#i need something that i can do fulltime but set my own hours and work remotely

[sniperdadmaccready]

it should be considered a hatecrime the way that Indeed keeps recommending me, a known bisexual genderqueer freak, jobs for closet installation companies

[carrymelikeimcute]

Stop Stealing from Authors

As an author, please please PLEASE do not download 'free' ebooks or listen to 'free audiobooks' on YouTube etc.

Books take work to research and write, and author advances are already incredibly low, without us having to PAY THEM BACK to the publisher because the book isn't earning enough. Authors are already earning far far below the minimum wage per hour of work we put in.

Many ebooks are incredibly cheap already and have regular price drops down to 99p/$0.99, and are FREE using a library app.

Audiobooks likewise can be accessed digitally for FREE via the library.

Authors in countries like my own receive a small amount of money when you access our content via the library. Money which means we can keep writing books. Using the library also gives them visitor numbers and incentivises funding, preventing library closures.

Funding piracy makes the already very hard job of writing as a career even harder and endangers library resources.

'Well then maybe you should get a real job' I have a job, and that job is being an author. It is very entitled to tell authors that we need to essentially have a full time job AND still produce content for you to enjoy for free, at a speed/quality which makes writing also a fulltime job.

As a fulltime author I wrote 3 novels last year, each with 4-5 rounds of edits at different stages in the process. I also edited the two books I wrote the previous year during that time. Hundreds of hours of work. And I have since seen piracy websites making money off of that work.

Saying that piracy 'expands the reach of our books' is as insulting as being 'paid in exposure'. If you want something that someone made, you have to pay them for it. It is not doing someone a favour, to steal from them. And let's be real - how many people are you telling about each book you steal? Are you recommending the piracy site to others in the same breath? Are you just rating on goodreads and counting that as 'payment' for what you stole?

If you want to get a free book and 'expand the reach' - sign up to Netgalley and get free books in exchange for posting reviews.

'But then I can't read all the books I want to read' - Why should you get everything you want? Genuine question. I don't have all the make-up I want, or all the decor I want, but I'm not shoving stuff in my pockets because it's not fair that I don't get to have everything my magpie brain desires. You don't have enough time in your life to read every book anyway. You have to choose.

I bet you also have more than one unread book in your possession, right now. Probably a TBR pile. Why do you need another one for free, when you have books to read? And if you don't want to read those books, you can access every book, via the library.

Authors would even prefer that you buy our books second hand, because at least that 1. is good for the environment as it keeps books out of landfill and 2. benefits charity if you purchase for a charity bookshop/ doesn't benefit pirates. And 3. unlike a stolen ebook, you can donate it again and it will be visible on a shop shelf, attracting new readers.

'You should write because you love it, not for money' I do write because I love it, that's why I spent years learning my craft and working to get published. So I could do this as a job. I even write fanfic on the side as a hobby, and that is VERY different to writing publishable novels for my editor - I get to do all the fun stuff with none of the WORK that my writing job requires.

I don't love being told what setting/theme is 'hot right now' and needs to be in my next novel. Or re-reading my book for the 15th time to look for typos, or spending 4-5 hours every morning writing to meet a crunch deadline and the rest of the day brainstorming the new idea which is due in a week, answering emails and editing. It's my job, not a hobby, and it's not all fun, all the time. No one page edits for the LOVE of it.

'If buying isn't owning, then piracy isn't stealing' - Unlike films/tv, books are still available as physical media you can own forever. They're also less likely to vanish from your ereader because they aren't licenced like a tv show.

'I don't want to support a horrible person but I still want the book' - so...you agree that pirating does nothing for the author? Good. Because that 'spreading awareness stuff' we already covered, is bullshit. But if they're so terrible...why do you want to read something that was invented in their brain, and is likely full of their terrible values/dog whistles? Why not find new authors to support instead of hate reading/continuing to absorb content from people you fundamentally dislike?

Lastly, the argument I routinely see is that 'it's just the same as lending a copy to a friend'. It is not. Firstly because you're putting money into the pockets of those who stole our work, via ad-rev on their sites, whereas lending a book to a friend doesn't result in you making money off of someone else's work. But also, lending the book to ONE person is not the same as making it available to EVERYONE. I just filed a copyright takedown on one of my new books which already had 200+ hits. Unless you plan to lend a physical book to 200+ people, you will not do that same amount of damage as piracy.

[deniigi]

sorry to bother again but i am a freshman in college and i am v stressed

how did you get through it and how do I make myself not want to drop every single class i’m in every semester

how does one take more than 5 classes at a time

i am in midterm hell and i am Scared™️

oh you mean, ‘Matt, please do your actual literal job on main?’ Because this is sort of my actual literal job, friend. So don’t worry. I’ve got you.

So first thing’s first, when planning future semesters:

I would recommend against taking more than 5 classes at a time. Mathematically, it is not great for you. If you have to take more than 5, plan on doing 1-2 to during summer school. You won’t be behind. You’re fine. I swear.

Example for future class planning: For every class, look at the number of units/credits it is. That is around the number of hours that you’re gonna spend in that class a week. Now multiply that by 2. That’s about the number of hours total you’re gonna spend on that class in a week (both in class and doing homework).

That means that a 3 unit/credit class = 6 hours of work per week.

You have five of those classes. That means that you’re doing around 30hrs of school work a week. If you have six of those classes, you’re practically working a fulltime job with little to no pay and benefits.

End story: Do not take more than 5 classes a semester if you can help it.

If you can, don’t take more than 4 classes in your major per semester, either. You will die. Use electives and general education classes as your fourth or fifth class to lighten your load and give yourself something that you enjoy and know you can pass for sure. That will give you some breathing room and will help you maintain your GPA.

Coping with Overload now:

At this point in the semester, it’s a little late to be dropping classes, so what you’re going to do instead is to schedule the fuck out of your time.

You need to pick and stick to set dates/times for completing coursework and midterm projects for the next week or two. People do this in different ways, but generally speaking, people will assign projects/homework to certain days.

Example: Monday is Chemistry homework night because assignments are due on Wednesday. You only work on Chemistry on Monday. You finish the assignment and turn it in.

Tuesday is English homework day because assignments are papers and take 3 days to complete due to requiring 3 different steps: research, outlining, and writing. You do the whole researching process on Tuesday and do a basic outline. You will fill out the outline a little more on Wednesday and will then write the whole paper on Thursday so that you can turn it in then, before the Friday deadline.

On Wednesday, after you’re satisfied with your English outline, you will set that aside because Wednesdays are Math days. You will do the Math homework and/or study for 2-3 hours until your brain feels like soup. Then you will stop, do something relaxing for 30min, and then decide if you need to do more studying. If you do, repeat the study + self-care process. Go to sleep at a reasonable hour (before 2am if possible)

Do the same thing for your other 2 classes, assigning each a day and a specific task or set of tasks to complete on each day. Don’t give yourself more than 3 tasks per class/study session, because that’s how you get overwhelmed and into an anxiety spiral.

Apply self-care (breaks, snacks, drinks, music) liberally while doing assignments.

Other tips: figure out how you study.

If you study best in a group, grab some folks from your class and form a study group. If you are in STEM especially, it is expected that you will form study groups. This is how studying happens in STEM, medical, and law fields. It is nigh impossible to do all that labor on your own. Yes, I am serious. Make a study group, even if that’s you and 1 other person.

If you can find a study guide, take it to study group or block out an hour or two and do the whole thing. If you don’t have a study guide, make one yourself out of your homework/assignments and test yourself with flashcards or writing out definitions and forcing yourself to explain the different parts of cycles you learned in class.

If you are in a humanities/liberal arts major, you need to figure out if you study best by reviewing your notes, by re-listening to the lectures, by explaining concepts to others, or by writing it all out as if it was an essay.

If you need to write an essay and are stuck with where to start, reach out for help from a tutor if your school has one, or just start by doing 15 minutes of brainstorming to figure out what you feel about the topic and what evidence/ideas would work to answer it. Pick apart the prompt to see what it is truly asking you to do, write out the components of the prompt separately on a separate page and start answering those question as if they were short answers.

Then when you’ve got that, you can start noting bits of evidence to add to support your points and BAM, just like that, you’ve got an outline. Write a thesis statement at the top that addresses the Who, What, Why and How You’re Going to Prove it of your essay and you’re ready to go.

Example thesis statement: “The world represented in Oh God, How do I Study by Matt Deniigiq includes references to time management, course planning, and big-picture thinking to emphasize the broader theme that this one shit semester is not going to destroy student’s lives. This is evident in the droll humor used throughout the piece and the fact that the author keeps halting in paragraphs to answer emails from frazzled students.”

**yes, your thesis can be 2 sentences long. It’s allowed, I promise.

Know that these 5 classes will not end your life.

Honestly, like, speaking as someone who does this for a living, at public schools anything higher than a C is grand. It’s not usually required for you to list your GPA on job apps later on (I’ve never been asked). No one actually cares about your GPA in social situations.

As long as my students have higher than Cs in their classes and they aren’t like, nursing students, I’m cool with their progress, so give yourself a break if you can.

Also know that getting a low grade in 1 class as a freshmen doesn’t actually fuck up your GPA as bad as you think it will. Like, there’s a lot of complicated shit around this that I could go into, but generally speaking, if you fail one class (and I mean FAIL-fail it. Fs and D-s. None of this ‘UwU I got a C so I failed’), then by the time you’re a junior or a senior, if you haven’t failed additional shit, that F/D- is barely going to shift your GPA.

Like, we’re talking .1 shifts around then. Maybe a .3 shift if you’re at the end of your sophomore year. That’s the diff between a 2.5 and a 2.4. Or a 3.3 and a 3.0. You can make that up almost entirely by taking another round of classes and getting As and Bs (again, the mechanics are complicated, so you’re just gonna have to take my word here).

So yeah, shoot for Cs or higher and know that these classes aren’t the end-all be-alls of your lives.

(For context, if I get a student with a 3.0 or higher, I’m fucking ELATED. I’m not even joking. Y’all will be fine.) 

--

Start with these tips and get back to me if you want something more specific. I do this all day, every day.

[bowditch]

how do you balance creating fan works with juggling your responsibilities? I've been struggling with finding the time/motivation to write what I want.

First, my creativity output tends to come and go in waves. Some weeks I’m writing 1-3k a day, some weeks I don’t even open documents at all. Some weeks are in-between, where I open stuff and poke around and do a few hundred words here and there, but not much more. The “off” times I’m usually reading, playing games, watching movies or shows, talking to friends, and thinking about stories or scenes. Sometimes, this isn’t even anything I’ll ever write! Sometimes, I don’t think about stories I’m writing at all. It’s more whatever pops into my head and less structured.  Part of me wants to be Disciplined and write every day, but the reality is that unless it’s a very tiny limit like 100-200 words, this really isn’t doable for me. I have kids I homeschool, I have a house and a husband and a dog and there are times in life when I need to deep clean a bunch of rooms, or plan out school stuff, or go on hikes, and I still have to have time to recharge. Writing sometimes is that recharging, but I can’t afford to force it when it isn’t. 

Because the reality is that to find that time, you have to give up something. There isn’t a version of the equation where “finding time” involves creating more time than you already have. The things I can afford to cut out to work on writing are the things I do in my own entertainment time-- I write instead of doing those things at all, or as much. So, I tend to write when it’s the thing I want to do, and enjoy doing, because otherwise it would be an emotional and mental drain I couldn’t afford. When I’m writing a lot in a day, it means I’m not really reading fic or novels, I’m not watching much TV, I spend way less time chatting online, I don’t really scroll tumblr as much, I’m not playing video games. The things I usually do in the bit of time in the afternoons or evenings when I have a chance to just do something I want to do, that’s what I give up to make room. (Sometimes, I give up sleep, but I don’t recommend doing this often. I can’t say I fully regret the times when I’m on a roll and stay up super late, but this really isn’t healthy or sustainable long-term because I’m not in a position to sleep in late-- if you can afford to sleep in late, that might be different.) Two caveats: This is a fact, but not always a conscious decision. Sometimes, I might actually think, “Okay, so I’m not going to have time to watch this tonight after all,” but that’s pretty rare. Usually, if I’m giving up stuff to write, it’s just the natural consequence of really wanting to write and enjoying it and focusing on it. The same as if I’d gotten sucked into a really good book and spent the evening/night reading-- I’m not consciously deciding “I will give up other entertainment options for this today,” as much as I’m just doing the thing I want to do. The second caveat is that I have ADHD! Wanting to write and getting started can be two different things because of my difficulty switching tasks or starting a task. The rule that tends to help me the most are on the days I want to write, or think I want to write, and have stuff I’ve been thinking about writing, but keep not getting started, I give myself ten minutes alone with an open document. A timer, ten minutes, the document, and nothing else. No app switching, no scrolling, no background chores. Those ten minutes of boredom don’t always kickstart writing, but they give me the chance to determine if writing is the thing I actually want to do that day. I get going and I’m on a roll and I ignore the timer when it goes off, or I poke around, maybe write a few words, and the timer beeps and I’m free to go do something else because it’s not a good writing day. 

I’m not always the best at balancing, to be honest. Sometimes, I give up sleep, or put off minor chores. Sometimes, I forget to eat. I do not recommend these, but I think it’s okay if you’re WORKING at balancing and sometimes realize you’ve made an error, as long as you scramble to catch up and give yourself some space to learn. Because my responsibilities are centered around tiny humans, I have a framework of school and meal times I can’t ignore; if your responsibilities are more “quiet” and easier to overlook (like homework, or self-care, or work from home) you might need to just teach yourself to not even open documents until you’ve done certain tasks. Jot down notes if you’re afraid you’ll lose something! But don’t buy into the myth that a “real writer” is completely controlled by impulse and whim. Will there be rare days when you ignore everything else to write for four hours? Maybe! But that shouldn’t be the goal, or the norm, because unless you have a household staff and responsibilities that cater to your whims, it’s really not realistic or healthy. 

The big things are to figure out how to be hard on yourself and how to be gentle with yourself. If you’re too tired, really want to watch a show, overwhelmed by work, just need to talk to a friend or chat server for an hour, it’s okay to just do those things and not feel guilty. Unless you are writing fulltime as your job, it is a hobby and you don’t “have” to achieve a certain level of productivity to be valid as a writer. The times to be hard on yourself are when you know you want to write, and are enjoying the actual process, but your brain isn’t trained to focus on it for stretches of time-- when you’re writing and think of something to tell a friend, wander about a random fact, want to check tumblr when you pause to think about a sentence, that’s when you sternly tell yourself “no, give it thirty seconds before you jump away from this task” and see if you end up getting unstuck with that little breath of boredom space. If you’re really disengaging, that’s okay, but your brain might just need to build the muscle of staying focused on the structure of creative output. It’s a muscle! You might WANT to do fifty pushups, but if you haven’t made your body stick out five for a while, and then ten, and built up, it’s probably not going to cooperate and you’ll feel miserable and broken and useless if you just try to get to fifty the first time. But...building to fifty requires not getting distracted and wandering away when you’ve only done 2 of 5 the week you’re working on sets of five.  My only other recommendation if you haven’t done a lot of writing before is to not fall into the editing trap. Unless you just REALLY LOVE EDITING and it engages and charges you to write more, don’t get stuck in the loop of opening a document or a notebook to write and spending all your time editing the few paragraphs you already have. A lot of the first draft stuff will probably suck. That’s okay. Just finish the thing. You know the cake analogy in fandom? “Write that hurt/comfort, it’s just more cake!”? Getting stuck editing the first bit of a story over and over until it’s polished is sort of like looking at a bowl of three ingredients of a cake recipe and going “This doesn’t look much like cake, maybe if I add more flour...” until you have a bowl full of something that really isn’t cake and isn’t anything closer to cake, no matter how pretty you’ve made those three ingredients look in the bowl. Maybe it’s a very lovely color and has pretty sprinkles on it! Still not a cake. You’ve wasted your limited time, and worn yourself out, and you know you still don’t really have anything closer to a cake to pull out of the oven and show off. The time to edit is when the cake is done and cooling, and you’re making icing and picking out trimmings and cutting up fruit and shaving chocolate or whatever.  And then the next cake will probably be better because you practiced doing the whole thing and have a better idea of what to do and not do the next time. Then, opening a document or grabbing a pen and notebook can be a new, engaging chance to create instead of “oh it’s this same stale bowl of aesthetic half-batter.” (Again, if you find editing as you go super recharging, ignore this-- some people are just very good at tweaking batter as they go without stalling completely-- just give yourself the time to figure that out.)  I hope this helps! Feel free to send follow-up questions or clarifications if I misunderstood something or you want a differently structured answer or just MORE INFORMATIONS.

[spring-has-come]

RusAme Secret Santa 2019

Yeehaw, another year let’s go. Yes I’m recycling this image. I’m sorry. I work fulltime. 

Below are the steps to joining this year’s RusAme Secret Santa/Gift Exchange event:

Step 1: Fill out this form before November 30th and submit it to me. Or message it to me, doesn’t matter. I just need to see it. (the form is tagged “form” if the link doesn’t work). There is also a google form for mobile users.

If you are seeing this post after November 30th, message me your name and I will add you into a “late submitters” pool. If there are enough late submissions, you will be entered into the second pool. If not, I apologize but you will have to wait until next year. But if there are enough for a second group, you will be notified before December 14 but that only give you ONE WEEK to work

Step 2: Wait up to 24 hours for me to confirm that I got your form and that everything is good and complete.

IMPORTANT: If your asks and messaging is turned off, you will not be able to get your confirmation OR your assigned person, so please turn it on. Asks will be sent via my main blog since side blogs can’t send asks. Also, if you have the private message setting that only allows blogs you follow, then follow this blog

Step 3: Once confirmed, wait patiently until December 1st-December 3rd for partner assignment

Step 4: Confirm to me that you got the form. This is very important. I need to know if you’re still participating and active. Those who do not respond may be replaced. You have until December 12th to respond. 

Step 5: Pick one of the wishes and work on your gift. If you want, you can combine the wishes together. Get creative!

If for any reason you are not well enough or in any way cannot complete your gift, notify me before December 18th

Step 6:  Post it from December 25th - December 30th and tag it as “rusame secret santa 2019″ or tag this blog if you want your work posted on this blog. Or if you are doing a private submission, screenshot that you sent your work to your recipient and send me the screenshots. 

Step 7: Receive your gift and thank the person for their work!

So that’s it! Have fun guys!

Reblog to spread the word!!!

Below the cut: Schedule, Rules, Requirements, and FAQ for mobile users:

Schedule

Nov 3rd - Signup open

Dec 1 - Signup closed

Dec 1st-3rd - Partner assignment

Dec 3rd-25th - Working period

Dec 19th - Mandatory progress checkup

Dec 25th-30th - Submission

Rules

You MUST follow this blog. I need to be able to message you. After following, turn notifications on for this blog to get updates. I will post only when an update is needed. 

Do not tell your partner that you are their partner (if their anon is off and you want to ask them a question, I can be your middle man) 

Make sure to tag your person when you are done so they can see it! 

Put the word count, prompt, possible trigger warnings, and ratings at the beginning of writings 

Posting WIPs in Discord servers is allowed. Just be mindful of whether or not your partner is present, unless you don’t mind being revealed

Requirements

This is not a judge of talent. The requirements are just here so everyone puts in equal effort. PLEASE let me know if you run into complications.

Below are the requirements:

One-shots and fics must be at least 2,000 words, max of 10,000 words. If you go over, that’s okay

Artwork must be colored and complete. No sketches

Video edits/AMVs/CMVs must be at least 30 seconds. Content MUST be your own. Do not use works(artworks, photographs, etc.) that you do not own. Music is an exception, of course

Comics should be a minimum of 3 pages. They don’t have to be colored but they should be at least lined, have a solid color, or color lined

Animations must be at least 8 seconds. Do not have to be colored

Film scripts must be at least 10 pages

Mixed media options:

a 1,500(1.5k) drabble with a roughly lined sketch

a 4 second animation with rough concept art sketches

a cosplay gifset (your own) with a 1k drabble

a storybook type drabble that includes several drawings throughout

or any other combination (ask me FIRST)

Reminder: Half ass plus half ass does not make a whole ass. Put your best effort into your gift!

