#puck vc Good For Them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

willddheartt · 4 years ago

Text

29 Days | Wilbur Soot

30 days to fall in love with someone? Sounds easy right? It would be if that person wasn’t so unbelievably annoying in almost every sense.

You’re not sure how you found yourself in this situation, but you were positive there was no backing out now…

Series Warnings: Mostly fluff and angst, and a very poorly constructed enemies to lovers plot.

Word Count: 1424

Masterlist Series Masterlist

29 Days

You woke up to find your phone blowing up with notifications from your friends and fans. You opened the discord app, seeing everyone freaking out about you and Wilbur. Neither of you had answered yet, and that just lead them to spam their questions even more.

When did this happen?

Were you hiding it from us too?

What?

Y/N and Wilbur??

I thought Y/N hated him!

Y/N???

WILBUR???

They were getting more and more impatient. You sighed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before you began typing to them, although you hated the app format of Discord, it was easier than getting up and booting up your PC. Wilbur and I are dating, yeah. You started. No, we weren’t hiding it from you guys, we just wanted to make sure it was something that was going to last before we told anyone. You thought you would have had at least a few hours before you had to put on the act that you were trapped in for a month. Exiting discord you went to text Wilbur.

Good morning, Darling. Hope you wake up ready to put on a great performance later on.

You smirked to yourself as you sent the message, knowing you were truly outdoing yourself from yesterday.

Sitting in the kitchen you threw your long hair up in a messy bun to keep it out of your face as you scrolled through Twitter while sipping on your morning coffee. “Good morning Y/N.” Cece yawned, as she walked out of her room. “Morning, Cece,” You smiled She looked at you from the opposite side of the island, “So what exactly is going on between you and Wilbur?” She asked. You shook your head, looking down into your coffee mug, “It’s nothing really, we’re just friends.” “Really?” She raised her eyebrow at you, “Cause we’re just friends and I haven’t seen you featuring me on your twitch channel and announcing that we’re dating.” She gave you a sly smirk. You cracked a smile, “Yeah, we might be dating.” “I thought you hated him!” She exclaimed “I did! I did!” You fought back, “But, I don’t know, I had a change of heart.”

Just then your phone dinged from your hand, a notification displayed a message from Wilbur.

Good morning beautiful, I believe we are going to have to call everyone later and inform them of our new relationship.

You smiled and rolled your eyes before typing back, Cece might also want to sit in on this one, she saw our stream.

The sun had begun to set outside your window as you sat down at your PC, getting ready to call your friends with Wilbur and explain everything about your relationship as you could without letting too much get out. You met with Wil a few minutes beforehand to get your stories straight so neither of you would mess anything up. Tommy sounded the most surprised to find out you and Wilbur were together, but once the shock wore off, he wouldn’t stop asking how to get a girlfriend, as per normal Tommy fashion. By the end of the call, everyone was very supportive and happy for you.

“So do you guys have plans to meet up?” Dream asked

You stared wide-eyed at Wilbur's chat icon in discord, you never even thought about that, of course, you were going to have to meet up at some point to make it believable. “We actually talked about it before but haven't been able to figure out a good time yet, and where we hadn’t gone public we didn't want to raise any suspicion with the fans if we had to stream.” Wilbur took the lead, “However we have been talking about it a lot in the last day and it seems like something that’s going to happen now,” Wil said. You were so thankful your camera wasn't on and you were just one voice chat because you would have sworn your eyes got as big as hockey pucks, you could handle talking to him like you were together over text and through a screen, but in person was something you never thought you'd have to deal with even though in the fine print of the rules the two of you compiled it was very finely implied that you would have to meet in person. “Yeah,” You coughed, “We were hoping we could meet up sometime this month, your schedules don't seem too busy, so it might just work.” You went around for a few minutes before everyone called it. Though they said they understood what you guys had going on they still seemed confused about how you and Wilbur acted like you hated each other one day then the next turned around to say you were dating, but if they weren’t willing to ask any more questions you weren’t going to try and pester them out.

“Hey, Y/N, Love, don’t leave, I wanna talk for a bit,” Wilbur said just before everyone left the VC. You waited for everyone to be out of the chat before speaking, “Hey, Wil,” The adoring tone in your voice made you want to throw up. “So when are we meeting up?” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “I don’t know, Wil.” You sighed, “I didn’t think we were going to go that far.” “Y/N, of course, we were going to have to meet up at some point. C’mon, why don’t we talk about setting a date now?” “Sure Wil,” Your head fell into your hands. “Firstly, whos going to who?” You asked Wilbur took a moment, thinking, “You’ve got a roommate right?” He finally asked “Yeah, we have a small place.” You nodded even though he couldn't see you. “If it would work, it would probably be best for me to come to you if that works?” You asked “That would work, When do you want to come out?”

You opened up your schedule, to see if there were any big events happening that you had to be home for. Coincidentally, you were an open book. This worked out too well, you thought shaking your head.

“I’m literally so free this month, Wilbur. We could try something for next week if that works on your end.” You spoke, clicking through the many open windows on your computer. “That works out for me. I can make up a place for you to stay if that would make you more comfortable.” His offer almost made your heart soften. “I’d like that, yeah.” You nodded.

It was only the second day and some of the things he did could almost make you forget you were acting and none of this was real, you had to remind yourself that this wasn't the ‘real’ Wilbur you knew, he’d never be so much as nice towards you.

“Right then,” You said, “I’ll take a look at travel prices and tickets and shoot you a text when I have a booked date?” You asked “That would be perfect.” Wilbur yawned, “Okay, have a good night, Y/N, I do believe I’m going to pass out any moment here so I should be getting to bed.” His voice was tired and you could almost picture his drooping eyelids with his head rested on his palm, struggling to keep his eyes open. “Goodnight Wilbur, I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well.” You said softly, mouse hovering over the leave option. “I love you, bye,” Was the last thing Wilbur said before logging off.

