: Although it's impossible to read the name of the medicine, the paper tag on the bottle indicates that it's some kind of prescription medicine. From the conversation with Vincent, we learn that it's some kind of ADHD medication, probably some kind of Dextroamphetamine since those improve athletic ability and cognitive functions in healthy people.

Culture: Birkenstock sandals are associated with hippies in Sweden as well as in many parts of the world, so August is actually saying that the school counselor isn't really part of the same upper-class society as the rest of the staff. And again, his use of the word sosse drives the point home.

Subtext: Consequently, the counselor sees right through August and refuses to immediately prescribe him the medication that he wants...

Subtext: ...even though August tries to both bribe him and threaten him into giving him the medication he wants.

Subtext: A big theme of this episode is class journeys, and in this scene and a previous exercise scene, August gushes about how good a thing that is, how proud he is of Simon for going on one, and spouts some crap about how everyone can make it if they really want to.

Subtext: Thankfully, Madison says what we're all thinking: August is full of shit, life isn't fair, and they're only at the school because they were born into privilege.

Blink and you miss it: After Wilhelm has nervously texted his crush for the first time, he starts to bite his fingernails, but quickly stops himself, because why would he be nervous? He's just texting another boy about rowing practice, there's nothing more to it!

Subtext: Simon's texting game is on point though, he knows exactly what he should write to get Wilhelm to go on a totally-not-a-date with him.

Subtext: In the same way that August couldn't convince the counselor about being sick, I don't think Wilhelm's atrocious acting here convinces August that he's sick either.

Culture: Public transport in the greater Stockholm area - or wherever we're supposed to be - is of course cash-less, and you pay by either charging a special card, or by signing up in their app and buying tickets through there. The point of this scene though is to drive home how Wilhelm has never ever had to take the bus before in his life, and therefore has no idea how it works.

Culture: The totally-not-a-date starts at a Circle K, which in Sweden is just another gas station, but it is actually a Canadian multi-national convenience store corporation. The price of gas is of course posted in kr/l, and 13.98kr/l corresponds to roughly $6/gal.

Subtext: Throughout the totally-not-a-date, Wilhelm is trying to reach for common ground with Simon, trying to show him how he's just a regular guy...

Subtext: ...but then real life intrudes, Wilhelm is recognized by some local girls, who call out to him and run away giggling, which shows how he's not a regular guy, he's going to get recognized wherever he goes.

Culture: Kokt eller grillat, boiled or grilled, are the two ways you can get your hot-dog at pretty much any hot-dog place in Sweden, and ketchup and mustard is always offered. The correct answer to this question is of course grilled, with ketchup and mustard, and this just shows that Wilhelm is a man of culture and good taste. Unfortunately, they were out grilled ones, so they all got boring soggy boiled hot-dogs instead. Is there a metaphor here? I don't know.

Subtext: Again, the show drives home the point that absolutely no-one has a problem with people being gay. Simon is clearly out to Ayub and the rest of his friends, and Ayub immediately picks up on the fact that this is totally a date.

Blink and you miss it: Ayub nudges Simon with his elbow to tell him that he should make a move on Wilhelm.

Culture: What we're looking at is just the local junior/high school football team, Bjärstad, playing a match against some other unnamed junior football team. Since the stakes are super low, the audience basically consists of whichever parents and friends of the players that could be bothered showing up.

Culture: Driving age is 18 in Sweden, and even then getting your own car at that age is extremely uncommon. However, you can easily get a license for a moped when you turn 15, so these are the vehicles of choice for teenagers to get around.

Subtext: August found out about Wilhelm's trip to town, but his main problem with it is that he wants Wilhelm to stop slumming it with lower class people, and to start hanging out with everyone at school instead, so that he can be properly accultured into the upper class. Again, sosse in this context means working class, not socialist.

Subtext: Although Simon felt really great about his first date with Wilhelm, the text message reminds him that Wilhelm isn't a regular person, and that even this innocent little trip generates interest and scrutiny, and can't be posted publicly.

Culture: As everyone should have noticed by now, Madison keeps speaking English, while everyone speaks to her in Swedish, so clearly she understands it. But here she gives her motivation for sticking to English, and that is that she doesn't feel she's good enough at speaking Swedish. Boarding schools like Hillerska attracts international students that have some kind of connection to the country, so a likely scenario is that Madison grew up in the US with a Swedish parent, and she's being sent here to experience Swedish culture and get immersed in the language to learn it better.

Cinematography: This shot of August drives really home all the pressure he is under, he's out of drugs, the headmistress just hinted that he's out of money, and he's literally being weighed down by books and work-out weights.

Subtext: Simon has kept his visits to Micke a secret from Sara, so here he has to intervene to make sure August doesn't accidentally reveal this to her. He also wants to protect his sister, so he's redirecting August's search for drugs onto himself.

Subtext: And on the flipside, Simon isn't really telling his dad that Sara still hates him and really doesn't want to see him, so he's vague when Micke asks about Sara and Linda.

Culture: Finally a bottle of medicine where we can read the label! Unfortunately for Simon, this is Tramadol, an opiate prescribed for pain relief, which is the complete opposite of the kind of drugs August wants.

Subtext: If you haven't figured out yet that this episode is about class journeys, August spells it out for us here. However, the reason he's "congratulating" Simon in front of everybody is because Simon just supplied him with more drugs, so this is his way of thanking him, since he can't really pay him.

Blink and you miss it: For a split second, Wilhelm grabs Simon's leg during the scary scene.

Subtext: The entire dialogue of the movie works as subtext for what's actually going on between Wilhelm and Simon at this point, and Wilhelm is getting a little freaked out by this sneaky display of affection.

Subtext: The movie also puts words on the implications of Wilhelm getting together with a boy, what about having kids in the future? Can you carry on your family name and traditions, or will they die with you?

Lost in translation: The plaque actually says "FEEL YOUR RESPONSIBILITY FOR THE HERITAGE". Even though the plaque means the heritage and legacy of the school itself, Wilhelm is thinking about his legacy, his heritage, and how getting together with Simon would threaten that.

Lost in translation: Wilhelm actually says "jag är inte en..." - "I'm not a..." before he stops himself. So it's not possible that he was trying to say "I'm not gay", because that doesn't work grammatically in Swedish either. He could be trying to say "I'm not a guy like that" or "I'm not a guy who likes guys", that would work.

