#i say happiness* in that I assume dan might get recalled back to be part of the next smith syndicate iteration if Harman really needed him

[malewifehenrycooldown]

Its late and I've been writing up a really long post about how dan/ashleigh's relationship happens which can really be summarised as follows: "Two roommates are mutually pining for each other but believe their feelings are one-sided but its not actually."

don't get me wrong they do eventually get together, it just takes a bit to get there. And even then when it gets serious - it gets ripped away and it takes like. *checks notes* 36 years for them to properly reunite and actually have their happiness* together in the afterlife (or whatever the equivalent is in the killer7 universe is.)

[banshee1013]

Suptober Day 10 - Sweet Rides

OMG I GOT ONE DONE ON TIME (well, sorta, HAHA).

I finally managed to keep myself to a pencil drawing only, still took me 4 hours but I’m pretty pleased with it.

Then I stayed up until 1:30am finishing the fic - which was supposed to be a FICLET - 2k later! Oops.

Anyway, here’s Day Ten! Now to figure out what to do for tomorr... uh, later today, haha.

====================================

Overall Title: The Road Less Traveled

Overall Rating: Mature (may change to Explicit, we’ll see how it goes)

Tags: Castiel/Dean, mention of Sam/Eileen, Post-Season 15, ExAngel!Cas, MostlyRetiredHunter!Dean, Road Trip

(Note: all ficlets are unbeta’d. At the end of the month, I’ll wrap up whatever I manage to get written, clean it up, get it beta’d, and post to AO3. So please pardon any mistakes!)

========================================================

CHAPTER FIVE - SWEET RIDES

Words: 2026

Dean’s fingers drum a one-handed beat on the steering wheel, keeping time with John Bonham coming over the speakers. His other hand, resting on the bench seat next to him, is loosely entwined with Cas’. 

After their rainy weekend interlude at Rufus’ cabin, Cas has been extra hands-on; never out of contact with Dean in one way or another for very long - and Dean has zero complaints with this development.

Giving a quick squeeze, he disengages his hand from Cas’ and flips the turn signal, sliding over to the lane for I-5 North. 

Cas up to this point has been focused on the passing scenery with half-lidded eyes and soft smile, quiet and seemingly lost in thought. Dean had squeezed his hand a few times during the eight hour drive from the cabin, checking to see if he’d dropped off, but every time Cas had turned to him, returning the squeeze; the look in his eyes full of love and warmth, and Dean will do anything to keep Cas looking at him like that. 

This time, Cas turns to him, but his eyes are now full of curiosity. 

“I-5 North? I thought you wished to go south after we reached the west coast?”

“Thought we’d make a pit stop first.” Dean smirked to himself, recalling the conversation with Sam yesterday when he’d called to check in and found out they were headed to Seattle. 

------------

“Seattle, huh? Helluva drive just to get some Starbucks!” Sam snorted, his voice echoing slightly with the speakerphone on so he can sign the conversation to Eileen.

“Haha, Sammy. No way am I getting Starbucks in Seattle - that’s like going to Italy and getting McDonalds.” Dean paused, glancing over his shoulder toward the bedroom, the Cas-shaped blanket-covered lump in the bed still unmoving, and silently cursed himself for not setting his phone on silent. 

He desperately wanted to be back in there with him.

“So, everything alright? I gotta go, things to do.” More like someONE to do…

Sam did not sound convinced but didn’t push the issue. “Nah, all good here. Eileen and I are back at the bunker and just wanted to make sure you didn’t end up in a ditch somewhere.” Sam chuckles at his own joke, then continues, “Hey, I know where you should go… y’know, when you get to Seattle.” 

Dean sighs - now that he knows nothing is wrong, he’s tempted feign a bad connection and hang up - but he’s genuinely curious to find out what Sam is going to suggest. “Yeah? Do tell.”

“You should get some Dick’s.”

“Hahaha very funny, “ Dean growls, and moves to hang up when Sam yells, “Wait, WAIT!”

“WHAT?” Dean grimaces at the volume of his voice and glances over at his shoulder again. Cas stirs and rolls over but doesn’t wake. “What?” he says again, quieter.

“I mean, you should go eat a Dick’s.” Sam giggles, and Dean hears Eileen's soft laugh in the background.

“Okay, that’s it. I’m outta here.” Dean pulls the phone back from his ear once again and starts to hang up when he hears Eileen’s voice - “Dean, wait!” 

With a mighty sigh, he puts the phone back to his ear and hears a smack in the background; an open palm against muscle and cloth, followed by Eileen’s voice:  “Stop BEING a dick and tell him.” 

“Okay, okay. You guys are no fun.” Sam speaks into the phone again. “It’s a fast food place out there. ‘Best burgers in America’ according to Esquire Magazine.”

-------------------

Cas’ brow pinches in confusion and it’s still the most adorable thing ever. “Pit stop? Why are we stopping for pits?” His eyes narrow. “Are they peach pits? Do you need to distill cyanide from them?”

Dean can’t help himself - he outright guffaws. “No, no cyanide, why would I… I mean, we’re making a detour, stopping somewhere here in Seattle before heading south.” 

“Ah, very well then.” Cas tilts his head. “Is it for coffee? I hear Starbucks is headquartered here, I suppose acquiring some from the original source might be interesting.” 

“NO Starbucks… seriously, why does everyone…,” Dean pauses, then carefully schools his face into a serious expression, “We’re going for Dick’s.” 

“EXCUSE ME?”

“BURGERS!” Dean manages to gasp out as he gets the laughter under control. “It’s a burger place Sam told me about. ‘The most life-changing burger joint in America’ or so Esquire Magazine would have you believe.” Turning to Cas, he arches an eyebrow. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

                                                ~~~ *** ~~~

“What the… Cas, I think I’m gonna be sick.” 

No, it wasn’t from the burgers - Dean hadn’t even gotten to those yet. He’s not even sure if they can. 

As they pulled into the parking area for Dick’s Drive-In, he had slammed on the brakes, Baby coming to a sudden stop with a squeal of rubber on pavement at the sight before him.

The parking lot was full - of Impalas.

Black 1967 Impalas to be exact. DOZENS of them, all in a row.

Some had their trunks open, the inside of the lids decorated with devil traps and wards. Others had green coolers nearby, identical to the one in his backseat. 

The squeal of tires had drawn the attention of the people gathered around, and one in particular waves and makes his way over to them.

“Oh shit, no no no…” Dean mutters, then quickly plasters on a wan smile as the guy approaches his window and leans on the sill. 

“Hey there, I”m Davis, President of the Seattle chapter of the Supernatural Haunted Impalas club.” Dean glanced down at the man’s outstretched hand, briefly considers peeling rubber out of the parking lot and reluctantly decides against it - the last thing they need is a APB out on them for decapitating a guy in full view of witnesses - and takes the guy’s hand. 

“hi, uh… De.. Daniel. I”m Daniel… uh, Dan, and this is… “ Releasing the guy’s… Davis’... hand, he turns to Cas, eyes wide and imploring. 

Thankfully, Cas gets it. “Calvin,” Cas says, taking Davis’ hand and giving it a solemn shake - up and down, twice, and a quick release - “You can call me Cal.” 

Davis blinks, then gives them a broad smile. “Nice to meet you boys. We’re all just parked over there, find a spot and come say hi!” He leans back, his smile widening. “Nice cosplay, by the way - Dean, I presume, and you must be Endverse Cas, am I right?” He throws fingerguns and a wink before turning to head back to the group.

“We should leave… yeah, we should definitely get the HELL OUTTA HERE…” Dean looks over his shoulder, trying to figure out the quickest way to bail on the situation; but just then, a loud rumble erupts from Cas’ stomach. 

“Dean…” Cas sighs. “I’m very hungry, and you promised me a life-changing burger.” He gestures at the group, many of whom are now actively watching them. “And they’ve already noticed us. We might as well go and order the burgers, and then make an excuse to leave.” He drops puppy-dog eyes to rival Sam’s, and Dean knows he has no recourse but to go through with the charade - at least long enough to get a burger.

“FINE. We’ll order the burgers, make nice with locals while they’re cookin’, and then get the hell outta Dodge.” 

Dean pulls into a spot at the end of the long line of Baby Wanna-Be’s. No sooner had they climbed out and closed the doors, a bubbly brunette bounces over to them. 

“Hey guys, you look great! And wow, your Baby is GORGEOUS! What’s her name?” She claps a hand over her mouth in dismay. “Oh, of course, I shouldn’t assume gender. What’s your Baby’s name?” 

Dean’s lips part but nothing comes out, at a loss for words - then, “Baby.” 

The bouncy brunette blinks, then nods, the smile returning. “Uh, great! Awesome!” She extends her hand. “I’m Brittany, and this is my girl, Gertrude,” indicating the Impala parked next to them. 

Dean has to admit - Gertrude is in great shape. “Hi, Brittany, I”m De… Dan.” He passes an admiring gaze over the car. “She’s beautiful.” 

Brittany blushes fiercely. “Thank you so much! She’s my pride and joy.” 

Dean can’t help but grin - he gets it. “I know how you feel.” He starts toward the car, his interest piqued now.

Cas grabs his elbow. “Dean… uh, DAN,” he stammers. “We should order our food first.” 

“Oh, right! Of course.” He turns back to Brittany. “Give us a moment? We’re starving.” 

Brittany nods like her head is on a swivel. “OH of course! We’re not going anyway, go feed your boyfriend!” She turns back to Gertrude and strikes up a conversation with another couple. 

They make their way to the order counter with no further distractions and order their food, both choosing the “Dick’s Deluxe” with fries and milkshakes, then wander over to the group of Impala owners. 

By the time their food is ready, Dean is genuinely surprised at how much fun he’s actually having - the Impala owners are friendly and really know their cars, the pride of ownership evident - and Dean can’t help but respect that. However, they of course are also just as fanatical about Chuck’s books, which Dean struggles to hide his discomfort with. 

As they head back to the counter to pick up their food, Dean turns to Cas. “I dunno about all this, Cas - they’re really into Chuck’s books and they have no idea what a tool he was.” His head drops with a sigh. “Should we tell them?” 

“No, Dean.” Cas looks back over his shoulder at the group, their laughter and happy voices carrying across the parking lot. “They’re happy; the books have brought them together, given them friendship - a family, even.”  He shakes his head. ‘Chuck used those words to manipulate you, but they have no power over you - over US - anymore. This way, they serve a good purpose.” 

Dean blinks - he hadn’t thought of it that way. Of course Cas is right. 

“Yeah... and look at all the sweet rides that came from them!” 

                                                ~~~ *** ~~~

They gather their food order and head back to say their goodbyes, but the group appear to be packing up anyway - trunks being closed and coolers returned to their backseats. 

Davis approaches them. “Hey guys… we’re about to head out, but we’re only going over to Golden Gardens Park to watch the sunset and hang out around the fire pits. You’re welcome to join.” He nudges Dean with his elbow. “The group’s really taken a shine to you,” he says with a bright grin, “and your Baby, of course.” 

Dean turns to Cas, throwing an arm over his shoulder. “Whadda ya say, sweetheart? Our first sunset…” he shakes the bag of food in his other hand, “and dinner on the West Coast?” 

“I would love to, Dean.” Cas’ eyes are bright, his smile soft and warm and Dean really wants to kiss him right now, but… company.

“Adorable,” Davis says, hands clasped in delight. “I love how you two stay so in character.” 

                                                  ~~~ *** ~~~

The last rays of the sun slip behind the Olympic Mountains, but Dean is watching Cas watch the sunset. 

He’ll never get tired of the look of wonder on Cas’ face when he experiences new things. 

Or for that matter, the sounds he makes, either. Listening to him moan through that admittedly fantastic burger was downright pornographic. 

He places a hand on Cas’ fire-warmed cheek and turns him away from the dimming horizon.

Damn the company. He’s gonna kiss his boyfriend.

He tastes the salt from the fries, the sharp vinegar of the pickles, the rich savory flavor of the burger, the lingering sweetness of the milkshake. 

He tastes the unique flavor of Cas and relishes it. 

Cas threads his fingers into the hair at the back of Dean’s neck and tilts his head just so and oh, it’s so, so good. 

He hears a few giggles and more than a couple “awws” and pays them no mind. 

He’s way too busy thinking about a completely different type of sweet ride.

[spiftynifty]

TeeVee Podcast’s Voltron s8 review

I’ve been waiting eagerly for TeeVee’s review of s8. If you recall, their s7 review was what gave us the man getting choked up about Shiro’s relationship. 

The link to the podcast is here but if you’d prefer a sort of transcript, here are some of the highlights for me. I didn’t always catch who was speaking but I wrote down initials where I could. S=Shanon, A=Antony, M=Moises, C=Chip D=Dan. The panel is divided on their feelings on the season. 2 of them seem to have hated it, one liked it, one thought it was fine, and one feels mixed about it. Anyway here we go, some great quotes ahead. 

Under the readmore cuz it’s long. 

S: "After 7 seasons of a show that was going to be one of the animated series of the decade, they not only did not stick the landing, they fell on their butts, rolled off the mat, off the lines, into the judge's table and their leotard popped open"

"A lot of the plot was callbacks to things from seasons ago that we really probably didn't need to see again." "I wasn't entirely sure that they weren't gaslighting me."

Man Shannon is calling out some great points. She's calling out the dropped druid plot thread, and wondering what the point was of showing Lotor's past when he's dead, and nothing can change in his present and his redemption can't really happen.

A: "endings are hard. I was disappointed with this season [...] it was let down by poor plotting and that final battle made me throw my hands up in despair most of the time. But I have enormous sympathy for the EPs. Maintaining a longform episodic story is hard. And to pull off an ending that satisfies even MOST of the audience is harder yet. and let's not forget they were always upfront that vt always had 'editorial interference' from up top. Toys, the fact that it's aimed at children, corp resistance to some of the more modern social issues that they've tried to tackle. THAT SAID, we don't know what happened on this production, who had the final say, what they argued over. and I say this cuz a lot of the fandom drama over it assumes a LOT over how media and entertainment like this is made that simple ARE. NOT. TRUE. Some of the stuff I've read has been ABSURDLY offbase, like that there were different writers rather than just 1 the whole way through which ignores how TV is made. And if you think these writers just go off and write a script without talking to anyone first and then they come back with something that must be filmed without any changes, THAT'S NOT HOW ANY OF THIS WORKS. [..]we don't know who made these decisions. The studio isn't always the bad guy. Sometimes they rescue things that would otherwise have been a horrible mess. And unless you were IN THE ROOM, you don't know, and neither do any of us. So let's all bear that in mind. [...]You can't lay the blame OR credit on any one person. For any of this." 

They're laughing & making so much fun of the final 3 episodes and how baffling they were. 

"Don't even get me started on Voltron merging with Atlas [and the crew disappearing] that was a bad, bad idea." 

"But that was the ONE time Shiro was back with the team!"

a couple dudes are relatively ok with the Allura death because we've never seen a WOC heroically sacrifice herself for the universe and usually it's the Shiro hero character D: They also point out that technically she wasn't fridged so.. yay?

Antony and Shannon vehemently disagree. 

A: "My problem with that ending was more just that it was... not. good." he makes a comparison to RotJ where Vader still dies and it's his SON, who lives, who 'redeems' him. "This was none of those things. It felt like a terrible lesson. You can be so evil that you kill literally billions of people for 10k yrs but if you say sorry just before you're about to be executed it's alright, dw about it, we'll put the universe back to rights. NO, that's a terrible lesson!!"

S:"They had the LIONS. That's my problem. Throughout this series we've had stakes going up but there has always been a trading of ideas, what can we do, what can we figure out, up to the point where they wind up sacrificing the castle, but they go through steps before that 'is there anything else we can do’. And here, there's not even... she didn't even get to say goodbye to Coran! This is the one character, WOC, and she has sacrificed throughout this entire series. She lost her planet. She lost the last connection she had to her father in the AI. She kept LOSING things over and over to the point where she sacrifices her crown to help Shiro. and the thanks she gets is that she has to turn around and say nope I've got to away and fix all of this and apparently never see you all again. It really, REALLY REALLY bothered me. All of my friends who have CHILDREN who watch this show, universally the kids were upset and angry and tearful and HATED that outcome. This did not feel like a triumph. Having to lose Allura like that robbed any kind of triumph in the success of saving all the universes. And I think that's one of the reasons that this last part of the season sits so poorly with me. I feel like it should have ended in a triumphant way. even if it meant losing a couple of the team members or the lions. Of course that takes away the toy aspect which is why that's not an option. We already had several tragedy arcs in this series. Zarkon, Honerva, and Lotor had tragedy arcs. Why does Allura have to have one too? We've had enough." 

Antony & Shanon KILLIN IT on this podcast y'all.

C: "This series relies so much on 'oh wait, there's a new upgrade', 'oh wait, there's this new thing'" A: "Well that was the entire final battle." C: "So there's this handwavy Allura has to sacrifice herself. The heavy lifting wasn't done to make this an earned moment."

S: "I do think, whether it was at the direction of DW or WEP (Vld IP), without those little epilogue cards, there is the potential opening that Allura might be able to return.[..]It was open to interpretation."

One guy likes the Shiro ending for the surprising progress aspect, even though he's not thrilled about how it was put together. also he isn't convinced the epilogue wasn't planned. He likes a lot of s8 but all the stuff he likes is tied to stuff that he really didn't like.

S:"The shiro card is the other reason that I think those things were shoved in. For me, that turns Shiro's entire character into a token when he wasn't before. When they introduced his sexuality, it was done BEAUTIFULLY. There was this conversation with his significant other a mature relationship that ran into its problems and therefore couldn't happen anymore. Adam could've been Adele, and nothing would have changed about that conversation. It was not the defining characteristic of Shiro. It was just something else about him."

S: "And then s8 happens and Shiro is divided from everybody on the team. There are so few interactions of any kind that aren't just barking orders. or making plans. Keith is the prime example. Their friendship had been a backbone of this series and suddenly they can't even stand more than feet 5ft from each other. 

A: “It’s barely evident, yeah.”

M:”And the same with the rest of the main cast. And if they had set that up at the end of s7, that he’s going to go into the background a bit, it wouldn’t have felt as weird.

S: “And they didn’t! S7 was miraculous in the fact that even though he’s no longer in a lion, he’s still got a vital part to play in the series. And s8 erased that. It pretty much neutered him! And the kind of message is once you've revealed this character to be gay, we've gotta keep him out of the way. And if they had not put those end cards in, again the fact that he's a gay man is just the fact that he's a gay man and it's not any bigger or smaller aspect of his character, but they did not EARN him marrying random bridge crew member #3."

A: "and RETIRING! A man who LEFT adam because he felt he had to go and fight."

A: "He left the guy he loved before because of his devotion to"

S:"To fighting to making things right"

A:”To being a soldier and doing the right thing.”

C:”Isn’t the whole point then that he achieves that?”

M:”The fighting’s over and he can leave that behind and he can actually be happy.”

S: “He wouldn’t’ve. I don’t see it.”

M: “I violently disagree.”

C: “I think it was a nice endcap for his character."

Moises also likes this because it’s not a BYG scenario and he gets retired. Shannon is extremely exasperated by these takes. 

S:”For me, it’s like Tangled. You go through Rapunzel and Flynn, going through their adventures, getting closer, getting to know each other, they save each other, things like that. And then she’s reunited with her parents and then we get and endcap that says ‘for political reasons her parents decided they needed to marry her off to the prince in the next county, sorry’. That would’ve had people RIOTING. Thats not how you do a story with characters that people care about. And to shove shiro off onto this random character that we--his name is never spoken!”

A:”No he had like 3 lines in the entire season.”

S:”He had 3 line sin the season, you don’t know his name unless you watched the subtitles, and in the audio narration for the visually impaired, they called him Adam in the endcap. They called him Adam! They fixed that now. It feels like a hugely clumsy attempt to grab the woke points for a character that didn’t need them.”

Moises then talks a little about Shiro and Keith and how he and Shannon both thought there was something there, and still do, but they can’t know what happened behind the scenes and to theorize on the intent of that relationship is “conspiracy theory land” and trying to decide what the writers were prevented from doing is like “reading tea leaves and chicken bones”. He references people extracting things from his own writing. 

M: “As much as I wanted to see that relationship flower and flourish, the fact that it didn’t, look, it’s one of a million times that’s happened for me, with fiction, where things didnt turn out the way I wanted to see them.”

S:”I’m talking about 2 different things, as far as Shiro’s character, vs shipping  issues. I feel Shiro’s character was done a disservice that if they were going to end him in a relationship with another man, they didn’t earn it by throwing that little endcap on.”

M:”Yeah, they could have brought back one less robeast or something.”

S:”The other thing is, I think there is enough out there as far as interviews with JDS and LM to show that at the very least I think they meant to leave it openended. Again  if you take out that endcap, the last shot includes a shot of just Shiro and Keith, together, same screen, looking up as the lions go away, without saying anything further. I know I pie in the sky hoped that they were gonna kiss this season when we did our s7 recap and yes that was the shipper in me talking. I truly did not expect that they would be able to go that far. What I did not expect was for them to tear it down. And I feel like that’s what they did. Between the complete absence of interactions in s8, and then throwing that epilogue in there.”

