#look at him all snazzy and unemployed

[emotionally-charged-arson]

Dr. Hans Jürgen Kürsch, former Associate Professor (Celestial Cartography and Interstellar Astrophysics) and Head of the Department of Astronomy at Alphan Central University

6” x 8”, alcohol markers and fineliners. For @ay-miphae ‘s character chain. 💫

[cash-legacy]

⚲ Lakeview Library, Copperdale | 9:32 AM

There is a great deal of information one can access with the combination of an unmonitored personal laptop and a library card. Today, Aphrodite was making use of the latter.

She knew the body wasn't Valentine's, she was certain of it. But it had to be someone's body. And a recent someone.

So she hiked out to the library on foot. No car - and no license, either. She was working on it. Totally working on it. Just had more important priorities, like solving her brother's not-murder.

One thing you can find at libraries that's a bit harder to access at home - newspaper archives. Thousands of them. Aphrodite scrubbed through as many local papers as she could, as well as papers from other areas around the National Park, searching for reports of missing people.

The room was chilly, in the library's basement. The air was musty, and the shelves of archived books behind her gave off that pleasant old-paper smell. Aphrodite could have happily spent hours here, but today, she didn't need to.

"Bingo," Aphrodite said softly. "Hello, Not-Valentine."

Maurice Winn, disappeared from a camping trip with his friends the night Valentine "died." Similar height, similar hair, and strikingly similar features. This was her corpse. Had to be.

Aphrodite copied down his parents' address - or, parent's. Single mother, it seemed like. Edith Winn. They were out in the cove. Too far for Aphrodite to walk, and the bus route was awful. So, out came her phone.

Aphrodite: oi Aphrodite: feel like skipping class? Aphrodite: need a ride Aphrodite: will pay for gas Kareem: bet Kareem: wya Aphrodite: library Kareem: b there in 20

Kareem wasn't her friend, exactly. Aphrodite didn't have friends, and neither did he. He was too cool for them, and Aphrodite wasn't cool enough. But she was in the rare position of being a rich, unemployed High School dropout, which gave her a fair amount of disposable time and income. Both of which Kareem appreciated. He drove her, she paid, everyone was happy.

Today, however, the car Kareem drove up in was not his battered Gen 1 Oldsmobile, but something slick and fancy.

"Nice whip, dude!" Aphrodite called out from the library balcony, where she'd been waiting for him to arrive. It had taken him 23 minutes. Not 20. Betrayal on all sides. "Who'd you steal it from? My dad?"

"Go to hell. It's my brother's. Fairuz has a doctor's appointment right now, Inas took my car."

"How the fuck does a librarian afford a car like that?"

"You don't wanna know."

Aphrodite laughed, hopped over the balcony's edge, and made her way over to the snazzy vehicle.

"Where to this time?" Kareem asked, pushing the passenger side door open for her.

"LaSuli Point. In the Cove."

"What, we're not going to get ice cream?"

"We'll get ice cream afterwards. I've got shit to do."

"Since fucking when? You're sixteen and you have no job."

"I found a lead, Kareem."

"This again."

"I'm serious!" Aphrodite said, clambering out of the car. It was an uninspiring little house - barely more than a shack. Nice views, though. "It's a real lead. You'll see. He looks more like Valentine's corpse than Valentine does."

"What, whoever lives here?"

"You'll see!"

Aphrodite trotted up to the front door, and gave it a perfunctory knock, silently rehearsing her speech: Hello Ms. Winn, I know this sounds crazy but I think I know what happened to you son. Or maybe, Hello Ms. Winn, I'm here about your son. Do you know if-

"The door is unlocked," A woman called from within. "Come inside."

"Who the hell leaves their front door unlocked?" Aphrodite whispered to Kareem, before nudging her way inside. "Fucking weird."

"I'm staying outside. Have fun getting murdered."

"I'm in the back bedroom," The woman called out again. Her voice was strained.

Aphrodite tiptoed inside, and peered around. It was a tiny room, and clearly in the process of being packed up - boxes sat around, and the walls were starkly bare.

"Are you Ms. Winn?" Aphrodite asked.

"I am." The woman sat on the edge of the bed. Presumably, Maurice Winn's. "Who are you?"

"Uh-" All Aphrodite's nice, prepared speeches crumbled to pieces. "I'm Aphrodite. My brother was murdered? Except, he's not dead. And I think your son was the one who was murdered? It was the same day, and they look really similar - but I saw the body, and it looked like your kid, and I thought..." She trailed off, and cleared her throat. Nice going, Cash. Real slick. Need to work on that Charisma when you get home.

"I read some of the articles about your family," Edith said. She stood slowly, and straightened the covers on the bed. "I'm sorry for your loss. What can I do for you, Aphrodite?"

"Well-" Aphrodite paused. What could she do for her? She hadn't really thought this far ahead, frankly.

"I was wondering if you could tell me about the trip he was on? Where he was staying? The poster I found just said Granite Falls. Do you know where he was camping? Do you have any photos of him? So I can, uh... compare." Compare to what? The corpse that was buried in the Newcrest cemetery? Aphrodite was a lot of things, but she wasn't a grave robber.