Cinematography: The framing and silhouetting of this shot is just chef's kiss. The outline of their hair allows us to see who is who, and we can see from their poses that Simon is welcoming a kiss, while Wilhelm is still hesitating.

[smilesvt]

honey muffins | pt.1

pairing: seungcheol x reader

genre: fluff, suggestive, possible angst later on,,

warnings: slight suggestive but nothing smutty!

summary: a stranger who catches your eye leads to a swirling discovery of your fates. will you succumb to the forbidden love that lies between you?

‘You know we shouldn’t be doing this right now Cheol.' You whined, hands pushing against the mans broad shoulders.

Yet your complaints made him even more riled up. The fact he could taste you when he wasn’t supposed to made the adrenaline rush faster through his veins, the sounds of your sweet voice echoed in his mind and filled him with even more desire.

'Says who?' he whispered, his lips like shadows of your own, his soft breath seeping into your very self.

You had never wanted something so bad, to feel his lips against yours as he whined into your mouth, helplessly and at his very edge.

But you had self control.

And you would never let your desire get a hold of you.

~~~

You mustered the energy left in you to fully shove the man away, however his strong hands still gripped onto your sides.

'You know exactly who.' you sighed, as if you hadnt had this same conversation with him plenty of times before. The man scoffed, looking away with his tongue pressed firmly in the side of his cheek.

'Seriously? That’s all you can think of right now? Whilst you have that pathetic look in your eye thats practically begging me for more? Don’t make me laugh.'

Cheol had never got angry at you; and he wasn’t about to now. But the tinge of annoyance mixed with desperation hidden in the depths of his voice made you feel slightly guilty.

'Fine.' You managed to speak out, your voice calm and steady, yet your eyes looked down at your lap, unable to make eye contact with the man.

'Do what you want with me. Anything and everything. But you know what risk that comes with. Is it worth never seeing me again for a night of pleasure? I would hope I mean more to you than that.’

His hands fell from your waist and onto the cold kitchen counter you were sat on.

‘Of course you do. You know that.’

‘Stop coming so close to losing me then.’ You poked at his chest, and tilted his head up to look at you.

He smiled, but it didn’t seem to reach his eyes.

——

Yours and Seungcheol’s families had never liked each other. It was a decades long feud, started when your great great grandfather opened a restaurant with his best friend, Seungcheols great great grandad.

The business had a slow start, what with the two men only being teenagers when they started selling their food to local people in the town. Little did they know, over the years, their seemingly perfect business would gain traction all over the country and earn them more than ever expected.

But as with most co-owned businesses, one half of the duo would become increasingly greedy, wanting more than the other.

And so the feud started. Seungcheols family had accused yours of stealing money from the joint bank account, and the business relationship crumbled.

Your great-great grandad opened his own bakery chain, specialising in his favourite, muffins: whereas Cheols turned his into a patisserie.

Fast forward to now, both of the families had stores around the country. You would have thought, what with the huge amounts of success from the two businesses, the family beef would have been quenched. Yet both of your families were stubborn: refusing to ever apologise or simply even acknowledge the other’s existence, despite walking past each others stores nearly everyday. And thats when you and Cheol came into the mix.

~~~~

You remember that day as clearly as if it were yesterday.

3 years ago, sometime in December, a fairly handsome man had walked into the bakery whilst you were working.

His beanie was pulled down low, with a few strands of espresso coloured hair peaking through. However the casual headwear contrasted the grey suit he was wearing, a burgundy tie pulled down in exhaustion and shiny black shoes at his feet.

You had had many weird and wacky customers walk in during your part time shifts at the family bakery (you worked in the heart of the city after all, weird was practically the usual) but something about this man had struck you. Your eyes had followed him as he perused around the store, occassionally stopping and observing the packs of bread. He looked way too interested in the baked goods, and you smiled to yourself as you looked down at the book you were reading.

'Excuse me.' A deep voice as smooth as honey had spoken from the other side of the counter. You quickly stood up from your stool and walked over to the till.

His golden eyes met yours over the rim of his thin gold glasses, with a sweetly intense gaze.

'How can i help you?' You had smiled at the man, your customer pleasing voice hiding your slight nerves.

'I was wondering, say you had a date coming up, and they really loved bakeries and such, what would you treat them to?'

The question had taken you aback, and he smiled as he noticed you pause to think of an answer.

'Well I’m personally a sweet sort of girl, so I would probably subconsciously choose something dessert like. A good neutral choice would be a muffin of some sorts-' you glanced over the array of treats that lay on the counter in front of you. 'I’d strongly recommend the blueberry honey one, it’s sweet yet not too overpowering, but I guess it’s all down to their personal preference.' You looked back up at the man, who flashed a warm smile at you.

'Perfect. I’ll take 2 of those then.'

---

It had been the day of your graduation when you decided to treat yourself to the slightly boujee patisserie down the road from your bakery.

Seungcheol remembered it as clearly as day.

The bell at the front entrance had jingled as a familiar girl waltzed through, a bright smile plastered on her face. He instantly recognised her; the pretty one from the bakery just up the road. She seemed to have recognised him too, as she slightly bowed her head towards him as she walked over to the till.

'How can I help you on this fine day mademoiselle?' he had questioned, taking the girl aback as she slightly giggled.

'Well I was wondering, say you had a person you wanted to impress and they really liked sweets, what would you treat them to?' He smiled at the words coming from her mouth, the ones that mirrored his own.

He gazed upon the small crescents your hazel eyes made as you laughed, a warmth seeping through his body.

His heart had never felt that way before.

---

From that day on, Seungcheol visited your store more often than he would like to admit. Sometimes he wouldnt even buy anything, he just wanted an excuse to be able to speak to you.