Dan doesn’t understand how that could be because he sees no reason for them to do that. Shannon patiently explains about DW’s history with LGBT characters but Dan insists that the creators told the story the way they wanted to and he’s fine with Shiro getting a marriage even if it’s a character they don’t know. 

Overall the panelists love the show still, and in most cases prefer to consider it in the realm of s1-6 with a weak final double season (7&8) or that the show ends after s7. They would all love to know how long the NDAs last, a making of perhaps, to know what the heck happened and what changed along the way. Big mood my dudes. Big mood.

[linzerj]

Golden Gate’s Heroes -c2

Yo so i finally finished part 2! Sorry it took so long but the dialogue really threw me off and i’m still not sure i’m happy with it. also I’m bad at writing and updating consistently so. uh. yeah please don’t get your hopes up for a speedy update i’m sorry. also sorry about the lack of venom i really just gotta rewatch the movies when i get the chance 

So after that first awkward babysitting thing where they discovered ‘oh hey you have a secret identity I have a secret identity too’, Eddie and Scott met up a grand total of three times. Two of those times were just Eddie babysitting Cassie again, because Cassie really liked him and Venom and they weren’t going to say no to that adorable kid. The first of those times was really just Eddie and Cassie hanging out again, this time at Eddie’s much-less-nice apartment. They did arts and crafts while Cassie asked Venom questions about themself, and throughout the evening Venom slowly acquired more and more glittery cut-out crowns and ribbons. They looked absolutely ridiculous, but it made Cassie happy and Eddie thought it was cute, and so they tolerated the decorations.

The second time, Scott actually invited Eddie out to dinner with him and Cassie after babysitting. It was a bit awkward, but as Eddie recalled stories from his time on The Eddie Brock Show and Scott told him stories about life before and after prison, they found more and more common ground. By the end of it, they weren’t best friends per say, but a lot of the awkwardness and tension had definitely faded down.

The third time they met up, Cassie was still there because she was great at keeping them from being too awkward and weird, but Eddie met them at Pier 39. It was just a casual time hanging out, really, but as they talked in hushed tones about Scott’s experiences as Ant-Man and how Eddie and Venom were still learning to be a functional ‘we’, Eddie figured he would definitely call Scott a friend.

Which was definitely a good thing, given his only other friends were Anne and Dan, and while they were great it was still weird to hang out with his ex-fiancée and her super nice doctor boyfriend sometimes.

Eddie figured he should introduce Scott and Cassie to Anne and Dan sometime. They’d be so proud that he had managed to make new friends, even if one of them was still only a kid who liked giving Venom flower crowns.

But first, he apparently had to meet Scott’s new girlfriend and her parents, the people who gave Scott the Ant-Man suit.

“Dude come on,” Scott was saying. This was now the fourth time they were talking face-to-face, once again after Eddie had babysat Cassie. “They’re super nice, I swear.”

“Man, I still…we still don’t know.” Eddie sighed, scrubbing his face.

“Cassie will be there if that helps, my dude.”

“I mean.” Eddie made a vague gesture. “I guess? But still.”

“Is this about not wanting to make a bad first impression, because believe me, they won’t care that much. I mean they still like me, so.”

Eddie just leveled an unimpressed look at Scott, to which Scott shrugged. “Alright so I may have also mentioned you once or twice to Hope and Hank and Jan and now they really want to meet you.”

“Dude you are the worst. Just give it a bit longer, okay?”

And the conversation effectively ended, at least for a while.

---

As much as Eddie was trying to avoid other superheroes or people who might want to tear them apart, neither he nor Venom were going to say no to Cassie’s birthday party.

We’re going to get cornered here you idiot, Venom was hissing into Eddie’s brain.

“Yeah but it’s Cassie you asshole. You really gonna say no to her?”

…no…

“So we’re sucking it up and finally doing this,” Eddie said, knocking on the door to Scott’s place. They were immediately greeted by their grinning friend.

“Hey, you made it! Cool cool, c’mon in!”

And it was normal, for a bit. Scott’s ex and her new boyfriend reminded Eddie of Anne and Dan a bit, but they didn’t pry about anything – either because they didn’t know or didn’t care. Eddie didn’t know which it was but was grateful either way.

He tried to distract himself with cake (lots of cake, chocolate cake, the best kind of cake, especially if you asked Vee), but was more than well aware of a man and two women watching with mixed looks of curiosity and anxiety from another corner of the room. They were distracted enough by Cassie too, but as the party began to wind down, guests left, and Cassie’s mom took her home, Eddie was left with Scott and the staring trio.

“Well,” Eddie said, directed mostly to Scott, “this was great, thanks for the invite, I’ll just get out of your hair now—“

“Actually, we’ve been waiting to talk to you,” the younger of the two women said, and Eddie groaned internally. He could feel Venom stirring beneath his skin, curious but also ready to protect them if needed.

“Uh, Eddie, that’s my girlfriend Hope, and her parents Hank and Janet,” Scott interjected, seeming as nervous as Eddie felt. “Guys, this is Eddie.”

“Brock, yeah,” Hank said. “Nice work taking down Drake. I knew there was something fishy going on with him but we were a bit distracted during that whole fiasco of yours.”

“Uh, thanks?” Eddie was fairly certain that was not the correct response, but it got a chuckle out of Janet, so that was fine, he supposed.

“But there is the issue of you having been – fused, or bonded, or whatever, with one of those alien symbiotes Drake was experimenting on,” Hope stated, and next to her Scott bit his lip. “The reports you gave after the incident state that you lost it, or it burned in the explosion, but there have been some reports of a large dark figure throughout the city since then – one that occasionally eats its targets. And then Scott told us about you starting to babysit for Cassie, and at the same time he started showing reluctance over tracking down the giant maneating creature. So, anything to add, Mr. Brock?”

“Hope I told you to go easy on him,” Scott muttered as Eddie blinked, and Janet rolled her eyes.

“She takes after her dad,” she said, and Hank looked affronted. But, still.

They know, Venom was hissing in his head, but their emotions were confused, unsure of if they should trust Scott’s friends, or if they should just eat them all.

Not really, Eddie thought back. From what she said, Scott never said anything specific, they all just put the pieces together on their own, and he’s trying to make everything better for us.

Hm. Cassie may like them, and Scott is okay, but still. Don’t know about what they want.

Yeah, well, let’s see, shall we? Out loud, he asked, “What if what I said isn’t true?”

“Well, legally speaking, you’d fall under the Sokovia Accords, like my daughter and this idiot here,” Hank said. Eddie was a bit offended on Scott’s behalf at the idiot comment. “If that alien is still bonded to you, you’d count as an enhanced individual, and if you were going out fighting crime and whatnot on your own, you’d be in direct violation of the Accords.”

“That’s fair. The Accords were put into place with the intention of protecting the general public, even if the first draft was rushed and had lots of loopholes that could be exploited. The current version is more sound and willing to work with the individuals who work under it. But it also requires that anyone who signs the Accords be drafted as an official Avengers member, which, y’know, some people might want to help, but they might not want to be in the spotlight like that, and just stick to what they’re doing.” This, Eddie could do. He was a reporter, after all; he’d covered the story of the original Accords, and the little ‘civil war’ that had followed it. He’d read the documents when they first came out, even if he’d had to have Anne explain the finer points and legalese to him back then. And then with Venom, he’d read the newest draft.

It wasn’t a bad thing, certainly, but they had agreed that they didn’t want to be part of the Avengers. They weren’t cut out for big-time heroics like that, and such a spotlight would make their occasional diet of humans even harder to hide, or justify.

But. Scott had proven he was willing to overlook that stuff after Eddie and Vee had explained that it was an essential part of their diet, their survival. And these people were still involved with ironing out the Accords, and could probably put in a good word on their behalf if they were nice and cooperated. But that was a risk they weren’t sure they were willing to take, at least not yet.

Janet interrupted their thoughts. “That’s why we’re working with Tony and the Accords Panel to add more amendments for people like that. We are also trying to include people who maybe go a bit too far with their vigilantism, who have killed to protect others. Right now the Accords Panel doesn’t think those types of people should be allowed unless they change completely, stop killing altogether, but even the original Avengers members had killed – look at the Black Widow and Hawkeye, for example. They both had impressive kill counts working for SHIELD, and the Widow, at least, has continued to use lethal force since joining the Avengers.”

“She’s an outlier though, Jan, we talked about that,” Hank cut in. “She’s a Russian assassin-“

“What does her being Russian have to do with anything, Hank, don’t let old grudges cloud your judgment we’ve talked about this-“

“Anyway,” Hope said, rolling her eyes at her parents, “The earlier you join, the more … uh, forgiving the Accords Panel will be about any … less than savory things you may or may not have done while trying to protect the planet, the town, your loved ones, or just yourself.”

“That’s still assuming I have the alien, though,” Eddie pointed out, trying not to laugh. Venom was snickering in the back of his mind, swirling around his body, and very much enjoying this game of cat and mouse.

Scott was looking between everyone with nervous eyes. Hank was just staring at Eddie with a kind of blank expression of disbelief; Janet was smiling conspiratorially; and Hope rolled her eyes with a huff. “Yeah, of course.”

“When you assume you make an ass out of you and me,” Scott blurted, and that, at least, earned a chuckle from Hank.

“Scott,” Hope started, but Eddie cut her off.

“Well, look, I’d love to continue this chat, but I actually have stuff to do for my job, so…”

“Yeah, man, let me show you out,” Scott said, clapping Eddie on the back and steering him toward the door. “Sorry about them,” he said in a lower, quieter tone. “I didn’t say anything but they can put two and two together and they can also be super persistent.”

“It’s fine,” Eddie said, even though it didn’t really feel fine. “It was probably going to happen sooner or later anyway. Talk to you later, man.” And Eddie and Venom made their escape.

--

It was another few weeks until Eddie and Venom saw Hope van Dyne again. They hadn’t forgotten about the conversation with her and her family, per say, just… been sufficiently distracted to let it fall to the wayside.

But having Scott walk in with Hope at the end of a day of babysitting Cassie was, well. Unexpected, to say the least. Venom, who had been providing helpful commentary to Cassie as she colored and was wearing no less than 3 flower crowns, made an attempt to duck back into Eddie before being spotted, but it was too little too late.

Hope, for her part, just leveled an unimpressed and expectant stare at Eddie, who just grinned sheepishly back. Scott, bless his innocent self, took one look at both of them and then ignored them in favor of flopping onto the floor next to Cassie and admiring her drawings. Cassie just tossed one of the dropped flower crowns at Eddie and giggled when it landed on his shoulder.

“We, uh, I… can explain?” Eddie said. Scott just shook his head.

“No you can’t.”

“Yeah no I probably can’t.”

“To be fair, I knew from the minute Scott started slipping up that something was amiss,” Hope said, “but you acting a bit weird at Cassie’s party was what really gave it away.”

“So, uh, are you gonna arrest us or something, then? Cuz like, you probably… don’t wanna do that.”

“No, you’re fine,” Hope said. “Although you probably don’t believe that, and I can understand why. But, look, if Scott trusts you, I’m willing to give you a chance.”

Everyone else blinked. “Really?” Scott asked, lighting up like a Christmas tree. “Aw, Hope! You’re the best!”

“And you’re adorable, Scott. Anyway,” Hope continued, turning back to face Eddie, “you and your alien friend or whatever should very much consider reading and signing these.” And with a flash, a huge stack of papers materialized – no, grew – in front of them.

“The freaking Accords?” Eddie snorted. “Dude, I have read them-“

“I’m aware, it’s a legal thing, your ex is a lawyer so I’m sure you understand.”

Eddie made a disgruntled sound. “We really don’t want to be an Avenger,” he said finally.

“Aw, but you guys are a hero!” Cassie piped up, finally tuning back in to the adult conversation. Eddie flashed her a grateful smile, and because they adore Cassie, Venom poked a small head out from Eddie’s shoulder to give her a toothy grin.

Scott gave them an encouraging thumbs up from next to Cassie, and even Hope looked – bemused, perhaps, at all of this. But, still. “We have, uh. Y’know.”

“Eaten people? Yeah, you’re the new local cryptid,” Hope said. “But as has been said, plenty of the Avengers have killed for one reason or another. Whatever, people will deal with it. Also, if you do sign, it’s not like you’re going to be required to move back to NYC or anything – look at Scott and myself, we’re still here.”

“Yeah but they probably will make him go out for an orientation or initiation or whatever they called it,” Scott piped up.

Eddie, Vee said into Eddie’s brain, we know we are reluctant, but also… we should give it a try. We could be better than ever! And we can meet many other superheroes too, get more friends. Eat them if they try to hurt us.

Eddie sighed. “We’ll think about it and get back to you, okay? That’s all I can promise right now.”

---

It wasn’t even a week before Eddie was giving Hope and Scott their signed copy of the Accords.

[stopandimagineloveforever]

Few TV shows have arrived as confidently as Schitt’s Creek did when it premiered four years ago; after all, the pilot took under two minutes to introduce its four main characters in instantly striking ways. We open in a palatial estate, where members of the filthy rich Rose family are reacting to news they’ve been defrauded by their business manager and left with nothing. Well, except the titular town, which Rose patriarch Johnny bought for his son as a joke birthday present years before. Immediately, there’s Moira (standout Catherina O’Hara), wailing to her husband about how she’s been “stripped of every morsel of pleasure I earned in this life.” In reply, her husband Johnny (Eugene Levy) complains about the shady business manager that landed his family in this mess. Nearby, their daughter Alexis (Annie Murphy) alights from a stately staircase while desperately trying to get the boyfriend she’s on the phone with to step out of the club he’s in and listen to her problems. And by the door, her brother David boldly berates a government official, calling him a “sick person” that “wants to get paid to destroy another person’s life.”

Dan Levy, who plays David and co-created the show alongside his father and co-star Eugene, is far less confrontational than his character, but no less animated. When I meet him in January for a late lunch at a sparsely populated restaurant in Rockefeller Center, the 35-year-old is upbeat and personable, despite the packed schedule he’d been navigating for the previous few days while doing press for the show’s fifth season.

The entire process is somewhat new to the actor, since Schitt’s Creek kept a relatively low profile in its earlier seasons. But as the show’s popularity has grown — with critics now hailing it as “the funniest show on TV right now,” a “gem of a sitcom,” and an “amiable and deliriously funny series” — so has Levy’s. After serving as the official showrunner for four seasons, he’s become a celebrity in his own right. Yet in midtown, as he makes his way through a grilled chicken caesar salad and a Diet Coke, Levy doesn’t appear to exhibit any of those expected pretenses; he’s quite laid-back and surprisingly gregarious, eager to talk about the little show he made which blossomed into something much bigger than he could have ever imagined.

Before Schitt’s Creek, Levy says he spent some time “figuring it out.” Growing up as the son of a comedy legend, it was nearly a given that he would do theater in high school. But when he graduated and actually tried to pursue acting as a career, Levy was held back by the nervousness he routinely felt at auditions. “As you can imagine, that was quite awkward for me as an actor,” he jokes. Instead, he landed at MTV Canada, where he cut his teeth recapping The Hills on the popular The After Show. That experience, he says, was where the idea for Schitt’s Creek was planted. “I was fascinated by these people who were raised around so much wealth,” he tells me. “And I wanted to know what it would be like if someone like that were to lose everything.”

He eventually took that inkling of an idea to his dad, and together, they fleshed it out into the show it is today. In the earliest stages, Levy recalls looking at “sexy and stylish” series like Sex and the City for inspiration, which ultimately lead to his decision to build each character around a distinct style that mirrors their personality type. Artsy David would be into neutral tones and architectural Rick Owens; business-minded Johnny would always wear classic tailored suits; histrionic former soap star Moira would have a flair for the dramatic silhouettes of McQueen; and boho-chic Alexis would be ready to jet off to Coachella at a moment’s notice.

To this day, Dan still takes the lead on much of the show’s wardrobe. It’s one of the most rewarding parts of his job, he tells me, and it’s a good excuse to indulge his shameless shopping addiction. He sources most of the garments seen on the show online, perusing for new duds on designer resale apps like The RealReal and Grailed, but it’s clear that his sartorial eye is just as keen in person. Upon arriving to the restaurant, the first thing Dan does is compliment my sunglasses, which were sitting on the corner of the table. “Congratulations on those boots,” he told me as we left, pointing down at my footwear. The only apparent downside to his side gig as a personal shopper is that it can be difficult to stop himself from getting too out of control. “I just keep buying for future seasons,” he jokes. “If the show ends, I’m just going to have all these random Alexander McQueen pieces in my room! I’ll have to call up some of my friends and ask if they want to come buy some.”

Hopefully, we’ll never reach that point — at least not for a while, now that the show is finally getting the respect it deserves. Days before our lunch, Levy and his fellow cast members had experienced their first A-List red carpet event when they attended the Critics’ Choice Awards, where they were nominated for Best Comedy Series. “It’s so crazy to think that this little show was there amongst all these real celebrities,” he says, emphasizing the word real in a way that lets you know he still doesn’t understand just how famous he actually is — or does a good job pretending not to, at least. The performer says he was most excited to meet Jodie Comer, but in retrospect, he wonders if he maybe went overboard when he approached the Killing Eve actress to “fan out” and enthusiastically tell her how much he loved her.

Schitt’s Creek didn’t win that night. But it’s not difficult to imagine the show becoming a serious awards contender in the future, especially now that it’s established a real audience. Levy and the entire team are rooting particularly hard for Catherine O’Hara, whose indelible, no-holds-barred performance as Moira has rightfully inspired a few internet campaigns to get The Television Academy’s attention.

Yet it’s probably Levy himself who has galvanized the most fervent response from audiences. His character is one of the only pansexual men on TV today, and in the show’s currently-airing fifth season, his same-sex relationship with newly-out Patrick (Noah Reid) is one of the biggest ongoing plot points. As a gay man, he says it was always important to him to bring positive queer representation to his show — which is ironically why he had David sleep with a woman (sardonic motel owner Stevie) before he ever got with a man. “I did want to play with people’s expectations a bit,” he admits. “David is flamboyant and I knew people would assume he was gay, so I wanted to subvert that and show that you can’t always judge a book by its cover.”

Nevertheless, Levy is now fully invested in exploring the much-beloved relationship between David and Patrick, which he’s made a deliberate effort to ensure is not met with any homophobia in the titular small town. It’s what he would’ve done anyway, but it doesn’t hurt that he’s seen firsthand just how much their relationship means to the fans at home watching. When I ask about the response he’s received from the queer community, it’s the first time during our meal that he seems to get really emotional. “I got a letter recently that made me cry,” he begins, tearing up ever so slightly. “This woman wrote to me and told me that her son had just come out. She didn’t have a problem with it, but she was scared about what other people would think. She told me that my show made her feel a little more comfortable.”

It’s surprising how novel it seems to create a show where homophobia is just... not allowed to exist, but it’s comforting to see how normal it actually looks in practice. Just people being themselves without judgment: It’s all part of this world that Dan Levy was inspired to create after watching too many reruns of The Hills. Back then, he set out to create a show that uncovered what would happen when the self-obsessed wealthy wake up to find themselves penniless. If the series’ first five seasons have offered us any sort of answer, it’s that they will learn and grow, facing truths about themselves and their privilege that will only benefit them in the long run. They will form stronger bonds with themselves and with each other. Hell, they might even find true life-fulfilling happiness.

That is, as long as they find their way to Schitt’s Creek.

Schitt’s Creek airs Wednesdays at 10:00pm on Pop.

[theinsanecrayonbox]

the great FOP review mega dump

ok so apparently the rest of s10 was aired at the end of June through July of this year. now granted, i do not get NickToons and used a friend’s DVR to record it, so there’s a margin for error, but i don’t recall any of these episodes ever getting recorded. i could be wrong, my memory sucks, BUT TVGuide is stupid and has a habit of putting the wrong names/numbers on things and if the guide doesn’t list the episode as new because half of it already aired, then it wouldn’t get recorded. so again, huge margin for error.

basically, i hadn’t posted these yet because i didn’t realize they’d aired; i was trying to avoid spoiling anything for people. Nick sucks at their programming schedule. these first viewing reviews are nearly a year old in some cases, since it was about a year ago that i was given links to watch some of these online after they’d aired in other countries. so yeah, probably a little dated, might not hold up, but here they are so we can be done with this.

Which is Wish:

 Chloe is a vegetarian??? Has this been said before??

 I feel like everything in the garage there was in the attic when Dad made Timmy clean that out before…not that that isn’t plausible, since that’d be one way to “clean” the attic lol. Just thought it was a neat commentary.

 But yes Chloe, unleash your organizational skills. Color coded labels are awesome! Cleaning sucks, but labels lol

 And yes, switching bodies always works so well doesn’t it Timmy…but heehee he called Chloe pretty XD though in fairness…doesn’t this mean Chloe is still eating the meat, because Tim’s in her body…or do they just *look* like one another? See, that’s the gray area…

 Ok I do not like all these moments of Dad seeing Cosmo and Wanda; they’re glossed over yes, but still. That should break Da Rules though, because they’ve been revealed (not to mention Crocker knows about them a million times over I know). it just seems like a cheap gag that they don’t need, and it’s annoying.