"Of course." Edith led her back out of Maurice's room, and into the cramped little living area.

She pointed Aphrodite to a picture that sat atop a dresser. Maurice, transparently. He did indeed look remarkably similar to Valentine. His hair was different, darker. But he had the same sharp jaw and hooked nose. They could have been siblings.

"He and his boys were going up to the lake, in mid July. To celebrate... 'halfway through summer,' I think. Something like that."

"The lake." Aphrodite nodded. "How long were they there? Do you know anything about their itinerary?"

"Just that weekend. They were camping near the lake, the night he disappeared. Or they were supposed to be."

"Did he show any signs of distress, before he left?" Aphrodite had watched enough cop shows that she knew how this part went. Inevitably, she was going to discover that this was a red herring, and the real answer was elsewhere. Best to cover her bases. "Any conflict with his friends? Struggles at home?"

"No." The woman's face stilled, and then she frowned. "I'm sorry for your loss, young lady, but I'd appreciate it if you went on your way. I've answered all sorts of questions like this for the police already."

"I'm not police. I'm just trying to find out what happened to my brother."

"Shouldn't you be in school?" Edith glanced at Kareem, who stood waiting out the door. "Go home. Let me mourn my son in peace." And Aphrodite was swiftly bustled out the door.

[shewhoeatssand]

Reading TG - Chapter 1

great book! love the uhhh the uh the the 🙍🏻☁️

“PLEASE!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!! 😖😖” “no 😈” thrilling way to introduce Rize (my queen, leader of our nation)

I LVOE HOW THE FIRST SIGHTING OF KANEKI (the protagonist of the WHOLE SERIES) HAS NONE OF HIS FEATURES DRAWN IN LIKE A BACKGROUND CHARACTER 😭

AWWWWW ITS MY BABY 😭😍🥰🥰💕 THE SCROMBLO 🥰🥰🥰💖🔥🌸🙏🙏🙏🙏

is he wearing a leather jacket here?? wow, snazzy, I thought he was too poor for that, so cool

“disguised as humans, huh..” *pictures 5 ghouls* THSI IS SO NOSTALGIC OMG THROWBACK WEDNESDAY FR

I like how Kaneki immediately says Hide would be dead if Kaneki was a ghoul, implying he’d eat him first

THEY THINK TOUKA IS CUTE!!

HIDE WTF THATS SO WEIRD, DON’T JUST GRAB WOMEN???

where is Rize’s bra

Kaneki immediately crawling in on himself upon seeing Rize 💕 he’s so embarrassed!!!!!!!!!!!!

I didn’t know Rize had a beauty spot under her left eye

awww he blushin

WDYM KANEKI IS BEING CREEPY, HIDE YOU JUST GRABBED AN INNOCENT GIRL AND GOT IN HER FACE TO ASK IF SHE HAD A BOYFRIEND???????

good luck, delusion boy!! (my sweet mimipoo meowmeow 🥰🥰)

“I’ll keep reading then” *doesn’t read*

ngl Takatsuki Sen’s 7th Work sounds like the most interesting shit ever and I would pay up to $400 for a chance to read it

I CANNOT BELIEVE KANEKI IS READING VIOLENT HORROR!!!! SO BABYGIRL HE’S SUCH A MEOWMEOW I AM EATING HIM RIGHT NOW MMMMFHGJGFHJFFJ PUDDING BOY 😋🍽️

AND HE’S SO EXCITED ABOUT IT TOO!!!!!!!!!! Y-Y-Y-YES I ABSOLUTELY LOVE TAKATSUKI SEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

he’s having the time of his life blabbering to this girl while Touka’s just side eyeing them ;v;

AWWWW ITS GONNA BE HIS FIRST DATE!!!!! HE’S SO EXCITED!!!!!!! HE GOT A GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!!!!!

my boy is shaking omg also who just says “my heart has been deeply touched!” in this day and age, nobody talks like this, he’s so unique

OMG HE HAS A WINDOW IN HIS BEDROOM AND A LIL TABLE AND A DESK WITH A COMPUTER (STAYING UP TO DATE WITH THE TIMES, PROBABLY BEING EXTREMELY ONLINE IN THE BOOK FORUMS, PROBABLY ON REDDIT) AND SO MANY BOOKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! how does he afford all these shelves and such a big room I thought he was poor

KANEKI IN HIS BED IS SO CUTE BUT WHY ISNT HIS BED PUSHED FULLY AGAINST THE WALL!?!??? THERES SUCH A HUGE GAP WTF, PSYCHOPATH

oh my lord he has a TV in there AND a calendar. Do the dorms just come with this stuff these things are supposed to be like $30 and $120 each how does he afford it he’s unemployed

AWWWWW MY BABY IS EATING PASTA 🥰🥺🥺🥺 HE’S MY LITTLE ITALIAN BOY??