Not allowed:

“Fanart gallery” type videos. The types where you throw 300 pictures into windows movie maker.

Commissions from others (Unless you are giving them the credit.)

Tracing someone else’s artwork (that’s art theft. Rotoscoping an anime/film and tracing real life people [as a ref] is allowed)

Plagiarism, aka copying and pasting someone else’s writing and changing the names and pronouns

Aesthetic posts/mood boards

Spotify playlists

FAQ

What is this?

This is the secret santa/gift exchange event for the hetalia ship RusAme

Why do you need my email?

Google forms needs to collect emails so that at the end, you are given the option to have your form submitted emailed to you so you remember what you submitted. It also gives you the option to edit your form if you change your mind.

Why do you need my age?

Minors will not be allowed to receive or submit NSFW content.

Why are the requirements so strict?

To ensure that no one is “cheated” by being given an unsatisfactory gift. Your work does not have to be the Mono Lisa or Harry Potter. This is not a judge of talent. Just do your best and have fun.

Can I do more than one wish?

Go crazy, dude. I’m sure your partner would be ecstatic if you did more than one!

How do I submit my post on Christmas?

Your options are:

post it on your own tumblr and @ spring-has-come or put rusame secret santa 2019 in the tags

post it on fanfiction/ao3/wattpad/whatever and send me a link

send a direct submission to this blog for me to post

send it directly to your partner then screenshot the messages to me so I can confirm you did it

What is a pitch-hitter/backup Santa?

Someone who fills in for someone if someone drops out.

How will pitch-hitters be chosen?

All pitch-hitters will be given a number that I will choose at random with a random number generator. If the pitch-hitter denies the request, I choose another one at random.

What is a wish?

A wish is a prompt for what you would like to receive. They can be specific and detailed (like a story description with a planned plot) or something more loose (like a short prompt). VAGUE wishes are different from the specific ones. Vague wishes are short prompts that encompass a large amount of ideas. Examples below:

Wish 1: Alfred goes Christmas shopping and runs into Ivan and they fight over the last cartoon of spiked eggnog. They end up splitting it and spending Christmas together. (Fluff, comedy, PG)

Wish 2: Amelia and Anya baking cookies together with flour all over their faces.

Wish 3: Something based off “One Last Dance” by Us the Duo (angst, any rating)

Vague wish 1: something with fluff!

Vague wish 2: cardverse au

Can I resubmit my form?

Re-submissions WILL be allowed before December 1st

[jamielea81]

Back to School

Chapter 1

Pairing: Professor Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Some cursing

Description: After taking years off of school, you finally decide to go back and finish up that degree.

Word Count: Approximately 1,800

A/N: Welcome to my new series Back to School! This is a professor AU with a twist. This series will be on the shorter side (no more than 10 chapters) and will be updated weekly. I’ve tagged those that have asked to be tagged before, if you would like to be removed just let me know. 

*Italics are internal thoughts.

Sticking out like a sore thumb wasn’t your idea of a good first day back to school. It was like high school all over again, but instead of wearing cheap clothes from the clearance rack while the other girls in school wore designer jeans, you wore business attire. Black pencil skirt, blouse, heels, makeup done up, that was your staple most days at the office. Students hanging around campus and in your first class were dressed in pajama pants, jeans, gym shorts and t-shirts. You were vastly over dressed, but it wasn’t your fault, you had to go back to work after your second class.

You had taken a few years off of school. Who were you kidding? You took 13 years off. It was always your intention to go back to college and finish up that degree, but life got in the way.

During senior year, you had gotten sick. It started out simple enough with pains in your stomach, but no amount of pain killers and rest could cure it. Once it was apparent you weren’t getting better, you made numerous trips to the health center on campus. They in turn referred you to the regional hospital that diagnosed you with an ovarian cyst. It was already quite large and your doctor recommended surgery as soon as possible. Two weeks later, you had the surgery to remove it. Because of the recovery time and the days you missed being ill, you had no choice but to take incompletes for all your classes that semester. Your job on campus was also terminated because you were no longer enrolled in classes.  

Life back at home with your parents wasn’t a breeze. After being away for nearly four years, it was quite the adjustment living under their roof once again. They encouraged you to take classes at the nearby University which you did, but you struggled. Driving into the city was a pain and finding parking was even harder. You stuck with one of the two classes you enrolled in and managed to finish it leaving eight credits to go.

You found a job fairly quickly after a friend working in a call center gave you the heads up about an opening. It started as a fulltime position that summer, and you planned on going part time in the fall so that you could take a couple of classes to complete your degree. You ended up moving in with said friend at the end of summer. The money was rolling in as you turned out to be quite the sales woman. Deciding to take one more semester off to put some money in the bank, turned into a year off. Student loan bills started to arrive in your mailbox since you weren’t enrolled in classes. That one year turned into two. You moved out on your own. Took a new sales job with great benefits and a 401K. Two years turned into five. A job in middle management became available and you took it. Even though you were great at sales, you didn’t particular love it. Motivating others and knowing how to manage a team was more your forte. At that point you were doing quite well for yourself that school went on the back burner. Before you knew it, you were in your mid 30s worrying about a fifteen-page paper due at the end of the semester.

The campus is nice, as far as colleges go. It was also conveniently located thirty minutes from your home and office. Lush green lawns, loads of maple trees, benches and tables scattered along the wide walk ways. There’s a coffee shop in the student union, but you found a coffee cart located outside near a row of benches that faced a large water fountain in the center of the campus.

You acquired yourself a cup with two shots of vanilla. Grabbing a few capsules of cream and adding them to your cup, you planted yourself on an empty bench. You reached into your briefcase to grab out the syllabus from your first class, Economics in the Modern Age. There was no point in acquiring a backpack when you had only two classes and you had to get to work right after your second one. An hour between classes was more than enough time to look over your notes and get a cup of coffee.

“Can’t believe classes have started up again.” A deep voice in front of you said.

Looking up, the sun partially blinds your view. You put your hand up to shield the sun to get a better look at him.

“Sorry.” He says, moving about a foot to the right to block the brightness from your view.

And what a new view it was. Broad shoulders, dark blonde hair, nicely groomed beard, and those eyes. A poet could write several books about those eyes. He looked to be about your age, which was refreshing. Dressed in dark blue jeans, buttoned down checkered shirt and a brown sport coat over it. You were starring. Once you realized it, you looked down and quickly took a sip from your cup and nodded.

He stuck out his hand and you quickly set your cup down next to you on the bench. “Steve Rogers. History.”

“Ah, um, Y/N Y/L/N. Business administration.” You said, shaking his hand. His fingers fit nicely against yours. You really hoped he didn’t notice the blush.

“Do you mind?” He asked, gesturing toward the empty space beside you.

“Not at all.”

Be cool Y/L/N. Just because the hot guy wants to sit next to you, it does not mean he’s interested.

Going slow was never easy for you, which is why you were single. Your mind had a hard time differentiating between guys who were being friendly and guys who were interested. One would think with age and time, those kinds of problems would be sorted.

“Beautiful day.” You offered. Not really knowing what to say.

He hummed in response. “I’m looking forward to the cooler weather. I hate always feeling over dressed this time of year.”

You nodded. Giving him a small smile. “Same.” You said, gesturing to your long-sleeved blouse. At least you had opted to go bare legged. “It’s not so bad in the shade.”

This small talk is killing me.

Steve nodded his head. “How’s your schedule this semester?” He asked.

“Only two courses. Think I’ll manage.”

“Nice. I’ve got four, but two are twice a week.”

“Ouch. I’ve always hated those.” You replied.

He smiled. Eyes crinkly as he looked at you. “Why haven’t I seen you before?”

“I’m new here.” You said, shrugging one shoulder.

“Well, you can count me as your official welcoming party.”

You laughed. “I give you my thanks then.”

A small alarm sounded in your briefcase. Reaching in you pulled out your phone seeing you had twenty minutes until your next class. Not knowing where all the buildings were, you wanted to give yourself plenty of time to get there and hopefully find a seat in the back.

“I better get going.” You said, standing up and grabbing your bag. “It was nice to meet you Steve Rogers, History.”

He stood up as well, laughing hard, throwing his head back slightly. “You as well Y/N. I hope to see you around campus more.”

Your face flushed and you hoped he didn’t notice. “Hopefully.”

You quickly turned your back to him heading in any direction to get away from the handsome man. Not that you really wanted to run away, but you didn’t want to ruin something that hadn’t even started by saying something stupid.

After walking aimlessly for ten minutes, you consulted the campus map on your phone and started walking in the correct direction. You reached the History building with a few minutes to spare. The room wasn’t far down the hall and all rooms were numbered legibly. Finding the door was still open, you felt relieved. The room was a large lecture hall with stadium seating. Stepping inside you felt a small wave of panic as most seats were occupied with only a few open ones in the front rows and a couple single seats scattered in the middle.

Next week I am so getting here a half hour earlier.

You begrudgingly walked down the staircase, dodging careless backpacks left in your path. Sure, you wore heels daily to the office, but that was mainly at your desk or in a conference room, not down a large staircase with legs stretched out, ready to catch a victim not paying attention.

As you made your way down the steps to the mostly open first row, you couldn’t help but notice eyes on you. Instantly you felt self-conscious, thinking perhaps you had something on your face or coffee down your blouse. You took your seat and the eyes drifted away, back to their phones or conversations with the people they were sitting with.

They thought I was the teacher. That’s it, I’m changing at the office from now on.

You dug out a notebook and pen. Blue ink, not black of course. We all have our habits. You scribbled “History Beyond the Walls” on the front cover of the notebook. You picked the course randomly as you only needed a 200 level history class to complete the requirement for your degree.

The door in the back closed with a loud bang. A muttered sorry was heard and you, much like everyone else, turned around to see what caused the disturbance.

Whoa. Steve’s in this class.

You silently prayed that he’d take the seat next to you. Just for the camaraderie of adults going back to school, nothing more. Right? You continued to watch him descend the staircase hoping he’d see you. You subtly move your eyes to his left hand to check for a ring since you didn’t do so earlier. It’s naked which makes you smile. I suppose he could have a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend.  

Shaking your head slightly to get out of your own mind, you go back to the intense eye contact that pays off as Steve sees you. His face is a mix of surprise and confusion. A small smile graces his face but it quickly fades. His eyes crinkle and small lines appear on his forehead. Head tilting to the side you hear a muttered “Y/N?” You give him a slight wave as he walks completely past you, setting his bag on the desk at the front of the classroom. Now it’s your turn to be confused.

Steve turns around and looks at you briefly before scanning the rest of the room.

“I’m Professor Rogers. Welcome to History Beyond the Walls.”

Well, shit.

Tagging: @thefanficfaerie @humandasaster @violetadefebrero @estillion14 @xxloki81xx @lookwhatyoumademequeue @thefandomzoneisdangerous @tanelle83 @symonlyjen5 @niaese @lilypalmer1987 @unlcvings @linkingdolans @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @allaboutthebooz @joannie95 @chita0027

[cindylouwho-2]

Etsy’s New Message Response Time Calculations Are Inaccurate, And That Is Hurting Some Sellers

Etsy has recently made changes to the notices it displays under the "Message [Shop Owner]" button on listings - they are now showing more specific response times to some visitors ("within 2 hours"), and even the words "Speedy responder!" for some shops.  [UPDATE: as of the evening of January 28th, the shorter time frames & “speedy responder!” seem to have disappeared, but the other inaccuracies remain.]

Problem is, the displayed response time is completely wrong for some sellers. I have talked to a few shops that are experiencing this, and I am also one of them. My jewellery shop has displayed "within a few hours" (see screenshot above) since they introduced this notice a few years back, but within the past two weeks that version has vanished entirely, and when you click to message me, you see the notice that I usually reply "within a few days". 

That is completely incorrect; I respond rapidly throughout the day, and never take more than 12 hours overnight. Hilariously, my second shop shows that I respond with in 2 hours or a few hours, which is more accurate - but I never respond in that shop until after I finish with the jewellery messages.  So, a shop with a slightly slower response time can show a much faster response time. It makes no sense. 

I've complained to Etsy about how this is wildly inaccurate, and they basically said they aren't going to fix it before the next set of updates.. 

So for the moment, Etsy makes some shop owners look like they are lazy and slow to respond to customer questions and problems, and that is no doubt affecting shop sales.

How It Is Supposed To Work

Etsy Support assured me this notice:

counts how quickly a seller replies to the first message sent in a thread; you don’t have to keep replying quickly after the first message

doesn’t count messages marked spam

doesn’t count messages that do not need a reply

Now, if that were true, my notice should obviously say I respond within 12 hours at the very worst, so it is clear that what they told me isn’t what is actually happening to me and to other sellers. So what gives?

It’s likely that it is counting times when a buyer sends duplicate messages (I’ve had 3 or 4 at a time), duplicate requests to cancel a sale, or sends multiple short messages as separate threads. Logically those should fall under “messages that do not need a reply” but Etsy seems to have a different definition of that than the rest of us do. I remember a few times in the past two months when I have received duplicate requests to cancel an order, likely sent by a panicked buyer who thought the first request didn’t go through, or perhaps caused by an Etsy glitch. Most experienced sellers also noticed an increased rate of duplicate messages and short messages in separate threads when Etsy introduced the new message function in 2019. So, poor Etsy UX is likely part of the reason that some of us have inaccurate response times posted in our shops. Unless Etsy gives us more info, though, we can’t be certain. 

Why Should I Care?

It’s perfectly fine to not be worried about this for your own shop, but be aware that Etsy’s own stats show that when sellers respond quickly, they are more likely to close the sale. 

On January 26th, a banner appeared on my Messages page; it states:

"You could get more sales if you respond within 24 hours*

When it comes to providing great customer service, quick response time is key! *Based on data from Jan–Dec 2020, messages sellers responded to within 24 hours led to more sales than messages with a longer response time."

Obviously we can question that, especially since the evidence is that they are not counting the first response times correctly! But it does make sense. The longer a potential customer has to wait, the more likely it is that they will change their mind or find another place to buy.

Also, if a shopper is in a hurry, they are unlikely to send a message at all when they see that a shop (supposedly) usually does not reply for over 48 hours. This is especially true for Etsy’s core buyers who shop the site many times a year. They will get used to seeing quick response times posted on shops and will wonder why some are slow, and wonder if that is a reflection of all of the seller’s customer service skills. 

By placing this notice on shops, Etsy is definitely driving traffic away from shops with slower response times. 

But there is an even bigger concern for some shops: Etsy uses message response time as a customer service metric. 

“As a seller on Etsy, you’re expected to:

Prepare and ship orders within your chosen processing times and “ship by” dates

Set realistic expectations with accurate listing descriptions and images

Respond to shoppers’ Messages promptly with resolution-focused customer service

Treat shoppers and fellow sellers with respect and courtesy“ [emphasis added]

Etsy looks at these factors when reviewing a shop for closure. So if a shop has a string of bad luck with cases opened or bad feedback, Etsy will also look at their message response time as one of the factors - and that message response time could be wrong, since Etsy is somehow calculating it incorrectly. Shops could potentially be closed because Etsy thinks they don't reply to messages promptly, when they in fact reply pretty quickly.

Note that Etsy also uses their customer service expectations in the Seller Protection Policy. That’s right, a seller could be ineligible for seller protection if they aren’t meeting Etsy’s preferred message response times. (Note they don’t define “promptly”, so I have no clue whether 24 hours or 48 hours is too long for seller protection.)

There’s also the flip side to be worried about: what happens if your displayed response time is much faster than your real response time? Surprisingly, I am hearing from sellers who tell me that Etsy says their usual response time is just 1 hour, which they say is completely inaccurate, and they worry this will set unrealistic buyer expectations. 

Lastly, even when accurate, this notice disadvantages sellers who work fulltime  jobs where they cannot spend time on Etsy, as well as sellers who live in time zones where they will be asleep when the vast majority of Etsy buyers - Americans - are sending them messages. Shop owners without employees who spend long hours actually making their items are also at a disadvantage; replying to messages immediately throughout the day is a lot less efficient than handling them twice a day all at once. On a site with so many sole proprietors, and where you can’t have an employee handle shop messages without giving them access to all of your banking and credit card data, does it make sense to be pushing response times so hard? This is not what many would call “keeping commerce human.”

Needless to say, Etsy needs to fix the errors immediately. The potential harm to affected shops is serious. 

What Can We Do About This?

Unless we know why these response times are sometimes wrong, we can’t guarantee we won’t have a slow response time displayed. Etsy refuses to tell me which messages it took me “a few days” to reply to, so we’re wandering in the dark here. There is no one approach that is guaranteed to work. 

One seller on Reddit suggested using the auto-reply feature all of the time, so buyers always get a response immediately. Bizarrely, this seems like a good suggestion. The notice displayed on your shop does not change when you set the auto-reply, so the buyer has no warning they might not get a real response quickly, and you can compose the auto-reply to say anything you want. However, I suspect that Etsy would frown upon this solution, so it would likely hurt you if your shop goes under review for any other reason. Also, they may have some way of monitoring shops that always have auto-reply on, which could eventually garner your shop a warning. Then there is the fact that the auto-reply can only be set for 5 days maximum, so anyone trying this needs to make sure they reset it each time it runs out. 

Another seller in my Reddit thread said they may start marking every message that doesn’t need a reply as spam. That’s obviously going to annoy Etsy, and could potentially hurt a buyer if they get their messages muted from too many spam reports. We also can’t be sure the spam filter does remove all messages from this notice process, even though Etsy said it does, because we know there is an error somewhere. Definitely always mark actual spam as spam, though; there is no downside to that. 

If you have an incorrect response time displayed, you must contact Etsy to complain. Use this link to contact them, and ask why they are showing this when it is not true. Ask if they are counting duplicate messages from the same person as separate threads needing replies. Ask why they won’t turn this off until it works correctly. Don’t give up. 

It’s also necessary to get the word out on this one. Etsy falsely claiming a seller has slow customer service - something that is guaranteed to drive away some buyers - is coming darn close to outright defamation. 

If your response time notice is inaccurate, please contact me here or on my website; we need to strategize how we are going to force Etsy to fix this inaccuracy. 

This post will be updated as required. 

Last updated: January 28th at 4:40 pm MT. 

[breanime]

Tiny Little Increments (Part Five)

Look who’s not making you wait a whole month for an update for once--ME! Please comment and let me know what you think about this one!

*gif not mine*

Logan was gone when you woke up, but he left you a note on the side table.

Good morning princess,

Something came up with the company, but I’ll be back before lunch. Order yourself some breakfast, clothing optional.

See you soon,

Your Logan

“Your Logan”. You smiled as you got up and stretched. You were hungry—Logan had worked you up so well last night, you’d worked up an appetite. But you wanted to check on the kids first. You called the house—from the hotel phone because you didn’t want to use your minutes up—and waited to see who answered.

“Hello?” Of course Emma was already up.

“Hey Em,” you said, throwing yourself back onto the bed, “How’s everything going?”

“Hi! We’re fine. How are you? How’s Logan?”

“Good, I’m good, he’s good,” you answered, “Did Frank come back?”

“Yeah, I made him breakfast. Now he’s sleeping on the couch because Jeremy wouldn’t let him in any of the rooms.” You heard her sigh. “But he said he’s going to let me wash his hair later after he wakes up! Are you coming home soon?”

“In a few hours,” you said, making an effort not to roll your eyes at the image of Emma cleaning up your father for fun, “I’m bringing home supplies for the house, too.”

“Good—put them in the storage closet when you get home, and I’ll add them to my inventory later.”

You heard a muffled sound on her end, and you knew it was Liam. “Don’t give Liam any sweets until he at least tries to use his big boy potty,” you instructed her.

“Y/N says you can have your num-nums if you use your big boy potty,” Emma recited, and you heard an affirmative answering shout from your baby brother before he toddled off, “Is Logan there? Tell him I said hi.”

“He’s not here, but I’ll give him the message. I should be home before dinnertime, but if I’m not, I want you and Cam to take baths and pick out your outfits for school, have Ethan start dinner, and if Frank’s not out by noon, ask Jeremy to get him out.”

“But—”

“No buts, Em. You have school tomorrow,” you said, “So enjoy this time with Frank while you can, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, a pout clear in her voice.

“Okay. I’ll be home in a few hours. I love you, Em.”