 “Chlimmy Turnermicheal” lol, I need to draw a fusion of my Opals now XD;;;

 Ok yes, they’ve body swapped, not glamoured, so Chloe *did* eat the meat after all, thank you for explaining that

 Seriously, it’s Cosmo loosing the wands (for the umpteenth time) that is going to cause the problems here -.-

 Yay more Chloe parents! They aren’t 1 or 2 offs! Though…why were they absent up until this point? Did they decide to take a sabbatical from work after the booby incident? That’d be nice

 OMR Danny, Vlad (wait nasty Dan? Hu oh well), and Dudley puppets. That is too cute for words!!

 And a Little Shop joke. Eeeeeeee!!! I know they’ve done man-eating plants before, but still!

 Chloe’s dad faints at failure? Hm, that could be useful.

 Tim admitting he’d miss Chloe is sweet, especially since it wasn’t with any mention of loosing his fairies

 Hahahaha dressing up as each other/themselves, that’s great. Cosmo’s head blowing up is getting old though.

 All in all I give this episode a huge A+. It is a cliché trope of a plot, but I feel it was executed really really well!! Nice balance of magical aspects with non-magical ones I thought, and gave development to both kids and their families.

Fairy Con:

 Ok first of all, I thought Fairy conventions were held every thousand years or so, and was actually just for the fairies. Granted, this “Fairy con” could be a different event OR they changed the event after Timmy’s bathroom one, since that could’ve been the first time a godchild was involved? Also, Timmy is you go “every year” that shows that this is at least 2 years after you got your fairies (because you had Cosmo Con, then assume one after that, then at minimum this one), so why are you still 10?????? (and don’t go saying “the time stopping wish in secret wish” because uhg)

 Crocker in the fridge….ok…but adding in Crocker to crash the Con…yeah this is a complete plot reusing of Cosmo Con, just updating it a bit

 Look Girlfriend the cat isn’t dead!!

 If you’ve had their hair samples for that long why haven’t you cloned them before?? But “off brand cloning machine” is sorta funny. Also, Kenny G? that a Spongebob shout out or not?

 Ok if it merged the cat DNA with the fairy why didn’t it merge the fairy DNA together too? Also, missed your mark to have a real “fairy cat” show up (though no Sparky so we don’t need it anymore I guess)

 Oh but Chloe’s enthusiasm over her first con, I am so happy at that ^^ I just had my first comic con, and I was spazzing like that too when I wasn’t freaking out over being ditched and lost.

 Ok that is yet ANOTHER unique birthday for Timmy. He’s up to what, 5 now since the series started? (Boys in the Band, Birthday Bashed, Birthday Battle, the one mentioned in Birthday Battle about the dinosaurs) the kid is at least 14 now, he has to be!

 I like all the backgrounders. Some look super squashed, but still neat.

 Tooth fairy returns! Yay! We had mentions of Cupid and Mother Nature before, so it’s nice to see the magical celebrities are still around and not forgotten.

 Ahhh! The return of the Crocker Pot which captures fairies!! Ok I am giving this writing team an A- on doing their lore homework because they are getting so many things right (though the Fairy Con being thrown off is still deducting points sorry)

 There was a blonde fairy that looked like Samantha in the background O.o

 “Chloe Carmichael, any normal person would give up right now. But you are NOT normal!” - omr Chloe I love you and your “never quit” song was good and humorous, I still love you

 Timmy how can you not know what Crocker is up to? He’s always up to the same exact thing. If he’s in Fairy World, I’m fairly sure there is a 1000% chance he’s there to capture fairies. Geeze.

 OMR Princess Morebucks was in the seats at Cosmo’s panel, I’m not joking.

 All in all, it wasn’t a giant impacting story, but it was a good one, even though it was a total reusing of a plot. I feel like the writing team did their homework pretty decently (for the most part). Plus, the magic of cons ^^

The Hungry Games:

 This is the B-Story to Fairy Con…interesting choice…more fangirl!Chloe…

 I love her “Katniss hair”, heck I just love seeing alternate hair on her

 Heh “Ketchup Everdream”, wow, ok, sure

 That might be the wrong movie, but it sounds interesting. What movie was that Cosmo?

 Aw Chloe lost…but yay call back to screaming in her closet

 Lol Crocker is once again, king of dystopian world. That is perfect. This is all perfect.  Maybe it’s because I liked the Hunger Games movie that I can thoroughly enjoy this parody, idk. But this is great. I am loving this episode.

 And cue the pointless Dad part…wait Mr Bickles?? Where have you been?? Why are you here???

 I like the blonde/pink haired backgrounder

 I really loved this episode! It was so nice how Timmy did this for Chloe and stuck with it even when it was bad for him, then she turns around and does something nice for him at the end. It let Chloe fly her freaky fangirl flag on so many levels. Like I said, I liked Hunger Games, so this was a great parody that was loads of fun. I really really enjoyed all of it.

 As a whole episode, these two really show us what a geeky girl Chloe is I think. She’s not just the over achieving little Ms Perfect she was at first, she’s got her weird hobbies and obsessions too. And the fact that she was so into Fair Bears AND dystopian doomy future really says a lot about her, and really speaks to me on many levels. It’s just solidified my love of Chloe even more.

Dimmsdale Daze:

 And we start off with jokes about barfing…well it is a roller coaster so I can let it slide…just don’t spiral out of control with them…

 Heehee “vines” joke, that’s great. Because it highlights their age AND that they are more naturalist

 Oooo Connie said “shyster”, that’s pretty borderline…

 Chaining yourself to the tree in town…wouldn’t that be the same tree that Tootie did the same thing to in the first live action movie? I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing…

 Did Chloe’s middle name change? O.o but lol to the “when you’re a parent you can make the decisions” because I head canon them meddling after Chloe’s divorce, but I know that line is the plot fodder, so I’ll just push the head canons away for now

 Lookit that adult!Chloe though!! I’m not that far off the mark with my design (plus you know, there are several older!Timmy designs and none are more true than the other, so my older!Chloe being short and bustier is still plausible). And hey lookit! Cameo of the adult!Timmy from Big Problem AND confirmation that if one of the godkids breaks Da Rules they both loose the fairies TOGETHER

 Neither Clark nor Connie really look too much like Chloe as children (ok Connie *does* but when you consider they made child Dad look exactly like Timmy before, it’s not quite enough)…just another tick in my adopted column, just saying…

 Why did that child in the bounce house have lipstick O.o

 Chloe’s earring is like, in the wrong place and it’s bothering me…

 “But I have the mind if a child” “It’s true, he’s been tested” – I…wow, just…yes?

 And of course Connie and Clark get assigned Cosmo and Wanda, I don’t know why I didn’t see that coming honestly ^^;;

 You know, even though this is sort of a rehash of Big Problem and The Switch Glitch I thoroughly enjoyed this one! Single mom!Chloe was great, it feeds my future headcanons. It proved that Tim and Chloe do share the negative effects of the fairies. And it was just a really good Chloe episode that Timmy was just a supporting character in. I really did like it. A+

 As a whole, I think both parts (this is meant to be paired with Spring Breakup) work nicely together. It’s a lot of Chloe and her family, so if you want some serious Carmichael development, do for this set most definitely.

Chip off the Old Crock:

 Ok before getting into this one, I just gotta state that since I read the description for it, I’ve been ITCHING to see this. How does Crocker have a nephew if he has no siblings? (*current thoughts: i’ve since this review come up with a plausible scenario*) What would this child be like? How could I use him for Superverse conveniently?? And then I saw screencaps and saw that he was a mini Crocker and got disappointed…

 But now we are to watch so let us see how that unfolds…

 What’s with that redheaded backgrounder?? He looks like a Lebowitz!! *files that away for layer usage*

 Still laughing that he’s named Kevin since that is a “name of evil” in our games and what not ever since my brother used it as a placeholder name for a badguy in a storyline; ever since then “Kevin” had been the badguys who are sorta pointless lol

 But still…”study abroad” um…you still could’ve used that since Crocker obviously has family in Canada; studying in California would then be considered “abroad” if he was Canadian. And that way, he wouldn’t have to be his literal nephew, but his 2nd cousin, but they just call each other uncle/nephew because it’s easier. That might sound confusing, but at least it makes more sense then just randomly implying he has siblings when he never has. I’m gonna headcanon this from now on, and no one can convince me otherwise. (*current thoughts: again, i’ve figured it out since writing this; i’ve left the original thoughts though to prove my though process from point A to point B*) Plus you miss out on Canada jokes this way…

 Awww Kevin, I’m starting to love you…that’s weird…

 Everyone pick a partner-no one pick Kevin, classic. However…redhead boy had 2 partners, why didn’t Crocker notice and stop that? There’s no reason why Chloe and Tim needed to pair up with him aside from plot relevance…

 Ah sweet Chloe, standing up for the misunderstood and outcast, trying to find the good in them and make others see it too. I love you sweetheart ^^ go make friends with Francis now please

 Why isn’t Dolores fawning over Kevin? You’d think she wouldn’t let her *grandson* out of her sight, considering the coddling we’ve seen her give Denzel at times. Unless she’s busy with her *other child* I guess…but in that case why isn’t she belittling Denzel for not being like *his sibling* and having kids and not living in her basement? I’d love to see Denzel look like a looser compared to this *sibling* he suddenly has, and it suits the family dynamic as we know it. Or perhaps the *sibling* is more of a looser, but Dolores still sings their praises because they did move out and have a kid, unlike Denzel who has a steady job and whatnot because *sibling* is a total bum. I mean, I get that it would only slow down the storyline, but it just feels out of character, plus the sudden introduction of a *sibling* just is wrong too…I should stop analyzing the Crocker family and just go back to the actual plot

 Kevin wants to be a dentist??? O.o are you related to Dr Bender??? That…would explain nothing honestly, idk why I went there

 “Sorry I’m too busy being a loner” haha that’s a good one

 Hey callback to Crocker wearing ladies clothes. Nice.

 “It’s a blueprint so shouldn’t it be blue?” hahaha that was funny

 Chloe how did you get to the top of the rock wall without a rope?? Did you boulder your way yup there?? And Tim! You should never rock climb without a belier(sp?) geeze, rock climbing 101 there dude

 And toilet joke…but I will let it slide because I am actually enjoying Kevin

 “Unleash your inner looser” omr yes best line

 Ah the build up to the betrayal “aw you guys actually like me” “well yeah you’re not evil” *does the evil thing* “we hate you now because you are evil after all”

 Unsuspecting Van is back whoot!

 Ninja!Chloe and Tim with a light saber; nice, but what a missed opportunity…also Chloe has a ninja suit…she really is replacing Tootie isn’t she…

 And Kevin saves the day by wishing none of this ever happened…just like Chester did in Fairy Idol hm…

 But at the end of it, I’m actually very surprised how much I liked this despite all its flaws. It’s riddled with clichés and huge plot holes/continuity errors, but I genuinely liked Kevin (and whole heartedly look forward to writing him into Superverse…also would it be too weird if he was Kyler’s father? I think it’d be weird…). I think it’s a nice B-story to Cat and Mouse and together they make a pretty good episode.

Space Ca-Dad:

 Off topic a moment here; rewatching the theme and it just dawned on me…maybe there’s a “fairy shortage” because no one’s enforcing the rules over fairies being revealed/discovered. I mean, if everyone Timmy knows knows about his fairies and yet he keeps them, then other kids must be doing that too you know. Just saying Jorgen, you caused this problem yourself man…and honestly, why not outsource the fairy jobs then to other magical creatures, since Fairy Idol proved any magical creature can be converted to a fairy godparent. It’d be a great way to bring Norm back if you stop and think about it, or a way to get the Pixies back in there too. I’m just saying, the “fairy shortage” story is pretty weak…still think Jorgen just did this to them because they’re good for each other…

 Ok back to the episode itself

 Yay Chloe is still a Squirrely Scout, good for continuity! And you love food puns? i love you more Chloe, you so are a Catman related heroine aren’t you ^^;

 Did he say “Mrs Lipshitz” or “Mrs Libwitz”? it was really hard to tell, so idk if that’s a Rugrats shout out or someone I have to add to my  Lebowitz family tree (cause slurred sound…and the witch/mental thing does suit the family…)

 Dad you had the rank of “flying squirrel” why is this confusing??

 Ok there are “Pickles” living on the street, I’m going with Lipshitz. So many Rurgrats shout outs.

 Whinny kid, Kid with issues (aren’t you Kevin?), and Stuart…so we are going with the latest (and suckier) Squirrel Scout troop line up. Kay.

 Chloe as a jr. astronaut though and knowing how to fly space ships ^^

 Heehee “Space Jam” how many more thinly veiled references can we have XD;;

 (maybe Squirrely Kevin is Kyler’s father…that’s doable…)

 Ah yes, Dad throwing the fairies out just when the kid/s need them. Yup, never seen that plot device used before nope. And how can rocket fuel destroy magical wands? They’re fairy magic, why are they so easy to ruin??

 How did you find a planetoid when you were heading towards the sun??? I don’t…right, why put logic into things, my bad

 The Glorg. Florgatron-5. Hm…*files that way for layer usage* Bakersfield???

 I loved all the aliens at the restaurant though.

 Over all, this episode was…meh. I didn’t dislike it, but it was a very pointless Dad episode. Seriously, you could’ve had them go to the Planet of the Dads and do pretty much the same thing, but at least keep that storyline going (since I think it’s the longest running one now). I’m unimpressed, but I’m not disappointed. So lets see if the B-story can save the episode as a whole.

Summer Bummer:

 “The looks of psychotic anticipation” lol, well we’re starting off with some good

 Also it’s summer vacation yet again. Mk…this makes it at least the 4th summer vacation Tim’s had, what with School’s Out, Shelf Life, and Microphony being the others I can easily site off the top of my head. So again, these children should be like 14-16 now

 It’s the return of Dad in short-shorts. Oh man, run and hide now.

 Chloe getting a summer internship/scientific program is very her. Must always be learn…wait did she say the corner of a basement?? O.o that’s concerning child…

 Oh hey that pink clad teacher is from s1 I think. Wasn’t she in Timvisible at the water cooler?? That is a very nice and wow throwback guys. Major points to you.

 Chloe is 10 and a half???? So she actually IS a year younger than Timmy, since he was already 10 when he had his birthday (and we ignore the previous like 5 birthdays he’s had >>) and they share a birthday…but wait, your birthday is in March…summer vacation starts in June/July, that isn’t 6 months later…ok so on the one hand, your math is all wrong, but on the other my headcanon that Chloe is a year younger seems to be proven fact. I don’t know what to do with this information!!

 Oh this is the sleep wishing episode I heard about! Wow took a while for the plot to show up…but you know, even though this has been used before, I feel like this is being used in a different context and for a different character, so I’m allowing the reuse of the plot idea. Let’s see how twisted up Chloe’s subconscious is…

 “Gender neutral Jesse” is sorta weird…I like the fact that Chloe did play with baby dolls though…

 Timmy you can’t unwish Chloe’s wish! We’ve been over this-we had a whole episode dedicated to it!! URG!! Did they just throw that out because it’s easier for them to just fix each other’s mistakes that way? I mean, if this was the only time, I could buy that since she didn’t *consciously* make this wish, it could be undone by Tim, but the other times they’ve pulled this she’s been in her full faculties. So uhg! You can’t even keep your own continuity you establish in the same season >> (but…you guys have been doing better than expected, so…it’s not *as* negative points as I’d usually give…or maybe it is but you’ve just racked up enough positive ones to be at the standard by now I guess)

 Hey Dr Rip Studwell, long time no see XD and…you made a manscaping joke…wow, I…wow

 And a poop joke…but you have a pirate ship…but still…

 “Took one to the crow’s nest” is that a crotch shot joke? Wow this episode is just…wow

 Omr the mini shoulder Chloes are adorable! I love valley girl!Chloe and german science!Chloe. Didn’t like the second poop joke in a minute, especially since Dad really *shouldn’t* have heard science!Chloe say that…

 She wished the doll big again…I think Chloe’s repressed feelings are about not wanting to grow up

 And look Da Rules FINALLY decide to kick…oh no, Chloe wished it to be unwishable...yeah, because that’s the only way to stop Tim from fixing it >> and yet at the same time, he did wish the monster to stay until he stopped lying about who set Chompy free, so…formula…

 “There’s free ice cream all over the street! It’s like delicious roadkill!” ok that is the best line ever

 Wait, you’re wishing yourself into Chloe’s mind?? Because that worked so well when you went into your own…and why does it remind me of Mabel’s dreamworld/mind? I expected less pink, more purple honestly. Preschool!Chloe is so adorable!! Totally called the plot though, not that it’s hard.

 Cosmo confirmed as queer, because even when he thought Wanda was “Weird Dude” he still had a crush on him. Wow, I am floored they did that, good for you

 And we end it by promoting cannibalism? Oh wait no; we scratch the 4th wall instead. Ahha. Yeah. You totally missed the opportunity to have “Kids just being Kids” playing somewhere-possibly remixed-because I feel the message suited Chloe’s mentality too right now.

 Over all, I’m glad it was Chloe centric but…I feel like this could’be been done in half the time maybe? They ignore their own continuity, but they do tackle real stuff in a minimal magical way. I guess like the A-story, I’m unimpressed but not disappointed. I feel like both of these should not have been paired together because as a whole the entire episode is lacking; they both needed a stronger story to counter balance them. It’s a good watch once through, but I doubt it’s an episode you’ll want to rewatch.

Dimmsdale’s Got Tallent:

 Ok…I feel like this plot has been used before…and not necessarily thinking Fairy Idol either, but I just can’t place which episode I’m thin king of…

 TOOTIE!!!! THEY DIDN’T SHIP YOU OFF TO BOARDING SCHOOL OR WHATEVER!! OMR!!! Sadly you were just a backgrounder cameo, but still…now I just need to find Francis then my main favs will have all appeared to be not dead (*spoiler: Francis does not appear anywhere*)

 More Bickles…huh…

 Mom’s stage name is “Madame Sasha”…is that a hint that her first name is Sasha?? Most times when you make up “magic names” they’re either your real name in between “the” and “magnificent” or they’re some super exotic/fake/fantastical sounding thing like how Dad was “Dadracadabra”

 And more about Chloe’s one-woman show. That’s so neat that this is something that they’re developing for her, instead of using as a toss away one shot gag.

 Kevin!! Dressed as a dummy for a comedy act lol. It’s an old and over used plot idea, but I’ll run with it. I like it. Cause Crocker now has 24 hour access to a child, he of course has to think of other ways to use it. “I’m telling my mom you made me do this” because that is Denzel’s sister so it is a legitimate threat…though you’d think Dolores would object to this too…why have we not had any interaction of Kevin with his grandmother yet??? I’d love to see Denzel get jealous over the attention his mother is giving Kevin that he never received

 Haha Dad stealing Chloe’s idea, and still breaking the gender norms, nice. Where did Bickles get the coconut bikini top and grass skirt though?

 Oh baaaaaad lesson to be teaching kids there guys. If the authority figure won’t give you want you want, you shouldn’t do them favors to try to bribe them into giving it to. Especially in the entertainment industry. That’s how bad situations happen….

 Um those remote control tap shoes shouldn’t work because they would be helping Tim to win a competition, which is against Da Rules…not that Da Rules seem to matter anymore…

 Ok Mom, you claimed to be a “Pet Psycho” yet you’re using only wild/non-pet animals. I think that’s probably the easiest way to point out that you’re doing this wrong

 “I love me some snake and mongoose” ok…lets go see if that’s a euphemism on google…hm, nope, just a drag racing movie. That’s nice…wasn’t Bickles a race car driver at some point??

 Doug Dimmadome returns! And “curious life partner”??? the Mayor and Chompy are a thing??? O.o???

 Good boy Kevin, stand up to Crocker ^^

 “That was a Dimma-dud” so simple and stupid, but probably the most fulfilling line thus far ^^;

 love Chloe’s gold gown

 ok I lied, “Dimma-dope” is now the most fulfilling line in this

 heehee Dudley Puppy and Crimson Chin balloons in the parade. So headcanoning that TUFF Puppy was a show on tv in FOPverse

 so this episode was….well just really pointless filler too. We got like minimal focus on any of our main characters. Have they forgotten how to write Timmy and Chloe?

 Together these two (this was paired with Knitt-witts)  were not a good match. Both were pointless filler with not a strong plot in either of them. Too many guest cameos, no character development. It was just barely enjoyable enough to not hate it, but just barely honestly. Weak episode all around.

Goldie Crocks and the three Fair Bears:

 Ok I’ve been looking forward to the return of the Fair Bears since the episode titles were released.

 Interesting to see the Squirrely Scout troop back again, still the same B-team line up including Chloe. Thought you already had that patch…but then again that could’ve been with the A-team troop lineup, so…the records were all destroyed when it was disbanded maybe?