Out of the many things that have caught you off guard in the past two days, Wil spilling those words in his tired state really caught you off guard. You sat staring at the empty Discord call for a few minutes, mind blank, the only thing you could think of was Wils echoing voice. “I love you,” That was something you were sure you were going to hear as you were falling asleep in a few hours.

You continued to sit there in your darkroom, just with the light of your PC, once again, thinking about what was truly happening with you and Wilbur. You already knew he was a phenomenal actor from the performances he’s put on for the DreamSMP. But you wondered just how far that extended, as much as you despised him, you couldn’t help the thoughts creeping into ‘is it something more?’ territory. At the end of the night, you were left alone and confused with nobody you could talk it over with.

23 notes · View notes

oosteven-universe · 3 years ago

Text

Gamma Flight #2

Gamma Flight #2 Marvel Comics 2021 Written by Al Ewing & Crystal Frasier Illustrated by Lan Medina Coloured by Antonio Fabela Lettered by VC’s Joe Sabino THE BIGGEST REVEAL OF THE SUMMER! Who is after Gamma Flight? You’ve been calling for them since IMMORTAL HULK’s early days — well, True Believer, we’re here to deliver. Come to GAMMA FLIGHT for all the radioactive wonder you’ve been missing — and the characters you love to hate. Granted I haven’t been reading the Hulk book Immortal or otherwise so this is my first exposure to this group and I have to say I’m loving every single moment of this. Turning Doc Sampson into a green Bigfoot is fantastic and I’m such a huge fan of Puck and even the Absorbing Man & Titania so this is the kind of limited series that thrills me to no end. Now with Skaar showing up and leaving him to go against the Doc, Titania and Stockpile well that’s not a fair fight at all. Still what I love and what freaks me out are all the fingers that come out of Skaar’s face and body. One aspect of this book that is so appealing to me is that it is a diverse group of characters whom you wouldn’t normally see together but are finding a way to work together and make this grouping work. I am a huge fan of the way that this is being told. The story & plot development that we see through how the sequence of events unfold as well as how the reader learns information is presented exceptionally well. The character development that we see through the dialogue, the character interaction and how they act and react to the situations and circumstances which they encounter do a spectacular job in fleshing these characters out even further. The pacing is superb and as it takes us through the pages revealing more and more of the story, the more I wand to see and know. I am a fan of the way that we see this being structured and how we see the layers within the story continuing to grow, evolve, strengthen and even newly emerge. The layers of course have the characterisation, the plot twists and the reveal in them and whether or not they work with the main arc or swirl around it they add this great depth, dimension and complexity to the story. How we see everything working together to create the story’s ebb & flow as well as how it moves the story forward is achieved extremely well. I’m really loving the interiors here as well. The linework is clean, crisp and strong and how we see the varying weights and techniques being utilised to create the detail work that we see is astoundingly good stuff. I’d like to see more backgrounds so they really flesh out the moments and expand how we see things. How we see the composition within the panels bringing out the depth perception, sense of scale and the overall sense of size and scope to the story is well done. The utilisation of the page layouts and how we see the angles and perspective in the panels show a remarkably talented eye for storytelling. The colour work is phenomenal! All these greens with their various hues and tones within them being utilised is so well rendered that its just amazingly impressive. The other colours we see and how their hues and tones are being utilised to create the shading, highlights and shadow work is rendered exceptionally well. There is something about this that is exciting beyond reason. The Hulk and his supporting cast of characters have always been able to morph into whatever is needed at any given time and depending on who is doing the writing we’ve seen some extraordinary storytelling come from the franchise and this is one of those that can proudly take its place among those. With some phenomenal writing and really in-depth and interesting characterisation with these dynamic and exciting interiors we’re really being treated to something extraordinary in the making.

#Comic Books #Comics Reviews #Marvel Comics

2 notes · View notes

columbuscomicscorner-blog · 7 years ago

Photo

OLD MAN LOGAN #29 REVIEW **SPOILERS**

Writer: Ed Brisson Artists: Mike Deodato, Jr. & Frank Martin Letterer: VC’s Cory Petit Cover Artists: Mike Deodato, Jr. & Frank Martin NCBD: 10/4/17 Publisher: @marvelentertainment Review by: Rob Carey In the penultimate issue of the “Days of Anger” story arc, a lot happens. Members of the Hulk Gang touch down around the globe with nuclear warheads strapped to their backs, while Logan, Hawkeye, and Cambria confront the Maestro and the hulkling children. Across the planet, the Hulk Gang’s warheads fail to detonate; Logan’s old friend Puck, from aboard the Alpha Flight Space Station, neutralizes the weapons and releases a chemical compound to trap each gang member in a foamy chemical cement. Logan and Maestro have their violent final confrontation, which ends with claws buried in Maestro’s gut. But the poor children, warped by Masetro’s lies, threaten the heroes with one last nuke.

What’s so successful about Brisson’s writing in this series is the slow, controlled build of a classic hero story, complete with all the proper elements for good fiction. It’s about sticking to the basics and doing them well: exposition, rising actions, climax, dialogue, etc. It’s satisfying to know that while every other Marvel series is swept up in quick-turn story arcs that lack substance or depth, Brisson’s been allowed to tell his six-issue arc without hindrance, resulting in a great story that is the envy of all X-books on the stands today. Like the earlier arcs in this series, this is a well-written page-turner that will undoubtedly read beautifully in collected editions.