“Love you, too Y/N.”

You hung up and walked over to the dining area, grabbing a menu and flipping it over to the breakfast side. After you called down and placed your order, you went around the suite and started collecting things to bring home, knowing that Logan was cool with it. You packed up some of your breakfast after you ate to take home to the kids, and by the time you were dressed and lounging on the sofa watching TV, Logan walked in.

Except he wasn’t alone. He was followed by a nervous looking guy in a suit holding a briefcase.

“Hey…” You stood up, unsure of what was going on.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Logan said, pulling you to him and pressing a firm kiss to your lips. “Y/N, meet Brent, Brent meet Y/N. Did you eat?”

“Yeah, uh…” You watched as Logan threw himself on the couch with a grin on his face. “Yeah, I did.”

“So, Brent has a few applications for you,” Logan said, patting the space next to him as an invitation, “He’s great with figures and loans and all that… boring shit.” You walked over to Logan, but didn’t sit down. “He’s gonna help you apply for some loans and scholarships and—”

“—what the hell are you talking about?” You asked. You turned to see Brent at the table, taking out piles of papers and a big ass calculator. You turned back to Logan.

“For colleges,” he said back as if the answer was obvious, “And a few internships within our company.”

“Why?”

Logan cocked his head to the side. “For you. You said you wanted to get into business.”

“I said I would have wanted to get into business. I don’t—” You turned back to Brent, who was looking very out of place in his tailored suit. “I’m sorry to waste your time,” you said, “but I won’t be needing your help.”

“Yes, she will,” Logan said.

“No. I won’t,” you frowned down at Logan.

“Y/N…” He started.

You turned back to Brent, hands held out. “I barely got my high school diploma; I was all set to graduate with top marks when real life hit, and I almost dropped out my last semester. I never went to college, I don’t have any background in business or working in an office, and I can’t commit to a fulltime job right now.” You then turned to Logan. “Sorry, you’ll have to find a different girl to fuck and hire.” You stomped back into the bedroom, gathering your things and slinging your bag over your shoulder.

Logan was standing when you walked back out into the main area. “Y/N—” He said, following you out. “Where are you going?”

“Home,” you pulled out your phone and called your favorite cab company, “Yeah, hey Julian, I need a ride from downtown to the South Side.” You gave him the directions, ignoring Logan’s protests beside you.

Logan was still talking when you hung up the phone. “Why are you leaving? You don’t have to leave—at least let me take you home.”

“No thanks,” you stared straight ahead, arms crossed.

“Y/N, come back inside. Just listen to what Brent has to say—”

“Why? I’m not going to work for you, Logan. I’m not going to college, I’m not…” You sighed, glancing over at him. “Look, thanks for last night. I really had a good time, I did, but… You need to get back to work, and so do I.”

“Are you serious right now?” Logan asked, moving to stand in front of you. “I’m trying to help you—”

“—I don’t NEED your help!” You snapped back. “I don’t want your help, okay?”

“Yeah, cause you’re doing so fine on your own?” He sneered.

“Yeah! Exactly!” You cried back. “So fuck off!”

“So what?” He asked, dark eyes narrowing as he looked at you. “The poor girl from the South Side is so used to bill collectors and government cheese that you’re too damn scared to give this a chance? To at least listen?” He laughed bitterly. “I fucking thought you were fearless.”

“This isn’t a fucking game to me, Logan,” you said back, “You can’t just come into my life and think cause we fucked a few times and you have cash that you can just… Wave your hand and make all my problems go away.”

“I know that! I’m just trying to help—”

“I don’t need your help,” you said again, stepping up to face him, “I don’t need anyone’s help—”

“—Yeah, because your cracked-out father and penny-pinching baby sister are perfect examples of how well your life is going,” he shot back.

Your eyes widened, and it felt like your blood was on fire. “You don’t know my family,” you said lowly, “and you don’t know me, so stay the fuck out of my business.”

Logan smirked, and for once, you didn’t like the way it looked on his face. “But I do know you, Y/N. I know you’re scared. I know you don’t think you can do it,” he shrugged, “and why should you? You’re just some poor chick with above average pussy,” he stepped back from you, shaking his head. “I should have known you’d run scared.” His smirk turned to a sneer again. “You’re just like your mother.”

It felt like a punch to the gut, what he said. It felt like your heart was made of glass, and Logan had just thrown it off a roof. Your entire body went cold at his words. You’re just like your mother. You wanted to throw up. You felt tears in your eyes, but you glared over at him all the same. “You don’t know me,” you said again, emphasizing every word. It was the truth, after all. Logan didn’t know you; he didn’t know what it was like to be in your shoes. He’d taken a short detour into your world, but he’d only come as a voyeur. He didn’t know—he couldn’t know.

Logan shook his head again, and you could see the disappointment behind the sneer, watched the twinkle in his eyes turn cold. The revelation that he was seeing you now, for the first time, as you really were, was almost as painful as his words were. Almost. “I thought you were different,” he said, “special. But you’re just another fucking coward, too chicken shit to go after what she really wants.”

Now you shook your head. “You don’t know what I want.” You took a breath, trying to steady yourself. “And even if you did, you wouldn’t be able to give it to me. Contrary to what you probably believe, money can’t fix everything, and it damn sure can’t buy me. I’m not for sale.”

“You sure about that, sweetheart?” He asked, titling his head. “Because you sure were accommodating when I was buying groceries and pouring champagne.” He stepped closer to you again, and each word out of his mouth was like a slap in the face. “Those legs opened really fast, didn’t they, after that room service came. And I could practically smell you getting wet when I pulled up in the Ferrari,” he grinned, “Bet you were dripping as soon as we walked into the lobby.” He took another step; he was close enough to slap. To kiss. “Everything has a price, sweetheart, and I hate to break it to you, but you’re pretty cheap.” His eyes bore into yours, hard as steel, and for a moment, you could see just why he was such a successful businessman. He was fucking ruthless. Logan’s hand slid to your waist, and even though his touch should have repelled you, you leaned into it, desperate for one last feel of his skin against yours. “We could probably come up with a kind of payment plan,” he went on, “after all, Frank told you to do anything to keep me happy, didn’t you?”

You nodded. “Yeah,” you answered, “yeah, he did.” You took a breath and stepped back, out of Logan’s reach. Without another word, you jammed your hand into your purse and pulled out your wallet, taking every last bill and coin into your fist and shoving it into his chest. “I know it’s not a lot, but that should at least cover the champagne and food,” you said as Logan, wide-eyed, looked down at your hand and up at you in a cycle, stunned. You stepped back, hands up. “That’s all I have on me, but I’ll get the rest to you by the end of the week,” you swore.

“Y/N, I don’t—”

“—No, no, it’s good,” you assured him, shrugging your shoulders, “I’m good for it, don’t sweat it.”

“I don’t need you to—” He tried again, his strong, powerful hands holding onto the cash with uncertainty. There were fallen coins and bills at his feet, crumpled as they were shifted softly in the wind.

Julian was pulling up—prompt as usual, and you swallowed before turning back to Logan. “I’ll get you the rest,” you repeated, tightening your hold on your bag, “I’ll call your office and leave it for you, don’t worry.” Julian was out of the car now, opening the back door for you with a quizzical look on his face. His wife sometimes bought your urine to pass drug tests, and he was an old friend of the family. He was always willing to come pick you or your siblings up in a pinch. “The end of the week,” you said again, tossing your bag into the cab.

“Y/N, wait—” Logan said, taking a step. He stopped in his tracks when Julian gave him a look.

You smiled at Logan, tears still prickling at the back of your throat. “Go fuck yourself,” you said cheerfully, sliding into the car. You didn’t turn around, just murmured a quiet “thank you” to Julian as he pulled out of the lot.

And then you cried all the way home.

You didn’t have anything to tip Julian with—obviously, but he said it’d be on the house if you would have Emma bake him something sweet.

You walked in the house, ignoring Frank (both the image of him and the smell) on the couch, and went straight to your room. You opened up the loose floorboard underneath your bed and took out the lockbox you kept there. In the box were you and your siblings’ legal documents (social security cards, birth certificates, personal documents that had to be kept out of Frank’s reach so he didn’t steal your identities and ruin all of your credit), and several envelopes full of money.

“Y/N?” Emma’s voice was behind you, but you didn’t turn around. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine, Em.”

“What are you doing?” Jeremy asked. You did turn then; Emma, Jeremy, Cam, Ethan, and Liam were all in your doorway, wearing matching looks of concern.

“I need to dip into our savings,” you answered, turning back and collecting 20s from the envelope titled ‘$ for Interview Clothes’.

“You in The Life or Death Do Not Tell Frank About This fund or the Miscellaneous fund?” Jeremy asked.

“Miscellaneous. I have a debt to pay.”

“How much do you need?” Ethan asked. “I get paid Friday, I can help.”

“I have a few bills on me,” Jeremy added, “I got a tutoring gig after school tomorrow, so I’ll have about $50 on me then.”

“I can put in at least $40,” Emma said, “Maybe more, I have to check.” She nudged Cameron.

“Oh,” he shifted Liam on his hip, “I have $15,” he reported, “But I was gonna check Frank’s pockets and see if he had anything I could take or sell.”

“He’s usually got a few pills we can auction off at school,” Jeremy predicted, “Might be worth a few hundred even.”

“Check now,” Ethan said, “Before he wakes up and inhales them all.”

You heard Cam put Liam down and head down the stairs. “Thanks, guys,” you said, counting the cash in your hands, “I’ll pay you back.” You smiled when you felt Liam’s sticky hands on your shoulders.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Jeremy shrugged, “It’s on us.”

Your heart swelled—you really had the best siblings on the planet. You turned to them, smiling.

Cameron walked back into the room triumphantly, a Ziploc with a handful of loose pills in it in his hands. “Jackpot!” He tossed the bag to Jeremy.

“Nice. We got Oxy, Klonopin, uppers, downers… Frank’s been busy,” Jeremy said, pilfering through the bag. “This’ll sell quick.”

You put the lockbox back and stood up, looking at your siblings. You knew they wanted to ask you why you were home—especially Emma—but instead of grilling you or even rubbing it in, they just wanted to help you. No questions asked. Later, after you’d helped the kids with their homework, packed lunches, cleaned the house, helped Emma bake, and put the younger kids to bed, you sat at the kitchen table with your phone, going through wanted ads online. This, you knew, was where you belonged.

“You got anything to drink?” Frank asked, stumbling into the kitchen. He’d been asleep almost all day, but he still looked exhausted.

“There’s beer in the fridge,” you answered, still scrolling. You didn’t look up until Frank sat across from you at the table, opening his beer. “Long night?” You asked him.

“Longer than yours, from the looks of it,” he said back, eyebrow raised. You didn’t say anything back, just watched as he took out a flask from his pocket and poured the clear liquid into the can of beer. “I know,” he said after taking a swig, “I give you a lot of shit, put a lot on your plate…but I do it because I know you can handle it.”

“No,” you said coolly, “You do it because you’re a prick.”

Frank laughed, and you felt yourself smile back. “Eh… A lil bit of column A, lil bit of column B.” He tilted his head, looking over at you. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Job hunting.” You were working three jobs now, but neither of them was consistent. You needed something long term, but that would work with your schedule with the kids.

“They’re hiring down at The Factory.”

You looked up. “What factory?”

“The Factory. The strip club.” Frank laughed at the look on your face. “They’re looking for shot girls, not dancers. You’d only have to work nights, get good tips, free booze…”

You typed in The Factory on your phone and looked at the website, reviews, and photos while Frank droned on. You pictured your brothers and sister in your head, standing shoulder to shoulder in your bedroom doorway, ready and willing to help you without even knowing why you needed help. You looked over at your father as he opened up another beer, eyes bleary as he began a rant about taxes now. In your head, you could see Logan; standing in his nice clothes, in front of his nice car, so far out of your league that it was embarrassing that you even… You blinked, bringing yourself back to reality. Looking down at your phone, you saw the blinking link at the bottom of The Factory’s website: “help wanted, good hours, great tips—GIRLS ONLY”, and clicked.

That Friday, you caught a cab to Delos Inc. The secretary eyed you up and down as you approached her desk. You were wearing jean shorts, a T-shirt from The Factory, and a pair of Ethan’s old gym shoes. You had your favorite bag—an old cloth purse you’d found on the bus when you were 19—slung over your shoulders. Inside was an envelope full of cash.

“Hi,” you said, trying to be friendly, “I’m here to see Logan Delos.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry,” she said slowly, “I’m afraid Mr. Delos is in a meeting. May I take a message?”

You huffed out a breath. You’d wanted to get this done now; you’d hyped yourself up to come see him, you couldn’t just walk away. “Do you know when he’ll be done?”

“I’m afraid not.” She gave you a tight smile, and you wondered how expensive her lipstick was. “Bye-bye now.”

You gave her an equally fake smile. “I’ll wait.” Still smiling, you plopped yourself down on the couch, crossing your legs. The secretary’s smile vanished, and you watched as she went back to her computer, glancing back at you every few minutes as she typed. Bitch.

After 23 minutes of waiting, you took out your phone to distract yourself. You texted Vee—who’d also gotten a job at The Factory (as a stripper, so she was making a lot more money than you were) and asked her how the day crowd was. Of all the things that had come out of Frank’s mouth, his recommendation for The Factory was the only one that ever led to some good. You were making good money at The Factory, slinging drinks and wiping down tables. Sure, some of the customers could get handsy sometimes, and it wasn’t exactly the kind of job you were especially pleased to be working, but it helped pay the bills—and helped you pay back Logan. Plus, you were still able to work during the day, be home when the kids got to school, and put them to sleep before you went back to work at night. So yeah, you got objectified, and yeah, your uniform was basically black booty shirts and a top specifically designed cleavage, but you were able to give the kids actual lunch money (instead of having to make packed lunches every night), and had started putting some away for bills. And even with all that, you were still able to get a nice envelope together to pay Logan back. Logan… You hadn’t spoken to him since that day at the hotel. You’re just like your mother. It still stung. The memories of his lips on yours, his body moving rhythmically against you, that charming smile and the way he laughed… those stung just as bad as his words did. You felt like an idiot, allowing yourself to even hook up with him in the first place. What were you thinking, letting yourself live that fantasy? You of all people knew how dangerous that was—wanting what you knew damn well you could never have. You were disgusted with yourself. Your self-aimed irritation was interrupted when you heard a door opening and the sound of the secretary’s chair scrapping the floor as she stood up.

“Mr. Delos,” she said breathlessly, “I’m so sorry, I told her you were busy, but she refused to leave—”

You looked up, your eyes meeting Logan’s immediately. He was wearing a suit, and he looked incredible in it. His eyes were wide, clearly surprised to see you at his place of work. You stood up, ready to give him the envelope and go, when you heard the secretary speak again as someone else walked into the lobby behind Logan.

“Oh, Ms. Delos, I didn’t know you were here!”

You froze, eyes darting over to the woman the secretary was addressing. She was gorgeous, with chestnut colored eyes, dark hair, and a killer pants suit with red pumps that would have been more at place at your job then these posh offices. She eyed you with something between suspicion and interest, and you stared back, momentarily ignoring Logan.

Ms. Delos?

*******************************************************************************************

Ooooh, let me know what you thought of their fight! Who was wrong? Who was right? Does anyone have a favorite sibling yet? Raise your hand if you love Frank!

Thanks for reading!

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[grimmseye]

A Bird in the Hand: Chapter Three

Read on Ao3 here!

Rating: T

Fandom: Critical Role

Relationships: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss, Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (eventual)

Chapter Characters: Mollymauk Tealeaf, Essek Thelyss

Chapter Tags/Warnings: Molly Rez, Amnesiac Mollymauk, Oh My God They Were Roommates, Shopping Episode, Mental Health Stigma, Molly’s Not Okay, Essek Isn’t Either But He Sure Can Pretend

---------

The bed was the single most comfortable place Mollymauk had been in his entire life.

His entire memory consisted of about a month or two or three of running amok in between: sleeping in the dirt, fighting or running for his short fraction of a life, and passing out in the dirt again. Rinse and repeat until he was here, in a bed that was actually worth more than a few silver pieces a night, and he was certain that he never wanted to leave. The warmth of the blankets and the comfort of the mattress and the pillow under his head granted the deepest sleep he knew of.

He was clean. His back didn’t hurt. There were no screaming monstrosity trying to eat him. Life just might be a thing worth living, Mollymauk realized. Up until now, it had just felt like an exceedingly cruel joke.

The clattering downstairs was a bit less glorious. He buried his face in the pillow, trying to block out the sound. This was his home now. Forever. Warm and soft and safe, always. Luxury was the only way to live.

Except he did have to piss. And there was a hunger gnawing at his stomach. The prison hadn’t granted him much in the way of meals, nor had Essek offered one last night, which was yet another strike against his hosting ability. And so began Mollymauk’s valiant effort to convince himself that getting out of bed meant relieving all the aches and insistences of his body.

Once he’d eaten, he could simply return to bed, Molly reminded himself, and that was the final burst of motivation he needed to let his hooves touch the floor.

Clean, folded clothes were set just inside the door. He’d slept through it being opened, apparently, something that would have gotten him killed out in the wilds of Xhorhas. Perhaps that was what hedonism meant, self-indulgence to the point of destruction.

Worth it, he snickered, pulling his clothes on before wandering out into the corridor. A trip to the bathroom later, he was sliding down the stair’s rail and to the first floor, following the scent of a slightly-burned something to the kitchen.

Essek was wearing an apron. The material was stiff, like a gift given and never worn, and the straps were tied in a knot that would be a pain to undo later. Still, Molly leaned in the doorframe, smiling to himself at the sight of the respectable Shadowhand grimacing over a pan of sausages.

“Staring at ‘em won’t get you far,” Mollymauk informed him, enjoying the stiffness that jerked into Essek’s back. It eased a moment later, and he had to admit he was impressed by the man’s poise as he turned around to give a perfectly polite smile.

“I hope you’ve rested well,” Essek greeted. He waved to the pan, saying, “I’ve only just started cooking.”

Mollymauk scanned the rest of the kitchen. There was only the one pan on the stove. Only sausages were in the aforementioned pan. No bread or eggs or porridge or anything at all to go with it, traditional breakfasts be damned. “Do you just have that, or…?” He let the question trail out.

Essek frowned at the pan. “I had some groceries sent over, so I need to look through those to determine what would go best with this.”

“Probably should have started with that. Meat cooks fast, and it’ll be cold by the time anything else is ready.” Molly trotted into the kitchen, making a beeline for what was probably the pantry, hanging off one door as he swung it open. He grabbed a loaf of bread, searching for the knife drawer as he chirped, “This will do! Do you want butter, jelly? Do you have those, actually, before I go too far.”

“Butter, yes,” Essek said, watching him with a furrowed brow. Molly hummed as he found the toaster, clamping each slice between metal bars and lighting another flame at the stove to toast them. “And, I am sure they brought preserves of some kind.”

“Wonderful, wonderful.” Perhaps it wasn’t the three course breakfast in bed he would have liked, but the way his stomach was growling, the room-temperature bread alone was looking pretty delicious.

Something took the toaster’s handle from his grasp. Molly blinked in surprise as he watched it continue to turn without his grip, held aloft by an —

“Invisible servant,” Essek explained. “You should sit down. You’re my guest, don’t trouble yourself on my behalf.”

“If you insist,” Molly shrugged. The table was already set, and he had no qualms with falling into a chair to tip it back against the wall and watch Essek work. He was a meticulous fellow. As out of his element as he seemed, fumbling around breakfast plans and overlooking a guest’s needs, there was something very precise in the man’s every detail. The way he moved, drifting rather than walking. Long fingers, clever fingers. A spellcaster’s hands, something in his brain told him, though he didn’t know where it came from. Molly wouldn’t be surprised if Essek were timing things exactly before removing the pan from the stove, the toaster from the flame.

As elaborate as the display was, breakfast itself was comicall plain. Toast and sausages, served upon gilded plates over a pristine tablecloth, water poured into crystal glasses. Mollymauk couldn’t help but lean deep to one side just to check if Essek’s butt was seated fully in his chair, and he felt some disappointment to find that it was.

“I apologize for the simplicity of the meal,” Essek started.