 Thanks Tim, we all were asking that. But how does using Mom’s shampoo make your hair blonde? Luscious and even longer I could buy without complaint, but blonde??

 More over achieving Chloe lol (poor girl is gonna crash when she burns out). But wow, she fought King Neptuna…so why didn’t he remember her? Is Supergal now enemy to the merfolk??? Though that plays into the Merfolk vs Glamazons wouldn’t it…

 And now we turn into the clichéd camping storyline where Character A decides to go use non-wilderness to camp in luxury. But Tim, you used to like camping??? Also, still not seeing how the episode title plays into this plot yet…

 Cosmo has been right/made sense on more than one occasion though, why is it that surprising?

 Ok now we get the title…Crocker’s mother has a cabin in the woods? Buyable, sure. Crocker somehow brought the Fair Bears back into reality??? Uh…what now? Wait, they weren’t sent back to TVLand?? And Crocker knows all about their origin?? HOW does that not break Da Rules huh? Is it because he doesn’t know who wished them up, so it’s not against Da Rules?? Why wouldn’t they tell him that; wouldn’t that be a fair thing to do?? He’s in a blonde wig because they’re going to be Goldielocks at a theme park, yeah sure, ok I can buy that. But HOW did he get the bears in the first place???

 And Dad is blonde to be Goldielocks…wow…

 Chloe breaking the 4th wall a little there

 Gah even more middle names! Chloe how many do you even have????

 NO! YOU CAN’T UNDO THE OTHER’S WISHES! URGH!!! You established this rule right off the bat, yet you keep breaking it and they let you keep breaking it. Timmy wished for the camping stuff-Chloe should not be able to wish it away. Yes the plot is stalled, but really, what is the plot at this point??? If you’re only going to enforce the rules when it suits you, well, anarchy for all then please

 And you wished away the magic…yeah, that’s going to go super well

 “Mr Crocker’s unsightly twin sister” ok on the one hand, that works because of Kevin granted (even though she’s not a twin persay, but he has suddenly got a sister), but on the other…this is all saying that guys can’t have long hair and I don’t like that. I love guys with long hair. Between that comment on Crocker, and the comments earlier about Dad, why is long hair automatically girl now?

 Dolores dated Shaggy??? O.o i…I am very unnerved by that…wasn’t she already a full blown adult with a 10 year old child when Shaggy was a teenager roaming in the van with the Mystery Inc crew?? O.o

 Omr yes. Referencing the “original German version” as a darker one. Talking about basting and eating people. This turned dark super fast and I love that. why TrollLOL’s face is on the oven idk, but I’m rolling with it because I love this part.

 “I’ve already got 2 strikes from the school board” uh…yeah that’s the wrong side of dark I think…but it’s Crocker, it was probably the fork in Waxelplax’s fanny, and the flour incident or something fairly similar.

 Yes Tim, yell at Chloe that this is all her fault. We know it is, but pointing it out won’t help. But it totally is; you wished for no magic and you got into trouble-not surprising.

 HOW is it nearly midnight??? It was like, what, noon at the latest when this started?? You have not been out in the woods-in the daylight-for 12 hours-of daylight. Chloe hunny, you’re the smart one, why are you failing telling time??? I know its dark outside the house now, but it wasn’t in the scene before. Cosmo I think your clock is right. And how is “poof us out of here” bring you to a spot where it is, once again daylight; that seemed to suggest instant teleporting so you’re at the same time. Unless this next scene is a cut away to hours later BUT STILL! It should not be midnight.

 Oh Dad, yes, I’m sure no one cares about your troop anymore.

 “let’s send the Fair Bears back” uh you should have done that the first time and this whole mess would have been avoided. It’s like leaving the door to the comic book world open all over again.

 And yes, cause unnecessary harm to Crocker, why not. Not to mention all the innocent patrons at the theme park…

 Also why has no one mentioned Dimmsdale had a theme park before now?

 All in all, not a good episode. I was looking forward to the return of the Fair Bears, and it felt like they weren’t even in half of the episode. The rest was another boring camping storyline, which these two seem to do a lot of huh?

 Paired with Fancy Schmancy, as the production order says, I think the whole 30 min episode is completely weak and not great. This one was bad, the other was filler, so together they are just not meshing well at all.

[shortstrangestories-blog]

Life After Death

Part One

Do you know what it's like? To be living one day, living life normally and suddenly that stops and everything comes into question. How the life you once knew, the life you cultivated yourself, suddenly comes to an end.

There are so many stories and religions that have been developed to persuade you what happens when you die. Some say reincarnation, living as one animal and onto the next until you reach complete enlightenment, assuming you don’t mess up and aren't downgraded an animal. Some believe that the choices you make while living that determines whether you venture to heaven or hell. So many misleading results that have obviously never been proven, and how could they be?

Well, what I am here to tell you, is not what happens to everyone. I’m not sure if this will even reach anyone. But I am here to tell you a little story on what my personal experience was with death.

Chapter 1:

I was always different. Born different, and I knew it. Ever since I was a little girl, I have always the odd one out. I’m not saying I was bullied for it or anything, but my friends were different as well. I could have been the popular kid dating the best looking boy in school but I knew my place. In elementary school, I hung out with the kids who had nothing and my mom would always ask me “Why do you always bring the stray kids home?”, and it was true. It might have been the fact that I didn’t know any better, or the fact that I was just happy with them because I knew they would be true to me.

Like many other kids in my generation, I was an internet wiz. I would spend hours a day on there and by the time I hit grade 8, I was introduced to the beautiful and extraordinary world of Tumblr. If you don’t know Tumblr then you are reading the wrong story. Tumblr was this amazing community of outside kids much like me, and we all escaped to it.

Once that ended and I moved onto high school, nothing changed. I was still choosing to be the outside kid, except Tumblr introduced me to a world I wanted desperately to be apart of: The Scene/Emo kid community. Being from a small town there were maybe 2 of us in my high school alone; doesn’t help that I chose the smart school, which was full of as we called them “The Prep Kids”. Mid grade 9, I dyed my hair black and wore too much eyeliner. Got piercings all over my face, but was so outgoing in my little group of outcast friends that I absolutely adored. I was like this for much of high school.

Moving onto College, I had bleached the black hair back to a medium brown, and let it grow out. I won an art scholarship in high school, and chose to go to school to become a Graphic Designer. It was then that I met my first serious boyfriend, which is so stereotypical, I know. At this point my little group of friends had been split into two friends, one Korean girl in my class, and an old friend from high school. College had been a great experience for me. I lived on my own, got engaged to my first love, and almost graduated.

The man who I thought was the love of my life, had just been a fake prince in tin foil, and had cheated on me. That was the beginning of my bad luck and when I realized my world was crashing, and fast. My best friend Mia (the Korean girl I had previously mentioned) broke my heart and got a new best friend, and with me being the jealous type, could not deal with it.

Through my second year of college, I was a makeup artist at a local drugstore back home. I would often go back home on weekends to work and come back to school during the week. I worked my butt off throughout college, and have always been a hard worker with everything I did. In January of that year, I met the love of my life. With me working weekends at my job, I had never noticed who I worked with. One friday night, I was putting the sale tags up, just like I did every other Friday night, and I saw him. He worked as a merchandiser, and I was instantly head over heels for him. Me being the awkward young adult I was, I walked past the isle he was in and made eye contact with him and wanted so desperately to say hello, but all I could manage to get out was a “Merp”. He was medium height, about 5”7, muscular with a goatee, and with as my generation called it “Justin Bieber hair”. Before all this happened, he told me multiple times that it was love at first merp.

We dated for a total of just over two years, and I still believe we would have gotten married. Everything with him was perfect. You know those silly couples that fit so perfectly together, never fight, and are the literal definition of the perfect couple? That was him and I. We were a fairytale, and everyone knew it.

In July of that year, the Korean girl and I made up and became an unstoppable force. We were twisted sisters, often referred to as “Christina Yang and Meredith Grey” from Grey’s Anatomy. She was my soul sister, and she was my person.

The next year was a blur to me, everything was so perfect; my perfect boyfriend, my perfect best friend, my perfect full time job. At this point, I was working as a nurse, not at all what I had planned on doing 3 years ago when I started as a Graphic Design student. I had a brand new white Chevrolet Malibu, and had all my debt paid off from school, although I hadn’t graduated. Life was constantly throwing me curve balls, but I loved dealing with them even if they stressed me out. I was motivated and cultivating the life I loved to live.

Chapter 2:

As we all know, everything comes to an end. What goes up must come down. Why do all good things come to an end?

It started with my mom. She had never found her perfect person and always complained about being lonely, but I had never known how serious it was. One day, looking through an old cupboard that never had anything useful in it, I found a prescription for Prozac. I wanted to ask her about it but I knew how badly that would upset her since it was hidden in the first place. I waited for her to get home that day, but she never came home.

After a few hours, I had called the police. They were sending out a search party for her, and with her job being 45 minutes from home they had a lot of ground to cover.

Looking for comfort, I called Dan. His phone went instantly to voicemail, and I was already so frightened. I told the cops that I was going to check on my boyfriend to see if he had heard from her, and to stay there. I jumped in my car shaking, and drove as fast as I could to his house. I proceeded to call on my way there but still straight to voicemail.

I pulled up in front of his townhouse a few minutes later and noticed a car I had never seen before. Not thinking too much about it, I walked to his house and all the lights were off. Is he just not home from work yet? It was already 7pm, he should be home. I had a key to his house so I just walked in to check. All the lights were off still, but his bedroom light was on, which was barely visible from the front door. I called his name a few times, but no answer. I was still shaking.

As I approached his bedroom, I heard a woman's voice. Now I was shaking even harder. I peeked into his room and they were sitting on his bed talking about sports. I had no idea what to think and I was panicking with everything going on. By this point I was crying uncontrollably and all I kept thinking was that he was cheating; he is just like every other boy. I walked to his door and was shocked to see me. The girl was shocked as well. I froze staring at them both on his bed, shaking and crying. He was starting to walk towards me, and I was paralyzed. He touched my arm and was talking to me, but I couldn’t hear him. My vision got blurry. I wanted to vomit. She was still staring at me. He was shaking me to get me to snap out of it but all I could get out was “cheater”. I turned around in a daze and walked towards the front door, my heart was breaking inside of me. He was chasing after me but I still couldn’t hear him. I was like a zombie. I slammed his front door and ran to the car. I raced off, my tires screeching against the pavement. I called Mia, trying to get some advice on what the heck was happening in my life. My perfect life had been interrupted by a hiccup, and I didn’t know if what I just saw was what I thought it was, or just something I was misunderstanding. I didn’t care. I need to talk to Mia.

My heart finally snapped into pieces when she didn’t answer her phone. She was always eating, sleeping or in school, so it wasn’t a surprise when she didn’t answer. The comfort never came.

I got to the light around the corner from my house, which happened to be a busy highway. The light was red, and I was finally coming to my senses and able to focus. I looked in my rearview mirror and saw Dan’s car quickly approaching mine. The light turned green and I hit the gas pedal as hard as I could to get away from him. He was the last person I wanted to see at that moment. And then it hit me, literally.

Chapter 3:

What happened next, is something I don’t recall. It went blurry from there. All the anger, the sadness, the shaking, it all stopped suddenly. The next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital bed. As I came back to my conscious self, I wasn’t in pain anymore. I felt nothing.

I noticed an IV in my arm, giving me fluid as to keep me hydrated.

I looked around and everything was starting to come into focus. It was the perfect snowfall outside; slow and beautiful, my favourite weather.

I stared mesmerized for a few minutes waiting for everything else to start making sense. What happened? What about Dan and my mom? I had nothing. I hit the emergency button to call a nurse into my room. She scurried in with another patient's chart in her hands. She was short, with long brown hair tucked into a bun on top of her head. The expression on her face made it seem like I was never suppose to wake up. She seemed thrilled. How long had I been gone for? There was no indication in my room to help me figure it out, other than a small ordinary clock on my wall telling me it was 3 o’clock in the morning.

“Where is my mom?” I asked still groggy from the meds. The nurse looked at me with comfort, and informed me that she was just in the hallway with Dan.

Right… Dan. I remembered that night. I lost a piece of my heart that night. Even recalling the events of that night, I did not experience any feeling. Still no heartbreak, no anger, no jealousy. I thought it must be the meds.

My mom walked in with Dan trailing behind her, and I had never seen them both look so relaxed. They routinely asked me how I was feeling, and if I remembered anything. Thinking about it, I only remember looking in my rearview mirror and seeing Dan chasing me. “That's all I remember.” Mom and Dan exchanged looks. It seemed like they already knew what was going to be said next without even saying anything. Had they bonded that much while all of this was going on?

“It doesn’t matter what happened honey, what matters is you are safe now.”

What bothered me was not that they were bonding so well, it was the fact she said now. What did she mean now and why isn’t anyone telling me what happened?

“No seriously guys, what happened to me? Why am I here?”

Dan spoke up now, looking so heartfelt. He never looks at me like that, let alone is ever really serious with me.

“You’ve been through a lot babe, it’s best if we just let you rest now that you are awake.”

I couldn’t argue with him, this whole thing has raised the hair on my arms; this was not like either of them at all. They walked out of my room and left me to rest.

Chapter 4:

They discharged me as soon as all my vitals were stable and everything was healed. With minor bruising and some scratches, the only lead I had gotten was from my doctor, “You’re lucky to be alive.” Something really bad must have happened.

Dan had volunteered to take me home, and with my mom working that day she happily accepted. I assumed it was because he wanted to talk about what happened that night everything crashed. We got to his car and I crawled in, and as we were driving I noticed that for once in my small town, everyone was driving the way they were suppose to be. Even Dan, who is a reckless driver was going exactly the speed limit, almost as if he were retaking his driver's test. He asked me if I was hungry and if I wanted to go out to eat something other than hospital food, but I really didn’t remember eating at all in the hospital.

We went to a small sports bar for lunch, where I had ordered an omelette and he ordered a burger with fries. I sat quietly waiting for the food to come and wasn’t looking at him after what he had done. I was thankful for him taking me home and being here for me after what happened, but it still didn’t make up for what happened.

“Alicia… We need to talk. I can only imagine how you feel right now, you have no idea what happened. I know you need to know, because that's how you are, but your mom thinks it's best if we just move forward.”

Seriously? That’s what he wanted to talk about? Typical him avoiding the mistake he made. “Is that all you want to talk about? Don’t you think I deserve to know? What if I have permanent brain damage or I have arthritis pain for the rest of my life and I will never know why. Kind of selfish don’t you think?”

“I can’t go against what your mom says, she is your mom.”

“If I was in your shoes, I would tell you what happened, I have respect for you”.

He wasn’t raising his voice. Whenever we fought, he would always raise his voice even simply an octave in defense.

“Fine, you want to know what happened? I’ll tell you but you can’t act like you always know everything in front of your mother if I tell you.”

I said quiet and waited for him to tell me.

“Alicia, how much do you remember from that night?”

I had to sit and think for a moment to make sure I had all my facts straight and in correct order.

“I remember waiting for mom to get home to ask her something about her medication. Then she never came home so I called the cops and had a search party sent out. I called you and your phone went right to voicemail and in the heat of my panic, I drove to your house to make sure you were safe. I showed up, let myself in your house, and you had some girl on your bed. I ran out, got in my car and saw you in my rear view at the light and then I panicked and went through the light. That's all I remember.”

He looked down from me as the food came to the table. He looked like he was in pain, which wouldn’t make any sense to me. This is all his fault.

“So what you are saying is this is all my fault? You didn’t think I already knew that? I have been so heartbroken this whole time, because I knew you got the wrong idea.”

What on earth did he mean the wrong idea? I was enraged at this point but I sat there quietly waiting while he played with his fixings on his burger.

“You were hit by a transport truck, which was going 80 kilometers per hour Alicia. That’s what the doctor meant when he said you are lucky to be alive. I overheard the doctors talking to your mom, and apparently you are a the biggest miracle they have ever seen, or maybe ever to happen.”

I instantly lost my appetite. I had a million questions racing through my head, none of which he could possibly answer.

“Alright well, even though my head is so full of questions and information, you said I had gotten the wrong idea about you and that girl that night. Explain please, because at this point, I already feel uneasy sitting with you right now.”

“That was my cousin Hannah. We have always been super close, and you have nothing to worry about.”

Like I haven’t heard that excuse before. How stupid does he think I am?

“How come I’ve never met this cousin, let alone heard about her? She’s never been at any of your Christmas’s, or any holiday get togethers for that matter.” Caught him.

“She doesn’t live here. My aunt moved them to Ireland a few years ago, and this was her first trip home since then, and she isn’t into me, or even men for that matter.”

It makes sense, but it isn’t making me feel any better. If they were so close, how have I never heard about her before? She was gorgeous, which is what made me so uneasy seeing her there that night.

“Look Alicia. I know this is the last thing you want to hear, but I would never hurt you. You were my first girlfriend, and the last two years I spend with you were the best two years of my life. My family loves you, and I love you even more. You are a miracle.”

I didn’t know what to say back. I was so overwhelmed with information, and I still felt no relief.

He finished his burger and drove me back home. I took my plate to go since I wasn’t hungry. We pull up in front of my house and as I went to get out, he grabbed my arm.

“I love you Alicia. I hope you know that.”

I nodded my head, and froze. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a little purple box. What is happening.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Over the last month, I have had so many thoughts go through my head, and I never knew if I would even get you back. I want you to marry me.”

This is not right. Dan never wanted to get married. Every time we talked about the future he would close himself off and not speak. Either something really happened to him to change him, or I am dreaming that I’m alive. The ring was beautiful, square with one big diamond and small diamonds around the band. I stared in awe and looked back at him and back to the ring.

“Am I dreaming? What happened to you Dan?”

“Let’s say I smartened up!” He laughed and I didn’t find any of this funny.

“I love you, but am I able to get back to you on that? I need to figure some things out before I agree…” I carefully took the ring, and got out of the car.

I went right up to my room, and sat in my bed. I opened the box and sat it on the other side of the bed and just stared at it, for what seemed like hours. It was beautiful and fit perfectly.

Part two out soon

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Flood my Mornings: Samhain

@abreathofsnowandashes said: There would have been A LOT of Irish emigrants in Boston in the 1950s, particularly Irish speakers.  There would have been Scots too, but in much smaller numbers and Gàidhlig would have been much less likely to have been spoken for obvious reasons. I’d love to see Jamie overhear Gaelic (Irish Gaeilge or Scottish Gàidhlig, he’d understand both) being spoken, or maybe come across a hurling/shinty game and make a connection

Notes from Mod Bonnie:

This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.

See all past installments via Bonnie’s Master List

Previous installment:  Twentieth of October (Claire’s birthday dinner)

October 31, 1950

“Happy Halloween,” chirruped the pimple-strewn lad pumping the Gasoline.

Jamie gave the boy a smile and a nod. “Aye, many thanks, and the same to—Bree, no!” He lunged across the wide seat of the Ford and grabbed her round the middle.  She protested and scrabbled vainly for the door latch she had very nearly gotten open. “My apologies,” he said out the open window as he righted himself, holding the lass firmly on his lap, “she’s quite the handful.”

The boy gave Brianna a little wave. “Got big trick-or-treating plans tonight?”

“Ach, no, not this year. Just a bonfire with some friends.”

Burgers, marshmallows, candy, and beer! Nothing fancy! Tom had assured him. Just bring you, the family, and maybe some ice? 

Jamie had left work an hour early to drive home, shower, change into clean clothes, and pick up Brianna to drive the two of them back to Fernacre for Tom and Marian’s gathering. Claire was working overnight, this evening, and Jamie was feeling just that wee bit awkward about the prospect of a social gathering without her at his side. Granted, he would know nearly everyone present; and they were his work comrades, after all; hardly strangers. 

Still, when the convenient topics and tasks of work were removed from his social scenarios, there would always come the odd moment where his ignorance of modern times or American tastes or both would be thrust into the spotlight (“What did you think of the game?” or “What’s your favorite John Wayne film?”) and it was Claire who so adeptly diverted attention so he might collect himself, even as he wracked his brain to recall where he had heard the name of Mr. Wayne before. 

Still, Claire had her duties, and a festive night shared among good folk (for whom he had genuine affection) certainly outweighed the other available option: being obliged to bide by the door all evening, passing out sweeties to any costumed child that cared to ring the bell. Would that strangers had been so generous when I was wandering Boston looking for Claire. Baffling, the lot of them, these Americans.  

“Whoops, I’m sorry, mister, I don’t have enough change,” the boy said apologetically. “Can you hold on a minute while I run inside?”

“Aye, dinna fash, lad.”

The boy blinked and made a face of incomprehension. “Dinner what?” Then, realizing how rude he sounded, he raised his hand, looking distraught and about to start babbling. 

“I only said,” Jamie interjected, “‘Take your time.’”