When the shop was filled to the brim with customers, he would simply wait at the end of the long line and you would smile at how stubborn he was.

~~~

'Its raining and you still stood out there.' You sighed as he shook his wet, curly hair in front of you. 'Worth it.' He flashed you his comforting gummy smile and your heart burst into smithereens.

'No work today?' You asked, looking down at the mans grey sweats and oversized hoodie, a backpack strewn over one shoulder.

'Fortunately not. There’s only so much pretentious business ladies in pencil skirts buying mille-feuille that I can handle.’

'I can imagine.' You sighed, glancing out at the thousands of raindrops hitting the shop window.

'At least its your day off tomorrow.'

You smiled internally: he knew your work schedule probably better than he knew his own.

'You might as well get something since you were stood out there for so long.' You started, opening a brown paper bag and waiting for the mans response.

'Hmmm...Is this new?' He pointed through the thick glass of the display.

You giggled. 'I’m glad you noticed. It’s a little something new we’re trialing, made by yours truly.'

'You shouldn’t have said that, I’ll end up buying the whole stock for you.'

'Don’t be stupid.' You chuckled, handing him the treat over the counter. 'Get going you idiot, I have to clean up.'

He took the bag with a smile. ‘I’ll see you soon, and let you know how good it tasted.'

---

Yet you never did see him soon.

The man stopped turning up after his shifts finished, he stopped waiting behind the long lines of customers. You would catch yourself staring out of the shop window, waiting-or maybe,hoping- to see a familiar mess of jet black hair pop into view, a gummy smile that made your heart burst, an outstreched hand waving excitedly at you.

But you never saw it.

'Are you expecting someone?' Your mother had asked you one day, when the shop was calm and empty, shaking you out of your daydream.

'No, why do you ask?' you wondered.

'You keep looking out of the window as if someones meant to be there.'

You nearly sighed, running a hand through your hair.

'It’s fine, just bored.'

‘Well the banquets tonight, hopefully you wont be bored there.'

The banquet had slipped your mind. It was a fancy dinner for corporate directors of companies around the country. Of course, you and your family had been invited. You knew your mom was hoping for you to meet some handsome rich man; she was always asking when you were ever going to get with anyone.

It was dumb you thought, constantly thinking of the man from the patisserie. You knew nothing about him, just his name and where he worked. Other than that, his whole existence was an enigma. That’s why it hurt when he stopped visiting, because you couldn’t even call him to ask what was up, or visit his home to check in.

He was a mystery man.

Then why did you care so much?

---

The truth was, Seungcheol wasn’t allowed to come see you. As he walked into his house, munching on the chocolate tart you had so carefully handed him, he couldn’t wait to tell you how good it was.

'Are you actually being serious?' his younger brother had said to him as he walked over to the fridge.

'What is it?' he turned around, chocolate circling his mouth.

'That’s from THEIR bakery... oh you are in so much trouble when I tell dad.' His brother ran off in the direction of their fathers study.

Dumbfounded, Seungcheol wondered. What was wrong with the bakery? It was just a local joint, surely no place his father would have any issue with.

However, as he turned the brown bag around to see the logo adorned on the front, he nearly dropped the tart.

There was no way.

No way he had fallen for someone he couldnt have.

----

So when you saw your parents disgusted faces as they looked at the family on the opposite side of the banquet hall, and your eyes fell upon a disgruntled Seungcheol, you had to stop your jaw from falling open.

It suddenly made sense, why he had seemingly ghosted you for weeks. His family mustve found out about him seeing you at the bakery.

His eyes met yours as you sat down at your table, and you swore you saw them light up.

You weren’t going to give up on this mystery man just because of your parents.

-

So fast forward to now, nearly 2 years later, where you were sat on your kitchen counter, the now not so mystery man in front of you.

Over the years, you and Cheol had been secretly hanging out without your parents' knowledge. You thought it was dumb, how the two of you, both adults with stable jobs and social lives, were meeting up in secret like teenagers hiding a relationship. Yet you knew if either of your families were made aware of this, they would do anything to stop it.

‘I’m sorry.' The man breathed out with a heavy sigh, his eyes suddenly glistening with the type of glow you hated to see. 'It’s okay.' You replied with a soft smile, patting the top of his head. You were used to this, Cheol getting too ahead of himself and apologising like a child getting caught stealing sweets.

It wasnt like he had never felt you before, the hotness of your skin against his hands as he ran them down your arms, your spine, your legs was something he knew well.

He had had all of you: apart from one place. Your lips.

You knew if your lips ever grazed upon his, you could never go back. And as much as you wanted it, as much as your body was craving it, you knew of its consequences.

'I’ll get going now.' He whispered, pushing himself away from the counter and picking up his suit jacket from the sofa.

-

You leant against the corridor doorway, watching the man pull on his dress shoes.

'See you tomorrow then? I’ve got some new cupcakes coming in that I think you’ll like.'

His ears shot up at the sound of sweets, and you giggled.

Some things never change.

He kissed the top of your head before opening your front door.

'See you tomorrow muffin.' he smiled, before walking out and closing the door behind him.

And everytime you saw his back in front of you, you hoped it wouldn’t be the last.

~~~~

a/n: ahhhh this is my first ever fic on here so if anyone reads this- which honestly im not expecting much- i hope you enjoyed, heres to many more xo

[route22ny]

    Politicians and pundits often like to compare the COVID-19 pandemic to a war. Nothing in most of our lifetimes has had the society-changing impact of the COVID-19 pandemic — and this kind of feels like the way that our parents say their parents described the Great Depression or World War II.

    But World War II ended in a singular moment. Treaties were signed and people rushed into the streets in jubilation. The COVID-19 pandemic, which has plagued our lives for the last 14 months, won't end in a singular moment. There'll be no major "pandemic peace treaty," no all-out party. Perhaps, at best, there'll be a bunch of little ones. And that forces us to ask: How will this end?

The virus isn't going to disappear.       

   Our vaccines are incredibly safe and effective. For those who are vaccinated, they are a ticket back to "normal" life. Indeed, though rushed and poorly messaged, the CDC's guidance allowing vaccinated people to go unmasked both indoors and outdoors is based in strong science. Evidence has demonstrated that the risk of serious infection in the real world is astoundingly low, and that the viral load in the nasopharynx of vaccinated people is lower — likely explaining the reduced risk of transmission.

    Yet, some people aren't getting vaccinated. And worse, the distribution of vaccinations isn't even. If, for example, unvaccinated people were evenly distributed in the population, the probability that they would be exposed to the virus if 70% of eligible people were vaccinated would be quite low. After all, 70% of the people around them would be vaccinated and therefore far less likely to pass the virus on. That's how herd — or community — immunity works. The problem though is that just like the virus itself, the behavioral scourge of vaccine rejection spreads from person to person in localized communities. So those who are unvaccinated are more likely to live among others who are unvaccinated, increasing their collective probability of infecting each other.