Likewise, from cover to cover, on every page, in every panel, and with every detail, Deodato’s work is absolute perfection. A case could easily be made that he is one of the top Marvel artists today. Though the battle between Logan and Maestro is established by the writer as taking place in snowy northern Canada, it would be fully acceptable if in reality, it was Deodato’s suggestion to set the climax there. His ability to detail the finest elements of this setting (the bare limbs of a tree in winter, the flurries of fresh snow, the atmosphere of a mountain range) is on exquisite display in this issue, highlighting his tremendous talent and extraordinary skill. Of equal match is his depiction of the final fight, the dynamism of which should be studied by every superhero comic artist working today.

This issue, this arc, and the work of this writer/artist combo has been a joy to read from beginning to end. I have the highest faith that Brisson and Deodato will produce a marvelous conclusion to “Days of Anger” with the next issue.

9/10

Hear more discussion of Old Man Logan #29 on the X-Men Monday Podcast, here.

#old man logan #wolverine #logan #x-men comics #x-men #marvel #marvel comics #ed brisson #mike deodato jr

5 notes · View notes

tometender · 5 years ago

Photo

HANDLE WITH CARE by Helena Hunting Buy-Book Link:

HE WANTS TO LOSE CONTROL. Between his parents’ messed up marriage and his narcissistic younger brother, Lincoln Moorehead has spent the majority of his life avoiding his family. After the death of his father, Lincoln finds himself in the middle of the drama. To top it all off, he’s been named CEO of Moorehead Media, much to his brother’s chagrin. But Lincoln’s bad attitude softens when he meets the no-nonsense, gorgeous woman who has been given the task of transforming him from the gruff, wilderness guy to a suave businessman SHE’S TRYING TO HOLD IT TOGETHER. Wren Sterling has been working double time to keep the indiscretions at Moorehead Media at bay, so when she’s presented with a new contract, with new responsibilities and additional incentives, she agrees. Working with the reclusive oldest son of a ridiculously entitled family is worth the hassle if it means she’s that much closer to pursuing her own dreams. What Wren doesn’t expect is to find herself attracted to him, or for it to be mutual. And she certainly doesn’t expect to fall for Lincoln. But when a shocking new Moorehead scandal comes to light, she’s forced to choose between her own family and the broody, cynical CEO.

Handle With Care by Helena Hunting Lincoln has been hard at work living a philanthropist life when he is called home for his father’s funeral and will reading. Lincoln has broken from contact with his family and their self-indulgent life style. Imagine his surprise when he discovers his father has left him completely in control of the family’s Mega media corporation. His grandmother, his only solace as a child, convinces him to stay and help out the family. Wren was hired by Moorehead Media as a PR person, or should I say PR reinventor…she’s got her work cut out for her with Lincoln’s family. Just when she thinks she can break free she is tasked with one more assignment, reinvent the reclusive Lincoln into CEO material. The chemistry burns between Lincoln and Wren and sparks start to fly with the secrets, betrayals and what is uncovered all in the line of duty and family. I flat out loved Handle With Care. Both Wren and Lincoln are likeable, relatable characters that suck the reader right into their plights. With Scandal and financial / career mayhem at hand, they have their work cut out for them but the bickering duo provide a truly fantastic romantic comedy read. I received this ARC copy of Handle With Care from St. Martin's Press. This is my honest and voluntary review. Handle With Care is set for publication August 27, 2019 and will be included in St. Martins Publishing tour and paperback giveaway on Tome Tender on September 6, 2019.

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of PUCKED, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.

Handle With Care Blogger Q&A – Helena Hunting

Q: Can you tell us a little about your new release, Handle with Care? A: Handle with Care follows the story of the reclusive Lincoln Moorehead, who has done everything he can to separate himself from his family and their massive media corporation. Upon the death of his father, he’s forced to come home for the funeral, and then asked to stay on to help transition the company with the assistance of Wren Sterling who has been commissioned to overhaul Lincoln’s image in the public eye. Q: Lincoln Morehead and Wren Sterling are the lead characters in Handle with Care. Which one of them did you find the easiest to develop? What is each characters best and worst traits? A: I always find developing the male lead the easiest. I’m not sure why exactly that is, but Lincoln’s character was so easy to round out and develop. Lincoln’s worst trait is that he jumps to conclusions without first getting all the facts, but his best trait is his altruism. He’s very much about giving back, and despite the fact that he can be a grumpy jerk, he’s also an incredibly good human being. Wren’s worst trait is that she can be a martyr for things that are outside of her control but her best trait is her strength of character and her belief in redemption. Q: What was your greatest challenge while Handle with Care? What was your greatest pleasure and/or reward? A: Wren is a badass heroine, so I think finding the balance between her strength of character and those hints of vulnerability could be tricky at times. I really wanted to humanize her and make her relatable and I hope readers connect with her. I LOVED writing the banter between Linc and Wren. They are both such strong personalities, and that made putting them head to head so much fun.

Q: Which do you find easiest to write-the humor or the heart? A: Humor always seems to find a natural place inside the story, but for me it’s about the balance between the two. I love taking a heavy moment and inserting some kind of comic relief before I go for the feels again. Q: Do you work from an outline while writing your novels? How closely do the finished novels fit your original vision of the characters and storyline before you begin writing? A: I outline extensively. Most of the time I have about ten thousand words of outline and character development before I even start writing. It’s just how I work most effectively. I need to know who my characters are going in and where I want them to be by the end of the book. I generally stick to my outlines very closely since they are so detailed. Q: What did you edit OUT of this book? A: A lot of f-bombs. Q: Do you listen to music while writing? Does it influence the flow of the scene you are writing? A: I do. I create playlists for every single book I write, and I often (always) listen to the same playlist while I write the book. This means that I burn out albums and songs for my family on a very, very regular basis. My husbands list of artists he will no longer listen to grows exponentially with every release. Halsey always finds a place on my playlist and the song Joaquim by Oscar and the Wolf was a particular favorite.