I like how Rize says Takatsuki is a He, but when Kaneki was talking about her later on he says she’s a very beautiful woman with a lot of people who follow her for her looks, so it’d probably be common knowledge that Takatsuki is a woman. Yet Rize didn’t know that. Did she really like Takatsuki that much at the time or did she just read books that would draw Kaneki closer to her?

KANEKI YOU FUCKING IDIOT DON’T STARE AT WOMEN’S BREASTS WITHOUT THEIR CONSENT!!!!! I HATE HIM

why is he also wearing the exact same outfit as the day before. stinky

“girls…” yeah ikr Neki they r so weird one time this girl broke my hat in grade 3 bc I didn’t want to go to her bday party like wtf is up with that i hate women so cringe fr with their diets and hat crimes

AWWWW THEY’RE WALKING HOME 🥰🥰 AND THEY’RE DISCUSSING BLOOD TYPES SO SWEET

The Reappearance of Touka Chan

Kaneki has been blushing for this entire date how does he not get tired

does Rize touch her mouth when she’s lying

this is supposed to be volume 1 but I’m taking a million years to read it so maybe I’ll just do every 5th chapter + whatever ones I like most

RIZE IS SO CUTE AND PRETTY AND AMAZING I LOVE WOMEN AND GIRLS AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SHES STANDING 😍😍😍

“and then everyone started shooting fireworks at Hide” they wha

OUGHHHHH RIZE’S SO CUTEE

oh boy it’s about to happen

SHE’S GONNA TOKYO HIS FUCKIGN GHOUL!!

why does he have to make such an ugly face when Rize hugs him

OMG IT HAPPENED

YEAH HE’S DELICIOUS AF 🤤🤤 YUMMY YUMMY BOY

he looks so scared ☹️

SERIOUSLY THIS BLACK GOAT’S EGG BULLSHIT SOUNDS SO INTERESTING THEY NEED TO RELEASE IT IRL

why does she have to bully him so much lmao

OMG SPIDER GIRL

got you ♥︎

honestly wish she’d scratch around my stomach for me,,,,

DID HE JUST ATTACK HER WITH A PEN 😭😭 KANEKI NOOOOO

I love the way the blood splatter is drawn here as my son gets brutally stabbed, it’s kinda cool they look like little beads flying through the night like in Soup Opera

“I love humans with body types like yours, Kaneki-san” omg so do I, wow, me and Rize have so much in common 🥰🥰 maybe we should umm,,, 🥺👉👈 well, maybe not…. unless????

NOOOOOOOOO MY GIRLFRIEND GOT SQUASHED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AUGHHHHHHHHH

KANEKIIIIIIIIIIIII IN THE HOSPITAL!

why are her boobs so large that must hurt her back a lot

THE OPERATION WAS A SUCCESS!!!!! MY BABY LIVES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (he’s gonna wish he didn’t)

“given neither talent, not glory” damn why must you say this about him 😭😭 he’s so talented and glorious with his boob staring and Frag shirt and computer and Takatsuki’s 7th Work and scrawnyness and awww bapy 🥰

GOOD MORNING GHOULIEBOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WELCOME TO HELL

[james-bucky-barnackle]

Two Night Stand (Part 6)

Synopsis: (AU) You found yourself at a club drinking away to forget about the stress of your shitty job as the assistant of the biggest Editor in New York, you end up hooking up with the man of your dreams only to wake up to a nightmare when you find out he’s the son of your boss.

PART 5 | 2NS Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 4,075

A/N: I still have trouble with my wifi so I’m posting this part early!!! 

Monday, the first level of hell. And I’m not an idiot to be late, despite getting home at 12 AM. I woke up at six and put effort into applying concealer on my Walmart eyebags. I wore a white loose halter top which I’ve tucked in my beige high waisted skirt and put a gray blazer on top. I twirled my hair into a bun, securing it with a pen which I’ll pull off when I get to the building. As much as I’d love to look nice on the streets, these curls are not gonna take the pollution. I fill Pogo’s bowl and rub his belly, leaving a chew toy next to him, Bruce will be here later to pick him up. I grab my bag and I walk out of the apartment. Wanda’s already left for work, she teaches at one of the private pre-schools, and I can’t trace one single wrinkle on her face. I guess working with kids is easier than working for Winnie. I start walking and go into my boss’ most favored cafés—my order already out front. I make my way to the counter and give the barista a wink, handing him a few dollar bills. The woman in line frowns at me, sorry honey but until you’re not Winnie, you’ll have to wait in line. I’m in an awfully good mood today, considering that it’s another day at the office, but there’s no use in being a fuzzball, I’m not in the building yet. I pull one of the cups from the tray and take a sip, mmm coffee is like my heroin. I used to get a regular latte but ever since I’ve started working for the View, I invested a little more coin into it and started ordering Winnie’s too. It’s amazing, I have no idea what they put in this, but it’s an investment I’m willing to continue cashing myself to. I put it immediately back just before I bump into a cyclist, I hear an audible apology and I immediately forgive him, just as long as no one ruins my clothes, you are all forgiven.