He said it patiently, wanting to be kind, but as soon as the boy was out of sight, Jamie closed his eyes and felt himself sighing, wearily practicing the proper phrases in his mind for the next such time. ‘No problem, man.’ ‘Don’t worry about it, Sport.’ Flatter “R”s. Shove sound to the back of the tongue. Quieter. Less.

“We c’n go-to play th’game, too, Da?” Brianna asked suddenly in Gaelic. 

“Game?” He blinked his eyes open and studied her face, looking up from his lap excitedly. “What game d’ye wish to—”?

But then he, too, heard the voices drifting across the lot.

“Oh, definitely: Dan’s crew don’t have a chance.”

“I don’t know, they’ve been training hard—and they’re giving Michael and the boys a run for their money, so far!”

He craned his neck out the window. They were men of about his own age or a little older, their arms loaded with sweeties and Soda Pop bottles from the wee store. And they were speaking GAELIC. 

Irish, from the sound of it, the Gaeilge; but the cadence and syllables were so like his own mother tongue that he actually was gasping from the rush of shock and euphoria.  

He was just about to call after them, but at that moment, the young attendant reappeared. Jamie hastily completed the transaction, tipping a bit too heavily as he watched the men out of the corner of his eye, feeling a pang of dismay as they disappeared down over the hill beside the filling station. Jamie thought he could hear the sounds of a small crowd not far off. 

“Beg your pardon,” Jamie blurted, as the attendant was walking away. “What’s going on over the hill, there?”

“Just a bunch of Irish playing—it’s kind of like football, but with sticks and they’re loud as all get out!” he laughed confidentially. 

“Game, Da!” Bree whispered in Gaelic.

“They’re harmless, though, I promise,” the boy said hastily, leaving Jamie to wonder what exactly might be feared from a bunch of Irishmen. The boy blanched. “Oh but you’re–you’re Irish youself. I didn’t mean any–” He didn’t bother to correct the boy as to his heritage, simply thanked him once more and sent him on his way. 

He checked his Watch, and finding that they were still ahead of schedule, he set Bree on the seat next to him, saying in Gaelic, “Aye, a leannan, let’s DO go see the game.”

It was a group of about thirty men on the field, playing a fast-paced game that Jamie wagered was very close indeed to shinty.  The players’ wives and families (and a fair number more, it seemed) were congregated on the sidelines, tending wee coal-grills, drinking, chatting, and calling after the swarms of children running about hither and thither. And all of it was in Gaelic. Jamie wanted to cry, just hearing and seeing this slice of something so like home, the drink-fueled joy of a Gathering, something he hadn’t experienced in many, many years. He could feel the warmth of it all surrounding him with every step he took closer, like the arms of a long-lost friend slowly coming around him. 

As he and Bree drew within a few dozen yards, a whistle sounded and the match broke. The players jogged to their wives and comrades to drink and chat. One man on the nearest edge of the crowd, dark-haired and wiry, caught sight of Jamie and did a double-take, turning sharply to face him in the first pink rays of nearing-sunset. “Can I help you?” he called in English, strongly accented; not unkindly, but definitely on guard.

Jamie called back a greeting in as close to Gaeilge as he could recall, though he wasn’t at all confident in his pronunciation.

It must have been close enough, though, for the man’s face brightened at once. “HEY, NOW!” he roared, walking forward with his arms raised in welcome. “A new kinsman! What county?”

“County *Scotland,* I’m afraid,” Jamie replied, slipping into the Gàidhlig without thinking as he returned the man’s warm handshake. “James Fraser, and my daughter Brianna. Do forgive me for intruding; it’s only that it’s been so verra long since I heard anything like my own tongue. I just couldna resist seeing what was what.”

“And we’re glad you did! It’s grand to get to meet a new cousin from the old places.”

The Irish tongue did have its differences, certainly, but Michael Riley seemed to have no trouble understanding Jamie, nor he, him, with only the occasional What was that word? or confidential laugh over differences in emphasis or tone. 

Bree had been staring at Michael intently, apparently astonished at hearing Gaelic spoken at close range by someone other than her Da. When Jamie nudged her, she gave a tiny, startled ‘Hi’ in English, then grinned and buried her face in his shoulder, making both men laugh.

“D’ye live in these parts yourself, Fraser?” Michael asked eagerly. 

“Not far, but no—I was just stopping for Gasoline on my way out to the countryside. Do all of ye live nearby, then?” Jamie asked, astonished, surveying the huge, lively crowd of players and onlookers. 

“Sure do—the station owner turns a blind eye to us using the field, thank the saints, else we’d all likely be arrested.” 

“Arrested? For playing a wee game?” 

“Well, technically, it *could* be considered trespassing—have a drink?” Jamie politely refused and Michael shrugged, wiping his sweaty brow and taking a deep swig from his own bottle. “There’s a long history of bad blood between Irish and the other folk in Boston. I’m sure there’s plenty of arseholes that would love to see us get comeuppance for whichever dumb mick offended great-great-uncle so and so.” 

Perhaps that went some way toward explaining the odd looks Jamie tended to get when speaking to strangers about Boston. He’d always tacitly assumed something in his manner was out of place in some indeterminate way—some eighteenth-century way, that is—but perhaps it was that he was being assumed Irish in a place where that wasn’t altogether a pretty thing to be. He would have to ask Claire. 

Christ, he chuckled to himself, an Outlander thrice over, he was, in Boston. At least he wasn’t the only one.

Michael introduced him to the members of his team, one and all bringing Jamie and Bree further into the crowd, offering drinks, and asking about their history and family. He felt as if he’d walked into a clan gathering, even after only ten minutes among the Irish. “And what about you, then?” he asked of Michael, after giving his (presumed) backstory for the half-dozenth time, “From whence in Ireland do you folk hail?”

“Well, we’re mostly Corkmen here—” Michael said, which elicited cheers from the Cork contingent. “Some like me, born here stateside, but plenty of folk fresh off the boat, like Barny, there, except he’s from Tipperary. Then there’s Fergal whose folk are from Sligo,” he said, scanning the crowd and methodically cataloging. “Then Vance and Peter and the other Michael, of Galway. And then over there, there’s Charlie, but he’s not—OY!” He gave a sudden whoop of excitement and cupped his hands around his mouth to yell, “EY, CHARLIE!! COME OVER HERE!! FOUND YE A WEE CLANSMAN!!”

A stocky blonde man jogged over eagerly and Michael clapped him on the shoulder. “Charlie, here, plays for those bastards on Dan’s team, but we won’t hold it against him just at present. Charlie, this is James—James, right? Aye, good—James Fraser. He’s from your precious highlands!”

Charlie was an open, eager sort, ruddy-faced and jovial, quick with a joke and an easy word. Jamie quickly learned from rapid conversation in the Gàidhlig that the man was a Highlander-born, a MacAlister whose family had come to America when he was nearly sixteen. He’d hated the new place, and had planned to return to Scotland the moment as he was of age; but then war had broken out just days before his eighteenth birthday, and he’d been compelled to go fight. He worked as a builder, now, feeding the demand for suburban homes from families in the growing prosperity of the post-war times. Jamie decided he truly liked the man, and knew without asking that he must have children himself, when he grinned at Bree and said, “And hello there, a leannan,” with a little bow. 

“Hi, how-wer you?” she responded, to Jamie’s astonishment, in almost-perfect Gàidhlig. 

“I’m verra well, thank ye verra much for asking, sweet lass,” the blonde man laughed, straightening and looking impressed. “Does she speak it at home, then?”

“No, not often,” Jamie said, rather apologetically. “I do try to speak it around her when I think of it, but her mam is English, so we—”

“American, you mean?”

“Nay,” Jamie laughed, with a mock-sneer, “an honest-to-goodness Sassenach.”

Charlie matched Jamie’s manner with groan of false-disgust. “Christ, but ye must have balls of steel, Jamie, to — oh!” he said abruptly, looking a bit embarrassed, “Sorry—is it alright that I call ye Jamie?”

Jamie could feel the warmth of kinship flood through him like water. “Of *course,* friend,” he said with feeling. 

Charlie introduced his Irish wife Saoirse and their two small boys, to whom Bree took at once, sharing their toys on the grass.

They talked about Scotland, about America, about Boston. About Gaelic. About talk of a free and independent Scotland. About the Celtic traditions that had crossed the ocean, and those that had not. Of gatherings that apparently took place all around the country, in hill-and-mountain places, for folk to remember the old clan ways, even if in naught but a faint imitation. Even of bannocks, whiskey, and wool; the simple things of highland home, even two hundred years hence, it seemed. It was more a balm to Jamie’s heart than he could comprehend: that the Scotland he knew hadn’t vanished entirely. 

A whistle blew and Charlie brandished his stick deftly as the crowd began to shift. “Ever played a game of hurling?” 

“It’s like shinty, no?”

“Not too far off, not at all. Here,” he said, beginning to walk backward toward the pitch, “come wi’ me and I’ll give ye the rundown.”

With a jolt, Jamie noted the position of the sun and remembered the ice in the back of the Car. “Sadly, we must be going, Charlie.”

“Oh, come on!” Charlie wheedled, taking one last deep swig of beer and kissing Saoirse exuberantly. “Wee Brianna seems to be having a fine time wi’ Nolan and Will. And I’ve got some extra gear if —”

“it isna that at all,” Jamie said, turning an apologetic smile toward his new companion, “it’s only that we’ve got a Halloween gathering to attend, and we’re expected shortly.”

“Och, that’s too bad. First one since you arrived? Weel, it isna nearly so ghostly as Samhain, let me tell ye. All the spooks you’re like to encounter look as if they came out from a children’s book or a Walt Disney film. I tell wee Nolan when he’s scairt in the night that all the ghosts are back in Scotland. No doorways to the otherworlds in America, so no Old Folk to be afraid of."

(Oh, aye? Ye have one right in front of ye, man.)

Charlie held out the stick once more, inviting. "Sure ye canna be persuaded to celebrate wi’ us instead, Jamie?”

“I truly canna stay, but thank ye, Charlie, I should verra much have liked to.” Jamie knelt to break up the play-circle. “Can ye say ‘farewell’ to your new friends, Bree?” 

“Farewell,” she chirped, waving her chubby hand enthusiastically.

“That’s not’th’right way,” chided Nolan, who was a year or two older. “You say it funny.” 

Bree looked crestfallen, but Charlie ruffled his son’s hair, laughing as he gently scolded. “Nay, a chuisle, you’ve just grown up wi’ Gaeilge—YOU’RE the one who ‘says it funny.’” 

Jamie scooped Bree into his arms, whispering in her ear about how proud he was of her before turning back to Charlie. “Do ye play every week, then? I’d truly be honored to come back another time.”

“Oh aye. The winter snows will start falling soon, but we’re here most every chance we can get, when the ground’s clear.” Charlie sized him up frankly, nodding with approval. “You’re a braw-looking fucker, alright. Dinna let Michael steal ye for his lousy crew, aye? They’re naught but loud bastards. The *real* talent’s wi’ us.” 

Jamie made a general farewell to the crowd and received a hearty chorus of well-wishes and toasts in return. 

“At the risk of seeming too eager, Jamie…” He turned to see that Charlie was looking sheepish, “might the wife and I have ye and the family over for dinner, sometime?” 

When Jamie didn’t immediately respond, the man shrugged, but didn’t falter. “Mebbe it’s daft, but as much as I love my Irish folk, it’s grand having someone to talk to in the old ways again; who’s truly my countryman. D’ye ken what I mean?”

Jamie swallowed down the lump in his throat as he clasped the man’s hand. “Aye, a caraidh, I ken it more than ye can possibly know.”

[Next chapter: The First Step] 

[andrewmawby]

June 13, 2021 AsktheBuilder Newsletter

Did you just subscribe to this newsletter in the last few days? Welcome aboard! This top paragraph is where I extend my gratitude for your trust. Trust is an interesting concept. I recently saw a TV commercial that got me thinking about how important it is. But more on that later in the newsletter.

You, though, might have been part of my crew for so many years you might recall when my Roofing Ripoff book debuted. It reads like a murder mystery that you can get through in less than one hour.

CLICK HERE to read the first three chapters for FREE!

Remember when I was hot and bothered about my 30-year asphalt shingles that were beginning to fall apart in just nine years? Well, the cosmic tumblers aligned perfectly enabling me to interview a top official in the asphalt shingle industry.

I had to promise his identity would never be revealed. For this guarantee, he spilled the beans about why my, and your, shingles were falling apart.

But that’s not the best part. As you help me get to the bottom of the debacle, you’ll discover I was the first person in the world to discover that a wide copper strip on the top of your roof will dramatically extend the life of your shingles, assuming they’re new or in great shape.

Look at the photo below to see proof. Look really closely and tell me if you can figure out the prevailing weather direction.

Imagine having your new asphalt shingle roof last for 40, 50 or more years. HOLY COW!

It’s all in my Roofing Ripoff book. If you’re going to be putting a new roof on soon, you really need to peruse it. Trust me, I guarantee you’ll be aghast at how you and millions of others were played.

But what do I know? I ate lunch sitting on overturned empty drywall mud buckets for 21+ years…

White Residue on Wood

Have you seen this residue on outdoor wood you’ve just cleaned?

Do you know what it is, what causes it to appear, and how to get rid of it?

But most importantly, do you know how to make sure it NEVER COMES BACK AGAIN?

I know the answers to all those questions and more. Days ago, I decided to create a wonderful 2-page PDF file that will allow you to save all sorts of time and headaches in the future.

CLICK or TAP HERE to gain access to it.

FREE BIDS - Local Contractors

CLICK or TAP HERE to get FREE BIDS for any job inside or outside your home. You’ll get calls within an hour.

Easy Wood Fascia

Wall-mount doors are gaining in popularity. But some don’t want their home to look like a barn. Now realize, I’m not saying barns are bad!

What if you could find magic simple easy-to-install hardware like this to solve the conundrum? Look:

CLICK or TAP HERE and then tell me what you think of this absolutely amazing invention.

While watching my latest video, you may note there appears to be a defect in the lens. For some reason, it’s not registering hair pixels on top of my head and in one scene it created some strange distortion of my upper torso. I’ve since sent the camera in for testing.

Common Sense Might Be Uncommon

About a week ago, I was watching TV and started to howl with laughter. It was a hokey huckster commercial selling this miracle product you can spray on the outside of your home to make algae and mildew disappear. I felt like I had stepped into a time machine and was standing next to a traveling snake-oil salesman’s wagon in a tiny dusty out-West town 150 years ago.

The name of the product is not important as you’ll immediately identify this commercial. If your vision is poor, you may not be able to discern that much of what you saw in the commercial was CGI - computer generated imagery. That’s what you see in many of the big-screen action movies.

In other words, what you’re seeing is FAKE. There’s lots of fake stuff out there inundating you and me each day. It’s your job to separate the wheat from the chaff. But I can help.

While trying to control my laughter, I was immediately reminded of a product that’s quite similar and has been on the market for years - Wet & Forget. Several months ago, I got an email from another home improvement website pounding their chest about how good the product is. I saved it for this newsletter.

This past week, I decided to dedicate my syndicated newspaper column, yes, it still runs in over 60+ papers in the USA, to the topic of how to best clean algae off siding.

I BEG YOU TO READ the column to understand why these miracle easy-to-use products don’t live up to their expectations. Peer at the product labels and my guess is you’ll discover both of these products probably contain a VERY TOXIC chemical you’d never ever ever want to spray on the outside of your home. I talk about this chemical in my latest column. CLICK or TAP HERE to read it.

I’ll leave you with this. When you see a website say that something is the BEST and then you discover it’s not, does that shake you to your core? It should. I recall the one script line in the first Spiderman movie:

With great power comes great responsibility.

Stop being played.

Stop consuming fake commercials, fake reviews, fake anything. Instead, start using your tiny gray cells and put all you are seeing and hearing to the smell test.

Who You Gonna Call?

Bob Abel lives in hot and humid Florida. He reached out to me a few days ago with a question I get all the time. He was asking about a tankless water heater, but it could have been any product. You’ll immediately see how you could ask this question about hundreds of things:

“My wife and I will be building a home in Port St Lucie, FL. We are looking at installing a tankless water heater. The builder only installs these units on the outside of the home. I've heard that this might not be a good option because there is a history of these units "frying" in a hot-weather climate. Your thoughts?”

How might you answer this question?

Imagine you’re on a huge TV game show and you’re on stage in the game where you might win $1,000,000 if you can answer the following question:

Who do you think has the most authoritative answer to Bob’s question?

Tick tick tick tick tick - you only have 15 seconds to answer. Who is it?

Well, we know you’re not going to reach out to Bill Murray or Dan Aykroyd, right?

CLUE: Think product warranty!

The correct answer is the product manufacturer. You read the written installation instructions for each product you’re going to use to ensure it’s being installed correctly so as to not void the warranty.

There’s another nugget of information in Bob’s question. Did you pick up on it?

He said, “I’ve heard that….”

Heard it from whom? Are they an expert? Was it on some forum where clueless people babble on or speculate? Was it from some young contractor with a whopping six months total lifetime experience working with tankless water heaters?

Bottom Line: STOP being so trusting.

STOP TRUSTING everything you hear or see. Question everything for goodness sake.

Each week, I do countless autopsies on horrible homeowner problems where the ROOT CAUSE of the problem is the homeowner TRUSTED the contractor or the person wearing an apron at a big box store.

Please, STOP DOING THIS.

Use your tiny gray cells and shift them into critical-thinking gear.

Invest the time and read the written instructions from the manufacturer. If they’re not clear, then I can help you for goodness sake. I’m happy to call you on the phone.

That’s quite enough for a HOT Sunday in June.

Tim Carter Founder - www.AsktheBuilder.com Certified Organic Cleaner - www.StainSolver.com DX Fun - www.W3ATB.com

Do It Right, Not Over!

P.S. What’s the best exterior house paint? What's the resin or GLUE component of the paint that’s the best? Do you know? Should you know? CLICK or TAP HERE to discover if you were right.

The post June 13, 2021 AsktheBuilder Newsletter appeared first on Ask the Builder.

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[radhikapatelblog-blog]

Dan Ariely: Predictably Irrational

Chapter 1: The Truth About Relativity

We always seek to draw comparisons, and we are often unaware as to how seemingly irrelevant factors such as the simple presentation of options, actually influence what we select.

Thus, given three choices, A, B (very distinct, but equally as attractive as A), and A- (similar to A, but inferior), we will almost always choose A, because it is clearly superior to A-.

Thus, the simple addition of a third "A-" option, "Paris without a free breakfast", will cause us to choose "Paris with a free breakfast", the "A" option, over "Rome with a free breakfast", the equally attractive "B" option.

Similarly, had the third option added been "B minus" - "Rome without a free breakfast", we would have selected that "B" option - "Rome with a free breakfast".

When contemplating the purchase of a $25 pen, the majority of subjects would drive to another store 15 minutes away to save $7

When contemplating the purchase of a $455 suit, the majority of subjects would not drive to another store 15 minutes away to save $7

The amount saved and time involved are the same, but people make very different choices

Watch out for relative thinking; it comes naturally to all of us.

Chapter 2: The Fallacy of Supply and Demand

Anchoring has a major long-term effect on our willingness to pay.

For every product, those with a 80-99 SSN were willing to pay more than those with a 00-19 SSN...by nearly 3X.

Herding: Assuming that something is good (or bad) on the basis of other people's previous behavior

Example: People wanting to go to a restaurant where people are waiting outside

Example: Going back to Starbucks because you recall enjoying yourself on your previous visit

At that point, you no longer ask yourself if you'd be better off with the cheaper coffee at Dunkin Donuts, or with the free coffee at your office

Starbucks itself is a case of producing a new anchor.  Schultz made Starbucks as different as possible from the traditional coffee shop to convince shoppers to establish a new anchor, rather than saying, "This is a fancy, expensive Dunkin Donuts."

Ariely then ran another experiment.  He read from "Leaves of Grass," and then asked his students the following:

1/2 of the students were asked if they would be willing to pay Ariely $10 for a 10-minute poetry recitation

1/2 of the students were asked if they would be willing to listen to a 10-minute poetry recitation if Ariely paid them $10

The students who were asked if they were willing to pay offered $1 for a short reading, $2 for a medium reading, and $3 for a long reading.

The students who were asked if they'd accept pay demanded $1.30 for a short reading, $2.70 for a medium reading, and $4.80 for a long reading.

This is known as the "Tom Sawyer" effect.  Quote Twain: "There are wealthy gentlemen in England who drive four-horse passenger coaches 20 or 30 miles in the summer because the privilege costs them considerable money, but if they were offered wages for the service, that would turn it into work, and then they would resign."

Knowing the impact of anchoring, you should train yourself to question your repeated behaviors.  You should also pay particular attention to the first decision in a long stream of decisions.  It may seem like it is just one decision, but that first decision may have impact on future decisions for years to come.

The bigger picture is that supply and demand are not independent; supply-side variables like MSRP can impact willingness to pay.  Price "memory" can also have a major impact. Doubling the price of milk and halving the price of wine would have a major short-term impact, but it's unlikely to have a long-term impact on consumption patterns. And if you induced amnesia about the previous prices, it might have nearly no impact at all.