Q: When sitting down to write a new book you have a specific outline to follow or does it just flow naturally? A: The first step in my process is always to write an outline. I need the bones of the story down, where the character arcs will fall and what the conflicts will look like before I start writing the book. Q: What do you like to do when you aren't writing? A: I like hanging out with my daughter and craft. Recently we went camping, which was a fun experience, although I grew up with a family cottage so we would spend a lot of the summer there. Q: Name three things on your desk right now. A: Broken Knight by LJ Shen, Fix Her Up by Tessa Bailey, Resist by K. Bromberg, Undeniable by Melanie Harlow, The Last Letter by Rebecca Yarros (still gives me the chills when I think about it), Verity by Colleen Hoover. Q: What did you enjoy most about writing this book? A: The banter between Wren and Linc and writing a grumpy, jerk hero who really isn’t a jerk but sure acts like one! Q: To get to know you a little bit better... do you have a pet or something that is special to you that you could share with us?

A: I have two cats, Digit is a 14 year old pure white polydactyl cat who sheds like nobodies business and Pumpkin (named by our daughter) is a 6 year old black cat who often thinks he’s a dog, eat edamame beans and begs for bacon at the table. Q: You've written many books & bestsellers, in many genres. What has been your favorite to write thus far? A: That’s a hard question to answer. I love them all for very different reasons, but I will say that I had a lot of fun writing Wren and Linc because of the banter and how much I love writing a strong heroine. Q: What was your favorite book or series in your youth? A: I used to love reading VC Andrews books, and Clive Barker, which I realize are very, bery different! Q: What would you like us (the readers) to take away from your story? A: That families aren’t perfect and people can make mistakes, yet still grow from them. Q: What is your favorite platform to connect with your reader to date? A: I have a reader group called The Beaver Den and I love it in there. The readers are always sharing book experiences and it’s a great community! If you want to join my group you can do it here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/HelenaHuntingBeaverDen/ Q: What project(s) are you currently working on? A: I just finished the third book in the All In Series, which the first book will be releasing this fall. Next I’m starting a standalone, but I also have a new series I’ll be starting soon, and I have a book idea or two for secondary characters in the last two books of The Shacking Up series, as well. It’s safe to say that my writing schedule is planned for the next two years! Q: Do you believe in love at first sight? A: I don’t know about love at first sight but when I saw my husband from across the room for the first time I thought, “man, he’s pretty” and then when we had our first conversation the connection was instant. I think people can “click” and be drawn to each other for inexplicable reasons.

CHAPTER 1

WHAT HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO?

WREN

I slip onto the empty bar stool beside the lumberjack mountain man who looks like he tried to squeeze himself into a suit two sizes too small. He’s intimidatingly broad and thick, with long dark hair that’s been pulled up into a haphazard man bun thing. His beard is a hipster’s wet dream. His scowl, however, makes him about as approachable as a rabid porcupine. And yet, here I am, sidling up next to him.

He glances at me, eyes bleary and not really tracking. He quickly focuses on his half-empty glass again. Based on the slump of his shoulders and the uncoordinated way he picks up his glass and tips it toward his mouth, I’m guessing he’s pretty hammered. I order a sparkling water with a dash of cranberry juice and a lime.

What I could really use is a cup of lavender-mint tea and my bed, but instead, I’m sitting next to a drunk man in his thirties. My life is extra glamorous, obviously. And no, I’m not an escort, but at the moment I feel like my morals are on the same kind of slippery slope.

“Rough day?” I ask, nodding to the bottle that’s missing more than half its contents. It was full when he sat down at the bar an hour ago. Yes, I’ve been watching him the entire time, waiting for an opportunity to make my move. While he’s been sitting here, he’s turned down two women, one in a dress that could’ve doubled as a disco ball and the other in a top so low-cut, I could almost see her navel.

“You could say that,” he slurs. He props his cheek on his fist, eyes almost slits. I can still make out the vibrant blue hue despite them almost being closed. They move over me, assessing. I’m wearing a conservative black dress with a high neckline and a hem that falls below my knees. Definitely not nearly as provocative as Disco Ball or Navel Lady.

“That solving your problems?” I give him a wry grin and tip my chin in the direction of his bottle of Johnnie.

His gaze swings slowly to the bottle. It gives me a chance to really look at him. Or what I can see of his face under his beard, anyway. 

“Nah, but it helps quiet down all the noise up here.” He taps his temple and blurts, “My dad died.” 

I put a hand on his forearm. It feels awkward, and creepy on my part since its half-genuine, half-contrived comfort. “I’m so sorry.”

 He glances at my hand, which I quickly remove, and refocuses on his drink. “I should be sorry too, but I think he was mostly an asshole, so the world might be better off without him.” He attempts to fill his glass again, but his aim is off, and he pours it on the bar instead. I rush to lift my purse and grab a handful of napkins to mop up the mess.

“I’m drunk,” he mumbles. 

“Well, I’m thinking that might’ve been the plan, considering the way you’re sucking that bottle back. I’m actually surprised you didn’t ask for a straw in the first place. Might be a good idea to throw a spacer in there if you want tomorrow morning to suck less.” I push my drink toward him, hoping he doesn’t send me packing like he did the other women who approached him earlier.

He narrows his eyes at my glass, suspicious, maybe. “What is that?”

“Cranberry and soda.”  

“No booze?” 

“No booze. Go ahead. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

 He picks up the glass and pauses when it’s an inch from his mouth. His eyes crinkle, telling me he’s smiling under that beard. “Does that mean Imma wake up with you beside me?”

I cock a brow. “Are you propositioning me?”

“Shit, sorry.” He chugs the contents of my glass. “I was joking. Besides, I’m so wasted, I can barely remember my name. Pretty sure I’d be useless in bed tonight. I should stop talkin’.” He scrubs a hand over his face and then motions to me. “I wouldn’t proposition you.”