I’m half an hour early when I arrive at the building, which is neat. I get to warm up, because yes working for the view is sort of like training for a sport, with very fast economic risks, the risk of me not getting to pay my rent this month if I don’t get myself right. When the lift arrives at my floor, half of the employees are already there, per usual. I walk to my desk and put my things down. Okay, where’s Maria’s cubicle? I need that article before Winnie arrives. I walk gingerly amongst the sea of busy people procrastinating anything they can get their hands on. What are these people doing all day? I get to her table and it’s empty. Even when I’m thirty minutes early, this desk isn’t supposed to be empty. I pull my phone out and text her where she is.

[Home] I wiggle my eyebrows, what? I have no time for this, I hit call on her number.

“What do you mean you’re home? Are you sick?”

“Home, as in I’m at home.” She replies deadpan, as if it’s normal to be at this time of day. “I’m not sick.” What the hell is going on?

“Then why aren’t you here? Where’s the article Winnie asked you to write?” I’m itching, I’m starting to get very annoyed, I try lowering my voice when people start to glance my way.

“I haven’t written it,” holy. Shit. WHAT? A dramatic pause ensues before a loud cry breaks through my phone. “HE BROKE UP WITH ME Y/N. He. Broke. Up. With. Me.” What’s this have to do with me? “And he told me I wasn’t like anybody else, but he hasn’t been calling me in a week, so I went to his apartment then- aaaah!!!” I hear her sneeze on the other end of the line. That’s her excuse? I could get hit by a truck and I’d for sure still show up at the front desk.

“Okay,” I say like I’m trying to ease a five-year-old child. “can’t you write anything? Anything! Is there anything old on your computer I could give to Winnie?”

“And he had the audacity to tell me it wasn’t me! It was him!” Okay, she is not hearing me out. I start panicking myself, and I drop the call. What the hell am I gonna do? Maria’s gonna get me fired. I doubt Winnie’s gonna let me slide on this one. The weather guy could mess up and give her the wrong information on TV and she’d still find a way to put the blame on me. I dash to my desk almost tripping and hitting the hot coffee sitting graciously on top of it. Not today, mister.

I open a new document and then google on the side. I have no idea what to do, but I’m for sure not letting Winnie come into the office with an empty desk. I’m going to write this article and putting Maria’s name on it, even if it’s the shittiest article ever written. She’s already risked her job not coming in today, could I really make things worse? Milan fashion week, Milan – fashion – week, Milan… Nothing is coming to my head. How am I supposed to know how describe anything? I attended the event sure, but mostly I was just trying to keep my snarky remarks to myself, sitting behind Winnie on the front row of the runway. I can’t think of anything, apart from my feeling queasy when I saw Thor walking the runway looking all fresh and snazzy. I made him, I gave him that career. Focus! I start googling for photos taken by the View’s photographers and I type furiously. I’ve got twenty more minutes; I haven’t written anything in so long. Isn’t this supposed to come naturally? Like riding a bike? It doesn’t go away? All my brain contents are Winnie’s schedule and coffee orders, come on! I spent big bucks on college, work for me, brain! While I’m questioning my own competence, my phone notifies me of a text, “Good morning, doll.” As much as I’d love to respond and giggle to myself, I need to focus. I flip it face down, and face the monitor. How does Maria even talk in her articles? I haven’t read anything she’s written, screw it!

Everyone who’s asking me anything about other things unrelated to my boss and this article has been shooed away and given the hand, by my hunched over self. At this rate, the computer should be releasing smoke.

Most people don’t even have the least bit knowledge on the things they wear, others know more about the brand more than they know themselves. Fashion has turned worlds reeling into first glances, wear the wrong shade of pink and you’re out. |

I continue typing Maria’s article not even knowing which direction it’s heading. Oh god, is this even an article? It sounds, so—stupid, that’s the word. Best case scenario, Winnie reads this and thinks it’s a draft and Maria will be here tomorrow to rewrite an entirely new one; worst case scenario, she burns this paper and Maria will be unemployed, which I never thought I’d not mind until she’s made me incredibly haggard looking like Quasimodo in front of my computer instead of the Esmeralda I longed to be when I came out of the apartment.

Milan’s fashion week gives us a peek of not just the trends you think will be rocked by the young and wealthy of this generation, but of how pattern, shape and form is a huge mark of character when wanting your presence known in the world. Your clothes are your brand, it’s their job to make them look and your voice to make them listen.

Okay cheeseball, we’re printing you. I click the icon and it’s started inking the paper. I want to puke at how cheesy that last paragraph is, but come to think of it, the entire article was destined to be a failure the moment I’ve started writing it. It’s obvious that an ignorant on cashmere wrote it.  I hear the printer stop buzzing and I pull it out the tray, raising it up and twirling in my office chair. I did it, or should I say, Maria did it. We did it! And I’ve got three more minutes to go. I pull the pen off my hair, and salvage what’s left of my curls. This looks… decent. I pat my forehead with a napkin, that article was a workout.