Mollymauk rolled his eyes. “Quit apologizing. I’m still enjoying the bedrest afterglow and the sound of feigned guilt will ruin it.”

“Feigned guilt —”

“Or just shame for your performance?” Molly suggested. “I get the picture. All of this,” he waved to the room they sat in, “is a stage. To impress and entertain, and to follow the script. And you, my friend, are the fulltime actor now that I’m here. One person is always in the audience. And I don’t mean any criticism by that — well, maybe some, but I am a hypocrite. For some reason, I greatly respect the art of entertainment, so at the very least I’m not looking down on you.” He smiled.

Essek’s expression didn’t change, but there was something colder in the glint of his eyes. “You have quite the… active imagination,” he commented, perfectly polite as the script demanded.

“Thank you,” Molly grinned, all teeth.

Essek insisted he didn’t help wash the dishes, and for a blissful moment Mollymauk truly believed he would just spend the rest of the day in that lovely, lovely bed. Instead he heard, “Well, we should be heading out, now. We’ll get your measurements done first and then you can spend a few hours at the spa, if you would like.”

Spa was a word as sweet as bed. Mollymauk had his boots laced in a heartbeat. He looked up to Essek, just in time to be treated to the sight of the elf floating over a pair of fine dress shoes, his long mantle hiding them from view. A moment later, when he moved away, the shoes had vanished from the floor.

Molly sputtered. Essek gave him a Look, a furrowed both and a thin frown as Mollymauk wheezed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Nothing, it’s nothing,” he breathed. “How many of the fine folk here absorb their shoes each morning, or is it just a quirky thing you do?”

Essek opened his mouth. Sharp teeth, Molly noted, approvingly. He closed his mouth, drew in a deep breath, and sighed before drifting for the door. “It’s polite to arrive at your appointments a few minutes early,” he said, smoothly ignoring Mollymauk. “We should leave now to ensure that.”

“Sure, sure,” Molly smiled, sauntering after him.

The streets of the city were disorientingly dark. His brain insisted it was morning, and that they should be strolling through the pale light of the eastern sun. He remembered first seeing that eerie cloud during his journey, hanging in the distance and feeling like an ill omen from so far away. The road to his life, to filling the hole in his chest, sat under a curtain of black.

Now he knew it to just be thanks to the drow’s sensitive eyes. Essek’s were nearly pale as the moon, the softest lavender with no visible pupils.

As he stared, Essek’s ear twitched. His head turned faintly to the side, a glance through the corner of his eye finding Mollymauk’s. “What is it?” Essek asked, facing him completely.

“Oh, nothing,” Molly said. As sincere as the comment would be, strangers didn’t often appreciate his compliments, or took them the wrong way. Molly appreciated different things about the body — the way the merchant’s knuckles jutted out, and the fingers narrowed in between each joint, the lopsided quality to a bartender’s smile and his crooked teeth, or the eerie, nearly-snowblind quality to this dark elf’s eyes. Eerie wasn’t bad. Eerie was captivating, lured him in, left him incapable of looking away. Yet very few people would hear his words how he intended them.

Even with the deflection, Essek kept staring at him. Mollymauk only smiled politely and took hold of his own tail to twine it between his fingers.

They passed large, elaborate properties, many guarded or gated or both. Even once they left the residential area, it was clear they were in the upper class portion of the city. Every last person was dressed nearly as elaborately as Essek. They stared openly, too, and that pointed to being the audacious sort, which Mollymauk wouldn’t entirely mind if it weren’t so rude. He only shook his hair back and started whistling a jolly tune, letting his hooves clack on the pavement in time with the song.

Essek snorted once, what was possibly a laugh. Molly had to grin, counting that a considerable victory.

They hailed a carriage passing on the streets, letting it carry them the rest of the way. Their destination was a sight that made Molly’s tail twist with excitement: a single story building with glass windows displaying suits and dresses and jewelry and an entire array of gorgeous things to wear. Some were far too classy for his liking, but there were enough bold patterns to make him salivate.

They passed through glass doors, a small bell chining overhead. “If any of these are to your liking, you can tell Brirr,” Essek said, gesturing around the shop. “She’s quite talented at matching up your desire with something that will still look respectable.”

“You’re not gonna get respectable from me,” Mollymauk murmured, as he admired a set of earrings. One was a star, a golden stud matched with a dangling silver moon. There were ear cuffs, meant for elves but perhaps he could make them fit the shorter tiefling ears — there had to be variations, after all.

The browsing was interrupted by the seamstress’ arrival. Seamstress Brirr was a bugbear woman, her broad paws doing surprisingly delicate work as she took Mollymauk’s measurements and chatted him up. She questioned his style preference, and his answers seemed to make her eyes gleam. “As loud as you can get while still looking beautiful,” Mollymauk insisted. “Clashing patterns are fine, I can make them work.”

“I’m sure you can,” she rumbled, baring her teeth in a fanged smile. It would feel threatening if Molly couldn’t see his own delight mirrored back at him.

It took far less time than expected. She ushered them out, promising to send word as his outfits were completed, and taking a hefty bag of coin from Essek.

Mollymauk’s ears tilted back. “I didn’t realize how much that was going to cost you,” he started.

Essek waved it off. “The Mighty Nein are heroes of the Dynasty. The least I can do is provide clothes for their friend. We can find more basic wear around the other shops. And — this is yours.”

He passed a small box to Mollymauk, whose eyebrows crept upward as he examined it. Brirr’s name was written onto it in glittering gold ink.

The earrings were inside, the golden star and hanging silver moon. Mollymauk went still as he stared at them, stunned into quiet.

“... If you didn’t want them, I’m sure we could exchange them,” Essek started, when the silence stretched too long.

“ Nope. ” Mollymauk plucked the stud out, fumbling with his ear. “These are mine now, no takebacks.” He swallowed, and then smiled up at Essek. “Thank you. And, be a dear, would you? I can’t do this without a mirror.”

Essek paused before reaching, hesitantly, for the piercing. He was almost too delicate as he tugged Molly’s earlobe, feeding the point through and letting Mollymauk press the back into place. The same was repeated for the other piece, a comfortable weight swinging off his ear. His tail flicked back and forth in unison.

A steady warmth welled up in his chest. He just might like Essek.

Darting from store to store was a process. Essek was silent as Molly browsed, and offered stilted, neutral commentary when asked for opinions. There was something absolutely delightful about dynasty fashion, and that was that with the number of elves with blue and purple skintones, there were more viable options for him than Mollymauk had ever encountered in his brief life.

It was with bags weighing his arms that they at last turned for the promised event: the spa. “This,” Mollymauk breathed, “is shaping up to be the best day of my life. Now, that wasn’t very hard to top, but I think you’re allowed to be proud of yourself.”

Essek let out a soft breath that Molly was starting to recognize as a laugh of sorts. “I’m… honored,” he said. There was a pause before he added, “You haven’t asked many questions.”

“Should I be?” Molly asked mildly, and then smirked. “Oh! There’s one.”

The humor seemed to be lost on his host, as he only said without missing a beat, “It must have been a harrowing journey to get here. It’s well known that the lands outside our cities are dangerous. And you claim that you came all this way, with no memory of the Nein you are pursuing, because of a note?”

“That’s right,” Molly nodded.

“And yet you haven’t tried to find out who they are.”

The words hung in the air a moment longer than they should have. Mollymauk’s gaze shifted away, a low hum sounding in his throat. Tieflings could purr, did so when they were calm and relaxed. A deeper rumble was reserved for the purpose of relax ing, soothing bristling nerves, and now his chest vibrated with that deeper sound. “It’s about the journey, not the destination,” Molly said. “But sure, I’ll bite. How about you tell me their names?”

Essek paused. “Well,” he said. “First, there is Caleb.”

A sensation of heat flashed over Mollymauk’s skin, like a hand drifted too close to a flame.

“There is Beauregard. Expositor Beauregard.”

A mixed sensation — the need to laugh and to snarl in the same moment.

“There is… Jester. Who very much lives up to her name.”

The snarl faded, just a smile, pure fondness and the want to laugh and to make laugh.

“There is Nott.”

An unnamed emotion. Suspicion, and appreciation. The respect for a good grift and the understanding he may be the next mark.

“And there is Fjord. He is typically well-spoken.” A note of derision entered Essek’s voice.

It was familiar to Mollymauk, comfortable and warm.

“And there is Caduceus. He is unusual, but has a keen eye.”

That one, Mollymauk felt nothing. He blinked, silenced by the sudden twisting in his chest. The hole bored just to the right of his heart was suddenly squirming, uncomfortable. This was why he didn’t want to know.

“Oh, there is one more,” Essek murmured. “She was gone for a long while. Yasha.”

It ached. He was nearly breathless from it, heat behind his eyes and a sudden yawning want, his skin felt cold, the air around him empty when there should be something filling up the space behind him, guarding his back, holding his heart. Delicate and dangerous as belladonna.

Yasha. Yasha. His heart, his heart was gone, that was the hole in his chest, hollowed out and, “Empty.”

The word was what caught Essek’s attention. Or, not the word, but the inflection behind it. It was the dullest he’d heard Mollymauk’s voice, and the sound was nothing short of alien.

“Empty,” he said again, but it shook this time. And then he gasped and clutched at himself, wheezing on a breath and stammering out, “Empty. Empty. E-empty, empty, empty.”

“Mollymauk —” Essek halted. The streets weren’t crowded, but those passing by had already been staring. Now they watched as the tiefling hugged himself and babbled, wide-eyed. The bags he’d been carrying slumped to the ground as he started to sink, until Essek moved forward to catch his weight.

Arms flung around him. He tensed, heart skipping with a brief panic before he realized Molly wasn’t attacking him, but clinging. He was shoving his face into his chest and muffling each empty into his clothes.

People were staring. A hot flush burned Essek’s skin as he burned magic far stronger than he should have to get the bags to lift themselves and travel along as he struggled to untangle Mollymauk’s grasp.

He sucked in a sharp breath, shutting off his own panic. Essek tipped Mollymauk’s chin up, forcing the tiefling’s wild eyes to lock with his own. “ Mollymauk ,” he crooned, enchantment lacing his voice. “ You’re okay. Just follow me and everything will be okay. I promise that you’re safe with me.”

The tiefling had been able to shake this magic before, but perhaps thanks to his scrambled mind, Molly’s eyes glazed over. The panicked breaths evened out. The hand still fisted in his clothes relaxed. Essek took it, leading him without resistance through the streets.

Enchantment was a dangerous school of magic. Few people appreciated having their minds toyed with, emotions changed, reasoning blurred. But this was necessary, Essek told himself. Mollymauk had been having some kind of a fit in the middle of the streets.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen such a thing. Soldiers often collapsed into wails or tears or labored breaths. He himself had experienced these fits before. Stress weighing on the brain, he knew, all fairly common in his occupation but not to be witnessed. Not to be displayed.

He tugged Mollymauk along to a public park, to find a secluded spot to sit him down. A bench was framed by brambles, dark blooms resting among thorns. Mollymauk sat, stilted and doll-like, to stare blankly Essek’s way. He wasn’t charmed, just convinced of the truth Essek had told him: as long as he were here, as long as Mollymauk followed him, there would be no troubles.

Essek braced himself as he dropped his hold on the spell.

The light returned to Mollymauk’s eyes. There was a beat before he stiffened, and then leaped to his feet, pulling away from Essek. His lip curled, a snarl on his face as he bit out, “Do not — N'bb sph oep jlqh hnal.” A hiss of infernal rose from Molly’s throat, the hair at the back of Essek’s neck standing on end.

He raised his hands. “I apologize,” he said, and Mollymauk silenced to just glower and pant. “I apologize,” he repeated. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

The moment stretched out, the air thick between them. Molly’s tail twisted and lashed, and Essek’s ears pinned low. He saw the tiefling’s throat bob as he swallowed and puffed out a breath.

“Fine,” he said, short and harsh. None of Mollymauk’s jovial attitude remained, not in his posture nor his voice. “But do not do it again. This is why I don’t ask questions.”

“I understand,” Essek murmured. Calm and rational, that was what he needed.

He watched as Molly calmed himself. It was a visible process, grasping his tail by the base and sliding up to its spaded tip, like smoothing wrinkles from a garment. The tension dropped from his shoulders, he shook his head and swept his hair back into place.

“Okay,” Molly said. “I forgive you. But you had better get me to that spa now, or I’m rescinding my forgiveness.”

“Generous of you,” Essek gave a thin smile, one that didn’t betray his relief. He started forward again, saying, “Right this way, Mister Tealeaf.”

After a moment, he heard the clopping of hooves following. “As you command, Mister Thelyss,” Mollymauk called. It was pleasant to hear the smile in his voice.

[chelsmcd]

10 Years... 10 freakin years...

The end of a decade has come... Where does time go? How does it seemingly go by so quickly?  

How many of us can clearly remember 2010? Or, more accurately, the end of 2009 and getting ready to ring in the new year?  I can tell you, my life now, is definitely not where I thought it would be at this time 10 years ago.  To be honest, it took some serious thought to try and figure out all the things that have happened in the last 10 years, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t look to Facebook for some help (thank you young Chelsea... for documenting almost EVERYTHING you did).

10 years ago... I was living in Pickering at my mom’s place, I think this was for “financial” reasons, but also, it was just easier.  I had only lived away for 4ish years, but was back under her roof, her rules (luckily I had very few rules... I still like to brag I was never given a curfew as a kid, there were only a couple of “Chelsea... this is too late to be coming home” run ins).  

10 years ago... I had no worries, no responsibilities, nothing tying me to anyone or anywhere.  I was, for all intents and purposes... very free, and a very free spirit.

9 years ago, I was working for a Trampoline company.  Insert all the bad dad jokes here: it was really up and down, we had bad days but we’d always rebound, yadda yadda yada.  I was also running my side hustle of working with a race car team (scroll through some old posts on here to find the videos I used to make... man... we had some good times! Some great friends have been made).

9 years ago, I was getting by, living life, earning a salary, hanging with friends and just doing whatever I wanted.  Life wasn’t challenging, but it also wasn’t overly fulfilling. I’m 3 years out of University, I’m doing OK, having fun.  But I wasn’t... genuinely happy.  Not with what I was doing anyway. I was young, I was, perhaps naive to what the world ahead of me held, but hey, these are my glory years... what does it matter anyway?  My biggest issue was paying my car insurance and having the right outfit for my next night out. 

8 years ago, I feel like I finally started my life.  Like I started, as an adult, and started making decisions based on what was right for me, and not necessarily cool and fun right now.  8 years ago, in 2011, I took a chance on me (at the encouragement of one unwaveringly supportive mom) - I moved to Cornwall to start in the radio world.  The fear in that move was rivaled by the excitement of what could be.  It wasn’t my first time living away (although this was the furthest), it wasn’t the first time being responsible for paying rent (and thankfully, this was the cheapest), it wasn’t the first time for a lot of things - but it was the first time I felt like I was finally choosing me and my path over what was convenient.  It turned out to be where my life, and I’d say my career path really began.  This was the first dive into media - where I would get a chance to be ‘on air’ - those words still hold weight for me.  Being... ON... AIR.  Someone saw something in me, and while it was maybe 3 times per hour over 3 hours x 2 days a week... it was SOMETHING!  

While I didn’t know it... that decision 8 years ago, led to some major moves 7 years ago.  When I moved again, to a place that would steal my heart.

7 years ago, I moved to Kingston and started co-hosting the morning show there. Whoda thunk I’d be a morning show host? Buzz and I had an amazing couple of years together. While we were in very different spots in our career paths, I felt like any road bump I hit, he was there to offer support, guidance, and in some instances ride on through with me.  Buzz - I don’t know if you’ll read this, but thank you, thank you for being an ally, a friend, a mentor and all around great human.  I know this decade has had its ups and definitely its hardest moments no one would ever wish upon someone.  We don’t keep in touch as much as I thought we would, but I have so much respect for you and how you’ve handled the past few years specifically.  Your strength is inspiring.

6 years ago I started in sports “officially”.  Who knew how much this would impact my future? Who knew that would bring my back to Toronto (but that’s  a story for another year)?  As an in-arena host for a Junior Hockey Team... life was fun! I was on air doing the morning show during the week, napping, and hosting hockey games on the weekends.  Wahoo.  2013 - you were a good year.  You were also the year, and I’m sure anyone reading this that has been around for a while will remember, the #BTheFace contest?   2013 was the year I was one of 4 winners of the Mercedes.  The year we held an awesome party in a dealership in Vaughn where the roof literally caught fire, where I got to go behind the Scenes at Cats, where I got to check out Fashion Week and interview Jeanne Beker.. so many fun memories in 2013.  Maybe the best year of the decade?  May. Be.

5 years ago, I left morning radio, and took a risk on a start up gig, but now... on air ON CAMERA!! People would get to SEE ME!?! I’ve always kind of owned I love the spotlight... and this was no different.  This was a great year, from rapelling off buildings, to driving a poker boat, to joining the police at the shooting range (apparently I’m not too bad with a shotgun FYI), to baking cookies in a fire training facility - I experienced SO many fun things.  And let’s not forget skydiving?!  While I have some wonderful friends who I just hit it off with when I arrived in Kingston (ahem.. looking at you Andi), I think this was the year I also made some valuable friendships that have transcended some time.  Keenan... Andrew - you two are gems.  Absolute gems, and I’m so thankful we still keep in touch.  Heck, Keenan, I think for you, Skydiving changed your life path!!  Andrew - you got a mover out of it years later!  Guys - I am so grateful for your friendship and the memories we’ve had along the way.  Keen, I won’t go into any of the jokes or the memories.... because there truly are WAY to many (but.. like... jam jams).

4 years ago was a big one  - it’s when I admitted I no longer needed the spotlight and accepted the biggest change in the career, leaving media and stepping fulltime into sports.  I know some of my friends from elementary/high school still look at me and think “What are YOU doing in sports?”  - this is not me.  I was not athletic, I was not into sports, but hey... my passion for entertainment (as I later learned) is what brings me fulfillment each and every day. Also... ummm bought a house.  So there’s that (hello highwaisted, stretchy big girl pants).

3 years ago was probably my toughest year of the decade.  Both personally and professionally a lot of challenges, a lot of lessons learned and a year I believe I was happy to close the books on.  While I look back now and can find the silver lining of the person it helped shaped me to be, it was a tough year to live through, and it was a year that forced me to make some decisions and start making some changes so that...

2 years ago... I came back to Toronto.  To start full time in Football.  FOOTBALL!? Now, my dear grandma and great uncle were always Argos & Pinball fans, but for me, it wasn’t something I was passionate about.  Entertainment was the passion, and with a background in sales and game entertainment - I snagged a really neat role with the CFL.  A role that allowed me to travel across the country, a role that expanded my knowledge of sports, a role that helped me feel more fulfilled, more satisfied and see my own opportunity for growth.

While 2018 and 2019 have been busy with a few more nights spent in hotels, a few more pounds on the ol’ bod, a few new friends, a few new hobbies and a heck of a lot of growth, I’m looking forward to the new year.

As I flip the calendar - There are a few things I’m living this year, maybe this decade by... they include lessons I’ve learned on my own, some are advice from others - but all are, in my opinion, worth a moment of reflection.

1. Stay Humble, Hustle Hard : I always have a side hustle it seems.  This past summer I was working in Basketball to expand my skill set.  I don’t know that I will ever need to call upon it, but it’s another sport, another role, another area for growth.  It’s also opportunity for networking, building that professional base.  Not all hustling will be for financial reasons.  Sometimes - the hustle is going to be hard, challenging and require sacrifices... but sometimes, those big sacrifices have the biggest payoff (and sometimes, let’s just be honest, they don’t... but that’s OK too).

2. You have 2 ears and 1 mouth, use them in proportion : I’m a loud mouth, I talk a lot, we all know this, it is not a surprise.  A big lesson the past couple of years was to learn to sit down and listen.  I don’t need to be the first to speak, in fact, sometimes, just listening means you get to learn so much more.You get to hear everyone’s opinions, positions, points of view - and that may lend itself to inform your own position.  Nothing is wrong with not having all the answers right away.  For anyone a little younger, starting out in their career - I urge you to take this one to heart.  Do not confuse this with me suggesting you should not speak up in meetings - but I encourage you to listen a little longer before you do.