I’m not sure how to respond. I go with semi-affronted, since it seems like somewhat of an insult. “Good to know.”

“Dammit. I mean, I think you might be hot. You look hot. I mean attractive. I think you’re pretty.” He tips his head to the side and blinks a few times. “You have nice eyes, all four of them are lovely.”

This time I laugh—for real—and point to the bottle. “I think you might want to tell your date you’re done for the night.”

He blows out a breath and nods. “You might be right.”

He makes an attempt to stand, but as soon as his feet hit the floor, he stumbles into me and grabs my shoulders to steady himself. “Whoa. Sorry. Yup, I’m definitely drunk.” His face is inches from mine, breath smelling strongly of alcohol. Beyond that, I get a whiff of fresh soap and a hint of aftershave. He lets go of my shoulders and takes an unsteady step back. “I don’t usually do this.” He motions sloppily to the bottle. “Mostly I’m a three drink max guy.”

“I think losing your father makes this condonable.” I slide off my stool. Despite being tall for a woman, and wearing heels, he still manages to be close to a head taller than me.

“Yeah, maybe, but I still think I might regret it tomorrow.” He’s incredibly unsteady, swaying while standing in place. I take the opportunity for what it is and thread my arm through his, leading him away from the bar. “Come on, let’s get you to the elevator before you pass out right here.”

He nods, then wobbles a bit, like moving his head has set him off balance. “That’s probably a good idea.”

He leans into me as we weave through the bar and stumbles on the two stairs leading to the foyer. There’s no way I’ll be able to stop him if he goes down, but I drape one of his huge arms over my shoulder anyway, and slip my own around his waist, guiding him in a mostly straight line to the elevators.

“Which floor are you on?” I ask.

“Penthouse.” He drops his arm from my shoulder and flings it out, pointing to the black doors at the end of the hall. “Jesus, I feel like I’m on a boat.”

“It’s probably all the alcohol sloshing around in your brain.” I take his elbow again, helping him stagger the last twenty feet to the dedicated penthouse elevator.

He stares at the keypad for a few seconds, brow pulling into a furrow. “I can’t remember the code. It’s thumbprint activated though too.” He stumbles forward and presses his forehead against the wall, then tries to line up his thumb with the sensor, but his aim is horrendous and he keeps missing.

I settle a hand on his very firm forearm. This man is built like a tank. Or a superhero. For a moment, I reconsider what I’m about to do, but he seems pretty harmless and ridiculously hammered, so he shouldn’t pose a threat. I’m also trained in self-defense, which would fall under the by any means necessary umbrella. “Can I help?”

He rolls his head, eyes slits as they bounce around my face. “Please.”

I take his hand between mine. The first thing I notice is how clammy it is. But beyond that, his knuckles are rough, littered with tiny scars and a few scabs, and his nails are jagged.

“Your hands are small,” he observes as I line his thumb up with the sensor pad and press down.

“Maybe yours are abnormally big,” I reply. They are rather large. Like basketball player hands.

“You know what they say about big hands.”

I fight not to roll my eyes, but for a brief moment, I wonder if what’s in his pants actually matches the rest of him. And if he’s unkempt everywhere, not just on his face. I cut that visual quickly because it makes me want to gag. “And what do they say?”

His eyes crinkle again, and he slaps his own chest. “Something about big hands, big heart.”

I bite back my own smile. “Pretty sure you’re mixing that up with cold hands, warm heart.”

His brow furrows. “There’s a good chance.”

The elevator doors slide open. He pushes off the wall with some effort and practically tumbles inside. He catches himself on the rail and sags against the wall as I follow him in. I honestly can’t believe I’m doing this right now.

He doesn’t have to press a button since the elevator only goes to the penthouse floor. As soon as we start moving, he groans and his shoulders curl in. “I don’t feel so good.”

Please don’t let him be sick in here. If there’s one thing I can’t deal with, it’s vomit. “You should sit.”

He slides down the wall, massive shoulders rolling forward as he rests his forehead on his knees. “Tomorrow is going to suck.”

I stay on the other side of the elevator, in case he tosses his cookies. “Probably.”

It’s the longest elevator ride in the history of the world. Or at least it feels that way, mostly because I’m terrified he’s going to yak. Thankfully, we make it to the penthouse floor incident-free. On the down side, now that he’s in a sitting position, getting him to stand again is a challenge. I have to press the open door button three times before I can finally coax him to his feet.

In the time between leaving the bar and making it to the penthouse floor, the effects of the alcohol seems to have compounded. He’s beyond sloppy, using the wall and me for support as we make our way to his door. There are two penthouse apartments up here. One on either side of the foyer.

He leans against the doorjamb, once again fighting to find the coordination to get his thumb to the sensor pad. I don’t ask if he needs my assistance this time since it’s quite clear he does. Once again I take his clammy hand in mine.

“Your hands are really soft,” he mumbles. 

“Thanks.”

 The pad ashes green, and I turn the handle. “Okay, here we go. Home sweet home.” 

“This isn’t my home,” he slurs. “My cousin’s family owns this building. I’m crashing here until I can get the fuck out of New York.”

I scan the penthouse. It an eclectic combination of odd art and modern furniture, like two different tastes crashed together and this is the result. Aside from that, it’s clean to the point of looking almost like a show home.

The only sign that someone is staying here is the lone coffee cup on the table in the living room and the blanket lolling like a tongue over the edge of the couch. I’m still standing in the doorway while he sways unsteadily.

He tries to shove his hand in his pants pocket, but all he succeeds in doing is setting himself off-balance. He nearly stumbles into the wall.

“Thanks for your help,” he says.

He’s back in his penthouse, which means my job is technically done. However, I’m worried he’s going to hurt himself, or worse, asphyxiate on his own vomit in the middle of the night, and I’ll be the one catching heat if that happens. I’ll also feel bad if something happens to him. I blow out a breath, annoyed that this is how my night is ending.