    The likely scenario is that while communities with high vaccine uptake will get to a point where outbreaks are small, self-delimited, and rare — other communities that remain poorly vaccinated will continue to experience larger, more common, and more deadly outbreaks. And the virus will remain a looming concern in the U.S.

    The other issue is viral evolution. New seasonal variants will likely spread among us every fall and winter akin to seasonal flu, which kills tens of thousands of Americans every year. Some COVID seasons will be milder, some far deadlier. And just like the flu, we'll likely need annual boosters against it.

    Some things change.                                      

    But the virus isn't the pandemic's only ingredient — just the foundational one. For people who never got sick, COVID-19 still changed their lives. There is, of course, no singular pandemic experience. For millions of low-income "essential" workers, the pandemic meant fearing every day that you might be infected at work, or worse, bring the virus home with you to infect someone you love. For millions of healthcare workers, the pandemic meant watching your patients die without their loved ones as you struggled to manage the overflow. For others privileged enough to work from home, the pandemic meant endless days of Zoom calls while your kids tried to learn across from you at the dinner table.

    As I wrote previously, work from home is going to be a much more common feature of American life. Small businesses, major corporations, and even some government agencies have found that their workers are surprisingly productive from home — and have reconsidered plans to come "back" to work in the office. And workers themselves have found they like using their own bathroom and eating out of their own fridge at lunch.

    Indeed, as many workplaces begin to plan to come back to the offices, workers are pushing back. After Apple CEO Tim Cook sent a note to Apple employees requiring them to be back in the office on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays beginning in September, Apple employees circulated a letter in response:  

    "We ask for your support in enabling those who want to work remotely / in location-flexible ways to continue to do so, letting everyone figure out which work setup works best for them, their team, and their role — be it in one of our offices, from home, or a hybrid solution. We are living proof that there is no one-size-fits-all policy for people. For Inclusion and Diversity to work, we have to recognize how different we all are, and with those differences, come different needs and different ways to thrive. We feel that Apple has both the responsibility to recognize these differences, as well as the capability to fully embrace them. Officially enabling individual management chains and individual teams to make decisions that work best for their teams roles, individuals, and needs — and having that be the official stated policy rather than the rare individual exceptions — would alleviate the concerns and reservations many of us currently have."

    Other companies, like Dropbox, have preempted this demand simply by offering work from home options permanently.

    Beyond employee preference, companies attempting to go back to a brick-and-mortar office space will face the question of risk tolerance. As we well know, some eschewed any sort of pandemic protection — be it a mask or a vaccine — from the jump. Others, despite being fully vaccinated, remain hesitant to share enclosed space. How to navigate lower risk tolerances remains a serious challenge. Part of making workplaces safe may mean mandating vaccines, which has prompted serious pushback in the courts of law and public opinion by anti-vaxxer activists who want to use the pandemic as another line of attack. Navigating these challenges is, in part, what is pushing more and more employers to offer alternative working arrangements. Needless to say, some alterations to working conditions because of the pandemic are likely here to stay.

    Other things stay the same (again).                                      

    Some pandemic experiences were universal. For children, the pandemic has been a catastrophe. Not only has learning lagged, but children have been robbed of valuable socialization and milestones. Indeed, the consequences have been far worse for poorer students, disproportionately children of color, for whom access to quality WiFi and reliable computers are limited. All indications suggest that kids will be back to school in the fall as vaccinations among teachers and students press on.

    Access to other people and the venues in which we enjoyed their company was limited if available at all. Restaurants, concert venues, theme parks, theaters — even stores and shopping malls — had limited access.

    But that's changing. Prompted by the CDC's new guidelines for vaccinated people, many of these venues have rushed to reopen, and Americans are slowly but surely taking advantage. Flight traffic is increasing. Last week, LAX, one of the country's busiest airports, logged a 2021 record. And businesses can't hire people fast enough to accommodate their needs.

    Though worries about COVID-19 exposure — particularly for children who cannot yet be vaccinated — persist. Yet as cases continue to fall, and vaccines are approved for younger and younger children, these, too, will subside.

    The doomsday scenario.                                      

    But there remains a possibility that experiences of the pandemic we haven't had since last fall come crashing back. Cases climb, hospitals fill up, and thousands more Americans die. And that's a resistant strain.

    We've now identified several variants of the virus that are more transmissible, and some more deadly, than the original garden-variety ("wild type") virus we experienced through most of 2020. Thankfully none of them have fully evaded our vaccine-mediated immunity. Yet.

    Every single unvaccinated person presents an evolutionary opportunity for the virus. And even as the U.S. and other high-income countries approach a virus-stifling level of vaccination, the rest of the world continues to lag. Some countries have yet to get their first vaccines. New variants with frightening capabilities continue to emerge in these countries. Indeed, last week a new variant with aspects of the Alpha variant and the Delta variant emerged in Vietnam. So even as vaccine manufacturers roll out boosters to protect against the growing plethora of new variants, a doomsday scenario, where a more transmissible, lethal variant evolves, becomes more likely.

    And so, we can't take for granted that this is a truly global pandemic. And until the rest of the world receives what they need to "end" this pandemic, we won't see our end either.

***

    Dr. Abdul El-Sayed is a physician, epidemiologist, public health expert, and progressive activist who served as Detroit's health director and ran for governor in 2018. He is the author of Healing Politics: A Doctor's Journey Into the Heart of Our Political Epidemic and Medicare for All: A Citizen's Guide, as well as the newsletter The Incision. Get more at incision.substack.com.

[fanficparker]

A GAME OF DIAMONDS AND HEARTS // H.O.

>> CHAPTER THREE

"The Gates of hell are open night and day, smooth the descent, and easy is the way..." - Aeneid, Virgil

(Frenemies to Lovers! Mob AU! ) Harrison Osterfield x Fem!OC

Word count: 2.17k words

Warning: Swearing, gun violence, car chase, full on action, cool dudes, anxiety and fluff in case you forget to blink ;)

Synopsis: After the sudden death of his uncle and the eccentric multi-millionaire mafia king Lufian Clarke, Harrison Osterfield’s almost decent life is mostly devastated especially when half of what should be rightfully his fortune is transferred to their immediate rival for reasons he doesn’t know. What’s remaining is him trying to figure out how to deal with this collaboration of two rival corporations that don’t belong together and work on the side of the woman he never knew would ever be referred to as his partner in crime while they are dragged into a mess bigger than what they were trained to handle.