3. You’ll never regret the things you do, as much as the things you don’t : in other words, be glad you did something, don’t wish you had done it.  You can not go back and gain an experience once it’s gone.  This is the year for all the 20-20 vision jokes - but we all have 20/20 hindsight.. we all have those moments we wished we had seized, those moments we look back and say “ugh... if only...” I had said yes, I had more time, I knew then what I know now.  Carpe that diem.  Don’t let the world, your moments, your life pass you by. 

4. Settle for nothing less than you are worth : You get to choose what you bring into your life.  You choose your job (I assume you applied for it didn’t you?), you choose where you live, you choose who you are friends with.  YOU.  You are in control of what you bring into your life, how you are treated and how you treat others.  In the professional realm, the company will look out for their bottom line, you need to look out for yours. Be your own advocate. In the personal world, this could be a boyfriend/girlfriend, this could be friends, this could be where you spend your spare time, but you deserve nothing less than what you want to work for.  Don’t be a victim of your life.  Be the champion of it. 

Wake up. Choose to live your most fulfilling life, your most challenging life, your most rewarding life. Choose yourself. But remember - these are your choices, your responsibility to own, your effort to put forth. No one is lucky in life.  There are just those who work, and those who work harder.  I try to choose to be the latter.  It’s led to some great opportunities in life so far, and I hope for many more.

Happy New Year friends.  Cheers to 2020, cheers to a new decade - and cheers to the best self, we each get to choose.

[vivrepourleslivres]

Hey, I know you already graduated so sorry if this is a bit off topic! I'm starting at Oxford next month to do law, and I'm a bit panicked about the reading. I feel like I read pretty slowly, especially if I'm taking notes (which I kind of have to if I want to focus at all), and it just seems like they're so much raw material I don't know if I'll keep up. Is that something you ever struggled with? How many pages did you tend to have to read in a day? I worry I'll have to stop sleeping ngl

Well, congratulations on getting into Oxford! That in and of itself is not an easy task so it’s always a good thing to remember when workload is stressing you out that your tutors must have picked you for a reason, and that they think you can handle it even if sometimes you feel like you can’t. Also, I may not be able to give as many examples as I would like because I’m currently in the process of moving so all my old reading lists and breakdowns are in a box somewhere…

First, everyone struggles with reading. EVERYONE. Even if they don’t admit it. Law is one of, if not the most, intensive subjects when it comes to the sheer amount of reading you have to do. The Law Faculty describes the workload by saying it should be around 30-40 hours a week – a fulltime job essentially. However, this is quite a bit exaggerated. Of course, it all depends on what college you’re in and who your tutors are, but you can get by just fine without forcing yourself to be glued to a textbook/casebook/WestLaw all day:

·         You do not have to read the entire reading list of cases. Your tutors will hopefully make this clear to you, and if they don’t then the finalist lawyers in your college definitely should. Every reading list I was ever given by a tutor had certain cases in bold or marked by an asterisk. These are the must-reads, which you will have to know and come exam time will likely be referencing often. You should read the entirety of these cases, including all the judgements, even if there is no dissent in the case. It’s by knowing the little details in each judge’s reasoning in these cases that you get in the 67-74 mark realm, which is where you want to be. There’s usually a couple of these per reading list, but no more than ten on any one list I would say. For cases that are not bold or marked, your tutor will probably tell you to read these anyway. I did this in my first year and it just stressed me out without helping much. It’s kind of a thing you have to get a feel for. I would read the headnote of the case (so the facts and the summary of the judgement), and decide whether it was important from that. If the case is mentioned a lot in the important cases because it was at one point important precedent, it’s probably still a good idea to read it. If not, and if it is on a very small subsection in the reading list (like trustees de son tort in trusts), I wouldn’t bother. The only other thing I’d add with regards to cases is that recent cases (so for you anything that came out [2017] or later) is probably worth reading because tutors like to bring them up. If your tutor insists that every case is important, look up the faculty reading list for that subject on WebLearn, as the most important cases are highlighted there as well. You can also use the faculty list if you want some more cases/articles for your essay but the tutor hasn’t provided many.

·         Textbook reading can be hit or miss. A good chunk of your weekly reading can come from the assigned textbook chapter. From what I remember it’s usually around 70 pages per subject per week, and for your first two years you’ll be on a subject and a half a term so around 70-140 pages a week from the textbook? Tutors have their own textbook preferences, and will probably point you towards a certain one, but some subjects do not really (in my opinion) fully warrant investment into a textbook – I barely ever used my EU law or my administrative law textbooks, I think I only opened the second for my final! I also think there is something to be said for trying to understand the cases in your own way before reading the textbook, as some of the authors are very biased in their explanations. Other subjects however (especially Intro to Roman Law) are more focussed on textbooks because of their nature. You’ll figure it out pretty quickly though were textbooks are important and where they’re not. I would however highly suggest the Text, Cases, and Materials series though! These combine a textbook and a casebook, and are pretty up-to-date on new developments. My contract one was honestly a god send, and I cut a lot of cases and textbook reading out of my week because of those books.

·         Articles. I’ll be honest, I would usually only read an article if it directly correlated to the essay, or was under 20 pages. Articles are your tools for getting a 70s, but you can get very high 2:1s without having to read many of them. Articles in my opinion are more time consuming than textbook reading – there was a week of admin reading that ended in five 60 articles on the same topic and that was actual hell.  It’s also rather difficult in an exam setting to remember many articles and academic viewpoints unless you completely drill them into your head so… Yeah – you don’t need to read many, and you certainly don’t have to read all of them (but if you’re really interested in the subject and have the time – go for it!)

·         Legislation. This applies mainly to land law and it’s heavy reliance on statute – literally glance at the sections on the list and post them all into a word document which you keep open during tutorials. You’ll get to know the really important sections through the cases, so don’t waste time on trying to remember it all (especially since you’re allowed statute books in exams). For EU law (which also relies on legislation quite a bit), maybe have a closer look at the actual wording and the implication of it, but again you get a statute book so…(also EU is a finalist subject so I’m getting a bit ahead of myself)

·         Your finalists are your friends. I mean upper years in general, but the finalists are the ones with all the tips and tricks because you get so stressed you learn all the ways to cut corners :D Do not be afraid to ask your seniors for notes! This does depend somewhat on college (again), but in my college a dropbox is made each year by the graduating cohort of all their finals notes (so I’ve just done this), and second years add in their moderations notes as well. These are great because they let you skip cases (providing the notes include case summaries) and can even point out those little differences in judge’s reasoning that I was talking about earlier (like the three-way split in Re Baden’s 2). So don’t be afraid to ask for notes, or even for advice on what you can safely skip knowing your tutor.

·         They ease you into it. You’ll do criminal law, constitutional law, and an introduction to roman private law over your first two terms, doing a subject and a half per term. Of those three, criminal law is the only case-heavy subject. Constitutional law and roman are mainly textbook/article based. So you shouldn’t have a very intense workload until Trinity term at the earliest (outside of revision for mods in Hillary) at which point you should have found your ideal work pace. So try not to worry too much about it all happening too much at once.

Honestly, I think it’s kind of an Oxford thing that we somewhat exaggerate how much work we do. Personally, I would divide my reading list into chunks (usually about a third of a side of A4) and say – this is how much I’m going to get done each day. Most reading lists are 2/3 sides of A4 I would say? I could still have days where I wouldn’t get that chunk done and would still be okay and reach the deadline. So I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Also you could make arrangements with other fresher lawyers to take certain parts of the reading list, but I maybe wouldn’t do that until you know them and how they approach cases/reading/notes, etc.

I hope this wasn’t too ramble-y and did somewhat help. I’m totally happy to answer any questions you have about Oxford/law despite graduating because it helps me relieve my youth and avoid the real world :L Good luck for your first year!

[92jlo-blog]

My 2019 Journey

The purpose of this blog is to share my journey throughout 2019. It was one of the hardest years I have yet to experience. Not financially, nor physically, but mentally. In January, I entered the University of the Incarnate Word’s Master of Science in Organizational Development and Learning. Not many people understand what the degree entails. It is a psychology in science but for business. There are theories that explain why people behave a certain way in the workplace and it’s a study of people in general in the workplace. They also go into detail on how to manage and be aware of behaviors, as well as how to manage change.

Anyways, I thought I would mention that because I am often asked what my degree is in. As mentioned, in January I began the master’s program at UIW. I was excited to start the program, but I was also scared. I have been in school since I was in pre-k and I was mentally exhausted from school even though I took a semester off between my undergrad and grad school. I knew I could do it because I’m very disciplined. I was also working full-time, 45 hours a week. I was six months into my fulltime job. Mind you, this is my first full time job in three years. I had already been struggling with work-life balance before I entered grad school, taking on a fulltime job. Going into grad school, I told myself, “I got this”, “I can do it”, “it’s only a year”. No big deal, right? Wrong. A little before mid-year, I began to feel different. A version of ‘different’ I could not describe. At the time, I did not know what it was. I thought I was just in a funk and would come out of it. I didn’t. As time passed, I realized I was struggling because of work-school-girlfriend-daughter-cousin-friend-granddaughter balance. I divided my time as much as I could. I would wake up to go to work, then go to school or do homework every day after work, catch up with family and friends, and make time for my boyfriend. I felt okay with trying to divide my time equally, not realizing I was burnt out. I saw my boyfriend, cousins, friends enjoying life from traveling, going out, relaxing, living life without me, not intentionally. I had other obligations and goals that I could not enjoy those moments with them. It was eating me up inside because I believe time with loved ones is more important than any job or school. Others would tell me how proud they were of me and encourage me to keep going. In the back of my mind, I thought, all of you guys are living life and happy, while I work and give up time to focus on my studies. I understood my position and goals, but it was hard to watch everyone around me.

Mid-year approaches. I am still struggling but managing to hang on and get through life day by day. During this time my boyfriend and I started to question our future plans. I will not go into detail because it is not information, I am comfortable sharing. But I will tell you guys that our issues had to do with personal goals, and future plans that we have a difference in opinions on. After this bump in the road we overcame, reality set in. I thought, I’m still recovering the differences in opinions in my relationship, time will pass, and I will be fine! A month later, I found myself feeling unsure, but at this point I was stressed, overwhelmed and down. I was sure about my future, I was sure what direction I wanted my relationship to go in, I was on my way to getting my masters. What more could I need to fulfill my happiness?

Beginning of September, I realized I was in a depression. I would drive to work, unhappy, no music playing, thoughts running through my head. I would leave work, get in my car, and tears would pour down my face. Throughout the past months, I was spending more and more time away from my boyfriend, who I adored, and family and friends I loved. I felt alone. Nobody knew it, because I told nobody, I showed no sign of sadness, I kept it hidden. I saw this as a weakness and did not feel comfortable sharing this. I’ve known of many people around me to go through depression, but I thought, no way not me.

I felt disconnected from everyone and everything. I was physically present, but my mind was in a dark place. Insecurity sunk in. Insecurity has always been a struggle I have had because of past experiences. I have always kept my love life private, by choice and because my significant other felt the same way. I then thought I no longer want to have that much privacy; I want to embrace the love I have for my relationship. I thought this would help me be less insecure. I left it alone because I knew my mental health was a bigger issue, but it still bothered me enough to get upset and get sad about it when I thought about it often. I think my insecurity led me to wanting to remove the complete privacies of my relationship, because I wanted to feel as if someone were proud to be devoted to their relationship not that he didn’t on our own time. I needed that fulfillment at the time, but do not believe it would have changed my mental state, insecurity was just one factor contributing to mt depression.

Time had passed, I was still managing the dark place I was in, nobody was aware. I put on a smile and got through each day, one day at a time. Mid October had now approached and there was another bump in my relationship. Once again, I will not go into detail on the backstory, but minor information will be given to better understand that place I was in. My boyfriend and I took time apart to figure things out. During that time, I reflected back on this past year and my relationship. My boyfriend and I did not spend very much time together, he worked nights and I worked during the day and I had school and studying to do. I let him pretty much do what he needed to do to succeed in his career. I was often told that I my relationship was ‘different’ (not in a good way) and I was the “cool girlfriend” because he could life his life. I never thought much of it because I was doing the exact same thing, but my focus was on school. Which is a lot more socially acceptable than his career choice. I felt I gave my all in the relationship and did what I could to make him happy. We struggled during these couple of weeks. My depression hit harder than ever. I felt I wasn’t good enough to start a future with or to even be enough for someone to devote all their time too. Anyways, after reflecting I knew that my boyfriend loved me dearly, but I felt we were not as devoted to our relationship. Was it because we were accustomed to the lifestyle we made? Or was it because our personal goals were too important to one another? Our personal goals did not include each other. It became separate from our relationship. Was it because we were two different people on two different paths? There is not a for sure answer, but we managed to compromise and find a solution. We had identified what was lacking and knew we had to fix it.

Weeks passed by, and to be honest I felt a little relieved. Weight was lifted off my shoulder for a moment. I felt happiness slowly creeping back into my life. I was so hopeful. I was seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, so I thought. I slowly was entering back into my secret depression, as if it never left. I’m still facing the same work life balance; I just had gotten used to it and made it a mental routine. The second bump in the road with my relationship, damaged me mentally. It put me further into depression, although I didn’t know. My insecurity was its highest. I could not wrap my head around what the issue was. Did I have too much on my plate?

Here we are in December, school has ended, graduation is next week. I have definitely improved my mental state. November was the least stressful month I had, and it allowed me time to clear my head and collect my thoughts. I cannot say I am completely out of the depression state, it is still there, but I feel it starting to slowly pass. I’ve come to the conclusion that I need to take care of myself before others. I’ve spent most of my life-giving time and helping and worrying about others that I forgot about myself. I learned it is okay to be selfish sometimes. I’m constantly trying to make up for something that is missing. I have an idea of why I tend to do that, but still unsure if that is truly the reason. I truly believe I was depressed a few months before I finally realized it. At the time, I identified depression with not leaving the house, or not talking to anyone, or just being down most of the time. But it’s not. Everyone has their own way of dealing with it, and I was able to handle it enough by myself. I was fortunate enough, because some people are not able to manage it on their own. I thank god every day because this could have been worse and there are other people who have it harder than I did. I decided to share this because I was so embarrassed to think I was going through depression even if nobody knew. People (like me) who can put on a smile, get through work and school do not always have it together. People (like me) who have their life so organized and planned for the future are not all what they show to be. Life threw so many obstacles my way this year, and people who plan their every move tend to fall apart when something occurs that isn’t in their plan. Lastly, I would never want anyone around me to feel like I did, and my door is always open. Anyone who knows me knows I love to listen; I don’t talk much and sometimes people just need a shoulder to lean on. As for myself, I need to learn to focus on me, and not worry about things and people I cannot change. A whole new chapter is ahead after graduation, I will use December to work on ME. I am grateful for all my loved ones who have stood by me through this journey, and I would have not done it without every single one of yall!!!

[starbell622-blog]

First Day of School

It’s the first day of school.  DS is starting 2nd grade.  2 years of fighting with the school over a diagnosis and help for DS, and end of first grade, we found out he’s on the spectrum.  Where, we do not know yet, because of course life happens, Dad’s job changed and we got thrown into the 3rd health insurance, and wouldn’t you know that insurance will not cover Autism testing.  No words.

We are going by the school’s diagnosis.  2 years after they put DS on multiple different medicines because of his “ADHD” and “ODD.”  He hits, he curses, he “lacks empathy,” lacks eye contact, sometimes doesn’t make sense.  But he is smart as anything and can do school work a few grade levels above the grade he is in.  He can do math in his head, spell big words, understands them.  This is orally, of course.  When he sits down in a classroom, anxiety, including some separation anxiety from us, his parents.  I’m sure we will get into that more later about him, but for now that’s where we are.  

I just started a new job less than a week ago, last Tuesday.  DH and I trying to do what’s best for our son, help him and allow him to learn with every other child, like he deserves to.  This weekend he was more than excited to start school, could not wait to go.  This morning, he woke up, “Mom, is it time for school yet?” -”No, buddy,” I said, “it’s time for us to eat some breakfast and get ready.”  Smooth sailing.  DD made her brother Toaster Strudels for breakfast, normally they do not get along, but today, everything was great.  Bus stop with DD and he behaved, no hitting his sister (which is more than other siblings fight), but not today.  He did develop what we think is a sort of “tick” for him, he has started blowing on his hands very gently, we have asked why, and when he does answer, he is “cooling his hands.”  This is something that came up over the summer that is new for him.  Around 10:30 am, school was feverishly calling.  I could not answer as I just started a new job, they called my old work and I got a message from a coworker, then they called my husband (DH).  I messaged my husband to find out what was going on already (It’s only the FIRST DAY and he was fine this morning!).  School said that he was having a “rough day” and someone needed to come and get him “immediately.”  

I don’t know about you all, but we are not in the financial position, never have been, to just leave a job for the day.  Not only that, DD just started with his new position right before Christmas last year, and I haven’t even gotten a full work week in at my new job.  They know how he is, they know he is on the Spectrum, and this year have extra help, in forms of special education and therapy classes that he can take a few times a week, paid for by the state.  Ofcourse we both love DS, but we also need to be able to provide for him, and we cannot do when we are missing non paid days from work, also risking being let go due to lack of availability to perform and be at work.  How do we be great parents and help DS, but work fulltime to be able to do better for our family and get us in a better financial situation?

I am still new to this.  Still Googling articles on Autism and other children experiencing the issues that we are dealing with, especially now that we ahve a diagnosis.  Trying to somehow make more hours in the day to try to get him into a STEM school, but also touch base and speak with someone at the STEM school to let them know issues and about this awesome kid we have, that needs help and someone to work with us.  Still trying to take care of myself, so I am healthy and able to fully care for him.  That isn’t happening.

Today started off so well, he was happy, DD was having a good morning, and although we know not everyone is so thrilled to start school, it was progress from him being upset and having rough mornings any other time.  Not even 2 full hours in school and they already could not handle him.  Stress set in and worry for him, that he is safe in his surroundings and isn’t scared not being able to understand all of this and why it’s happening, and I got physically ill.  DH had to go get DS, where he was sitting in the nurses office, no one was there for DH to speak to, as he was told they weren’t fully staffed today.

Holding on trying not to pass out from holding in and trying not to show that my insides feel like they’re dying, I hold out until the end of the day.  DH was home with DS and I knew that he was safe, though the situation still had me ill.  Come home and DS apologizes, he is sorry for not having a good day and cries.  I gave him a giant hug while he was apologizing, and I quickly pointed out, “I’m sorry you had a bad day, buddy.  I love you.” DS feels it’s his own fault this is happening, and it’s not, it’s the fact that many disabilities people are still judgemental for and not able to fully understand or help.  I am unable to fully understand, but I am admitting it, and with DS, it is always patience, as hostility makes it worse.  He senses tones, harshness, he knows and remembers those who have made him feel uneasy in the past, and most of the time, they are the ones still making him feel uneasy in the present.  Yes, and sadly, this includes grandparents and most family members, as they don’t want to accept this reality, that he is just a “bad kid,” “doesn’t listen” and we are in so many words to blame for not raising him correctly.

I sit and search the internet for articles to add to read, to better educate myself, and be able to help him, and he is standing in front of my desk at home, watching T.V. and is very close.  He already wears very thick glasses, he’s a -8.00 prescription.  He gets a little uneasy, but he listens.  Now he takes his shirt, swinging it around his body, stretching it out and pulling it up around his arms.  “Buddy, please don’t do that to your shirt.”  Immediately starts the “hand cooling” and blowing gently on his fingers/hands.  My heart immediately breaks.  I was told today that i have to stay overnight a few days next week in a different city next week, and this is happening.  I was already ill, now I just stare at DS and wonder what is going on in his head and how I wish I could just help him.

I have decided to blog about it, as I can document everything, hopefully to help not only DS, but myself in the process.  And if someone stumbles across this blog, hopefully it can help them in some way as well.

[expensiveminimalist]

It Took One Night - William Nylander (Part 10)

A/N: Hey lovelies, here’s part 10! It crosses over into part 11 so please don’t think I just decided to cut it off there lol 

Word Count: 3k 

Warnings: Pregnancy, Swearing (seriously, you know me by now) 

Masterlist 

That night, after the ultrasound, you and William ate waffles in front of the TV and lost count of how many times you’d replayed your sonogram DVD. You were both convinced each time that you’d seen something different, another finger or its toes moving, and you ended up rewinding it several times just to prove that either of you weren’t imagining things.