The floor grows silent, and there’s only one explanation for that. I stand up, reach for her cup and stand by the door. It’s the perfect temperature, bordering on still hot and are you sure this is still hot? Just the way she likes it. I see her, walking on the aisle and everyone looking and walking elsewhere, not wanting to be in the same lane as her, you don’t want to be in the same lane as her. She’s got her shades and her fur white coat on, and those gorgeous red heels. Her gray hair miraculously curled, framing her face, and even with all that beauty, you know beyond those dark lenses that she’s an evil woman. You can’t have everything, I guess. She gets to the door and I open for her, show time.

“Good morning, I have Maria’s article here and your coffee.” I run behind her and she opens her palm, I gently place the cup. She pauses and bring her shades down her nose to look at the Louis Vuitton handbag sitting where it’s always been, clean and perfectly, seemingly untouched. I see her grin, yes Winnie, no one’s going to jail today. “You have a meeting in 2 hours, and then Clint asked if you could check the creative department this afternoon to review the clothes for the editorial.” I place the paper on her desk, she removes her shades and looks at it. She glances at me from her chair, and my eyes grow wide.

“Right, yes I’m leaving.” I run to the doors and flop on my chair spinning it in a direction where she’s on my peripheral vision. I pretend to type something, please don’t fire me. Please don’t fire me. Please don’t fire me. I repeat it in my head like a mantra.

“What are you typing?” I jump in my chair, it’s Sam. “AHwufuef hswuqodb udnidnl---”

“What are you doing here?”

“Is that a new language? The new Morse code?” I bite my cheek, and spin my chair in his direction. I need this chair in my house. I raise my eyebrow and cross my arms. “Nothing, I work here too you know? Why shouldn’t I be on this floor?” he says as a matter of fact. I shrug and spin back to the angle I was gazing at Winnie on.

“Is that a letter from the president?” he says pointing through the glass partition.

“What? No.” I wrinkle my nose.

“That’s odd, she’s still reading.” Holy shit what does that mean? Is that good or bad? Every time any of the writers would submit an article I don’t give enough care to look at Winnie reading, but I’m pretty sure she reads them, I mean that’s her job. And my mornings consist of putting things on her desk and leaving, I don’t know what she does in there.

“Your point is?”

“I’ve been here for more than a year, she doesn’t read articles that long. She reads the first paragraph and the last sentence, then puts it down.” Holy crap, I might’ve just written the worst article known to mankind and she can’t take her eyes off it in disgust. She’s probably getting sore eyes from reading my words. Think positive, maybe it’s the opposite. Maybe she likes it? I move my head forward and stare at her, her eyes squinting on the paper. It’s disgust. Holy shit, sorry Maria, you’ve killed your career the moment you didn’t go to work, that was me trying to salvage whatever brownie points you had.

“D’you write it?” Sam’s voice scares me off again. I shake my head violently. “If you say so.” He crouches down and whispers in my ear before laughing and spinning my chair in the direction of my computer. I’ve been pretending to type on the same document I’ve written the article in. I blow air into my cheeks, great James Bond-ing Y/N. I exit the document and open my phone, oh shoot, Bucky! I text him back “Good morning to you too.”

A few seconds later, my phone buzzes, he sent me a photo of him in his office with his eyes closed and his tongue out, with the caption “meeting later, I’m sleepy.”

I look up my desk and when no one’s looking I snap a quick selfie of my fingers looking like they’re holding Sam who’s standing far enough just to look like a toy. I think of a funny caption and hit send. “Maybe I can send Sam in to proxy you.”

He replies with another photo of him, his eyes staring into the camera, giving me puppy dog eyes. He looks so cute, I’m literally pouting. His brown hair looking luscious, oh how I’d love to run my hands through his hair. “Can you send yourself instead?”

I flush, I reply with three laugh emojis, not really knowing what to reply. I gotta play hard to get sometimes, what happened to miss workaholic and focused? Bucky Barnes has quite a way with me alright. “I guess I was shipped to the wrong Barnes,” I type in, sneakily taking a photo of me mid shrug with Winnie in the background.

“Ugh! Damn delivery service, always getting my address wrong!” I giggle. Before I could type in another reply, I hear my phone ring. Right, I’ve almost forgotten I’m at work.

“Hi! This is Y/N from the View how may I help you?”

“I’d like to talk to Winifred Barnes,”

“Who’s calling?”

“Sandra Wang,” I gasp, the Sandra Wang? I skim through Winifred’s list of people I am not to connect the phone to… and she’s on it.

���I’m sorry, but she’s currently unavailable. You’re going to have to set an appointment for a formal meeting.” I scramble across my desk in search for my planner, “she’s free on-“

“No need, I’m already in the building.” My jaw drops, what did she just say? Did I hear that right?

“I’m afraid, I’m going to have to-“ she hangs up on me. I dial her number on the telephone, and of course she’s not going to take it. Oh, no. I start biting my nail, flustered. Surprise visits? For Winnie? That’s a very hard no. And it’s Sandra Wang, one of the designers lined up for the fashion ball, her coming here uninvited doesn’t sound like good news to me.