A/N: The amount of time I waste on making these moodboards-- (I literally coloured the black and white pictures 💀 )

<< TWO [ MASTERLIST ] FOUR >>

A moment passed.

A shallow gust of wind tickled Harrison's left ear, making him squirm. He leaned back, pulling his rolled up sleeves down and buttoning them at his wrist followed by pressing the creases on his shirt—a habit of his, a ritual he can't seem to put away even when there was a sniper aimed at his head.

Worse. All this could be a trick.

Worst. It wasn't.

All in all, time wasn't the currency, Harrison had at his disposal. Yet, he found himself shoving a penny straight into the slot machine.

He cleared his throat in a failed attempt at clearing his foggy mind, "Don't you think, you shouldn't have let go of Tom?"

The more men, the better chances of survival. It worked this way, right?

Sandhya sighed, exasperated, the flicker of the candle animating a dance on her face was seemingly more lively than her at the moment.

"We suspect, at least one of your men were involved in Clarke's murder. Also," She paused, chuckling nervously, "I won't lie, I was expecting something like this to happen but not today, not right now." She referred to the rifle aimed at them.

"I am seriously...uh... ugh..." Harrison didn't know if there were proper words in the vernacular to reply to this. All he could do was grit his teeth.

How long will this day go, anyway? What was it? The solstice? Do solstice last this long?

In his prognosis, if he had one more revelation this day, especially if it had something or anything to do with the dead man, his brain would melt and leak out of his ears. On the non-fictitious scale: He would rip off his hair or empty a loaded .44 magnum into the head of the person closest to him.

But there were his men involved in Clarke's murder? His men?

And their respectable leader, Harrison Osterfield was trapped in a life and death situation, waiting for a can of smoke to allow him to escape? And on top of that, he was taking orders from one of their enemies?

What if it was her plan? What if she killed the old man? She had inherited his fortune— it was enough of evidence for Harrison to draw that conclusion even in its scant or flimsy state. He won't be surprised if she wanted him dead as much as he wanted her to be. Or that the sniper was one of her men. Or everything happening was a part of her bigger plan.

He had a pistol tucked away in his sock, maybe he could catch her at gunpoint?

The instant he glanced at the mirror of her flapjack, she had placed between them, he discarded the idea. No avail. The sniper could easily target him.

He was fucked up.

He could hear his life ticking away.

A click of tin hitting the floor ignited the dying flame in his heart. He felt Sandhya's hand slip over his, delicate fingers tapping against the back of his hand, gliding over his square signet ring that was sitting on his middle finger for ages now, moving further away to feel his rough, wounded knuckles, he never seemed to care about.

She appeared as afraid as him. Or maybe it was part of her plan. Harrison wasn't sure if it was the mutual fear they felt or the gesture, the little ministrations she drew over the back of his hand that had managed to ease his nerves, at least for the time being. His eyes swerved up, locking with hers again, her lips forming the words he was waiting to hear.

"Now!" She screamed on the top of her voice, retracting her hand as the smoke leaked out of the can, suspending itself into the air.

Harrison leapt on cue, ducking below the table. A single shot hits the wood of the chair, he was previously sitting on.

He tried to make the best use of the blindness that the grey smoke offered, pulling the table cloth in a swift motion. The wine and the lit candles fell over the fabric, igniting a fire. The flames and the smoke rose quickly, fanned by the stiff breeze, consuming the Pinterest worthy setting in a matter of seconds as he watched Sandhya's shadowy figure hopping off from the other side of the balcony, her red heels discarded by the decorated flower pots.

In a heartbeat, the fire alarm goes off followed by another shot. The people eating in the restaurant shrieked almost simultaneously as the second shot is wasted, their screams never subsiding as they run around, knocking over things, trying to get the hell out of the building.

Amidst the mist, Harrison grabbed the railing of the balcony, hopping off it, climbing down as promptly as he could, hearing more bullets fire on the place he just abandoned.

His planned smooth landing on the freshly mowed grass goes awry as he stumbles, falling over his knee in an attempt at dodging a shot that went over right his head, almost touching his hair.

There were more gunmen. His expressions were that of horror.

He quickly rose to his feet, pulling the pistol tucked in his sock out, looking around and over his shoulder before squeezing the trigger twice.

A man dressed in the waiter's attire fell from the first floor along with his rifle, hitting the ground, crumbling next to Harrison's feet, presumably dead.

Harrison didn't check. He was sure.

Aim. He was good at it. Way too good.

He paced his way with the pistol pointed downrange, pulling the slide back with his thumb and forefinger to the street full of chaos with people running in all directions, fire alarms blaring in the background. A maroon sedan stopped abruptly in front of him, a quarter of an inch away from hitting him and transporting him directly to hell.

He opened his mouth to swear but the driver was the first to flung the door open. He had red-brown shaggy hair, probably a result of the wind and was dressed in a grey trench coat with the belt undone. His eyes were hidden behind black wraparound mirror shades, hiding most of his face.

The only thing that sparked Harrison's interest was the shotgun poorly concealed inside his coat.

"Get in." Two words, another order. The driver was definitely way older than him, he could tell by his deep, rusty voice. The driver pushed the long barrelled gun in his direction.

Harrison groaned, shoving himself into the passenger seat, accepting the new weapon, discarding the smaller gun and shutting the door behind him.

"Where is she? Where is Sandhya?" Harrison demanded, looking over at the back seat, his frown deepening into a scowl but the driver popped the car into reverse and stormed the accelerator, hard, sending him flying backwards, his back hitting against the backrest.

"She'll meet us halfway." The driver replied, his eyes never leaving the road. Harrison settled himself on the polyester seat, taking a breath before the car took a sharp turn, almost knocking his head against the window.

"Watch out!" The driver warned and Harrison peeked at the rear view mirror.

A black Escalade SUV lunged towards them at a speed higher than theirs. At least four passengers were sitting in it, two of them pushed their heads out of the windows, hands holding shotguns, aiming a shot at the vehicle he was sitting in.

They ducked down, both Harrison and the driver evading the bullets fired at them. The rear windshield blew out with a boom and a crash, spraying glass over the unoccupied backseat.

Enough.

Harrison slid his window down, ducking again when more bullets were shot at them, before aiming straight to the front tire.