Chapter 3: The Cost of Zero Cost

Why we often pay too much when we pay nothing

Zero/free is a source of irrational excitement.  This is called the "zero price effect."

When a truffle was $0.15 and a Kiss was $0.01, 73% of subjects chose the truffle and 27% the Kiss

When a truffle was $0.14 and a Kiss was free, 69% chose the kiss and 31% the truffle

According to standard economic theory, the price reduction shouldn't lead to any behavior change (relative price and expected pleasure should be equal between the two experiments)

Humans are loss-averse; when considering a normal purchase, loss-aversion comes into play

But when an item is free, there is no visible possibility of loss

He gave kids (and students) 3 Kisses and offered to trade 1 Kiss for a small Snickers, and 2 Kisses for a large Snickers.

The subjects overwhelmingly chose the large Snickers (which is rational, given the weights of the candies)

When he instead offered to trade 1 Kiss for a large Snickers, or let the person take a small Snickers for free, the subjects overwhelming went for the free offer.

The zero price effect applies even when money is not involved.

After Super Saver shipping was introduced, Amazon saw sales increases everywhere except for France

It turned out that the French division offered 1 franc ($0.20) pricing instead of free pricing.

When this was changed to free, France saw the same sales increases as elsewhere

Chapter 4: The Cost of Social Norms

Why we are happy to do things, but not when we are paid to do them.

Imagine the scene if, after Thanksgiving dinner at your mother-in-law's house, you pulled out your wallet and asked, "How much do I owe you?"

Social norms such as reciprocity are warm and fuzzy, with no explicit quid pro quo

Market norms are explicit and hard--you get what you pay for

Example: You can't mix social and market norms where sex is involved. You can't wine and dine a woman and then say, "You know, this relationship is costing me a lot of money."  As Woody Allen said, "The most expensive sex is free sex."

$5: 159 circles

$0.50: 101 circles

Zero: 168 circles

Participants worked harder under non-monetary social norms than for payment!

$5 (Godiva): 169 circles

$0.50 (Snickers): 162 circles

Zero: 168 circles

Conclusion: Small gifts don't constitute a market norm, and keep things in the social realm

Thinking about money made people more self-reliant and less willing to ask for help.

On the other hand, they were less willing to help others.

More selfish and self-reliant

Wanted to spend more time alone

Were more likely to select individual tasks rather than those that required teamwork

Chose to sit farther away from others

Imposing a fine had long-term negative effects. Without a fine, parents felt guilty about being late (Ariely dryly notes, "In Israel, guilt seems to be an effective way to get compliance").  Imposing a fine inadvertently replaced social norms with market norms.  Parents decided to since they were being fined, they could decide whether or not to be late, and frequently chose to be late.

A few weeks later, the day care center removed the fine, but the situation worsened. Rather than reverting to social norms, parents now concluded that there was no penalty for tardiness.

Conclusion? "When a social norm collides with a market norm, the social norm goes away for a long time.  In other words, social relationships are not easy to reestablish. Once a social norm is trumped by a market norm, it will rarely return."

"If you're a company, you can't have it both ways. You can't treat your customers like family one moment and then treat them impersonally (or worse, as a nuisance or competitor) a moment later when this becomes more convenient or profitable. This is not how social relationships work. If you want a social relationship, go for it, but remember that you have to maintain it under all circumstances."

If you think you need to play rough, don't waste money making your company the fuzzy feel-good choice. State what you give and what you expect in return--it's just business.

Chapter 5: The Influence of Arousal

Why Hot Is Much Hotter Than We Realize

Sober: 7%

Aroused: 23%

Sober: 53%

Aroused: 77%

Sober: 41%

Aroused: 69%

Sober: 5%

Aroused: 26%

Sober: 86%

Aroused: 60%

Someone may promise to just say no, but that promise is less likely to hold up during a state of arousal

Chapter 6: The Problem of Procrastination and Self-Control

Why We Can't Make Ourselves Do What We Want To Do

Students who spaced out their commitments did well; students who did the logical thing and gave no commitments did badly.

Ford had issues getting customers to come in for regular maintenance. Many of the parts needed servicing at different times, and the intervals differed by vehicle.

Then Ford noticed that Honda had lumped all service needs into one of three intervals: 6 months/5,000 miles, 1 year/10,000 miles, and 2 years/25,000 miles. It was suboptimal from an engineering standpoint, but it made it easy to tell customers when to come in.

Ford imitated Honda, and within 3 years, was achieving the same results.

Why not make comprehensive physicals simple?  Then layer in a financial penalty for missing them.

Chapter 7: The High Price of Ownership

Why We Overvalue What We Have

The "endowment effect" means that when we own something, we begin to value it more than other people do.

Ariely and Carmon conducted an experiment on Duke students, who sleep out for weeks to get basketball tickets; even those who sleep out are still subjected to a lottery at the end.  Some students get tickets, some don't.

The students who didn't get tickets told Ariely that they'd be willing to pay up to $170 for tickets.

The students who did get the tickets told Ariely that they wouldn't accept less than $2,400 for their tickets.

Remember, these students were indistinguishable until some won the lottery and some lost.

There are three fundamental quirks of human nature:

When thinking about selling something, you think about all the things you'll miss, rather than the hassles of ownership.

Peculiarities of ownership:

This is why trials and money-back guarantees work so well! People hate to downgrade.

To counteract the endowment effect, try to view all transactions as a non-owner. (Editor's note: This explains the efficacy of one of my favorite questions: "Assuming you hadn't done X, would you still do it now?")

Chapter 8: Keeping Doors Open

Why Options Distract Us from Our Main Objective

In 210 BC, Xiang Yu led an army against the Ch'in Dynasty.  While his troops slept, he burned his ships and smashed all the cooking pots.  He explained to his troops that they had to either fight their way to victory or die.  His troops won 9 consecutive battles.  Eliminating options improved the focus of his troops.

We feel compelled to preserve options, even at great expense, even when it doesn't make sense.

Ariely and Shin conducted an experiment on MIT students. They devised a computer game which offered players three doors: Red, Blue, and Green. You started with 100 clicks. You clicked to enter a room. Once in a room, each click netted you between 1-10 cents. You could also switch rooms (at the cost of a click). The rooms were programmed to provide different levels of rewards (there was variation within each room's payoffs, but it was pretty easy to tell which one provided the best payout).

Players jumped from door to door, trying to keep their options open.

They made 15% less money; in fact, by choosing any of the doors and sticking with it, they could have made more money.

"What we need to do is to consciously start closing some of our doors....We ought to shut them because they draw energy and commitment from the doors that should be left open--and because they drive us crazy."

When we focus on the similarities and minor differences between two things, we fail to take into account the consequences of not deciding. Flip a coin and move on.

Editor's note: This particular irrationality is covered well in "The Paradox of Choice" (alas, no outline yet).

Chapter 9: The Effect of Expectations

Why The Mind Gets What It Expects

Previously held expectations can cloud our point of view.

Ariely, Lee, and Frederick conducted yet another experiment on MIT students. They let students taste two different beers, and then choose to get a free pint of one of the brews.  Brew A was Budweiser.  Brew B was Budweiser, plus 2 drops of balsamic vinegar per ounce.

When students were not told about the nature of the beers, they overwhelmingly chose the balsamic beer.

When students were told about the true nature of the beers, they overwhelmingly chose the Budweiser.

If you tell people up front that something might be distasteful, the odds are good they'll end up agreeing with you--because of their expectations.

Ariely, Ofek, and Bertini then conducted another experiment, this time on Sloan students. They offered students a free cup of coffee and asked them to indicate how much they liked the coffee, and how much they'd be willing to pay for it. They also set out a table of condiments, some usual, some unusual (cloves, nutmeg, cardamom, etc.).

None of the students used the unusual condiments.

When the condiments served in fancy containers (versus white Styrofoam cups), the students were much more likely to say that they liked the coffee, and were willing to pay more for it.  "When the coffee ambience looked upscale, the coffee tasted upscale as well."

When we believe something will be good, it generally will be good, and when we think it will be bad, it will be bad.  But does finding out the truth after the experience change one's mind?

Ariely conducted the beer experiment again, but with a twist.  The students would taste the beer first.  Only then they would be told the truth.  And after that, they would be asked their opinions.

If the knowledge merely informs us, whether you found out about the vinegar before or after the tasting should be irrelevant. On the other hand, if the knowledge actually reshapes sensory experiences, being told beforehand would have a radically different effect.

People who were told afterwards about the vinegar liked the beer just as much as those who weren't aware of the vinegar at all.  In other words, knowledge affected the sensory experience.

And people followed through on their opinion; when participants were given the opportunity to add vinegar to a free beer afterwards, those who learned of the vinegar after their tasting were much more likely to add vinegar to their free beer.

How can you use this knowledge?

When a person drinks Coke or Pepsi, the ventromedial prefrontal cortex (VMPFC) was stimulated.

When a person knew they were about to get a drink of Coke, the dorsolateral aspect of the prefrontal cortex (DLPFC), an area involved in higher-order brain functions, was also activated.

The Coke brand was able enhance activity in the brain's pleasure center, actually changing the experience of drinking Coke.

Stereotypes

The second group did better on the math test than the first.

The polite word group waited 9.3 minutes before they interrupted.

The rude word group waited only 5.5 minutes before interrupting

Policy implications for conflicts between groups

"Blind" presentation of the facts (presenting the facts, but not revealing which party took which actions) might help people better recognize the truth.

We can try using a neutral third party to set down rules and regulations

Editor's Note: This ties in nicely with one of my favorite persuasive tactics--reframing a decision in different but logically equivalent terms.  If a person is being irrational, I give them a what-if that recasts them or a group they identify with as the party being harmed...if they have a shred of self-awareness, this usually helps them understand how their prejudices are clouding their judgment.

Chapter 10: The Power of Price

Why a 50-Cent Aspirin Can Do What A Penny Aspirin Can't

The placebo effect is well-known and real.  It's not just a matter of fooling oneself; placebos can actually trigger endorphins and opiates and other biological reactions that actually change body and experience. What is interesting, however, is that price has an impact on efficacy.

Ariely, Waber, Shiv, and Carmon made up a fake painkiller, Veladone-Rx. An attractive woman in a business suit (with a faint Russian accent) told subjects that 92% of patients receiving VR reported significant pain relief in 10 minutes, with relief lasting up to 8 hours.

The control group that didn't drink SoBe got 9/15 correct

The "expensive" group got 9/15 correct

The "discount" group got 6.5/15 correct

The "discount" group improved their score by 0.6

The "expensive" group improved their score by 3.3...in other words, they did better than the control group!

Chapter 11: The Context of Our Character, Part 1

Why We Are Dishonest, and What We Can Do About It

Ariely conducted an experiment on Harvard students. He gave students a 50-question, multiple-choice quiz.  They would take the quiz, then transfer the answers to a Scantron sheet.  The students received $0.10 for each correct answer.  The results were as follows:

32.6/50

36.2/50 (cheating = 3.6 questions)

35.9/50

36.1/50

Given the opportunity, many honest people will cheat (similar experiments were conducted at MIT, Princeton, UCLA, and Yale with similar results, so it's not just that Harvard students are crooks).

Once tempted to cheat, students didn't seem to be influenced by the risk of getting caught; even when we have no chance of getting caught, we still don't become wildly dishonest.

"We care about honesty and want to be honest. The problem is that our internal honesty monitor is active only when we contemplate big transgressions, like grabbing an entire box of pens. For little transgressions like taking a single pen, we don't even consider how these actions would reflect on our honesty."

And most of the subjects couldn't even recall all of the commandments!  Even those who could only remember 1 or 2 commandments were nearly as honest.  "This indicated that it was not the Commandments themselves that encouraged honesty, but the mere contemplation of a moral benchmark of some kind."

Those who signed didn't cheat.  Those who didn't see the statement showed 84% cheating.

"The effect of signing a statement about an honor code is particularly amazing because MIT doesn't even have an honor code."

Chapter 12: The Context of Our Character, Part 2

Why Dealing With Cash Makes Us More Honest

Ariely conducted an experiment on MIT's communal refrigerators.

When he slipped in a 6-pack of Coke, all the Cokes had vanished within 72 hours

When he left a plate containing 6 $1 bills, no one *ever* took any of the money

Would you feel bad about taking a pen for you child?  How about taking $0.10 from petty cash to pay for a pen for your child?  The two are economically identical, but get very different reactions.

"Cheating is a lot easier when it's a step removed from money."

Ariely returned to the honesty tests, but with a twist: Students told the proctor their score.  The proctor gave them tokens.  The students would then walk to another experimenter and trade the tokens for cash.

Of 2,000 participants, only 4 went for total cheating--claiming to have solved every problem

Switching from cash to an equivalent non-monetary currency doubled cheating!

Of the token group, 24/150 participants cheated all the way.

We have no idea how dishonest we are

Students predicted that they would be no more likely to cheat with tokens than cash...they were completely wrong.

People who have their assistants turn in their expense reports (rather than turning them in personally) are much more likely to cheat.

Businesspeople are more likely to claim dubious expenses when they are traveling across the country than when they are in their home city, or even just returning from the airport.

Overall, cheating is not limited by risk; it is limited by our ability to rationalize the cheating to ourselves.

Chapter 13: Beer and Free Lunches

What Is Behavioral Economics, and Where Are the Free Lunches?

Experiment 1: Beer ordering.  A group of 4 is offered a choice of 4 different beers.

In Hong Kong, in a culture that values conformity rather than uniqueness, the similar but opposite effect occurred.  People ordered the same order as the people ordering before them.  They were still unhappy, but they made their choice to avoid uniqueness, rather than to seek it out.

"We are all far less rational in our decisionmaking than standard economic theory assumes. Our irrational behaviors are neither random nor senseless--they are systematic and predictable.  So wouldn't economics make a lot more sense if it were based on how people actually behave?  That simple idea is the basis of behavioral economics."

Getting employees to pre-commit to using raises to increase 401k contributions raised the savings rate from 3.5% to 13.5% over a few years.

This outline was written by Chris Yeh, made free as part of the The Book Outline Wiki: http://bookoutlines.pbworks.com/w/page/14422685/Predictably%20Irrational

[jdrichie-blog]

(BT)

As we were adjusting to Vietnam, we were fortunate enough to have a weekday off, as it was a public holiday. So a bunch of us decided to go to this place called Bui Vien in the centre of the city. From what we had heard, this was the place to be for the crazy partying. So we hopped into a taxi, where one girl chatted on and on, and the guy next to me was feeling exceptionally randy, as he continually tried to make out with a different girl, but to no avail.

  The first time visiting Bui Vien was quite something. Many (club workers) tried to persuade us to go into their clubs, the smell of cooking wafting all over the street, karaoke singing outside restaurants, cars and bikes driving through the packed crowds, and tons of very drunk, happy people. When visiting, this is a great place, as the chaotic environment is quite thrilling. However, it can get repetitive very quickly, as most nights that I’ve spent there ended at 4 or 5 in the morning.

  Our group ended up visiting different clubs, partook in very questionable dancing, and progressively we got more and more intoxicated. By the time we were ready to leave, we came across another member of our TESOL course. This guy is called Dan. Judging from the first few days, Dan was rather quiet, but you could tell that he was a very nice chap. Everyone from the course would agree with me on this. He certainly didn’t conjure the image of a party goer, yet here he was in the middle of the chaos that is Bui Vien. Eventually we found out that he had joined Jonathan for a night out. But, Jonathan was nowhere to be found.

  There were 8 of us ready to head back to Go Vap. B

ecause of this, we had trouble finding a taxi. Yet we came up with a solution, someone was to go in the boot of the car. Dan kindly volunteered for this, even though he’s well over 6 foot, knowing that it was going to be a tight squeeze for him. Sure enough, we all managed to fit in, with Dan in a position resembling what those poor magician’s apprentices look like, crammed into those boxes to make it seem as though they’re being sawn in half.  

  In the taxi, every now and then a song came on, which we would sing along to, as for the most part, we were all in a jolly mood, and were glad that we’d got to spend the evening together. Eventually, one song that came along on the radio was from the Red Hot Chili Peppers. The exact song is lost on me. But what isn’t lost is Dan quietly singing to himself in the boot, whilst we all listened with amusement. Good ole Dan, I’m glad we ran into him that night. We got to know him better, and from there, we were able to steadily help him have more life experiences. Something that we’re still doing for him.

  We heard a whole lot of rumours about what Jonathan did that night. Many of these rumours, he never flat out denied. But I don’t think that anyone really knows what exactly he did that night. Therefore, I now turn you the reader over to the man-child himself. Take it away Jonno.

  (JDR)  

There I was, juiced up on codeine and alcohol, draped in thousandaire gear, shoes gleamed up for royalty, ready for a night out in this new city of mine.  A recommendation was made by the teacher (an Australian bloke in his late 50s) of the TESOL course to try out this 7-seventeen bar, where apparently the waitresses were ‘nice’.  Hmm.  I wasn’t sure what that meant, but his intonation was convincing enough for me.  The decision was made.  Next up: who’d join me?

  A tall (6’3”?) pale scrawny American with an old man’s voice was also in this course and in the same class as me.  He was obviously young (not older than 24).  I assumed he was from the Midwest but turned out he was from Northern Pennsylvania.  His name was Dan.  But his name would change quite often over the next two months.

  Perhaps now is as good a time as any to attempt to describe the chaos that is the streets of Saigon.  I’m sure you all have seen a flock of birds suddenly change directions with leaders of the flock alternating as often as populist politicians change positions (or how my high priced prostitutes change their positions – same same).  That’s sort of how the traffic works here.  It’s like a beautiful symphony, but only Amadeus knows how it goes … and it’s all in his head, but somehow, the participants in this incredible exercise of “I dare you to go left!” or “I hope he’s going left!” have figured out this complex chaotic disorderly orderly system.  Fuck if I know how to figure it out, which is why I won’t dare to drive in the city.  I’ll be forever summoning Uber-motorbike or Grab-bike (or the cars if and when it’s raining, which is quite often during six months of the year).  Sidebar:  riding on the back of the motorbike with your thighs up against another man (it’s always a man driving the bike) with bumps in the road and adjusting positions along the route is just something I thought about.  Hmm.  I suppose there is something more to that thought (think photoshopping out the motorbike).

  Back to Dan and that night out.  For those that know me, a ‘night out’ has a certain meaning to it (one that often produces memories for others and one where I have no memory of the night).  We began at this 7-seventeen bar, where there was live music.  I recall the ladies, who were quite attractive, singing and dancing the one and only Queen Bey (“All The Single Ladies” and you know I was dancing).  I was thoroughly impressed.  The waitress made her way to the table where Dan and I proceeded to order drinks.  After our drinks arrived, it was time for me to take a tour of this facility.  It was then I was greeted by a lady wearing a midriff, belly button pierced, shining bright like a diamond.  I couldn’t understand anything she was saying, but a picture was taken nonetheless.  After a few “huhs?” and “what’s that?”, she typed into her translator “is your friend gay?” … at least that’s what I remember it saying.  Dan’s version of the evening differs in that he said she was proposing a price for the evening.  It was funny either way.  Dan covered the entire drink bill (thank you, sir).

  After a few more rounds (drinks and trips around the bar), we decided to depart.  It’s at this point where the evening becomes very blurry for me.  I vaguely recall going to a club where I think I was negotiating with a few ladies, while we drank (and the ladies kept inquiring about Dan’s sexuality).  I felt the oncoming black-out-ness, so being my experienced self, I said I had to leave.  I think I encountered a number of friendly ‘dealers’ along the way to the pick-up spot because I recall Dan yelling “NO JONATHAN! DON’T DO IT!”.  Those lines still makes me laugh when I think about them.  

  I woke up the next day with a fire extinguisher next to me in bed.  I have no recollection on how it got there, but besides that red metal potential life saver, I was again, by myself.  I later learned that that was Dan’s second time being drunk and again, for those that know me, your second experience of being inebriated around me is equivalent to skydiving without a parachute.  Kudos to Dan for hanging that night.  (Also, I think the fire extinguisher came from the Uber, but I can’t remember.)

  Since then, his nickname went from ‘Innocent Dan’ to ‘Transition Dan’ to ‘Prodigy Dan’ as he’s tried many new things hanging out with the likes of yours truly.  As usual, my ability to influence is used for the greater good.  (Oh, yeah, I thought he might have been on Rumspringa, but turns out, he isn’t Amish).  

  First night out … and Dan (BT) As we were adjusting to Vietnam, we were fortunate enough to have a weekday off, as it was a public holiday.

[anavoliselenu]

This man chapter 12

I persistently ignore my phone, except when Mikael calls to arrange a meeting for tomorrow. He’s stuck in Denmark for the rest of the week, so I’m meeting his PA at The Life Building at nine in the morning. As six o’clock hits, I’m satisfied with my productive day and glad I knuckled down. The day has flown by.

Crawling through the front door, I find an empty house. I’m absolutely shattered. It’s a combination of the after effects from my Saturday night blow out and the Justin saga. I’m rubbish at hangovers. They last longer than the average day for me. My Monday night cheeky glass of wine will not be happening tonight.