Since the ultrasound you and William had been spending more and more time together, even though he’d was back training fulltime for the upcoming season. He was continuing to make you a priority and, honestly, it was only making these feelings you had for him stronger – the same damn feelings you were also trying to convince yourself weren’t real.

You were also finallyat the 12 week mark of your pregnancy, and were now happily letting yourself dream about life with your baby would be like, without your anxiety getting in the way. You were still worried, it was only natural since you’d already grown so attached to this tiny human and you wouldn’t stop worrying until you were holding them in your arms. Then, you’d be in your blissful baby bubble for a few hours until your anxiety set back in and you wouldn’t sleep for the next eighteen years.

But being twelve weeks pregnant also meant one other thing, something that you were still trying reassure yourself was going to go well – meeting William’s family. Your biggest concern was that they’d think you were using William, and that you expected him to carry the financial burden of raising a child. It also crossed your mind that you weren’t sure William knew how to introduce you. You weren’t his girlfriend but you also weren’t just a random that was carrying his baby. He’d made it obvious that you meant something to him, what you weren’t entirely sure, and the last thing you wanted was to make him feel awkward in front of his own family.

So, naturally, it was the only thing you’d been thinking about for the last week since William said that his family was having dinner on Saturday night, and you were the guest of honour. He didn’t exactly put it like that but you definitely felt you were going to be on a pedestal, so that his family could figure out whether you were someone that was going to be a problem in William’s life. You felt terrible that you were making them out to be a hoard of monsters in your mind but you were genuinely terrified that they’d hate you, and not just for yourself but for your baby. When William had spoken about his family he’d always talked about them so fondly and said how close they are which is something you’d hope that your child would get to experience, unlike the train wreck that was your own family. You just hoped that you wouldn’t be the reason that your baby could potentially miss out.

---

You’d had to work on Saturday which served as a great distraction from thinking about tonight’s dinner. The only problem was, by the time you got home, you were ready to have a shower and get into bed, not have a shower and go and meet the father of your child’s entire family.  

You spent about twenty minutes going through every item of clothing in your closet and drawers to try and find something suitable before flopping on your bed in defeat, still wrapped in your towel from your shower.

“So is there any reason that I keep hearing very loud groaning coming from your room?” Lyla asked, walking into your room and smirking as she saw you laying in your towel.

“I know what you’re thinking and no I wasn’t doing that, I’m just trying to find something to wear”

“Shit, got a hot date have you?”

“If you call meeting someone’s family a ‘hot date’, then totally”

“How long have you had a boyfriend and why haven’t I met him yet?” Lyla said, jokingly putting her hand over her mouth as she faked a gasp of surprise.

You ran your hands through your hair, trying to figure out how you were going to explain your situation to Lyla, “He’s uh, he’s not exactly my boyfriend per say. But, you have met him. You’ve met him like a lot”.

Lyla’s face quickly changed from confused to shock as she yelled “holy shit, you and Willy!?”

You felt your face going red as you grabbed your pillow and shoved your face into it, hoping that Lyla would decide not to ask any more questions.

“Wait, you said he wasn’t your boyfriend. If he’s not your boyfriend, why are you meeting his family?” she continued.

You sat up and put the pillow back in place, taking a deep breath as you did so.

“I’m pregnant” you said, watching Lyla’s face closely.

“What!? You mean you and Willy are having a baby?”

“That’s sort of what me saying I’m pregnant means” you said sarcastically.

“Congratulations! And I mean congratulations to you only because I’m going to kick Willy’s ass for not telling me sooner! It’s not like I’m his best friend or anything right!?” she said, breaking into a smile that made you feel so much more relaxed.

“I only just reached twelve weeks so he only told his fam-”

“Twelve weeks! I cannot believe that little shit lied to me for twelve weeks. How rude”

“Lyla he didn’t mean anything by it. It’s my fault for being so paranoid and not wanting to tell anybody that didn’t have to know”

Lyla sat down beside you and put her arms around you, “calm down, I’m kidding. I’m really happy for you, for both of you. I’m assuming I wasn’t planned but he has had a skip in his step lately, so I’m guessing I’m allowed to be happy for you guys?”

“It’s scary but yeah it’s a happy thing” you said, smiling at Lyla as you hugged her back.

“Oh and don’t worry about his family, seriously they are the loveliest people. Alex can be fucking annoying, just like William, but other than that you’re good. And I knowonce they get to know you, they’re gonna love you and realise how perfect you are for that big idiot”

“Thank you, but I said he isn’t my boyfriend”

Lyla rolled her eyes, “yeah just because you said it, doesn’t mean I believe it”.

“Shut up” you said, playfully whacking her with your pillow.

“Hey, you’re the one that needs to work on her acting!” she said, trying to dodge the pillow, “oh and just wear jeans and a nice top - it’s not dinner with the royal family”

In your mind, it might as well have been.

---

Eventually you decided on a pair of high-waisted jeans and a plain white t-shirt, looking at your body in the mirror and wondering when you’d see your first sign of a bump – and when you’d have to buy new jeans. You didn’t, however, manage to dodge Lyla’s kissy faces as you walked out the door and into William’s car.

You were grateful that he’d offered to pick you up, even though you were starting to feel like he was becoming your chauffeur. He didn’t seem to mind though so you felt less guilty about it.

“Remind me again, what are your parents name? I’m blanking and I don’t want to look like a total moron” you said as William drove away from your apartment.

He chuckled, “Michael and Camilla, andyou’re not a moron”

“And you have four sisters and one brother right?” you continued, not wanting to get anything wrong.

“Yes, except Michelle can’t make it so she said that we’ll catch up another time, as long as that’s alright with you of course. But Alex, Jacquline, Stephanie and Daniella will all be there and I promise they’re gonna love you. Well the girls will, Alex will probably just saying something stupid that’ll make you think he doesn’t like you but he doesn’t mean it”

You set about trying to remember everyone’s names and their ages, which William had told you previously, determined to make somewhat of a good first impression.

“Any chance they’ll be wearing name tags?”

William laughed, “I don’t think so. But I do know that my little sisters won’t shut up about you” he said, taking one hand off the wheel and entwining his fingers with yours.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure they think you’re like a princess or something because mum’s been going a bit overboard trying to make everything look perfect, and making sure the foods first class”

“She doesn’t have to do that, I’m nothing special”

“You are special”

You were glad it was dark, otherwise William couldn’t have missed your blushing face.

“Seriously, they’re going to love you. I’m pretty sure mum already does because you’re carrying her grandchild so you beat everyone” he teased.

“Thank you”

“For what?”

“For keeping me from losing my marbles” you said, both of you laughing as he pulled up the driveway.

“Anytime babe”

You lent over and kissed him on the cheek before he stepped out of the car, then smirked as you felt his fingers on your jawline. He turned your face towards his and pressed his lips against yours, gently, before slowly pulling away.

“Ready?”

“Ready”

---

There was a split second as William opened the front door that you considered bolting back to the car and hiding in there for the foreseeable future.

But the minute William took hold of your hand, you felt calmer, knowing that you weren’t alone in this. Regardless of what happened, you had him and that meant the world to you.

“Hello, you’re favourite child has arrived!” William shouted as the two of you walked through the door.

“Willy!” you heard a younger girl yell in reply, before she came sprinting towards him and lept into his arms.

“Hey squirt” he said, hugging her enthusiastically in return.

“Don’t call me squirt, I’m not a little kid”

“Um yeah you are, and don’t be rude – say hi to Y/N”

“Hi Y/N! I’m Daniella” she said, leaving William’s arms and enveloping you into a hug that you hadn’t expected but appreciated none the less.

“Squirt, don’t hug her too hard otherwise the baby will pop out” William teased.

“Babies don’t just pop out Willy, I’m not stupid. And stop calling me squirt”

“My big sister calls me squirt too” you said, smiling at Daniella as she finally let go of you.

“Really! Well, Willy I guess you can call me squirt then” she said, stepping aside as the rest of William’s family came into the living room.

“Told you, she thinks you’re a god” William whispered to you before he went to give his mum and dad a hug.

“Wow Willy, way to introduce us all” his brother chirped as he walked over to give you a hug hello.

“I’m Alex, the better looking brother”

You laughed as you saw William roll his eyes, “he also has terrible eyesight, so that way when he looks in the mirror he doesn’t cry” William shot back.

“Why do you like my brother?” Alex asked, jokingly.

“Stop hogging her!” a girl who was older than Daniella but looked younger than Alex said, following suit of her siblings and wrapping her arms around you. “I’m Jacquline” she said, swatting a hand at Alex to make him go away.

“And I’m Stephanie!” a girl, slightly younger than Jacquline, said as she pushed her sister away and hugged you herself.

“Ok, ok stop crowding her jeez. She’s not a zoo animal” William teased.

“I’m sorry but it’s not very often you let us meet one of your girlfriends so forgive us for wanting to savour the moment” Jacquline shot back.

William poked his tongue at his sister before he motioned for them to move so that you could meet his parents – the actual reason you’d come to dinner.

“Mum, Dad, this is Y/N. She thinks you bite, so be nice”

“William!” you hissed.

“My son thinks he’s so funny” Camilla teased, glaring at William, as she pulled you in for a cuddle.

If you were being honest, you were most afraid of meeting Camilla for the soul purpose that she’s William’s mum. But from the moment she wrapped her arms around you, you felt relaxed and wanted. It was the kind of hug you’d always expected you’d feel from your own mother, except you never did. So you weren’t surprised when you felt yourself almost melting into her, not wanting her to let go of you.

“How have you been feeling? William said your morning sickness had been pretty brutal, I know that feeling” she said, rubbing your back as you wished in your head that Camilla was your mum.

“Yeah it hasn’t been a lot of fun but it’s slowly getting better now. I mean, the chef at work doesn’t think I hate her cooking anymore” you joked, relieved when both Camilla and Michael laughed.

“Glad to hear you’re feeling better. If you weren’t I was going to give you full permission to take it out on long-locks here” Michael teased as he shook your hand.

“Least I have more than a handful of hair on my head dad”

“Yeah, get back to me on that in 10-15 years”

William half pouted, half laughed as he took hold of your hand again and led you over to the couch, shoving Alex over in the process.

“We have a guest” William said as Alex scowled at him.

You sat down next to William, snuggling into his side as he wrapped his arm around you and kissed you on the head.

“You alright?” he whispered.

“Yeah” you whispered back, smiling up at him.

You looked around the living room and noticed that Camilla was the only one missing, and you knew exactly where to find her when you had the clutter of dishes and utensils

“I’m gonna go see if your mum needs any help in the kitchen” you said to William, who reluctantly let you slip away from him.

“Need an extra hand?” you said as you walked into the kitchen, losing all control of your senses as you smelt the food that Camilla had been busy preparing. Food hadn’t been your best friend lately but fuck that smelt delicious.

“Oh no, no you just relax please. You’re our guest” she said, smiling at you.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! But you’re welcome to stay and chat if you want too, I might even let you lick the spoon” she said, noticing your eyes locked on the culinary delight in the frying pan.

“It smells delicious” you said, looking around the kitchen at the feast Camilla had prepared. Then, your eyes noticed a familiar picture on the refrigerator.

“That’s from my ultrasound” you said, smiling as Camilla stopped what she was doing and looked at the sonogram picture as well.

“I may or may not be a proud soon-to-be-grandma if you hadn’t already guessed” she said, taking the picture off the fridge and bringing it over so you could both look at it closer.

“I still can’t believe that he or she is inside of me right now”

“Pretty surreal right? Just wait until you get to hold them in your arms for the first time. Sweetheart you’re going to absolutely melt, there’s no better feeling in the world” Camilla said, wrapping her arm around you once again.

“I wish I could fast-forward to that moment, six months is too long to wait!” you moaned.

“Oh I completely agree but it’s so worth it in the end” she said, squeezing your shoulder.

“William didn’t go into all the details but he did say that you’re not very close with your mum” Camilla said, turning you so you were facing her, “so, I just wanted to let you know that if you ever need to talk about anything, and I mean anything, you can call me whenever you need too ok? I’m here for you too”

You felt your eyes welling up because you couldn’t believe how loving she was being towards you, someone that she’d only just met. This time, you pulled her in for a hug and stayed there for a few minutes as she rubbed her hand up and down your back again, reassuring you that she was in your corner.

“Thank you” you spoke into her shoulder, trying not to get your tears all over her top.

“You’re welcome sweetheart” she said, resting her chin on top of your head.

“Everything ok in here?” William said as he cautiously entered the room, not wanting to interrupt the moment.

“Just a grandma, mummy, baby moment” Camilla said, letting go of you as William handed you a tissue.

She put the sonogram picture carefully back up on the fridge as William came up behind you, wrapped his arms around your waist and let his hands rest on your stomach. You didn’t have a bump yet but William had already made it clear that when you did, he was going to appreciate it.

“So can I steal my girlfriend back or are you two not done yet?” William said, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I guess I can let you have her back for a little bit, but I want her back after dinner” Camilla teased, not noticing the semi-shocked expression on your face.

Girlfriend. He just called you his girlfriend. He just called you his girlfriend in front of his mum.

You might as well go home now because the odds of you remembering anything else after that– were next to none.

[daggerzine]

The Vulgar Boatmen interview- Dale Lawrence talks shop.

I had been thinking about sending some questions Dale Lawrence’s way ever since I’d heard the 2015 reissue of the band’s 1989 debut, You and Your Sister (reissued on Time Change Records out of Indianapolis). The band had formed in the late 80’s by two friends (well, sort of....see below) , Lawrence (who was based in Indiana ) and Robert Ray (who was based in Florida).  Back then they did it the old fashioned way, by mailing cassettes back and forth (the only way) and that seemed to work just fine. It had been years since I’d heard that debut and the reissue reminded me of how great (and underappreciated) the band was. You’ll hear elements of The Feelies (those jangly guitars and even in the rhythms, too) but also other classic bands like the Velvet Underground and even the Everly Brothers on certain cuts. Their sophomore effort, 1992’s Please Panic was just as good (maybe better) and I never heard 1995’s Opposite Sex (I hope to change that very soon…both recently reissued, see below) and then the band broke up.  If you’ve never heard the band’s music and have read this far then by all means do check them out, you won’t be sorry as their songs are truly excellent. Pop music with hooks and plenty of smarts. A month or so ago I sent some questions to Dale and he was more than happy to elaborate on my queries. Read on and when you have some time play “Drive Somewhere” at top volume today!

Robert and Dale, the early years. 

Where were you born/where did you grow up?         

I was born in Valparaiso, Indiana, and grew up one county over, on a farm outside a town called Hanna, an hour or so from Chicago.

 Was your family musical or at least supportive of your musical pursuits?    

Neither of my parents were especially musically inclined but I did grow up surrounded (and fascinated) by records. And my parents at least never tried to discourage my musical ambitions.

 What was your first band you ever saw live?    

I  was very lucky -- Neil Young, the 1973 Stray Gators tour (which resulted in Time Fades Away).

 What was your initial entry into the world of independent/punk/other music? (I know you were in The Gizmos…..that might need to be a whole other interview!!).      

My rock ‘n’ roll life began when I was nine years old and suddenly noticed Top 40 radio on the bus ride home from school: WLS, out of Chicago, 1965, a very good year for radio. (Again, lucky.) By 1976/77, I was in college and listening to the usual suspects, Modern Lovers, Television, Ramones. But hearing the Sex Pistols in the fall of ’77 was really the big corner. It hit me like nothing else before or since, made the world seem like a wholly different place. The sound of those records, the sound of Johnny Rotten’s voice, sounded exactly how frustrating it felt to be alive just then. And it made me want to be in a band, an old ambition I’d largely abandoned as a pipedream. Within weeks, I'd answer an ad and join the Ted Neimeic Gizmos on rhythm guitar.

 Ready to rock.

What were the beginnings of the Vulgar Boatmen?

The Boatmen actually began in Gainesville, Florida, a couple years before either Robert or I were involved. At that time it was a very different band, different aesthetic, different set of musicians (oddly enough, a situation pretty similar to the two different versions of Gizmos). Robert was friends with some of the band members and eventually joined, initially as rhythm guitarist. When the main songwriter, Walter Salas-Humara, left to form the Silos in New York, the Boatmen needed new material and started doing some of the songs I’d written in the Gizmos. Robert changed some lyrics, added a bridge or two – these were our first “collaborations.” I was in Indianapolis at that time, leading a band called Right to Left. It was then that Robert and I started collaborating in earnest, sending song ideas back and forth thru the mail.

 Where did the band name come from?                                                                            

The name was already in place when Robert and I got involved. It’s basically a third-graders pun on “The Volga Boatman,” a beginners piano piece. To the extent it doesn’t sound like we’re taking ourselves too seriously, I always liked the name. But we probably would have been smart to try to come up with something more fitting.

 Were you and Robert always based in separate states or was there ever a time that you lived near each other?                                                                                                                        

There were a couple years when we both lived in Bloomington, while he was a grad student and I was an undergrad at Indiana University. We met, weirdly enough, in a class on song lyrics. Robert was the AI and when he mentioned in class that he’d seen Elvis perform in Memphis, pre-RCA, I immediately scheduled office hours with him and we’ve been great friends ever since. Neither of us were in bands at that time, though I'd be in the Gizmos within a few months. We didn’t start writing together until years later.

 What do you remember most about working on the songs that would become You and Your Sister?                                                                                                                           

In terms of writing the songs, I remember consciously trying to use as few chords as possible (a lot fewer than I'd typically employed in Gizmos songs) -- and in particular, concentrating on the I and IV chords, a movement I could hear at the heart of so much music I loved, from the Soul Stirrers to "Road Runner." Also, I remember that having a fulltime songwriting partner was a distinct luxury: two sets of ears to hear rhythmic settings, better odds of finding the right lyrics.

 Recording-wise, the album was done at Robert’s house, on an 8-track machine, so I remember hanging out there in Gainesville for weeks at a time. The relaxed schedule that arrangement afforded us might in hindsight be the most important element in the recording process. We could afford not to rush anything. If a vocal or a tempo or a guitar sound wasn’t quite there, we knew we had plenty of time to get it right. I especially remember obsessing over snare-drum sounds. One we were especially happy with was on “Mary Jane” – except that when we tried recording a lead vocal, we discovered that most of what we liked about the snare sound was actually on the scratch vocal track. So that scratch vocal ended up being the actual vocal.

 The classic album!

Did you tour much for the record? Ever make it overseas?                             

We did tour quite a bit for that album, several swings through the south and the east coast, once to the west coast. We did not make it overseas until the second and third albums, when we played Germany, Austria, and England.

 At the time of You and Your Sister were you working regular jobs?               

I was working for a local record store, traveling on weekends to collectors conventions, hawking bootleg videos – already a bit like touring. Robert had a full-fledged career, teaching at the University of Florida.

 Was it basically the same lineup for 1992’s Please Panic?                          

Well, yes and no. Both albums were recorded by a combination of musicians from both the Gainesville and Indianapolis lineups. (So, for example, there are four different drummers on Sister.) The Indiana musicians used on the second album are mostly different than the ones who had contributed on the first, the Florida musicians were pretty much the same. One difference on the second album is that we had access to studio pro J.D. Foster, who is the main bass player on Please Panic.

 The other classic album!

How did the band end…..or did it not?                                                                                    The end for us came, as for many indie bands, when we signed with a major, Warners/EastWest, out of London. We finally had a bit of a budget to make a record and, at first, major promotional assistance. But a shakeup at Elektra resulted in Opposite Sex never seeing a US release, which was pretty much the end of the road. Our pending booking deal with Monterey Peninsula fell through and we were dropped almost immediately by the UK label as well. The band has never officially broken up, but it has become very much a part-time thing. The Indianapolis outfit plays out a handful of times every year.

 I noticed that you still play live these days. Is it under your own name or the Vulgar Boatmen?

The Vulgar Boatmen.

 What are your top 10 desert island discs?                                                         Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, Louis Armstrong.

Never Mind the Bollocks Here’s the Sex Pistols.