He fired one— two— three shots, one followed by the other. The third one successfully hits the wheel. He watched with a triumphant grin pasted over his face as the attacker's car tumbled, crashing against the telephone pole, now motionless.

But his grin didn't last long when they crossed the intersection. Two more cars emerged from the two sides, the same model as the one he had just shot down.

The panic was real this time. He could even hear police sirens.

What the actual fuck?

"We need to hurry!" Harrison instructed, restless in his seat, watching the black SUVs and the white police cruisers, red sirens blazing on their head, racing behind them.

It was a real chase.

They zoomed through the street, feeling alternately light and heavy as they shifted in their seats, leaning right and left as the roads forked as they sailed through the busy traffic, ignoring the honking cars, even honking themselves. The buildings, streets and the traffic began to blur as they raced down, veering frantically to avoid their pursuers.

A ray of hope: Another intersection. The signal was three seconds into turning red.

Perfect.

"You can do this..." Harrison whispered like a prayer, eyes glimmering with hope, focusing more on the road than the man operating the steering he knew nothing about, except for his remarkable prowess as a getaway driver.

You can do this!

The driver panted, breathing with his mouth as he puts the car into the sixth gear, pressing the accelerator as hard as he could, flooring the sedan through the blinking signal, it turning red the exact moment they tear through it.

The pedestrian cars came to a halt upon the red signal, breaking hard, forming a chain, successfully blocking the way of both the attackers and the cops.

The driver barked out a laugh, the type falling more into the category of a chortle than an actual laugh (not that Harrison cared), taking off his shades, shoving them inside his coat, a proud smile plastered on his face as he weaves from lane to lane, disappearing under a bridge, finally stepping on to the much calmer highway.

"Kevin." The driver muttered.

"Huh?" Harrison responded with a questioning look. The guy was at least fifty-five years old, Harrison could tell now. His natural grey hair stood in contrast with his dyed copper ones, adding to his overall charm. His adventurous demeanour has previously mistaken him for being any younger.

Stretching a left hand, "My name is Kevin," the driver clarified, his light brown eyes meeting momentarily with Harrison's blue ones.

Harrison nodded, putting away his gun, wiping the sweat on his palm over his pants, before taking his hand for a brief shake.

"Harrison," He offered his own name.

"I know," Kevin replied nonchalantly, shifting his focus back to the road.

The blond turned to the other side, head leading against the headrest, glancing out of the window, watching the scenery move backwards, carefree as a lark for once, until the driver slowed the vehicle down, parking at the side, near a divergence where a 91' Accord waited for them.

He leapt out of the car. Harrison followed suit.

Taking the back seat of the switch car, alongside a woman that wasn't Sandhya, Kevin slumped into the cushions, stretching his hands over his head, shutting his eyes, probably tired (of course), taking the much needed break. The woman, on the other hand, was busy typing away on her laptop, wired headphones tucked into her ears.

Another man emerged from the passenger seat, passing Harrison on the way, his face invisible in the dim highway lights, taking the maroon sedan. Harrison replaced him, getting into the switch car, sitting on the front, the only seat that was left unoccupied.

"Welcome back." The voice on the driver's seat greeted him.

Sandhya.

Harrison snorted, choosing not to turn his neck to meet her face and rather settling on passing a mere glance at her with a side eye.

She was back to wearing her coat, raven hair whipped by the wind, loose strands sticking over her face, her makeup no longer intact and slightly greasy, except for her bold red lipstick, sitting over her smiling mouth, complimenting her smooth dusky skin.

She pulled the gear, pressing on the pedal, putting the car in motion, its engine roaring for a full minute, her right hand on the wheel, left hand ceaselessly turning the dial of the radio back and forth, till Blinding Lights echoed from the speakers. She kept the volume low, possibly because of the other woman busy on her laptop, definitely because of the man dozing off, sitting behind them. But that didn't stop her from mouthing the lyrics or sway her body with the tunes.

Harrison looked away, outside the window, head slightly out, chin pressed against one of his hands he had kept over the window edge, feeling the cold air hit his face harder when she shifted the gear, speeding off the vehicle.

A ghost of a smile flickered over his lips, the upbeat music filling his ears.

He had different plans...

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…TO BE CONTINUED…

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[louezem]

Saying Yes

Summary:  Katniss and Peeta had a bitter break up years ago and went their separate ways. Katniss knows nothing of Peeta’s life now, until a stunning blonde walks into the exclusive bridal salon were she works, to buy her a dress for her wedding - to Peeta Mellark. 

Part Four - Sisters…..

Part 4 - Sisters  

“Prim?  Are you here?”

Katniss threw her keys and bag down and toed off her shoes with a sigh of relief.  It had been a long and frustrating day at work.   All she wanted was to shower, eat and then sleep.   

“I’m in the kitchen!” her sister replied.  “Dinner’s almost ready!”

Katniss offered up a silent prayer of thanks that she wouldn’t have to face another takeout or frozen pizza for dinner tonight.  She knew how to cook but was lazy about it when she only had to cook for herself.  Prim, however, loved to cook.

She followed the delicious aroma wafting down the narrow hall to the tiny kitchen.   It was barely big enough to hold a small table and 2 chairs, but Prim had set it with the nice plates and cutlery and a small bud vase holding a single, yellow dandelion.

“What’s all this?” Katniss waved at the table.  “It’s not my birthday.”

“Does it need to be a special occasion for me to show my appreciation for my favorite sister?” Prim asked, lifting a spoon to her mouth and offering it to her for a taste. 

“Mmm, that’s so good.” Katniss licked her lips.  “It tastes familiar. What’s in it?”

“It’s lamb stew with dried plums.” Prim smiled as she added an extra dash of red wine to the simmering pot.  “I remembered how much you love it and I thought I’d try to recreate the recipe.  Besides, lamb was on special at the market today.”  

Still thrifty with the budget.  Katniss thought.  Old habits die hard.

“Go get cleaned up.  Dinner will be ready in ten minutes. I just need to warm up some crusty bread to go with this.”

“I love you, little duck,” Katniss said, pulling her sister in for a hug. 

“I love you more, duck potato,” Prim grinned.

An hour later and Katniss was feeling full and sleepy as she curled on the sofa with her legs tucked under her, sipping on a second glass of red wine.  