I heave his arm over my shoulder and slip mine around his waist again, leading him through the living room toward what seems to be the kitchen. There’s a sheet of paper on the island, but otherwise it’s spotless.

“What’re you doing?” he asks.

We pause when we reach the threshold. “Which way is your bedroom?”

He looks slowly from right to left. “Not that way.” He points to the kitchen. It’s very state of the art.

I guide him in the opposite direction down the hall, until he stumbles through a doorway, into a large but simply furnished bedroom. Once we reach the edge of the bed, he drops his arm, spins around—it’s drunkenly graceful—and falls back on the bed, arms spread wide as if he’s planning on making snow angels. “The room is spinning.”

“Would you like me to get you a glass of water and possibly a painkiller for the headache you’ll likely have in the morning?” I’m already heading for the bathroom.

“Might be a good idea,” he mumbles.

I find a glass on the edge of bathroom vanity—which is clean, apart from a brand new toothbrush and tube of toothpaste. I run the tap, wishing I had a plastic tumbler, because I’m not sure he’s in any state to deal with breakable objects. I check the medicine cabinet, find the pills I need, shake out two tablets, and return to the bedroom.

He’s right where I left him; sprawled out faceup on a massive king-size bed, legs hanging off the end, one shoe on the floor beside him. I cross over and set the water and the pills on the nightstand.

I make a quick trip back to the bathroom and grab the empty wastebasket from beside the toilet in case his night is a lot rougher than he expects.

I tap his knee, crossing my fingers he’ll be easy to rouse. “Hey, I have painkillers for you.”

He makes a noise, but doesn’t move otherwise.

I tap his knee again. “Lincoln, you need to wake up long enough to take these.” I cringe. I called him by name, and he didn’t offer it to me while we were down at the bar. Here’s hoping he’s too drunk to notice or remember. His name is Lincoln Moorehead, heir to the Moorehead Media fortune and all the crap that comes with it. And there’s a lot of it.

One eye becomes a slit. “Every time I open my eyes, the room starts spinning again.”

“If you drink this and take these, it might help.” I hold up the glass of water and the pills.

“’Kay.” It takes three tries for him to sit up. He tries to pick the pills up out of my palm, but keeps missing my hand.

“Just open your mouth.”

He lifts his head. “How do I know you’re not trying to roofie me?”

I hold up the tablet in front of his face. “They don’t say roofie, so you’re safe.”

He tries to focus on the pill and then my face. I have my doubts he’s successful at either.

His tongue peeks out to drag across his bottom lip. “The cameras in the hall will catch you if you steal my wallet.”

I laugh at that. “I’m not going to steal your wallet, I’m going to put you to bed.”

“Hmm.” He nods slowly and opens his mouth.

I drop the pills on his tongue and hand him the glass, which he drains in three long swallows. “Would you like me to refill that?”

“That’d be nice.” He holds out the glass, but when I try to pull away, he covers my hands with his. His shockingly blue eyes meet mine, and for a moment they’re clear and compelling. Despite how out of it he is, and how much he resembles a mountain man, or maybe because of it, I have a hard time looking away. “I really wish I wasn’t this messed up. You smell nice. I bet your hair is pretty when it’s not pulled up like that.” He flops a hand toward my bun. “Not that it’s not pretty like that, but I bet if you took it down, it would be wavy and soft. The kind of hair you want to bury your face in and run your fingers through.” He exhales a long breath. “I haven’t had sex in a really long time, but I feel like I would have zero finesse if I tried right now.”

I smile and turn away. In the time it takes for me to refill his glass, he’s managed to get one arm out of his suit jacket. He’s made it most of the way onto the bed, feet still hanging off the end, but he’s on his back, which is not ideal.

I set the glass on his nightstand, along with a second set of painkillers, which I’m assuming he’ll need in the morning, and give him another nudge. “Hey.”

This time I get nothing in the way of a response. I poke him twice more, but still nothing. He can’t sleep on his back with how drunk he is. He needs to be on his side or his stomach with a wastebasket close by.

I can’t in good conscience leave him like this. My options are limited. I shake my head as I kick off my shoes and climb up onto the bed with him. This is not at all what I expected to be doing when I brought him back up here.

I stare down at his sleeping form. His lips are parted, they’re nice lips, full and plump, even though they’re mostly obscured by his overgrown beard. His hair has started to unravel from its man bun, wisps hanging in his face. He has long lashes, really long actually, and they’re thick and dark, the kind women pay a lot of money for. His nose is straight and his cheekbones— what I can see of them—are high. With a haircut, a beard trim or complete shave, and a new suit that actually fits, I can imagine how refined he’ll look. More like a Moorehead than a mountain man lumberjack. I shake my head. “I need you to roll onto your side, please,” I say loudly.

Nothing. Not even a grunt.

I pull on his shoulder, but he’s dead weight. Leaning over him, I make a fist and give him a light jab approximately where his kidney is. “Lincoln, roll over.”

And roll he does, knocking me down and turning over so he’s right on top of me. We’re face-to-face. Good God, he’s heavy. His bones must be made of lead. He shifts, one leg coming over both of mine. I push at his knee, but his arm swings out and he wraps himself around me on a low groan, pinning my arm to my side. He’s like a giant human blanket.

“How did this become my life?” I say to the ceiling, because the man lying on top of me is apparently out cold.

I try to wriggle free, I even yell his name a bunch of time before I give up and wait for him to roll off me. And while I wait for that to happen, I replay the conversation with his mother, Gwendolyn Moorehead, that took place forty-eight hours ago and put me in this awkward position underneath her drunk son.

I’d been standing in Fredrick’s office, still digesting the fact that he was dead. It was shocking that a massive heart attack had taken him, since he was always so healthy and full of life.