The Complete Buddy Holly.

A Hard Day’s Night (or any of their first five albums), the Beatles.

Stranded (or Siren or Country Life), Roxy Music.

Ella Fitzgerald Sings the Rodgers and Hart Songbook.

The Sun Sessions, Elvis Presley.

Call Me, Al Green.

Astral Weeks, Van Morrison.

Bo Diddley (or The Duke at Fargo or The Definitive Otis Redding or...).

 Some of your current favorite bands/musicians?                                                                

I listen to way more older music than current stuff, always finding records I hadn't known about before. Right now, I’m listening a lot to Jimmy Reed. Thelonious Monk has been a constant on my stereo in recent years. Two current bands I love are Terakaft and Sufjan Stevens.

 A recent pic of the band. 

Final words? Closing comments? Anything you want to add that I didn’t ask?

I guess I can plug some rereleases that are about to happen. The first three Boatmen albums are being reissued on vinyl, by Play Loud! Records, out of Berlin. As with the Sister CD, Please Panic has been completely remastered. It will be the first time that Opposite Sex has ever been out on vinyl.

 Thanks so much for doing this!

 Relevant links below!

www.facebook.com/airportdecisionsinc/

 www.timechangerecords.com

 www.playloud.org

 Their 1995 album. 

  Such a classic!

[fourtrisheafanfic]

Money Well Spent (complete fic)

Rating: Mature

Summary: Money Well Spent is a modern-AU, jonerys one-shot written for the 2018 Jonerys Valentine’s Week. I selected the Prompt Dark!Jon or Dark!Dany for day one (2/14/18). While meeting the prompt for day, I think it’s pretty obvious that both Jon and Dany are portrayed OOC. :)   This short story is about a man who is obsessed with power and his career. He has found that part of getting ahead relies on maintaining a certain image. Rather than deal with the hassles of dating, he makes sure the high end escort agency sends him the right type of woman he needs to have on his arm. He feels it is money well spent, getting exactly as he demands. Will this new one be more than he bargained for?

**I have no rights to these characters, all belong to HBO and Author, George R.R. Martin**

Chapter Summary: 2018 Jonerys Valentine’s Week on Tumblr. 2.14.2018 Prompt: Dark!Jon or Dark!Dany.

Read it on Ao3: (X)

~ Night of the Westeros Industries Gala ~

Sitting in the back seat of the town car her agency set up for her, Dany adjusts the top of her strapless black gown. She knew the moment the stylist in Wardrobe had suggested this dress to wear that this evening’s event was going to be highbrow and fancy. The gown material clinging to her body in all the right places, the plunging neckline showing off Dany’s full bosom.

Biting the inside of her cheek anxiously, Dany reviews the fact sheet the agency sent over earlier that day. She has a very specific role to play this evening, as the date of Mr. Jon Snow.

Currently in her second year of law school at the University of Chicago, Dany recently started working for a high end Escort Service in the city. Thanks to her pretty looks, and well educated demeanor, she was only given high end assignments for the agency. The money is incredible, it’s not something Dany could overlook when this opportunity presented itself.

Having been recruited by a few agencies, Daenerys Targaryen was very careful when selecting which company she would sign up for, making it very clear she would never get paid for sex. Dany is the furthest thing from being a prude, but she draws the line at being paid for sex or any type of sexual favors. Sadly between being in law school fulltime and then this job, Dany has had zero time for dating. She misses sex a lot. Masturbating just doesn’t cut it, but at least she can get some relief on her own.

Diving back into the fact sheet for tonight’s event Dany chortles with a roll of her eyes. She was supposed to have a quiet dinner with one of her regulars this evening, but then forced to cancel on him as she was needed for this assignment. Tonight’s client sounds like quite the pain in the ass. His detailed list of demands on the fact sheet, leads Dany to believe he sounds like an old, pretentious, fart.

Fact sheet (excerpt):

Female must be no taller than 5’3 in height (Dany is 5’2)

Blond strongly requested

Good teeth/ smile

Heels no taller than 3 inches in height

Articulate

Black ball gown

Her understanding is that Mr. Snow is a Tier One client at her agency, meaning he has a ton of money and pays for the absolute best. Supporting that is the fact they cancelled Dany’s previously arranged evening with the sweet old widower who sees her once a week for dinner and a movie.

As her car pulls up to the event Dany opens the Escort company’s management app on her phone and checks in. The app tracks the locations and time of the employees, for safety and billing purposes. Dany steps out of the town car in front of the McCormick Place Convention Center, Westeros Industries is hosting a huge awards gala and charity event this evening. Dany remembers Jon Snow’s resume while entering the front lobby of the center.

Mr. Snow is the senior vice president of acquisitions and mergers, he has roughly two thousand employees reporting under him. He sounds very accomplished and career driven, which Daenerys can appreciate. She can only imagine just how old and hideous Mr. Jon Snow is. Why else would he need to spend money for a woman’s company?

Speaking of old and hideous, scanning the room Dany’s spots the polar opposite in the form of a gorgeous young man that is extremely handsome. Her eyes lock with the handsome man that is standing by the bar and speaking with a small group of men.

The upper half of his gorgeous ebony black hair is tied neatly into a man bun at the back of his head, he has the sexiest short trimmed beard surrounding his luscious lips. The intense look he gives her makes her pulse race, her body reacts instantly to him. He is the sexiest man she has ever seen. Dany’s mind conjuring images of what he could do with that mouth.

Quickly Dany remembers where she is and why, immediately looking away and breaking their shared eye contact. She can’t be caught checking out some young hot guy at this event. She is here for a job. Knowing her luck, the handsome young man will be introduced to her later as a coworker of the old man that is to be her ‘beloved date’ for the evening. That would be disastrous and extremely unprofessional.

Walking further into the lobby she stops by the coat check room to hand over her things. Per the directions she is to stand at the bar and order herself a gin and tonic and then wait until Mr. Snow finds her.

Per instructions she heads towards the bar, she notices the young man’s eyes still intently on her. His peers are speaking around him, but his attention is fully on her. She needs to nip this in the bud, she can’t allow silly complications this evening. Dany forces herself to look at him coldly, as if she sees right through him and then goes to the separate bar area. Ordering a gin and tonic, per orders so her evening’s date can find her.

“Hello, Daenerys,” a deep voice murmurs behind her. Dany turns around, shocked to see the handsome man from earlier. For a moment she worries that he is just some guy who likes a challenge and is stepping up his game after her earlier dismissive look. But the fact he knows her name makes her consider that he could be her date for the evening. Could this young man be Mr. Snow?

Looking her up and down, even glancing at her heels, Mr. Snow leans closer to whisper in her ear. “Isn’t this a pleasant surprise, your agency finally sent someone that meets my requirements.”

Dany is put off by his coldness while also remembering this is a job for her, and something this man is paying a great deal of money for.

“Hello, Mr. Snow,” Dany quietly says, before taking a small sip of her drink to calm her nerves. She has been on dates with a dozen different men, no one having this kind of effect on her. Why the hell is she nervous? She knows what she needs to do this evening. Be the pretty girl on his arm, and that is it.

“Call me Jon, It’s nice to meet you,” Jon speaks softly so that he is not overheard. “And you ready to get the show started?”

Gazing into his eyes, Dany smiles beautifully and nods.

Jon Snow is a successful business man that has no personal life to speak of, and he likes it that way. His job is extremely demanding and something that he welcomes. Jon Snow has been closed off from his family for many years since his father passed away. A terrible relationship with his stepmother and distance had made it easy to lose that close relationship. Jon will exchange the occasional email with his brother Robb who now lives in Jordan after falling in love and starting a new life there with his new wife.

Jon’s greatest joy is paying for the education of his two younger sisters that are college students out of state. Aside from helping them, he knows it drives his stepmother insane that his great success allows him to help where she fell short. It’s a double win.

Appreciating everything about her, her smile, her incredible breasts, even her platinum blond hair, Jon can’t believe how stunning this gorgeous woman is. He noticed her the moment she entered the lobby, immediately hoping she was the date he had paid for.

Jon is not some creep that pays for sex. Although having previously worked with other escort service companies, whose dates had aggressively offered him sex, he always kept it professional and declined. He has a very important image to protect at work and even for his personal life, nor is he one to mix business with pleasure. It’s one of the reasons he is so pleased with the current escort company he uses, there is a strict no sex policy in place for each of its employees.

The moment he saw Daenerys he prayed she was his date for the evening, he can’t wait to play the role with her. He wants to know what she smells like, what she feels like on his arm. Jon is ready to get started. For the first time he truly believes a date with this woman will be money well spent.

Leaning over slowly Jon gives Dany a gentle kiss on the cheek before whispering in her ear. “Because of my position there will always be someone watching and judging us at tonight’s event.”

Feeling her heart race at the contact, Dany needs to remind herself that Jon is acting. Posing as a romantic couple is part of the deal. Dany leans closer to him, running her fingertips along his jaw and smiling.

Jon’s eyes darken as he studies the beautiful woman that is touching his face and watching him. Shit, it is crazy how drawn to her he is. He is tempted to grab her by the hand and sweep her off to have a private romantic dinner so he can really get to know her.

But what would I learn? This is work for her, she could have a serious boyfriend for all I know. Ugh!

Jon ushers her through the lobby to greet some of his peers. Dany smiles politely, as she is introduced as his date, Daenerys. Their story is that they met through mutual friends and had just recently started dating. Jon’s arm always around her possessively with his hand on her lower back, but never too low. Dany finds herself shamelessly fantasizing what it would feel like to have his hands gripping her ass.

As cocktail hour continues the couple work the room. Jon notices that a few of his coworkers are gawking at Daenerys’s loveliness. It doesn’t hurt that her amazing cleavage is on display thanks to the cut of her black dress. The contrast of the black gown and her creamy skin shows off what amazing tits she has. Jon has to actively control himself from looking or even thinking about them. He doesn’t want to get a huge boner while in the middle of a work function. He has never been turned on by one of his escort dates before.

Right before the silent action portion of the evening starts Dany smiles at Jon and tells him she needs to use the ladies room. Jon nods and offers to walk her over. Turning down his offer so he can continue his conversation Dany leans up and kisses his cheek before walking away. She can feel his eyes on her as she retreats.

Once in the restroom stall Dany takes a moment to calm her nerves. She purposely walked to a restroom further away so that she could take a moment to be by herself. Posing as Jon Snow’s date this evening has left her confused, his sarcastic wit and snarky tone has given her butterflies more than once. She was tempted to kiss him on the mouth before escaping to the bathroom. She’s now intrigued as to why such a young, handsome, successful man needs to use an escort service. Not being completely blind, Dany recognized the cold glares of quite a few women at being introduced as Jon’s date. He is obviously highly desired by numerous ladies.

Before Dany can ponder it any further she hears peels of loud laughter erupt as a small group of women enter the restroom. She is about to leave her stall when the foul language and complains about this evening’s event stops her short. The stalls in the restroom are little rooms with a true door, the group probably thinks they are in here alone and thus acting so unprofessionally.

Part of her role at these events is avoiding conflict whenever possible. Dany cringes remembering the time she literally bumped into two women talking about giving their boss a blow job at the same time under his desk, and then later that evening realizing they were talking about the man that was her date. It was horribly uncomfortable for all.

Dany makes the quick decision to stay put and hopes they will leave soon. As the women continue to chatter Dany determines there are three women in the restroom with her.

Conversation:

Woman 1: Joffrey is such a little prick! He knew this event was on the calendar when he told his assistant to schedule us for the red eye flight tonight. What an asshole. I don’t even know if I should have left my things in the coat check room, it may be closed when we need to head out.

Woman 2: Relax, Val. I already tipped the coat check idiots, they will keep our things right by the door so we can just grab it and leave. Our car to the airport will be here at 9:30PM, so the coat check room will be unmanned at that time.

Woman 1: Good thinking. Ugh, 9:30! The awards presentation won’t be even be done by then! I really wanted to see it.

Woman 3: Oh just shut the fuck up, what do you care? It’s not like you’ve been nominated for anything.

Woman 2: Don’t be so nasty, Ygritte. I know you are pissed because Jon Snow is here with a hot date!

Woman 3: Fuck him. He obviously has no taste! Stupid asshole, I have offered to fuck him so many times just for him to say no. I even heard a little rumor that he is into kinky shit, and I offered him that too. Prick still turned me down.

Woman 1: Well, his date is really…something.

Woman 3: His date looks like a bleached-head prostitute, with her huge tits on display.

Woman 2: She does look trashy, maybe that is just his type. Although then I think he would have given you a chance, Ygritte. (The group laughs, even Dany smirks from her stall)

Woman 1: I wouldn’t worry about it, Jon looks miserable with that tramp as his date.

Woman 3: I’m not worried. Jon Snow can do so much better that that trashy skank on his arm tonight. I doubt we will ever see her after tonight.

Dany is now thoroughly pissed off. Normally she would laugh off such catty behavior, but the comments about how Jon looks miserable (WTF – does he?) and how she isn’t good enough for him have struck a nerve. She is offended, even though she isn’t quite sure why she cares so much.

Flushing the toilet, signaling to the three women that they are not alone, Dany hears a gasp. Walking towards the sinks with her head held high Dany begins washing her hands. Two of the three woman immediately step away and look mortified. The third woman, a fiery redhead stands her ground and glares at Daenerys while also standing at the sinks.

After drying her hands with a towel Dany purposely looks down to fix the top of her dress. Feeling all eyes on her, she makes sure her beautiful cleavage is still correctly displayed as designed by the dress. Dany notes that the redhead, who she recognizes as being called Ygritte has no tits and her body looks like that of a twelve year old girl. How sad for her, Dany looks directly at her chest area and smirks before walking out. Leaving Ygritte looking furious and her friends gawking at her nerve.

Dany is furious as she charges back the area where she last left Jon, knowing she needs to calm herself down. It would be completely unprofessional for her to act upset with him. Plus, it’s not his fault that women can be so mean.

Jon is getting more and more irritated by the minute. His date has been gone for a really long time, and he doesn’t like to wait for anything or anyone. Finally seeing her, he pushes aside the urge to just admire her gorgeousness. “That took much longer than expected,” he snaps at her, letting his displeasure be known.

Daenerys smiles sweetly at him and slips her arm around him before pulling closer to him. She completely ignores his grumpy mood and treats him as though he had just paid her a compliment. They finally lock eyes, both knowing what she is doing. He has to admit, he likes her sass, and he is very drawn to her.

Jon finally smiles at her before rolling his eyes at her playful demeanor and she bursts into a genuine smile that lights up her entire face.

“Come on, dearest. We must work the room for the silent auction portion,” Jon talks near her ear, making it look as though he is whispering sweet nothings into his would-be lover’s ear. Dany smiles eagerly and looks forward to spending more time with him.

They enjoy their time talking when they are able to be alone, which isn’t often as it is obvious that Jon is often the center of attention at this event. There are a couple of times that Jon is pulled away for a brief work discussion, some of the older gentlemen making it a point to tell Daenerys what a stunning beauty she is and how much they love her dress. Complimenting her dress while staring at the top part. Dany smiles politely, while also making it clear that she isn’t interested.

Jon always returns to her side, immediately pulling her close to him. He has never been so touchy-feely with a date. Everything with her feels different.

“I’m going to have to beat some of my coworkers off with a stick. Am I correct in noticing that it is the really old ones that are being the most forward,” Jon teases Daenerys as she laughs.

“You would be correct, I am pretty sure old men think they can play the age-card and get away with saying just about anything!” Dany giggles before Jon reaches down to brush his lips against her bare shoulder, both of their hearts racing at the contact.

“I better watch my back then, some of these old men may steal you away from me!” Jon jokes, enjoying their banter.

Playful, Dany laughs and assures Jon he has nothing to worry about. “I won’t be taking any of the offers from these old folks. I need a man who can keep up with me in the bedroom!”

Jon’s eyes immediately get dark with lust as he watches her closely. Dany blushes slightly, realizing what she said. But then shrugs it off since it is true, so why apologize?

Jon pulls Dany even closer to his side, he is going crazy with appreciation and desire. As his hand glides lower down her back a sudden booming voice stops him in his tracks.

“Dany Targaryen! Wow, you look gorgeous this evening. That dress, holy shit. What are you doing wasting your time with this loser?” Ramsey, a lawyer from one of the firms they use as outside counsel, jokes as he moves to stand in front of the couple. Jon feels Daenerys jump in his arms, probably caught off guard at hearing her last name rattled off.

Jon’s hold on Daenerys tightens slightly, he can’t stand Ramsey Bolton. He is obnoxious and a pain to work with. “How do you two know each other?” Jon asks coolly.

“The lovely Dany was a summer intern at my firm last summer. How is school going, Chicago Law correct?” Ramsey questions while his eyes blatantly roam up and down Dany’s body. Dany fights the urge to squirm, especially as she is in Jon’s arms and she doesn’t want him to know she is being affected.

“Yes, school is going well,” Dany says calmly. Feeling Jon’s eyes burning into her. She wonders if he is just annoyed at the intrusion or actually jealous.

Ramsey and Jon have a tense exchange about a work issue, it is obvious they don’t particularly get along. Jon hates that his company always invites members from outside counsel to this event. Especially when it is someone he doesn’t like. The men begin to get heated in their discussion, Dany noticing that they are drawing the attention of others around them as their voices begin to rise.

“Jon, my darling. I’m parched, let’s get a drink at the bar before the banquet starts,” Dany says pleasantly, placing her hand on Jon’s arm to break his attention away from Ramsey.

Jon is thankful Dany broke the moment, he was about to throttle Ramsey in the middle of this charity event, and that would have been a problem. “Yes, babe. Let’s go,” Jon then looks at Ramsey coldly before saying goodbye.

But Ramsey isn’t done there, he makes it a point to lean close to Dany and loudly whisper in her ear so that Jon can hear, “You are way too good for Jon Snow, you should give me a call.”

“Don’t hold your breath, Ramsey,” Dany retorts charmingly, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. Dany makes it a point to wrap her arms around Jon and pull him close. His eyes are blazing mad as Ramsey smirks and walks off.

“And that asshole is still checking you out,” Jon hisses, his fists clenched with anger. He and Daenerys walk off the side of the crowd as Ramsey’s leering gaze follows them. Jon is tempted to walk back over to Ramsey and break his nose for looking at his date as though he is undressing her with his eyes.

“Then let Ramsey watch as you kiss me, and hard,” Dany smiles coyly at Jon, then grinning while he pulls her body tightly against his. The idea of that asshole watching them is a turn on for her.

Jon’s mouth crashing down to capture hers in a kiss. With Jon’s back to Ramsey Dany vigorously wraps herself around Jon, pulling him even closer. One of her hands around his lower back and her second hand entwined in Jon’s gorgeous curls that falls against the back of his neck. Mouths open as their tongues move in sync for a passionate kiss.

Finally breaking apart, although it was supposed to be a fake kiss both seem to know that is not the case. Jon rests his forehead to Daenerys, both panting. Finally Dany can take no more, she leans up and kisses Jon for a second time. She doesn’t even care if Ramsey is still watching or not.

Her second kiss catches Jon by surprise, both knowing that it this is not for Ramsey’s benefit alone. Jon leans in, pulling her even closer than before.

++o++ ++o++

Jon and Dany enjoy flirting while at their table in the ballroom. Thankfully Ramsey seems to have gotten the message as he will not even look in either of their directions. One of Jon’s hands always touching or near Daenerys at all times. It gives her a rush to feel so close to him, although she wonders if he is like this with all of his paid escorts. Deciding to push the thought away, Dany tries to enjoy the remainder of the evening. She is with him tonight, not anyone else.

Dany always has a quick witted answer for Mr. Snow, especially when he tries to get grumpy with her. One of his peers casually mentioning that he has never seen Jon look so happy and at ease. Dany smiles graciously, reminding herself that she is being paid to entertain Jon. That’s all.

Later in the evening Dany gets goosebumps, sensing that someone is watching her. She notices that the three women from the bathroom are seated a few tables away and have been watching her and Jon intently. Instead of feeling uncomfortable, Dany feels invigorated. The idea of those mean-girls watching her and Jon enjoying their date is a turn on to her.