I call Sam real quick, who’s flirting with one of the girls in the office, waving my hands frantically and begging him to hurry up. He arrives at my desk and I tell him what’s happening, or should I say, what’s about to happen. And he’s now biting his nails too. The two of us start pacing around my table, we look like the Hardy boys.

What does she have to say that can’t be over the phone? Is she pulling her collection off the ball? Is she dying? Somehow, in some twisted way, Sandra, dying sounded better that having to look for another designer to replace her slot at the ball. Winnie’s influence is overwhelming. The sole reason why we’re both panicking over what other people might think is ridiculously so little of an issue is because 1) as I’ve mentioned multiple times, uninvited guests are unwelcome, count family off the list. 2) Winnie hates her daily routine rearranged, anything that disrupts the schedule. Anything that happens wrong on a Monday, reflects through Friday, and I’m not about to have a target on my ass. The last time this happened, she fired 14 people in the floor. One of them were fired just because Winnie heard her breathe too loud when they were in a meeting. By golly I was scared, it was just my first month on the job, and that’s when I knew I was in deep.

“Did she say where in the building?” Sam asked, momentarily taking a break from his nail biting.

“No?!”

“I’ll stall Sandra, tell her she’s not in the office, and you block Winnie, ask her to do something else or tell her to pee!” Sam whispers, his hands doing wild gestures.

“Ask her to pee?!”

“You know what I mean!” we both run on opposite directions. He pulls out his phone and calls someone. I enter Winnie’s office not even knowing what to do.

“There you are, submit this for proof reading, I want it printed on this month’s issue.” Winifred tells me the moment I enter then hands me the article I just wrote. Holy cow! I can’t believe this is happening, what?! I bite my lips trying to hide the ginormous smile my lips can’t seem to shy away from. Maria owes me big time.

“You got it!” she whips her head, raising her eyebrows at me. Whoops, too much enthusiasm. “Uh- yes of course…”

“What are you still doing in my office?” Oh right, Sandra Wang! What could I say that’ll make her leave the office? I can’t think of anything, anything that’s plausible. A tarantula got in your desk! Or fire drill! I mentally smack my head, fire drill my ass. I know! I’ll tell her Bucky’s outside, I’m sure he’ll back me up, right? Then I can just tell her he suddenly got called for work. Okay that sounded pretty stupid, but it’s better than the first two things I’ve thought of… I think.

“Uhm, there’s someone in the building—”

“Bucky is the perfect cover for Dolores,” hold up what? I walk a little to the back as two women walk into the office with Sam outside the glass walls giving me an apologetic shrug that spells “y-i-k-e-s”, to which I replied a look that spells “r-e-a-l-l-y-?-!”. I guess 14 people on the building might need to start packing now, or more. The woman who’s just spoken looks like she’s in her mid-forties, black hair pushed back, and snaking straight on her back. She has olive skin and small almond eyes, a sharp black liner on her lash line, I bet it could kill. A red head was behind her, she has legs that can go for days, she has beautiful freckles on her cheeks, and her teeth gapped in the middle. She looked like a cover girl.

“Sandra, nice to see you too.” Winnie replies, but gives me a killer look, I give her one of my signature apologetic smiles. And I’m glad she doesn’t reply with my unemployment.

“The girl in the orange camisole, the mystery girl- I have her right here.” Sandra pulls Dolores from her back. I don’t know if I should leave, but I for sure don’t want to and so I figured to leave when Winnie asks me to. Until then I’m getting front row on this devious plan. The girl in the orange camisole? I’m sorry Sandra, but that’s not her, I would know.

“I didn’t think you for being color blind, Sandra, but I’ve seen the photos. The girl caught snogging my son had ____ hair.” My eyes grow wide, she has seen the photos! I shake my head, of course she has, Y/N. But it’s been two days, and I’m still pouncing in this office. She didn’t recognize me? I don’t know if her not acknowledging anything is a good thing.

“As if you haven’t been involved in rumors, Winnie. We could say she dyed her hair.” Sandra smiles, wickedly. What is going on? Who is this Dolores anyway? And what’s this cover for? “This is buzz! This could give my niece her spotlight back,” spot light? I try to recall where I’ve seen her face, but nothing comes to mind. “and Bucky and Dolores have been linked in the past before, it would be the topic of the century.”

“If I wanted to make a rumor to be the topic of the century, I would’ve asked my assistant to pretend to be the woman in the photo. Don’t you think that would be more scandalous?” I choke, an audible one, which makes the three of them look at me. I laugh, hysterically and when no one joins me, I shut the hell up. I smile, funny Winnie. Funny, funny, Winnie. I start fanning myself with the article I’ve written.

“What have you to lose Winnie? In my side of things, I think it’s a fair trade. A good one too.” She puts her hands on Winnie’s glass table. She hates that, she really hates it when people touch her desk. “All your son needs to do is take Dolores as his date to the ball, they’ll wear my designs… Unless you want me to pull my collection out your ball.”