Gwendolyn, his wife—now a widow—stood stoic behind his desk, papers stacked neatly in the center.

“I’m so very for your loss, Gwendolyn. If there’s anything I can do. Whatever you need.” The words poured out, typical condolences, but sincerely meant because I couldn’t imagine how my mother and I would feel if we lost my father.

Gwendolyn’s fingers danced at her throat as she cleared it. “Thank you,” she whispered brokenly and dabbed at her eyes. “I appreciate your kindness, Wren.”

“Let me know what you want me to handle, and I’ll take care of it.”

She took a deep breath, composing herself before she lifted her gaze to mine. “I need your help.”

“Of course, what can I do?”

“My oldest son, Lincoln, will be returning to New York for the funeral, and he’ll be staying to help run the company.”

A hot feeling crept up my spine. I’d heard very little about Lincoln. Everything from Armstrong’s mouth was scathing, Fredrick’s passing references had been with fondness, and my interactions with Gwendolyn had been minimal as it was Fredrick himself who hired me, so this was first I’ve heard of Lincoln through her. “I see. And how can I help with that?” I could only imagine how difficult Armstrong would be if he had to share the attention with someone else, particularly his brother.

“Transitioning Lincoln.” Gwendolyn rounded her desk. “You’ve managed to turn around Armstrong’s reputation in the media during the time you’ve been here. I know it hasn’t been easy, and Armstrong can be difficult to manage.”

Difficult to manage is the understatement of the entire century where Armstrong is concerned. He’s a cocksucker of epic proportions. He’s also a misogynistic, narcissistic bastard that I’ve had to deal with for the past eight months on a nearly daily basis—sometimes even on weekends.

My job as his “handler” has been to reshape his horrendous reputation after his involvement in several scandalous events became very public. It wasn’t a job I necessarily wanted, and I was prepared to politely reject the offer, but my mother asked me to take the position as a favor to her since she’s a friend of Gwendolyn.

Beyond that, my relationship with my mother has been strained for the past decade. When I was a teenager, I discovered information that changed our relationship forever. Taking the job at Moorehead was in part, my way of trying to help repair our fractured bond. The financial compensation, which was ridiculously high, also didn’t hurt. Besides, Gwendolyn is on nearly every single charitable foundation committee in the city, and since that’s where my interests lie, it seemed like a smart career move.

“Since you’re already working with Armstrong and things seem to be settled there for the most part, I felt it would make sense to keep you on here at Moorehead to work with Lincoln. He’s been away from civilized society for several years. He’s nothing like his brother, very altruistic and focused on his job, rather than recreational pursuits, so he should be easier to manage.”

I fought a scoff at the last bit, since “recreational pursuits” was a reference to the fact that Armstrong couldn’t seem to keep his pants zipped when it came to women.

Gwendolyn pushed a set of papers toward me. “It would only be for another six months. And of course, your salary would reflect the double work load, since you’ll still have to maintain Armstrong in some capacity while you assist Lincoln in transitioning into his role here.”

“I’m sorry, what—”

Gwendolyn pulled me into an awkward hug, holding onto my shoulders when she stepped back. Her eyes were glassy and red-rimmed. “You have no idea how much I appreciate your willingness to take this on. As soon as your contract is fulfilled, you have my word that I’ll give you a glowing recommendation to whichever organization you’d like. Your mother told me you’re interested in starting your own foundation. I’ll certainly help you in any way I’m able if you’ll stay on a little longer for me.” She dabbed at her corner of her eyes and sniffed, then tapped the papers on the desk. “I already have an agreement ready and an NDA, of course. Everything is tabbed for signing.”

I’m pulled back into the present when Lincoln shifts and one of his huge hands slides up my side and lands on my breast. At the same time, he pushes his nose against my neck, beard tickling my collarbone. He mutters something unintelligible against my skin.

I’m momentarily frozen in shock. Under any other circumstances, I would knee him in the balls. However, he’s not conscious or even semi-aware that he’s fondling me. Thankfully, now that he’s moved, I have some wiggle room.

I elbow him in the ribs, which probably hurts me more than it does him. At least it gets him to move away enough that I can slip out from under him. I roll off the bed and pop back up, smoothing out my now-wrinkled dress. My stupid nipples are perky, thanks to the attention the right one just got. Probably because it’s the most action I’ve seen since I started working for the Mooreheads eight months ago.

I hit the lights on the way out of the bedroom, pause in the kitchen to grab a glass of water and check out the sheet of paper on the counter. It’s a list of important details regarding the penthouse, including the entry code. I nab my purse, snap a pic, and head for the elevators.

I have a feeling this is going to be a long six months.

permission from St. Martin’s Paperbacks.

One Winner will receive a Paperback Copy of HANDLE WITH CARE

September 6 - 20, 2019

a Rafflecopter giveaway

0 notes

sheminecrafts · 5 years ago

Text

Swappie bags $40.6M to sell more secondhand iPhones across Europe

Finland-based Swappie has closed a €35.8 million ($40.6M) Series B to expand into new markets in Europe. The ecommerce business refurbishes and resells used iPhones, taking care of the entire process from testing and repairing used handsets, to selling the refurbished devices via its own marketplace, with a 12-month warranty.

Local VC and private equity firm TESI is a new investor in the Series B, along with Lifeline Ventures, Reaktor Ventures and Inventure Investors, all of whom participated in Swappie’s 2019 Series A. The total raised to date since the business was founded in 2016 is $48M.

Right now Swappie operates in Finland, Sweden, Denmark and Italy. The new financing will be used to expand across Europe, beginning with launches in Germany, Ireland, Portugal and the Netherlands this summer.

It’s also eyeing expansion beyond Europe — so will be speccing out a broader roadmap for the future.