I take myself to my room and strip down to shower, gazing up at the ceiling for strength when my phone starts ringing again. This man is not going to make this easy on me. I know it. But then I realise…it’s not Black and Gold. I’ve endured the damn track all bloody day, knocking my phone to silent each time. I’m pleasantly surprised when I see “Mum Mobile” flash up.

I listen to her for twenty minutes as she gives me the full itinerary of Dan’s journey from Australia to Heathrow. Bottom line…he’ll arrive next Monday morning, spend the week in Newquay and return to London on the Saturday. After checking all is well in Newquay, I go to take a shower. Sam Sparro starts shrieking about Black and Gold again, and I turn my phone to silent…again. If I can’t hear it ring, then I won’t be tempted to answer the thing.

After my shower, I fall into bed and I’m asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

‘Wake up sleepy head!’ Kate’s shrill voice stabs at my eardrums. I roll over and look at my clock.

In a blind panic, I clamber out of bed and try to gain a bit of composure. It’s eight O f**king clock! I’ve slept for thirteen hours. Christ, I must have needed that.

‘Why didn’t you wake me?’ I yell as I hot foot it across the landing to the shower. I’ve got to be at The Life Building in an hour to meet Mikael’s PA.

‘I was asleep myself.’ Kate replies, all happy and fresh. Why is she so bright eyed and bushy tailed? I soon find out when I collide with Sam’s half n**ed body coming out of the bathroom.

‘Easy chick!’ he laughs, steadying me with his hands.

I rip my eyes away from his fine physic. ‘Sorry!’ I blurt, highly embarrassed. Does the man always wander around women’s apartments semi clothed?

His infectious grin reveals his cute dimple as he steps to the side and bows. ‘It’s all yours.’

I dart in and slam the door to hide my red face, but I don’t have time to dwell on my embarrassment. I jump in the shower and wash my damp hair, peg it across the landing in my towel to the safety of my room and fly around in a frenzy getting ready. It’s now that I’m glad I had such a good sort out, finding everything I need at first look. I throw on my blush dress, nude heels and rough dry my hair before piling it up. A quick sweep of powder, blusher and mascara, and I’m all set. I’ve never got ready so quickly.

I take my phone off charge and clear the forty two missed calls from Justin before throwing it in my bag. Flying into the kitchen, I find Sam and Kate sat at the table. Has no one else got work today?

Sam looks up from his bowl of cornflakes and grins. ‘Seen Justin?’ he asks.

I halt, mid-frenzy, and look at him. He’s still grinning at me. ‘No, why are you asking me?’

‘Have you been in your pit all night?’ Kate asks, completely confused.

‘Yes, I got in from work about six thirty and collapsed into bed. And you can’t call it a pit anymore.’ I correct her proudly. ‘Why?’

I watch as Kate looks at Sam, and Sam looks at Kate, then they both look at me. They both look confused and slightly worried.

‘You’ve not seen or spoken to him?’ Sam asks, his spoon hovering in mid-air on its way to his mouth.

‘No!’ My tone is impatient. What’s the matter with them? I don’t plan on seeing or speaking to him ever again. ‘I’m not stitched to his hip.’ I spit harshly.

‘He rang me five times last night, looking for you,’ Kate explains.

‘Me ten!’ Sam interrupts.

Kate looks truly concerned. ‘We got in about eight and assumed you were still at work. He was frantic, Selena. We tried calling you.’

Oh, I’ve not got time for this. What does he think’s happened to me? The man is neurotic, and I’m certainly not his concern. ‘My phone was on silent. Anyway, as you can see, I’m alive and well so if he rings again you can tell him so.’ I huff shortly. ‘I’m going, I’m late.’ I turn to leave the kitchen.

‘When he stopped calling, I assumed you were with him.’ Kate calls to my back as I leave.

‘Well, I wasn’t.’ I shout on my way down the stairs.

I arrive at The Life Building bang of time, in a bit of a fluster, to meet a petite, blonde lady in the lobby. She’s middle aged and very pixie looking, with sharp features and cropped hair. Her plain black business suit does nothing for her pale complexion.

‘You must be Miss O’Shea,’ She holds her pasty hand out to me. ‘I’m Ingrid. Mikael advised you that I would be here, yes?’ Her Danish accent is very strong.

‘Ingrid, call me Selena, please.’ I take her hand, shaking it lightly. She looks so fragile.

She smiles and nods. ‘Selena, of course,’

‘Mikael called me yesterday to tell me he’s held up in Denmark.’

‘Yes, he is. I’ll give you the tour. Works are not quite finished so you’ll need to put these on.’ She hands me a yellow hard hat and hi-visibility vest.

I slip on the safety kit, while considering what I must look like in my lady-like, blush dress and this get up. I panic for a moment, worried that she might make me put on some steel toe cap boots, but she presses the button for the elevator and my worries disappear.

‘We’ll start in the penthouse. It’s very similar to the layout of Lusso.’ The elevator arrives and we step inside. ‘You’re familiar with Lusso, of course.’ She smiles, revealing a mouth full of straight teeth.

I like her. ‘Yes, I’m familiar with Lusso.’ I return her friendly smile. More familiar than you know! I snap a lid on my drifting thoughts immediately. I must not think about him. I must not think about him. I repeat the mantra all the way to the penthouse, while Ingrid explains the minor differences between Lusso and The Life Building. There are not many.

The elevator opens straight into the penthouse; this is one of the differences. Lusso has a Penthouse foyer. The underground parking is the other.

‘Here we are. After you, Selena,’

I take her direction, walking into a vastness I’m familiar with. The size of this Penthouse must be almost exact to Lusso. It looks bigger at the moment, standing an empty shell, but I recall Lusso feeling the same.

‘You can see we used oak here. All of the windows and doors are bespoke and made using sustainable wood. I’m sure Mikael has advised you of this part of the specification in the email he sent you.’ I glance at her. She must catch my blank expression because she laughs, shaking her head. ‘He didn’t mention it in his email?’

‘No,’ I reply, praying that I read it properly, and in full.

‘You’ll have to forgive him. He’s slightly sidetracked with his divorce.’

Divorce? Oh, is that what’s held him up in Denmark? I think it slightly inappropriate that she’s told me such a private part of Mikael’s personal life. Everyone is being so open and honest these days. Or am I just being closed and guarded?

‘Consider me advised.’ I smile.

Over the next few hours, Ingrid walks me through the entire building. I take photographs of the spaces, making notes en-route. The Life Building houses the same luxuries Lusso offers to its residents – a luxury health club, a twenty four hour concierge and the latest security systems. The list goes on. Mikael and his partner certainly know how to deliver on modern, luxury living. The views over Holland Park and the city are incredible.

We find ourselves back in the main foyer. ‘Thank you for the tour, Ingrid.’ I remove my fetching hat and vest.

‘You’re welcome, Selena. Do you have everything you need?’

‘Yes, I’ll wait to hear from Mikael.’

‘He said he would call you on Monday.’ she says as she shakes my hand.

We say our goodbyes, and I leave Ingrid and The Life Building, heading back to the office. I call my doctors surgery on my way; I need to replace my pills. Where they have gone is a bloody mystery. I get an appointment for four o’clock today, which is a relief. Not that I plan on having much sex anytime soon. I’ve had enough lately to see me through for a while.

‘Afternoon,’ I sing to Tom and Victoria as I walk into the office.

Tom frowns and glances at the clock. ‘Oppsie! I’m late for Mrs Baines. She’ll be having kittens!’ He jumps up from his desk, straightens his yellow and blue, stripy tie – which wouldn’t be so bad if he wasn’t sporting an orange shirt – and tweaks his blonde quiff. ‘I’ll be back after I’ve pacified the loopy old bird.’ he chants, collecting his man-bag and dancing out of the office.

‘Bye.’ I call, landing at my desk. ‘You okay, Victoria?’ I ask. She’s daydreaming. ‘Hello?’ I call.

‘Huh? Oh, sorry. I was miles away. What did you say?’

‘Are you okay?’ I prompt.

She smiles brightly, flicking her long blonde locks over her shoulder. ‘I couldn’t be better.’

Of course. I wonder if her good mood has something to do with a certain standoffish, smart suited man called Drew. I haven’t seen her since Saturday night, but from what I recall – before drunkenness rendered me stupid – she and Drew were looking rather friendly. Is everyone getting it on at the moment?

‘And why is that?’ I ask on a raised brow.

She giggles like a little girl. ‘I have a date with Drew on Friday night.’

I knew it, although I still can’t wrap my brain around ditsy Victoria and serious Drew. ‘Anywhere nice?’ I ask.

She shrugs. ‘He didn’t say. He just asked if he could take me out.’ Her mobile rings and she excuses herself by waving it at me.

I turn my attention to my computer, silencing my phone when it starts blurting Black and Gold. It’s becoming automatic to just reach over and press the button on the side without even looking. After it’s shouted at me three times on the bounce, I turn the sound off altogether. The man is a persistent pain in the arse.

‘I’m off,’ Victoria calls, getting up from her desk. ‘I’ll be back about four.’

‘I won’t see you. I’ve a doctor’s appointment at four.’

‘Oh?’ She glances over on her way out.

‘I lost my pills.’ I offer. She pulls a face that tells me she’s been there and done that. It makes me feel slightly better for being so careless.

I start filtering through my emails and take some copies of drawings to send to my contractors.

When it hits three o’clock, I go to make the coffee. Sally always does it, but I’m relieved to ease my eyes from my bright computer screen.

‘Selena?’ I hear Sally call me. I poke my head around the kitchen door, seeing her waving the office phone. ‘A man on the phone for you, he won’t say who he is.’

My heart jumps into my throat. I know damn well who it is. ‘Is he on hold?’

‘Yes, shall I put him through?’

‘No!’ I yell, and poor nervous Sally flinches. ‘I’m sorry. Tell him I’m out of the office.’

‘Oh, okay.’ She looks all wide eyed and confused as she pushes a button on the phone that will connect her back to Justin. ‘I’m sorry, Sir. Selena is out of the offi…’ She jumps a metre into the air, dropping the phone onto her desk with a loud clatter. She scrambles to pick it up again. ‘I…I…I’m…I’m…sor…sorry, Sir…’ She’s stuttering and stammering all over the place, a good indication that Justin is yelling down the phone at her. I feel riddled with guilt for putting her through this. ‘Sir, please…I…I assure you…she’s…she’s not here.’

I watch as she freaks out at her desk, looking at me wide eyed and stunned as she’s verbally assaulted by Mr Neurotic. I smile apologetically. I’ll buy her some flowers.

She drops the phone back into the cradle, looking at me in shock. ‘Who was that?’ she asks. She’s going to cry.

‘Sally, I’m so sorry.’ I quickly grab the coffees from the kitchen – the only peace offering I can lay my hands on at the moment – and drop Patrick’s on his desk, exiting sharply before he can strike up a conversation. I take Sally’s coffee to her desk and place it on her coaster. ‘I’m so sorry.’ I hope I sound as guilty as I feel.

Sally blows out a long exasperated breath. ‘Someone needs a cuddle!’ She starts giggling.

I’m completely stunned on the spot. I was expecting tears and a nervous breakdown. Instead, dull as dish water Sally has just cracked a joke. I look at the mousey, plain Jane chuckling, and I start laughing too – a proper bend over, tears in my eyes, stomach cramping belly laugh. It feels so good. Sally joins me in my hysteria as we both fall apart all over the office.

‘What’s going on?’ Patrick’s voice calls from his desk.

I wave my hand in the air to him and he rolls his eyes, returning to his computer on an exasperated head shake. I couldn’t tell him, even if I was in a fit state to talk. I leave Sally crying and head for the toilet to sort myself out. Oh, that feels so good. I’ve seen Sally in a whole new light. I like sarcastic Sally.

When I’ve gathered myself together and dabbed my running mascara, I let Patrick know that I’m off for a doctor’s appointment. ‘I’m sorry, Sally, I can’t look at you!’ I splutter as I pass her desk and leave the office, hearing her laughing again. I compose myself and make my way to the tube.

Chapter 23

After receiving a lecture about carelessness from Doctor Monroe, our life-long family doctor, she gave me a prescription for my pills and sent me on my way, but not before checking how Mum and Dad are getting on in Newquay. With Dad’s health being the main reason for their winding down from the big city, she was keen to hear all is well.

I stop off at the chemist on the way home, rolling in the door at just before six. It makes a change to be home so early. I’m surprised to find Kate isn’t home, but Margo is parked up outside so she’s not delivering cakes.

I shower, change into my shorts and vest, and blow-dry my hair roughly. When I’m done, I grab my phone from my bag and roll my eyes at the twenty missed calls and, rather sensibly, delete the five texts without reading them. It starts silently flashing in my hand as I walk through to the kitchen. Won’t the man just give up? He’s clearly not use to rejection, and he clearly doesn’t like it.

My wine bottle clatters against my glass, mid-pour, when I jump out of my skin at an almighty bang on the front door.

‘Selena!’

‘Oh God,’ I mutter to myself.

‘Selena!’ he roars, banging again.

I hurry through to the lounge, looking out of the blind to see Justin staring up at the window. He looks frantic. What’s wrong with that man? He can stay out there all night, if he likes, I’m not answering the door. Being face to face with him will be a huge mistake. I watch as he holds his phone to his ear and mine starts flashing in my hand again. I reject it and look on as he glances at his phone in disbelief.

‘Selena! Answer the f**king door!’

‘No.’ I snap, watching him pace down the path to the road. I nearly have heart failure when I spot Sam pull up in his Porsche. Kate gets out.

Shit!

She approaches Justin, who’s waving his arms around like a loon, as Sam joins them on the pavement and rubs his shoulder in a gesture of comfort. They talk for a few moments before Kate leads them up the path to the front door.

‘No, Kate!’ I shout at the window. ‘Fuck, f**k, f**k, f**k!’ That’s it, our friendship is over!

I stand like a complete lemon in the lounge, hearing the front door swing open, smashing against the wall behind it, and then the stamping of heavy feet flying up the stairs. He crashes through the lounge door, the anger on his face turning to relief before reverting back to pure fury again. His grey suit looks perfectly smooth and unaffected, unlike his disheveled hair and sweaty brow.

‘Where the FUCK have you been?’ He blasts me with his shout, his breath, literally, breezing past my ears. ‘I’ve been pulling my f**king hair out!’

Yes, I can see that.

I stand staring at him, completely dumb struck. I have no idea what to say. Is he under some sort of illusion that I’m answerable to him? Kate and Sam approach behind him, all quiet and apprehensive. I look at Kate, shaking my head. I’m dying to ask her if she likes this Justin.

‘We’re just gonna pop down The Cock for a drink.’ Sam says quietly, grabbing Kate’s hand and pulling her down the landing. She doesn’t try to stop him. I watch them leave, mentally cursing their chicken arses for leaving me alone to deal with crazy man here.

He seems to take a few calming breaths, looking up at the ceiling in weariness, before returning his blazing gaze to mine. It penetrates me deeply. ‘Does someone need a reminder?’

I think I must have a carpet burn on my chin because my jaw has just plummeted to the rug. It really is all about sex to him. His self-assuredness is shocking and his opinion of me inexcusable.

‘No!’ I shout, steaming past him into the kitchen. I need that drink! I hear him follow me, watching as I chuck my phone on the worktop and yank the bottle of wine up. ‘You’re a complete bastard!’ I yell, pouring my wine with shaky hands. I’m boiling mad. I swing around and fire him my most evil look. He actually winces slightly, which fills me with immense satisfaction. ‘You’ve got what you wanted. So have I. Let’s not f**k about.’ I spit. I haven’t got what I wanted, not in the least bit, but I ignore the voice in my head screaming that at me. I need to stop this before I get dragged any further into the intensity that is Justin Ward.

‘Watch your f**king mouth!’ he shouts. ‘What are you talking about? I haven’t got what I wanted.’

‘You want more?’ I quickly swig my wine. ‘Well, I don’t, so stop hounding me, Justin. And stop shouting at me!’ I go for brutality, but I fear I probably sound pretty pathetic in my attempt. Something’s got to work. I take another huge gulp of my wine, jumping when it’s swiped from my hand and tossed in the sink. I wince at the shattering of glass that cracks through the air.

‘You don’t have to drink like a f**king fifteen year old.’ he yells.

My fists ball at my sides as I use all of my willpower to calm myself down. ‘Get out!’ I scream. My attempts are failing miserably. I’m becoming frantic – desperate.

I shrink when he roars in frustration, throwing his fist into the kitchen door, leaving a huge dent in the wood.

Oh, shit! I stand there, eyes bulging and lips sealed firmly shut as I watch his fierce reaction to my rejection. He turns to face me, shaking his hand a little, and looks me square in the eyes, his sludgy stare attacking me.

Fuck me, that’s gotta hurt. I’m about to go to the freezer to get some ice, but he starts to stalk towards me. I brace my hands behind me on the edge of the worktop and watch him gain on me until we are front to front. He leans forward, placing his hands over mine, effectively trapping me.

Breathing heavily in my face, he scowls at me, and then smashes his lips onto my mouth. My breath is literally sucked out of me as I writher under him, trying to free myself. What’s he doing? Actually, I know exactly what he’s doing. He’s going to hit me with a reminder f**k. I’m so screwed.

He pushes his lips harder against mine, but I don’t accept his kiss. I keep telling myself that this is bad, so bloody wrong. I’m going to hurt even more if I accept this, I know I will. I half-heartedly try to free myself, but he growls low in his throat, his hands tightening on mine. I’m not going anywhere. My desperate attempts to halt this are being seriously hindered by his sheer determination to break me down.

His tongue skims my bottom lip as I continue to deny him access, shuddering in an attempt to fight off the reactions he’s drawing from me. I know if he gains entry, it will be game over, so I stubbornly keep my lips locked shut while mentally pleading for him to give up.

When he releases one of my hands, I instantly grab his bicep to push him away, but it’s no good. He’s a powerhouse of a man and a determined one at that. He’s not affected in the slightest by my meager attempts to free myself.

He grabs my hip tightly and I jerk under him, but I’m pressed back into the worktop. I’m completely trapped, but I still defiantly reject his kiss, keeping my lips shut tight. I turn my head away when he eases up a bit.

‘Stubborn woman.’ he mutters, pressing his lips against my neck, licking and nibbling his way down to the hollow, circling long, wet strokes before working his way up to my ear and biting at my lobe.

I squeeze my eyes shut, pleading with my self-control to resist his irresistible touch. My fingernails are digging into his tense upper arm and my lips are locked shut for fear of letting out a cry of pleasure. His hand leaves my hip and moves slowly across my stomach, skimming the waistband of my shorts.

‘Please. Please, stop.’ I cry.

‘You stop, Selena. Just stop.’ Slipping his index finger under the material, he traces left to right, in slow, soft, measured strokes while continuing the invasion of his lips on my ear and neck. I could cry with frustration.

The warm friction buckles my knees, sending violent quivers over my entire body. I hear him laugh lightly, deep at the back of his throat, sending vibrations down my spine and a slow steady beat to my core. I clamp my thighs together, moving my hand from his arm to his chest and pushing in total vain. I don’t even know why I’m bothering now. I’m a heartbeat away from surrendering to him. He’s persistently pursuing me in lust, and I’ve fallen hard for him – really hard. My head feels like it could explode, and I’m not sure if it’ll be in pleasure or confusion. I’m so bloody confused.

When his lips reach mine again, I still resist, trying my hardest to block it all out. My poor brain is being thrown a million different commands – fight him; resist him; accept him; kiss him; knee him in the bollocks.

And then his hand is delving into my knickers, his fingers separating me, causing electricity to spark violently through me. He brushes over my clitoris, so very gently. I jerk, my mouth opens and I let out a cry of pleasure. He takes full advantage of my lapse in willpower, thrusting his tongue into my mouth, exploring and lapping every corner, his thumb slowly circling my burning core. I kiss him back.

‘Let my hand go.’ I pant, flexing the muscles in my arm.

He must know that he’s got me because my hand is released on a moan and he’s griping the nape of my neck immediately. I throw my arms around his neck to pull him closer to me – just like that.

His h*ps thrust against his hand, increasing the pressure of his assault on my core and his fingers enter me. My muscles grip him hard. I moan.

He pulls away from me, gasping and heaving, looking at me through his hooded, glazed eyes. ‘I thought so.’ he says, his husky tone pushing my building orgasm higher.

He crashes his lips back on mine, and I accept it - all of it. Once again, I’m a slave to this beautiful, neurotic man. My willpower has diminished and my weaknesses have been weakened.

I run my hands across his suited back, my fingers delving into his dirty blonde hair as he continues his excruciatingly slow, controlled drives with his fingers. I could cry with pleasure and frustration, but how can I resist this? I’ll never escape him.