“Thank you Prim, that was wonderful,” she sighed, patting her full tummy.  “I always appreciate a home cooked meal but I thought you had plans to go to the movies with Rory tonight?”

“I did but he caught an extra shift so I decided to come over and bug you instead.” Prim said, joining her on the sofa. 

“So, did you happen to catch any news today?  Hear any juicy celebrity gossip at work?” she asked, taking a sip from her own wineglass.

Katniss looked sideways at her sister, wondering why she was asking such an odd question. Prim knew Katniss was not big on the news or gossip – celebrity or otherwise.

“No, I was run off my feet all day.  I don’t have time for gossip.  There’s a trunk show on all week and they can get a little crazy.”

“Huh,” Prim starting tapping on the screen of her obnoxiously large smart phone. “Then you haven’t seen this?”  She slowly turned the phone screen to face her sister.

Katniss fought to keep her composure as she watched the images unfold in front of her.  The video captured a gorgeous smiling couple standing close together, hands intwined, on a gilded balcony overlooking the park.  A fireworks display was lighting up the night sky behind them.  Once the fireworks come to an end the couple and their guests start to clap and cheer and someone pops a champagne cork as music begins to play and other couples start to filter onto the dancefloor.  

Dressed in the one-of-a-kind flowing white and gold reception gown created by Cinna, paired with custom Jimmy Choo couture heels and her golden hair flowing in loose waves almost to her waist, the bride was every bit as breath-taking as Katniss knew she would be.  Holding her close to his side with an affectionate smile on his face was Peeta.   He looked equally handsome in a perfectly tailored white suit with gold accents at his throat, breast pocket and cuffs.

Though Cinna never talked to her about it – most likely to spare her feelings - Katniss knew he’d worked closely with Portia, the designer who created Peeta’s outfit, to ensure the bride and groom perfectly complimented each other on their special day.   

She couldn’t help looking carefully at Peeta’s left hand now placed on Glimmer’s waist expecting to see the shiny glint of a new gold band on his finger but he didn’t appear to be wearing one. 

That’s odd. She thought. No wedding ring?

She always thought Peeta was the type of guy would like to wear a ring when he got married. 

When they were dating he was always very open about showing his feelings for her, and would tease her gently when she got embarrassed by his frequent public displays of affection.  “I want the whole world to know I’m yours,” he’d told her, more than once, gently tugging on the end of her braid as she’d scowl.

Unable to continue watching him display affection for another woman was more then she could bear and she pushed the phone away.

“They make a very lovely couple,” Katniss said quietly. “I hope they’ll be very happy together”. 

Prim snorted out loud. “Katniss did you even read what’s under the video?” she held the phone up again.

“The Show Must Go On!”

An official spokesperson for the Snow family declined to comment following the cancellation of the nuptials between heiress Glimmer Snow, granddaughter of Coriolanus Snow, and her fiancé Peeta Mellark, Culinary Director for the “Arena” chain of restaurants owned by the Snow Corporation.  However the brother of the groom, Mr Ryan Mellark, confirmed that the decision by the couple not to proceed with the wedding was both “mutual and loving” and that the couple would remain friends.    

“I don’t understand,” Katniss looked to her sister, confused.  “Are you telling me they didn’t get married?”

“Yep.  No wedding. They called it off at the last minute but went ahead with the dinner and reception anyway, which is kind of cool.  One of Rory’s classmates was working the bar for the evening and he says it turned into one hell of a party. But then I guess the Snow family does know how to do things in style.”

“Wow. I wonder what happened to make them call it off.” Katniss stared into space as she tried to process this new information.   She’d purposely avoided all news and social media over the weekend, hoping that if she distanced herself the sooner she’d be able to forget the intense look in Peeta’s eyes as she’d driven away from the hotel.  “So much time, money and effort went into those dresses, poor Cinna worked for days hand beading the reception dress—"

Prim rolled her eyes. 

“Lord almighty Katniss, you can be so dumb sometimes,” she took another sip of her wine.  “Isn’t it obvious what happened?  Peeta claps eyes on you again for the first time in forever and the next day his wedding is called off.  He still loves you.”

“That’s not true.” Katniss jumped off the sofa and quickly gathered her wine glass and the near empty bottle.  “Don’t say that.  Why would you say something like that?”

“Hey, give that back!” Prim tried to grab the wine bottle from her as she stomped past into the kitchen and began angrily slamming their dirty dishes into the dishwasher.   It wasn’t long before she heard her sister’s soft footsteps behind her.

“I’m sorry Katniss, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Prim apologised quietly.  “I’m worried about you, that’s all.  You haven’t been yourself since you found out Peeta was getting married.”

Katniss sighed.  “I’m fine Prim, really.  You’ve no need to worry about me.  Peeta and I were over a lifetime ago.  I’m over it.  I know absolutely nothing about his life now.”

Prim tilted her head and regarded her sister with cool blue eyes.  “Will you ever tell me what happened between the two of you?  You’ve never given me a straight answer.”

“Does it matter now?”

Prim shrugged. “I’d like to understand.  I was still a kid when you two broke up and no one bothered to explain what was going on to me.  It was confusing.  All I knew was one day you were getting ready to leave for college, the next you were staying in District 12 and applying for any low paid job you could get.  Why didn’t you go?”

“Because things changed,” Katniss scowled. “Family comes first.”

Prim squinted. “Really, Katniss? You’ve fobbed me off with that line for years.  I was hoping you were finally ready to open up with a few more details. I know you loved Peeta, don’t bother denying it.  Your feelings for him weren’t the problem.  Or his for you, everyone could see how bad the guy had it for you.  It wasn’t Mom, or money issues.  She was fine then and you had a full scholarship.  There’s something else you’re not telling me.”

“All right, if you want to know I’ll tell you.”  Katniss reached up into a small cupboard a produced a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses.  “Follow me.  This conversation is going to require something a bit stronger than wine.”

Settled back on the sofa once again, she tossed back a shot and took a deep breath.

“Peeta accused me of cheating on him,” she began.  “When I tried to defend myself, he didn’t believe me.  He chose to take his brother’s word over mine.”

“No way.” Prim gasped, her eyes widening.

“It’s true.  Rye told Peeta he caught me making out with Gale after a graduation party at Madge’s house.  Rye didn’t believe me when I told him that Gale kissed me, that I didn’t invite it and I didn’t kiss him back.  After cussing me out and calling me a few choice names he went straight to Peeta and told him.”