“The main focus of this round is to become the number one player in Europe. But also to explore opportunities outside Europe as well,” says CEO and co-founder Sami Marttinen. “That’s something we will be looking into but no concrete plans to announce at this point.

“There are still opportunities for our business model everywhere in the world. So it’s a matter of just building the roadmap — where to go next.”

Swappie’s Jiri Heinonen (CMO) and Sami Marttinen (CEO) (Photo credit: Swappie)

Swappie touts growing consumer demand in the region to buy refurbished phones, saying that from 2018 to 2019 revenues grew 4x, hitting $35M+ in net revenue in 2019. It’s also seeing demand continuing to grow this year — recording a 5x increase in net revenue growth in April and May 2020 vs the same period last year, despite the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic. Indeed, the trend of consumers shifting to buying more online looks to be a help for its online marketplace.

Commenting on Swappie’s Series B in a statement, Tony Nysten, Investment Manager at TESI, said: “We believe there is a huge growth opportunity for Swappie. The smartphone market in Europe is worth over €100BN but used or refurbished phones currently make up just over 10% of that and only one in four pre-owned phones are currently re-sold. Through its rapid growth to date, Swappie has proven its ability to not just grow market share within the refurbished market, but to expand the size of the category overall. The business has enormous potential.”

Swappie’s early choice of market focus included not only familiar turf in the Nordics — but Italy, in Southern Europe. The latter was chosen deliberately on account of it being a tough market for ecommerce, per Marttinen.

“In the really early days the reason why we went to Italy was because it was one of the toughest ecommerce markets in Europe — they have a really low ecommerce maturity index. It’s very different in terms of shopping behavior. You need to build another level of trust in that market. There are lots of unique traits like cash on delivery, things like that. So we knew that in order to really conquer the market globally — and to be able to deliver on our global ambitions we would need to enter as difficult markets as early in our journey as possible.

“These days we have a much more advanced playbook and market studies across Europe.”

Swappie describes itself as a ‘scale-up’ tech business on account of addressing the whole value chain, per Marttinen.

“We’ve done a lot there on the hardware side — when it comes to actually refurbishing the devices we can make them even stronger then the original devices in many cases. So that means we can go as deep as onto the motherboard level in the repairs. Then on the software side, of course, we’re making selling and distribution and everything else scalable. Making sure that the checking processes and all the processes in the factory are according to the latest standards,” he says.

“Because of being so focused in also building the processes and focusing on the quality so much, so actually we have been able to truly change the way people consume electronics,” he adds. “If you think about it from a local player perspective they are typically mostly competing for the people who are already buying used devices — whereas we are able to deliver on this market by having full control of the entire value chain, from buying to refurbishing, to selling the phones to consumers.

“Most of our customers are buying used or refurbished devices for the first time — so actually our biggest competitors are new smartphone retailers.”

The most popular iPhone model sold on Swappie’s marketplace last year was the iPhone 8, per Marttinen.

He won’t disclosed the exact number of iPhones Swappie has refurbished and sold at this point but he says it’s a six-figure number — aka ‘hundreds of thousands’.

The team chose to focus on iPhones to ensure they can deliver the highest quality device refurbishment, he says, while also benefiting from the relatively higher cost of Apple’s smartphone hardware vs Android devices. Though he doesn’t rule out expanding to offer another type of refurbished smartphone in future.

“The business is now growing really rapidly but what we noticed in the early days is that the new device prices had started to rise before we started this business so we have been very lucky with the timing,” he tells TechCrunch, noting that Swappie also benefitted from the plateauing into advancements between handset models in recent years, as the technology matured.

“If you can build trust into this business, and make sure that the phones function as well as new devices — and that you’re actually making the buying process as well as safe as buying a new phone — that way you can actually accelerate the growth of the market. So that’s what we have been really successful in. It’s kind of the key to being able to grow so quickly.”

“One main point there has been that because we refurbish every device ourselves in our own factory in Finland we can deliver to customers the highest quality devices under warranty for much less than the cost of a new phone and also be more environmentally friendly,” he adds.

While, in years past, there have been instances of iPhone users’ devices bricked after a repair by an unauthorized repair shop Marttinen says Swappie is using only original iPhone parts so has avoided such problems.

He also points to recent European Commission proposals for a pan-EU ‘right to repair’ for electronics which suggests device makers selling in the region will be required to respect repairability, rather than using software updates as a way to penalize consumers who seek to extend the lifespan of their current device.

Photo credit: Swappie

Swappie’s business also slots into a wider Commission mission to transition the EU to a circular economy, as part of the green deal announced by current president, Ursula von der Leyen — so it’s skating to where the puck is headed, if you like.

“It’s really good for the environment that the right to repair legislation has come forward in the past few years. That’s one very important point for us as well which was one of the reasons why we wanted to built microscope level repairs in our factories — so we wouldn’t have to scrap as many phones as you normally would,” Marttinen adds.

What can’t it repair? The proportion of iPhones which turn out to be truly unsalvageable via its processes is “extremely small“, he says. “We can actually do any repairs that are possible to do the phones so, basically, water damaged phones which have been at the bottom of the ocean — those are of course unrepairable. Or if the phone is bent too much or if the motherboard is completely ruined. But basically all the other faults we can repair.”

On the competitive front, he says Swappie’s main rival are retailers selling new iPhones — given it’s trying to woo iOS users away from buying a brand new iPhone. On the secondhand marketplace front Marttinen mentions reBuy as one of the main rival players in refurbishing and reselling electronics, though it does not focus on iPhones — offering a full range of devices, from wearables to smartphones and tablets, laptops, consoles and cameras.

from iraidajzsmmwtv https://ift.tt/3hzA6Qw via IFTTT

#IFTTT #iraidajzsmmwtv

0 notes

endenogatai · 5 years ago