Now that I’ve stopped fighting him, his tongue is working my mouth at a calmer, steadier rate. The hotness of our combined mouths feels natural and absolute. My thighs tighten with the building cl**ax threatening to attack me from every direction, and my grip of his hair increases. He gets the message, hardening his kiss, the strokes of his fingers and thumb becoming firmer as I’m bulldozed by pleasure and rocketed skyward. My mind goes blank, except for the bliss of release riding through me. I bite his lip. He groans. Holy f**king shit!

His strokes ease up, and I release his lip from my clenched teeth. I think I can taste blood, but my eyes won’t open to confirm it. It would serve him right.

‘Remember yet?’ he whispers softly against my lips. I sigh, pulling my heavy eyes open to meet his green gaze. I don’t answer him; he knows the answer to that question. But as always, I never forgot. He doesn’t demand an answer. He just leans down, dropping a gentle kiss on my mouth, my tongue sweeping across his bottom lip, licking away the small drop of blood that I’ve drawn.

‘I’ve made you bleed.’

‘Savage.’ he breathes, pulling his fingers slowly out of me and sliding them into my mouth. He watches me closely as I run my tongue over them, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He’s got want he wants again – me, surrendering to him.

I’m lifted onto the worktop. ‘Why do you keep running away from me?’ His eyes search mine as he rests his hands on either side of my thighs, bending his body, leaning in.

I drop my head. I can’t look at him. What can I tell him? That I’ve fallen in love with him? Perhaps I should – he might freak out and leave me alone. I shrug instead.

He places his index finger under my chin and tips my head back up so I’m forced to confront his achingly handsome face.

He raises his eyebrows at me expectantly. ‘Talk to me, baby.’

‘I don’t know.’

He rolls his eyes and slaps my hand away from the piece of hair I’m coiling around my finger. ‘You’re a shit liar, Selena.’

‘I know.’ I huff. I’ve got to sort that bad habit out quickly.

‘Tell me, now.’ he demands softly.

I sigh. ‘You’re distracting me. I don’t want to get hurt.’ There, I’m not lying. That’s true. I just left out the minor, major detail of my feelings for him.

I look at him as he chews his bottom lip, the cogs of his mind going into overdrive. He doesn’t know what to say to that. I’m so glad I didn’t hit him with the love bomb.

‘I see.’ he says flatly. Is that it? I see? ‘I’m a distraction?’ he asks.

‘Yes.’ I scowl. The worst kind!

He pouts. ‘I like distracting you.’

‘I like you distracting me too.’ I mumble sulkily. I notice he ignores the hurt comment, homing straight in on the distraction tactics.

‘What am I distracting you from?’

‘Being sensible,’ I reply quietly. The intoxicating affect he has on my body is setting deeper into my mindset. He said he would make me need him, and he’s keeping true to his word.

He smiles, completely satisfied, his eyes dark and promising again. ‘I’m going to distract you some more now. We need to make friends.’ His low voice is sparking off my desire for him all over again as he grabs me under my bum and slides me off of the worktop to straddle his waist.

‘Didn’t we just make friends?’

‘Not properly. We need to make friends properly. It’s the sensible thing to do. We don’t run anymore, Selena.’

I smile and wrap my arms around his back as he walks us out of the kitchen, into my bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. He places me on the end of the bed, pulling my vest up over my head, my bra-free br**sts springing free. He smiles, looking down into my eyes and tossing my vest on the floor. He starts pulling at the waist band of my shorts, encouraging me to lift my bum so he can draw them down my legs, taking my knickers with them.

‘Stay there.’ he orders, reaching up and pulling at his tie. Sparks of anticipation ricochet all around my body as I watch him slowly undress in front of me. His jacket follows his tie, then he slowly unbuttons his shirt.

Hurry up! The flex of his ripped chest has me virtually dribbling as he stands before me, taking painfully long to undress. My eyes are automatically drawn to the sight of his scar. I’m desperate to know where it came from.

‘Look at me, Selena.’

My eyes fly straight to his, those sludgy pools of green watching me carefully as he removes his shoes, socks and trousers, before finally dragging his boxers down his legs. His erection springs free. It’s at eye level to me. If I reach forward and open my mouth, I’ll have the upper hand. That would make a nice change. I glance up at him, catching a wicked grin and blazing eyes.

‘I’m desperate to be inside you after looking for you for the last two days,’ he says darkly. ‘I’ll look forward to f**king your mouth later. You owe me.’

A powerful thud crashes into my core as he leans down and curls his arm around my waist before crawling up the bed above me and placing me down gently beneath him. My thighs are spread by his knee, and he cradles himself between them, resting his forearms on either side of my head as he looks down at me with soft eyes. I could weep.

Any plans I had of walking away before it’s too late are totally obliterated. It’s already too late, and his determination to have me, as and when he pleases, is not doing me any favours.

‘You won’t run away from me again.’ he says softly but firmly.

I know I have to answer this. I shake my head and reach up to his shoulders.

‘You need to answer me, Selena.’ he whispers. I feel the broad head of his erection pushing at my entrance, causing a ridiculous amount of heat to plague me.

‘I won’t.’ I confirm.

He nods, holding my gaze as he slowly draws back and drives forward, plunging deeply into me. I moan and adjust my grip on his shoulders, shifting under him. The fullness is incredible, and I’ve fast become use to him. He blows out a long controlled breath of air. The concentration frown flickering across his brow is shiny with sweat and heavy on his forehead.

I resist the urge to contract around him – he needs a moment. His eyes close, his long lashes fanning, his head dropped to mine as he battles to compose his erratic breathing. I wait patiently for him to sort himself out, running my hands up and down his firm upper arms, more than happy to lay here looking at this beautiful, neurotic man so closely. He knows I need gentle Justin right now.

After a few moments, he gathers himself together and lifts his head back up to look at me. My heart constricts in my chest. I’m so in love with this man.

‘This is what happens when you deny me. Don’t do it again.’ He lifts his upper body to brace his arms, then lazily drags back and gradually drives forward.

I purr. Oh, good God. He repeats the delectable move, over and over, watching me the entire time.

‘You need to think about this, Selena. When you’re tempted to run again, think about how you feel right now. Think about me.’

‘Yes.’ I breathe, struggling to dampen down a fast buildup of pressure. I want to carry on like this forever. I want to feel like this forever. This is exactly why I’ve been avoiding him. I’m weak and feeble in my attempts to brush him off. Or is he just determined? Well, either way, I always end up at square one again…giving myself to this man.

I rock my h*ps up to meet his every thrust, and he lowers his mouth to mine, taking my lips leisurely and lazily, matching his blazing hip rhythm with his tongue.

I whimper, digging my nails into his arms. I’ve got to stop marking him and drawing blood. The poor man is mistreated almost every time. He drives slowly forward, circles deeply and withdraws lazily, time and time again. I can’t hold out for much longer. How does he do this to me?

‘Does that feel good?’ he whispers.

‘Too good,’ I gasp on a lazy grind.

‘It does. Are you there, lady?’ he asks against my lips.

I nip his tongue. ‘I’m there.’

‘I’ve got you, baby. Let it go.’

The racking shudder that courses through my body has me clenched around Justin’s arousal, shaking wildly against him as I moan my release into his mouth. The last, deep thrust, followed by a jerk and hot sensation flooding me, signals Justin’s release. He holds himself deep and clenches his eyes shut, while paying loving attention to my mouth, moaning long and low. The pulsating of him is triggering my muscles to tense around him, all in time to his throbs. I’m draining him dry.

‘God, I’ve missed you.’ he whispers, burying his face in the crook of my neck and nuzzling before rolling onto his back. He holds his arm up, and I move into his warm, firm chest, resting my cheek on his pec. I’m so screwed – totally f**king screwed.

‘I love sleepy sex with you.’ I muse dreamily.

‘That wasn’t sleep sex, baby.’ He brushes my hair from my face with his spare hand.

It wasn’t? ‘What was is then?’

He kisses my forehead gently. ‘That was catching up sex.’

Oh, a new one. ‘I like catching up sex then.’

‘Don’t like it too much. It won’t happen very often.’

A stab of disappointment pierces me. ‘Why?’

‘Because, lady, you won’t be running away from me again, and I don’t plan on being away from you very often either.’ He inhales in my hair. ‘If ever,’

I smile to myself, throwing my leg over his thighs. He clasps my knee, rubbing circles over my skin with his thumb, while I trace my fingers across the surface of his scar. I’m compelled to know how he got it. He hasn’t mentioned it, except to warn me off asking, but it’s not like it can be overlooked. I need to know more about him.

‘How did this happen?’ I ask as I follow the line around to his side.

He inhales tiredly. ‘How did what happen, Selena?’ His words leave no room for movement or interrogation on the matter. He doesn’t want to talk about it.

‘Nothing,’ I whisper softly, making a mental note not to ask again.

‘What are you doing tomorrow?’ he asks in a blatant change of subject tactic.

‘It’s Wednesday, I’m working.’

‘Take the day off.’

‘What, just like that?’

I feel him shrug. ‘Yes, you owe me two days.’

He makes everything sound so straight forward. It’s okay for him, with his own business and no one to answer to. I, on the other hand, have clients, a boss and a pile of work to do.

‘I have too much to do. Besides, you abandoned me for four days.’ I remind him. He still hasn’t explained himself. Will he now?

‘Come with me now then.’ He squeezes me in a little bit more. I notice I get nothing of an explanation.

‘Where?’

‘I’ve got to shoot over to The Manor, sort a few things out with John. You can have some dinner while you wait for me.’

Not a chance! I’m not going to The Manor, I’m not waiting for him in the restaurant while he sees to business and I’m not risking bumping into old pouty lips.

‘I think I’ll stay here, I don’t want to get in your way.’ I say quietly, hoping he doesn’t push this. Another standoff with Sarah will not be a good way to end the day, the devious, interfering cow. What has Justin’s personal life got to do with her?

I’m rolled onto my back with my wrists pinned to the side of my head as Justin looms over me. ‘You won’t ever be in my way.’ He rests his lips between my br**sts and trails kisses across to my nipple. ‘You’ll come.’

My nipple lengthens under his gentle, swirling tongue, my breathing fluttering. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’ I force the words through pants.

His teeth clamp lightly onto my nipple as he looks up at me, grinning. ‘Hmmm, sense f**k?’ he offers, through a mouth full of breast.

Oh, no. I’ll take the f**k, but I’m still not going to The Manor. Although, if he starts f**king his so called sense into me, then I’m screwed in more than one way. He can make me say anything. Well, he can do that pretty much all of the time, but especially during a sense f**k.

I hear the front door crash open and the laughter of Kate and Sam coming up the stairs. I look down at Justin still clamped around my nipple, the frustration marring his face having me secretly pleased. While I’d take a sense f**k anytime, the sense he aims on f**king into me, on this particular occasion, makes no sense at all. Why would I want to set myself up for a verbal spar with Sarah?

He huffs childishly, releasing my nipple. ‘I don’t suppose you can keep your mouth shut while I f**k some sense into you?’

I raise my eyebrows. He knows that’s impossible.

‘For f**ks sake.’ he grumbles, pushing himself up, making a point of brushing his knee up the inside of my thigh and over my moist centre. The friction has me wanting to yank him back down to me. I don’t want him to go. He leans down and kisses me hard and purposefully. ‘I’ve got to go. When I call you tomorrow, you’ll answer the phone.’

‘I will.’ I confirm obediently. God help me if I don’t.

He smiles darkly and grabs my hip. I squeal like a little girl and flip myself onto my front. Then I feel the sting of his palm meeting my backside.

‘Ouch!’

‘Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, lady.’ The bed shifts as he gets up.

When I turn over, his shirt is on his back and he’s working the buttons. ‘Will Sarah be at The Manor?’ I blurt, before my brain filters the stupid question.

He pauses briefly before picking up his boxers and stepping into them. ‘I hope so, she works for me.’

What? ‘You said she was a friend.’ I sound whinny. I mentally slap myself for it.

He frowns. ‘Yes, she’s a friend and she works for me.’

Marvelous. I roll out of bed and find my vest and shorts. No wonder she’s always loitering about. Should I tell him that she’s warned me off? No, he probably wouldn’t appreciate immature, petty jealousies. God, I hate that woman. I yank my vest and shorts on, and turn to find Justin pulling his suit jacket on. He’s watching me thoughtfully. Does he know what I’m thinking?

‘Are you going to put some clothes on?’ he asks, looking me up and down.

I look down at my shorts and vest combo and back up to him. His eyebrows are raised. ‘I’m at home.’

‘Yes, and Sam’s out there.’

‘Sam doesn’t seem to think anything of walking around in his pants. At least I’m covered.’

‘Sam’s an exhibitionist.’ he grumbles, walking over to my wardrobe and flicking through the rails. ‘Here, put this on.’ He hands me a chunky knit, oversized, cream jumper.

‘No!’ I splutter in disgust. I’ll pass out of overheating!

He thrusts it closer to me with a determined, dirty look. ‘Put the jumper on.’

‘No.’ I say it slowly and concisely. He’s not dictating my wardrobe, especially not when I’m at home. I snatch the jumper from him and throw it on the bed, watching as he follows its path through the air. He looks at it sprawled on the bed, then slowly returns his eyes to mine. His teeth are going ten to the dozen, chewing his bottom lip.

‘Three,’ he grates.

My eyes widen. ‘Are you winding me up?’

He ignores me. ‘Two,’

I still don’t know what happens at zero, but it looks like I’m going to find out. ‘I’m not putting the jumper on.’

‘One,’ His lips press into a straight line of displeasure.

‘Do what you like, Justin. I’m not putting that jumper on.’

His eyes narrow. ‘Zero,’

We stand opposite each other, him with an expression of genuine fury mixed with a bit of delight, and me wondering what the hell he’s going to do now that he’s reached zero. I scan the room, looking for an escape, but there’s only one, and I have to get past Justin to make it there. What are the chances of that?

He shakes his head, exhaling a long, lung full of air, and then he makes his move. I dart across the bed to escape, getting caught up in the mountain of sheets and squealing when I feel his warm palm wrap around my ankle. He yanks me across the bed.

‘Justin!’ I cry as he flips me over and straddles me, pinning my arms under his knees. ‘Get off!’ I blow my hair out of my face, finding him looking down at me, his face deadly serious.

‘Let’s clear something up.’ He removes his jacket, throws it on the bed and picks up the jumper. ‘If you do what you’re told, our lives will be a lot easier. All this…’ He strokes his palms over my torso and pinches my ni**les through my vest. I yelp. ‘is for my eyes only.’ He moves his hands behind him and digs his fingers into the hollow above my h*ps bone.

‘NO!’ I scream. ‘Please, no!’ I start laughing. Oh God, I’ll pee myself!

He continues with the digs and squeezes, sending me on a wild bucking mission. I can’t breathe. I’m between laughter and crying at the torturous assault, my bladder set to burst.

‘Justin, I need the toilet!’ I half laugh, half cry. All I’m aware of is the agonising suffering he’s inflicting on me, the cruel bastard. And all because I won’t put a stupid jumper on?

‘That’s better.’ I hear him say through my bucking frenzy. I feel my hair being brushed away from my face, then his lips pressed hard on mine. ‘You could have saved us both a lot of trouble if you’d have just put…the…fucking…jumper…on.’

I look up at him and scowl as he lifts his heavy weight from me and puts his jacket back on. I sit up, finding I’m wearing the stupid jumper. How did he manage that? I turn my fierceness onto him. He’s regarding me intently, not a hint of amusement on his face.

‘I’ll just take it off.’ I spit.

‘No, you won’t.’ he assures me, and he’s probably right.

I get off the bed, heading for the bathroom in the ridiculous jumper. ‘You’re an unreasonable arse.’ I mutter, slamming the door behind me.

I go for a wee and make a mental note, never to let him get to zero again. That was my worst nightmare. I rub my poor abused hips, the sensitive flesh above my bones still tingling.

When I’m done, I find Justin in the kitchen with Sam and Kate, who both run their eyes over my jumper clad body. I shrug, pouring myself another wine.

‘Made up?’ Kate asks, perching on Sam’s lap. He separates his thighs, causing Kate to slip between his legs on a squeal. She playfully slaps him before looking at me for an answer.

‘No,’ I mutter, throwing Justin a disgruntled look. ‘And if you’d like to know who has put a hole in your kitchen door, look no further.’ I point my glass at Justin. ‘He also smashed your wine glass.’ I add, like the pathetic snitch I am.

I watch as Justin reaches in his pockets, palms off a pile of twenties and slaps them on the table in front of Kate. ‘Let me know if it’s anymore.’ he says, keeping his eyes firmly on me. I look down at the table. There must be at least five hundred quid there. And I notice he didn’t apologise, the arrogant arse.

Kate shrugs and scoops the money up. ‘That should cover it.’

Justin shoves his hands back in his pockets, saunters over to me and bends so his face is level with mine. ‘I like your jumper.’

‘Fuck off.’ I mouth, before taking a huge swig of wine.

He grins, kissing my nose. ‘Mouth,’ he warns. He grasps the back of my head, bunching my hair in his fist and pulls me forward so we’re nose to nose. ‘Don’t drink too much.’ he orders, and then lands me with a searing hot kiss. I try to resist…a little.

When I’m free from his lips and I’ve regained my senses, I scoff, taking another glug.

He shakes his head mildly, inhaling deeply, before turning away from me. ‘My work here is done.’ he says smugly as he leaves.

‘Bye.’ Kate sings on a laugh. I throw her a filthy look.

‘My man,’ Sam holds his hand up on a grin. ‘Selena, where’s the love?’

‘Up his arse!’ I snap, discarding my wine glass and collecting my phone before storming out of the kitchen, back to my room. The man is impossible. I hear Sam and Kate laughing as I crawl into bed with my jumper on.

I’m pretending the only reason I’m pissed is because Justin has just manhandled me into a jumper. The fact that he’s on his way to The Manor, and a certain pouty lipped witch is sure be there, has nothing to do with my bad mood – nothing at all.

As I’m dozing off, my phone starts singing The Stone Roses, This is the One. I roll my eyes, reaching for it from my bedside table. I need to teach that man some phone manners.

‘What?’ I snap.

‘Who do you think you’re talking to, lady?’

‘An unreasonable arse!’

‘I’ll ignore that. Have you still got the jumper on?’

I want to say no. ‘Yes.’ I grumble. Would he come back and torture me some more if I did say no? ‘Is that all you rang for?’

‘No, I wanted to hear your voice.’ he says softly. ‘I’m having Selena withdrawal.’

I melt a little on a sigh. He can be so domineering, bossy and unreasonable, and in the next breath, completely soppy and lovely. ‘You’ve been messing with my phone again.’ I accuse.

‘You’re not going to hear me call if it’s on silent, are you?’

‘No, but how did you know it was on silent?’ I ask, although I already know. I need to put a PIN lock on it. ‘Anyway, it’s rude. And you need to apologise to Sally.’

‘I’m sorry. Who’s Sally?’

‘No, you’re not. Sally is the waif like creature in my office who you verbally attacked.’

‘Oh, I’ll take care of it. Make sure you dream of me.’

I smile. ‘I will. Goodnight.’

‘Oh, Selena?’

‘What?’

‘You’re the one, baby.’ He hangs up, and my heart jumps up into my throat. What is the one? Does he mean what I think he means? I start chewing my thumb nail and drift off to sleep considering his coded statement.

Am I The One?

Is he The One?

Oh, hell. I really want him to be.

Chapter 24

I sit at my desk in a complete daydream, my mind racing with thoughts of The One and f**kings of various degrees. If – in my perfect little world – I end up in a relationship with Justin, would this be how it is all of the time? Justin making his commands and me who obeys? It’s that or receiving some sort of f**k, or being subjected to some kind of countdown and torture until I relent, or he manhandles me into complying. I’m not denying the certain element of fun in the f**king side of things, but there has to be give and take. And I’m not sure Justin knows how to give – unless it’s one of his varying degrees of f**king. He’s so good at it, though. I bristle when I conclude that it is, undoubtedly, because he’s had plenty of practice. My pencil snaps in my hand. What? I look at the splintered wood in my grasp. Oh…dear.

‘Selena, you’re here early.’ Sally walks into the office, and I immediately giggle to myself. I saw Sally in a different light yesterday.

‘Yes, I woke up early.’ I say, wanting to add that it’s because a neurotic arse made me wear a winter jumper in bed, causing me to wake up in a pool of sweat.

She settles herself at her desk. ‘I tried calling you yesterday after you left.’

‘You did?’ I frown, but then realise that I probably cleared Sally’s missed call with the dozens of others from Justin.

‘Yes, that angry man came into the office shortly after you left.’

‘He did?’ I should have known.

‘He did. And his mood had not improved.’ she says dryly.

I can imagine. I smile. ‘Did you give him a cuddle?’

Sally snorts, flopping back in her chair in another fit of laughter. I join her, laughing helplessly as I watch Sal fall apart all over her desk.

Patrick walks in and looks at both of us in exasperation before making his way to his own office, shutting the door behind him.

Oh, shit! ‘Was Patrick here?’ I ask.

She takes her glasses off and starts cleaning them with the hem of her brown, polyester blouse. ‘What? When the lunatic came in? No, he was collecting Irene from the train station.’