“You do know it’s more of a loss for you than it is a loss for me, right?” I want to laugh because it’s true. Every designer longs for the exposure on that ball, no matter how old or big your brand is, a slot at the View’s ball is to die for. But still, its half a bluff, since we wouldn’t be able to replace Sandra under a week’s notice. And the press will be all over us, which is something Winnie is not a fan of when things are still being prepared. “But fine, if this is your way of getting your niece a date.” WHAT?

Sandra looks insulted, but she still managed a smirk to spite her colleague. She removes one of her leather gloves and offers it to Winnie to shake. I already know what’s going on my boss’ face, she hates handshakes, if there’s a bill on it she’d be the first to sign it. She waits until Sandra gets impatient, and she doesn’t, so Winnie sighs and shakes it anyway. And right after she does, Sandra flashes her million-dollar smile and leaves the room, but not before looking me up and down. And I can say the same for Dolores, who’s made it a point to look at me during Sandra and Winnie’s conversation the way they both looked at each other. Like we’re their mini-mes and I cringe, but not as much as I’d cringe if I was Sandra’s mini me.

“How desperate.” Winnie scoffed as soon as the two have made their exit. I pull a small bottle of alcohol out of my blazer’s left pocket and spray some on Winnie’s already waiting hand. She gestures on the place where her two unexpected visitors have just stood and I spray that as well.

“Next time you let anyone here without an appointment, you’re fired, Y/L/N. I don’t care if you can write a good article, I don’t want unnecessary people taking up oxygen in my office.” Fear rushes through my body, how did she know? I didn’t even realize she’d given me a compliment.

“But I didn’t- It was Maria—"

“Maria already called in sick today,” that bitch. She didn’t even get me a heads up. I worked my ass off for that paper, and here she is calling in sick? I worked my ass for nothing. Well, maybe not nothing. Did Winnie just say I write good stuff?! My inner goddess is beaming, my lips start to curl up. I can’t wait to tell Wanda.

She then turns to me, waving a finger, “Get back to work, and call Dolce and Gabbana, tell them to cancel James’ fitting. Guess we’re settling with Sandra Wang.” I spoke too soon.

I’m dumbfounded, so many things have happened under one conversation and I haven’t processed a single thing. What the hell just happened? Not a second later, I feel my phone vibrate. Nat just texted me a photo of the dress I’m wearing to the fashion ball. Great, I can’t wait.

PART 7

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[silhouetteofadon]