“Oh, shit.”  Prim’s mouth dropped open.  She picked up a full shot glass and threw it back before fixing her sister with a stare.  “Okay. In the interest of full disclosure I have to ask – did you make out with Gale?”

“Of course not!” Katniss yelled.  “Gale was my friend!  I’d known him since we were kids.   Besides, Madge liked him and I wouldn’t do that to a friend.”

“But did you like him?  Let’s face it, Gale is attractive.  In a Hemsworth kind of way.”

“No. I only ever saw him like a cousin, or maybe an older brother.  I never felt anything romantic for Gale.  It shocked the hell out of me when he kissed me.  We didn’t talk for a long time afterwards.”

“Okay, okay, I just needed to clarify that.  Continue, please.“

“Peeta and I had a huge fight and he broke up with me.  He was horrible to me Prim.”  Katniss voice cracked a little as the memories assaulted her.   “He wouldn’t give me a chance to defend myself. He was so mean, I’d never seen him like that before.  He was like a totally different person.”

Katniss felt the familiar sting starting to build behind her eyes and bit her lip in order to try and gain some control over her emotions.  It still hurt, remembering the words that came out of his mouth.

“He asked me had I led Gale on, and told me to crawl back to the slag heap I came from.” 

“Oh my god, Katniss,” Prim’s eyes softened and reached towards her sister “I’m so sorry—"

“Wait! It gets worse!” Katniss let out a hard laugh.  “As if that wasn’t bad enough, somehow Peeta’s evil bitch of a mother found out about what happened.  She called Mom and threatened her. She told her that if her seam slut of a daughter went ahead with her plans to go to the same school as her son, that she’d report her to Child Protective Services for neglect.  She’d tell them about Mom leaving us alone at night while she worked, and that you would be left at home by yourself at 14 if I left town for school. She even knew about the bouts of depression after Dad died.  All stuff I’d confided in Peeta about.” 

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” Prim jumped of the sofa and started to pace up and down. “It’s so unfair.  And untrue!  Mom and I talked about what would happen when you went to school, I was going to stay overnight with Hazelle at the Hawthornes when she was on nights!” 

“You know that and I know that, but Mom was terrified.  She didn’t know what to do.”

Katniss downed another shot. 

“After she threatened Mom, I tried talking to Rye one more time.  I begged him again to believe me that what he saw wasn’t real, but he insisted I was lying.  That Gale had been seen at the slag heap with a girl from the Seam, and I must have made it worth it when he could have had Madge instead of my skinny ass.  His words.  I never really understood that part.”  She frowned.

“I told him about his mother’s threats and he finally said he’d talk to his Dad about keeping her off our Mom’s back, but only for your sake and only if I agreed to stop trying to contact Peeta.  So I did what he wanted.  I gave up my college place and started applying for jobs and signed up for a few classes at the Community College.”

“So, it was me.” Prim’s eyes filled with tears and she crawled towards her sister and wrapped her arms around her in a fierce hug. “You did it for me.”

Katniss shrugged like it was no big deal. “You’re my sister. I’d give my life for yours in a heartbeat.”

“You’re such a dumbass but I love you.” Prim began to cry harder. “You sacrificed so much Katniss.  Your education.  Your future.  Peeta. I’ve never seen you as happy as when you two were together, not even when you were with Darius.”

“Hush now, no more of that talk.” Katniss soothed her crying sister, tears forming in her own eyes. “It all worked out for the best in the end.   I was here when Mom got sick and I took on a second job to help pay the bills.  We got by, and we stayed together. That’s what Dad would have wanted.  Family comes first.”

“Peeta was a part of our family. He was like a brother to me when I was a kid.” Prim sniffed.  “Why didn’t he believe you?  And what the fuck was Rye’s problem?”

“I don’t know.  All I know is his mother always hated me, but I never knew Rye did too. Peeta and Rye were always close, and once Rye started filling Peeta’s head with lies I just couldn’t get through to him after that.  He never spoke to me again after he broke up with me.  A few weeks later he left town for school and I never saw him again until that day on the steps of his hotel.” 

“Katniss, I don’t know what to say. I am so sorry.  It sounds like his mind was poisoned by his brother and that horrible old witch who gave birth to him.  God, I’d love to give her a piece of my mind.  As for Rye? I swear, if I ever see that guy again I will dick punch him.” 

“I saw Rye the day before the wedding, he has mellowed quite a bit,” Katniss continued to stroke Prim’s blonde hair soothingly, taking comfort from the continuous motion herself. “He was almost pleasant once he realized I had a legitimate reason for being there.”

“I owe you so much Katniss,” Prim sat up, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.  “Because of your support, I got to come here, go to school, do everything you missed out on.  Everything I’ve achieved is because you.  How can I ever repay a debt like that?”

“Don’t worry, you can pay for my luxury retirement home on the beach in District Four when you find the cure for cancer,” Katniss quipped and laughed as Prim hit her with a cushion. 

Later that night, after Prim had left and Katniss was getting ready for bed, she couldn’t help but look for a small box she kept hidden in the furthest corner of her closet.  

Inside were a few sentimental items that even after ten years, she never had the heart to throw away.  

A pencil drawing of a dandelion he’d put into her locker one day, after she told him they made her think of him.

A movie stub from their first date.  She smiled at the memory.  Peeta had taken her to see “I Am Legend” and got embarrassed when he cried over the dog, Sam, dying.   It was still one of her favorite movies.

A photo of them together at Senior Prom, and another of their High School Graduation, big smiles on their faces just days before he broke up with her and her world came crashing down.

“Oh Peeta,” she mumbled, “why didn’t you believe me?”  She sniffed.  No, she wasn’t going to cry.  She’d already done enough of that for this lifetime. 

“… maybe you should crawl back to the slag heap you come from.”

She felt a spark of anger in her own stomach when she recalled the things he’d accused her of.  It was an old spark, but one that had helped her keep going and moving forward over the years.   She slammed the box shut and shoved it back in the darkest recess of her closet before crawling into her bed.  She had run from the bakery that day.  Run from his words and the rage and hurt in blue eyes that had only ever looked at her with softer emotions.   

She closed her own eyes and pulled the covers over her head, hoping she wouldn’t be hearing them over and over in her nightmares that night.

~*~    ~*~   ~*~

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