While Dany and Ygritte have locked eyes in a glare, she suddenly feels Jon’s breath on her bare shoulder. Jon whispers in her ear, “I really want to kiss you again, with or without Ramsey watching.”

Dany smirks and tucks her hair behind her ear. “Maybe later,” she says with dismissive tone, fighting to hide her grin as Jon huffs in annoyance.

Jon doesn’t like to be teased. But he has to control his urges, his hand twitches. He would love nothing more than to smack her bare ass while she is bent over his lap. Gods, he is crazy about her.

“Daenerys, I need to go backstage and get ready to present an award for the internship program,” Jon says softly. “I’ll be back soon, love.”

“Good luck,” Dany says before giving him a rushed peck on the lips. “There you go, the kiss you wanted.”

Jon’s eyes narrow at his lovely date, she seems to enjoy toying with him. And he is loving every fucking second of it. With other attendees smiling at him, Jon is forced to accept her taunt of a brief kiss with a smile.

Once Jon is gone Dany picks at the dessert on her plate while politely watching as the awards ceremony continues. When Jon is on stage and talking about the internship program Dany gets lost in thought while admiring how attractive he is. It’s more than his looks that have drawn her in, there is something about his personality that excites her.

Her thoughts are suddenly interrupted. Gasping with shock, suddenly Dany almost jumps out of her skin as she feels ice cold liquid fall down the front of her dress, wetting her breasts.

“Oh, no! I am so sorry ma’am. Look at how clumsy I am!” Ygritte cries while standing right behind Dany’s chair with a large glass of ice cold water in her hand. “I hope you can forgive me…”

Dany is seething but realizes that all eyes in the vicinity are on her. Glancing over she sees that the two other girls are sitting at their table and laughing hysterically. This was no accident. This bitch calling her ma’am was an extra nice touch.

As much as she would like to explode. Dany handles it graciously, which awards her with many onlooker’s smiles. Using a napkin to pat her chest and dress dry of the water and even some ice chunks. Ygritte looks disappointed that Daenerys didn’t lose her cool. Dany looks at her watch, it had just turned 9:00PM, she remembers these women need to leave early to watch a flight. Dany smirks to herself, remembering that timing is everything.

Not long later Jon returns to his seat and notices that Dany is getting sympathetic looks from some older women at their table. He asks, Dany if something happened.

“Someone accidentally spilled their drink on me, I thought I got it all, but…” her voice trails off, she notices that Jon looks concerned. “Actually, would you walk with me to the restroom? I think I still need to get cleaned up.”

“Of course,” Jon immediately agrees, he doesn't like to see her distressed. What’s up with that he wonders?

Exiting the ballroom Dany pulls Jon towards the empty coat check room, telling him she has something in her coat that will help with her clean up.

They get there – as she expect the coat check is unmanned because not prime time arrivals or departures of the event. Dany pulls him in any ways and asks him to help her with her dress. Jon follows obediently, having no idea what help she may need but willing to do whatever she asks of him.

Dany purposely leans against a table so that Jon will be facing away from the door. Jon’s eyes brighten with anticipation as Dany pull him close. She bites her lower lip teasingly and enjoys how his eyes don’t leave her mouth. She knows he wants her, just as much as she wants him.

“I was a little mean to you earlier, with that tiny little kiss,” Dany whispers as he moves closer to her, pressing her back against the table.

“Yes, you were. You were being a little naughty,” Jon groans as Dany runs her fingers through his hair and gives it a little tug.

“Just a little, but I hope I haven’t made you angry with me,” Dany says while eyeing him hungrily. She literally wants to devour him.

Jon briefly kisses her mouth, biting her lower lip as she had done before. “I was angry with you, but I am working on forgiveness,” Jon hisses into her ear and his hands tighten around her petite waist.

“Here is the kiss I believe you initially asked for,” Dany says as their mouths crash together before she can finish her sentence.

Their kisses are rough and passionate, Dany completely forgetting about the world around her as Jon holds her closely. Jon presses her harder against the desk as both are panting and making small noises to voice their enjoyment of the physical connection they are sharing.

Suddenly Dany hears horrified gasps coming from the room’s entrance. In her highly distracted state it takes her a couple of moments to realize that is the three girls that had been irritating her all night long. Dany got so caught in the moment with Jon she forgot all about them. She smiles sweetly at them as Jon peppers kisses along her jaw.

Jon doesn’t even look to see who it is, because he doesn’t give a fuck. “We are busy in here, get the hell out,” he snaps over his shoulder while running his hands up and down the outside of Daenerys’s thighs.

“So rude,” Ygritte hisses as she slams the door shut behind them.

Once alone again, Dany laughs as Jon buries his face in her neck to resume kissing her soft skin. She is thrilled that those dumb bitches got to see them fooling around. There has always been a dark part of her that enjoys people watching her in these sexual moments. Dany kisses Jon’s lips hard and slides her hands all over his built chest before sliding her hand to grip his tight ass.

“I thought you needed some help because your dress got wet,” Jon murmurs while kisses down Dany’s collar bone. Going a little slower he begins kissing down her cleavage as she whimpers with anticipation.

Dany guides his hand to the top of her dress where the material is still moist from the water bath she had endured. Jon buries his head in her chest as he kisses the soft flesh in between her beautiful tits. His hands kneading her breasts as he kisses and licks between them. He is rock hard and wants to do things to Daenerys Targaryen that might scare her. There is a darkness in him that he has always denied himself, he wants it with her. He wants it with her right now.

Jon slowly moves his hand from the outside of her thigh to her knee and then kisses her mouth while slowly moving his fingers up her dress. Dany kisses him harder, her heart racing as he gets closer and closer to her core. Jon’s fingertips caress over her thong, he groans at feeling her wetness through the thin fabric.

“You’re wet here too, baby. What can I do to help you with this?” Jon croons, he wants to touch her, to pleasure her.

Dany gasps with desire, but then reality comes crashing down around her. She quickly grasps his wrist and moves his hand away from her aching pussy. Jon immediately lets her guide him away from her.

“Jon, stop. We can’t,” Dany pants, feeling regret but also knowing that she can’t do this. “We need to remember what ‘this is’, please.”

Jon nods in agreement and knows she is referring to the fact that he is paying this gorgeous woman to be his date tonight. On the other hand the connection they share is something he can’t ignore. But he also knows she is not a prostitute that will be paid for sex. This is a high end agency that does not tolerate money for sex. Nor does he.

But he still feels drawn to her and he won’t ignore it. He has never felt this way about another woman before.

“Let’s get out of here, baby,” Jon whispers before nibbling on her earlobe. “My driver can pull my car around and take us anywhere, let’s just go for a ride.”

Dany knows she should say no, but with his arms around her and his lips pressed to her neck she has lost all restraint and common sense.

“Okay.”

++o++ ++o++

“I am serious, Daenerys,” Jon says for the second time. His driver is taking them for a long ride around the city of Chicago while they talk things out. “I want you to quit your job, no more dates with other men.”

“I know you are serious,” Dany says calmly, but she is not the type of woman that is going to be told what to do. “My answer is still no, Jon.”

Jon scowls, this is not what expected. He can’t stand the thought of Daenerys going on other dates through her job as an escort. He fucking hates the idea. Jon’s eyes flash with anger, he is getting more and more upset.

Why is she fucking fighting me on this? Shit, what if she has an actual boyfriend?

Oh well, fuck him. I am not giving her up without a fight.

“I don’t want to keep discussing this in the car. Come to my condo, so we can work this out,” Jon demands of her. He can’t imagine saying goodbye to her for the night, or forever “The night isn’t over.”

Dany can sense his desperation, his passion right below the surface of his cold demeanor. She also knows that her resolve to avoid getting physical with Jon is quickly faltering. Dany know that she wants him, badly.

“Okay. But just to talk,” Dany mumbles.

Jon smirks and agrees before instructing his driver to take them home.

As the ride continues, Jon pulls her nearer. She melds her body next to his, her heart races. She longs to be close to him. Jon traces patterns on her knee with his fingertips, Dany sighs happily in response. As the car nears his home Jon begins to plant wet kisses on her neck, going lower with each kiss. Daenerys moans his name, squeezing her legs tightly to help ease the ache she feels.

The couple pause to stare at each other, with no words needed between them, their lips meet in a passionate kiss. They kiss and hold each other until the car is parked in the underground garage of Jon’s building.

Thanking his driver and asking him to keep his cell phone on, Jon tells him it is possible that his guest will need a ride home this evening.

“If you choose to leave, of course. I want you to stay,” Jon tells Daenerys confidently.

Dany blushes but says nothing. She isn’t sure what she really wants or what will or won’t happen this night.

Jon takes his date on a full tour of his home, which he knows is impressive. Dany is polite as Jon leads her through his high end condo. They continue to flirt as the evening progresses, finally settling on a game of pool in Jon’s game room.

As Dany bends over to line up her shot, Jon places his hand on her back for the sole purpose of touching her. The couple has been very touchy-feely throughout the night. Dany takes her shot and pockets two, she laughs as she has finally caught up to Jon. Standing up, she feels him directly behind her as he plants a firm kiss on her bare shoulder.

“Daenerys, I want you. I want to lay you down on my bed, be rough with you while giving you extreme pleasure,” Jon admits, he can’t take it much longer.

Daenerys hears his words, frowning. She can’t blame him for saying or thinking these things. But she just can’t get over feeling like it would be wrong. It is one thing to be a paid escort that goes on fancy dates that says goodnight at the end of an event, it is another to be paid while having sex with a man. Even the physical things that Dany has already done with Jon this evening has her feeling embarrassed, ashamed even.

Jon Snow has completely put her into a tailspin.

“Say something,” Jon pushes, seeing her internal struggle.

“Jon, part of me can’t even believe I am standing here. I am twenty four years old, a college student…this is a job for me. That is all,” Dany says bleakly, making Jon visibly cringe. “To be clear, I have never been physically affectionate in this job. I certainly have never been paid for sex!”

“I understand, Daenerys. I get it because I’ve never paid for sex, period. And yes, I’ve used the escort service numerous times...but only for public events,” Jon admits. “I hope you believe me.”

Dany nods softly, she is somewhat relieved to hear this isn’t a regular thing for him but it still doesn’t solve her internal dilemma.

“I would do anything...to have you, right now,” Jon says while pulling her closer and kissing her neck. Jon’s hands holding her closely. “I want you, baby. Only you. Tell me you don’t have a boyfriend or somethings like that.”

“Would you please hand me my purse,” Dany says softly, ignoring Jon’s confused look as he does as she asks.

Thanking him, she pulls out her cell phone. Opening the phone app for the Escort Company she pulls up her user account. Jon’s eyebrows furrow as she ignores him and begins selecting buttons. She positions the phone so that he can see what she is doing.

Daenerys signals that her in progress date with Mr. Jon Snow has ended. Effectively clocking her out.

And then she flags Mr. Jon Snow as someone she will not see again as a client.

Jon is crushed, he takes a step away from her. He is surprised at how much her rejection hurts.

“Okay, if that is what you want. I will call my driver, he will get you home safely,” Jon says coolly, he is upset. Jon gets his phone out of his pocket, shaking his head as he scrolls through his phone to call his driver.

Dany is confused by Jon’s actions for a second before realizing what Jon must be thinking. He actually thinks that was her way of letting him know that she was done with him. He couldn’t be further from the truth. “I have a better idea, Jon Snow. How about instead you kiss me and take me to your bed. Since I am no longer getting paid for this evening. You made some pretty big promises earlier….the words extreme pleasure and rough were used.”

Jon’s mouth falls open and then he sees the laughter in Dany’s eyes, she is actually amused at his distress.

Jon frowns, pulling her close and kissing her before speaking. “But you flagged me as someone you never want to see again?”

“Yes, I did,” Dany laughs at his cross expression. “From now on, if you want to spend time with me - you can ask me out the old fashioned way. And take me out on a real date.”

Two can play this game, Jon thinks to himself.

“Look Daenerys, that is great and all. But now that you have flagged me as someone that you don’t want to see again, that may impact my overall customer rating...what if that influences access to all the other woman I can date at your escort agency…” Jon says seriously, looking concerned while not really paying attention to her.

Dany realizes he wants to keep seeing other women through the escort service and gets pissed. “Screw you, I am out of here!” she hisses while pushing past him. She can take a cab she decides.

“Now, now. Don’t be hasty, the least I can do…” Jon scoops the petite beauty into his arms as he walks her to his bedroom. “Is make you come before you leave.”

Dany’s mouth falls open at his nerve, she is about to demand he release her when his mouth finds her earlobe and nibbles on it sensually. Sighing, she allows him to pull her closer to him. She is upset, but her desire for him is overwhelming.

“Fine, you can make me come. That is the least you can do,” Dany huffs as Jon places her gently on his large bed.

“You are so fucking hot when you are mad,” Jon says while flipping Dany to lie on her stomach, his hand finding the zipper at the top of her dress. “Really, you are fucking hot at all times...but your wrath excites me, love.”

Dany gasps quietly as Jon slowly lowers the zipper of his dress, leaning over her he kisses down her body as the opening zipper reveals more and more of her bare flesh. She closes her eyes as the zipper nears the top of her thong, her heart racing with anticipation.

Jon groans appreciatively when he sees that she is wearing a bright red thong, a contrast to the black dress that has enticed him all evening. Feeling the blood rush to his cock he can’t take it any longer, he bends down and slowly licks behind the trail the opening zipper leaves.

“I was just joking about my rating, I don’t want anyone else but you,” Jon says while pulling her dress down and off. “But your fiery temper was a complete turn on.”

“Is that so?” Dany murmurs as she turns over to lie on her back, enjoying the way Jon’s eyes darken at seeing her now exposed breasts. “I think you better get to work, Jon Snow. I am expecting ‘extreme pleasure’ - I’ve waited long enough.”

Jon frowns, “You being a little naughty still. I told you I was joking, that I only want you, and you still seem cross with me.”

Sitting up on her elbows Dany raises her eyebrows, “And what if I am still cross with you? What are you going to do about it?” She challenges him.

Pulling off his shirt to toss aside, he studies her face to ensure she knows what she is asking for. The things he wants to do to her, he is hungry for her.

Jon roughly pulls her off the bed to stand in front of him, she is absolutely stunning. “I am going to start by kissing the shit out of you, and then I am going to fuck you.”

(Photo credit: Edit made by Tumblr user  @motherdragons86 - check out her awesome work)  @motherofdragons86

Dany throws her arms around his neck as Jon’s lips crash to hers. His hands sliding up and down her bare back before resting on her ass. He squeezes and kneads her plump cheeks before pressing his hard bulge against her. As their kisses intensify Dany moans loudly, Jon kissing down her neck until he reaches her tits.

Licking and sucking Jon explores her breasts as he has fantasized about all night long. Dany pulls the hair tie out of his hair to release his dark curls, then running her fingers through his hair in order to move his head closer to her body.

Jon sits on the bed, moving her to stand in front of him. He begins kissing lower and lower, until slowly pulling down her thong. “I need to taste you, I want to make you scream,” he tells her.

Dany whimpers, she is desperate for him. Jon guides one of her feet to rest next to him on the bed, effectively opening her legs to him. With her legs spread open, Dany gets excited at being fully exposed to him. Jon leans in and kisses her sweet pussy, his hands holding her waist steady as she shakes with arousal. The flicker of his tongue sending her waves of pleasure through her entire body.

Jon licks, and sucks until his darkness intensifies, testing her comfort level he gives her a small bite at the fleshy side of her pussy.

“Oh, Jon! Fuck, yeah…” Dany groans as his teeth nip her again, she can feel her body about to peak.

Jon’s mouth is all over her, his tongue fucking her as his fingers circle her clit. Dany screams out and releases, her body shaking as he holds her tight, helping her not to fall.

Lapping her juices as she calms down from her orgasm Dany trembles in his arms. She is a little sore from his bites, but she also really likes it. He didn’t overpromise. The pleasure he just gave her was incredible.

“Jon...I want more,” she whimpers with longing.

In record time Jon pulls Daenerys down to be bent over the bed, her bare ass taunting him. Jon gives into his desire and smacks her right ass cheek hard. Dany yelps in surprise before squeezing her thighs closed, she is so wet with arousal. Her juices of desire flowing again.

Jon undoes his pants and begins stroking his hard cock. Watching his hand print bloom on her creamy white skin excites him tremendously. He has never felt so comfortable with a woman, this girl is making him crazy. He traces his hand print on her ass cheek, she whimpers with longing. He knows she wants more, he knows she wants him.

Jon curses under his breath.

“Baby, what is it?” Dany asks quietly, still recuperating from her orgasm and the slight sting of his last smack on her ass.

“It’s been a really long time for me, I don’t have any condoms. Do you?” Jon asks as his fingers begin pleasuring her slowly.

“I don’t, but it’s been a really long time for me too. Oh, no boyfriend by the way. I’ve had the birth control shot, and I’m clean...I mean if...well…” Dany’s voice falters as Jon’s fingers increase their speed.

“I am clean too, I want you. I want to fuck you hard,” Jon groans while tugging and pulling at his own dick, rubbing it along the crevice of her ass.

“Then do it, now!” Dany hisses. “Fuck me!”

Jon’s free hand slaps her right butt cheek again, Dany cries out in response as he feels her clench around his finger that is still working her. He knows she likes it, it makes her aroused.

Both breathing hard Jon leans over her, his large hand clutches her throat gently. He is testing to see if she is okay with it. She doesn’t protest as he pulls her up to arch against his chest. Daenerys breaths in quickly, her head falling back on his shoulder in submission. She wants him to take her, she wants him to be in control.

Jon groans in appreciation, he wants to dominate her and take care of her at the same time. He wants her to be submissive, he needs her to trust him.

Jon wets his shaft with her wetness, she is so aroused it makes him groan with excitement as he remembers her taste on his tongue. Jon positions his tip at her slick entrance, she is so wet, he thrusts forward. His cock sliding roughly into her, making her gasp loudly at the intrusion. There is a slight sting as he completely fills her. Jon pushes every inch of his cock into her, holding her as she shudders against him.

Once Dany signals that she is ready, Jon begins frantically fucking her, and hard. With his hand still around her neck he places his other hand tightly on her hip to hold her still as he pounds into her from behind. Daenerys gasps as he pushes in and out, his pace frantic. The sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

“Oh fuck...yes, yes, please fuck me harder!” Dany cries as she clenches tightly around him, her ass pushing into his body.

Jon releases a short guttural sound, his hand tightening on her hip as he bends her over the bed again. This time his hand moving from her throat to hold her hair. “Your fucking amazing, Daenerys. God I love this,” Jon grunts with lust, his eyes closed tightly as his body strains to take her.

Dany gasps as he resumes taking her, the different position allowing him to fuck her even harder and faster.

“Shit!” Dany screams. “Just like that, don’t stop.”

Jon watches his thick cock slide in and out of her body, the sight is enough to make him cry out as he continues to move. He feels himself about to release, he wants her to come with him. Moving his hand from her hip he leans over her, reaching around to stimulate her clit.

Dany moans and whimpers as her orgasm rolls over her. Jon lean over and bite her shoulder as she climaxes, her pussy spasms around his cock as Jon holds her sweet flesh gently in his teeth. Jon resumes pounding into her until his orgasm rolls through him.

He pushes in deep as his seed spills into her, holding her tightly against him. His balls snuggly pressed between them.

Both crawl up the bed as Jon pulls her tightly into his arms. Dany is panting softly as she tries to control her breathing. Jon’s heart still racing as he caresses her skin.

“Jon?” Dany whispers.

“Yes, love?” Jon mumbles, kissing her forehead.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Dany smiles into his chest, her body still enjoying the delicious ache from the proper fucking he just gave her. “I will stop seeing other clients, I will quit my job as an escort.”

Jon smiles broadly, he is thrilled and relieved all at once. He really cares about her and doesn’t want to share any part of her.

“This evening with you, just getting to meet you, to know you...was money well spent. Thank you for quitting that job, it means a lot to me,” Jon tells her with a smile on his face as he cranes his neck to look into her eyes. “Now I won’t have to spank you again.”

Daenerys just laughs before kissing him tenderly. She also knows that there is no way in hell that was the last time Jon Snow will spank her, the thought exciting her.

++o+ Story End +o++

Part II: Money Can’t Buy Me Love - Read here (X)