A Raw Day

TL:DR version: Chris is having a raw and bad day and is just venting.  Probably being a little bitch. At the moment I'm having a raw day it seems.  I'm kind of feeling lost, swimming this sea of doubt, of frustration and anger.   I have my anchor points in life though; Mina, her girls and my desire to keep learning how to art.  The reality is though I just feel... tired.  The last few years have been... frustrating.  To kick off this tale of attempting to dump my woes into something several years ago I dated a gal named Stephanie.  When I started dating her I had just cleared my debts that my mother had wracked up in my name, I had found myself a stable and consistent living arrangement and over the last year I had lost 70lbs.  I was in a good place, starting forward. I at that point decided I wanted to date again, reached out and bumped my world into Steph.  We dated and due to her lease coming up, we agreed to move in together relatively early in our relationship. We were happy so we saw no problem with it. And co-living honestly was never a problem for us.  I suppose in the end, it was what she wanted from the relationship vs mine.  Steph is not a bad person, I'd like to state, but she is a self serving one when it comes down to it.   Enough that even after meeting her best friend in CT that the last time we saw her her friend looked Steph in the eye and told "Take care of this one."  Steph was confused of course but her friend reassured her the same thing as if there was a history somewhere.  In our relationship I wanted a companion to experience life with and Steph... Steph well wanted a bit of that 50's house wife sort of experience.   She shifted a lot of the financials towards me even though she made significantly more.  I had to cover the dinners, dates, she refused to pay extra for her friend Anna that was living with us unemployed and without state benefits.   In the end, it cost me a lot.  When things ended later one I was $7000 in the hole before realizing she wanted to just walk away within two months of being married because she wanted to have another man's children before mine.   To say the last the relationship left me with a bit of a fucked up head the last few years since. There is far more the story though, self discovery of how I function in relationships, what kind of people I need on the other side of the fence, lusts, lack of lust and just in general who I don't want in my life anymore.   To give an abbreviated ending to this, Steph and my current girlfriend more or less spouse swapped Mina's husband and I.  Mina and I are happy, working as hard as we can to make things work.  Originally, while displeased from the turn of events, Mina and I took a breath to play out the results of the exchange civilly. After all, kids were involved. Mina and Layfe young ones in their life and we wanted what was best for them.  We had drawn up a six month plan before anyone moved to give everyone financial security and a transition period.  One month in Steph of course couldn't handle that I was no longer treating her like a princess so she decided to jump ship early, giving me no time to curb down my debts I had gained from our relationship.  It didn't feel right to ask her for money back for dating her.  To top that off, a week before Mina was to come down with the girls, Layfe filed an injunction with the courts so that Zizah (the youngest and their biological child) couldn't leave the state. There was no money or time to fight anything so Zii had to be left with him.  Layfe also threw Mina a bit under the bus though he says looking back at things at the time, he didn't mean to and as he is genuinely a great guy, I believe he didn't mean for things to come off as harsh as they did.  He like Steph aren't bad people, simply self serving when it comes down to it.  His statements to the court heavily laid into Mina's use of cannibis (which she uses to tackle her pains, PTSD, Depression and anxiety.)   It helps her function well as a person and you can often see the times she is on and off of it. Sadly at the time it wasn't legal so it worked in detriment to her case.   Also Mina had been a stay at home mom for years so she also had minimal job experience to show reliability.     Moving on from that chapter though, Mina and her daughter Uri move down.  I throw myself into work for OT as we have no room mates lined up to pad out the missing money.   Our room mates we had planned were quite a ways off at the end of that six-seven month drop.   Mina got on state review, where they immediately saw her case, did her psychology and said she definitely should not be working right now.  The loss of her child in her life flared up her depression, trapping her in a cycle of grief that only seemed to restart every time she got to see her kid with no real closure for it.  It was hard and so painful to watch it happen to her.   But I did what I could. I worked later shifts for extra money, worked OT as it came up and we calculated our money the best we could.  We managed fine.  Our planned room mates kept pushing their plan out and out and out. The last two years have been this extended financial struggle and me sorting out my own developed anxiety and depression over the years.  But to be honest? Mostly the persistent feeling of being so damn tired.  Every time I manage to get ahead something would swing back in and wreck my lego tower.  Like some divine joke I just don't understand yet.  We finally did get a stable room mate however, Mina's friend Dan.  He was great, helped us get on our feet and was a good friend that we needed in our life.  But, his stay was temporary and he moved out to his own place. Of course, then game the false light.  Within the last few months Kaia (Mina's friend) and her girlfriend Lexi finally make it up here.  They drove from Florida, all the way up to Washington.  They arrived and honestly everything was great.  Lexi was the employed of the two and Kaia lived off SSI.  Money wise things were fine and everyone got along snazzy for about 30 days.   Then shit dropped again.  Within only a few days before rent being due, Kaia threw down the childish meltdown of a century.  The details are honestly embarrassing and are centered around turning a light off in a room where we were trying to put a 12 year old to sleep in.  In the end, within 24 hours of her freaking out, she burned the bridge and moved out, dragging Lexi along who clearly didn't agree with this course of action or reason but wanted to support her other half.  So they moved out, shorting us $1100 with no way to find it.   Thankfully my dad was able to save us, paying it out of his own pocket.  Something I of course need to pay back ahead of my other debts I've been unable to do anything about. Not wishing to be stuck again, we immediately set into finding a new room mate; we found Josh.  He came, looked at the room, decided it was good and agreed to $600 for it.  About $150 less than we desired but we can make that work.   After he agreed to the room, Josh went radio silent for about two weeks on us after we brought up discussion of a deposit. After working 141 hours in two weeks, I finally found some decent hours this week to reach out and talk to him again as he hadn't responded to the subject.  After a few days of calling, he says he still wants the room but doesn't want to do a deposit.  Honestly I was ok with putting that aside.  He also then wanted to pay $500 for the room instead of $600.  I took a night to think about it, discussed with some folks and in the end, definitely going to stick with $600.  Of course now I'm stuck doing the wait for his response. But I feel... made.  Aching.  I just stopped working my OT as a break.  I've been working 100-140 hour work pay checks the last four months of this year.  I'm so tired.   I'm so burned out.   I can't manage the brain or willpower to do routine practice sketches and Mina can't help our financial situation more than the state will allow her.  She is almost done with her GED program and she just got a job at the college in the day care but technically it is still somewhat volunteer work and the state has been vague on if it will increase her stipend.   But I think I'm off point for what I was getting to... I'm just... I'm tired of never feeling like I'm getting ahead or even on track.   This 141 hour check for example:  is pretty much gone.  Right out the door. Just... gone. If Josh isn't moving in and I don't find a quick replacement, bills and rent will eat everything.  I can't afford to take the girl's to the water park so this season pass just sits and rots besides the one visit we managed so far.  I can't buy Uri a bike yet like I told her  I would try to when she asked about it.  I can't help replace Mina's cannabis that the state won't provide (hilariously because she doesn't smoke enough to warrant a prescription.  I can't manage the energy after all the OT to actively take the girls out to play or do a board game or sometimes even the will to just sit on the couch and watch MLP with them.   I don't really get the time or chance to process any of this.   I just want to take care of them and be happy and I just don't understand why it is so hard sometimes.  I just want to take care of folks in my life and occasionally commission a drawing.  You know, some happy stuff.   If you read all of this I am sorry.  I don't know why I'm doing it but today I just... I just wanted to put something down. Something in writing or bitch and moan. I don't know what it is.